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xmalereader · 10 months

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Miguel O’Hara X Black Cat! Male Reader || 2 ||

|| Masterlist ||

Authors note: You all tempted me to make a second part…this one isn’t really a continuation but a small mini snippet of reader and Miles little dynamic again because you all enjoyed it! Again, Spanish words are mentioned, fluent and Latino myself. Also thank you for 6.8K followers!!

Summary: Reader is Black Cat in Miguel’s universe who is married to the leader of the spider society and who’s also taken a liking towards Miles who has invited him to his families party.

Warnings: Slight ATSV spoilers, fluff, angst, slight language, Spanish words ( fluent ), past experiences, dancing, parties, Miguel and reader have a moment, sarcasm, mentions of sex, second chances, found family.

Word count: 2.6k

- || Part One || Part Three ||

“You want him to what?”

Miguel stared down at the fifteen year old, hands on his hips with a confused look on his face while also raising a brow. Clearly he didn’t understand the teens question nor did he want too.

“I want to invite Y/n to my fathers celebration of him becoming captain.” Repeated Miles with a faint and nervous smile on his face. After spending his time in the spider society he’s gotten adjusted to the routine in HQ and knew the rules that he wasn’t suppose to break and one was not to mess with Miguel or do anything to upset the man. Miles didn’t want to upset Miguel, but had no choice in asking for the mans permission in allowing Y/n to come over to his families party.

Due to Y/n being a thief and Miguels ex-ish husband he’s been under house arrest in HQ, meaning that he wasn’t allowed to leave HQ without Miguel’s permission even though the man had escaped many times and had been chased down by Miguel. The two chasing each other through different universe to the point where Miguel was tempted to chain the cat down due to constant escaping.

“You know he can’t leave.”

“Come on, Mig!” Y/n voice echos through the lab, getting both of their attention as he jumps down from the ceiling, emerging from the shadows as he wore his suit and lands a cat next to Miles before standing up straight and smirking at Miguel. “It’s just a party, I’ll behave.” He purrs out in a teasing matter, knowing how much his husband hated it but also loved it at the same time.

Miguel glared at him, baring his fangs as he opens his mouth to protest only for Y/n to beat him to it. “Why don’t you come too? You can keep an eye on me?” He suggests, getting Miguel to close his mouth as the other man thinks.

Y/n raises his brows in surprise, not believing that the man would actually think about the idea as he glanced down at Miles who shrugs in return. It only took Miguel a few minutes before he’s agreeing to the idea. “Very well.”

“Yes!” Miles fist bumps the air as he jumps in excitement, turning to Y/n with a large smile on his face. “My parents are going to love you!”

“Don’t you think they will find it weird or suspicious that their fifteen year old son is hanging around someone nearing their thirties who is also a thief?” Y/n questions, a bit worried on how Miles parents would think about him being around their son, clearing not knowing that he was Spider-Man who was being trained under the cities number one thief who Miguel despised.

“Nah, they’ll like you. Just work your charm on them.” Said Miles, getting the black cat to grin at his words. “I’ll be charming for sure.”

Miguel groans at his words, rolling his eyes. “Before you two go, I need you to do a mission for me as pay back for forcing me to go with you.”

“Technically you weren’t invited.” Miles mumbled under his breath, but loud enough for both adults to hear.

“What did you say?” Miguel sharply turns to Miles while Y/n holds back a laugh, covering his mouth and looking away as Miles quickly says ‘nothing’.

Y/n swallows down his laughter and clears his throat while winking at the kid and bumping his shoulder in a humorous manner before the two focused back on Miguel. “You two should never be in the same room together.” Said Miguel earning himself an eye roll from Y/n as he placed his hand no his hip. “Yeah, well you can’t get rid of my kid. I found him and he’s mine now.”

“You can’t just claim some kid.”

“Well I just did!”

The two adults began to argue, again. The usual routine for many spiders.

Whenever Y/n and Miguel were together they always found a way to break into an argument, fighting like a married couple and growing heated with each other. Clearly everyone in the room can feel the sexual tension between the two that a couple of traumatized spiders may or may not have walked in on the two before, causing them to avoid Miguel at all times. Too embarrassed to face the man who was balls deep into his husband.

The two have tried to be careful more often, but sometimes when their letting out their frustrations on each other it tends to be on the most random time of the day and random place.

Miles can only watch the two, going back and forth at the two before checking his own watch to see the time. “Oh no! I forgot about the cakes—gotta go! See you tonight!” Miles quickly shouts out as he ran out of the lab, leaving both Miguel and Y/n on their own as the two watch Miles run out of the lab.

“Well, I guess my house arrest is lifted.” Y/n uses his pointer finger to tap Miguel on the check in a mocking matter before taking steps backwards and making his way towards the exit. “See you tonight!”

“The mission—!”

“Find someone else, sweetheart!” Y/n laughs out as he uses his own watch to open a portal into Miles universe, jumping through and appearing back in his penthouse that he was able to purchase with the things he stole, humming to himself happily as the portal closed behind him, finally giving him the privacy to remove his suit and get himself prepared for Miles family party. He wasn’t one to socialized, but for Miles he would do anything for that kid.

After the discovery of Miguel and Y/n’s relationship and that fact that he was a variant of a familiar thief to many spidermen, he wasn’t too surprised when they would all give him cautious stares. Later finding out that many of the black cats that they’ve met had either betrayed or used their Spider-Man in order to get what they wanted. It surprised everyone when they found out that he was far more different than they thought.

Very little knew about his and Miguels relationship; they worked in their universe and loved each other. Still do.

Many of the black cats became a thief or who they are now due to a poor life or wanting to help a family figure while Y/n became who he was due to the death of Miguels daughter, needing to find an escape from the grief and found relief in stealing.

He was still loyal to Miguel, not once did he bat an eye for another man or women always wearing his wedding ring underneath the gloves he wore. Both Miguel and Y/n can argue all they want and claim that they can’t stand each others presences but the universe always brought them back together, it was their canon.

While Y/n got ready for the party he tried his best not to overdress, wearing something less formal and more casual and also making sure that he always came with something not wanting to show any bad manners as he took the extra time to bake some cookies for the party and smiled proudly at his own work once he was done and ready.

He didn’t need Miles address, clearly already knowing where the kid lived as he made his way through the streets of New York and towards Miles apartment building where he can hear the loud music playing and the sound of laughter above him, making him tilt his head back a bit to see some lights hanging on the side of the building.

“Going in?”

He’s startled by Miguels voice, turning around to come face to face with his husband. “Wha—whoa…” Y/n’s eyes slowly widen, his pupils dilating when the land on him, taking in his casual wear that he hasn’t seen in a while always seeing him in his spider suit and working.

“You look—“

Miguel raised a brow while grinning slowly.

“Good.” Y/n finishes, clearing his throat and trying to mask the blush rising to his cheeks and focused back on why they were here. “We should head in before Miles starts calling me to hurry up.” He held the tray of cookies in his hands and ignores Miguel's chuckle as the two walk inside the apartment building and making their way up the stairs. Now, Y/n was a known thief and skilled fighter and could take down a group of men on his own and yet somehow, he couldn’t face a simple party full of nice people and possibly gossip.

“Estas nervioso?”

Y/n swallows, looking over his shoulder to see Miguel staring at him with the softest look one that he knew too well. “Focus on your breathing and only think about how fast this will go by.” Miguel whispers near his ear, leaning forward while the other sighs deeply, giving himself a small reassured nod before the two step through the door and onto the crowded rooftop where they are greeted with music, laughter, and couples dancing.

“You made it!”

Y/n looks up ahead to see Miles pushing through the crowd as he waves his hands in the air with excitement, stumbling in his step and nearly tripping over himself and Y/n is quick to catch the kid, extending an arm out and catching him. “Whoa, easy kid. I get that your excited, we technically see each other every day.”

“I know, but we’re usually doing hero stuff. This is different.” Miles was smiling widely, eyes full of enthusiasm which doesn’t go unnoticed by the black cat himself. “Guess you’re right about that.”

“I still have to keep an eye on you.”

Miguels voice startles the two, clearly forgetting about his quiet presence. “Geez, maybe you should wear a bell you are quieter than me.” States Y/n, still not used to the fact of Miguel being quieter than him.

“You should wear that bell, not me.” Miguel shot back as Y/n sticks his tongue out at him in a childish manner.

“Miles!”

The three turn towards the direction of the voice only to see Miles mother approaching her son with a faint smile. “Mijo, did you invite these two?” She asks with a kind smile on her face, hand on her sons shoulder.

Miles suddenly grows bashful as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Mom this is Y/n, who I told you about and his Husband Miguel.” He introduces, catching his mother by surprise. “Oh! You’re Y/n—Miles talks fondly of you, I didn’t expect you to be so…” She can’t form the words but Y/n expected this reaction.

“Older? I know, I’ve told Miles that you would be worried to know that his son is hanging around someone twice his age but no worries I treat him like family and make sure that he isn’t causing any trouble for his parents.”

Miles Mother chuckled. “Thank you for keeping an eye on him, you can call me Rio.”

“Likewise.” He holds the plate of cookies out to her with a smile. “I didn’t want to come empty handed its bad manners.”

“Wow, how nice of you. Please help yourselves with anything.”

Y/n nods at her words and turns back to Miles when she walks away to place the cookies with the rest of the food. “See? Not so bad.”

“Wait until you meet my dad.”

Miguel suddenly speaks up. “Why do I feel weird not being acknowledged?”

“Because, women know everything. One look is all it takes and they know everything, its scary. She probably immediately knew about your true intentions with me.” He points an accusing finger at him as Miguel scoffs. “We’re married.”

“Technically divorced.”

“I see no divorce papers.” He crossed his arms over his chest, smirking at Y/n who glared up at him. “I’ll fuck you up.” He threatens which Miguel only finds adorable.

It didn’t take long for them to meet Miles father who was kind but also protective of his son, interrogating him a bit until Y/n works his charm and provides the new chief a gift, congratulating him on his new position and wishing him luck. His sudden flattery gets the teens father all flustered and speechless as he accepts the gift and him. Gaining the trust of both parents and getting the chance to know them further.

The party went on longer than any usual party, everyone was happily chatting away with their own family and friends while others danced to the music. The amount of excitement gets to Y/n, dragging Miguel onto the dance floor as the two danced away to Merengue music. It took Y/n some time to adjust to the fast pace while Miguel got it on the spot, making Y/n jealous by how fast he adapts to the music and dancing.

Miguel takes him by the waist and pulls him in close, the two panting heavily from the dancing as Y/n laughs. “Curse you and your Mexican genes.” Miguel chuckled. “Not my fault I dance better than you.” The two laugh, breathless from their dancing before moving away from the dance floor and much more private area where the music wasn’t too loud, finding their way on the edge of the roof top, sitting next to each other as they looked at the view ahead of them.

“I missed this.” Y/n voice is soft and genuine, eyes still focused on the city as Miguel glanced at him, licking his lips. “Parties?”

Y/n chuckles. “No, us.”

This causes a small faint smile to appear on Miguels lips as Y/n kept talking. “I missed feeling like this, so free and happy…I know we had our difficulties in the past and we lost so much.” He turns to face Miguel. “I don’t want to argue anymore or let the past catch up to us. I know—you miss her. I do too, believe me the amount of times I couldn’t stop thinking about her whenever I see things that remind me of her, but I know that she would want me to move on to start over again and I did.” He nods over his shoulder towards the group of people who were full of happiness and smiling faces, towards Miles who had his face buried in his hands as his parents speak about his embarrassing moments, getting the kid flustered.

Y/n sighs contently, turning back to face Miguel who was staring at the crowd before him, taking in his husbands words as he sighs with a small nod. “You make it look so easy.”

“But its not.” Y/n says. “It never will.”

Miguel lets out a dry chuckle his finger fidgeting nervously with his wedding ring. He’s suffered the most with the lose of his daughter. When he first introduced his daughter to Y/n when they were first dating, he was nervous at first only for Y/n to quickly fall in love with her, taking care of her as a parent and being there when Miguel couldn’t, deepening their relationship even more. Miguel had the family he always wanted only for him to lose it in a matter of seconds after his daughters death, pushing Y/n away and creating useless arguments with each other not knowing that he was pushing away the only person he ever had left.

Now, here he sat. Being given a second chance to start over.

“I’m willing to try.” Miguel whispers, getting Y/n’s attention who smiled at is husband, reaching out to take his hand into his own. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you on the way.”

#male reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x male reader #black cat reader #black cat marvel #spider man across the spider verse #black cat series #BlackCat tag

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ratsandclocks · 1 year

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Sharing (part 1)

(Male Reader/Rodolfo Parra/Valeria Garza/Alejandro Vargas/Phillip Graves)

📝3,508 words(oops) | 18+ | Smut

Alejandro and Graves cannot seem to get along when it comes to having you. Valeria and Rudy hate seeing you upset. They stir up a plan where everyone is happy at the end of the night.

Tags: polyamorous, F/M/M/M/M, Sub/Dom dynamics, pillow prince reader, punishment, restraints, forced proximity, voyeurism, oral(m & f receiving), anal fingering, self imposed edging, overstimulation, subspace(?), no use of y/n, use of petnames; Babe, Baby, Babyboy, Cielito, Cariño, Corazoncito

Dom Valeria, Dom Rudy, Switch Alejandro, Switch Graves, Sub Male Reader.

Note: This took a bit longer to write since you can see, the fic itself got longer than I first anticipated. I tried my best to give everyone some attention but its hard when there's five fucking people. Might finish tomorrow or the day after depending how busy I get but I'll try to update as soon as I can. Anyways this has gotten out of hand... and into the other cuz im jerking off—

Disclaimer: Author does not speak Spanish(fluently) and only used Google for minimum research. If any of the Spanish words used seem off, grammatically incorrect, and/or inappropriate, please inform me and I'll try to fix them.

A petty argument. One that's been going on for about a week between Alejandro and Graves. That's what got you all in this position.

You don't even remember what it was they were fighting about—could be that food you left on the fridge for them that they decidedly did not want to share with each other, could be Philip's now-empty bottle of aftershave that you like the smell of so much, could be that time you wore his shirt to sleep instead of Alejandro's—who cares what the fight was, all you know is that there's heat between them when it comes to you and you did not like that…

Now Rudy didn't like seeing you in distress, neither did Valeria. So naturally, they'd do something about that. And sure enough, they did.

"You're fucking with me." Graves says, as a matter of factly as he watched Rudy handcuff his right hand with Alejandro's left to his pure dismay. Their other hands weren't free either, as they were as tightly tied to their respective sides of the sofa, leaving them immobilized and stuck close to each other. Looking at them together feels like watching two dogs wary of each other, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation—you were simply glad that they cannot do anything about it, but you do pity their place. Their seat was facing the bed, right where you sat with Valeria comfortably kneeling beside you, the two of you not wearing more than your shirt and underwear.

"I'm not." Rudy responded firmly, arms crossed as he glared at the two. "You don't get to touch mi Cielito or yourselves. Not until you start getting along."

"Rudy…" you plead in their defense, but the man only looked at you softly, denied you with a shake of his head, then walked closer towards the bed.

"Don't feel too bad about them now, Cariño." Valeria cooed to you, absently stroking your hair. Her eyes were on the two tied up men while she spoke, directing her words to them just as much. "They weren't being nice, were they?"

"I'm not being nice?" Alejandro finally spoke, pointing his left hand to himself accusingly, only for Graves to pull away the same handcuffed arm. "Look at him!" Alejandro defended himself.

"You've upset our boy, Gilipollas." Rudy lectured, eyes still on yours. You would've said something—another plea or something along the lines of 'you don't have to do this' or 'it's not a big deal'—but Rudy was sitting with you now, hands on your chin to face him and stare at his longing eyes, and that look effectively shut you up. "He deserves way better from you both."

You gasped in surprise when Valeria gripped your hair to pull your head back, her lips suddenly latched onto your neck, already finding the sensitive spot just under your ear. "That he does."

Hands were all over you in a matter of seconds. Valeria's were groping and undressing you, not rushing but surely more forceful than Rudy's. He was way gentler compared to her, softly caressing every inch of your skin she exposes as he kissed your mouth, slowly but just as passionately as Valeria's. All of it familiar, all of it just right.

Heat rushes up your skin. It was already making you lightheaded, their contrast nearly giving you whiplash, but you love seeing their differences, making up for what each other lacked. How they mix so well just to please you, all of them and more just for you—something you wish Alejandro and Phillip could do together.

"You were the one who stole my shit." You heard Graves grumbling. When you looked at him, your eyes met and caught him in a scowl, but his frustrations were clearly directed towards the man beside him.

"It's a shared bathroom, Pendejo." Alejandro quipped, to which he earned a tug on the cuffs from the other man. He tugged back and now they look like little brats fighting over a piece of candy. You couldn't help but frown at the sight, which Rudy quite immediately notices.

"Ey!" He yelled at them and the two men froze in an instant. "You keep fighting like that and you won't get to touch him at all."

"It's not fair, Rudy." Alejandro whined, easily switching from hostility to something more submissive, something he does that usually riles up Rudy. Not tonight though.

"And you're not being fair to him either. Just look—" at that, Alejandro finally looked at you. Your brows furrowed and eyes slightly teary, and clearly not for the reason of being in the debauched position Valeria's hands put you in. Oh how that just breaks his heart, seeing his poor corazoncito longing for him, so close yet so far. How hurt you must be from all his stubbornness.

"You think he wants you two away? That he doesn't want you here with him right now? Think he doesn't want to feel you inside him? You two are the ones depriving our lover of yourselves. Think about that."

"Do you want them, Cariño?" Valeria lewdly whispered to your ears, but loud enough that the other men could hear it. You only nodded, unable to form words while she trails her hands into your boxers, rubbing and stroking you under the garment. "Want their cocks inside of you? Touch every inch of your skin? Fuck you 'til you can't walk like you deserve it?"

"Mhm…" you moaned when her hand gripped your cock, your hips involuntary fucking into her hand.

"Then they gotta be good, right? Else they don't deserve you. Bad boys don't get to touch my sweet sweet boy."

She's pulled you out now and your cock was on full display for them all, hard and dripping as she stroked it. Rudy took off your boxers, throwing it haphazardly somewhere in the room to be picked up later in the next morning. When Valeria let go of you, Rudy took over quickly, teasing his thumb on your slit and you arched your back, promptly falling onto the bed with a whine. You were panting when he let the teasing off, but he didn't stop stroking you in slow firm tugs. Valeria chuckled fondly at the sight as she's taking off her panties, giving you and the rest of the men a show.

"Look at him, Rudy," she says, seductively crawling back towards you, "so sweet and sensitive. Such a shame they won't get a taste."

"Val…" you whined, reaching for her. She's cradling your face now, making you look straight into her eyes.

"You need something, Cariño?" It was almost condescending how she said it, but god if it weren't making you desperately buck into Rudy's hand you would've complained.

"Need you… up here—" she kissed you then—mouth on yours, full of hunger, moans and grunts, teeth and tongue, completely overpowering you—before pulling away and crawling farther. She moved to hover just above your head, legs on either side as she reposition herself with her cunt just above your face. Another whine escaped you when her hands went back to your hair, pressing you into the bed.

"Show me then," she ordered, "show me how much you need me. Show them what they're missing out on."

Your hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her down and ravaging her like she's the last meal of your life. You lap your tongue at her, burying your face deeper and pushing in your tongue farther. Nose nuzzling to her clit so perfectly that she twitches above you. She was clearly amused, letting out an exaggerated moan to egg on the tied up men.

"So good for me, Cariño. There, there, just like that—dios mio, that tongue! So good. Keep going, baby. They don't deserve you like this."

"Fuck's sake." Graves grunted. Valeria knows just how much he loves your mouth, because you know how to use it. He loves it when you kiss him and try to win him over, giving a good fight only to let him take charge in the end. He loves when you nip and bite on his skin, not too hard to hurt but just soft enough to make him feel like heaven. He loves when you suck on his cock desperately like it's your life on the line, loves how you use that tongue oh so sweetly around him. He loves everything about that mouth of yours, and now Valeria's using it against him.

You thrust your hips when you felt Rudy's tongue circling on your tip. He lifted one of your legs up with his free hand, squeezing lube on your balls to drip onto your ass, and proceeding to tease a finger into your hole. It wasn't much trouble prepping you—with how much you get fucked all the time, surely it won't be—but he still takes his time with it, pushing in slowly, always in search of something, making sure you feel good all throughout. He fucked you earnestly with those fingers, twitching when he found that spot that melts your bones and he instantly stopped with his movements, only to start profusely rubbing that spot and make you whine shamelessly.

And you heard Alejandro let out a strangled groan, now fully aware of Rudy's intentions to tease him.

"So cruel, mi rey." He groaned at the sight, he can see so clearly when Rudy's putting you on display like that. He always loved your ass—loved the involuntary movements you make and sounds you let out when it was him playing with you, making you feel good, when you squeeze around his cock plunged deep into you. God, does he wish it was him in Rudy's place, and Rudy knows that really well, so he's making it a show. Rudy pulled his mouth away.

"Keep watching." Rudy spoke before shoving your cock straight down his throat without a warning.

You moaned into Valeria's cunt, sending shivers down her spine and she chuckled. Now fully sat on your face, she grinds her hips on you, vigorously chasing her high until she stiffens above you, letting out a long moan and sigh in relief as she came on your face. She gave a few more thrusts into your tongue before getting off to the side, lifting you to lay your body between her thighs.

"Would you look at that, Babe." She addressed Graves who is now looking at you with a certain thirst in his gaze. Your face glistening in Val's wetness, eyes closed and brows furrowed in pleasure as Rudy kept bobbing his head, working you up. Valeria's hands traveled to your chest, pinching your nipples and making your back arch. "You wanna come, cariño?" She asked and Rudy sucked on the tip of your cock his fingers fucking into you faster to get you off quicker. But you mewled in response, head shaking as you held tightly on her arms and he immediately slowed his movements down.

"No?" Rudy asks, a heated look on his face. "What do you want then? Wanna get fucked in the ass, mi Cielito? Need a cock to come on to?"

You didn't need to say anything more, you nodded and Rudy carefully let you go. Your chest was heaving and you felt weak, too deep into the headspace Valeria had put you in and the pleasure you were just swimming in. You couldn't move on your own and so the two of them worked together to reposition you.

Now you're facing the men on their seats, your chest pressing on the bed with your ass up in the air. The men in front of you were looking at you with a certain darkness in their eyes, they seem painfully hard under their tight pants, their chests rising visibly with their heavy breathing. Graves couldn't stay still in his seat, constantly moving as if it'll do anything to ease the tightness in his pants—it doesn't.

"Phillip…" you whined, eyes staring at him with haze, god you were so pretty. The man could only groan in response.

"You alright, Baby?" Graves asked, because as much as he wants to take care of you, it's all he could do.

Rudy's hand was on you again, splayed out on the bottom of your spine while the other held his cock, teasing your hole just before slowly prodding in. He was big, you knew that—you're used to it, in fact—but it never fails to make you keen, feeling the stretch no matter how much grueling prep he gives you. You bit your lip as you tried to relax, sighing when you finally felt him bottom out.

"You were asked a question, Cielito." Rudy reminded you, hand reaching to stroke your hair as if to help you ground yourself. You leaned into the touch as you moaned, letting out an affirmative 'Mhm' to answer.

"I'm good…" you sighed, plopping yourself back into the bed, your hands reached to clench the sheets and prepare yourself. You grind your ass to feel Rudy's cock and it's all he needed before he started fucking you.

It was slow and sensual, dragging his thick cock to the tip before slowly pushing in again. You could almost feel every vein on him, every time his head almost caught on that sweet spot inside you but just barely missed—you knew he's doing it on purpose.

"So pretty, isn't he?" You heard Valeria. You don't remember when but she's now behind Alejandro and Graves, caressing Phillip's face with one hand while exploring Alejandro's body with the other. Graves had his head leaning against her while the other man was tense in his seat, trying—failing—to feign control of his desires.

"See what you're fighting for? Getting fucked raw without you?" Valeria said to Phillip, lightly biting his ear to tease before turning to Alejandro neck. "All because you don't know how to share."

You screamed when Rudy suddenly slammed into you, slowly pulling out before slamming back in. Then he took pace, quickening without losing the strength in his thrusts. You were a moaning mess, broken noises leaving your mouth as air gets punched out of your lungs.

"Does it feel good?" Valeria asked and you barely registered that it was directed at you, all you could manage was a pathetic whimper as Rudy mercilessly pounded into you, "Words, Cariño."

"S'good… s-so—" you let out a yelp when Rudy finally hits that spot, deciding to keep abusing it and leaving you a thoughtless, sobbing, mewling mess under him—Under Valeria, and under all of their gazes. You were boneless on the bed, head in the clouds, you felt like you'd float through the ceiling any second, and you were thankful for the moment Rudy put his weight on your back, engulfing you with warmth as perched his hands on the side of your head.

Your gaze wandered through the room, processing anything was a struggle with your mind being full of haze, but you could see Graves struggling through his breathing and the bulge in his uncomfortably tight jeans. He bit his lips as your eyes met and you could only imagine the torture he was in right now. You were like a caged man observing a hungry shark in the ocean—you can see the urge it had to pounce, to destroy the barrier between you, and devour you til you're nothing but bones. But he can't have his way, can't even touch himself, can't give himself any relief. All he could do was simply watch you in your position, so enticing, so good for them all.

It was when he broke the connection between you that you noticed Alejandro had his hand on Graves' thighs, slowly rubbing up on him with a proud smirk on his face.

"The hell are you doing?" He asked Alejandro, a little wary, but just as much curious of the man's intentions.

"Can't touch ourselves, but they didn't say anything about touching each other. Might as well give the boy a little show." Alejandro said, his hand traveling farther into Graves' inner thigh. His breath hitched, swallowing a lump in his throat at the teasing touch. "Unless you'd rather you sit your ass there wishing you could get off by just watching."

"No." Graves said firmly without missing a beat—much to your surprise. He closed his eyes, rested his head back and let out a sigh, "Keep… keep going…"

That proud smirk on Alejandro's face got impossibly more smug and he did not hesitate to move his hand straight to Graves' bulge, pressing and rubbing on it with enough pressure to make the man keen and relax on his seat. Alejandro was quick to decide to unbutton Phillip's jeans, shoving his hand in and pulling his cock out. It was painfully red, dripping and desperate, and by God did you want it in your mouth right now.

You would've begged Rudy to let you suck off the man, but Alejandro is quicker than you could think. He was already leaning down—as uncomfortable the restraints make it—and licking the precum before it could drip down his shaft, then bobbing his head while his hand pumped the man's shaft. Phillip let out a sigh, finally opening his eyes to find Valeria beside him, looking down at him with amusement.

"What?" Graves panted, eyes heavy as he tried to read Valeria's look.

"Nothing," she feigned, leaning down closer to the man, then pulling his head back til his neck was exposed enough to the woman's desire, watching the man's throat bob as he swallowed, "you just look so cute getting along."

She kissed him with vigor, the other hand cradling his neck and their mouth fought for dominance with Valeria at an advantage. Her hand traveled to his chest, squeezing it once before traveling farther down his stomach, tracing every muscle until she reached Alejandro's head. She pulled him off and you can see his stubble glistening from his own spit, she quickly moved into kissing him now, freeing her other hand to reach for Graves' cock, covering Alejandro's bigger hand and pumping it together.

As much as you wanted to keep watching, you couldn't look anymore with how much Rudy was trying to keep your attention on his cock, it was a task to even keep your eyes open. Desperately needing to ground yourself, you reach for Rudy's hand, which he decided to interlock with yours. You gripped it like a lifeline, feeling that heat in your stomach starting to overfill and you were tightening around Rudy.

"Oh? You close, Cielito?" Rudy panted next to your ear, "Are you gonna come? Go ahead, you can do it. Come on my cock."

You didn't need to be told twice. Your cock twitched and soon enough, you came hard, face buried into the mattress muffling your otherwise loud moan, shuddering from the pleasure that shot through your spine.

Rudy fucked you through your orgasm, riding it out with you until the sensation starts edging into overwhelming pleasure. He was still pounding into you, quicker and harder, chasing his own end.

"So close, mi Cielito. Just a little more, I know you can take more. Take it."

Your legs are near to giving up, thighs shook from the exertion, but you stayed still, stayed good for him and let him use you all he wants. You were rewarded with a tight embrace, and the warm feeling of his cum painting your walls. He finally slowed down, hips stuttering as he slowly pulled out. Your legs finally gave out and you went limp on the soft mattress, Rudy followed with you to keep embracing you from behind, giving your back little pecks of kisses and nuzzling on your shoulder.

"Muy bien, mi Cielito. You did so good for me." You felt his warm breath on your neck as he kissed you just under your ear, caressing your hips and just showering you with all the love he could give. You'd love to stay like that for eternity, engulfed in his affection, you could never get used to it. Unfortunately, it had to end sooner than you wished. He pulled away, leaving your behind exposed to the cold air, but not for long as you felt strong arms flip you to lay on your back.

You find all of them above you, even Alejandro and Graves now free from their restraints on the seat.

"Still with us, Cariño?" Asked Valeria and you smiled, letting out a sigh that's more of a stuttered laugh. You couldn't help the heat crawling back up your skin seeing them all looking down at you, you swallowed a lump in your throat before answering.

"Never left." You spoke, part smugness, part teasing. They all smiled, fully understanding what you meant by those words alone—more.

"Good." Alejandro growls, and your stomach drops at the feral look he gives you, his smile widening, tongue going over his teeth like watching food served to him on a silver platter.

"Because two of us just learned how to share."

(To be continued…)

#call of duty #cod fanfic #cod x male reader #male reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #valeria garza #phillip graves #alejandro x reader #rodolfo x valeria #rodolfo x alejandro #rodolfo x reader #graves x male reader #valeria x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #i made the gif myself and i hate it #my writing

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httpskuzuu · 10 months

Text

Feel better

Yandere!Fyodor x Male!Reader

I am spanish and I have no idea of english, possibly there are mistakes in the translation, google's fault :p

oc Fyodor¿ maybee

tw: kidnapping, yandere, explicit self-harm, blood, panic attack, stockholm syndrome, fyodor is a general tw

He huddled inside the empty tub and bit his lip nervously. He had made a complete mess, his arms and thighs were full of fresh cuts, blood trickling down them until it stained the white floor of the tub and his shirt. His hand shook with anticipation and he made another cut, and another, and another, and another, until there was no more room to cut, and still he kept cutting, cuts on top of cuts, those hurt a lot more, and he enjoyed it.

"What are you doing?"

He almost felt like he was running out of oxygen when he heard Fyodor's voice. He stopped his movements immediately, but didn't dare look at the man, didn't dare move anymore.

Instantly he regretted cutting himself when he knew Fyodor was in the house. He was so focused on the pain that he didn't even pay attention to the sound the Russian's footsteps made.

Fyodor kept a serene expression on his face, he didn't seem surprised by the scene, far from it. He walked over to the bathtub where the bleeding boy lay and took a good look at him. "You're self-injuring yourself." The Russian pointed out as he brought his fingers to his mouth. He seemed to be thinking. "Why?"

"I'm sorry." Whispered the young man. That was all he had been saying these days, sorry and please had become more than common words to him by now. He felt those words made him look small and vulnerable, which was just what he supposed Fyodor wanted from him.

"Answer me correctly." He stared at the boy in the tub, studying his demeanor.

Soon Fyodor sits on the edge of the tub, and I bring his hand to the boy's cold cheek. That makes the boy's whole body shudder violently and his breaths begin to come faster and faster. Fyodor's touch hurt, even though it wasn't even hurting him.

"I won't do it again, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

The boy almost immersed himself completely in his world, concentrating solely on the pain and avoiding the terrorist's threatening presence. His mind stayed inside the tub, curled up and deafening the outside, to the point where his own voice sounded distant, or at least he tried to, but Fyodor's touch kept him in the real world more than he would wish.

"Блин" Fyodor muttered under his own breath, but that was enough to make the boy in the tub shiver endlessly. "What's the matter, моя любовь?"

"I don't know…" He knew, he knew perfectly, to the point that every night he memorized a speech talking about everything that drove him to self-harm, but for some reason now those prepared words didn't want to come out, getting stuck in the back of his throat.

Helpless sobs escaped the boy's lips, burying his head between his shoulders. He didn't know how it was he felt now, embarrassed perhaps, dramatic no doubt.

"Look at me."

He didn't know if it was because the situation was getting the better of him or because of the stern tone implanted in Fyodor's voice, but his breaths started to become shallow, not really getting almost any air into his lungs. His head wasn't working well either, with too many thoughts at once and unable to be expressed. The boy shook his head quickly. "Please, please no, I can't."

Fyodor was quiet for a few moments, watching the young man's behavior carefully. Normally, he would have no problem with this situation, he would get the boy to talk in any way possible, but something didn't feel right.

"You don't look well, how can I help you?" The words sounded almost unearthly in the boy's ear, slow, careful and soft, it didn't sound like Fyodor did.

"Don't touch me." The boy's stomach did a complete flip, he was beginning to regret his chosen tone and words, too harsh and firm. Fyodor withdrew his hand, keeping it in his lap next to his other hand.

"… Tell me what to do."

"I don't know." Panic settled uncomfortably in his lungs, making it difficult for him to breathe and speak. The pain mixed with the panic made her head seem about to explode at any moment. "I don't know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Breathe, милый." Her gaze is riveted on the trembling young man. He was seeing how, for the first time, things were getting out of hand. He wasn't used to this, to taking care of someone, it felt really strange to him. "Talk to me." Fyodor's voice felt human, enough to convince the boy to listen to him.

"I'm scared, I'm really scared." The boy started to babble. He could try to make Fyodor understand, he could try, but because of his panicked state it was really difficult. "I'm sorry, forgive me, I'm sorry."

The boy finally moves minimally, raising his wounded arms to try to wipe away his tears, staining his cheeks a bit in the process.

"I won't do it again, please, I don't want you to hurt me."

He begins to feel a little more relief, a little more control in his breathing, no longer choking back tears as soon as he notices Fyodor's gaze, a pitying and dare I even say concerned one for him.

"Sorry for the mess." Fyodor laughs, a quiet, low chuckle, soft enough to try and relax the boy.

"It's all right. Come here." Fyodor offered his hand toward the young man. "Trust me for now, okay?"

The boy hesitated for a few moments until he accepted the Russian's hand. With Fyodor's help, he managed to get up without falling, his legs trembling and his cuts burning at his movements.

Fyodor directed him to his own room and made him sit on the bed. The boy sat down as comfortably as possible, but trying not to stain the sheets with his blood.

Fyodor disappeared for a few moments from the room, leaving the boy to think about what had happened. His body felt exhausted, but much more relaxed than before, he also felt ridiculous, without a compelling reason to have hurt himself, and on top of that ending up in panic in front of Fyodor, he felt foolish.

The terrorist returned with a first aid kit. The boy was in the same position Fyodor left him in, not having dared to move a muscle in his absence.

"This is going to hurt, but it needed you to hold still, understood?" The boy nodded his head.

Fyodor positioned himself in front of him and brought his gloved hands to his legs, spread them a little apart and lifted one of them slightly to begin healing it. The boy bit his lip and kept as still as possible so as not to disturb Fyodor. And so it went on for a while until he had all his cuts disinfected and carefully bandaged.

"Thank you, and I'm sorry, I've been very dramatic…"

"It's okay, малышка. You weren't dramatic." His voice is calm and gentle, and the bandaged boy feels loved. That Fyodor was suddenly treating him so well was not something he was used to.

Fyodor turned away from the boy and walked to the bedroom closet, from there he pulled out a black t-shirt and offered it to the young man. "Thank you." Mumbled the boy as he got rid of his blood stained shirt. He really didn't mind changing in front of Fyodor, he had done it a few more times. The shirt was slightly bigger than the boy, fitting him somewhat loosely.

"Why do you self-injure?" Fyodor's question was direct and came suddenly, his voice again more serious than before, and that inevitably startled the boy. The question just didn't feel right to him, something wasn't right there.

"I don't know, I-" His nails dug into his thigh, feeling pain made him keep his feet on the ground. He knew the reason, or at least he thought he did, but he couldn't get it out, being deeply stuck in his throat.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, малышка." Fyodor's hand went straight to the boy's, causing him to flinch noticeably and stop hurting himself. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"

The young man thought about it for a few seconds, a fuzzy idea in his mind. "Lie down with me… Please." He didn't mean that, he really didn't mean that, but it came out almost automatically.

Fyodor looked somewhat surprised by the request, but nodded his head. Carefully he lay down on the bed, next to the boy who mimicked his steps and took the opportunity to snuggle against Fyodor.

"Thank you, thank you" He dropped his head against Fyodor's chest, he almost felt no fear, almost. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and ran a hand down the boy's back. "Will you be here when I wake up?"

"Of course, darling."

#fyodor x reader #yandere fyodor #bsd fyodor #fyodor #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #bsd x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x y/n #bsd x you #male reader #fyodor x male reader #yandere bsd

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themoonitselff · 9 months

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miguel o'hara x latino male reader where miguel teaches him Spanish and sort of degrades him a little because he's not fluent >:3

por fin, he encontrado a otro latino que puede escribir esto por mí 😭 estoy de EEUU y me encantan este chichón. te agradezco mucho si lo haces!! <3

OKOKOK THIS IS SO CUTE, I'LL DO MY BEST YKYKYK I MADE BOTH HCS AND FANFICS BC I WASN'T SURE IF YOU WANTED ONE OF THOSE OR BOTH ENJOY IT. Estoy agradecido de que hayas encontrado esta página, muchas gracias. 👹

Miguel O'hara × Latino Male! Reader

Warnings: suggestive things at the end. Just platonic relationship between miguel and reader. Miguel is a hothead. SHITTY ENGLISH PLEASE DON'T HATE ME

He would be surprised because not everyday you found someone who's interested in learning his native language.

However, he would teach you the basics like “Hola! ¿Cómo estás?” and other sentences, and he would laugh at you because you can't say it without his english accent.

Miguel is very strict so with the pass of time he would get mad or angry if reader don't learn quick.

He's the type that teases reader with the Ñ and everytime they start arguing he remember you're learning spanish and says something like “Now say Ñandú.. What's the matter? Can't you say Ñ? Of course you can't.” He would degrade him.

Miguel is not always a grumpy old man so when he's not in the Spider Society or working, he would be soo gentle. Teaching you without a killer face, his big hands pointing at the words in the big orange hologram, caressing your hair and making it a mess when you're doing great, he's a busy man, but he was also a dad.

Plus, he doesn't have too much patience. Don't idealize him.

You were walking into Miguel's Office, you were trying to read a book in Spanish but it was so difficult to you, of course you had to search help, and who could teach you better than him? Your nerves send shivers down your spine as you walk in and you find him busy in his desk with some orange pannels in front of him, then, he notices you, and side-eyes you like you were dressing like a clown.

“What do you want?” He says and he keeps doing his job.

“Hi! I know you're working but I need help with... Spanish.”

You swallow as he stops for a second, your heart skips a beat as his eyes widen, he turns at you and you stay on your Space, like a rock, scared of what he could say.

“So, you came here because...?”

“Jessica told me you're mexican.”

He rolled his eyes and walks towards you, you stay freezed, now he's in front of you, looking down at your face, his muscles flexing with every move, his prominent body towards you, his predator eyes, he was smashable.

“I thought you were latino.. If I was your dad, I would be embarrased of yo.” You said nothing, but did a poker face in response, it was just.. Unnecesary, why would he say that? “And what's exactly what you want to learn..?”

“Everything I can.”

He looks at you, then at his workplace, then looks at you again, and sighs. “Let's see what we can do.”

...

“So, how do you say Hi to people?”

“Huola.” You say, proud of your knowledge, it would be perfect if you didn't have an accent.

He raised his hand to his forehead, trying not to cringe about it, “Ay, señor... It's Hola. But you're progressing.” His words were sharp and cold lice an ice knife, but you were still proud of what you habe learned with him, it took him a good while to get you in the line but at least you can understand what he says.

“That's something.” You smile.

Miguel looks at the hour and gasps, remembering he had a meeting 5 minutes ago and he was late, then, he looks at you and talks nervously “I have to go back to work, I'll be tomorrow soon at 08:00 AM if you need something else. Is that okay?”

“Yeah sure, Adiós Miggy!” You went out of the door as he still looks at you, surprised of your last words in spanish that sounded really good, drifting away from the office..

“Adiós, niño.”

He sits in his chair and giggles a bit, remembering how you said ‘Me han follado tantas veces' instead of ‘Me han fallado tantas veces'.. And he mutters to himself, his gutural voice sounding like a vibration “That's my boy.”

.................

Ay señor — Oh god..

Hola — Hello.

Adiós, Miggy! — Bye, Miggy!

Adiós, niño. — Goodbye, kid.

Me han follado tantas veces — I've been fucked so many times.. (the seggsy way)

Me han fallado tantas veces— I've been betrayed so many times..

#miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #atsv #atsv spiderman #miguel atsv #o'hara #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara fanfiction

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psychedelic-ink · 10 months

Text

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 || 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐌𝐈̇𝐂𝐒

** banner by the amazing @pedrorascal thank you so much bby for taking the time to make this for me 🧡🧡🧡

series summary: Still struggling to come to terms with his father's recent passing, burdened by the weight of the business he left behind, Javi feels adrift. Meanwhile, years later, an unexpected twist of fate brings you back into Javi's life again—the daughter of his favorite housekeeper. Uncertain about your future and what to do with it, you find yourself at a crossroads, while Javi wrestles with the irresistible pull he feels towards you.

pairing: javi gutierrez x ofc!mia pradera (written in second person, no body descriptions)

word count: 6.1k

chapter summary: Javi wasn't expecting your return after years, he also wasn't expecting to see you naked through his bedroom window.

warnings: javi secretly peeping into your room through the window, male masturbation, thoughts of oral, age gap, javi showing signs of depression, grief, brief mention of drug use

a/n: welcome to the new and improved first chapter of the series! I've been reworking this for a week now and decided to repost it. There's a lot that has been changed and added so I highly recommend reading this one before going forward. The second chapter will be coming soon (and I mean it this time lmaodfvd) I'll be making the other version of the first chapter private and I'm hoping you guys will enjoy this version as well 💜💜💜

Special thank you to @emilianamason who beta'd this for me and also helped me out with the Spanish bits, I'm truly grateful so thank you once again 💕

***dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

prev / next

The sky is a matte gray. It reminds Javi of the sea when there’s a storm raging underneath, the sand lifting from the bottom and giving the beautiful blue a more mud-like color. He sees crunchy leaves and smells cinnamon. It’s fall alright. He always finds this time of year a bit somber but in a romantic way. He’s holding a cup of espresso, the dark liquid still steaming. The pool has been drained for cleaning.

He can hear clatter coming from inside the house, mattresses are being flipped, apple pies are being baked. He’s the only man that lives here, yet everyone who works here spoils him, even if they don’t need to. No one really says anything but Javi can see it, the way they walk on eggshells around him, the conversations that fade into hushed whispers that carry the same lilt of his name.

Everyone treats him as a child. Not that he can blame them. Javi gave them little reason to behave otherwise. He did drugs, knew how to shoot a gun, and was the son of one of the most powerful men but still. . . he was a child in the sense that he knew little of the world. He wasn’t like Lucas who was more than eager to get his hands dirty.

A gentle child, that was what his father called him when he was young. He always uttered the words gently. Yet, hidden within his gentle expression but in his eyes, Javi could see the disappointment. He wanted a partner. Someone who did more than looking over the olive oil and wine business, it didn’t matter if Javi was good at it, his father wanted more of him.

In the end, he doesn’t mind the pampering—he’s grieving, isn’t he? He deserves it. He had no one else to take care of him, and the staff had been with him for years. He feels closer to them than Lucas. When his cousin mentioned taking over, Javi didn’t care. Not in the slightest. They were close enough that Javi didn’t have to worry about being killed or thrown out.

Besides, Javi enjoyed the finer things in life, which is why he didn’t mind overlooking the “front” of the job. He made sure that everything ran smoothly and Lucas seemed impressed by the growth of the business. Javi hated to admit it, but he did enjoy seeing that faint shimmer in his cousin’s eyes. The look that said; Oh, he’s not completely useless after all.

Besides, Javi enjoys sampling the wine. He adores the sourness that hits his tongue with every swallow.

“¿Discúlpeme señor?”

He takes a sip of his coffee.

“¿Si, señorita Pradera?”

Javi turns to look at her, a little smile playing on his lips. Lucía is one of his favorite employees and one of the ones that can read him like an open book. She’s a natural mother, a caretaker. Whenever he’s down on himself, she never once hesitated to pick him back up. It didn’t matter if he was shaking from going overboard on LSD or if he was crying during Paddington 2, she was there. It was nice to be taken care of. Something he couldn’t receive from his own family— maybe once or twice from his father. Javi didn’t know who his mother was, there was a lot of speculation about that.

Lucía just makes him happy. Talking to her feels like something light. He doesn’t need to overthink it, and if he says something wrong, he could always come and apologize. She never held a grudge. But despite how cheerful she seems, in her eyes, Javi can see the soft waves of sadness. Sometimes he saw the same waves in his own eyes, telling him that he was disappointing someone somewhere, that he’s done too many mistakes to turn back from.

She seems to be genuinely happy this time, her cheeks slightly flushed, forehead and cheeks glistening with a sheer coat of sweat.

“Do you remember, Mia?” she asks. “Mi hija.”

That’s right, Lucía had a daughter. Javi remembers you running around before you left to live with your father in the States. She often mentioned your name and sometimes she left to visit her but Mia never came. He isn’t sure if it was the father who didn’t let her or if Mia herself didn’t want to come, but regardless, Lucía was hurt by being away from her daughter for so long.

"I wanted to ask if my daughter could come para una visita. She's done with university y necesita un lugar to relax, figure things out."

He takes another sip of his coffee, it’s finished now. A leaf slowly spins down from above, the sunlight gently filtering through its translucent veins. It lands gently in the empty pool.

“¡Pero claro que si!” he says, and smiles. “When is she coming?”

“Next week.”

Javi was sitting on the terrace when you arrived.

He has a small plate of olive oil with thyme placed in front of him. Tearing a slice of bread into two, he dips a piece into the aromatic blend and brings it to his mouth. Javi only bites the part drenched in olive oil, he savors the taste, the sharp taste of dried thyme hitting his tongue. Shortly after, he goes for a second dip.

When he’s done chewing, you’re already at the top of the stairs.

You have no luggage, only a large backpack that slightly pulls your body back. Javi recognizes your face, the soft features he’s grown accustomed to when you were trailing behind your mother, asking to watch a movie on the big screen. You look more mature now, the corners of your face sharper yet still carry that roundness.

You’re staring at him as if he’s a long-lost sibling, your smile bright and wide. The expression is contagious, making him smile wide as well. Your gaze reminds him of a look he’s only seen in movies, the close-ups that sole purpose is to show the fondness in a person’s eyes. He’s not sure what he feels about that fond look in your eyes. Your gaze is incredibly soft and affectionate for a person who has been in the air for god knows how long—which is why he’s usually flying people in instead of the other way around.

You can see right through him, he thinks, nerves crackling with an uncomfortable feeling. It makes him conscious about how broken he truly is, his mask hardening the longer you smile.

“Javi!” you exclaim, arms opening wide. Not knowing what else to do Javi mimics you and wraps his arms around you. You giggle into his chest, your breath warm on his chest. “¡Te he extrañado!”

He missed you too.

Javi's ear catches the trace of an accent in your Spanish.

You smell of cheap coffee, chocolate, and the airport—and also a little bit of sweat, which is normal after such a long flight. Javi squeezes you once and feels you melting against him, you really must be tired to become so plaint under his touch. Swiftly, he releases his grip, yet your palms find solace on his shoulders, causing him to awkwardly flex his knees in order to accommodate the lingering touch. He wasn’t aware of how close you were standing. Your breath mingling with his own as your eyes dance along his face, taking in every worn-out detail.

You suddenly pull your hands back, a bashful chuckle slipping past your lips.

“Sorry about that— I’m feeling a bit jet-lagged.” you rock back and forth on your heels, anxious energy overwhelming your nerves. “How have you been?”

Javi stands still, eyes slightly wide, not knowing how to answer such a question. Physically, he feels good. Mentally, also good but he isn’t sure. He’s fine during the day, his routine occupying his mind enough so that he doesn’t register the loss. His father wasn’t around that much anyway. But when night fell and he laid his head against his overly fluffed pillow. . . that’s when he remembered. His chest ached, his eyes stung. He didn’t know how to deal with it so he remained silent, staring blankly at the ceiling.

Sometimes he even gets angry trying to muster up an answer.

He can never get angry with you though, besides you had no idea of knowing. His tongue nervously swipes over his bottom lip and his teeth dig into the inside of his cheek. He’s about to answer, say he’s fine, but you beat him to it.

“God, I’m being such an ass. Of course, you’re not okay,” you murmur more to yourself than him. He still hears you though and your words catch him by surprise. You softly hit yourself in the head, which makes worry roll down his spine. “I’m really sorry about your father, Javi. My mom told me. That must’ve been hard for you.”

Has it been hard for him?

Honestly, he’s not sure. His death, his funeral… it all passed by in such a blur. He remembers his father dying slowly, in an expensive hospital bed with flowers by his side. Javi doesn’t quite remember the rest. He doesn’t remember the funeral, the moment he was gently laid into the earth, never to be seen again.

He does remember feeling Gabriella’s hand on his shoulder. He also remembers Lucas standing close to him, his eyes watching the casket go down.

“I am okay,” he takes the hand that you’d hit yourself with, thumb slowly moving over the soft planes of your hand. He smiles when you let out a sigh of relief and turns his eyes to the empty chairs. “And thank you. I have been doing better. Why don’t you take a seat, you must be tired. I will call your mother for you.”

He watches as you take a seat and after a brief phone call to Lucía, Javi sits down as well. He asks what you’ve been up to, about your life in America after you’d moved away from your mother. Briefly, Javi sees a hint of hesitation and regret pooling in your eyes. He doesn’t know much about why you left, he only remembers that you were young back then, just a kid basically.

Javi manages to ease your thoughts by slowly sliding the basket full of bread and the small plate of olive oil toward your way, saying that you should eat. Only after the first bite you being to speak freely, telling him how hard university has been and that the competition was rough and had drained you out, making you feel like a shell of a person.

“You’re not a shell,” he answers, brows drawn together. You smile between bites of oil-soaked breath, shooting him an appreciative smile.

“You’re still the nicest man I know,” you say. Javi’s not sure how you could’ve drawn that connection, he doesn’t remember doing anything to gather such an observation but takes the compliment anyway. “I had a troublesome professor. He really did a number on me mentally, I like my field but I really want to do something else with my life.”

“And what is that?” he dips the leftover bread into the last pools of olive oil. “What do you want to do?”

"I yearn to weave tales," you express with a melodic lilt as if addressing an audience, then you laugh. Javi feels like he’s watching his favorite painting come to life, raw and vivid. “Sorry, that sounded snobby of me didn’t it?” your tongue pokes through your cheek. “I want to write a book, create screenplays, and even directing—I want to do it all. That's why I'm so happy mom called me here. It's such a beautiful place to think about big things like that, you know? And well. . . "

You trail off and worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “You’re here too, which is nice. You still like watching movies?”

“Of course,” he answers, feeling the tip of his ears growing warm. “You know that I take my movie-watching very seriously.”

You’re grinning now, “I do. I think you might be the one who introduced me to the media actually. We watched movies at home but here. . . ” you sigh, eyes taking in the scenery. “Here it felt magical. And I loved the endless movie facts you seemed to have stored up in that brain of yours.”

“You flatter me,” despite himself, he’s smiling from ear to ear. “It’s nice that you want to direct.”

“That’s only one of the things I want to do,” you say, stuffing your mouth with the last bit of bread. “But yeah. I know it’s a competitive field, some parts of it are downright evil, but it just calls to me. Imagine someone watching your story, isn’t that exciting?”

Javi's mouth momentarily opens, then promptly shuts. Yes, it is exciting.

Suddenly your brows furrow, your gaze meeting his as you swallow, “Didn’t you want to write a script as well? I remember you being really into Nicolas Cage.”

His lips part again but the words die on his tongue. He’s surprised that you remember so much about him. In all honesty, Javi does remember the movie nights he had with you before you left—But it definitely wasn’t anything inspirational. During the many boring, work-related dinners, he would find you crouched behind the wall listening, watching your mother, clearly bored out of your mind. He asked if you wanted to watch a movie one night, and you said yes. After that, it became a habit. You would come to him, tugging his sleeve and asking to go to the cinema room. He happily indulged, of course.

Javi doesn’t remember the first movie he played for you, but he does remember the second one; Raising Arizona.

Thankfully, your mother's animated voice swiftly dispels the silence that was dancing on the line of turning awkward.

“Mia!” Lucía's attempt to reach her daughter almost resulted in a tumble down the stairs. She catches herself midstep. “¡Estás aquí! How was your flight?”

“¡Mamá!”

Javi watches them hug, an uncomfortable yearning stirring in his gut. In a tearful embrace, Lucía holds you close, squeezing her daughter tight.

Javi wanted to talk more about films, ask about your favorite actors, he wanted to hear your stories. He seems to be invisible to them now, not that he blames them. Just in case one of them catches his wistful look, he forces a smile.

They climb up the stairs, mother and daughter. Javi catches fragments of Lucía's voice, softly describing the breathtaking view from your room. A feeling he can’t place tugs gently at his heart and whatever it was, he keeps it hidden beneath his quivering smile.

Javi stares at the now empty basket and plate. He sees only crumbs. The chair you were sitting in is pushed back, misplaced, forgotten. He picks up the plate and basket, slides the chair back into place, and heads up the stairs, making his way to the kitchen.

Javi is laying on the bed, the sheets cozy and warm. A book rests delicately between his broad palms but his mind is elsewhere, the words only mere shapes inked on paper.

He’s thinking of you. How full of life you are, how you still have ambitions– Your life full of undiscovered paths, he envies it. He envies the hope, the excitement, the illusion of choice. He’s happy for you, of course, but he can’t help the wistful beating of his heart. He had responsibilities since the day he was born. Javi is aware that he’s a privileged man. He’s not going to pity himself in thinking that he isn’t. He got what he wanted, but he also heard an earful about how he was wasting his life on silly things. That he should focus.

Focus on what? He always wanted to ask. He didn’t see why he couldn’t indulge in his hobbies and the business that was forced upon him. In the end, his father’s greatest fear came true, Javi has no interest in taking over. The family patriarch never said anything but it was clear to Javi that his father was disappointed.

A soft, gentle light catches his attention. It pours through the expansive, elegant windows adorned with ornate square bars reminiscent of wrought iron. Closing his book, Javi assumes a sitting position, his socked feet firmly planted on the cool floor. His interest is piqued. Normally, no one stays in the building across from him. It was usually reserved for family visits.

What happens next is an accident.

Or perhaps it is a blessing disguised as an accident. He’s undecided.

Javi sees you, towel loosely wrapped around your figure, hair still dripping wet. His mouth goes dry, eyes wide as he stares, unable to tear away his darkened gaze. Compared to when he first saw you today, your walk is slow, languid. You stand at the side of the bed and clumsily free yourself of the tight clutch of the fluffy towel. Dipping your head, you cradle the back of it with the towel and fold it in front, only to throw your entire head back, leaving you bare for all to see.

His cheeks become a shade darker, fingers uncontrollably twitching against his thigh. The muscle at the base of his stomach tightens, radiating warmth.

Did you know? Were you aware that he could see you? No, of course not. There’s no fathomable reason as to why you would want him to lay his eyes on you. Javi holds his breath. He should say something, should he not?

Briefly, you disappear from his eye line only to reappear a short moment later with two bottles of —what he assumes— lotion in your hands. His cock hardens as you slather your body with lotion. He swears he can smell it. A delicate scent that carries notes of daffodil and vanilla. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. Warm honey drips down his spine, forcing goosebumps to appear over his skin. He hates that he’s still watching.

He knows what he'll see if he was brave enough to look down; the telltale bulge of arousal within the front of his sweatpants. He can feel it twitching angrily, tempting him to reach down and take it in his hand and give in to the pleasure that would undoubtedly come with it.

Why the fuck is he still watching?

You start applying the lotion from your legs, going all the way up to your thighs. You massage it sensually into your skin, fingers spread wide as you lean down and pull yourself back up. Javi’s stomach churns, his own hand sneaking under the waistband of his sweats. He wraps his fingers around his thick cock, thinking how fortunate it was that he skipped wearing boxers before bed.

His shirt sticks to his skin. His chest heaving as he begins to stroke himself, the pressure of his hand makews his eyes roll back. His thumb swipes at the slit, spreading the precum all over the length of his cock. A groan echoes from the back of his throat. His hand is moving with ease now, tenderly gliding up and down his hard cock.

His teeth clenched tightly together, Javi’s eyes flicker back to the window. Your hands slide up your stomach and over your breasts, they bounce perfectly as gravity tugs them back down. You spread the lotion over your chest and neck. His hand moves faster. He slightly hunches forward, hips jerking as if he’s actually fucking himself into you.

His mouth opens in a silent moan as his fingers grip the base of his shaft. The sensation builds until his spine is aching for release. His hips buck against his hand and his thighs clench as the pleasure courses through his veins.

Javi imagines the soft moans he'd hear coming from his mouth, your lips wrapping tightly around the tip of his cock. His body tenses at the fictitious swirl of your tongue, tantalizing flexing with each stroke that takes him closer to the edge. With each thrust of his hips your body would grind against his leg, he’d feel you quiver. He thinks of the slickness of your saliva sliding down his length as you suck him dry. You’d squeeze his hips with both of your hands. . . it feels like electricity shooting through him. He wants to feel you against him, feel the heat of your skin, and kiss you senseless.

He cums hard while you’re getting dressed, his jaw lax as he thrusts fervently into his fist. His sweatpants cling to him like a second skin. He can feel the sticky mess inside as it pools in the fabric, disgusted by the warmth of his own body as it wraps around him. There’s a short second where the urge to throw up consumes him, he thinks about running to the toilet, emptying everything out to trick himself to believe that it never happened.

But it did.

The lights of your room fade away, only the moon left to kiss away Javi’s concern. His legs tremble and ache as he gets up. Pleasure still licks at his body, making him want more. His soft cock is uncomfortable trapped under his sweatpants, throbbing and aching despite the events that just transpired.

Javi grabs a new pair, this one thinner than the other and heads to the bathroom.

Javi jolts awake to the sound of a loud knock. Groggily, he rises from his bed, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes with a loose fist. Another knock follows, causing a small, annoyed growl to escape his chest. He reluctantly opens the door, his eyes half-lidded, only to find a familiar face on the other side that leaves him momentarily dumbfounded.

Memories of the previous night flash through his mind, and suddenly he becomes acutely aware of his morning arousal, discreetly straining against the front of his sweatpants.

“Mia?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. “What are you doing here?”

He notices the set of clean towels in your hands, but his attention is captivated by the way your eyes sweep over his body, your lips forming a mischievous smile. Confusion tugs at his thoughts while a gentle, chilling breeze infiltrates his room, leaving his abdomen colder than usual.

Oh.

OH.

He doesn’t have his shirt on—shit.

“Looking good Señor Gutierrez,” you tease, eyes going over his body one more time. “Mom told me I should help around, so I brought you your clean towels.”

“Ah,” he says stupidly. “Gracias, querida. I hope she is not working you too hard.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you shrug. “Besides, I’m staying here rent-free. I might as well do a bit of work.”

He takes the towels, his hands feeling oddly disconnected, as if they belong to someone else. You flash him a final smile before pivoting on your heel. Javi watches with undeniable hunger as you confidently strutted away, his eyes admiring the way your hips sway as you saunter off. He feels the familiar stirring in his body, his cock demanding attention that he can’t give in the middle of the hallway. He continues to gaze until you vanish into one of the many corridors.

His throat feels unbelievably tight as he closes the door and heads to the bathroom. Javi feels a flock of birds pecking at his brain, reminding him of Prometheus. He doesn’t know what he should be feeling. The only thing he does know is that he shouldn’t be thinking of you in such a way.

Javi stares at his reflection in the mirror. The whites of his eyes are stained red, the bags underneath prominent and dark. It looks as if he hasn’t slept in years.

A deep sigh escapes his lips as he undresses. He won’t be seeing you like that again anyway, there’s no point in dwelling over something that only happened once.

Javi had underestimated how frequently he would be seeing you around. Your gaze is constant. He knows you’re watching him without actually having to look; his skin tightens, the back of his head starting to tingle. You’re mostly doing chores and don’t stop to chat with him, which he’s grateful for. But still, from your gaze, he senses that unlike him, you do want to talk.

The guilt is eating him from the inside out. Your naked form is engraved into the back of his lids, whenever he closes his eyes, he sees you. The sting of his eyes is constant, aching for moisture. He can’t fight against it and blinks, and as soon as he does, his cock grows hard.

Lucía would be furious with him if she knew—she’d be absolutely disgusted.

He worries that you might’ve seen him last night. Maybe that’s why you wanted to stop and talk with him. Fortunately, the mansion is spacious enough to provide him with hiding spots, allowing him to retreat when needed.

With each passing hour of the day, his uncertainty and guilt fester within him like poison.

He hurries to his bedroom as soon as dinner is over. Normally, he would have a glass of wine, engage in conversation with the staff, and unwind. However, not today, not with you present. . . observing him. . . talking to him.

He just can’t.

Javi ignores confused glances directed at him and excuses himself. The looks linger as he walks away, though there’s a probable chance that he might be imagining it. He’s convinced that you and your mother are both counting his every step. He doesn’t turn to check.

When he closes the door to his bedroom, back pressed snug against the wood, his breathing becomes strained, lungs rattling with every struggling gasp of air. His pupils blown, his gaze immediately flickers to your bedroom window. Much to his relief, and disappointment, the lights are off.

Javi settles onto the bed, the watch on his bedside table ticking away, drawing closer to the time he had seen you naked yesterday. He finds himself waiting until the hands of the clock reach the exact same moment. The lights are still off. Another minute goes by.

Then, finally, a beam of light that comes from a far pours through his windows, shadows stretching across the floor. He can breathe again.

Standing in the middle of the room, you stretch, your arms seemingly reaching for the sun. Javi’s gaze follows your every move. He watches as you scroll on your phone for about five minutes on the bed. He watches as you disappear, leaving him to stare into an empty room. He watches as he swears he can hear the music that you’re blasting from your phone.

He watches and waits until he can see you again. Just like the day before. Bare. Soft.

His mouth waters, cock already throbbing with need.

Javi’s not sure how long he waits. It could’ve been an hour or a minute, but whatever time had passed, you appear once again, the same towel wrapped around your body.

His mouth dry, he swallows hard. Javi's breath catches in his throat as his eyes drift over your curves. Unbidden, his hand moves eagerly to his crotch, eyes fixated on you as he palms himself. His tongue peeks out, wetting his lips as you shift onto your stomach. Your towel slides up, revealing the perfect mounds of your ass, and he gulps, his fingertips trembling as he hastily unzips himself. A moan escapes him as he admires the lobes of your ass peeking from beneath the towel.

Precum already oozes from the tip, and Javi eagerly wraps his fingers around his hardening cock. His strokes are slick and smooth, his breaths coming faster.

Javi hears the rush of blood pounding in his ears as his breathing grows even more jagged with every passionate thrust of his hips. You lift your legs, spreading them apart and crossing them from side to side while watching a video from your phone, completely unaware. His hungry gaze is met with the entire expanse of your body exposed only to him as small water droplets still cling to your skin, cascading down your legs and wetting the area between them. The sinful image of your pretty pussy becoming wet and glistening spurs him on, he imagines how wet you’d be, only for him.

He pushes his hips harder against his fist, the need to feel connected to you driving him forward. His pounding heart is accompanied by an unquenchable craving to touch and explore every inch of your body.

Javi’s grip tightens and tremors start to run through his body. His head drops back as his movements quicken, pushing him closer and closer to the edge. With a deep moan, his muscles coil tight as the pleasure cascades through him, a warm rush flooding every inch of him. He shudders joyfully and with a final thrust, he coats his fist in his own release.

His face is contorted in a blissful expression, his eyes closed in reverence. Drops of sweat slowly trickle down his toned body, drawing paths through the smattering of light brown hair that adorns his tanned skin. His lips are slightly parted as he drinks in the pleasure, a low moan coursing through his lips.

With half-lidded eyes, Javi’s gaze drops down to his spent cock. He made a mess of himself and the floor underneath, the pearly droplets glistening in the soft light.

He’s going to have to clean that.

The guilt comes rushing through. He’s disgusted by himself, the feeling tasting of bile that is thick on his tongue. It felt good at the given moment but now that his head is clearing, what he did just makes him feel sick. He’s quick to wipe the floor with one of his shirts, then tosses it into the laundry basket for cleaning.

Javi gives you one last glance before leaving the room, you’re still on your phone, completely oblivious to him.

He decides to stay in one of the guestrooms that night, but it doesn’t stop with one.

Javi stays there the next night, and the next—

And the one after that.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“What— No, why would you think that?”

Javi was lying, of course. He’d been avoiding you like the plague, turning the other way whenever he saw you approaching him. It's been about a week since he changed rooms. He didn’t tell anyone about it, the house was big enough for him to occupy another room without anyone knowing.

However, he hadn’t expected you to actively seek him out, which he now realized was stupid of him. He just wanted to do a bit of skeet shooting, a means to vent his frustrations. The morning was chilly and it made goosebumps rise across his skin. He enjoyed the feeling, which was why he skipped wearing a jacket.

You, on the other hand, were covered from head to toe.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, wrapping your arms around yourself. A faint cloud dances from your lips. “Maybe it’s just me being paranoid. You really don’t mind me being here, right?”

Javi gently leans the gun against the sturdy stone rail. His heart clenches at your question, he never wanted you to feel guilty, or for you to feel unwanted. He slowly shakes his head, his gaze rising up to meet yours.

“Por supuesto que no,” he responds, his voice quivering, the biting air seeming to grip his vocal cords as he struggles to express himself. Of course, he doesn’t mind. “You are free to stay here as long as you wish. I just…I have been—”

He chokes up, mouth gaping, his gaze still fixed on yours. You're the first to look away, shifting your eyes elsewhere, and instinctively, you hug yourself tighter, trying to ward off the chill in the air. A nervous laugh escapes your lips.

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me, at least, not if you don’t want to. I’m always happy to listen. I just wanted to be sure if I was overstaying my welcome or not.”

“It’s okay. As I said, you are free to stay.”

You smile at him then, asking him whether or not he'll be joining you for breakfast, he says that he’ll come after taking a couple more shots. You eye the rifle, eyebrow raised in a peculiar way. You state that it’s too cold and head inside. Javi stares as you leave, he decides not to shoot anything, instead, he follows you to the dining room.

Javi moves back into his room that night.

You had excused yourself early claiming that you felt dirty and needed a shower. Javi couldn’t help it. He waits, like always does. A week of not seeing you made him grow hungry, his body was left in a constant state of wanting. He needed to see you, he needed to cum while witnessing your naked body.

This time he has no shame in ridding himself of his pants, wrapping a hand around himself, he lazily strokes himself. He still remembers every curve and crevice of your body, it haunts him day and night, decorating his dreams and nightmares alike. Javi’s eyes travel along the windowsill of your room, the lights are still off, much to his surprise.

He’s startled as the door slams open, a triumphant “I knew it!” ringing out.

With panic, Javi attempts to pull up his pants but the stubborn fabric sticks to his legs instead, making him stumble forward and almost falls off the bed. Luckily, he manages to catch himself at the very last second, planting himself firmly on the mattress. He hears the door close, more silently compared to how it was opened, he finds himself staring at your shoes. He gulps.

“Why are you here?” he asks, voice horrified. “How long have you known?”

“Not that long,” you answer. He still refuses to meet your gaze. “I had my suspicions when you started to avoid me, then I noticed you switched rooms. One night I waited in my room to see if you were watching or not.”

Tears sting the corner of his eyes, he’s pathetic. Then, like a soothing oceanic breeze, he feels your finger curling underneath his chin, forcing his downcast gaze up. His cheeks flush at the soft touch. He expects you to laugh at him, but he finds a gaze of sympathy instead. You pull down his bottom lip and every bit of oxygen leaves his lungs.

“Lo siento, Mia,” he whispers.

“Está bien, I don’t care. I. . . I have an idea, actually.”

Wide-eyed, he looks at you with concern. Your thumb still lingers on his lip, he enjoys it there, he enjoys the comfort you provide despite his mind screaming at him how disgusting and pitiful he is.

“And what might that be?”

“We can. . . help each other out,” you answer, flustered, your breathing short. “If you want to, that is. I had a stressful year. . . I wouldn’t mind having some fun.”

His brows furrow, “I do not understand.”

Another lie. He did. He just couldn’t believe it to be true.

“I think you do, Señor Gutierrez,” you tease. His heart skips a beat at the playful lilt of your voice, his mind is racing. You squeeze his bottom lip gently and his breath hitches.

“I’m not—” he licks his lips, the tip of it touching the pad of your thumb. “I am not that experienced.”

This time his whole body burns. He had lovers in the past, of course, but not many. None of those relationships lasted long either, how could it with the family that he had? He wasn’t even sure what he liked or disliked, and after a while, he just stopped trying to form a meaningful connection with anyone. He closed up, not really knowing what else to do with the cards he was dealt with.

Your answer takes him by surprise.

“That’s okay. We can learn new things about each other, together.”

His heart flutters at the softness of your voice, the kindness of your smile. He parts his lips to speak, to tell you how grateful he is, but before he can, you drop to your knees, a sly smile stretching across your face.

“Do you want my help?” you ask, your fingers spread across his thighs. He sucks in a sharp breath as you give him a gentle, yet firm, squeeze. “Tell me what you want, Javi.”

“I would— I would love to feel your lips on my cock, princesa.”

“Princesa?” you repeat, amused. “I like the sound of that.”

He finds heaven between your lips.

#javi gutierrez x f!reader #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x oc #javi gutierrez x ofc #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez x fem!reader #javi gutierrez x mia pradera #the unbearable weight of massive talent #tuwomt fanfiction #tuwomt fanfic #tuwomt #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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odetodilfs · 1 year

Text

Pololo

Pairing: Joel Miller x hispanic!male!reader

Warnings: none but this has A LOT of Spanish (translations at the end)

A/N: I'm sorry that it's kinda shitty, but I tried to keep descriptions as vague as possible as well as many thing cause I want this to be readable for every hispanic no matter what your country is from

It was a quiet afternoon with Joel in Jackson, cuddling, kissing each other when you felt like it. Ellie was in her room, probably flicking through some magazines you’d managed to find in an abandoned home. Your head was on Joel’s chest, you were feeling really cozy in that position, his warm breathing on your hair, it was heaven. You still had a hard time believing this was real, how you had a beautiful boyfriend, how you had adopted a beautiful girl, it was all so perfect, of course, it wasn’t really, it was very far from it, you did live in a world where raiders and clickers were less than 1000 meters away from the city, but it was good compared to the realities of many others.

“Can you teach me Spanish?” he said out of the blue. He’d heard you speaking it, he knew you were proud of your *(insert hispanic country)*’s heritage, your culture, and the fact that he wanted to learn it was kind of cute. “It’s hard, do you really want to?” you made sure,

“I’m very sure” he smiled, “Hola” he said, you laughed and rolled your eyes with a smile, “Oh wow”

“I’m trying my best, tell me something in Spanish” he asked, and you obeyed, “Joel, eres el hombre más hermoso que he visto en mi vida” you said, “Something about me” he smirked

“Yeah,” “Good or bad?” he asked “Hmmm, I could just not tell you,” “No, please tell me” “What’s the word?” you teased slightly

“P-¿ Por favor?” he begs you

“I just said that you were the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen” you smiled, Joel blushed slightly, “I am?” “Sí, lo eres” you kissed him sweetly on the lips.

“But can you teach me Spanish?” he asked again “Of course, querido” you said as you roped him in for a hug. His warmth filling you, you looked up at his eyes, those beautiful brown eyes that kept you alive, “My beautiful brown eyed man…” you smiled at him, he just looked down at you with a smile, “I could say the same about you” he smiled, looking down and kissing your forehead again, he lost himself in your dark hair.

Two months went by and Joel’s Spanish was surprisingly amazing, he clearly enjoyed learning just for you, you had a simple system, every time he got something right you kissed him on the lips sweetly, that proved to be very effective…

“Ok pues Joel, dime cómo te gusta tomarte el café” you asked, trying to have conversations in Spanish, “Me gusta con poca azúcar y poca leche” his words tinted with that cute southern accent of his, but you didn’t mind, “Correct!” you exclaimed and went to kiss him on the lips, enjoying that mustache against your upper lip, “Me gusta tus besos” he said, incorrectly, “Nope, you like my kisses in plural, so how is it?” he thought about it,

“Ugh… I can’t remember…” he said, “You add a letter at the end of “gusta”” you hinted but he still didn’t get it, “I’ll kiss a part of your body that starts by it, you slowly went in and kissed his arched nose, he sighed in slight pleasure and it clicked for him, “Me gustan tus besos…” he corrected himself.

“Precioso” you kissed his forehead and hugging him, giving him his reward for his minimal thinking, you really just wanted to feel his touch, “look at you, you’re basically a ranchero now!” you joked, he laughed “or huaso, or gaucho” “What are those?” he asked

“Cowboys but from other countries” he smiled at the thought, “I see you, you’d look cute with a poncho and a hat” you teased, he blushed like mad

“I would?” “Yeah, you would,” you said as you kissed him on the cheek.

“Mi pololo” you said

“What does that mean?” “It means boyfriend in slang really, but you can pretty much use it for anyone you love” you smiled at him, he said “Po… lolo?” he repeated “Yes, pololo” you smiled at him, “but one day, we could be esposos” you smirked at him because he knew what you were saying, “Yeah, one day” he smiled and laughed to himself, as he knew that tonight would be the night he’d propose to you in your language.

TRANSLATIONS (won't translate what's already done in the fic)

Querido = Dear

Sí, lo eres = Yes, you are

Ok pues Joel, dime cómo te gusta tomarte el café = Ok so Joel, tell me how you like your coffee

Me gusta con poca azúcar y poca leche = I like with little sugar and little milk

Me gustan tus besos… = I like your kisses...

Precioso = Precious

Ranchero = Basically, the Mexican version of a cowboy

Huaso = A cowboy too, but from Chile Gaucho = Yet another cowboy, but from Argentina

#joel miller #joel miller x male reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x male reader #pedro pascal characters #gay #hispanic male reader #hispanic reader

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eclipsedzs · 1 year

Note

dancing w quackity at a party??

maybe like the song reloj by rauw alejandro

idk like a spanish song

ITS FINE IF U DONT WANT TO😭

𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗚𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗛𝗶𝗴𝗵

𝗘𝗖𝗟𝗜𝗣𝗦𝗘𝗗 ▰▰▰▱▱▱ VOLUME QUACKITY

𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧

Genre: ✓

Paring(s): Quackity x Fem!Reader

Summary: Experience a night of drinks and dancing

Disclaimer(s): Cursing, Short i’m sorry D:

(Don’t be Sorry! I love writing for you guys even if i’m a bit slow of getting ‘em out!)

♫ ― ♫

THE MUSIC FILLED THE Air of the dimly lit bar, the sound of footsteps and talking barely registered in the young couples mind, there hands on each other as the stared into each-other’s eyes.

Real hasta la muerte, ¿oí'te, bebé? Convertimo' el hotel en un putero

There moments were lithe and graceful, gliding across the small party voted dance floor. Your eyes tracked the dark brown ones infront of you, counting the small beauty marks that littered his face.

His long dark hair- like always- was covered with a clean washed cap that seemed to match his suit.

Veinticuatro hora' no dan pa' lo que quiero. Baby, si tú fuera' la muerte, yo me muero, oh, oh. La noche grita sexo, oh, oh, oh

You danced, movements fluid and effortless. His undulating to the rhythm as her hands danced from his shoulders to his neck, playing with the king and soft dark hair.

His eyes scrunched up as a smile rose on his face, a rose blush coating his beautiful skin as he moved along with her.

His hands at her hips as he guided her along, feeling the movements of her own body as he danced with the same quiet intensity. His body moving perfectly with you.

Your hands glided with each strand of hair, moving your hips along.

You moved together as one, body’s moving as if they were floating. Though- as much as you could hope. You couldn’t stay serious.

Your heart bubbles as you let out a laugh- leaning your head onto the man’s shoulder while sucking in a breath.

Si el reloj nos diera más tiempo. Baby, e' que tú ere' mía, lo que te haría, eh-eh. Si el reloj nos diera más tiempo (Brr)

Quackity laughed with you, his body heaving as he tried to keep his own knees from collapsing. You both knew it was a struggle to keep serious, but you both loved it that way.

Quackity smiled as he began to lead you from he dance floor, taking you to the slightly crowded bar.

He watched your movements as you talked to a freind. His soft eyes gazing at your face, taking in every small mark- ranging from scars to slight pimples or blemishes.

He loved it, he loved the way you for everything you had to offer. He could only hope he could offer the same amount of love as you deserve.

The music had calmed, a more quiet song quickly overcoming the atmosphere. As they dipped there drinks and chatted with friends, the dark haired male couldn’t help but cherish the love of his life.

He knew the girl he was sitting across from was someone he wanted to spin his life with. They always say don’t rush love, he would wait till the earth ended if he had to.

Your heart swelled when your eyes met the dark ones of your boyfriend. The love that swirled in them as the light shined to them made your body shiver with the overwhelming happiness.

And as the night went on you danced and danced, song after song. Feeling like you to were the only people in the world, nothing else mattered as the world muted around you.

#quackity #quackity imagine #dsmp #qsmp #quackity x reader #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #mcyt #imagine #fem!reader

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melodygatesauthor · 8 months

Note

Can I request any thots you might have on the moon boys with a male reader? (Could be the character from your pride fic idm- I just love your mk/male reader stuff 😭😭)

AND CONGRATS ON 2K!! You are such an insanely talented and dedicated writer and you deserve all this and more. Best of luck with your novel, by the way! And thank you personally for inspiring me both with art and writing! 💞💞-🦝

Ooooh yes of course! I love talking about my m!Reader <3 He might be huge but he's very precious to me lol. Wanna put him in my pocket.

And thank you so much! I'm very excited about what's next for the novel, I'm trying to get things organized before I start writing but I'm almost ready!

And to say I inspired you...I can't...brain fries...does not computeeee 🥺 <- my face rn

Fic for context: Feeling You Can't Fight

NSFW below the cut

Steven is absolutely obsessed with our Reader in Feeling You Can't Fight. The man is big, and while looks aren't everything, it's definitely Steven's favorite feature. He likes being the smol one.

Nothing get's Steven more turned on than feeling your hard cock against his ass while he's cooking dinner for you both.

Sometimes he gets whiny - "love, m'busy tryna get this squash in the oven, can't it wait?" - No matter how much he 'protests', he fucking loves it.

Half the time he'll stop what he's doing when you cage him in from behind against the counter, letting out a shudder as your lips brush against the shell of his ear.

Dinner often gets put to the side or burnt because you're bending Steven over every surface in the kitchen with your fat cock buried in his tight hole.

----

I'm going to do my best to talk about the other two without spoilers for the fic lol...

Marc I HC as a switch. He likes being on top as much as he likes being on bottom. Normally if he's going to bottom, our reader has to sort of push him into it, and it's only when Marc is feeling particularly vulnerable.

Imagining Marc, just waking up from sleep, feeling the prod of your cock against his ass first thing. He's groaning a bit because he hasn't bottomed for you yet but he's not stopping you as you pull his pants down to his thighs.

You're a leaking mess and he's to ashamed to speak so he just turns his head into the pillow while the breath punches out of his lungs. When you test his entrance, he mutters a low - fuck - before you push inside.

Marc's tight, and wasn't ready for your size, despite talking tough. When his mouth opens, you fill it with two of your thick fingers while you rut into him at a steady pace.

----

Then there's Jake, who I think would be a top through and through, but once in a while, you're able to get the upper hand. Usually it's when Jake gets mouthy, you can grab him by the back of the neck - "What did you just say little Jakey? Hm?" -

He actually enjoys the way your fat dick fills him up and stretches him out, forcing him to drool like a dog all over the fresh linen sheets. He's groaning and whining louder than Steven sometimes, being as vocal as he is, muttering curses in Spanish when you spill your hot seed in his asshole.

----

Phew...I went off there haha. Thank you for the love and support <3

Melody's 2k Celebration Masterlist

#moon knight #steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #moon boys x male reader #male reader #jake lockley x male reader #steven grant x male reader #marc spector x male reader #moon knight headcanons #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #steven grant fanfiction #marc spector fanfiction #jake lockley fanfiction

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gatorbites-imagines · 1 year

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Okay since you now write for cod what about Alejandro, Soap, and Köing reacting a their tall femboy boyfriend who's great at fighting? Like even beat ghost in heels and a dress. Thank you!

Alejandro Vargas, John “Soap” MacTavish, König x tall feminine male reader

headcanons

I just went with a feminine reader, please never use the word femboy in requests sent to me, cuz ill most likely delete them since the word makes me a hundred types of uncomfortable.

I’ll write this one tho since I’ve never actually told yall how I feel about the word, just for future reference.

Now I made the reader taller than Alejandro and Soap, but he’s shorter than König cuz that man is taller than a building.

Alejandro Vargas

- I think Alejandro would be very impressed with how skilled you are, especially when on a bet you wipe the floor with Ghost, whilst also wearing heels. He will never let Ghost live it down.

- You are already taller than him, so when you wear heels, he has to turn his head upwards so far to look at you. He’s the type to stand on his tippy toes to kiss you, he doesn’t care what others think.

- Alejandro definingly will get you heels or other clothes he thinks you would look great in, he gets some help from Rodolfo to find websites that has stuff in your size, since it can be hard to find something that’ll fit tall people.

- Alejandro is big spoon no matter how tall you are, live with it. He loves to wrap you in his arms and hold you close, presses kisses all over the back of your neck and says all kinds of mushy things in Spanish when you cuddle.

- He would let you practice makeup on him if you wanted, would even go to debriefings or on missions wearing it if he had too. He doesn’t care what others think, because its special to him and it makes you happy.

John “Soap” Mactavish

- Soap would never let Ghost live it down after you beat his ass in your tallest heels, he’s on the sidelines cheering like he’s a fulltime cheerleader. He also made bets with the others that you would win so he has money for your next date night.

- Soap is somewhat embarrassed that you’re taller than him, mainly when you wear tall heels because you tower over him so much. He’s more embarrassed because he can’t kiss you or wrap his arms around you and rest his head on your shoulder.

- He’s not above jumping to kiss you, or crawling up onto a ledge or counter to kiss you.

- He flirts about your height, like asking how the weather is up there beautiful and things like that.

- Soap goes absolutely crazy if you wear his clothes, even if most of it doesn’t fit height wise. He goes out of his way to get hoodies that are way too big for himself so you can steal them and feel comfortable in them.

König

- König would want to train with you himself, especially after seeing you throw Ghost around like a ragdoll. He would ask questions to how you were able to get so skilled in heels. He actually takes what you tell him to heart, because you never know when you might need to fight in heels.

- Out of heels you are shorter than König, but wearing heels you are taller than him, which he secretly really likes.

- He likes to be able to look up at you or have you wrap around him from behind, he also likes he doesn’t have to bend at the knees a whole lot to kiss you even if you aren’t wearing heels, makes it life a lot easier.

- König also feels like he doesn’t stand out as much with you around since you are both so tall.

- He would throw down with anyone who ever disrespects you for being feminine, he might be shy and have major anxiety, but he will kill a man for insulting you. Then he would hug you and mutter all kinds of sweet words and compliments in German.

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prodigal-explorer · 6 months

Text

specific things i’ve seen tss fans do that make me hate this fandom:

(disclaimer: a lot of this fandom is great but oh my lord i just have to show some of y’all how your behavior affects others because it’s atrocious)

please read this guys because chances are you or someone you know has done at least one of these things because they’re so rampant in this fandom it’s crazy-

1. sending death threats and calling somebody a “boot licker” and a “d-rider” for defending thomas’ silence about the war. like he shouldn’t be saying anything about the war unless he knows enough to have authority on it??? he’s a privileged white man who lives in a place where the war is not taking place. what productive thing would he be able to say about the war?? leave the man alone, he’s not a politician or a military general. if he did say something, it would probably be misinformation. stop acting like you’re some saint because you’re using bullying tactics to make yourself feel more woke.

2. writing aggressive posts about stuff thomas does that is not an issue. what i mean is that he does deserve to be called out if he fucks up (like the whole thing with underpaying his employees), but i saw a post where someone was using super aggressive language because thomas said he was “being delusional” in a short and someone was on their high horse about how thomas was “being insensitive to people who have mental disorders that involve delusions.” like…please go outside. anyone can have a delusion. and if thomas does make a REAL mistake that actually matters, there are better ways to go about it than spewing hate and name calling. he tries very hard and actively patches up mistakes as well as he can, which is more than what can be said about most cis white male celebrities.

3. blatant racism. i’ve been told by white people that my views on poc headcanons are wrong. like i’m a poc??? i would know more than you??? and i try to be nice about it?? so don’t attack me for saying that there’s nothing wrong with race headcanons as long as they’re done in a respectful way? or that just because roman speaks spanish one time doesn’t automatically make him latino and that’s actually a pretty racist assumption? just trust poc fanders. WE KNOW WHAT WE ARE TALKING ABOUT BECAUSE WE EXPERIENCE RACISM ON A DAILY BASIS. white people will never know what it’s like. so stop acting like it. that’s a huge issue in this fandom.

4. a LOT of aphobia. there’s this concept going around that’s like “oh the sides could be ace because they’re not human so they don’t get romance!” like…babes let’s step back and look that over…cuz ace people aren’t ace because they don’t “understand” sex. that’s infantilizing and dehumanizing. it’s possible to be ace just because you don’t want sex in a conventional way. the sides are not a vessel for your aphobia.

5. SO MUCH RUDENESS WHEN IT COMES TO CHARACTER CRITICISM. the amount of death threats i’ve gotten just because i hate patton??? like PLEASE. i’m allowed to hate a character!! i have trauma and patton reminds me of horrible people in my life who did horrible things to me! he’s like a carbon copy of them in my mind! and even if i didn’t have trauma, it would still be valid because patton is a flawed character! there is nothing bad or wrong about dissecting a character’s unkind actions??? that’s just basic analysis. like i ADORE roman and you don’t see me wishing death upon people who don’t like him??? i just block and move on or i hear them out!! because discussion about the flaws of a character you like isn’t a personal attack!!! people NEED to get that in their heads cuz it’s so frustrating when people take it so personally and actively seek it out just to get mad at it.

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #tss #roman sanders #sanders sides fandom #virgil sanders #remus sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides critical #sanders sides criticism #tss crit #tss critical

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pedros-husband · 6 months

Text

you get sick

pedro pascal characters x male reader

characters included: javier pena, joel miller, javi gutierrez, marcus moreno, agent whiskey, silva, oberyn martell, dieter bravo

javier pena: he's always constantly worrying about you due to the nature of his job and the danger both of you are in every day because of it, so when you get sick his anxiety is absolutely sky high. He calls in sick to take care of you and won't take his eyes off you for even a moment unless hes fetching food or medicine. if you try to talk about how he's worried about you and how endearing you find it, he'll brush you off and say he's just annoyed that he has to take care of you, but there will be a slight heat to his cheeks (it's totally the Colombian heat he'd tell you). He'd mutter spanish curses under his breath the whole time, grumbling about how annoyed he was that he had to be stuck at home taking care of you, or how stupid you were to go and get sick.

He's not stupid so he'll reduce affection to light touches and holding hands, so he doesn't get sick either, no matter how much you beg for a kiss or to cuddle. if you're persistent enough however, he may get in the bed facing away from you so you can cuddle him. he'd get annoyed if you get all your 'sickness' over his shirt but he won't move until he knows for definate that you're asleep, before getting out and placing a soft kiss to your sweaty forehead. he doesn't mind taking care of you that much really.

joel miller: pre breakout- he’s dealt with Sarah being sick but beyond that he’s not all that experienced, but that doesn’t mean he won’t try his best. If he can he’ll get a day or two off work (not guaranteed) and he’ll care for you with gentle words and cold compresses to your sweaty forehead. Or he’ll run to the neighbours and beg for some chicken soup for you. He’d refuse to kiss you on the lips but he’d be big spoon and cuddle you until you felt better.

He’d reassure you that your not a burden a lot and remind you how much he loves you with little:

“My handsome man”

“I love taking care of you sweetheart, makes me feel all important y’know”

He’s just a big softie inside really 🥰

Javi Gutierrez: he’s so sweet and caring, he hates seeing you sick so he’d take time away from whatever work he had to stay by your bedside, getting the most expensive medicine he could find only for you to ask him for some warm soup or cuddles. He of course doesn’t care if he gets sick so he’s give you so many sweet and tender kisses, making sure you know how much he loves you. He’d even let you choose a movie other than a nick cage movie if you were reallyyyy sick.

Marcus Moreno: he’d give you his mothers best soup to make you feel better and he’d ask to work at home for a while whislt he takes care of you, sitting on the bed with your head resting in his lap as he works on his computer, staring glances down to see your sick and puffy face sleeping peacefully in his lap cuddled up under blankets. He’d smile and occasionally run his fingers through your hair or traces shapes onto your soft skin, happy tears pricking in his eyes. He’d get missy to write you a get well soon card too.

Agent whiskey: due to his past with his ex he’s so much more concerned if you’re ever sick or hurt in anyway so he’d refuse to go out on missions until he knows for a fact your fit and healthy, constantly by your side biting his lips till their bloody and cracked, nails bitten down so much blood seeps onto his hands and he constantly has to wash them. He’d go crazy over medicine and food so much he often ends up stressed and overworked so much he gets sick too, ending up with you two looking after eachother, your thumbs rubbing over the soft skin of his knuckles to soothe him and whisper sweet words into his ears like:

“I’m okay mi amor, rest your pretty head”

“We’re a couple of sick love struck idiots hm?”

And he’d whisper things like:

“My man is so handsome even when he’s sick huh? That’s not fair”

“You gotta get better soon or I might just go crazy with worry mi Vida. And that wouldn’t be very fun for you now will it?”

Silva: he’d be a lot more quiet with his approach, choosing to simply sit with you, a cold rag dabbed across your sweaty skin and his fingers interlocking with yours. He’d read a book in the rocking chair husky he observed you sleep to make sure you’re okay and he’d take nice cold baths with you propped against his chest, his fingers tracing shapes onto you chest as he mumbles Spanish into your ear.

Oberyn martell: he’s a busy man- being prince of dorne but he’d send for his servants and the best doctors in the land to look after you, settling for comforting you at night. He’d climb into bed with a simple robe on only covering his lower half, one arm hanging over your side and a leg tangled with yours- not too much contact to overheat you in your sick state- but enough that you’re both satisfied. He’d be worried about you and constantly ask his servants updates on you through the day/s and visit you if it got really bad- sitting by your beside holding your hand with tears threading to spill though he’d never admit it if he did cry, chalking it up to you being sick and delusional. Or that it was a dream.

Dieter bravo: he’s been sick so many times from drugs and alcohol that it’s pretty normal for him and he knows how to deal with it like it’s nothing. Of course with you it’s different and he’d treat you liek a prince- knowing the pain you’re probably in. He’d give you the best medicine he knows and even some of his reserved stuff for extremely dark days if he felt needed, and he’d lay with you until it was all better.

sorry I was gone so long everyone- something happens in my life and I took some time off for myself. I am planning on releasing something soon but I just wanted to get something out there for now :)

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sochawrites · 1 year

Note

Hi I was just wondering if you do yandere characters? If so I would like to request a yandere!comics!Bane with a reader who came to him to learn how to fight but then started backing away from him when he tries to get them into the more crime-y stuff.

If your not comfortable with the yandere bit then you can ignore it.

I'm not necessarily against it, I never tried to write it, but it can't hurt to try! ^^

I tried to keep this gn, since you didn't specify which gender you want me to write it for, but comic!Bane does use Spanish from time to time and, well, it kind of lacks neutral terms. I opted for switching between male and fem terms with those words since it's what some people use in my country instead of the neutral ones. But the closest I have ever been to learning Spanish was taking a few courses on Duolingo, if some terms are wrongfully used, I am terribly sorry.

And Happy New Year!

Abeja

Yandere! Bane x gn! reader

Have Bane's gorgeous ass and back as an apology (I may have dug out my copy of Europa just to get this)

Bane, the man, the myth, the legend, and currently the newest foe of Gotham's Dark knight, but in this madness-ruled city, there was a new one almost every week. Yet this one was different. He wasn't mad like the clown prince of crime, or a part of organized crime like the Penguin. He acted here of his own will, and he wasn't alone.

His motives were unclear, but that didn't matter to you all that much, he was the new big fish in town and was there to stay, that was all you needed to know. You made your way to his hideout, going by the coordinates you traded with some more friendly crooks, getting halfway through before being caught. You could say that it was your superpower, but in reality, you were just quiet and observant.

"You are brave but incredibly foolish for coming here, pequeño." one more word ran through the masked man's mind, one he tried to shove away from the very moment you stepped inside his lair, yet it still lingered. He was staring you down like a predator on a hunt, "I think you have no idea how dangerous I am, do you?"

Bane was right in one thing, you were foolish, foolish enough to come and seek help from him, "No, I do know the extent of your power, that is exactly why I am here.". You were done with being the bottom feed of the city. Even with Batman, people, both close to you and foreign, were still getting robbed, raped, and killed, and you refused to be next on the list.

So you came to the one being you thought of as not only the strongest, but the fairest, believing he had Gotham's best interest in mind, that his path was righteous, and that he would rid the city of the infection. If only you knew then how wrong you were, you would have saved yourself a lot of trouble.

"Are you now? Then tell me, what is it that you want from me?" the more he looked at you, the more he was set on keeping you, your answer had little impact on your fate. There was something about you, about your beauty, and Bane was sure it would drive him crazy if he gave you up.

"Teach me. Teach me how to fight like you, and I promise you my loyalty." you even knelt before him! That made things especially easy.

And so he took you under his wing, teaching you what he deemed worthy for you to know. You were endearing to him, and the more you two chatted, the worse it was, for both of you. What you saw at first as a way out of misery had since become something of a friend. That was how you decided to call it, friendship, completely ignoring the way he quite literally took over your life.

He never let you out of his sight. You thought it was to guarantee your safety, but Bane was simply making sure to keep you for himself. Yet an idea materialized over time. You were the perfect grey mouse, the way you crept in… you had talent, he could use that.

You would be perfect for infiltration. Sure, he would put you in harm's way, but he had trained you, and if he was there to step in whenever needed, to save the day… It would all work out, it had to.

So he started sending you out. First just to the territories of other rogues to test the waters, then he moved to dispatching you straight to the dragon dens. Bane was always close of course. He didn't trust his men to look after you, no matter how loyal to him they were, it wouldn't be enough to calm his mind. He called this upon himself and he swore he would keep you safe, convincing himself that he was the only one who could keep his abeja safe.

But you couldn't continue like that. You first seeked Bane out so that you could stay away from criminals as far as possible, but only now have you started to realize you joined forces with one. You had to draw the line somewhere, and desperate times call for desperate measures.

"Do not touch what is mine, Bat!", Bane roared out the first and only warning he was willing to give. You were hiding behind Batman, the man you lured to the Iceberg lounge as your last hope to get away from the controlling man.

For the first time in months, you were truly scared. Not only had you broken Bane's trust after swearing him your loyalty, but you also brought in the bat when his plan wasn't fully prepared.

You were quickly shown aside as the fight between the two gained intensity. You could not help but look at the brawl. The way they clashed, it was clear Bane hadn't taught you all he knew.

Batman fought hard, but Bane was fierce, furious, and even though he had his venom prepared, he didn't feel the need to use it. His wit and determination to get you back were this time enough to send Batman scurrying away in a hurry, leaving you behind and on your own.

"Stay away! I'm armed and I'm not afraid to use it!" you raised your weapon higher into the air, closer to Bane's face, only for him to laugh at you. "That's a fork, abeja." he muttered as he disarmed you effortlessly and picked you up by the back of your shirt as you stood paralyzed, watching the utensil that was now out of your reach.

Bane took his mask off with his free hand, revealing a cruel smirk on his lips, "Estás en problemas, Y/N...". His voice came out dangerously low, but there was a notable hint of patience. You momentarily locked your eyes with his green ones, the look he gave you... It wasn't only stern and authoritative, but also tender, almost soft, it was off, sickeningly so. "Care to explain yourself?"

"Not to you!" you spat in his face, all admiration you had towards him long gone. You started to wiggle and trash around to make the man lose his hold on you, only to be met with an amused chuckle.

"Eres luchadora, cariño, I always loved that about you, so smart, so ravishing.", Bane spoke out before switching his hold on you, trapping you closer to him, "There's nothing I could do but to fall in love with you.". He kept your hyperventilating form in a rock hold as he rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes "I hope you will find it in your heart to forgive me, Y/N, but I can't let you go. Ni ahora, ni nunca."

#bane x reader #bane #gender neutral reader #gn reader #anon request #reader insert #request #I love writing for this doofus. if only it didn't take so long #I'm really sorry about the butchered spanish #I wrote the fork thing first and thought how the bee is literally perfect nickname. y/n will stung once (or try to). but never again #dying inside each day as Bane keeps his darling locked #Whether or not they break and 'fall in love' with him is up to interpretations #yandere #tw yandere

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pastel0rchid · 6 months

Text

Futuristic Lover (1)

Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

Chapter One

Story Summary: It was a chance to have a family, and Miguel wouldn't waste it. No matter the cost.

A/N: I only know basic Spanish and will use an online translator. Please let me know if anything in the translation is off at any time in this chapter or in future ones!

The sound of children giggling could be heard throughout the small classroom, the group of toddlers surround the woman sitting on the carpet. A large smile was on her lips as she occasionally reached out to tickle the toddlers close to her, her laughter mixing with the toddlers'.

It was about an hour before the daycare closed, and keeping the toddlers busy before their parents picked them up was a bit of work.

But to (Y/n), it was all worth it. Seeing their smiles and hearing their laughter was the best part of her day.

One by one the parents came to pick up their child, leaving (y/n) with one last toddler and 30 minutes left before closing. With the little boy sitting on her hip, she begins to clean as best as she can with one hand.

She sings a small tune as she cleans, smiling as the young boy occasionally tunes in with his babbling.

As the clock ticks closer to 6 O'clock, one by one (y/n)'s coworkers peek in to say their goodbyes. The young boy still perched on her hip as she finished cleaning the room, leaving 10 minutes left until closing.

A small sigh leaves her lips as she realizes the little boy would most likely be here till 6. She sets him down to grab both of their things, gently grabbing his much smaller hand before leading them out of the classroom, flicking off the switch as they head towards the front office.

"Come on, George. Let's wait up front for mommy."

(Y/n)'s voice was soft as she slowly walked with the boy, her body bent slightly in half to keep a hold of his hand. They were the last two in this building, she noticed as they passed by the other classrooms.

This schedule was normal for little George, his mom always picked him up right at 6. Yes, it was a little annoying, and a bit hard to clean with a one-year-old, but (y/n) liked having the little one-on-one time with him.

Once the two made it to the front, (y/n) noticed a strange man waiting by the front desk.

His eyes seemed wide, flicking from one side of the room to the next like he was looking for someone. His hands fidgeted in front of him and occasionally reached into his hoodie pocket to mess with whatever was inside.

A frown reaches (y/n)'s lips at the sight, alarm bells ringing in her mind as she bends down to pick up George.

She protects the boy against her chest as she walks behind the desk, keeping her gaze on the suspicious male.

“Can I help you, sir?”

The man’s head snaps in her direction, seeming shocked at her sudden words and presence. (Y/n) watches as the man shakily removes his hand from the pocket of his hoodie, a small device in his hands with a button right under his thumb.

A second was all (y/n) was granted to duck behind the desk, curling her body around George, before a loud explosion went off.

Her body was blown back by the force, slamming against the wall behind her. A choked cry leaves her lips at the pain erupting up her back, her arms stayed secure around the boy in her arms, his cries piercing over the ringing in her ears.

(Y/n) slumps down into a sitting position, George close to her chest. The smoke from the debris clouds around them, a few pieces stuck in her arms and legs.

A small whimper leaves her lips at the pain she felt, both from the stabbing of the debris and the ache of her back. She could feel the warmth of her blood oozing from her cuts and some down her neck from where her head hit the wall.

She slowly checks over George, other than a few scratches, she takes the brunt of the damage. A breath of relief leaves her at the realization.

George continues his crying, gripping tightly onto (y/n)’s shirt. The poor boy was covered in a fine powder from the debris, his tear marks cutting through the powder on his cheeks.

“It’s alright, sweet boy.”

The words were strained as (y/n) tried to comfort the frightened toddler.

(E/c) eyes snap towards a thump nearby, landing on a figure towering over them. Her heart begins to beat harshly against her chest at the fear that washes over her.

Another attacker?

Another villain?

The figure was coated in a blue and red suit, his face covered by a mask of the same colors. He was tall, much taller than anyone she knew, his shoulders and muscles defined underneath the tightness of the suit.

His hand reaches out for the pair, stopping at how (y/n) flinches away from him, shifting her body to cover George as much as she could. Her eyes held fear, exhaustion hidden just behind it.

The man squats beside the two, trying to calm them by getting on their level.

“Ay, Dios. It’s gonna be alright, mi cielito.”

(Y/n) keeps her eyes on the male, unknowing of the words spoken in his native tongue, as he carefully picks her up, leaving George lying against her.

Nothing is spoken between the two as he carries them out of the rubble, heading towards the already large crowd. (Y/n) quickly recognized George’s tear-stricken mother, who pushed past police to run to her now sniffling son.

Everything after was a blur; George was taken by his mother to the ambulance, who couldn’t stop her endless thanks to (y/n), and the man who had found her carried her over to another ambulance.

They bandaged her wounds, and checked her head wound that still oozed blood, before strapping her in to take her to the hospital. Once the ambulance doors had closed, the man was out of her sight.

It was only when she was lying in a hospital bed, bandages all over her, that somebody carried in a small bouquet of red roses. Looking at the card, her eyebrows raise slightly at the message.

‘To Cielito.

From Spider-Man’

#reader insert #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction

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xmalereader · 1 year

Text

Jake Lockley x Male Reader

|| Masterlist || Sugar Daddy AU ||

Authors Note: I have been a bit busy latently with some personal matters but I should be able to get that done sometimes tomorrow and be back to writing and updating again! But, I couldn’t help but write this really quick, another shot of the sugar daddy AU series of Steven Grant, Reader had met Marc now it’s time for Jake to make an appearance!

Summary: Reader meets Jake and shows him his work as the avatar of Anubis along with revealing further secrets and starting a new friendship.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, mentions of suicide, language, Anubis and khonshu, mention of death, Reader is an avatar, Jake make an appearance, secrets revealed, part of the sugar daddy series, small shot, fake names. Spanish words: Lo haré = I will, Hasta la próxima = until next time. Slight mentions of abuse, violence, knives, blood, tears.

Word count: 2.7k

London was a quiet place at night, not much was going around. Perhaps a drunk human here and there and some ruckus around some neighborhoods, but nothing too out of the ordinary. The nights were the only times that Y/n is able to do complete his futures as Anubis avatar, collecting souls and guiding them to their judgment. It had always been his job, accepting his role and duty when he agreed to be Anubis’ avatar who’d help with completing the work faster.

He didn’t think he’d be doing something like this in his future and he wasn’t complain, it did have its perks here and there but they were part of life at this point. Y/n had adjusted to his duties that it felt odd to have such a quiet night, checking his watch every five minutes in hopes of getting a sign of a new soul needing to be guided but nothing ever showed up.

He sits on the edge of a building, legs hanging off the edge as he watched the night sky, disappointed that he isn’t able to see the stars. How he wished he could. Before he could move or call it a night he hears movement behind him, ears perking up as he looks over his shoulder to see Knight from a few months back standing behind him. He kept his distance as he watched him carefully with glowing white eyes.

“Arius.” His voice is gruff a hint of an accent as Y/n smiles under his own mask. “Mr. Knight.” He says back, focusing his attention to the empty streets below. “Didn’t think you’d be here tonight.” He adds.

“I can say the same.” Said Y/n.

The two are silent as Jake takes a seat next to him, the two sitting in silence as they take in the view and enjoy the cool weather. It was Jake who breaks the silence first and asks. “Are you done for the night?”

Y/n hums, checking his watch once again. “Not yet, haven’t gotten anything from here.” He mumbled, sighing deeply as he slips his hand inside his pocket, gloved finger tracing over the watch that his in his pocket. “Perhaps it’s best that I move around, I’ll probably get something.” He adds, getting the others attention and comes to a stand. He stretched his arms out and smiled. “Do you wish to join me?” He offers.

He hadn’t known Knight and had only met him a few times whenever he’d out at night doing his own job. He’d stumble upon his crimes but wouldn’t interfere, only arriving whenever he’d to collect a soul and then continue on. His little appearances have gotten knights attention and would follow him around, losing him sometimes and not seeing him again until the next night they had together. The two had found ways to converse with each other without thinning that they’d break into a fight or cause trouble in their own duties.

Jake had stared up at the man who stood on the edge of the roof, black suit near with no wrinkles, his mask covering his face with golden streaks on the ears and around the eyes. Jake wasn’t one to join anyone but he’d grown curious of Arius‘s duties and accepted his invitation. The two walking side by side in the dark streets of London, cold wind brushing against their clothes and skin. It was strange for Jake to be walking the empty streets like a normal human being, he’s used to taking the high ground but for tonight he can allow it.

Their silent walk together is broken when Y/n slips the pocket watch out of his pocket to see it giving a soft glow, letting him know that a soul is close. He smiles to himself and continued forward. “Come along, looks like the first one for tonight decided to finally show up.” He announced to the man who stood to his left, taking different turns as he reached his destination at the entrance of an alleyway where he finds a young women lying on the ground, bruised and beaten and bleeding to death. Y/n sighs sadly, moving carefully towards the women who was having trouble breathing until her eyes turn to him, gasping as her weak eyes widen in fear.

“It’s alright,” he whispered to her, his back to Jack as his mask disappeared, revealing his face to the women as he offers her a kind smile. “I know…” he adds, taking her hand into his own. “You’ll be somewhere safe soon.” The trembling women takes in his words, holding onto his hand as he gently helps her up to her feet, masking covering his face again as the women holds onto his shoulders, suddenly feeling lighter. Her pain had gone away and was no longer bleeding. “What—?”

“Like I said, you’re safe now.” Y/n held her hand. “Come on,” he guides her forward. Jake watching from a distance as Anubis appears when his name is called, claiming the women’s soul and guiding her to the next step in the afterlife. When Anubis disappeared with the soul in hand, Y/n had returned to the women’s lifeless body. He’s gentle at closing her eyes and covering her up, sighing softly as he comes to stand again. “Let’s go.”

Jake raises a brow. “Are we not going to do anything with the body?” He questions. “Best not to move it, someone will find her and her body will be reported and her family will know of her death.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I only collect the souls and the rest is with humanity.” He adds, watching as the other glanced down at the women’s body one more time before following after Y/n. Jake had always been around death, causing it and watching it happen but he’s never seen something like this before. It felt more intimate and private in some way that he couldn’t describe.

“Why do you do it?” Jake finally asks, the two walking forward with Y/n keeping his hands behind his back. “I have a job to do.” Y/n responds back with a slight shrug. “I mean—I’m not always there for them but I do my job and collect the souls that are to be guided to the afterlife. To be judged and to find peace.” He explains. “I’ve accepted my role as Anubis’ avatar and agreed to collecting.”

Jake hums, following him. “I’ve never heard of a god who held an avatar for such a long period. Most avatars only last for a few years but I heard rumors that you’ve been around the longest while other gods can easily replace them.”

Y/n stops in his tracks, stopping Jake in his own steps and turning around to face him. “It was fine in the beginning.” He said, frowning to himself a little as he thinks about the first few times he started collecting, watching people grieve for their loved ones and watching their death. “But, it became harder.” He admits. He thought his duty would be easy but didn’t expect himself to see so much death in such a short period of time and as Anubis’ avatar it was his duty to collect the lost souls. He’d looked over Knights shoulder to see both Khonshu and Anubis standing near a building, the two gods watching over their avatars.

“I’ve thought about giving up.” His words bring shock to the god of death, first time hearing about this after years of being his avatar. Y/n avoids the gods stare, ashamed of how he must feel knowing the truth of his avatars feelings. Y/n focused back on his task and walks down a path, arriving at a nice warm neighborhood with porch lights turned on and hints of laughter being heard behind closed doors and windows. Even though it was late, families were still up and thriving at such late hours.

Y/n could feel Anubis eyes staring at him from a distance, wanting a further explanation as to why he ever thought about leaving and giving up his role as avatar. The god of death wanted answers but could not force them out of his own avatar. It wasn’t until Jake asked the important question.

“Why didn’t you?”

Y/n sighs through his nose, hands behind his back and fingers intertwined. “This was a long time ago, when I first it started.” He began to explain, giving Jake a glance here and there but focusing on anything else that he can find. “The first few times I collected souls I saw the fear in their eyes, afraid of dying and afraid of being left alone. You could say that I grew tired of seeing them so helpless and begging to live when their time was clearly up.” His fingers twitched, uncurling his fingers and slipping them inside his pockets. “I avoided my job a few times, making excuses to Anubis and letting him know that I’d continue on later…even though I didn’t.” He felt guilty lying to the god, afraid that he’d find out about his falling out. He didn’t tell Anubis about any of this until he decided to make changes about his duties and collecting, taking matters into his own hands.

“I had a friend, Keith.” Y/n stopped in his steps, back facing Jake as he whispered his next words. “He was the closest thing I had to a family, always followed me everywhere and causing trouble. We’d travel to Egypt and explore new findings.” His voice is filled with compassion and with a hint of grief as his eyes are filled with sorrow. “Then he died—well, he ended his own life.”

Jake is frozen by his last words, unknown to him that the other avatar had lost someone so important and precious to them just how Marc lost his own little brother, blaming himself for his death even though he was only a child. Marc couldn’t do anything to save his own brother and received abuse from his own mother who’d treated him horribly.

“I found him under a bridge, his soul was next on the list and I had no idea what I was stepping into.” Y/n’s voice quivers, remembering that day clearly when he arrived under that bridge to find his friend lying lifelessly. “When I came to collect him, I expected him to be afraid to possibly beg to continue living.” He slowly shakes his head, chuckling sorrowfully. “Instead he looked at me without fear and smiled—not a cheerful one but a smile that meant that he understood his decision and that he couldn’t turn back time to fix it. So, he accepted his fate.”

Y/n clears his throat, feeling the watch in his pocket grow warm as a new soul is preparing to move on. He walks down the neighborhood, blending into the darkness as he continued on. “I wanted to resign my position as Anubis avatar that night, but before I could think about doing it I remembered what my friend told me before Anubis took him. He said to me, ‘I guess death really is like a warm hug’.” He chuckled at his final words, walking up a street and approaching a large house, the lights are turned on, shining through a few rooms.

Jake stood next to him, staring at the house ahead of them as they stood outside in the dark. “After that I knew I couldn’t give this up—I don’t just collect souls I also help them. People may fear death but in the end they just need someone to be there for them. To have one last touch of humanity before being taken to the reeds.”

Y/n holds the pocket watch in the palm of his hands, sighing deeply to himself when he found out who the next soul was. “Stay here.” He whispered to Jake, not wanting him to be there for his last soul collecting of the night. “Can’t come for this?” Jake questions, eyeing him in curiosity while Y/n sighs to himself. “Not this one.”

The other avatar gives Jake a small pat on the shoulder, stepping forward as he walks down the path, entering the families home and closing the door behind him as the mask disappears from his face. Jake is left behind, standing outside the home as he waits patiently for the other to return, not knowing why he wasn’t allowed to come inside with him. He expected to hear some shouting or perhaps yelling due to the family seeing a stranger inside their home but nothing came, only sounds of laughter and joy until the front door opens again, watching as the avatar steps out of the house with their head low.

Jake takes a small step forward only to freeze in his steps, eyes widening when he takes in the avatars unmasked face, taking in the familiar man that Steven and Marc have grown to care and love. He didn’t think that he’d be an avatar, far too busy with his business and becoming a successful man and also finding time to have a stable relationship with Steven. Jake didn’t want to believe that Y/n was an avatar but his role under Anubis work seemed to fit him well. Like he said, every soul he collected needs someone there during their last moments and he was that one person who has a heart, big enough to be there for strangers who didn’t know him.

Y/n approached him, giving the house one last look before turning to Jake. “Let’s go.” He announced, walking away from the house as Jake gives it a glance and follows after Y/n.

“Why show me your face?” Jake suddenly asks.

“Because I know you won’t come after me, I have nothing to hide and you probably already know who I am and know that I’d never hurt anyone.” Y/n’s suit began to disappearing, bringing back is usually casual clothes as he stands in front of Jake like a normal citizen. “I’d never hurt the two people you care for.”

Jakes eyes widen. “How did you—?”

“I can sense three souls, two I know but the third is new.” His voice is soft, smiling a little. “I didn’t say anything to them if your wondering, I want them to tell me when their ready on their terms.”

Jake knew that he could hide forever and that eventually Marc and Steven will know about his whereabouts, they’ve grown suspicious of a third but never questioned further on it. Instead y/n was the first to figure him out, telling them apart and knowing that Jake was someone new to his presence. The third alter sighs in defeat, allowing his own suit to disappear, revealing his identity to him.

“There he is.” Y/n’s voice is in awe, smiling fondly at Jake who gives off a small glare in return. “You can’t let them know.”

“I won’t, like I said, when you are ready and under your terms.” Y/n kept to his promise, never wanting to push the man into doing something he did not like. “As long as you don’t tell them about my nightly duties.” He questions back, raising a brow.

Jake grins. “Until you are ready.” Using his own words against him.

Y/n laughs, slipping his hands in his coat pockets, breathing in the freshly night air before sighing through his nose. “Keep them safe, please?” He refers to Steven and Marc, even though he’s only known Marc for a short period of time he carried deeply for him too. Y/n also loved Steven and couldn’t bare to see him get hurt in anyway.

“Lo haré.” Jake says, giving him a firm nod.

“Good night—“

“Jake.”

Y/n smiles. “Goodnight, Jake. Sleep well.” He gives Jake a small nod before turning around and walking off with Anubis following close behind him as Jake watched him disappear into the night. Jake knew little about Y/n and his relationship with Steven but knew him well enough as Arius to know that he’d never bring harm to Steven and Marc. He’d remained loyal to the two and always showing them the kindness that they’ve never received growing up.

“Hasta la próxima, Arius.”

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