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kissitbttr · 10 months

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miguel can’t help it when you’re wearing his clothes

summary: miguel o’hara x f!reader

warning: 18+ stuff but not too overboard

miguel is trying really hard to concentrate. he really is.

being a superhero and the leader of spider society is not an easy task. sometimes he’d go days without sleeping. you can either find him at his office or the gym doing his daily workouts because that’s the only place he can take his stress out.

days of scanning over reports and the hours he put in to enhance the new spiderman suit should not go to waste. his eyes are tracking back and forth to the amount of papers scatter all over the table. not to mention a kid he has to take care of named ‘miles morales’ added to his list is almost enough to make his brain explode.

but how could he focus on his work when you’re standing five feet away from him? fixing yourself up a small snack in the kitchen with nothing but his t-shirt and his boxers.

his greedy eyes running through your body shamelessly, finding himself getting lost in his thoughts and he has to snap himself out of it a few times otherwise he won’t be able to finish off all the reports that must be done that night.

yet, he can’t help but admire the way your curves are accentuated by his shorts. how your thick thighs and plump ass filling them in instead of it being too big on you. the way your soft cheeks are slightly peeking underneath the grey cotton material,

he grunts a low ‘fuck me’ when he sees you bending over to put the cookies in the oven. are you doing this on purpose?

had enough of the distraction you’re giving, he slams a folder down and turns his attention on you. “mi vida, can you please don’t stand like that?”

“huh?” you cock an eyebrow, confused to what makes this grumpy man scolding you at this hour. “what’d i do?” you crane your neck to look over at him, with a frown look on his handsome features.

“you! ay dios mio you’re making me hard to focus here! i have so much work to do and you’re being a distraction.”

licking off a cookie dough off your finger, you put your hands on your hips. “how am i being distracting?! I’m literally just standing here making cookies!”

“you know what it does to me when you’re wearing my clothes, mami. I can’t control it. please please stand at least ten feet away.”

“oh?” your voice sounds playful. a small smirk graces upon your lips as you tip toe around the counter to get closer to him.

he knows what you’re up to.

shaking his head in disapproval, he put his large hand up and looking away. “para por favor, cariño. i know what you’re about to do and i cannot afford any distractions right now. stay right where you are.”

“hmm, no.” you giggle, walking towards where he is and you can hear him groan slightly. “whatchu doooing?”

he smiles a bit at that. no matter what you do, he can’t get mad at you. it feels like you put a spell on him or something, he can’t work it out. but he doesn’t complain at all.

he’d break jaws and tear down the fucking universe for you.

he admires the way your thighs rub against each other when you walk, jiggling slightly before you manage to sit yourself comfortably beside him. tucking your legs underneath your butt and make your legs look even thicker

miguel lean himself back a little while his fingers go up against your cheek, grazing it ever so softly. his smile grows when you peck him on the lips.

“how you doing, papi?” you ask, removing a strand of hair from his forehead. “are you feeling okay? you’ve been working far too hard lately, I’m worried.”

he sighs in pure bliss when you run your fingers softly underneath his scalp. feeling himself melt away against your touch.

“always better when you’re around me, mi amor. but you know you can’t be wearing that anymore when I’m working.”

he has to hold back the urge to pick you up and fuck you against the wall when you pout at him.

“you like seeing me in your clothes”

“que sí, baby. but your ass is distracting me far too much in that when I’m working, you know how i get when i see you wearing my boxers. I can’t contain it.” he responds, large hand coming up to rub your exposed thigh, finger toying with the loose hem of his shorts,

“theeen, maybe it’s a sign you should take a break” you suggest, tilting your head lightly. “come play with me, miggy,”

he swears he almost cum right there and then when you say it.

“i will, baby. i promise. but i gotta finish this first, yeah?” his eyes bore into yours as he promises. he wants so badly to leave his work but he knows he can’t. not right now.

with a small huff, you nod. “fine. I’ll wait.”

“good girl.” he leans forward to kiss you again on the lips. “just a few more minutes, yeah?”

“yeah yeah.” you say, “don’t forget to eat. please don’t skip it this time. dinner is on the table, I’ve prepared it for you. also there’s some leftover brownies for dessert if you want it, papi.”

“what do you mean? I’m looking at my full course meal right now, cariño.”

you roll your eyes playfully, blushing a bit as you smile at him. he’s giving you that infamous smirk of his with his eyebrow raising. showing you he’s not playing when he says that,

“aish. such a sweet talker you are. be quick baby” you shake your head, standing up from the couch before heading to the bedroom with your fingers fixing down his shorts to cover it more. your ass moves from side to side as he watches.

god, he fucking loves to see you walk away.

a/n: i will give him kids enough to create a football team

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara fluff #miguel o’hara blurbs

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pathologicalreid · 3 days

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gemini | S.R.

two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.

so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding

Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.

In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”

He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.

Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.

She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.

Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.

You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?

“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.

Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.

He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”

Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.

Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”

“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.

The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”

You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.

Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.

“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.

His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.

Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.

This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”

Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.

The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.

You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.

He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”

David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.

Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.

Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.

It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.

You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.

Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.

Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.

There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance and nodded quickly, “Yes.”

Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.

Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.

“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.

Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.

You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.

You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.

Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.

“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.

Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”

Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”

“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.

Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.

As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”

The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.

Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.

Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.

He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”

Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.

Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.

“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.

Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.

Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.

You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.

He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”

His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”

On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.

Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.

The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.

If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.

“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.

Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.

Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.

Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.

Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.

As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.

“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”

He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”

Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.

Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.

As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.

Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.

He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”

Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”

“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”

Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.

Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”

“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.

She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”

Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.

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mxtantrights · 12 days

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Four times Red hood blushed because of you, and one time Jason Todd blushed.

The first time it happens you don’t notice. How could you when he wears that mask on his face all the time? It’s the two of you on a rooftop. You just raided a warehouse filled with scarecrows fear gas and made sure it didn’t land in the wrong hands.

You were coming off a high. That’s why you offered to get a bite to eat with Red. Red. That’s what you call him because you two are coworkers. You get the job done and have a few laughs, and part ways.

When he hands you a taco in silence you thank him in a stupidly wild accent that can't be real. And he chuckles. You hear it. You know you do, but you can't believe it. You made the Red Hood laugh!

It felt good. You wanted to make him laugh again.

What you didn't know was that he actually found it so cute. And was blushing underneath is mask.

2. The second time is an incredibly inappropriate time. The league had called on you to help them with an investigation. Which you were kind of feaking out about but trying to be cool.

You couldn't really be cool when Superman literally said your vigilante name out loud. You tried your hardest but you couldn't contain your excitement. You turned to Red hood and jumped up and down as soon as the meeting was over.

He laughed and told you yo calm down. But you started yapping about how Superman was the first hero you looked up to and how much of an honor it is that he knew who you were and acknowledged you.

Red Hood tells you that you remind him of the Robin that used to love Wonder Woman. Which makes you laugh and agree that that Robin knew what he was doing because he's right.

3. The third time is completely by accident. You're going down the zip line trying to get across from one building to another. And Red is waiting for you on the other side. It was your first time.

You scream the entire way as the speed picks up. Then before you know it, it's over. It's over and you're on top of another building but you can't quite find your footing. So you go crashing into the only thing there in front of you, which is Red.

He grabs you by the waist as the bath for you go down. You land with a groan. He cradles your fall entirely.

When you let out a breath and pick yourself up a bit, you're really close to his mask. The closest you've been to him since the two of you met.

He clears his throat and asks if you're okay. To which you nod, you're not about to go use your words when you know your tongue is heavy and you don't even know the alphabet. Red is tough and lean underneath you. You're aren't sure what you were expecting.

You pull yourself up quickly and offer him a hand to get up. He takes it and once again the two of you come face to face. Or, mask to mask. If he could see you now, fully he would see how hard you are flushing.

4. The forth time is rightfully earned. You just closed a case all on your own. No help from anyone. You did the investigation, you did the recon. And you got the perps into the hands of those who would deliver justice.

It was a pretty blood scene so you're a bit covered in it. Your suit is laden with blood stains and it got over some of your mask and face. You thought it would be better idea to shower in one of the safe houses rather than drag all the evidence back into your own home.

Red was there, cleaning his weapons like he usually does. And you walked in with all of that on you. It's like something in him just kickstarted. He looked at you, took you in, and all he could say was 'Hi'.

You gave him wave and told him you were going to shower the night off you.

As soon as you get into the bathroom, Jason smacks himself in the forehead.

5. It was a normal day. It was laundry day. You had a lot of shit to wash because honestly both your jobs keep you busy and you weren't about to send your things off to the cleaners.

You're in the local laundromat in great sweats and a blue hoodie. Your headphones are over your ears as you read through some threads online about Red. Not the ones trying to dissect his identity. The ones that are giving him credit for cleaning up the city.

So you're distracted when someone taps on your shoulder. You don't scare easily, and you know that if you're in trouble you can handle things. You turn around to see who it is and what they want.

A tall guy with a tuft of white hair amidst his dark brown hair. And his arms are practically poking out of his muscle tee. You haven't had a decent date in a while. A while being like a year now.

You remove your headphones.

"Can I help you?" you ask.

He nods, "Yeah, I'm sorry but I think you might have taken a piece of clothing into your dryer?"

He points over to the dryer. And there in the tumbling wad of clothes you try to decipher which piece of clothing is not yours. You can see a jacket you don't own. And a shirt that doesn't have any graphics on it, which means it's not yours.

Your eyes widen, "Wait seriously? I'm so sorry."

"Don't sweat it, I just wanted to know if I could pay you back sometime?" he asks.

You look at him then. Tall. Hot. Does his own laundry. Gotham is a cesspool but this guy is probably one of the good ones. Why not?

"Yeah?" you ask.

He looks away from you then for a second. His hand coming behind him to scratch as it his neck. And you see it. A very faint but still present blush dusts across his cheeks and down his neck.

a/n: based on this comment I got on a post! I hope he's bbg enough for you!!

#dc x reader #dc imagine #dc blurbs #dc #Jason todd #Jason todd x reader #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd blurb

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horang-07 · 6 months

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FNAF SPOILERS! SCROLL! TALKING ABOUT THE SPRINGLOCK SCENE!

i’ve seen so many people discussing the springlock scene in both negative and positive ways and i think it brings up really cool points about how matthew played that scene and balanced fan expectations with his own characterisation.

i think the discussions around this movie have rlly exposed the disconnect between fanon and canon in fnaf, especially talking abt the core games in isolation, bc frankly in the game universe (ignoring the books) we get Very Little characterisation for William other than the obvious, but Matthew managed to add so much in the way he talks and his body language.

in the reveal scene, we see afton at arguably his peak. in his first scene, he comes off as somewhat demeaning and judgemental until he recognises mike’s name, at which point he seems to have this nervous energy, rushing to cover it up but stumbling slightly, his reaction to the tables being turned even slightly is massive.

this is a man who committed multiple mrdrs in essentially broad daylight, hid the bodies in the most obvious place, and still got away with it, and then kept the crime scene as a trophy of his actions, and an ongoing prison sentence for his victims. he has been in complete control for decades, and is confident that he can deal with any kind of threat quickly. his confidence in his reveal is palpable

it changes when vanessa shoots him. the whole parallel with vanessa and the animatronics is hugely interesting too- how william refers to the animatronics almost endearingly as “kids” when he wants them to obey, how both vanny and the animatronics have an unearned loyalty to him, almost a pseudo-adoption through what he did to them, taking them from their parents and keeping them under his thumb, forever stuck as naive, forgiving, obedient children. vanessa breaking from that control shakes him, but the mask slips back into place almost immediately.

then, he’s outsmarted by the brother of one of his victims, and the child he planned to end next. his pseudo-children turn on him and he can no longer manipulate his appearance or shed his skin to escape. he explodes on them, and his language is incredibly telling that he is being dishonest.

he calls them small, trying to belittle them into submission, even though they are ten feet tall metal animatronics powered by rage. he is grasping at straws to regain control, and failing miserably.

finally, the springlocks go off. the locks in the movie look more like a ribcage, so the first two likely puncture his lungs. they’re slow, and painful, but he doesn’t scream or beg or sob. he grunts and groans, gritting his teeth and only letting out sounds of pain that sound almost involuntary. there is no way in hell he would visibly let himself show weakness or pain in front of these creatures that he believes he has control over. he isn’t brought to his knees until there are eight metal spikes embedded in his abdomen. he doesn’t let the mask fall for even a second, until he literally PUTS THE ACTUAL MASK ON and finally collapses. even then, he’s fighting for consciousness, twitching and writhing with no control over his body. william afton thrives on control, and his soul will not rest until he gets it back.

it’s why he keeps the pizzeria- he always comes back. he can’t help but return to the scene of the crime, putting on his old costume, continuing his killings. he revels in being a constant threat on the horizon. and now, he knows he is going to die, and he knows the suit will bring him back, and noone will be able to get rid of him then. so he puts the mask back on, and waits.

in terms of the sfx- they’re pretty accurate. with stab wounds, you need to leave the knife in the wound as long as possible for best chance of survival, as it stops the blood from escaping. in terms of the springlocks, there wouldn’t be copious amounts of blood as the locks are keeping the wounds filled- which is good because it means a slower, more painful death.

#fnaf #fnaf movie #eden rambles #william afton #matthew lillard #springtrap #five nights at freddy's #fnaf spoilers #idk i thought it was a great scene #ppl just need to manage their expectations of what fnaf 1 Actually Is in isolation #not the years of other media and fandom and lore and theory #we literally saw him get springlocked one time in 8 bit with no audio and four frames. how is this worse in comparison #wanna make another post talking abt how the film explores images vs the reality when you look deeper #specifically abby and her drawings/the drawings at freddys vs mike’s motivation being based on the images he sees in his dreams #and how it’s so perfect for fnaf 1 being a game almost entirely made of just scary images without actually exploring the reality #that these robots are Children and Scared and Lost #tldr the fort scene was necessary

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champagnefountains · 2 months

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LUCIFER MAGNE – H.H

CHAPTER III (Finale) - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapters: I [x], II [x] Word count: 2.6k+ words (unedited) Genre/other tags: Angst with comfort. Good ending. Jealousy. Warnings: Cursing (of course). Gets a little bit heated towards the end, but nothing too explicit. Alastor being an asshole.

Much to your surprise, you found yourself enjoying Alastor’s company. When he wasn’t being the maddening person that he can be, he was actually quite pleasant to be around. After grabbing the items that Charlie had requested (which had all been teleported back to the hotel), Alastor convinced you to have a leisurely stroll around the outskirts of town. There, he introduced you to the many places he frequented, from the small, homey cafe he would always go to, to even the butchers where he purchases his premium meats. All the while, you tried to ignore the looks that you got from the surrounding residents – a mixture of fear and distaste were sent towards the radio-demon, whilst others stared at you in question, wondering who you may be and what you were doing with the Overlord.

Even though you weren’t in the mood to chat, Alastor was more than happy to fill in the silence, sharing a couple stories and cracking corny jokes here and there, which you had to admit were pretty funny. After an exhausting week, it made you realise how nice it was to actually smile and laugh again.

After a couple hours, you both made your way back to the hotel. All the while, Alastor had been recounting a narrative from his times in the living world which had taken a particularly hilarious turn, causing you both to chuckle aloud. You wiped the amused tear that escaped your eye as Alastor pushed through the front doors of the establishment.

“Oh, fuck no!” A familiar voice shouted from the distance, startling and causing you to flinch on the spot. Swiftly turning your head to the source of the ruckus, you were dumbfounded to see Lucifer himself, stomping his way towards your direction with a vexed expression. Behind him, you saw a distressed Charlie staggering towards him as Vaggie followed suit.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you asshole!?” Lucifer growled, getting up close and personal with Alastor, whilst poking an accusatory finger against his chest. Before you could’ve reacted, you were then pulled back by the deer-demon, who draped an arm around your shoulders.

“Now, now, why the sudden hostility? I was only taking my darling [Name] out for a much needed breath of fresh air!” Alastor chimes, feigning innocence and batting his lashes. “I took it upon myself to look after her wellbeing. We’ve all been so worried since she’s just been so, so dispirited and blue lately…and I’m sure you know why that is, your highness.” The backhanded comment caused you to swiftly peer up at the Overlord, baffled by the harshness of his remark. But as you observe his ever-growing grin, it only then struck you, the sole purpose behind his kind display towards you.

Meanwhile, it had Lucifer fuming. Literally. “Why you little, piece of shit–” The King then grabbed Alastor by his dress-shirt, the fabric scorching under his touch, “who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?” Seeing the growing tension between the two men, Charlie immediately stepped forward. “Dad, stop it,” she sternly said, grabbing his wrist in warning. Lucifer was quick to shake the girl’s hand off, tightening his grip on Alastor’s shirt, “No, Charlie, I need to put this pompous asshole back in his place! It seems he doesn’t know basic courtesy, and how to keep out of other people’s business.”

Alastor chortles mockingly in response. “Oh, hoh? You speak of courtesy? I believe you should take your own advice, your highness, as you seem to lack consideration to those around you,” he pushed even further, all the while peering down at you from the corner of his eyes. Lucifer follows his line of sight, his eyes landing on the troubled expression etched on your face. His gaze softened for a brief moment, before hardening once more as he fixed his attention back to the Overlord.

“You better shut that damn trap of yours if you know what’s good for you,” Lucifer warns deeply. “Now, I’m merely sticking up for a dear pal of mine. So tell me, what exactly is so wrong about that?” Alastor shoots back, harshly flicking the man’s hand away. Tutting, he patted down his now-tattered suit, an eye twitching in mild annoyance.

“It is when you decide to overstep boundaries.” With a blink of an eye, Lucifer’s scleras suddenly switched over to a red hue, sending you into sudden caution. Alastor’s grin turned almost sinister at the challenging tone. “Perhaps it’s necessary to do so. After all, dear [Name] over here had a pleasant time. There was no harm done.”

The King gritted his teeth, his horns threatening to reveal themselves, “Oh, but that’s what you think. ‘Cause someone will be harmed if you decide to keep this shit up–”

“Lucifer, stop.” Almost instantaneously, the King’s fumes were extinguished as he turned his gaze towards you. He felt shame fill him to the core at the sight of your disappointed expression, glaring at him in disapproval. Baffled, he opened his mouth to speak, “[Name], I–”

“Don’t,” you sternly intervene, raising a hand to silence him. You then send a critical glance back at Alastor, forcibly pushing his arm off of you, “And you. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking of, pulling a stunt like this and using my vulnerability for your sick entertainment, but I expect you to apologise to Charlie and everyone else here for causing all this ruckus.” You ignored the way the radio-demon’s eyes rolled as you pushed through, stepping forward to grab Lucifer by the wrist, before dragging him along towards the staircase leading to your rooms. In doing so, you offer an apologetic look to your friends as you pass by the bar, who nodded back in silent understanding and awe.

The walk towards your shared room was painfully silent as the both of you dreaded the upcoming confrontation. As the number of your shared room came into view, you let go of Lucifer to wordlessly invite yourself inside. The King followed suit with hesitant steps, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Rubbing his arms self-consciously, his downcast eyes trailed up to you. You had plopped yourself down on the furthest side of the bed across the room, your back facing towards him and posture slumped over. Lucifer let out a shaky breath.

“...[Name], darling. I’m sorry,” he starts softly, nervously squeezing his hands into fists, “I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin. It was–It was childish of me. I didn’t mean to upset you–“

“Y’know, you’ve got some nerve acting the way you did…” you suddenly cut in, voice surprisingly faint but filled with melancholy, “...acting all resentful and jealous towards Alastor–who mind you, was actually just taking me out for a walk–when you yourself still seem to be preoccupied with your ex.” Lucifer grimaced at the venom laced in your tone. Ouch. Though it was deserving, he dejectedly thinks to himself.

“[Name], please, I-I can explain everything. I didn’t mean for tonight to go the way it did,” Lucifer pleaded whilst staring at the back of your head. He didn’t know whether his sincerity was effectively making its way through to you.

“Then what were you planning?” You say sharply, your voice raising a bit, “I…Lucifer, just please tell me what’s going on. Just tell me the truth.” Your eyes started to blur as a sob threatened to escape your throat. “Because I’m tired of this. I-I’m so tired of feeling so insecure, confused and lost, and I...I-I don’t even know what you want from me anymore.” You hang your head down low, hugging yourself tightly as the tears begin to pour out uncontrollably, “If…if you’re planning on breaking up with me, just go ahead and say it! I-I don't want to be waddling 'round like some–some idiot, waiting for you to–”

“No. Wha–[Name], no. Don’t even go there.” Lucifer said incredulously, immediately marching towards your side of the bed. He kneels down in front of you, reaching out to grab at your shaking hands. “That’s not why I’m here, okay? It’s not even remotely close to what I have to say. So please get that idea out of your head,” he reaffirms, while rubbing his thumbs against your hands in a reassuring manner. You decided to keep your gaze down, having no strength to look Lucifer in the eye, knowing fully well that you’d break even more if you were to do so. Your tiny gasps and hiccups were what filled the room, tearing the King’s heart bit by bit, with every second that passed. With no words spoken on your behalf, Lucifer took this as a cue to continue.

“[Name]…I’m sorry for upsetting you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. I-I know I’ve got a lot of baggage, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for making you carry that burden with me. I…I did a lot of thinking during our time apart, and it made me realise how much of a fool I was–of how blind I was to what was in front of me. I took for granted your love and kindness. I-It wasn’t fair to you, and you didn’t deserve that. I-I truly didn't know what I was thinking, continuing to wear that ring. I came to terms and knew deep down for so long, even before we got together, that there wasn’t a possibility that Lilith and I would ever get together again. And yes, I do love Lilith. She’s been with me since the beginning of time and for most of eternity, and is the mother of my only child. Perhaps it was the memories that we shared that kept me hanging on for so long, I thought. She didn’t do anything wrong by me either…we just…sort of grew apart after a while. I-I don’t know why, but regardless…it hurt a lot. And even despite her absence now, I still do love her.”

At that, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. His words were like a harsh punch to the gut. It was nauseating, and the room felt like it was caving in on you. Devastated, you attempted to pull yourself away to leave the room, but was forced to still as Lucifer reached up to cup a hand over your dampened cheek. He gently tugs your face upward, his eyes softening and staring deep into your crestfallen, reddened ones.

“But darling, it’s not the same anymore. It’s different now. And it’s because you changed that. Yes, Lilith will continue to be an important person in my life, there’s no doubt about it. But…it’s you, darling. I choose you. You mended and opened up my heart when I was a hundred-percent certain that I couldn’t for another soul again. Each second and moment I spent with you made me become so hopeful and excited for the future and whatever lies ahead of us. Alongside Charlie, you've made me the happiest I’ve ever been in so, so long. And it’s you who fortunately gave me a second chance in this life. I'm so grateful for you, and words can’t even express how much you mean to me. A-And I’m sorry it took a while for me to realise that, and for hurting you in the process.” Eyes closing, he leans in to press his forehead against yours.

“And yes, it might take a bit more time to put this all behind me, and I-I apologise. But…I’m finally ready to take that leap with you. My heart is yours for the taking–as long as you’ll have me, that is. And I-I don’t expect you to forgive me now–I wouldn’t even forgive myself either. But, if it’s space that you want and need, I’ll respect that. But just know that I love you. And I’m sorry if I made it seem that I don’t, or don’t show it enough. But believe me…I love you. I love you so damn much.”

The sincere confession left you speechless, feeling yourself practically melt into his hands like pudding. A sensation akin to relief crashed over you like a wave, finally hearing the words that you longed for, for over a week. With a broken sigh, you cupped a hand over his own, leaning in to bask in his touch. Your breath then hitched at the realisation that he had taken off his wedding ring, no longer feeling the cold metal against your skin – it was only his warmth alone that welcomed you. Your chest suddenly felt immensely full, overwhelmed by his love and affection, but also by the guilt that came for your previous words and actions that night. Your furrowed your brows, your tears clouding your vision once more, “Luci, I…I’m so sorry. I-I’m sorry for pushing you too much. I was being too selfish a-and I didn’t even stop to think about how you felt. I-I should’ve been more understanding and–”

Lucifer was quick to hush you, wiping your tears and shaking his head. “Darling, no. There’s no need for you to apologise, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one in the wrong. And if anything, I needed that push.” He then leans in to press a lingering smooch on your forehead, “But I truly mean it when I say it, though. I do really love you. Being without you these past few days drove me insane–it’s crazy how much of an effect you have on me.” He tearfully chuckles.

A smile made its way up to your quivering lips, a blush dusting your cheeks from the sweet remark, “I love you too, Luci.”

Despite the wide grin that erupted on his face, it was humbled down by a tentative guise. “...Are we going to be okay?” He quietly asks, his eyes peering up at you in a hopeful manner. Your eyes softened at his uncertainty. Sniffling, you reach out and pull him into a hug, your face huddled into the crook of his neck. Lucifer was quick to return the gesture, holding you close and breathing in your comforting scent. Mumbling a response into his neck, you say something incomprehensible, causing the man to chuckle softly into your hair. “Come on. Use your words, love,” he teased against your ear. You giggled, all the while nodding your head, “Y-Yeah…we’ll be okay.”

At that, Lucifer gently slowly pulled away, before leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours. The King inhaled your whimpers as the kiss grew increasingly sensual and near-desperate, his hands beginning to wander down your waist. Lucifer then stood up from the ground, your lips remaining connected as he pushed you flat against the bed. Straddling your hips between his legs, his lips began to trail down your neck, biting and pecking at your feverish skin, all the while dragging his hands up your sides to pin your hands beside either side of your head. "Luci, please," you whined, feeling his sharp teeth graze above your pulse. He slowly made his way back up to meet you once more, pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

Eventually, the both of you unwillingly parted for air, foreheads pressed together as you both took a brief moment to catch your breath. You both stared at each other lovingly, basking in each others' presence. “You’re perfect for me, my angel,” Lucifer whispers, softly pecking both your cheeks, your nose, then at your lips, “never forget that.”

It was clear that the both of you had some work to do, there was no question about that. He wasn’t as perfect as he made out to be, but neither were you. But since you have each other’s company, and with your newfound reconnection, you both knew that things will eventually turn out okay.

A/N: And that brings us to the very end! Thank you for reading and all the support you've shown for this mini-series! I'll now be focusing on requests~

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

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sweet-as-an-angel · 11 months

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Miguel Having A Crush On You Would Include…

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Yandere Miguel, Miguel in Love, Vampire Marking, Marking (Kind Of), Fluff, Typical Crush Behaviour, Petnames/Nicknames, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Him being absolutely OBSESSED with you.

Literally completely feral, down bad, infatuated, etc.

Initially, when he realised he’d started liking you in a romantic sense, he tried pushing you away; tried drowning his feelings in work, missions, Hell – even resolving petty spats between the Spiderpeople at the base. Anything to exorcise this rising feeling of butterflies in his chest whenever you were around. Vulnerability.

However, you were persistent.

You’d bring him lunch whenever you knew it would be a long day in the office for him, telling him that “Even the best superhero needs a sandwich every now and then!”

And by God were your sandwiches phenomenal.

Though he’d never admit it, his heart would skip a beat whenever the door to his office opened, knowing that it could be you paying him a visit with your delectable lunchables, or even just to check in on him. Make him feel special in ways nobody else had or could in years.

Eventually, this turned into a daily affair; one Miguel would watch the clock for, wait for. Long for.

Miguel also tried hiding his feelings when you brought him hand-crafted, love-filled desserts that he just couldn’t bring himself to ignore or throw away. Or, when Miles offered to take them off his hands, let anyone else have.

Eventually, there isn’t a day that goes by where you aren’t with him in some capacity. And it shows.

Whenever you’re late, even only by a few minutes, Miguel can feel his heart spike, asking Lyla where you are, if she can track you, etc.

“Sounds like you liiiike (Y/N)~” Lyla gives Miguel a knowing smile.

Miguel just grunts, ignores her. Though, he can feel the corners of his lips turning up, and hides them behind a well-placed hand, rubbing his temples.

Soft glances whenever you’re in the room, all his attention turning to you and you alone.

He just loves to stare at you. You’re so beautiful that he can’t understand why nobody else passing you has to stitch their dropped jaw back onto their face.

Then again, he is grateful. The fury that bubbles inside him whenever he catches someone glancing at you, gaze lustful, is all-consuming, enough to make his teeth grind, his eyes bleed a light rouge hue, piercing. He makes sure they’ll never cross paths with you again.

Gradually, your warmth and kindness thaws his walls, and, once the floodgates are open, neither you nor he can predict the dark ocean that is to flood your lives.

He doesn’t mean to throw himself full-force into his feelings, but after being so guarded for so long, he just can’t help it.

Becomes overly-concerned with every facet of your life. More so than he already was.

Constantly trying to find out information about you, though being stumped as to how to do so without arousing your suspicion.

Asks Lyla to track you, see what you’re doing, who you’re with, their relation to you.

However, she begins to deny Miguel such luxuries, telling him to “Grow a pair and ask (Y/N) yourself!”

When he realises Lyla is steadfast in her resolve, he does so. Reluctantly.

Though, once he starts, he finds it difficult to stop.

“Where are you going after work?”, “Are you going out tonight with anyone?”, “Who?”

Eventually, you just look up at him, seemingly oblivious to his growing desperation, and say: “Gosh, Miguel, you’re starting to sound like you’re my boyfriend or something!”

His heart stops. His throat dries and he just looks at you, eyes wide.

One second passes. Then two. Then–

“Oh– uh– yeah... I mean, not that that’s weird, right? Unless you think it is weird, then–”

Lyla has to step in and save him from himself, telling him he has ‘urgent business’ in one of the other wings of the facility.

His suit suddenly feels too tight and too hot beneath the collar whenever he has to speak with you alone.

And tight in…other places when his mind wanders to the more intimate aspects of your hypothetical relationship.

Miguel likes to rationalise this as him preparing how best to please you when the time, inevitably, comes for him to claim you, make you his. At least, this staves off the post-nut clarity (guilt) just a little longer when he’s pursuing a release, blasphemous images of you running through his mind.

A good example of this occurs almost nightly, with Miguel thoroughly loving a pillow clad in a shirt he’d lent you once, your scent still woven, though faded, into the fabric.

Many nights, his face is pressed to the cotton of that shirt, muffling his lips and his moans as his teeth sink into your temporary body, extending, marking, hand moving fervently beneath the bed sheets, your name the chant of many a spell of ardour.

You might mistake that red glow on his cheeks for the illumination of the console screens, but anyone who looks close enough knows better.

He loves showing you around the facility. Especially when your eyes light up and you remark how intelligent he is for “Doing this all on your own,”

Any compliment from you makes his heart thrum and his cheeks burn with the urge to smile. And, if it’s only you in his company, he does so.

Maybe even give you a nervous laugh.

You’re the only one he feels comfortable with showing emotion to.

He hopes that his displays aren’t lost on you; that you know him well enough to know that every smile, every laugh, is for you and you only.

And he is determined to, one day, make that smile of yours for him. And only him.

But, for now, he will content himself with daydreams and night ventures into territory not yet known, all the while possessing a seat beside you, being a shoulder for you to cry on, an ear into which you may pour your worries, a hero on whom you can always depend in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

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rahhhbananas · 10 months

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✭ ✭ ✭ 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐍 ✭ ✭ ✭ ft. a lot of characters

summary. Y/n is very protective of his son (aka Spider Plush).

warning(s). He/Him pronouns, foul language, Hobie is a major bully

a/n. Y/n and Spider-Plush are the new Miguel and Lego Spider-Man

“He is a person! And you will treat him that way!”

The voice of Y/n welcomed the newly woken society. It was around 7 am, and a commotion had begun in Miguel’s office. As the sun lazily illuminated the sky, Miles groggily made his way towards Miguel's office, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes. He couldn't fathom why there was such a commotion at this early hour. "Why is there so much yelling? It's 7 in the morning...!" he groaned, his voice laced with exhaustion. Miles walked through the door, greeting Gwen and Peter B. who were watching the scene amused. Miles looked to see Y/n in a heated debate with both Miguel and Hobie, although it was mostly Hobie, Miguel was sitting down, trying to sooth an incoming migraine.

Pavitr stood at Y/n’s side, cradling a….Spider-Man…plushie? “What is going on here..” Miles who was now wide awake stared at the situation, looking at Gwen for answers. Gwen responded with a chuckle “Get this…their arguing because Hobie skipped Spider-Plush in line for breakfast.” Gwen managed to say between fits of laughter. Miles gave Gwen a look “So, he doesn’t believe in consistency and he doesn’t believe in manners?” Miles watched Y/n, who looked like he was on the brink of committing murder, due to Hobie’s nonchalant face. Peter chimed in, catching a swinging Mayday “I don’t think he did it to be rude. Maybe because he likes getting on Y/n’s nerves,”

Jess who just walked in looked at Peter, “This early morning air finally gave you a brain?” She walked towards Miguel, handing him water and probably a headache pill. Miguel thanked Jess, looking up at the continuing argument. “Yeah..and how did Pavitr get into all this?” Miles questioned, Gwen laughed, for what seemed to be the 4th time “That’s even funnier! He’s trying to take Hobie to court,” Miles smiled, seeing the obvious amusement in the situation “Yeah, somehow he’s got a diploma in that stuff.” Jess chimed in from the computer.

“That’s not the fucking point, Hobart! My son deserves respect! You’ve made him cry!” Y/n gestures to the “crying” plushie, and Pavitr who’s nodding in agreement. Hobie scoffed “Cryin? He’s got a tear sticker on ‘is face! You’ve got yourself fooled!”. This was Miguel’s last straw, he finally flipped the table, literally, sending everything flying— including the cup of water, that Spider-Plush was now drowned in. Gasp filled the small crowd, the laughter coming to a halt to stare at Y/n who was breathing heavily, trying to calm down.

Y/n slowly turned, looking at the soaked Spider-Plush. The plush squeaked, comical tears spewing from its large eyes. Y/n turned to Miguel and Hobie— the latter raised his hands, in a attempt to prove his innocence, he instead pointed to the leader who sported a small bead of sweat, his posture straightened “Umm, that was an accident- I was trying to de-escalate the situation. My anger over took…” Y/n pounced on Miguel, not letting him finish his sentence. Miguel tried to pull the other off his face, stumbling around while knocking things over.

“I-it was an accident!”

“YOU HORRIBLE PERSON!”

“GAAH! WHERE DID THESE CLAWS COME FROM?”

“DON’T….WORRY ABOUT IT!”

“JESSGETHIMOFFME!”

“Sorry, Miguel. I’m not getting into this fight.”

“APOLOGIZE OR SUFFER!”

“AHHHH!”

The crowd watched in silence as Miguel walked out with a bucket on his head, drenched in water. Y/n, on the other hand, walked out cradling his son, the plush wrapped in a towel, Y/n cooed trying to calm down the squeaks emitting from the plushie. Y/n walks up to the group, staring directly at Hobie “Hobart. My lawyer will contact you.” Y/n pointed to Pavitr, and somehow the teen was in a suit. Hobie chuckled, “Fair enough.” Hobie looked at Gwen “Gwendy. Ya down to be my lawyer?” Gwen shook her head “Nope, your not dragging me into this.” Hobie sighed in defeat “Alrigh’ Miles, see ya in a suit on Tuesday.” Hobie shook said boys shoulders, before running off, leaving the boy no time to complain.

Y/n looked at his boyfriend, tutting his head “Fine. Miles. You wanna play that game? Helping my enemy!” Y/n groaned, pulling shades from seemingly nowhere, while also putting them on “I want my child support by Friday,” Y/n said, striding away, Pavitr shuffling after him, the stuff suit preventing him from running.

Meanwhile, Miles stood shocked “Child support? Wha…what is he talking about!” Gwen shook her head disapprovingly “Come on Miles, don’t play dumb, take responsibility.” She advised before departing, leaving Peter who shook his head as well “Don’t worry kid, we’ve all been there..” Peter smiles, before joining the rest.

“Wha- what are you guys talking about!”

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milequaritchsslut · 11 months

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imagine you and Miguel getting caught doing IT …

This would definitely happen during messy office sex.

You’d be bent over his desk, little whines and moans slipping out of you. His hips rutting into you with a devious pace, an animalistic feeling growing inside of him as you took him like a good girl. There’s sweat dripping down his neck as he holds your hands to your back and thrusts into you. Saying you were out of breathe was an understatement, the sounds of your squelching cunt and his grunts and groans egging on your release.

You were so so close, literally on the edge of your orgasm before one of Miguel’s coworkers opened the door. Miguel’s movements stopped right away as his face drained of any passion that he was feeling. His spider suit was bunched up in a pile between his legs, now showing his whole body. Your face shot towards his coworker, you were completely frozen in place. He let go of your hands and he stared at the man in the doorway still in shock. ‘I-I’m so sorry’ the man spoke, stuttering over his words as he covered his eyes and walked away after slamming the door shut.

You two were left speechless, embarrassment and shame filling the both of you as you stayed in silence. After awhile he pulled out of you as you sat up and turned to him, face flushed with a sheepish expression. ‘Uhm-‘ you blurted out, trying to find something to break the tension. ‘I know’ he said pinching the bridge of his nose in embarrassment and a sliver of anger. He let his words hang in the hair for a moment before he sighed ‘I’ll make sure nobody finds out ok mami?’ he said in a calmer and softer tone as he looked up at you from his seat. His hands snaked around your waist, pulling your hips closer to him.

‘You know I love you right?’ He asked softly, looking at you with a kinder expression, trying his best to cut the tension. You nodded, your face blushing at how close he was to your heat. ‘Good’ he got up and kissed your cheek, pulling his suit back up, and handing you your underwear.

‘I’ll see you at home baby’

#miguel x you #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara

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asmosmainhoe · 4 months

Text

MC's eyes glow when they use magic

Hello ☆ I hope u're having a nice day :D I had one request for the Obey Me brothers kek, their reaction to an MC whose eyes glow when they use magic, and when they use the demons powers their eyes change color to the sin color (Ex. Red for Beel, Blue for Luci, etc) and it feels as if they connect with MC in a deeper level? Sorry if its too weird or specific! I've been enjoying reading your writings 🤗

-anon

Note: I'm so sorry that it's so short, love! I've been so busy preparing things for the holidays since I'm visiting my home country :'D

Gender: neutral

Warnings: heavy language

Lucifer

He loves the fact that your eyes glow in the color of his sin when you channel his magic

It fills him with pride to see how that makes the connection between you two so obvious for others

That's right. That's his power

"I must say that blue suits you wonderfully."

He's very casual about it, but he's definitely doing a small dancy dance of victory behind closed doors

Mammon

Of course he is head over heels for your glowing eyes when you channel his magic! They basically look like the shiniest coins he has ever seen!

Besides it makes it more than obvious that you guys have a pact together

"Fuck yea! That's my human over there!"

Please use his power so that people know you're fucking shit up with his help

Leviathan

Levi is absolutely geeking out over the fact that your fucking eyes glow when you use magic

I mean if that doesn't scream main character vibes then I don't know what does

He's so going to use that as inspiration for rpg's or headcanons/fanfictions in the future

And then they glow in his sin's color too when you channel his magic? It's so strangelt intimate that he can't help, but blush

Satan

Since he has read about it he's not really surprised by that, but it's still a huge difference to see it with his own eyes

Especially when he feels you channeling his powers and your eyes light up in his color

Seeing that makes Satan feel like someone punched him in the guts, but in a good way? If that makes sense?

Asmodeus

Your eyes are literally glowing in not only his magics colors, but it's also his absolute favorite one as well!

"MC, you look fantastic when you use my powers! Absolutely stunning!"

Asmo can't stop gushing about it and he always compliments you for an hour straight whenever it happens

This is what others must feel like when he's seducing them with his eyes

Beelzebub

Imagine you have this angry, skilled sorcerer person absolutely wreck your shit, because you wronged them, but their eyes also glow red?! How intimidating is that?

Unlike the person who is suffering under your magic, Beel is completely mesmerized

He can't find the right words to describe how wonderful you look with his color right now

It makes him forget about his hunger

Belphegor

Belphie is so smug about it and can and will rub it under everyone's nose

"Did MC use your magic? No, bitch. Their eyes were purple so sit down."

It's just a very nice and absolute confirmation for the fact that he is your favorite and that his magic was the most useful one to you in that moment

His brothers will never hear the end of it, because he keeps casually mentioning it at every given opportunity

---

Masterlist

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hysteria-things · 1 month

Note

i REALLYYY need a sub matt fic plsss i read the one when he gets hard from seeing her in a bathing suit but can u do one where the triplets are like filming a video and she like like bends down to get something and sees how flustered it makes matt so then she just continues to do stuff like that like stand in front of him and "accidentally" backing up into him yea like stuff like that u know the rest 😁😁😁 (if so could u pls add a little bit of a mommy kink obviously if not that's totally fine)

PLEASE ME

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: while filming a video with the sturniolo triplets, you notice matt acting strange so abruptly. when you realize what it’s about, you want to take advantage of it.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, unintentional teasing lol, handjob, p in v, mommy kink, begging kink, praising, a little degradation, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), breeding, ROUGH

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 912

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: these requests are literally all the same LMAO

i’m sorry if the mommy kink isn’t RAGING for some reason typing that out makes me cringe a little😭

EDIT: hi second anon i’m very sorry i forgot to put the tata sucking that’s so my bad💔

matt couldn’t help but stare. the boys decided to go roller skating for fun and film for wednesday’s vlog. currently, matt’s at the booth you guys picked out to rest while his brothers are still on the floor.

you wanted to rest your feet as well, so for now, you’re in charge of filming the two over the loud music and other people.

he watches as your body is hunched over the wall dividing the rink to the main area, your skirt lifted ever so slightly. you look so attractive to him, his pants tightening as he looks in your direction.

“that’s good for now, thanks y/n!” chris says as he skates by, giving you a thumbs up.

your giggle fills matt’s ears, his hips having a mind of their own. he thrusts softly into the edge of the table, whining lowly.

“are you alright?” you question, now standing in front of his face.

his eyes are wide like he’s scared. you have a look of genuine fear on your face because he’s been acting fine all night until this moment. “holy shit, matt. seriously, are you okay?”

“i-i need to use the bathroom.” he stammers, quickly getting out of his skates and speed-walking to the other side of the building.

“matt, hold on!” you call out, but he ignores you. you stumble to get your skates off, sprinting after the boy.

catching up to him as he’s about to enter the boy’s room, you grab his wrist and turn him around. his eyes are tearing up as if he’s about to start crying or something. “matt, what the hell?”

“it hurts.” he pouts, looking down at the ground.

face visibly confused, you try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. “what hurts?”

he slowly removes his jacket from in front of his pants, revealing the raging boner through his jeans. “oh.”

his lip quivers, still avoiding eye contact from the embarrassment. “it hurts so fucking bad.” he whines louder.

honestly, you feel bad for him, but that doesn’t mean you still can’t help… right?

before his brain can comprehend what’s going on, you push him into the restroom and lock the door, laying him down on the ottoman that’s in the center of the spacious room.

biting your lip, you bring your hand down to the inside of his pants, palming him through his underwear. he moans desperately, a wet spot forming from the pre-cum.

he’s so sensitive that he’s twitching already, and that’s your sign to wrap your small hand around his dick, moving up and down.

“what a pretty boy, you are.” you coo, his eyes fluttering back with a positive hum. taking your thumb, you move it on his swollen tip. his poor dick is aching for a release, or even better, to be inside of you.

you feel him tighten, moving your hand faster and faster with each pump. squirming rapidly below you, he sticks his tongue out from the pleasure. “i’m gonna cum!” he moans.

you tut. “ask.”

he mewls, eyes closing shut while panting uncontrollably. “please let me cum, mo—”

you smirk amusingly, knowing damn well what was going to fall past his lips. “who?”

sniffling, he now looks at you with a pleading face. “can i cum, mommy?”

giving permission, he spurts his hot liquid down his shaft, but you don’t stop. you keep pumping, hovering over him and slipping your panties to the side with your free hand. “such a good boy.” you praise.

he loves that.

matt hisses once you start to bounce slowly on his cock, still feeling stimulated from his high. it hurts him, but it feels too good at the same time.

his mouth hangs wide, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you start to gradually get faster.

whines and whimpers echo along the walls. thank goodness the music is so loud outside, otherwise people will be able to hear how pathetic he sounds.

you moan too, but not as loud as he is. his voice mind as well be gone by the end of this.

the way your walls engulf him perfectly rubs him the right way, biting his lip and whining nonstop. you whisper praises into his ear, knowing that it gets him closer.

“mo-mmy.” he says high-pitched. “please let me cum i-inside you. please, mommy.”

the begging has you clench, lips ghosting his. “you’re so pathetic right now, i love it.”

eyes crossing, he spills deep into your cunt you can feel it in your stomach. he shakes his head frantically. “e-enough. it hurts too good!”

“come on, baby.” you kiss him sloppily, hands tangling in his hair and tugging at it in the process. “you don’t want mommy to milk you dry?”

tears start trickling down his cheeks, and cries and sobs of pleasure enter your mouth as he tries to kiss you back.

the previous orgasm still leaks, but another one comes rushing in. he’s cumming so much to the point where you’re full, and the rest smears out of the sides of your pussy.

moaning one final time, you release what you were holding around him.

he twitches at the slightest touch, eyes still crossed from the ecstasy that flowed through his body in the short amount of time.

it’s crazy to think about, but you were best friends at the beginning of the night. now the night ended with you pumped full of his cum.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mattsdollie @catalina-island @mbsbaby @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

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pupcuck · 5 months

Text

LOVEY-DOVEY !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. ddlg, daddy dom/little girl duhh, leon feeling guilty for no reason, age gap, princess parts used once, an abundance of pet names, honestly just icky sappy smut, typical stuff like penetration n oral, praise kink

note. haiii :3 so insanely embarrassed to post this it’s insanely icky and soft for me .. but ignore typos as always :333 rbs n feedback greatly appreciated :33 crossposted on my ao3 clitkiss as usual, this is like very.. ddlg like he dresses u at one point but it’s only mentioned briefly

stocking filler

You and Leon are trying something new. Now, he’s no stranger to it, his moonlight trysts with Pornhub show that he’s an expert at it in fact. But that was back in his late twenties. Op in Spain made his brain go funny, and maybe it’s ‘cause Ashley is the perfect subject for it - DDLG that is. She batted her lashes up at, clung to his arms, and she needed him, relied on him. In turn, he spent his days balls deep in videos like Daddy’s Little Girl Punished For Staying Up Past 8 PM, and even classier ones like Big Cock Daddy Fucks Tiny Tit Teen Girlfriend Till She Squirts (ANAL + THROATFUCKING)! Even the occasional Step-Daughter Chokes On Step-Daddy’s Fat Cock While Mommy Sleeps! Very tasteful, very nuanced, very discreet. So yeah, not to brag, but Leon’s kind of a porn connoisseur. Dabbled in every category.

The DDLG thing got boxed up and shelved away quick. Made him feel guilty, post-nut clarity set in the second he’d milked himself dry. Then he’d lay there for hours with a sticky palm and a heavy heart. Hasn’t thought about it in years, these days Leon’s more into Busty Dom Mommy Pegs Scrawny, Ugly, Sissy Slut In Business Suit! and if he’s really feeling up for it Stupid Fucking Bitch Takes Two Dicks At Once! The titular bitch actually only took one dick at a time despite the two dicks present, quite misleading in his humble opinion. No more creepy daddy stuff though. Those days are over; he hasn’t thought about it in twenty years give or take. Claire sent him this ‘Get porn sites taken down for women blah blah blah’ petition, he signed it, clicked out of the tab and got down to watching some silly slut get fucked within an inch of her life.

It’s more of a boredom thing. Honest. Leon watches porn to fill in gaps of space throughout his day; he nods his head thoughtfully when the man so affectionately titled Blue-Collar Bear slams into the Preppy Spoiled Twink. This is all getting away from him, the point is, Leon hasn’t thought about the dreaded topic of DDLG for literal decades. Then you walk in, and Leon’s sat there listening to you prattle on about Pompompurin and Chococat, an entire lineup of characters that he now knows off by heart.

Oh, is that right, sweetheart? Cinnamoroll’s a puppy, not a bunny? Wow, I didn’t know that, baby, fascinating ain’t it? Miffy‘s from the Netherlands, god, she’s gotta be careful over there in Amsterdam, honey. They don’t call that place Sin City for no reason, the red light district is no joke. Oh, I see, she’s from Utrecht? Ah, guess she’s safe then, I’m glad. What’s her name? That’s your favourite, Cogimyun? That’s a mouthful, ain’t it? She looks like a cloud. No? She's not? She’s a what-? Made of wheat flour? Oh! Well, that’s real funny, baby. Bet she don’t do well on windy days.

You don’t tell him outright. But he knows. Leon tries to tell himself that you’re just like this, that you buy cutesy, girly stickers to make yourself happy, that you fill his bedroom with soft toys ‘cause you simply like ‘em, turn them around when you fuck as a joke. But it’s clear, the headspace you’re left in after sex gives it away, haven’t let the D word slip so far, Leon’s banking on it being soon though.

He pets your head before you leave the house one day, you beam up at him, apples of your cheeks rounded with how hard you're smiling. “Love you, daddy!” You chirp all too loudly, jaw dropping open a moment later at your own blunder. Then you skitter out the front door unnervingly like a deer with CWD.

Called it. Made a bet on it even. Leon takes fifty out of his savings account, owes it to himself. You looked awful upset, he sends you a message, tells you to be safe, text him when you meet your friends. You do. Somehow, even the message is clipped. Poor baby, you’re embarrassed. The colour had drained from his face when you said it. You’d noticed for sure.

You’re younger than him, much younger. Too many years younger. An age gap that makes his head spin. Leon tries not to dwell on it, but it gets real hard. Claire’s always down his throat about it. When you go out in public together, he’ll sneak a hand in your back pocket and get stared down by every passer-by. He’s been asked if he’s your dad before. Blow to his ego. Considered botox and filler for the entirety of the following week. Certainly not your dad, possibly your daddy. Now you’ve cemented that in place - you want Leon to be your daddy, and he’ll fill those shoes.

Even if it leaves a bad taste on his tongue, even if it makes his skin crawl. Leon is willing to lay down his life for you half of the time, best thing that ever happened to him, so what harm is a little DDLG gonna do? He just needs to get comfortable with it, refamiliarise himself with all the lingo. How hard could it be? The guilt? He can get over it, even if it clings to him like a festering scab.

When you come back home it’s late, he barely hears your footsteps. You’ve learnt how to make yourself scarce when returning on late nights, Leon’s a light sleeper. A jumpy one at that. He smells jasmine when you pull back the covers, the mattress dips and he turns to face you.

“Fuck!” You gasp, brows pinched together, he runs his thumb over the divot that’s formed between them. “You scared me, Leon.”

“Not that ugly am I?” He juts his bottom lip out, it pulls a laugh out of you, and that makes him smile. You were emanating gloom and doom the second you stepped into the bedroom. Clear skies now.

“Never, you’re sooo handsome.” You kiss the tip of his nose, smear pink Vaseline on it.

“You know just what I wanna hear, don’t you, baby?” Apart from daddy. He’d make the joke, but you’d likely flip out. Leon shuts his mouth. He’s gotten better at doing that lately. Must be the effect you’ve had on him. “Baby?”

“Yes?”

“About today—“

“Leon.” It’s a warning.

“Baby.”

“Leon.” Clearly you want to brush it under the rug. “It was just a slip-up, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, so can we just drop it?” Uh, woah, someone’s defensive.

“Baby, it didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Leon strokes your cheek, his cold hands warmed by the heat of your dewy skin. It made him mildly uncomfortable. That’s ‘cause he grapples with all these I’m a dirty old man that deserves to be crucified, Claire’s right I’m a fucking cradlerobber, I should let her go, I’ll be dead by the time she’s ready to get married thoughts. You’re this pretty young thing and it makes him tremendously nervous.

“I saw your face, Leon, I’m not stupid.” You’re getting huffy now, fluffing the pillows and turning away from him.

“Babe, I was just surprised, pinky promise.” Leon sticks his pinky finger into your line of sight, there’s silence, then the sheets ruffle and you’ve lifted your hand, shorter pinky wrapping around his.

“Like, pinky swear, Leon?” You sound so small, so scared, his heart aches.

“Baby,” he coos, “light of my life, angel, apple of my fuckin’ eye, sugar, dollface,” you hang onto every word, eyes getting bigger and wider by the second, “I knew the minute you showed me those Sylvanian Families.” You smack his chest and he laughs in your face.

“You’re an asshole and I hate you so much.” When he touches your cheek again, you’re burning up, he places a kiss behind your ear. “Stupid old man.”

“C’mon, baby, you think I’m dumb? You gave them names.” The Persian Cat triplets are named Serena, Nate and Blair. From Gossip Girl of course, he didn’t know what that was. Tedious is his review. Leon thought Henry, Tommy and Jimmy were more fitting names. You didn’t understand the reference. “You buy ‘em little plates and forks and cups, they’re living better than us, baby.” And that’s a fact. You splurged on a Red Roof Country House. Far nicer than his apartment, once empty, now filled with junk like that. No, it’s not junk, it’s his baby’s stuff, trinkets that make her happy.

“What if I just liked them?” You’re glaring at him, cutely of course, everything you do is saccharine.

“Just adds up, don’t it?” Leon gives you a big, wet kiss on your pouty lips. Tastes roses. Literally. He just swallowed a bunch of pink Vaseline. “What I wanted to say ‘fore you got all pissy on me,” he swallows the lump in his throat, fuck it, how bad could it go, he’s just making his favourite girl happy, “I don’t mind tryin’ it out.”

Rules are implemented the following morning, albeit loosely. Leon doesn’t have a lot of control over things, the DSO has jurisdiction over him, got him by the balls. And in turn, Leon’s just learnt how to take it like a good bitch. You handed him a pink glitter pen and a page from your Hello Kitty notebook. Asked him so sweetly to make a general set of rules, so you know how to be a good girl for daddy. Leon sprung a boner so fast he got nauseous. And that’s not even the sex part of this arrangement. He uses his black ballpoint pen, pink glitter isn’t his thing. Plus, it doesn’t show up on the paper.

You giggle when he hands them over to you; Leon’s ears flush pink. He’ll get better at it, swear. He wants to do well for you. Wants you to feel satisfied with his quote caregiving unquote.

It starts off slow, you hand him your toothbrush in the morning, Leon blinks at you in pure and utter befuddlement. You say Ah! like you would at the dentist and he gets it. Leon sits you on the closed lid of the toilet seat, making sure to get your molars, your canines, front teeth, and all the remaining ones. Five seconds each. Or he tries at least. You’re quite meticulous in this headspace, letting out a disgruntled noise when he fails to be precise.

Then you sit on the mat while he showers, like a puppy, didn’t even notice you were there until he opened the sliding door. “Hi there, babydoll.” Leon wraps a towel around his waist, “whatcha doin’ down there?”

“Waiting for daddy.” You tell him plainly, then trail after him as he gets ready. Right. He’s gotta pick out your clothes. What if you don’t like them? You’re so fussy with your style, spend hours tossing piece after piece out of the wardrobe, stomp your feet when the blouse you wanted to wear is in the laundry. Right now, you’re totally placid, lifting your arms when he asks as he puts you in a ribbed pink sweater and the frilly skirt you’re so fond of, knee high socks per usual, Mary Janes to finish it off. Oh. Yeah. This is bad. He’s in deep. You’re too cute. He thinks he wants to be your daddy forever.

“My dad’s been wanting to see you, Leon.” Ashley’s all grown up now, which makes him feel a bit sappy. Hypocritical really, he’s got a college girl back at home calling him daddy.

Dad… Daddy, I love you, when are you coming home?

Leon blinks to clear his mind, gives Ashley a plastic smile. “How’s he been?”

“Oh, you know how it is, he got a little sick over Halloween, but that guy, he’s always up and kicking.” Ashley brings a vanity out of her pocket, reapplies her lipstick. “Overall, he’s been good.”

Good girl, am I a good girl, daddy?

Jesus Christ, get a grip, man. “I’m glad, should take a rest that guy.”

“I know!” Ashley moves her plate to the side and lays out her entire makeup case on the table, picking out mascara. When he looks closely, her round mirror is printed with a vaguely familiar cartoon bunny. “He never listens, hasn’t been President for decades and he just works and works and works. That’s why you should call, tell him to take it easy.”

“What’s her name?” Leon frowns, jabs his thumb towards the compact.

“My Melody!” She answers, grinning at him with her pearly whites.

My Melody, Kitty, Keroppi, and Mimi, did you write that down, daddy? And there’s—

“Aren’t you too old for that, Ash?” Leon raises his brow, he’s not serious though, and she can tell.

“Hey, I liked Sanrio before it was cool in 2004, okay?” She tosses it all back in her clutch. Ashley’s too nice, if it were Claire she’d bite back with Aren’t you too old for your girlfriend, loser? And that would shut him up. “It was nice seeing you, Leon, I wanna meet your girlfriend next time, she seems sweet. And don’t forget to call dad, I’ll drop his number later.”

Call dad… Daddy? Daddy.

“Leon, don’t you think Chris looks like our dad?” Claire’s hijacked the DSO break room once again, she’s in town for some TerraSave presentation thingy. He wasn’t listening. Eyes glassed over as he gazes endlessly at her phone screen.

Dad. Dada. Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy.

“Huh?” Leon says dumbly.

Claire levels him with her stare. “You’ve been out of it today, what’s up?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs nonchalantly, wipes his clammy palms on his jeans. “Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Uh huh.” Claire’s not convinced. Shit. She totally knows. She sees right through you, Leon. She knows what dirty shit you’ve been up to, can see the shame on your face, and she’s building her case against you. “Anyway,” she begins, voice holding onto it’s suspicious edge, “I was saying, I found this photo album of our parents, doesn’t Chris look so much like dad?”

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Fuck. He needs a lobotomy. Stat. This is taking over his fucking life. A sizable chunk of his brain was removed in his sleep, and it’s been replaced by pink mushy goo. Different to the pinkish brain matter that resides inside one’s head. More a glittery pink goop that morphs into the shape of you. You’re jumping around in there, sliding down the sulci and fissures in his brain, lodging yourself deep in his mind. Making it your playground.

“You’re fucking impossible to talk to, Leon. You know that?” What’d you say Claire? He can’t hear you over the impossibly disgusting, perverted thoughts running through his mind.

The second he gets home, Leon is on you. Face between your tits, knee keeping your thighs open, kissing you breathless. “Daddy!” You giggle, delighted by the wave of affection.

“Babydoll,” Leon rubs his stubble against your cheeks to hear you squeal, “Daddy missed you so much.”

“I missed daddy sooo much too!”

“Oh, yeah? How much did you miss daddy?”

You stretch your arms as wide as they go. “This much, daddy!” Fuck. Holy fucking shit. He needs to start going to weekly mass again.

“Yeah?” Leon peppers kisses all over your little face, forehead to your neck, “what’d ya get up to?”

“Mmm,” you hum, tapping a finger against your lip thoughtfully, “coloured, ate ‘n got sleepy, daddy.”

“What an eventful day that is, baby.” Leon kisses your nose. “You colour something for daddy?” He needs to put his dick in you before he explodes.

“Mhm,” your lashes flutter when he sneaks a hand up your loose sweater, hanging off your shoulders, swallowing you up, “I put it in daddy’s office…” Your breath hitches when he rolls your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Daddy’s gonna hang it on the fridge tonight then.” Leon mumbles, too busy shoving his naughty hand down your pyjama shorts, cupping your mound. Your fingers tremble as you lift the hem of your sweater, baring your tits for him, he takes your nipple into his mouth. Bites down to hear you gasp. Latches on like a damn baby, groping the other tit roughly.

“Daddy,” you whimper, and the sound alone makes his dick twitch. Leon pulls off with a pop, spit dripping down his chin.

“I know, baby,” Leon coos, “daddy’s gonna take care of you.” Dirty old man! blares Claire’s voice in the back of his mind. Leon can’t find it in himself to care. Watch this, bitch. “You want daddy to play with your princess parts, babydoll?” You heard that right, princess parts. He’s been sucked in that deep.

You nod, brows pinched together as you bunch up the sheets in your curled fists. Leon clicks his tongue, presses a kiss below your belly button. “Words, baby.” He reminds you, his tone delicate, only lightly chiding.

“Need daddy… need him to play with me,” it’s barely a mumble, but Leon takes it. He knows how jumbled your head gets in this mindset. Poor baby, play with your clit and it turns you all stupid.

Leon gets to work. He’s been waiting for it all day, to get his mouth on this perfect cunt. He spreads you out, urges you to go wider, as far as you can. Licks over the fabric of your cotton panties, his nose nestled against your swollen clit, sucking on the wet patch on the gusset. The constant nudge of his nose against your clit is making you antsy, your chest rises and falls, your fingers itch to tug at his hair, but you’re an obedient girl so you keep them down by your sides. Clutch at the sheets till your nails break.

He continues to lick and suck at your leaky centre through the fabric for an eternity. You have your complaints, but you can’t say no to daddy. That’s, like, against the rules. So Leon has his fun, maybe a little too much fun. You let out a strained noise, and enough is enough, you’re being so good for him, so patient. His little girl deserves a treat. Once you’ve creamed your panties that is.

“God,” you toss your head back and melt when his tongue flattens over your bare folds, he’d thrown your panties into the laundry basket a minute prior, good aim.

“Hey, give me some credit, baby,” Leon takes a break from tongueing you down, “God’s not doing shit down here, it’s all your daddy.”

That makes you giggle. Then you call out daddy so sweetly his brain blanks. He spits on your sticky core, you’re wet enough, but Leon likes it sloppy, wants to feel your mess dripping down his chin. His teeth scrape your clit, pulls the hood back, kitten licks it, kisses it three times for good luck.

“Don’t cover your mouth, baby,” Leon places a big hand on your hip, holds you in place, “Daddy didn’t say you could do that.”

“Sorry… ‘M sorry, daddy,” you whine, the hand once clasped over your mouth falling limp, and you’re moaning like a fucking pornstar. He can’t handle it. That word does something to him, something evil and degenerate.

He pushes your cushiony lips together, pinches your clit when it sticks out, makes the nastiest sounds known to mankind. Messy eater. Schlurping, schmacking, gulping. What he’s gulping down? God knows. Two fingers slip into you, knuckle-deep, wriggle around, scissor you open, his palm mashed into your clit. Leon’s face is resting on your plush thigh, admiring his own handiwork. Your slick cunt, drooling all down his wrist, covered his face in it, now you're cumming in messy spurts.

“Atta girl,” Leon croons, lays it on thick with the praise ‘cause he knows you get shy about this, “that’s right, dollface, just let it all out for, daddy, huh?”

Panting, you curl into yourself, kick your legs a little when his nimble fingers find your sticky clit, he can feel you throbbing. “No more, daddy.” You beg, rubbed raw from the back-to-back orgasms.

“Too much, baby?” Leon’s hand comes to cop a feel, his nose pressing into the nape of your neck. “Can you get daddy off?”

The energy seems to zap back into you within an instant. You nod, head bobbing up and down like it should be doing on his dick. You love having your mouth full, keep his cock down your throat till you go numb. Suckle on it with pride and integrity. You gaze up at him with those eyes, heart-shaped pupils and all, blowjob eyes.

“How’d you want daddy?” Leon asks, you roll over, laying flat on your back, you want him like that? Alright, naughty girl. With your head between his meaty thighs, Leon guides his weeping tip past your swollen lips, you lap at the slit, collecting droplets of his precum on your tongue.

“Shit,” Leon gets out through gritted teeth, covers it with a cough, he shouldn’t really be saying bad words, not setting a good example for his baby. The suction is crazy, feels like he stuck his dick into the tube of a vacuum cleaner. Your cheeks hollow out as he thrusts his hips forwards, tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag each time. Still take it like a champ though. You always do, his good fucking girl. “Doin’ so damn well, baby, makin’ daddy cum.”

Your little hand comes to rest on his abdomen, Leon eases up, lets his fat cock slip out of your mouth, he thinks you’ve had enough, but you go for his balls instead. Open your mouth wide as you try to fit ‘em in your mouth. “No chance, baby.” Leon smiles, patting your head, you lick along the seam and his dick is fucking throbbing. Hail fucking Mary. “Not gonna last, babydoll, can daddy fuck you now or ya need a break?”

You nod, he raises a brow, “No, daddy, I’m fine, daddy. Need daddy in me so bad.” You croak out, throat sore from the time spent with his cock lodged in your windpipe.

That makes him groan. The non-explicit dirty talk is fuckin’ weird, turns him on in ways he can’t explain. He loves when you avoid saying the word pussy, can’t say cock, makes it sound even dirtier. Maybe it’s the control aspect. You can’t say those words ‘cause daddy said so, ‘cause Leon said so.

His dick jumps the second he tries to slide in, bumps against your sensitive clit, shit, that hasn’t happened since he was twenty. Leon grabs your ankles, kisses one before he throws them over his shoulders, uses one hand to guide his dick to your sloppy hole and the other is intertwined with your smaller one. Tender, sappy, sweet. Oh, don’t make him tear up, princess. With age he’s softened up. For you Leon has softened up. Brought back part of who he was before it all went wrong.

“My pretty girl,” he pets your cheek like he does the neighbour’s well-fed cat, and you lean into it all the same. He fills you up so well. No matter how much Leon plays with your pussy, there’s always a stretch, and he can tell by the look on your face. Nose scrunching, lips parting, letting out a sharp breath as the weight of his cock knocks against your cervix. “All done, baby.” Leon tells you, and you open your eyes, sit up on your elbows to see where the two of you meet in a sticky, squelching embrace. “Well done, baby, you’re such a big girl, takin’ all of daddy, aren’t you?” Leon presses his hand down on your lower tummy, his cock angles upwards so he can hit that spongy spot deep inside, the one that makes you sob. “Is it there?”

The cry you let out is the confirmation he needs. He bullies his cock into you, fucks you rough ‘cause he loves you. Making love is for mornings, when you’re sleepy and pliant, nasty fucking is for after work. When he’s pent up, when you’ve been on his mind all day. Leon pulls out, only his tip keeping your cunt spread open, then he slams back in, and you begin to sniffle, squeezing his hand so tight you cut off his blood circulation.

“Daddy,” You drop his hand, nails clawing down his back, his lonely hand suffering from a severe case of pins and needles, “daddy, daddy, daddy— oh, daddy!” It’s the only thing you can say. Stuffed your cunt and your head is full of him too. Leon adores you. Prettiest girl in the whole world and you’re here speared on his cock. Dexterous fingers find your clit once more, helping you reach the edge.

“You can do it, baby, don’t worry, daddy’s here.” Leon dips his head down, kisses you and swallows up your sounds, stringy spit keeping the two of you connected. Red string of fate or whatever. “Daddy’s right here, daddy loves you.”

All it took was the L word, and you’re squirting. Pushing his cock out, dripping down his heavy balls, digging your nails into his back, chanting daddy like your life depends on it. And Leon can’t take it, he’s been ready to bust the second he got home, his stomach contracts, spills his seed into your wet cunt. Messy just how he likes it.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Leon lets his full weight drop on top of you.

You grunt softly, “Heavy, daddy.”

“Yeah, I know, gimme a second.” Leon grumbles, teeth tugging on your earlobe. “How’d you rate me? Five stars? Ten out of ten?”

You yawn into his hair, “Stop bein’ silly, daddy.”

#leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader

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kirbyskisses · 11 months

Text

miguel o’hara x reader || “te amo” (masterlist)

the first night miguel is in your universe fills him with all sorts of conflicting emotions.

wc: 1,063

cw: an angsty line or two, light mention of blood. (minors/ageless blogs don’t interact)

—

when miguel quite literally inserts himself into your life he‘s not always sure what to do or what to say.

yes, he’s watched your miguel; he’s seen all his similarities and all the intricacies of this earth and memorized them through screens and study but he hadn’t plotted or planned to be here.

this earth’s miguel died. he saw an opportunity and he took it. a spur of the moment decision to pursue this happier life.

it should be easy.

just be miguel o’hara.

but when he first comes through the door of his house so early in the morning that the outside is covered in darkness, being “miguel o’hara” is the hardest thing in the world.

this is not his home. its layout is similar, but it’s filled with a love he’s never had before.

the fridge is decorated with baby photos and newspaper clippings of spider-man, a suit identical to his own. love permeates through every inch of the place.

it permeates through pictures of a precious baby girl who couldn’t be more than a few months. the daughter of the other miguel. the one he gets to father.

and you - the wife. his wife. the most beautiful woman in the world.

the woman who doesn’t know that her real husband is dead and replaced. the one rushing towards him before he can even process any guilt of what being that replacement might mean.

“¡míguel! do you have any idea what time it is?!”

he does.

he knows it’s 3am and that you were like likely waiting up for your husband - for the miguel o’hara of this earth to come back. he knows all to well that the bloodied, beaten miguel he walked by never will come back - there’s only him for you to chastise for worrying you so badly.

and he knows this is the moment where it is too late to turn back, too late to leave to his own nueva york because how could he? it would be unbearable to leave you alone with your sweet little girl to wake up in the morning in a world with no husband, no father and no spider-man.

he’ll take the anger and worry of coming home late if he can prevent that.

it’s better for the both of you.

it’s better that he’s your miguel o’hara now. it’s better that you’re his wife now.

it’s better this way, he convinces himself.

“we made a deal, papí!” you huff, all too ready to reprimand him. “tonight was your night to put her down! we said no web-slinging unless there was a total emergency…”

you trail off, eyes meeting his. they look relieved and tired and overwhelmed for a reason you can’t configure. your voice immediately softens once you realize your words, be they english or spanish, have no way of getting through.

“¿míguel…?”

he doesn’t respond, and when you put your hand on his grizzled cheek he sinks into your touch wordlessly as if it is the first time he has ever felt such romantic softness.

“qué te pasa, papí?” you stroke his face, taking a long look at him. “there…was an emergency, wasn’t there? you know you can tell me anything - ay!!”

you let out a yelp of surprise as he pulls you into him, leaning down to smell your hair and squeeze your small form tight - he wants to memorize everything. all the sensory details that he couldn’t get through lyla or a screen.

he mumbles, gruffly. “we lost a good one today… couldn’t save him. i’m sorry…”

and you whisper his name and hold tight, unaware of what he really means because how could you be? but he doesn’t feel any remorse for deceiving you - for letting you think he means some good natured cop.

after all, so many spider-men have lost one before. how is this any different?

how could he feel remorse when you hum in sympathy and kiss up and down his face? your lips are so soft and reassuring, as is your voice.

“it wasn’t your fault, papí. even spider-man can’t save everyone. i’m just happy you’re home safe and alive.”

that almost breaks him and his hold gets tighter. your fingers are in his hair - your breath calm and unsuspecting. he could get used to this.

finally, after a hold that seems to lasts an eternity, your voice rings out and breaks the two of you apart.

“estás herido, mi amor? there’s blood on your suit…”

“no. i-it’s… not mine.” he’s both lying and telling the truth. it isn’t his blood, it’s that of the miguel left behind. but right now and forever, they’re the same.

“i’ll wash up. get some sleep, querida.” he takes your hand from his cheek and kisses your knuckles - relishing in your touch before letting you go off to bed.

“i’m sorry for making you wait so long for me.” he barely manages to whisper out and you give this gentle smile and coo, arms around his neck.

“you don’t have to apologize for saving people, miguel. it’s what you do and it’s why i love you.”

for being a man so much bigger than you, he seems small and soft. he melts at the proclamation and puts his forehead to yours, desperate to hear it all again.

“dime de nuevo.” tell me again. he needs to hear it again - that he’s loved. that he’s celebrated by someone as kind as you.

all his anxiety melts when your soft lips slot against his once. “te amo, míguel.”

then twice. “te amo, spiderman.”

and then a third time. “i love every part of you. good and bad. the one who saves people, the one who looks out for others, the one with secrets, the one who fails sometimes and has to come home late because he’s doing what he thinks is right. sharp teeth, webs, scars and all, entiendes?”

and for the first time he kisses you - because this means you love him. every version of him including the one he is now.

“eres una bendición.” he murmurs, kissing the shell of your ear. you’re a blessing. because only a blessing could have given him the opportunity for something as amazing as a beautiful you and your daughter.

if only he could have found a way to make it last forever.

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x black reader #spiderverse spoilers #atvs #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #x latina reader #x latina!reader #x black!reader #spiderman x reader #fluff

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lucvly · 6 months

Text

— boyfriend headcannons with matt. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: the usual !! sfw and nsfw parts. not proofread my bad.

a/n: i love reqs helppp 😣 working on another one which actually involves writing as we Speak !! i had to reupload this because i forgot tags SORRY anon 💔

— this man is obsessed with you. literally doesn’t even find any other women attractive. he has the biggest heart eyes for you it’s insane.

— adores hyping you up on instagram. he’s the type to reply “alr i saw it you can take it down now !!” when you post a story. your posts are filled with comments from him.

— he’s an absolute sucker for grand gestures. asked you to be his girlfriend by decorating your room with balloons !! goes all out on your anniversary (buys you a dress, gets you new jewelry, etc.)

— loves to color coordinate with you. whenever you two are going out or just seeing each other he calls you to match outfits. he thinks it’s the cutest (+ chris and nick tease him sooo bad for it)

— always gets you your go-to drinks. you’ll mention an iced latte once and he’s getting one for you every single day !! he’s so cute bye

— secretly loves it when you take pictures of him like a soccer mom LMAOO. he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. you love taking pictures of him doing literally anything: driving, doing laundry, etc.

— loves sleeping on call with you. he absolutely adores hearing you rant about your day. + sleeping on call together him while he’s on tour and misses you so badly !! half of the call is just him complaining about how much he wishes he could see your face and kiss you.

— he may whine about how you’re stealing all his clothes and hoodies but secretly loves watching you in them.

— him driving is sooo attractive. he’s such a gentleman ughhh. this man will get out of the car and open the door for you, leans over and buckles your seatbelt, + always has his hand on your thigh.

— always kissing you. forehead kisses, neck kisses, cheek kisses, etc.

— soo good at comforting and reassuring you. he’s such a sweetheart it’s sickening !!!

— your personal driver. it’s 3 am and you wanna go out? call him and he’ll be there in 5. you’re drunk at a party and need a ride? your boyfriend’s there.

— replies to your texts at lightning speed it’s sooo embarrassing but cute !!

— updates you on everything that happens throughout his day.

— nsfw below!

— anytime you kiss him it ends up in a heated ass make out session. your hands softly pulling on his hair, his hands gripping your waist as you ever so slightly grind on his hardening cock !! lollll !!

— he leans more towards the gentler side in bed. cute pet names, makes it All about you and your pleasure– (though he loves it when you give him head).

— howeverrrr, he can definitely get mean during sex. i’m talking manhandling, shoving your face into the pillow, dirty talk. (“too big— i can’t–,” “i don’t care, you can take it. i’ll make it fit.”)

— loves it when you overstimulate him. it’s his favorite thing ever. have fun watching him squirm, hearing him moan and whimper your name.

— begs you to sit on his lap. he adores it. stroking your hair, kissing your neck, his hands on your waist as he tries his hardest to not grind his hips up or simply just fuck you senseless.

— he’s vocal. whimpering out loud, begging, groaning, grunting. all of it.

— extremely good at aftercare. he’ll immediately clean you up, get a bottle of water for you, cuddle, talk, anything you want and he’s completely at your service.

— he’s such a secret pervert !!! cannot see you in a skirt because he’s already hard. showing a bit of cleavage? hard. sees you in a bathing suit? it is over for him. he needs you.

— cockwarming him while he’s gaming <333. he’s all for it. one time you two made a bet that consisted on making the other crack first. spoiler alert: you ended up with your moans being muffled by a pillow because you just couldn’t let him finish his game, could you?

#lucvly #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo imagine #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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nonexistent-introvert · 10 months

Text

Alternate Reminder

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Content: Miguel has trouble trying to treat you fairly when you remind him too much of what he had lost. Angst, misunderstanding.

A/N: I havent truly proofread this so I'm sorry. This took super long.

Part 2

Miguel thought you were special. He thought it was maybe the universe giving him a second chance when he saw you. His first love and his beautiful wife, standing in front of him while wearing a Spiderman suit. Maybe, he was destined to be with you, after all, a universe where you could understand him. A universe where he could finally be happy with you and Gabriella, a universe that he actually belonged to and he didn’t have to worry about destroying a whole universe just to be with you.

The only problem? This version of you had zero ideas of who Miguel O’Hara is. Miguel thought it was a canon event, for the both of you to fall in love. In most universes he had been to, you were with Miguel. In most, you were happy and had a family with him. In the more unfortunate universes, things didn’t work out between the two of you. The only thing that was unchanged was that Miguel and you were bound to find and fall in love with each other at one point.

However, Miguel hated your guts. His amor was sweet, responsible, and well-organized. You were the complete opposite of that. You were rude, irresponsible, and very messy as a person. He dared say that you were the messiest person he had ever met. There was no sign of organisation at your workstation. Papers were messily stacked on top of each other or swept across the desk. The mini shelf you had beside your desk was filled with books that were all falling to one side, some had completely collapsed. More files were squeezed on top of the books. Miguel’s greatest pet peeve was seeing the bent and folded pages being shoved into a file. The urge to help you reorganize was almost too big for him to handle causing the frustration to build up and was let out onto you instead. Miguel groaned as he met eye contact with you while he was buying his morning coffee. It was almost insulting to him how you had the same exact face as her, the woman he falls for in every universe.

On the opposite side of the same coin, you loathed Miguel O’Hara. He was bossy, pompous, and couldn’t take a single joke. Any conversation you have had with him ended up in the both of you arguing. Sarcasm was something everyone around you had gotten used to, except for Miguel of course who never seemed to catch on. He would simply give you a judgemental stare before giving a literal answer which you would roll your eyes at. At that point, Miguel would think that you’re being rude, and depending on his mood that day, he would either scold you or scoff at you.

“Just get over it, you’re always mad at Miguel anyways. I thought you would get used to it by now.” Gwen sighed, giving you the same response every time you ranted about Miguel. “It’s not like you don’t know the big guy,” Hobie said nonchalantly, having long gotten used to your rants about Miguel. “You hate him, we get it.” Pavitr groaned, complaining for the umpteenth time about how you always seemed to be talking about Miguel. Gwen chuckled, “If you didn’t point out every single flaw of his so heartlessly every time you rant about him, I would think you have a crush on Miguel or something.” Gwen said. “Hell no. I’m not fucking blind.” you defended, offended she would even think this way. “You gotta admit, big boss is quite the looker, too bad he’s a prick.” Hobie pointed out. “Speak of the devil,” Pavitr warned, straightening up as he stared at Miguel who was walking to your table’s direction.

You merely glared in his direction. Gwen was right, you should be used to him by now. He shouldn’t be getting under your skin so easily. So why can’t you just ignore him? Why does your mind always drift to him when you’re alone, why do you realise when he was due for a haircut? How his hair curls at the end when he lets his hair grow, how he reaches 10 minutes early to any appointment, and how he would get his coffee at exactly 9am in the morning. You shook your head, riding yourself off those thoughts. There was no way you actually had some sort of attraction to him right? Your mind drifted to the fight you had with him 5 days ago, his words still causing a dull ache in your heart. The both of you always fought but you were sure Miguel was going to kick you off the team until he called your friends the next day and gave you a mission through them while also completely disregarding your presence if he saw you around after.

===================

“Mind your own business!” Miguel exclaimed, you flinched at his harsh tone. “I was just-” “Who said you could touch my property?” Anger was practically the only emotion in his voice as he pushed you to the side. “Lyla told me you were having some troubles, that your screens had some kind of issue-” You gritted out, closing your eyes to calm yourself too. You only had good intentions to fix the issues he was fixing and now you were being accused of invading his privacy. You couldn't even remember any of the files that appeared on the screen while you were fixing his terrible code. Too focused on solving the technical errors to be poking your nose into his business. “I don’t need your help,” He seethed. “She was going to help you, Miguel. You have been complaining about it and even I can’t help you, you very well know she’s the only one equipped with the knowledge to fix this.” Lyla defended you. The fury in Miguel’s eyes scared you as well, “You need to mind your own business as well.” He snarled to Lyla before turning to you, switching off the orange screens completely. “I would rather let everything burn to hell than trust you to fix anything. You’re a fucking mess if you didn’t realize. ” Miguel spat.

It was your last straw. You had more self-respect than let anyone speak to you like that. “Kick me off, fucking kick me off already. You hate me anyways, right? So why do you bother keeping me around?”

“Get out!” Miguel bellowed and you didn’t need him to repeat himself. You took off the watch on your wrist and threw it to the floor, letting it break into pieces. In that moment, his words hurt you more than glitching ever would.

============

Peter found you at a bar in your universe that day. You downed another glass of whiskey at the sight of Peter, you were in too bad of a mood to talk to anyone now and you know you would regret it if you lashed out at him.

Peter didn’t say anything, simply sitting beside you and staring as you downed one glass after another.

Peter ordered a drink, taking sips of his drink as he decided on the best approach to talk to you. Your anger was practically radiating off you, making everyone else stir clear of you.

“He’s all bark no bite.” Peter started. You scoffed lightly, letting the silence fall between the both of you. You turned to peter, feeling bad for putting him in an uncomfortable situation. “You heard already huh.” Peter simply shrugged, “Word travels fast. Practically the whole society knows.” You downed another glass at that, you wondered how much the story had changed as it was passed from one person to another. It was probably a field day at headquarters.

“There is barely anyone at headquarters, Miguel has been bringing hell to anyone he even makes eye contact with,” Peter answered as though he could read your thoughts. You had to bite back your words, to tell Peter that you really couldn’t care less about Miguel now nor did you need the company. Silence fell between the both of you, Peter lightly bobs his head to the music that was playing in the bar to relieve the tension that was building up. He was never one for tense situations. “You know, you’re not really that different from Miguel.” Peter immediately put his hands up in defense when you practically growled at his comment. “Well, it’s just that both of you would rather die than talk about your emotions. Thankfully, I managed to crack Miguel so I think I can do it for you too.” Peter confidently stated. You remained silent, swirling the whiskey in your hand. You didn’t trust yourself to not lash out at Peter, especially when he’s practically comparing you to Miguel. The man you hated in all of the multiverse

“Hm, silence. Miguel screamed at me when we reached this point.” Peter observed, laughing nervously at the memory of his talk with Miguel. “I guess I’ll just go on first then.” Peter wrung his hands nervously. “I’m sure Miguel didn’t mean anything. You just hit a sore spot.” You scoffed again, “What? By trying to fix his stupid system?”

Peter took another swig, he definitely needed the alcohol. “Do you not know about what is on those screens? One that probably popped up while you were fixing it.” “Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t snooping on him. I was focused on the system itself.” You defended. Peter cringed ever so slightly at your response. “There is this girl on the screen, the one with a happier, better-looking Miguel.” Peter took another swig, this really wasn’t his story to tell. You pursed your lips, you did remember seeing the footage that Peter mentioned. You had to force yourself to look away, that you were invading his privacy.

“That’s his daughter.” Peter finished, trying to gauge your reaction. You simply preserved a blank look and Peter groaned slightly, he detested how stubborn you were. “Miguel found a universe where he had a family and was happy, but him in that universe had an accident so he replaced himself. Some butterfly effect happened and the whole universe collapsed on itself and he lost everything.” Peter explained. You finished your drink, everyone has lost someone. You understood why it was a sore spot but it doesn’t justify being a total asshole.

“Miguel didn’t mean anything he said to you. It was just- tough.” Peter finished. “I didn’t even do shit Peter, just decided to fix his system and he accused me of invading his fucking privacy. It’s not like he’s the only one who lost someone. We all did.” Peter shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. “He just fucking hates my guts and I don’t know why? He literally told most people about my past when he explains about anomalies so why is he so mad when I know about it?”

“Because you have the same name and face as his wife, the woman who he falls for in every universe.” Your jaw dropped at the information. You couldn’t ever fathom the thought of you and Miguel even being in love. The anger in you simmered ever so slightly. It would explain how his features softened when he sees you sometimes, the vulnerable look in his eyes when he stares at you for too long. A stranger with memories, that is what you are to Miguel. Miguel tries his best to treat you like others. It was exceptionally tough when you shared the same name and face as the woman he had spent his happiest moments with. “He never told me,” you told Peter. Peter shook his head, “No one was allowed to tell you. Not like many people knew anyways. He didn’t want to stir up any unnecessary trouble. You know how he is, he doesn’t like it when people try to share his burdens.” You pursed your lips, cursing out your alcohol tolerance. It was times like this you wished you could just forget everything. “It doesn’t matter. Miguel probably wants me out of his life.” Peter threw his hands up frustratedly. “If he wants you out he wouldn’t send me here to tell you about everything.” Peter admitted. Peter was worried when he heard the news of you and Miguel having a fight which is what brought him to talk to Miguel. Peter wouldn’t be able to find you by himself, only Miguel could. You closed your eyes, you had enough of everyone. You were so exhausted, everything has been so draining.

“Just leave me alone alright?” You said, stumbling out of your seat slightly before leaving the bar and Peter behind.

======================================

“The anomaly was caught. We ensured there were no loose ends. Everything should be fine.” You reported to Miguel. Your hands were behind your back, there was a blank look on your face. Miguel bit his lip slightly at your cold demeanor toward him. He used to complain about you taking things too lightly. When you would stroll into his office with a grin, confidently telling him all the details of the mission even if it was insignificant. Now, you told him the bare minimum with a professional tone and stand.

Miguel used to complain and bluntly tell you that he didn't care for some of the details you told him after. Details like you and Gwen dropped by a Mcdonald's to grab some fries or that you also managed to finish a recent show. Now he wishes you would tell him, instead of you acting like this., all quiet and serious. Miguel took a deep breath, staring at you as the platform descended. He looked away slightly, knowing things were still tense between the two of you. “Sorry about that the other day. I was not in the right place.” He apologised, forcing himself to meet your eye. Your expression was still blank, “It’s fine.” You brushed it off like you hadn’t been thinking about it ever since. “If that’s everything, I’ll take my leave now.” You told him, bowing slightly as you turned. Miguel flinched at the tone. “Wait.” He wanted to stop you from leaving. Then his head turned to the orange screens behind him that glitched every so often. “Would you-” Miguel hesitated, thinking if this was the best move.”

“I- can you help me fix the screens?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “I promise I won’t lash out at you.” Miguel weakly joked. You simply nodded, stepping up onto his platform. Miguel stared at you, you were so unlike yourself. There were no teasing comments, no laughter, not even a hint of a smile. You stood in front of his screens, diligently and skillfully opening and typing away a new code. Miguel shifted and fidgeted behind you, he was wrecking his mind for a conversation topic. You were the one who usually initiated or continued the conversations. His mind replaying all the conversations he had with you. A smile tugged on his lips, music was your common ground with him. He remembered how your eyes twinkled when you talked about your favorite songs.

“I recently got into classical music.” Miguel shared. Miguel was half-convinced that he wouldn’t get a reply when you let his words hang in the air while you focused on the task at hand. “Oh? Mahler?’ You finally replied. His eyes widened. “How did you know?” He was greeted with silence again and only then did he appreciate how quick your responses used to be. “I just want to know, because you seemed really confident about it. Did I tell you?” Miguel filled the silence himself. “I just saw it.” You gestured to the screens. He nodded, letting the tense silence take over again. You were never so quiet, he never had to deal with this uncomfortable silence when he was with you.

“You changed.” Miguel blurted out. There was no response from you as you continued working on the screens. You didn’t know how to respond either. The news about you being an alternate version of his wife, it was rather overwhelming. You used to spite him and annoy him just for the fun of it, but after everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it anymore. His gaze made you self-conscious now, of what he thought of you, and nor did you want a repeat of what happened that day. You did a lot of thinking the past few days and you had to come to terms with the fact that you didn’t hate Miguel O’Hara. You couldn’t hate him. The thought of him hating you, it was terrifying.

“What?” You muttered, Miguel barely caught onto your response. He placed his hands on his hips, looking down. “Look, I’m really sorry for that day and I know I can’t take back anything but I really hope you don’t distance yourself from me because of that.” Miguel swallowed, it was publicly known that the both of you never seemed to get along but the thought of you becoming cold to him made him shiver to his core. “You’re overthinking things.” You stated plainly, forcing out a laugh. Miguel sighed, “You just seem, very different. Let’s not even talk about our interactions. You have just been more distant with everyone, you’re taking things way too seriously and well, you’re a lot more well organised now. The biggest shame was losing the constant smile, boosted many of their morale even in the most difficult of times.” you swallowed bitterly, debating internally if you should snap at Miguel right now while you stared at the screens before you. “I had to work on not being a mess right?” You answered, quoting his exact words. Miguel’s eyes flashed with a hint of pain and you knew it was a low blow. He had already apologised, you’re the one who keeps bringing it up. But those words haunted you even till now.

“You really changed huh?” Miguel continued. He didn’t expect you to use his words against him. When you know that he regrets it, it was a low move even for you. “It’s done.” You announced, ignoring his comment towards you. Your patience was thinning again. He merely glanced towards the screens before looking at you again. “You’re not the person I knew,” Miguel stated plainly. You turned your head to him.

“I’m not the woman you had in mind, Miguel! I’m not your fucking wife and I’m sorry you had to go through that.” You looked away, running your hands through your hair in distress. “I never was. I’m sorry I remind you of her but I’m not her.” You snapped at him. Walking out of his office. Everything made sense now. Miguel would be annoyed and frustrated with you most times, but there were times that he acted differently towards you. The times when he had carried you to a more comfortable place when you had fallen asleep on your table, the jackets that he had given to you to keep you warm still hung in your closet. The late-night conversations where he was more vulnerable towards you and had conversations with you about your interests while you hung from the ceiling, claiming that it helped you stay awake while you sift through the paperwork with him. You found it weird how he could hate your guts one second but be even sweet to you when it was just the two of you. At one point, you even thought you had fallen for Miguel O’Hara.

You shook your head, ignoring Miguel behind you as you rid the thought of even entertaining a possibility with Miguel. He never treated you as you are, he never liked you for who you are.

You simply shared a face and name with the woman he was destined to fall for.

You chuckle at how foolish you were while you stepped on the watch that Peter had given to you as replacement for your old one.

“I fucking quit.” You announced to a surveillance camera in the hallway, knowing fully well that he is monitoring the camera for your whereabouts now.

Miguel angrily swept the files off his table, growling out in frustration. He buried his face in his hands, he never saw you as the woman who he had fallen for and had Gabriella with. Sure, there were a few times your identical looks made his heart pace with what could have been. However, Miguel had started spending more time with you and getting to know you as a person. In those times, he reckoned he enjoyed it too much.

There was no way he was falling for you right?

Was there a point even if he did? You had already left him.

Miguel O'Hara always messes up his own happiness. That seems more like his canon event than falling in love with you.

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