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#been too busy and sleepy to draw lately
mikufanclub · 1 month
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some reis
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imreaallyasorry · 1 month
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Late night doodle….
#art#digital art#character design#if you guys were wondering why I don’t yap as much or get on tumblr as much anymore it’s because I only get on super late at night#I’m busy with school and my naps#mutual’s if I reblog your posts with no tags it’s not because I don’t have anything to say it’s because I’m too sleepy to type it out#I’m gonna get back into posting my Loki and Thor art#I don’t wanna post any because it’s just all incomprehensible Thor doodles#I’ll probably render a few and then add Loki there too#or just do a bunch of solo Loki drawings because I love drawing her#my favorite character is Thor!!! proceeds to never draw him#I’ll probably hunt down some of my mutuals ocs and draw them when I have time#I actually don’t have a lot of mutuals with like public ocs#they draw their favorite character#soooooo I’ll have to draw their design of that character#sighhh#it’s so late guys#(it’s like 9 pm)#I usually go to bed at 8#though I’ve been staying up later for some reason???#don’t know why but I don’t mind the extra time#still not waking up any earlier though#I should stop waking up 20 minutes before I have to go places…#my bed is so comfy!!!#sighhhhhhhh sometimes self care is doing the hard things#(is kicking and screaming clawing at my mattress)#((I have to go walk my dog))#unemployed activities#I’m gonna get a job in summer because I am not working on TOP of school#I’m sorry my art commissions I do once every 2 months drain me enough
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moonlitkilljoy · 2 years
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i really do like the idea that billy helps pete do his nails/does his nails for him, but it is important to take into account the fact we see him with his nails done in The Invisible Hand of Fate. so, my personal headcanon is that he used to go to a salon to get them done (back when he was still on quizboys) but stopped being able to afford it (in both the time and money sense) after he and billy left. that or he started trying to be more conscious about spending, and billy offered to do his nails for him as a way to cut down costs (though they definitely both know it’s just an excuse, especially when they don’t stop doing it after they move into rose’s home, dedicating an afternoon every once in a while to getting pete’s nails done). that being said, i don’t think pete actually cares about saving money, so it could also be that making the trip to a nail salon became way too much of a hassle. they (seemingly) live in the middle of a desert, there no way there’s a salon any closer than a 40 minute drive. OR maybe he’s just always done them himself, but when he and billy started living together billy started doing them for him because it just seemed like the logical thing to do. it’s harder to do your own nails than it is for someone else to do them, especially if you’re trying not to mess up one hand while doing the other. plus, they 100% enjoy the time spent on it- they put on a show in the background but usually just end up talking over it the entire time. with billy’s prosthetic hand, he’s a lot more precise than pete could ever conceivably be
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yanderenightmare · 2 months
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TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse/hybrid au, size difference, pet-play, predator x prey, collaring, drugging
fem reader
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Thinking about a human collector who decides he wants a new pet to add to his collection...
The air of the animal shelter is polluted by whimpers, howls, and growling as he parades past all sorts of rareties locked up in their cages – all for him to pick and choose from. 
The warden is telling him about the new swan hybrid they wrangled a week ago, wings like an angel with the grace of royalty, a true prize jewel of any collection. 
He thinks it sounds promising before strolling past you.
Placed in one of the smaller cages on the floor, seemingly tucked away so as not to catch anyone’s attention. 
You’re a sorry sight to behold – all starved and shaking – the collar around your throat too heavy for you to lift your head, having to look up at him through your lashes as he crouches down in front of you.
Your eyes are wide like two moons as he sticks a finger in through the bars.
It’s thick like a carrot, and for a moment, you seem like you’re about to scurry away into the very back of your cage – but instead, you inch closer, sniffing at the digit before suddenly snapping at him.
He backs away with a hiss, drawing the warden's attention – who rushes back and knocks his cain against the cage with a growl in his throat, “Stupid critter.” 
You’ve narrowed your eyes, nose wrinkled in anger – something akin to a snarl forming your lips. It’s a funny expression to see on such a normally docile breed.
“I’m really sorry, sir. Bunnies aren't usually aggressive, but we’ve had issues disciplining this one for weeks.” The warden rushes out the apologetic excuse, expecting to be sued.
But the collector only chuckles – a deep sound that makes your soft fur stiffen. “That’s fine.” 
He pulls a handkerchief from his back pocket, all movements calm and collected as he wipes the spill of blood trickling from the small bite mark you’d left on his finger.
“It’s only a nibble, after all.” 
You spit the bitter taste left in your tongue out on his shoes with another sneer.
If it angers him, it still doesn’t show through the lofty smile he wears. His leer is just as poised and heavy as he looks down at you.
“Does she talk?”
The warden had turned to lead him towards the more desirable and tamed section but halted at the question.
He had a puzzled look on his face before he answered, almost in a question himself, “We don’t know.”
The collector scoffed out another small laugh, then pulled out his phone. “How much?”
The warden seemed appalled then. “Sir, we have exotic pets more up to your standard in the back. Are you sure-”
“I want this one.”
The warden looked snuffed at his firm tone. But straightened himself out after a moment. All business as usual. “We can’t guarantee she’ll behave. It could be dangerous-”
But he’s cut off yet again, this time with another rumbling chuckle.
“That won’t be an issue.”
And those dark eyes with that deeply dominating look within them were the last thing you remember seeing before becoming a sleepy heap on the floor of your cage – drooling with a blank stare as you’re carried to the trunk and driven off with.
The tranquilizer makes you fall asleep, waking to heat swallowing you as you’re lowered into a bathtub.
“Let’s get you groomed first.” The same man murmurs in a coo. Petting your head with a heavy hand when seeing your weary eyes try blinking off the sleep – but still left too drowsy to thrash.
Instead, you can just moan as he washes you with a tender smile on his face – his big hands coarse against your creamy skin, rubbing your plush limbs with soap and oil.
“My pets have been an awful handful lately…”
He’s talking about something, but you only catch bits and pieces of the words being said. Something about ruts and scratched furniture – someone’s been pissing in the sofa, and all the pillows are ruined.
He messages the lops of your ears, then rinses them gently.
“But it’s my fault. I’ve been neglectful.”
He cups your tits next, lathering them with the warm milky water, circling your nipples with the gritty pads of his thumbs until they perk.  
Then he delves under the water to find your puffy cunt, letting the hot water rush the sensitivity, making it swell with heat as he splits the lips and pets your clit. 
You buck your hips, and he awes with a light chuckle, crooning down at you. “It's okay, little bunny.”
His carrot-sized finger teases your hole before sinking inside you, filling you in slow and tentative pumps. Sitting next to the tub, just as composed as before, while your cunt squeezes his knuckles.
He hums, watching your body fight the tranquilizer as you seize up and ripple with release.
He retracts his hand, patting them both on the fluffy towel placed next to him. A content smile on his face. “You’re gonna do perfect.”
After he’s finished drying you, he fixes a collar around your throat and carries you out to the others.
“Gather ‘round, pets.” He announces, placing you down on the soft carpeted floors beneath.
Your limbs are still heavy, too weak to stand just yet. But that all changes with the adrenaline kick.
“Come say hi to your new rut-puppet.”
The stench in the air coats your skin with sweat.
“She’s a fragile thing, though, so make sure to play nice.”
Your big eyes skitter around. 
On your left, there’s a wolf, fox, and hyena who all lick their teeth at the sight of you.
Next to them lies a bear that wakens from his slumber. He licks his snout with a huff.
Drool drips from the hang in their lips as they start panting. 
And they aren't the only ones.
On your right, there’s a panther and leopard whose eyes all blackout into nothing but a deep pool of darkness.
Their tails slowly meander behind them as they arise from their beds to stalk you.
You whimper, backing up until your back hits the legs of your new owner.
You lift your head to look up at him, only to see him smiling down at you.
“Don’t be shy now. The smell of fear only makes them wilder.”
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part 2
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silv3rswirls · 3 months
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soft moments with seventeen
Note: Happy Valentine's day everyone <3
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♡Seungcheol♡
When you’re running late for work in the morning, darting around the apartment frantically trying to get yourself together. Seungcheol watches, holding your lunch and waiting by the door so you don’t forget it. You finally get to the door, stuffing your shoes on in a hurry, your coat hanging off one shoulder and your bag’s strap twisted and bunched up. He stops you, very calmly telling you to take a moment and breath before leaving. You do, and he takes your bag from you. He straightens up your coat, buttons it up for you, and loops your scarf around your neck. It’s freezing out, part of the reason you’re late as you couldn’t drag yourself out of bed. Carefully he puts your bag back on and pauses to sweep your hair wispies from your face. Seungcheol presses a quick kiss on your forehead, and the two of you share a smile before you leave.
♡Jeonghan♡
It's early, way too early for you to even consider dragging yourself out of bed, but Jeonghan was wide awake and in the process of getting ready to leave for an early schedule. You’re still cuddled in bed, having wrapped all the blankets tight around your body now that Jeonghan is gone. You can hear him walking around, the water in the bathroom running, his alarm going off for a third time and him rushing to silence it for you. You were dead tired, hardly able to open your eyes but for some reason, you could never fall asleep until Jeonghan left. The bed dips beside you, and his arms trap you in place despite knowing you are too sleepy to try and playfully getaway. You hear him softly saying his goodbyes, turning your head and pinching your cheeks until you open your eyes and smile. He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and leaves a few rushed ones against your face before leaving.
♡Joshua♡
You’re pressed against him in the back of the car. Your head resting on his shoulder and your bottom lip trembling as you try to hold your tears in until you get home. But you still had fifteen minutes and traffic was getting worse; your throat was burning and your eyes overflowing with warm tears. You feel Joshua press his fingers into your hair, brushing through it, down to rub your back and press you closer. He was silently encouraging you to cry after the long, hard day you had gone through. You didn’t want to, but couldn’t help it as you sniffled and let the tears fall. He stays quiet, not wanting to draw the driver's attention anymore to you. He doesn’t need to say anything though, you feel comforted as he rubs your back and drags his thumb over your cheek to wipe the tears away.
♡Jun♡
You were so tired, so worn out from working that day. Your boyfriend had greeted you with your favorite takeout when you got home and afterward had drawn a bath for you. You were enjoying the hot water, your tense muscles trying to relax as you recounted all the things that went wrong at work to Jun, who listened quietly. He hums in response, his fingers working in your shampoo as he washed your hair for you. He had offered, quick to attend to your hair the moment you let him. His hands scratch and massage your scalp, dropping down to massage your shoulders now and again. You lean into his touch, smiling and thanking him for being extra sweet. He grins and tells you he’d do it every night if you wanted.
♡Hoshi♡
If there’s one thing Soonyoung does on a daily basis; it's cling to you. He can’t help it, he just wants to be close to you, touching you in some way. He isn’t even aware of it most times. Grabbing your hand absentmindedly while shopping, resting against you while in the car or at home relaxing. Wrapping his arms around your waist and following you around the kitchen. He comes home one evening, tired and a bit blue over how busy he had been this week. He hardly got to see you. You were lounging on the sofa, tapping and scrolling away on your phone when he came in, he kicked his shoes off and came trudging in. He greets you tiredly, immediately crawling onto the sofa, laying on top of you, and resting his head on your chest. Neither of you says much, he closes his eyes and listens to you breathe, and ask about his day. His arms lock around you and his nestles closer, neither of you will be getting up anytime soon.
♡Wonwoo♡
Wonwoo huffs and turns the tv off, finally dragging himself out of his gaming session for the night. He looks around, the room almost eerily quiet now that he logged off. He looks around, spotting you on the sofa behind him, hair wet and wrapped in a blanket as you absentmindedly brushed it, your mind wandering. He moves to sit next to you, tilting his head and reaching to brush the hair from your face. It draws you out of your daydream, leaving a smile on your face as he runs his fingers through your wet locks. “Let me” he gently takes the brush, adjusting his sitting position to be more comfortable as he focuses on the cluster of tangles in your hair. He apologizes quietly every time he pulls too hard, but you don’t mind. You lean into him, enjoying the feeling as he tenderly brushes your hair; leaving you with a kiss on top of your head when he’s finished.
♡Woozi♡
It had been a rough few weeks for the both of you. He’d been busier than usual at the studio; if that was even possible. While you both understood the demands of his job, it seemed lately it was taking a heavier toll on you. But today, by some delightful little miracle, you had gotten to take the day off at the last minute and Jihoon had just finished the biggest chunk of his work. You come by the studio, lunch made just for him in hand as you enter. You squeeze him in a hug and share the food. You laugh, sitting with him on the sofa and picking at your lunch; more interested in listening and watching Jihoon than eating. He has a little something for you, something he had caught you eyeing at the mall about a month ago but wouldn’t buy for yourself. He had saved a note of it in his phone and thought now would be a good time to surprise you with it. He's all smiles watching you open it, the food forgotten as you once again dive back into lighthearted conversation.
♡Dokyeom♡
You both have a day off, and Seokmin plans to make the most of it. He spends extra time in bed that morning, trapping you in his arms and taking his time waking up and cuddling you. You make breakfast together, he sits next to you and feeds you little bites of his food as you eat. He can’t help it, he wants to be by your side all day. Do everything together, even the mundane chores and running errands. At the end of the night, he’s a bit sad at the thought of having to go back to work tomorrow. He’s in bed with you, sulking but still wasting no time in pulling you in for some affection. Your voices mesh together as you giggle and promise you’ll still have plenty of time for each other despite your schedules. He nods, still pouty and really hamming it for more affection from you, you oblige of course, until his lulling to sleep under your touch.
♡Mingyu♡
Mingyu’s arms are locked around your waist, his head pressed into the crook of your neck. You're stuck sitting on the edge of the bed, he’s hugging you and about to fall asleep against your shoulder again. He doesn’t want you to leave, he’s begging you to call off work and just stay in bed with him all day. You try to wiggle free, but he hangs on tight and pulls you back onto the bed with him. You topple over, a mess of limbs as he rolls over with you and traps you once again. You have to leave soon, but he’s so convincing with how he nuzzles into your neck and murmurs for you to stay with him. 
♡Minghao♡
You weren’t even sure how Minghao and you had gotten here. He was holding your hand, massaging lotion into your skin gently. The hair dryer he had been using was left forgotten on the counter. He’s focused on you, rubbing up your arm before moving to the other hand. You bite back little laughs, his fingers tickling your palm as he gets back to massaging. He’s about to keep pampering you, but you stop him to finish drying his hair. He plots how he’s going to get back to focusing on you as you comb through his hair and dry it, carefully brushing and parting it the way he wants as he closes his eyes and takes in the sensations. When you finish he lets his head drop against your chest, leaning into you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press kisses against his cheek. 
♡Seungkwan♡
It's early, and your bedroom is a bit chilly as you whine for Seungkwan to get up and turn the heat up. He’s been awake longer already, relaxing in bed as you toss and turn, snuggling into him and snoozing the morning away. He complains and tells you to do it yourself a few times before giving in and turning it up for you. He comes back with another blanket, tucking you back in and letting you sleep in as he starts to get ready for the day. It's his day off, neither of you has anything to do. Normally he’d be pushing you out of bed by now, but your night had been long and emotional. You’d been up late crying, letting emotions spill over after bottling them up for so long. After he was done, Seungkawn came back to sit beside you. He watches you sleep, brushes your hair away, and makes sure you're nice and warm.
♡Vernon♡
He’s dead asleep despite it being midday. The curtains are open, the sun beaming in as you get home. You smile at the sight, he’s dead asleep, unaware of the world around him as he only shifts slightly when you hop onto the bed next to him. You decided to join him, pressed into his side and throwing an arm over his stomach. Later that evening, as he wakes up he finds you twisted uncomfortably in the covers, shifting with him as he sits up and tries to fix the blankets for you. He’s quiet, focused on you as he settles back down to go back to bed, opening his arms and letting you cuddle up to him this time. Neither of you had spoken a word to each other the rest of the night, simply content to lazy around and waste the night away cuddling and sleeping.
♡Dino♡
His nose scrunches when you drop the terrible news on him; at least, hearing that you haven’t eaten all day is among some of the worst news he could hear. He’s scolding you, pulling you towards the kitchen, and making you sit at the counter and wait for him to prepare something for you. He sits with you, not eating as he’s already had dinner with the boys before leaving the company. He’s taking the chopsticks from you every chance he gets, feeding you himself until he’s satisfied. All evening he’s coming back with snacks for you to share, always checking on you to make sure you’re feeling okay, want something else or some water. 
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honestsycrets · 9 months
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exclusive | [miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader]
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❛ pairing | fuck buddies: miguel o'hara x reader, hobie brown x reader (background pairing)
❛ type | one-shot, explicit
❛ summary | miguel learns his fuck buddy is fucking Hobie and feels some type of way about it.
❛ tags | heavy jealousy, somnophilia, fuck buddies, multiple partners, undisclosed sexual relationship, dubious consent: aggression/revenge, sloppy seconds, f!reader, lying by omission, spanish is not translated, an attempt at MLE, break ups, eating kitty, bit angsty, older hobie in this piece, break-ups.
❛ reqs fulfilled | Hey! I saw your requests were open and I wanted to know if you'd be down with writing something about Miguel x Reader who has been whining for his cock all day, crying and trying to run from it when he finally gives it to her? & where reader loves him but he doesn't, only for him to eventually fall in love but its too late because she's moved on, or vice versa
❛ sy's notes | here's for the anon that requested i release it. hope you like it, lil buddy.
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Miguel wakes early in the morning.
Lyla usually woke him up with a Hey Miguel, Miguel, You have a meeting Miguel-- something teasing and aggravating all at once. That morning his room was so silent that he could nearly feel the heaving and dropping of a second heartbeat. His vision strains as his eyes take focus on the pitch-black room. He takes up the bulk of the bed with his large frame while the pillows are strewn over the floor. Your complaints of-- You never come to find me, you always ignore me. He quickly remembers what happened last night. Your legs were intertwined in his, scaling him like he was another bed in of himself.
"Lyla, what time is it?" he asks, massaging the crook in his neck. The world is quiet in his room. Out there, he knew there would be one problem after another. As soon as he peeled himself from the comfort of your warm embrace. Your legs intertwined in his, keeping him in the warmth of his bed, a spider's web of its own. He hates that he doesn't want to leave. Not yet, anyway. He knows he's in deep.
"About--" she pauses, "Nine o'clock?"
"¿Las nueve?" he shouts, pushing himself up on his thick forearms. "Damn it, Lyla!"
"I would've woken you up sooooner," she draws out in a long tease. "If you weren't too busy pounding your novía until three in the morning."
"She's not my girlfriend," not yet, he bit out, unpeeling your warm legs from his core. A brush more and he would have another type of problem to deal with that morning. As nice as it would have been to lay back down and wait until sleep released its tight grip on you, he had obligations.
"Yeah," she scoffs. "Okay, Miguel."
Lyla knew what he wanted. He wanted this. You-- to help make him forget the past and the future. To forget all the awful things that haunted him day to day. You could do that. He feels your sleepy eyes on him as he turns to sit up in his bed. Your heavy eyelids are cloaked with the ache for sleep. Or half-lidded in fervor for another round. He isn't sure which, yet.
"Te quiero, Miggy," he knows it isn't love you're talking about. Early in the morning, you need sex. He knows how insatiable you are even without your hands slinking around his muscular thigh, inching their way where they had no business going. He cups your hand and pushes away from his softness, knowing he has no time to spare getting worked up. Distracted. It's time to work.
"Manaña. Go back to sleep, I have things to do."
"Tomorrow? I'm not a tomorrow kinda girl, Miggy. " You're that kind of woman-- needy, achy, you need more from him. No matter how much he gave you with attentiveness and care, he could never give you enough. Your words are clear as you turn away, pouting. Miguel throws a look over his shoulder. "You're the only one who treats me like this."
There's the fit. Miguel ran his hand through his hair, shoving it out of his face as he gathers his bearings. You're slack against his back, lips curling into a pout at his suggestion that you'd simply have to wait for more attention.
"No empieces," he throws back. "I spent the night with you two nights in a row."
"To get off. Hobie's right about you. You'd never go to a show'a mine."
If there were ever an interloper in your relationship. It was, and would forever be, Hobie Brown. The displeasure on your face gently pulls at his heart. He's never been to one of your shows before. He's never even asked. It never seemed important to you until now.
He could do that.
"Where and when," his stomach roiled with something he'd distantly call anxiety. There was a truth to what Hobie said, he couldn't be a good boyfriend and take care of spider society all alone. He'd sure as hell try. If you thought Hobie was better, so be it. Miguel wrinkled his nose, concern lining his bushy eyebrows as he stood up, hands on his hips.
"Oh Miggy, that's just what I wanted. It's tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow, then."
Isn't that what he said earlier?
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"Hobie!"
It doesn’t matter where it is, your eyes always seem to find Hobie. Ideally, Miguel would like your eyes to always find him. You spent the night in his arms yesterday and the night before that. Perhaps that was why you missed the spider punk. So when he walked into the meeting early that morning and dropped like a rock on the elevated platform you sat on, he wasn’t altogether surprised that you turned around to look at Hobie.
He was, however, surprised to see your hand slink along his plaid thigh, tugging on his lax suspenders. You're late, he heard you whisper. Yeah, what you going to do about it? Hobie reached out, letting his fingertips ghost lines up your arms. Miguel barks out your name, your fingers snapping back as if a spider bit them. They might.
“Oh my days, bruv, we gonna talk about this?” Hobie ripped off his mask, dropping it lazily by your hip. You swept it up and set it on your thighs. He suckled along the roof of his mouth, pulling his lip piercing in and out with a deliberate, slow hiss. “Or you busy watching my side ting?”
"Hobie," you willed him down. Your eyes catch and hold. "Shhh."
“Mans right pussywhipped,” Hobie balked out a laugh, bouncing at that awful word. His jaw tightened at the distinct sound of Hobie’s hands slapping your shoulder. Hobie is in a mood today. He wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t being picked on. “Look at him, is he serious? You mad, man?”
Hobie!
“I’m not.”
“I like the sound of that,” he could hear you whisper into Hobie’s ear, his senses more queued into small whispers than anyone else in the room. You rolled the word along your tongue. "Pussy whipped. You next?"
It was like he wasn’t even there. As if every moment you spent together was irrelevant. The days that the tips of your fingers grazed his shoulder blades, sweeping across his tight muscles. He remembered how it felt, your careful kisses on his neck after a long day, the drag of your nails across his muscular back as you took him so well on the desk he lectured at.
“You bugging? You know that's not happening. You ovulatin' today?”
Miguel prompts your name. You sit upright, his perfect good girl, a whole other person when you weren’t around Hobie. His brow creases and lines of worry and disappointment coalesce into a look that invites you to behave. You were listening now with a blow of a kiss at him as though that would deter him from finding out.
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Miguel doesn’t like it when Hobie takes the piss out of him.
He especially doesn’t like that Hobie seems to know the intimate details about your body, like your cycle. That near the end of the month, every month, your sex drive ran wild. He thought it was a myth. None of the other women he had in his bed acted this way. You, however, were insatiable. If he didn’t know better… He flicked his fingers across amber screens, doing something he never did because he had no reason not to trust you. He skimmed your file.
Hobie was a consistent fixture in your life. Always at his damn concerts, clapping wildly at his old runway shows, drinking at the pub. You were an outlier dolled up in soft white, sparkling glitter makeup and darling strawberry blush next to a group of grungy anarchists and foul punks. On any given day, you might hold his head in your lap as your fingers coursed through his wicks. On special days, you buy new jewelry to change out the old. Every weekend, you like to sit on his lap in the pub of the week.
The others were negligible. He could excuse them. Hobie was something more. All it took was one offensive recording of sitting on Hobie’s lap in a seedy bar for his mind to turn red hot.
Despite being populated with many patrons, it didn’t stop you two from fucking in the bar after one of Hobie's loud shows. Others did the same exact shit. The ringing strumming, the shouting, fighting. It wasn't a scene he could see you at.
"Right there, papi, Hobie, there," your hips ground down, sultry moans puffing against his spiked choker while Hobie’s urged you up and down his cock, groping and slapping your ass around his dick. Your pink ballerina flats willing the movement by using the footrest to help guide your motion.
"Good, innit?" You didn't just like it, he realized, you loved it. Your huffy moans, the stares from strangers, the way Hobie commanded the scene. The bartender even threw Hobie a beer. Miguel wasn’t sure if it was Hobie's arrogance that no one was a threat or arrogance that no one would protest, but it pissed him off the same. He fucked you like it was nothing-- like fucking you in front of a host of sleazy men wasn’t a risk in and of itself.
He was too informal with you. He didn't treasure what he had. It was not the same, not like him. He heard your gentle footsteps in the lab. He shifted his weight between his feet, turning to see you hop up the platform. You fluttered your lashes angelically at him. Mi rey, you trilled. Your king. As though he hadn’t just watched you get railed by Hobie only days ago.
It was a fucking trap. A trap he was buying into, drinking you in. You looked pretty without your suit, clothed in a white, fluttery dress that barely kissed your thighs and nothing more. Like a fly to a spider web, he found himself gaping with his lips slightly apart. He brought his hand to his slight mouth, wiping away all inkling of his interest. You pout.
Miguel snapped back to his monitor. It was your scent lingering in the air, hypnotizing his dumb ass, your body eager and ready for him to pound full of his cum. Why else would you be in his lab? When you were strung out on his bed, properly bred, and leaking his cum, he was happy. He was happy with the tremors that wracked through your pathetic legs, that you were finally quiet for once in your damn--
“Oh? What's that?”
Miguel’s attention snapped to your figure, sliding along the edge of his desk, moving his hand without fear. You replaced it on your upper thigh, driving it between your legs. Horny again. His blown pupils followed the motion of your hand. He cursed his body for growing warm at the sight and smell of you. He hardening up as if his body had learned what to expect in the many days of experience fucking you. Most would have reconsidered what they were doing to him. Not you. You had no fear of men. You wanted him. Were you that insatiable?
“Hobie n' me?” you shimmied your shoulders with a knowing grin. The screen paused on a wet, sloppy kiss, Hobie's teeth nipping your lower lip. He was a biter. How had he missed his bites on your neck? Your soft, perfumed hand cradled Miguel's cheek, peppered in stubble. Your lips shifted up, tracing his sharp cheekbones. “Aw. I missed you too, Miggy. I always miss you. You're my big man.”
Yours. He might as well have been yours because you sure as damn weren't his. You led him on your little fingers with words like honey. A soothing honey that threatened to suffocate him in the weight of the words. If he listened long enough, he might fall in. Guilting him about his lack of time for you, Hobie Brown, the relationship you had, the kisses you exchanged, the sex-- the lies you omitted.
Miguel glides the clip away, bringing another to inspect. You remember it-- the day Hobie found out you fucked Miguel after a few hours of reconnaissance went south. You hadn't meant to piss him off. You only meant to take care of your needs. Needs that included sex. He was a means to an end, a brute that could fill what you needed. That much was becoming real clear, real fast.
"It go that bad? He got you in a fit," Hobie says. He can't help but notice you wringing out your suit, flinging it in your half-filled hamper by your bra, standing in nothing but a pair of soiled panties. Bruto, murmured under your breath-- a brute. He was. Hobie flickered his fingers off his guitar, a stray note irritating your hypersensitive ears. You cupped your ears in protest. "Oi, why are you airing me?"
"I'm not ignoring you. I just--" you bit the words, warm dread filling your chest with the next lie you told. You twirled your hands one over another. "I have a sore throat."
"A sore throat."
He wasn't buying that either.
"It's minor. Just a-- tú sabes, a little thing," you turned your hand over, whirling your bra drawer open with enough force to rip it out. Another growl rolled free from your lips, picking a powdery pink set and shoving it promptly back in. The drawer sat off-kilter. Hobie flipped his guitar over his shoulder and met you halfway, his hand warm on your mid back. It should have been comforting. Something in his eyes, even now, felt off. He recovered before you could answer.
"You fucked that man? Are you mad or what, wifey?"
You couldn't help feeling like you cheated on Hobie.
He stood upright, ripping himself away from your body, and brought his hand to his face to focus his thoughts. He had been fucking you for months-- and for months, he missed it. Miguel searched your eyes for a hint of shame or embarrassment. You had none, not even a lick. You were a kid in a panadería. Not only could you have Hobie, with his slender figure and exhibitionist qualities, but Miguel too-- with his big dick and need for love at the end of a long day’s work.
You played him.
His breath hitched as you turned around, shifting your hips back on his. It was enough. He had enough. His hand slammed over the rim, locking you in place against his muscular body. There was nowhere to run, even if you wanted to. You were happy to be there. Miguel wasn’t. His fingers trembled violently, forming a fist. You knew he wouldn't hit you. For all his rumble and roar, Miguel couldn't hurt you nearly as much as you could hurt him.
“You’re fucking Hobie,” he breathed into your ear.
“Mmm.”
A slight, noncommittal noise slipped out from your lips. It was not a denial, but not an agreement either. Irritation rippled across his skin with every damn swish of your round hips against his, shifting weight from one ball of your foot to the other. His body was alight with your soft body drawing trying to draw his pleasure to the surface. You were trying to distract him. Miguel wasn't about to let you.
"Answer me," he bucked his slender hips into yours, forcing you to catch yourself on the desk. You groaned. He had half the mind to fuck you right there, break in your pussy and leave you drooling over his desk. That would be easy. That was what you wanted.
"It's just sex."
“Are you dating him?”
“We don't do labels,” you said.
Miguel wracked your head back by your hair. A strangled moan slipped free from your lips, pleasure rushing to your cunt. You liked it. There were important details he had to know. Like-- if you used protection, or if you were safe when you weren't with him, or how you rid Hobie in raunchy pubs, and if you made out with Hobie until it was time to sleep. You know, important details.
“I do. I don’t share my women.”
“Yours? Fucking a woman ain’t keeping her, Miguel. You never asked me out on a date, put a ring on my finger, nada. It’s sex. Don't pretend like it's anything more."
"Is that all we are?"
"I've been fucking Hobie for months, Miguel. You want me to drop him-- for you? You don't even have time for me in the mornings."
His hand uncurled from your scalp, shoving you into the desk. He leaped off the platform, trudging somewhere, anywhere away from your body. He feared what he might do next if he kept hearing Hobie's damn name on your lips.
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He could have done it-- let you have Hobie if you wanted Hobie so badly.
But it bothered him. Of all the women he could have had, he picked you. You were the only one he let grab him, shove him into hallways, suck him off under his desk, and be thankful for the strands of cum painting your nose and cheeks. You were the only one who slept with him at night.
Did Hobie need you the same way? Did he want you the same way Miguel did-- when he was inside of you, clambering over your body like a hungry beast, making you lay there and take him as he laid his brutal thrusts into your pussy. The way he battered your cunt, filled it up with his seed. Watched you heave heavy breaths-- because you were his to fuck and fill. The prospect of filling you up with his cum while Hobie was doing the same thing… ticked him off.
You were his, a territory that Hobie had no business entering. You had none allowing him to. Hobie didn’t claim ownership of anybody or anything at any time. It went against all he stood for. Miguel was inexorable. He wasn’t so bothered about the details. So long as the result was to his satisfaction.
“She’s at home, Miguel,” Lyla squeaked.
“Alone?”
“If you mean with Hobie,” she popped over his shoulder, sitting as if on a cloud in her fluffy jacket. His eyes rolled. “Then yes, he's there.”
"Show me."
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"Nah, nah, nah, he's gassing you. How that man not know about us?"
You sat on your kitchen table, plopped with a hunk of pizza between your fingertips from the pizzeria below your house. Hobie's boots were thrown beside your mini-skirt. His chew was lazy and long. You sighed through it. You nipped the last bits of crust and grease off your fingertips.
"No sé. We never been a secret," you wiped off the rest of the grease between your thighs, ignoring the thought of your very first time with Hobie. But it was persistent, tickling the back of your mind, raging havoc on your unsettled heart.
White was your favorite shade. It was light, airy, like the sky. The sensation of falling through tufts of clouds. But it also made the consistent British rainstorms all the more irksome. The way water dribbled down your wet suit, your nipples perked as you rushed into his flat begging for something else to wear, Hobie's laughter dying out into that deep, low hum. His band shirt was ruined with the sticky stains of his cum.
"You thinking about it again?" Hobie read the way your eyes glazed over in an instant. His feet thumped onto the floor, swiveling in his chair and parting your legs. He leaned forward, his hands on either side of your tiny miniskirt. Your eyes tracked his gloved fingers peeking underneath your skirt. Not to pull down your thin panties, but caress small, consoling circles. "Yeah. You are. We just fucked. You're insatiable, wifey. You wet already? Want me again?"
"Hobie," you breathed. "What if he don't come tomorrow?"
"Then he don't," Hobie outstretched his finger, rubbing your soft chin to look up. "You don't need that wasteman."
"I got you?" you slid your fingers down to his slender palm, gliding over the tops of his knuckles. Hobie's lip pulled into a one-sided smirk, nodding to the side.
"Yeah, you got me."
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By the time Hobie left, all thoughts of Miguel were non-existent. Mostly, because Hobie fucked you into exhaustion. You were out cold, strewn among fluffy sheets that wreaked of his musk of cigarettes and the sandalwood oil Pavitr gifted him. Hobie’s scent was here, there, everywhere it shouldn’t be as Miguel slunk into your slightly parted window.
Most offensively, Hobie’s cum was dripping out of your cunt. He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. If you wanted him so badly all day, you easily replaced him with Hobie’s dick. He climbed the foot of the bed, watching your face twitch, almost trying to wake up from your sex-fueled haze.
“Mmm,” the small, ineffectual noise caused him to drift his eyes across your silky legs to your lips. There was a gentle pleasure in watching you sleep. He had seen it many times when he crept in the shadows when you were most beautiful. When you were half asleep, your hands draped among fluffy pillows. To be the first sight in the morning, and if possible, the last thing you thought of at night.
If he weren’t so angry with you, you would have been a vision for his sore eyes. His fingertips swerved up and down your inner thigh, curling around until he found your vulva, still swollen and wet from sex with Hobie. Miguel urged his thumb over your swollen clit, zig-zagging along to separate your folds.
As he suspected-- you had fucked him. Miguel urged the cum out of your system with a squeeze of your folds, rolling his fingers along the outer lips. His dilated eyes flickered up, catching a soft sigh in your chest. His fingers breached your wetness, easing the cum free from your body with small sweeps of his fingers.
“Mmm?” you breathed. His fingers slipped away, dragging your hips to his waiting mouth. Caked in the allure of sleep, your moan went without a response. Miguel’s pink tongue separated your folds, small mincing suckles coursing from your entrance to weave around your folds, deliberately avoiding your waiting clitoris.
"Who's it?" The pressure caused your lids to spread apart, lifting your hand from the lush silk pillow under your head to the top of his head. His tongue languidly coursed back down, poking at your entrance. The coziness of your sleep faded away. You dropped a hand to the top of his head to run through his thick dark brown hair, his sharp eyes flicking up to meet yours. Miguel could definitely have been a dream, but he wasn't.
“Miggy… I missed you,” you complained, reaching for the soft pink strawberry he won you once upon a time at a carnival. You had to beg, and beg, and blow his cock under his desk to get him to go. You looked so damn cute. Innocent. You were neither. “You should have come earlier--”
“To see you fuck Hobie?” he blew warm air against your cunt. Your hips shuttered against his face, thighs knocking his sharp cheekbones.
"You're still mad at me." This time, shame surely caught in your chest, a tremor of mean pleasure was minced with the pain of letting Miguel down. He knew it did. You wouldn't look him in the eye again but gripped the comforting strawberry a little harder.
“Considering you fucked him after we spoke, it’ll stay that way.” Miguel rose his hand to caress the outside folds as he worked, slurping the inner ones between his lips. You winced when his wet finger slid inside your hole. It squished obscenely, hungry and wet for his touch after such a tiresome day of longing.
“It’s-- it’s still sensitive.”
“I don’t care. You lied to me.” A brief glance at any watch would reveal that you’d barely slept at all. Miguel wouldn’t let you have rest, not if he could hold you accountable for your games with his heart and dick. His lush lips closed over your clit, flickering and sucking sloppily, drawing shocks of pleasure down your spine. You dug the heel of your palm into the sheets, struggling to slide out from under him. It was too much to wake up to after a fuck with Hobie who, from his files, apparently just loved to edge you.
"No, you don't. Come here." Miguel lurched his arm around your waist, dragging you back onto his face. Ah! Your hand shot to his forearm, battling out with his upper body strength to push him off. You couldn’t. Miguel was too strong. He was going to make you cum.
Pressure welled up in your stomach, forming a blinding burst of pleasure that threatened to let go. You knew it was coming. You knew there was nothing you could do about it but let him force another orgasm out of your cunt, twirling his fingers against your sensitive bundle of nerves. In place of a sweet, soothing orgasm, hard pleasure ripped down your spine. It nearly hurt, forced out by his flicking tongue. Your legs tremored around his head, cupping him in place until you couldn’t give him any more of your sweet love.
“Miguel, Miguel please--” Warm tears pricked your cheeks, sliding down to your jaw. He kept his eye on you. Your skin was warm, mind dizzy, wracked with his complaints. “I didn't mean to lie to you. I promise. You-- you never asked.”
“Shut up,” Miguel forced your hips off his face with a sharp shove. Your hips bounced on the bed, a broken cry slipping from your lips at his abuse. He came for one thing, one thing only, and fuck more foreplay. Somedays he had the temperament for it. Today, with your daring admission that you had been fucking Hobie, he had none. "I don't want more pretty lies."
"They aren't lies," you bit out, scrambling underneath him, legs tightening shut. You just needed a moment to explain-- and if holding sex back would do it, you'd try. Miguel pulled himself free of his suit and pulled you back into place. Overstimulated tears pricked your eyes, "Miggy please-- Not yet--"
He looked down at you, eyes unfeeling, unreceptive to your pleas. His cock bobbed over the top of your vulva, thick and hard, dribbling with anticipation to replace Hobie’s cum with his. You bit hard on your lower lip, sucking your tongue over the loose cuts. “If you would have asked--”
“Since you’re so insatiable, you’re going to take this dick next,” Miguel gave a few lax jerks at the base, lining up his cock with your tense entrance. He felt you clench your walls, some piteous attempt to keep him out, to allow you to explain.
“I'm still sensitive, Miggy, please. Slow down, you're too big--”
“Think about this next time you fuck that punk.”
Despite your protests, Miguel pushed the head of his cock into your entrance. A moan wracked free from your lips. He knew it was your favorite part, the way he split you wide on his cock, pulling your walls apart. He bottomed out balls deep in your cunt, finally looking so full-- so full of Miguel after a long, arduous day of teasing him for just this. Your hand came to your stomach, buried so deep you swore you could feel him in your guts. Your lashes fluttered, recognizing that this Miguel-- this Miguel wasn’t the man you knew. Not the one who was cold out there, patient in your bedroom. Something snapped. You cracked him.
“¡Ay!” you exclaimed, then clamped your mouth shut. He wasn't going to accept any complaints. Miguel’s hands clasped over your lower ribs, the slide of tears down your soft cheeks biting your skin raw. “Miggy, Miggy.”
“After all that teasing today, you can’t take my dick?”
“You’re too-- you’re too thick.”
“Tragedy, you’ll have to take me anyway,” he mocked, sliding his forearm underneath your head to keep you stable. Your skin prickled, wanting to believe the closeness he forced was as much for you as him. Your hands came to his chest, bundling up his suit between your fingertips. You needed something to anchor to. Your legs bobbed around his hips as he drew his smooth thrusts into you. Long, punctuated sweeps of his cock filled the deepest parts of your body over and over, stretching your sweet cunt full of him. “What? Am I not enough?”
“No, you are! I just, I love him--” your legs pathetically clung to his hips, trying to force Miguel’s full, sweeping thrusts to slow. Between the two men, you would be sore the next morning. Love him-- the words earned an intensity of his thrusts that you could only try to slow down by squeezing your walls around him. All this time he thought it was him, his inability to bend to your every need when you wanted it done. Your whines drifted off, melding into sweet, gentle moans of approval with every deep swipe of his hips knocking into your cervix. Wet, sloppy kisses marked your neck-- and if you weren't mistaken, the soft tickle of his own tears. The sensation of his liquid need, the hiss of his breath, bounced against your neck. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re going to be.” His other hand jammed between your legs, flicking at your already pulsing clit once again. It hurt how badly you needed it. You pulsed over his dick, a flurry of frantic perdóname slipping free from your lips over and over, a disc stuck on repeat. Miguel’s moans ripped through the room, the desire for air a secondary thought. You never heard him so loud, so enraged, even earlier today.
You came, wet and sweet over his swollen dick, for the second time since he showed up. A fourth since Hobie was here. You couldn't breathe, pinned between his chest and the bed. Your thighs tremored piteously around him, searing with pleasurable heat. You accepted his last frantic thrusts, marked by a sharp grunt. His wet cum spilled into you, hips snapping to your core to ensure you took every last bit of his seed. You buried your head between pillows and his fist under your neck, tightening and loosening. Your head was thumping, sweat cloaking his suit. When Miguel was finally spent, he pulled free, gloops of cum slipping free along with him. He threw you a look, recording the memory of your ruined body in his mind.
“Miguel--” you reached out. Or tried to. He jerked to the edge of your fluffy bed, his hands wrangling sweat out of his long hair.
“Let's stop seeing each other."
Seconds passed before you could articulate the right words, watching his chest rise and fall with the tension. He fit himself back into his suit, throwing a glance over his muscular shoulders when you cried his name. For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. Only…
“I… I didn’t know you would care.”
He steeled himself to your words from the gentle touch of your fingers on his elbow, trying to reason with him to lay in bed. He wouldn’t. Not this time. You crawled over, trying again. Realistically, you held little hope that he'd let you touch him. Not if he was banishing you from his life. Optimistically, all he could do was throw you off again. You considered yourself lucky that he allowed your arms to slide about his waist and press your breasts against his rising and falling back.
“I did.” But he acted as though he didn't. The words felt small as if they didn't fit in your mouth. He cared. Miguel ran his hand down, then up his head again, exhaling a wilting breath. "Mira… let me go," he sighed, loathing the words on his tongue. He wasn't enough. He knew he wasn't. "I'm in the way."
"In the way? Miguel, you're never in my way."
You couldn't be this dull. Miguel loosened your hands around his waist, glancing toward Hobie's miscellaneous shoes at the foot of your bed. Your intermingled jewelry in ceramic little pots. Maybe he did see it. Maybe he wanted to ignore it, to convince you he was enough. Maybe he was the one that appeared every time you two were alone, not the other way around. And maybe he was the interloper.
"In Hobie's way. You can’t believe that he isn’t jealous.”
“Hobie doesn’t get jealous.”
“You're blind. Everyone gets jealous,” he scoffed. “Even him.”
“Even you?”
That shuts him up. You watched as he pushed himself off the bed, stretching out his neck and heading out your bedroom window. This time, you wouldn’t follow him to the lab, slink into his bed. This time, you knew he wouldn’t come back. It was better, this way, your lives playing out apart from one another. Some lives can't be pieced back together once their web breaks.
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kitkatscabinet · 10 months
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The greatest reward
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F! reader
Summary: With a four year old son and a sick baby there's little time to rest, especially when your husband's been so busy with work.
Word count: 721
"Being a parent was the greatest reward in the world" Whoever had coined that statement had obviously never been awoken at 2 in the morning to the dissatisfied screams of a baby.
A broken sob left your throat at the sound, vision blurring as you attempted to get out of bed to rectify the situation. The creaking of your door and a tired little voice alerting you to a new presence, "Mum, the baby's crying again." Your son's voice was as tiredly frustrated as you felt and nearly drew another sob from your lips.
Usually, your little Emilia slept through the night but she'd been suffering from a particularly stubborn ear infection lately. Miguel had been so busy with the swarm of anomalies recently that you'd been left to shoulder most of the burden the past few days.
Just as you reached the threshold of your bedroom door, hand reaching for your son, your vision was obscured by your husband's bulk.
"Miguel" your voice cracked, face scrunching up in a desperate attempt to stop the flow of tears.
"Papa!" your son shouted, all tiredness abruptly gone at the return of the father that had been absent the past few days. Miguel didn't even flinch at the sudden armful of four-year-old he had. You all but fell into Miguel's arms after that, the dam broken.
A warm kiss was pressed into your hairline as a large hand caressed the side of your face. Letting out a shaky exhale, you leaned further into his touch, closing your eyes as you tried to savour the moment.
Emilia's cries quickly shattered the moment forcing a whine to escape from your lips, however, before you could take another step Miguel was gently pushing you back to bed.
"Shh my vida, go back to sleep."
"But-" you were quickly cut off by a gentle hand pushing your shoulders back down and pulling the blanket over your form.
"No, rest. You've done more than enough, it's my turn now." With those words, the little fight you still possessed was drained. You barely had the sense to offer a grateful smile before you were pulled into slumber.
You don't notice the next time Emilia starts to cry, or the time after that. The rest of your night and well into the next afternoon you spend nearly catatonic. When you do wake to an empty room and silent house you panic, darting upright and bursting into the living room blindly.
"Mama!" the call is the only warning you get before it's your turn to receive an arm full of toddler. This was quickly followed by Miguel's admonishing voice.
"Carlos, let your mother breathe." Your son pouts but is quick to stop squeezing you, walking back over to try and entice his little sister into playing with the toy dinosaurs scattered across the floor.
Slinking across the room, you fall into your husband's open embrace, letting out a sigh of contentment. "Sorry for sleeping in so long. You should've woken me" you murmured, wrapping your arms around his waist, voice slightly muffled from where your face buried itself in his thigh.
"Nonsense. I should be apologising, leaving you here all alone." You shake your head, still too sleepy to properly respond. The warm circles Miguel was drawing over your back not helping your battle to stay awake. Your silence stretched on, only interrupted by the nonsensical babbles of your son.
"Mama!" the peace is broken by the excited call, as you sit up abruptly in shock. Glancing at where your children were playing you were met with the sight of your daughter, making grabby hands your way.
"Did she just-" you were cut off once more by the repeated call.
"Mama!" Immediately you were laughing in joy, bouncing to your feet and bundling her in your arms. Her shrieks of laughter joined your own as you peppered her face in little kisses. Miguel wasn't far behind, scooping both you and Emilia up into his arms with a twirl. The laughter was interrupted once more by the little voice. "Pa!"
Seeing the awed look of adoration on your husband's face at that instantly made all the sleepless nights worth it. All the screaming, crying and doctor's visit. They were all worth it. Especially with a man like Miguel O'Hara by your side.
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spider999sposts · 10 months
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Hombre hambriento — Miguel O' Hara
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🕸 synopsis: miguel feels like a shitty boyfriend, so, when he finally comes home late at night, he decides to make it up for you...in his own way.
🕸warnings: not too smutty, but very explicit. mentions of: fangs, grinding, etc. reader is awake and aware, but very sleepy (could fall under the somnophilia tag, but there is verbal consent of course!)
🕸 tags: miguel o'hara × fem!reader
🕸 note: feedbacks and comments are greatly appreciated! constructive criticism is welcomed. requests for more spiderverse characters are open!
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Miguel was exhausted.
Copious amount of paperwork burnt him out, anomalies all over the multiverse tested his body's endurance, the Miles Morales situation drove him to the brink of insanity. He was not your average man, that's true, but those broad shoulders sometimes can't handel all this weight.
On top of all that, he was a shitty boyfriend.
In his perspective, at least. He wasn't around as much, and when he'd come home early, he'd fall face first into the bed, wanting nothing but the sweet relief of getting his eyes shut for a few hours, before waking up again and going off to finish whatever remaining work there was.
You complained, which was well within your right. You told him you missed him, missed having him around, laughing with him, touching him. You mostly complained in the form of jokes, teasing him that he was so busy he forgot you existed sometimes, but he knew that deep down it upset you, even if you were not showing it.
And today he decided he has had enough. He'd handled an anomaly, and asked Jess to write the report for him, then retreated to his office and told LYLA to put his status as 'out of office' for a couple of weeks. He hadn't been home for a week now, and he wanted nothing more but to go home to you.
Of course, he knew you'd be pissed at him, he went no contact for a week, honestly he won't be surprised if he was back home and he found out that you left. Though, he's unsure what he would do if that was true.
He opened a portal to Nueva York and swung back to your shared apartment, landing on your balcony. He opened the sliding door and entered into your living room, accidently tripping over something and hitting the floor. He groaned, and then stood up, surprised , that he heard no reaction to the heavy thud that sounded across the apartment.
An anxious feeling settled into his stomach, did you get fed up? Did you leave? Did you find someone else? God, that last one made his chest hurt.
He called out your name, but there was no answer. Not alot of things scared this man, but the thought of losing you, after he'd lost everything before, made him crumble. He scrambled to the kitchen, looking for a note, anything. But there was nothing.
The entire apartment looked tidy, like no one has been using for days. Miguel is the tidier one out of both of you, so the state the apartment was in felt hollow. He walked out of the kitchen, now directly heading to the bedroom. He opened the door, and the sight before him sent waves of relief into his body.
You were laying on his side of the bed, wearing one of his button up shirts, fast asleep. Miguel let out a long exhale, as he walked over to your sleeping stature. He stripped off his spider suit, staying in only his boxers, and then he sat next to you, his heavy weight weighing down the mattress. You shifted slightly, moving around under the sheets. Miguel smiled, he always loved watching you sleep, he loved how messy your hair got, he loved how you murmur and softly exhale, he loved how you sometimes had your mouth open when you slept, but most of all,he loved how peaceful you looked. And how nothing in the world could take moments like this from him.
He leaned over you, and pressed a tender kiss to your head. God, your scent. He missed it. He missed having you in his big arms, holding you and lulling you to sleep. He missed wrapping his arms around your body and drawing you closer to him in the middle of the night. He missed touching you, he missed having been touched by you.
God, he felt like he can't move. Your scent drove him crazy, the way you breathed softly and the way he could see your bare body through his shirt made him feel rabid. He felt the tent in his pants buldge, and it wasn't getting any smaller.
Miguel moved, now laying on the side of the bed across from you. He propped himself near you, and layed one of his hands on your abdomen. He pulled you into his hot body, then leaned closer to you. He peppered your neck with gentle kisses, and playful bites, his fangs protruded from his mouth, but he made sure not to bite you too hard to wake you, or too hard to hurt you.
You shifted in place, then a low mumble came out of you. "Miguel..?"
Ah, so he'd awaken you a bit. That's good.
"Sì, mi amour.." He hummed into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe. "Where have you been?" You asked, opening your eyes a bit. You could see him. His irsis heavy with lust, dark circles around those crimson eyes, he looked starved and not just for food. "Lo siento, preciosa," [I'm sorry, precious] He knew you loved it when he spoke spanish to you, but right now he wasn't doing it on purpose. "..El trabajo ha sido agotador.." [Work has been tiring] He grumbled against your skin, sending vibrations down your neck. He continued to bite and suck on your skin, now grinding up against your thigh. God, he was dying for any type of contact.
"It's okay.." You replied, letting out soft moans, putting your hands on his face. Miguel let out a loud groan as soon as he felt your soft palms on his face. His body was on fire and your touch was the only that could cool him down. He took your hand off his face, and led it to his chest. "I've missed you." He stated, holding your hand in his for a moment. You hummed, you were still queit asleep, but you knew full well what those words meant.
"I've missed you too, honey, but I'm tired. Can this wait till the morning?"
"No puedo, amor." [I can't, love]
You let out a giggle, then snuggled near his chest. "Mm, fine, do as you wish.." You say, as sleep finds its way back to your eyes. Miguel was waiting for these words, because as soon as you said them, he got on top of you. "Are you sure you don't want to stay awake for this?" He whispered, unbuttoning the shirt you wore. "I'm sure you'll find a way to keep me up."
Miguel just chuckled, and then silently began to bite your shoulder. Feeling his fangs sink deep into your skin, you let out a loud moan and shifted underneath his massive weight. "You've been gone for so long.."
"I know."
"This won't make anything up for me.."
"I know."
"I needed you just as much, y'know.."
"I know, love."
Your hand finds his hair. Oh, how you've missed this. Feeling his body on yours, his soft curls in your hands. You tugged lightly, and Miguel let out a growl. He was rubbing his groin against your underwear, god, you could feel how large he was without even looking.
"I'm a shitty ass boyfriend.."He mumbled, squeezing one of your breasts, opening his mouth to suck on your sensitive nipples. "I took a break, I'm all yours.." His eyes met your half opened ones. He held your gaze as he continued to trace your body with his kisses and bites, until he reached the hem of your underwear.
Miguel grazed the delicate skin with his sharp teeth, and then with one swift move, he ripped the flimsy fabric off your body. You pouted, burying your face in the pillows. "I liked that one."
"Too bad, mi amour." He chuckled, taking off his own boxers. "I'll buy you another, don't pout."
A moment of silence filled the room.
And then you felt it.
It was just his tip, but it was enough to make you squirm. Miguel was a girthy man, and you could never get used to how big he got when he was this desperate. He pushed his length in with ease, and you kept squirming underneath him, moaning out his name in a series of breathy mumbles. "Mierda..." [Fuck] He cussed, burying his face into your neck.
He stayed still to let you adjust, and as soon as you stayed still, he began to move. His pace was slow, rhythmic. He was frustrated, tired, exhausted, but the way he made love to you was that of a man who just really, really, really missed his lover.
"Ah, Miguel.."
"Te amo. Te amo mucho."
He picked up the pace, kissing your lips like they were going to save him from perishing. The more sounds you made and the more you tugged on his hair, the closer he felt. As Miguel's mind clouded, and his body reached the anticipated release he-oh-so craved, he could only repeat one thing.
"Te amo, te amo...mi preciosa...mi dulce chica...te amo."
----
Birds chirping was what woke you up the next morning.
You sighed loudly, your body felt incredibly warm, but the shirt you wore to sleep last night was not around you. In fact, it was discarded on the ground next to a familiar blue and red suit.
"Goodmorning, beautiful.." His deep, morning voice startled you. You vaugly remember Miguel coming in last night, making you feel so good, then both of you falling asleep, but you didn't expect he'd be there the next morning. It was a nice change. You turned to face him. He was propped up on the pillow next to you, his head in his hand, his hair a disheveled mess and a sleepy smile on his handsome, yet tired face.
"Goodmorning, honey..." You replied, smiling up at him. "I'm mad at you."
"Oh, mi vida, come on."
"Showing up in the middle of the night and fucking me isn't a way to apologise, hombre estúpido. ¿Crees que te perdonaré tan fácilmente?" [Stupid man, do you think I'll forgive you that easily?]
Miguel laughed, and your gaze softened. It was nice hearing his laugh again, you couldn't stay mad at this man.
"You've been practicing." He commented, scooting closer to you. You hummed, "Just to degrade you when you came back."
"Mm, it's hot, to be honest with you."
You huffed, and it made him laugh again. He enjoyed teasing you, that masochist. "Whatever, Miguel." You tried to turn away from him, but he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you swiftly, laying you on top of him. "I'll make it up to you, I'm all yours for the next two weeks."
"Hm, just two?"
"Now now, don't be greedy."
"You're my boyfriend, it's well within my rights to be greedy."
"Hm, maybe you could convince me to stay longer then.."
A mischievous look appeared in his eyes, and he grinned. "Oh yeah, and how am I suppose to do that?" You asked, leaning in towards his lips, brushing yours against his.
He caught your lips in his, and then moved you underneath him. You saw him get under the sheets, his eyes darkening, and before you felt his mouth against your skin, he talked once more.
"We could pick up from where we left yesterday, don't you think?
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note: i've noticed that many spanish speaking people on tumblr suggested writers use spanishdict for translations, as google translate can sound robotic or just blatantly be wrong, so that's what I used while proofreading.
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skipper1331 · 11 months
Text
Fighting // Alessia Russo
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The day started off fine.
Like she always did, Alessia woke up before you.
Most of the time it was an hour before the alarm went off but she didn‘t leave the bed until. She would lay in bed and admire you. Her hand would scratch your back or stomach (depending on the position you were in) so softly while she pressed feathery kisses on top of your head and sometimes she would mumble phrases like 'you’re so pretty, my girl' or 'i‘m so lucky to be with you'.
When the alarm went off she let it ring 2 minutes or so, so you could start to wake up. After she turned it off, of course your eyes still closed, she started to press kisses to each of your cheeks, to your forehead, chin, temple and the corner of your mouth. The moment she felt your smile she knew you were present. "Good morning, my pretty pretty girl" she whispered. Your smile only grew at the pet name yet still too tired to respond. "You need to get up, so we can get ready for todays derby, baby." this time you hummed as reply. Alessia made her way to the bathroom to start her routine while you were still sitting in the bed with no energy to move. It was too early. "babygirl, you need get up otherwise we‘ll be late."
"Need kisses" you stated sleepy.
Alessia exited the ensuite bathroom again, chuckling. She pecked your lips sweetly but it wasn‘t enough. As a respond you grumbled. You wanted a real kiss. Another peck was pressed to your lips. "Lessi" you whined. You pouted at her while giving her your best puppy dog eyes. You knew she could never resist them. It made her weak (yet she always was when she was around you). Finally giving in, she gave you the good morning kiss you deserved, knocking the air out of your lungs.
The game ended in a 1-1 draw. Unfortunately, you didn‘t had the chance to talk to your former Barcelona teammate Leila before the game so you decided to approach the city player after. Your transfer to united was a few years back while Leilas to city was just recently. Leila and you had been great friends at barcelona but as life goes on you lost contact. From time to time the two of you called each other but it wasn‘t the same. When you heard the news that Leila would come to Manchester you were excited. You knew Leila didn‘t get enough playing-time at Barca which made you sad considered she was a great left back. You owe Leila a lot: she made you feel welcome in Spain, she spent hours of teaching you spanish and supported you even when you had your doubts. So the only right thing to do was to offer her the same opportunities. Due a busy schedule you hadn‘t seen her since her arrival, so the derby was the first time in years (despite the euros) where you saw her. "Leila!" you shouted to get her attention. You ran up to her and jumped on her. She easily caught you. "¿Cómo estás?" (how are you) she asked. "Muy bien, ¿y tú? (really good, and you?). The two of you talked about how City was treating her, If she liked manchester so far and so on. It was a talk about everything and nothing and you must admit it was really nice to catch up with the spaniard. Despite the fact that you hadn‘t seen each other for a long time, it was as If the other person was never away. The dynamic between you two was like it was back in Spain.
As you entered the changing room Alessia was nowhere to be seen, her cubby empty. "El, have you seen Lessi?" you asked her best friend. "Nah" Not giving it too much thought, you showered and changed into normal clothes. Maybe she was already at your car, you thought. So you grabbed your bag and walked to the car where in fact Alessia was already sitting in the drivers seat. "Didn‘t know you could be this fast" you joked referring to the time it took her to shower and get changed while you were still on the pitch talking to Leila. She mumbled something but you were to occupied with talking about the match that you didn‘t notice it. What you also didn‘t notice was that Alessia was awfully quiet and kept her hand to herself. Normally she would have her hand on your thigh or would hold your hand.
At home, she still hadn‘t said a word. When she started to cook something you hugged her taller figure from behind with your chin resting on her shoulder "what are we gonna eat tonight?" you asked. You couldn’t tell what she wanted to cook with only a few ingredients on the kitchen counter. "I‘m making myself a pizza. Don‘t know what you‘re gonna eat." she huffed while wiggling out of your embrace. "What?" -
"You heard me" If you haven‘t noticed earlier that she was mad, you did now. And if you think back: she didn‘t hold your hand in the car, didn‘t talk to you either and certainly didn‘t kiss you. She was mad at you. "Are you mad at me?" you asked suprised as if it wasn‘t obvious. "I don‘t know. You tell me." she snapped. starting to pack away the ingredients. She was not in the mood for pizza anymore. "Lessi?" you grabbed her arm, stopping her in her movement. "Don‘t touch me!" instantly she pushed your hand away and walked out of the kitchen. You were taken aback, Alessia always wanted to feel your touch even If it‘s only your pinkies linking. "I don‘t understand" you followed her. "Of course you don‘t" an ironic laugh escaped her mouth. You were starting to get angry, too. Why didn‘t she just say what her problem was? "Why are you so mad at me?" you shouted. Enough was enough. You wanted - no, you had to know what you did wrong. "Why don‘t you ask Leila?! Maybe she gets all your attention. Oh wait- She already has!" she yelled. Now you understood; Alessia was jealous.
Angrily, she marched towards your bedroom. Again, you followed her but a few steps behind. Before you could enter your shared bedroom she slammed the door in your face. The door was slammed with so much force that even the picture frame fell off the shelf. Alessia heard the glass shattering and shortly afterwards your cursing. Immediately she opened the door, only to see you in a squat position trying to clean the floor. Her eyes looking at your bleeding hand. Something in her flipped at the sight of you because the second she saw blood on you her anger washed away and was replaced with worry. She squatted down, picked you up and carried you bridal style to the bathroom. "Lessi-" she shushed you with her finger on your lips. Frantically, she searched for the first aid kit. "You don‘t need to do this" you said in a low voice, looking at the floor. "What? Of course I do, you’re my girl" with the first aid kit now lying next to you, she started off with cleaning the wound. You flinched a few times and each time Alessia would stop. She would look into your eyes, search for consent to continue and when you nod, she would give you a soft kiss to your forehead. Everything was done quietly. Both of you wanted to say something but remained silent. As Alessia finished to put the bandage around your hand, your head fell onto her chest. The exhaustion of the game and your fighting visible. "I‘m sorry" you both started, a small laugh coming from the Italian and you. With your head off her chest "may I?" a nod came as respond "I‘m sorry. I didn‘t mean to upset you. I know i talked to Leila for a while. I didn't get a chance to talk to her before and I owe her so much. I want to give it back to her, even if she's not playing with us." you apologized and explained. You have always thought that it was important to give an explanation for your actions so that the other person knew that you‘re serious about your apology. "And thank you for the" you wiggled with your injured hand "you didn’t have to do that. I shouldn‘t have followed you when i knew that you‘re angry. I‘m sorry." Everything you said was nothing but the truth. You hated it when Alessia and you fight. But luckily, it rarely happened. And even If; you're human beings, you're not perfect. Sometimes you get into a fight and argue but that's normal. No relationship is perfect. The trick is to communicate and express your feelings to reconcile.
Alessia pressed a long kiss to your forehead. "I‘m sorry too. I didn't mind you talking to Leila. I know she means a lot to you. It bothered me that once the game was finished, you didn't give me a high give or acknowledged me at all, even though we always do our special handshake. Then the fans talked about your interaction and it made me upset because of the rumours of you two being a couple. They got into my head." During her explanation her eyes never left yours, her cheeks red. She felt slightly embarrassed because she exposed her feelings.
Before your relationship Alessia didn‘t talk about her feelings, she bottled them inside of her and it took you some time to break her walls down and make it clear that her feelings are valuable. "I‘m sorry about your hand… that i caused it." you took her hands in yours (careful not hurt your wounded hand more) and kissed each finger tip. "It wasn‘t your fault" you whispered as you switched to her other hand. "I love you and I am proud of you" her heart melted at your words. To hear that you‘re proud her made her fall in love with you all over again while the three little words made her go feral. "Stop it, you silly" Alessia giggled.
The italian could never take compliments especially when they came from you.
As your hand wandered to her neck your lips pressed against the blonde‘s. A kiss that was so soft and loving that it meant more than words ever could. "Pizza?" you asked smiling after breaking away. "Yes!", peppering kisses to your lips. "Lets go" with an ease she picked you up and carried you into the kitchen.
It didn‘t matter what happened earlier, it happened and it‘s okay. This is life. There are ups and down.
The moment you both fell for each other (even when Alessia literally fell for you) you agreed to the risk of arguing, disagreeing and having problems. As long as you reconcile and fight for each other, everything will turn out fine.
It‘s Alessia and Y/N, like it‘s always been.
The two of you against the world.
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If you have requests or anything, feel free to send them :)
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mx-jinxous · 9 months
Text
I wanted to get this out last night due to me being busy today with my bday, however I got too sleepy to function. Better late than never. I will try to take everyone to the best of my abilities, but depending on tumblrs restrictions I also have it up on my ao3 here
Chapter 1 l Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |
The last time he felt this level of unclearness, had been when he beat his keg stand record, followed up with too many shots. He’d been a junior trying to chase popularity and ended up waking up on a stranger's bathroom floor. Safe to say the hangover felt shitty, like a knife tapping the inside of his skull in rhythm with his heartbeat. This was worse.
His body was freezing, which emphasized the aches that plagued his body. If he was honest with himself, he was surprised his body had fought off illness for this long. Not having a balanced diet or a proper shelter was a decent way to get sick and without insurance, he was just going to have to power through it.
A shiver rushed through Steve’s body, and the young man used all his strength to bundle the blanket around him. A hand stopped him when it pressed against his forehead, causing a groan to escape from him. He tried to bat the hand away, another hand pressing his back down by the shoulder. Someone was saying something, but the words were garbled like he was listening from underwater. It made the throbbing in his head worse and weighed down his body. All Steve wanted to do was go back to sleep.
Unfortunately, his visitors decided that that wasn’t on his schedule. He was grounded to alertness by gentle slaps to his cheek. With a growl, he attempted to slap the hand away, only for his wrist to come to a jolted stop. Against his body’s protest, he cracked his eyes open, expecting to see Gray. The man in front of him was far too young to be the security guard.
“Ah, there he is.” The man smirked as he slapped Steve’s cheek again before backing away.
“Careful guard, he is still ill.” A woman’s voice came from beside him, making the young man take in his surroundings.
The room was bland and dated by at least a few centuries, with nothing much for decor aside from a few chairs and a sofa. To be honest he felt like he was in an exhibit at the museum with a lack of character. If that was the case then he was going to be in a world of trouble with his boss.
Fingers snapping in front of his face brought him out of his head. The shaggy-haired man was looking irritated with him like he expected an answer. Steve only stared back, refusing to speak with how shitty he was feeling. Shaggy Man seemed just as stubborn, leading to just both of them staring back one another down. It came to a stalemate when the woman spoke up. “Guard, if you would please state your business. I am in charge of the captive and you are impeding my healing.”
“He does not require healing, not until we receive the answers, which is more important if I should remind you.”
“You can not interrogate a dead man. You are allowed three questions but do not trouble him. He must rest.” The woman seemed to mean it if the shaggy man’s silence was to answer. He glared at Steve, who was done with this conversation and wanted nothing but pain relievers and sleep.
“What is your name?” He rolled his eyes at the guard before directing attention to the doctor. “How did you get into the burial chamber?” His silence only seemed to anger the guard. “Answer now!” He growled, grabbing Steve by the forearm. He pulled his arm into view, pointing at his wrist. “Where did you get this!”
The glimmer of gold was all it took to recall the events of last night, his body filled with fear and anxiety, the young man trying to escape the bed. He was jerked back into place by the restraint on his other wrist, his eyes traveling to what held him captive. It was a cuff chaining him to the bed, keeping him trapped once more, at the mercy of these strangers.
“Focus!” The shaggy man growled, drawing Steve’s attention back to the guard. “How did you get this bracelet?!”
With a scoff, he pulled his arm free. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I’ll gladly give it to you.” As to prove his point, the young man went to pull it off, only for it to stay fixed in place. He struggled with it before the guard threw his head back with a groan.
“It is magically locked in place you nitwit. Until we break the spell it will remain adhered to your wrist.”
“Magically? Is this some kind of joke? What are you going to do, pull a rabbit out of a hat?” He scoffed at that, glaring at Steve.
“Stop being ridiculous. Do I look like a summoner to you? Also, what would a rabbit do to solve your issues?”
“Wha-?”
“Alright guard, my patient needs healing and rest. Please allow me to do my job as I allowed you to. You can finish your interrogation once his health has returned to a more lucid place. I will call for you at such time.” Steve expected a retort, an argument to break out due to whatever drugs the guy had been taking. Magic wasn’t real, despite the bracelet being adhered to his wrist, or the night before with the statue. Maybe he’s just been sick and it was all a fever dream. Gray probably found him and he’s in some kind of historical hospital.
“Just keep him locked up and send for me when he is coherent again.” Without a response he left, slamming the door. The woman tutted before turning her attention back to Steve.
“I apologize for his attitude, he is just cautious. My name is Joyce, I am a healer. I have waited till you woke up before asking to heal you. I can do it magically or with traditional methods. I know some humans are averse to magical methods, however, it will relieve your ailments in time for the guard's second round of interrogation. I understand he will not be swayed again. The king requires information on how you got into the burial chamber. “
“You too? This is definitely a fever dream. There is no such thing as magic, it's all smoke, mirrors, and illusion.”
“Oh dear, you must have hit your head. I assure you I am a rather talented vitamancer and you will need all your strength. I am sure King Kas will be ruthless when he comes to question you.”
Steve froze. The nightmare seemed closer to reality at the mention of the statue. Had he been kidnapped by the marble man, taken to some crazed cult that believed in magic? It was too much to focus, covering his eyes with his forearm. He couldn’t bare to face the king, especially not in his current condition. He felt faint, the world spinning as he tried to calm himself.
“Oh sweetheart, do not panic. I will make sure you are well enough if you allow me.” Joyce held a hand up, glowing a faint yellow, and offered with a kind of smile. She seemed sincere, calm, and patient. She made Steve’s freezing body feel warm and he found himself nodding. He doesn't recall the next few minutes beside a glow before the world returned to dark.
Joyce left him under the guards at his door, nodding at the two as she warned them to leave the intruder to rest. Her robe dragged behind her while she strolled up the castle stairs, to the king's private office. It’s where he felt the most confident in addressing issues with his advisor before the court. To say she wasn’t surprised that the others were already there delegating to one another. Her arrival went unnoticed as the king's personal guard and guard commander were arguing. Kas stood, rubbing his temple, Joyce noting the headache that was forming.
“He has been uncooperative, delusional, and quite frankly an ass.”
“You were not there when the guard retrieved him. He looked like a traumatized wet dog. I highly doubt he is lucid enough to even register where he is.”
“Chris, Gareth, please calm your voices.” Kas groaned, looking up to see the newcomer. “Joyce, you have spent time with the intruder. What do you have to say about him?” Eyes dragged to the healer, one of the elders of the advisors, looking to her as the voice of reason.
“It is hard to say. He has been incoherent most of the times he awoke. The fever has taken a toll on him, affecting his memories. He seems lost on how he got here and magic as a whole. I did heal him and he is resting. The guards are aware that the only visitors outside this room are food delivered by the guards. Once he is awake and fed, then we shall be able to question him. You have my sign Liffey.” Joyce instructed.
“Understood, then I will personally accompany Gareth. If this stranger is working for Lord Vecna and infiltrated our walls then we will retrieve all the information possible with any means necessary.” Kas demanded.
“His clothing was certainly strange.” Gareth huffed.
“He will get a moment to state his case, I for one am looking to get some answers about our dead man walking.” Kas sighed. “Joyce, once he is alert and fed, calls for us.” The woman nodded, excusing herself. She left, taking a detour to the castle garden. In the center were her twins, Will and El, practicing magic. They were playing with a bush of roses, wilting before returning to their vibrant state. Unlike her eldest, the twins had been born as diviners, much like their paternal grandmother. Their father was the only non-mage in their unique family, her three children house unique magic.
She watched for a moment, enjoying the sight of the youngest taking joy in their magic. Looking off to an opposing garden corner, seeing her eldest, Jonathon backed against the gardener. Argyle was a down-to-earth Druid, who seemed to take a fondness for her son. Joyce knew the two were closer than friends, it was clear how the druid grew a flower and tucked it behind the younger healer's ear. Young love always warmed her heart, to see her children happy.
Pulling away, she called out for lunch, planning to check on Steve when they finished. She didn’t make it past the appetizer before Gareth came running into the dining hall, with a patrol with him. Joyce stood, concern painted on her face at the notice of their city gear. “What is going on?”
“I will stay in the castle. If he tries to attack then I will be here for the king.” With a nod, the young guard had the patrol out of the castle grounds.
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Tag list, if you’d like to be added (or I missed you) state so down below. There are some that would not allow me to tag, I did leave them in and I will look into it as soon as I can.
@steddieas-shegoes , @steddie-steddie @paintsplatteredandimperfect @roastingdragon @oblivion-void @just-a-tiny-void @lilangeldevil006 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @izzy2210 @weirdandabsurd42 @throwbackthrowaway @steve-the-hairrington @loser-of-hearts333 @croatoan-like-it’s-hot @gingersass @alto-delete @anaibis @limbs-are-optional @thephantomhood @itsall-taken @jamieweasley13 @imfinereallyy @yeahhh-suga @awkotaco24 @aliea82 @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @stxrcrossed186 @emly03 @elviraenthusiast @siriusleeart @fxrgetmenott @amerikanskaya-krassavitsa @noctxrn-e @spicysix @renaissan-vvitch @lovelyscot @goodolefashionedloverboi @teelagurl558 @seilahtitania32 @sparky--bunny @dontslayfay @amrice @pluckedstrings @plyerice27 @vae1bixy @grtwdsmwhr @vacantwatchers @8em-em-em8 @stevesbipanic @commonxsenss @sani-86 @suikatto @callmesirkay @spideysteveloml @neeerdrage @quevadilla @p0lybl4nkk @thetrueghostqueen @ok-just-why @eyesofshinigami @oxidantdreamboat @platinum-sunset @milottadoodles @chillichats @kyysposts @bookworm0690
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thisismeracing · 1 year
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hey you! can i please request the #1 prompt for micky? happy ending and the rest is up to you. 🫶🏼
hi there! you absolutely can and here you go 🫶🏾 hope you like it
From the Quick Prompt List: 1. “Do you really think friends act like this?”
word count: 0.8k
pairing: reader (she/her pronouns) x mick schumacher
warnings: not proofread, mention of alcohol, tooth-rotting fluff (I decided to go with fluff bc I noticed most of my prompts were kinda angsty at their core lol)
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It was a three years friendship, it was normal to act like that around each other. Or that's what Mick tried to tell himself when Yn was the first person he searched for as soon as he got to the group gathering their friends were having.
She was curled in a loveseat with a small blanket dropped over her lap. There was a wine glass in her hands and a lazy smile on her lips which were red-stained. Although the loveseat was far from the door and he could very well compliment everyone before her, he made a straight line to her and dropped a kiss to the corner of her lips, he could almost taste the wine from that spot. And after greeting everyone Mick sat with her on the seat, her body almost on his lap, his hands on her thighs. The blonde did not even bother to get himself a glass of wine or a bottle of beer. They shared her glass, just as they shared the blanket and longing stares while everyone was too busy talking about a viral TikTok.
It's late at night when everyone decides to go home, and of course, Mick would not let Yn get into an Uber tipsy, and at that hour, it was only fair they shared, and it turns out it was fair he stayed with her. That's what they decided when the car came to a stop in front of her apartment. Mick was used to staying at her house, so much that he had a spare of everything in her room and tons of clothes he would either forget or she would take to wear herself.
"Are you hungry? You want me to order pizza or cook you something?" the German asked once they got inside.
"Thank you, Micky, but I just want to wash my face, brush my teeth and go to sleep."
Not bothering to switch on the lights, Yn walked to her bedroom, and then to her bathroom where she finally bumped her fingers on the light switch.
They bumped shoulders while brushing their teeth, they laugh at each other antics while washing their faces, and Mick helped Yn with the strings of her dress. When they were ready for bed, Yn wearing one of Mick's shirts and him wearing a pair of sweats, she settled with half of her body on top of his. His arm looped around her body automatically while the other one made its way under her shirt to draw random patterns on the naked skin of her back, something Mick knew would make her sleep faster.
Yn didn't know if it was the wine glasses she had or how sleepy he felt, but her thoughts were expressed loud enough for Mick to hear and still his movements for a second, “Do you really think friends act like this?” It was as if she was wondering to herself, finally asking the question both have been curious about since the day they met. Is friendship supposed to feel like this? Neck kisses, corner lips kisses, long hugs, the constant need to talk, sharing beds, constantly worrying about the other, always wanting to be around, having trouble imagining a future without the other.
"Well, I don't share beds with my friends. Nor do I get goosebumps when I touch them. Much less, I don't love my friends like I love you," he confesses. Yn can hear his frantic heartbeat under her, the way his breath stops for a second like he's waiting for her to say something, anything.
"I feel safe around you," she whispers. "You're the first person I think about when I wake up and the last before I go to bed. I want to share everything with you, I want to share my life with you," she rants while lazily running her nails on the exposed skin of his stomach. "But I'm afraid things will change. What if something goes wrong and then I don't have you in my life anymore?" Mick can feel the distress in her tone, the way her nails dig a bit into him, and her heartbeat accelerates.
His fingers went back to the drawings on her skin and he brought her even closer, lips finding the side of her face and leaving a kiss there, "I would never leave you, Yn."
It's a promise and Yn relaxes when she senses how his tone is secure. She supports her weight on her arms just to lift her face to his. They stare at each other for a beat, Mick smiles and Yn drops her face closer leaving a small peck on his lips. It's like a promise of what's about to come. It's something both of them always wanted to do.
"Now, we're going to sleep, and we will figure it out in the morning ok? We're too sleepy and tipsy to discuss this now," he was always so thoughtful and Yn loved it about him. She loved him, and she was still coming to terms with it, with saying it out loud, with turning their friendship into something more, but for now, confessing their feelings and agreeing on working on it was enough. It was one more step they took together toward love.
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Wrote this listening to "Friends" by Ed Sheeran (Idk why I keep adding those random details, please don't give up on me lol). Hope you guys like it, don't forget to share with your besties and lmk your thoughts on this piece. hugs and kisses from millieeeee
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claiestve · 4 days
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HEY I HOPE YOURE DOING GREAT !!! I have an idea so … this scenario is like a week before they became a couple (audio 9) and they had a day off since listener finished a case and they decided to take a day off. As listener got ready for sleep they got a little sad and basically went to sleep crying, Isaac still saw light coming from the room and since it was late he decided to check up on them. He walks in and as he was about to turn of the light he sees the tears and puffy cheeks from sleeping listener THEN ISAAC GETS SOFT AND WORRIED SLOWLY TOUCHING THEIR FACW AAAAAAA
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𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ꨄ Isaac
˜”* ❝𝘽𝙪𝙩 𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣'𝙩 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙞𝙩 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩'𝙨 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙚.❞
⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʜᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴏᴋᴀʏ.
⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯
It’s been so hard to get used to this type of life. Yeah, it’s been some time but damn, this shit is hard. You felt like you didn’t belong here no matter how much closer you and Isaac got, it just felt like you were out of place. And what about when you left? It didn’t feel like he wanted you to stay even if you wished he would. It was getting difficult for you to hide your feelings for him. 
There was nothing left to do anymore. You finished any piece of work that came your way and now, you were left by yourself in your own company. It was peaceful but it felt overly lonely. That’s what you’ve been feeling lately, lonely. It was hard for you not to get all in your head when you were alone like this, especially at this time. Isaac was busy and there was nothing to distract you. 
Why did this have to happen? You didn’t need a savior if things just went differently. It just felt like you were a burden on Isaac and you did not want to feel like that. Your eyes tear up at that. The thought that you were a burden on the only person you had, someone you really fucking like too. 
Now, you’re sitting here bawling. It seemed so silly, like something you’d do if you were still a kid. Just crying about nonsense. But, it was your head getting to you. You were just glad Isaac didn’t see you like this. It would’ve been mildly embarrassing and you didn’t want to deal with that at all. You weren’t even sure if he was up at this time. You decided to go to bed as it was late and crying wasn’t going to fix anything, no matter how much you needed to.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
“Y/N?” 
Your door cracks and eventually glides open revealing a sleepy Isaac. He came in to check on you since you left your lamp on. He already knew you were asleep but something inclined him to just get closer and check. 
“You awake?”
A hand glided across your face with gentle intent. It was a sweet, soft touch almost like a caress. His hand met and caught a tear from your closed eyes. “You’ve been crying… why…”
He focuses on your puffy red face. He wasn’t used to seeing this, not from you at least. All of a sudden, you feel the bed move a bit. When you lifted your head, there he was, draped on the bed next to you. 
“Isaac, why are you in here?”
“The light was on and um, I was worried.”
“Aw, thank you for worrying but there’s nothing to worry about.”
You roll over, looking away from him. You knew he saw your face but you didn’t want to draw any more attention to it. You’d rather hide under a thousand heavy covers than let him see your face like this. It was embarrassing and you’ve already embarrassed yourself enough in front of him. 
“Please look at me.” He says in a desperate tone. It was on the verge of an eager request with a slight whimper.
With that voice, damn, you wanted to. You wanted to do anything he asked if he asked in that tone. 
“Why?”
“I want to look at you when I talk to you.”
You sigh and turn around seeing his face. His expression is full of concern and sympathy. It wasn’t a pitiful expression, no, it was so much kinder than that. Somehow, it was comforting. 
“Y/N, why were you crying?”
“There’s just a lot going on in my head right now, don’t worry, Isaac.”
“Are– are you sure? I mean, I can sit here and listen to you talk about it if you want.”
That was sweet of him but you didn’t want him losing sleep. Not for something like this anyway.
“It’s okay. Go to sleep, Isaac.”
“Fine,” He stood up, “Goodnight, Y/N.”
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
i miss isaac so bad now i know how the andrew fans felt UGHSAHG
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fullsunised · 1 year
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NCT DREAM REACTION : CHAPTER THREE
nct dream x idol? reader
when you sneak into his dorm, because you miss him.
trigger warnings: fluff
a/n: maybe I should start writing short scenarios🤔
all my love
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MARK LEE
❝dude, what the fuck❞
boy's scared. why the fuck would someone just knock on his window out of no where. with something in his hand, he'd walk and slowly draw the curtains away to reveal a fully covered face.
he's very alarmed until you remove everything that covered your face, and then he'd relax.
his eyes would be wide while he rushed to let you in. as soon as you step into his room, you hurry to hold him. it's been forever after all.... he'd chuckle softly wrapping his arms around you before sighing. the comfort you gave each other being enough to keep you going for the next few weeks.
RENJUN HUANG
❝come from the door next time, idiot❞
he's already sleeping. After a long day, he just wanted some sleep but a soft knock on his window pulled him away from his slumber. because he's too sleepy, he'd just walk to the window and open it.
you'd be shuffling to get in when he's fully awake. his eyes wide for a split moment. throwing himself on to his bed, you'd get comfortable breathing his scent in.
he'd have narrow eyes before giving in and rushing to cuddle you. After his arms are secured, he'd flick your forehead for playing such dangerous games but you whisper how much you missed him and he'd forgive you instantly.
JENO LEE
❝did you not get caught?❞
you'd send him a message before hand asking him to leave his window open and is the boy confused. why window? it wasn't until he saw you professionally climbing up his wall, and a tree he'd realise what was happening.
his eyes would melt into a smile watching you struggle getting in. being the good boyfriend he is he'd help you out. as soon as you were in close vicinity, you'd wrap your arms around him like a koala because you missed him bro.
he'd kiss your forehead, before taking you to the kitchen for some late night snacks.
HAECHAN LEE
❝you missed me huh? ❞
he wouldn't even listen to your knock the first time because he's busy playing with his head phones on. knowing this, you'd text him while hanging on to the tree next to his window. he'd come pull the curtains apart and laugh at you looking like an idiot.
taking a few pictures, he'd finally let you in. your first response after seeing him was to slap his arm. he'd yelp softly still laughing. a smirk would trace his face because his baby missed him. you know he's the happiest person ever when you admit it.
for the rest of the night, you'd sit on his lap while he gamed. your head buried in the crook of his neck, leaving haste kisses. bro in the mean time would be cooing at your cute self.
JAEMIN NA
❝you're actually so cute❞
he'd be worried first, because why did you leave him on read. all the worries would take over his head, that it would take him a minute to react to the knock. his eyes would widen before he'd burst into a wide grin.
giving you his arm, he'd let you in. you wouldn't waste a minute and pull him into a kiss, which he happily accepts his arms around your waist. when you mutter the three words, he'd melt into your arms.
picking you up, he'd drop you on to his bed and pull you closer into his chest. making a promise with himself to make up for all the time you've missed together.
CHENLE ZHONG
❝maybe we should move in together❞
he would be on his phone, scrolling through social media- mostly your's, updating himself with everything that's happening in your professional life when he hears a knock.
he'd have a vase in his hand ready to smash it in whosoever head until he notices you. his heart would melt. opening the door, he'd pull you in. you'd instantly push yourself into his arms, closing your eyes and relaxing while he watches you with a smile.
both of you later would rest against the headboard of the bed, and scroll through instagram together. your heart satisfied cause you were in his arms after forever. no cocky chenle, cause he's tired :)
JISUNG PARK
❝you could've broken your bones❞
he'd be worried first, scared first. when he sees you hanging onto the branch, with your hand stretched forward to jump in. he didn't know you did this before after all.
as soon as you land inside, he'd cup your face and check for any injuries cause who does that? when you reassure him you're alright, it hits him. his girlfriend just snuck in. he'd be a blushing mess after that.
you'd pull him onto his bed, and move as close to him. because distance is a no. he'd chuckled wrapping arms around you. he'd watch you drift of to sleep before kissing your forehead and falling asleep himself.
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fullsunised.
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stargirlfics · 11 months
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The Gentleman Chapter 5: Éclosion
Alfred Pennyworth x Black Dancer!Reader
Summary: Harsh realities and a dangerous new enemy push you and Alfred to be upfront about your feelings
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, canon typical violence, chemical attack mentions, light angst, soft concerned bf!alfred vibes, romantic gestures galore, brief allusion to smut, fluff & feelings!
Word Count: 4.9k
Note: So happy to be bringing you all more of this story I know it’s been a minute! Hope you enjoy this one, it’s special in a lot of ways! The soundtrack for this chapter and the title come from Èclosion by Tony Anderson which I listened to while writing. It makes me think of what falling in love feels like!
[series masterlist] [series playlist]
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Tension lay heavy over the city in the days after the fear toxin attack, people were wary and on edge, the weather even starting to turn cold and dreary while unease hung thick in the air.
Paulie’s Diner was now the site of a police investigation, the entire street blocked off, the news coverage of the attack on a twenty four hour cycle, just barely contained panic swirling over this fear toxin and what it could do. 
You couldn’t lie that it was terrifying, hearing what those who’d been injured said about the toxic gas, what it did to them; hallucinations of a nightmarish hellscape drawing out everyone’s anger and fear, driving them mad. 
It sounded awful and then there was Scarecrow’s chilling warning, the mystery of who he was and what his motives were bringing back eerie memories of the year before and how out of control things had gotten. 
Worry twisted taut in your stomach, exhaustion in your limbs as you finished out your last show of the night, the fourth one in two days in fact, your body and mind run ragged. 
Oz was a smart man but he was predictable.
The new late night hour dance slots added to the schedule weren’t a coincidence, you were sure he was using the distraction to make more money, every dancer working doubles late into the morning hours now, Madame Olena working quick to teach new choreography, a refresher on some pole tricks and sexier strip teases and dances added to the repertoire of shows. 
There were bruises already blossoming on your shins from where you had to push against said pole as you climbed it, inching your way up so the audience could see you float and twirl around it, and as fun as it was, as much as you enjoyed getting to dance with your friends on stage beside you each night, you were tired and sore and just wanted to sleep for a year. 
Certain rituals were getting you through the grueling hours though.
Sleepy phone calls with Alfred before you drifted off when you got home, his sweet encouragement texts and reminders for you throughout the day and how he’d stopped by every other day this week so far to see you even if just to say hello before heading back to the office. 
You’d both been busy since the night of the attack, not finding much time inbetween work to spend the kind of time together that you wanted, a reluctance in both your voices when trying to soften the sting of it likely being the entire week and maybe even the next before you’d get to see each other properly.
That didn’t seem to sway Alfred much though, even when you insisted he didn’t have to go out of his way to come by if he was pressed for time, he showed up anyway, as often as he could. 
You were grateful for it, relieved that he didn’t find your disappointment about your schedules selfish with everything going on, just as content to get any second spent with you that he could. 
Reminders of him were everywhere now too.
The throw blanket on your sofa that smelled faintly like him, the new bouquet of fresh flowers he’d come by one afternoon with, the space near the front door made for his shoes and coat next to yours, like tiny little puzzle pieces were beginning to fill in, ones you didn’t even know you seemed to have all the perfect pieces for.
It made you laugh to yourself now, laid out on the floor in your living room, trying to ease the ache in your muscles, stretching each limb gently while pondering on how tangled up your heart was.
All these feelings were so intense, one part of you cautioning yourself to slow down, not get too invested when you’re not sure he even feels the same, or wants a relationship while another part felt sure about trusting the groundwork that had been laid so far.
So much was going on and you were sure a proper conversation would happen soon, when there was time—if it was Alfred that much you were sure of, knowing he’d never leave you wondering for too long but you did worry. 
Maybe it just wasn’t a good time, with Scarecrow loose and wreaking havoc and the recent reminder that you were under Penguin’s thumb indefinitely; it didn’t bode well for fostering a relationship and in Gotham that was tricky enough on its own. 
But you also couldn’t deny what you were feeling and experiencing. 
Another half suppressed smile coming then, a dreamy breath sighed out at the memory of the previous evening, when Alfred had come by to drop off some takeout only to see you icing your shins, his immediate concern when you greeted him making you laugh, something he didn’t find as amusing in the moment. 
His slightly stern but still soft, “Darling, what happened? Who did this?” made you squirm against the cushions while also making haste to explain before he got too upset. 
The worry on his features faded just a touch after, as he fussed over you, though you didn’t miss his slight eyebrow raise of surprise and intrigue when you said “pole dance”, reminding yourself to circle back around to that subject at a later date…you wanted to see how far that interest went. 
It’s just that he didn’t ever make you feel like these visits were a chore, that’s what you kept coming back to, remembering how his coat and cane were discarded to the side immediately so he could kneel down and take over icing your muscles, soothing hands kneading the stiffness from your calves, insisting that you start eating while he take care of you. 
How could you ever get over that? The gentleness with which he touched you? 
Wanting him felt like oxygen, just as normal as breathing and inevitable as falling asleep, his kisses tasting of hope and something sweet. Things felt different now that Alfred was in your life, the good kind of different, the exciting kind and it almost felt silly to be unsure if you could lean into this but the more you thought about it, the more clarity you came away with. 
There was a reason he spoke to you with such respect, his thoughtfulness about your feelings present in everything, and god the way he looked at you with so much fondness, how his expression could go from sweet to simmering in seconds, leaving you aching, feeling special and adored at every turn, it had to mean something. 
Lost in the web of your thoughts the chime of your phone’s alarm nearly startled you, the time letting you know you had to get ready for rehearsal, your focus now pulled in a different direction and you reasoned with yourself it was best not to overthink this if you could help it. 
The pattering of rain hitting the windows made you wish you could stay in instead, a daydream already forming about curling up with Alfred on the couch, snuggled under the blanket, napping together for the whole evening. 
Rushing out the door before traffic hit you couldn’t help but gaze out in the direction of Wayne Tower, wondering what he was up to, hoping his day was going okay and already counting down the hours until you could hear his voice again. 
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Just across the city, staring out at the winking lights of traffic on the streets below, Alfred paced the floor of his study, his thoughts and emotions a tangled mess. 
He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way, or felt this much about someone, realizing that he’d gotten swept up in it all, reality washing over him like ice now. 
The past week had been stressful to say the least, things were already busy with certain projects and due diligence with investors and financial advisors at Wayne Enterprises, now this fear toxin attack had taken center priority as well, he and Bruce already starting to work around the clock to get a handle on things. 
That meant there was less time available to be with you and even though it had only been a handful of days so far, and despite his frequent visits he still felt distant.
He missed you terribly when you weren’t around and it didn’t take much to see that his feelings for you were really entering serious territory. 
He should be happy about that, he knows he should be, but all there is for him in the moment is fear, because this could only ever end one way and he knows it.  
It was foolish to think he could have something proper with you, something not tainted by secrets that weren’t his to tell, tainted by a dangerous obligation he’d taken on to be at Bruce’s side in his mission as Batman.
That was an obligation he would never ever regret, all of it done out of love it’s just that most of his life had been spent with some proximity to danger and there had been many close calls.
Far too many tragedies had already happened he couldn’t let that become the case for you too. He wouldn’t allow it. 
You were too important to him already and he couldn’t drag you down into all this, especially not now with this Scarecrow figure coming out of the woodwork. 
It did hurt though, just the mere thought of ending things, his heart lurching painfully, not wanting to entertain the thought of letting you go for a single second.
A door he once thought was closed for good had opened the day you met and he let himself get close, captivated in every way, each time hoping it wouldn’t be the last time he would see you.
He was awestruck by how quickly you disarmed him, seeing him so clearly and the fact that you wanted him as well, that you wanted his attention?
He was helpless to do anything except be swept up, but now he had to understand he’d never be able to have that. 
It’d be alright, it would rip him open but this wasn’t the first time he’d chosen duty over feelings, he’d have to find comfort in knowing he had experienced this with you no matter how brief it was, already knowing he wouldn’t quite ever forgive himself for hurting you this way. 
“What’s wrong?” 
The question catches him by surprise as Bruce makes his entrance out of Alfred’s peripheral, still drying the rain from his hair. 
Perfect. Just in time for dinner. 
“Nothing, just working on some numbers in my head. How did it go?” 
His own question had been a deflection, one he’s not proud of but he just needed a second to get his bearings, to screw his head back on straight after thinking of you. 
“Went alright. They don’t have much to go on, Gordon says they’re trying to get a read on the chemical mixture in the gas but that could take awhile. I’m going back to the diner tonight, I have to try and find some clues, whatever I can get.” 
A rough hand passes over the scruff of his jaw as he considers the information, nodding after a moment. 
“I’ll be on standby if you find anything. I’ve been doing some digging myself, nothing concrete so far but there may be more security footage we haven’t seen that could identify him.” 
There's a moment after where it’s quiet, the two men moving around each other in comfortable silence before Bruce caves first, a light chuckle let loose, almost mixing with the downpour of the rain. 
If Alfred were any older he was sure he wouldn’t have heard it but he did, flicking one of his pointed looks at the young man. 
“Seriously, Alfred, what's wrong? Something’s on your mind.” 
He resisted the urge to brush it off or get defensive, softened at this offer to discuss, treasuring these moments of depth with Bruce whenever they came.
All he had to do was say your name and Bruce was nodding, his heart tugging at the sound of it, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose before explaining further.
“I think I may have to end things. I-I’m worried about keeping her safe through this and ultimately she’s just better off. I’d have to lie to keep her from finding out, from getting involved and I don’t want to have to do that, it’s what’s best.” 
More silence, his heart sinking now that the words had been said out loud, the crushing reality setting in just a little more. 
“But you don’t want to let her go right? You do have feelings for her?” 
Alfred can sense the careful line of questioning, deciding to be truthful as vulnerable as it made him feel, nodding a yes. 
“I do, I have feelings for her.” 
“Good, I don’t think you should end things then.” 
Oh that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear.
“Bruce…it’s not as simple as that, she doesn’t know, she can’t know, that could put her at risk, you at risk, we don’t know when there could be another attack, I can’t let-“ but the words are falling short with a placating hand.
“Look I see the way she makes you feel and I don’t think you should let that go. I can’t let you do that actually, you shouldn’t have to sacrifice that, Alfred,” there’s a moment in between, a look that says he wants to say something else but finding the words is hard, “I never actually told you this but before Selina left town, I met up with her, saw her one last time. She wanted me to come with her and I-”
Alfred’s eyes widen for a moment, a sympathetic nod given as the sentence trailed off because he understood now what he always suspected but never pried about.
He figured Bruce had feelings of some kind for Miss Kyle but of course, his boy had chosen duty over feelings, just as he was contemplating doing himself. 
It was a clever way of calling him out on it he had to give him that. 
“I know you’re worried she’ll get hurt and I know you’re scared she won’t want anything to do with us when she finds out but I see how much you trust her, so I trust her and I think she’s safest close to us. You don’t have to lie to her, tell her just enough for now and we can keep her protected from it for as long as possible, you can tell her on your own terms.” 
His heart quickened, mulling it over, pacing again without realizing, struck by the sincerity in Bruce’s words.
The weight in telling him he didn’t need to make this sacrifice, carefully guiding a stubborn old man out of his head and setting him straight again, because the answer could be that simple for once even if everything else wasn’t. 
He’d be an even greater fool not to try just because it might be hard, knowing already that he’d regret not giving you every bit that he had to give out of fear and his own self doubt, so with a cautious nod he was agreeing, ribs loosening with a breath he felt like he’d been holding in for ages.
Nightfall was approaching now and Bruce had since snuck off after a little more discussion and a flat toned promise to eat dinner before going anywhere else, leaving Alfred sat at his desk with a newfound clarity to things. 
This made sense to him now, the swirl of thoughts racing through his brain. 
He knew how he felt about you and could admit he wanted to be with you, hands buzzing as he racked his mind for how to tell you, because it had been weeks now and he didn’t want to waste anymore time, he needed you to know he was serious and wanted a relationship and by god he hoped you felt the same. 
An idea came to mind on the tail end of his thoughts, Bruce’s earlier words echoing as he pulled out a few pages of his favorite writing paper, adjusting his glasses quickly before he picked up a pen and began writing.
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The first snowfall in Gotham was just beginning to blanket the streets, snowflakes melting against the frosty windows while you got bundled up to go out on a date!
A small window of time opened up over the weekend and Alfred had taken the reins on it, telling you he wanted to take you out again, properly and his pick this time, promising to plan something he thinks you’d really enjoy.
You swear your heart skips when you see his sleek car pull up outside your apartment, feet already carrying you down the steps to meet him outside. 
“Hello, love. You look beautiful!” that smooth, accented voice causing your cheeks to burn despite the chill of the snow falling around you. 
Running into his arms he embraced you tight, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple before getting you tucked into the car.
“Thank you, same to you, handsome. I missed you.” your wistful sigh came softly as you put your seatbelt on, already trying to figure out where he was taking you. 
“I missed you too, more than you know. Ready?” His warm hands caressed your knee for a moment, squeezing as you gave him an answering nod. 
The car rumbled to life and you were off, the heat turned up comfortably while you slipped into an easy conversation that continued until he was pulling into a parking spot, one of the quieter downtown streets lit up and glittering through the window. 
“Are you treating me to pastries and hot chocolate right now? Is that the date because if so please say yes!” your excited shiver earned you a laugh when you step out, his cane in one hand and your own clasped around his arm, squeezing his bicep as you walked towards the sweet smelling cafe up ahead. 
“As many pastries as you’d like, darling…I also may have ordered us a special dessert ahead of time too.” his sheepish grin warming your heart. 
He was so impossibly sweet there were times where you wondered what you ever did to deserve him.
“Ooh that sounds fancy, are we celebrating something?” the innocent question hung opened ended as he got the door for you. 
“You could say that, yeah.” 
-
Later, foamy whipped cream lined the edge of your lips from sipping on the hot chocolate you’d taken to-go, Alfred kissing away the sugar quickly after even when you giggled out a protest against his lips.
Rounding the street together, it felt so nice to be this close and receiving his affection, holding hands as you walked.
You found it so cute how he checked to make sure no one was watching before he ducked down for another quick kiss.
Just as cute as when he sat next to you at the cafe, a reassuring hand resting over your thigh, absentmindedly playing with your fingers and the hem of your outfit while you indulged your sweet tooth.
That special dessert he ordered turning out to be one he used to love when he was younger, his wish in sharing it here to make a new memory of it with you.
Oh, he couldn’t be real.
That effortless charm was getting him everywhere and the delight didn’t seem to stop because now you were in front of a quaint, cozy looking bookstore, his arm already at the small of your back guiding you inside. 
The smell of ink and paper filled your nose, a homey feeling in your chest browsing over the shelves; your first bookstore date together.
You couldn’t have been more excited, glancing at Alfred every few seconds, all smiles and bright eyes pointing out familiar titles and old favorites, reading the descriptions of interesting looking novels together, a real and definite shift in the air. 
Something in the eye contact was different…heavier, a weight to it that made you feel short of breath.
Almost achingly so, your body was acutely aware of his closeness to you, the soft wrap of his hand over your waist, how his shoulder bumped into yours when you wandered over to the romance novel section, it made you feel like your chest was caving in, and you weren’t even afraid.
No, you were happy to let yourself collapse into the feeling.
The bookstore made you feel a little like you were in a romance novel yourself, faded patterned rugs draping the wood floors, soft fairy lights hanging above you and the rows of books and haphazard stacks laid out in armchairs all felt whimsical, romantic; perfect for two bookworms turned lovers.
“This is part two of my date plans, you know. Whatever books catch your eye, I’ll buy for you, my treat.
As if he didn’t aready have the key to your heart. 
“Even if the book is an erotic novel?” you beamed back at him, smiling at the one he’d picked up off the shelf you were peering at, recognizing the cover anywhere.
“Oh especially if it’s that.” 
“How crass, Mr. Pennyworth, I would have thought you to be more of a Shakespeare guy!” you joke and pluck the book from his hands, thumbing through a few pages.
“I most certainly am but I do have skills in other areas too, darling. It’s important to be a well rounded reader.” 
He says it with an edge to his voice that leaves you speechless, your brain lagging just a second behind as he leads you further into the store, a beeline made to the poetry section. 
-
A short while later and both of your arms were balancing a stack of books each, you trailing behind Alfred as he lead him you to a secluded spot in one of the reading corners in the store’s second level so now you were sitting side by side, musing over your book picks for each other. 
True to his words, he’d bought you all the books of your choosing along with some he’d gotten just for himself too; a photobook of the English countryside, another about hand to hand fighting and then a few books about chemical compounds finding their way into the mix too.
You didn’t know he had an interest in chemistry but didn’t question it, forgetting about it a moment later when he pulled out a book he found of different black burlesque dancers through history, a little gasp filling the quiet space when he told he got it as a gift for you.
As if you needed anymore reasons to fall for him further, all this was taking the cake.
Hours had gone by, the two of you huddled together sharing stolen kisses in between the last sips of hot chocolate and the turning of pages, truly feeling like you were in a world apart with him, like whatever was happening out there in the world couldn’t touch you, at least not here. 
Heat tingled on your lips when you kissed him again, a little more soundly this time, showing him just how much you missed him. 
It had been too long.
Remembering that the last time you’d been intimate like this was the morning of the attack, part of you wishing you could be in his bed right now, spread out underneath him, taking him until you were making a mess of his sheets but the other part of you didn’t want to leave this moment in time with him, a whole different level of intensity to this all on it’s own.
You’d never felt so connected, so close in your life, so much unspoken sentiment in the way his larger hands were grasping your much smaller ones, holding them warmly before his forehead was pressing against yours.
“I have one more thing to give to you, sweetheart.” 
Your eyes fluttered open then, the gentleness in his whisper wrecking you, sitting patiently as he moved back a bit. Watching with bated breath, he fished an envelope out of the inside pocket of his coat and placed it in your hands, leaving the rest up to you. 
The way your heart was clammoring in your chest and your own anticipation kept you from noticing the nervous jitter of his hands, seconds feelings like minutes while you unfolded the paper, realizing he’d written on it, recognizing his handwriting right away.
With trembling hands you brushed your fingers over where he had written your name, words beginning to sink in as you read the letter addressed to you. 
My love, 
I fear there will never be enough words to describe how dear you are to me but I will try my best to write them all here. I’ve never felt so sure about someone before, about the way you make me feel and how vast those feelings are. The morning we met I had a feeling that there must have been a reason we crossed paths and now I know there was. You must know I couldn’t sleep that night, because all I could think about was if you were okay and if you had made it home safely. I just couldn’t get you out of my head and then there you were again at The Magpie wanting to talk to me and I knew then I was the luckiest man in the world.
Glancing up from the page you locked eyes with Alfred for just a moment, a perfect mirror of your feelings reflected in them. 
Never in a million years did I think I’d ever feel this way again but I do and I need you to know that being a man worthy of your affections is all that I want to be. You were meant to shine as brightly as you do, my darling, I never want you to feel as if you have to hide your talent or temper the big, wondrous ideas you have. They’re all I ever want to hear. You do in fact have my heart, love, as much of it as you want to take, it is yours. 
Tears welled along your lashes as you kept reading, everything in you softened by each line, your heart opening, hatching, blooming at his words, hearing how much he felt for you too. 
…things are less than ideal right now I know, and there are things you don’t know about me yet either, things in my past and certain things in the present that I want to tell you about but have to be careful of first, your safety is always a priority for me but I do plan to tell you in time. Darling, I know how I feel about you and I think and hope you feel the same about me. I cherish every second I get to spend with you, there’s so much I want to show you, so much I want to tell you and do with you by my side if you’ll have me. 
There was one more page left, filled with more words that made your stomach flip with butterflies, those tears threatening to fall because what he was saying was everything you had hoped for and then some.
And you think you understood what he meant about needing to be careful with certain secrets before he could speak about them, thinking on your own situation with Penguin—you still hadn't told Alfred those men where his that had been sent to follow you.
It was wonder how your heart was still inside your chest at this rate, a tear breaking free to fall down your cheek as you finished reading, lingering where he signed his name.
Yours always,
x Alfred. 
The letter lay in your lap as strong hands- no longer trembling- reached for you again, brushing the stray tear from your cheek. 
Your face was cupped so tenderly in his hands you almost started to cry for real, never knowing it could be like this, that you could be told and shown in so many ways that you were wanted and adored.
“I know we haven't really discussed this yet and so much has gotten in the way but I want to say it here and now, I would really love it if you wanted to be mine. Admittedly it has been some time since I’ve dated anyone and I am rusty, you’ll have to forgive me if this could have been better but I do want to be with you, I have all this time.” 
“Oh, Alfred. Yes, of course I want to be yours! I’d love nothing more. And shut up, this was a perfect way to tell me, you’re not rusty at all, old man.” 
You sniffled with a laugh, leaning in to press your forehead against his again, both of you sinking into the moment together, feeling tethered to one another now, connected in a way you hadn’t been before. 
Things had just gotten very real and for as much as you’d pondered and daydreamed of this moment, you didn’t feel an ounce of fear at the gravity of feelings before you.
Trusting in Alfred’s words, ones he’d actually taken the time to spell out to you on paper so you could keep the reminder of his devotion forever, the gesture easing any worry there might have been. 
Snow was still falling outside as you sat together for just a little while longer, Alfred pretending not to notice you sneaking giddy glances at him while you gazed over the letter one more time before stowing it safely away in your bag. 
Your hand finds his, fingers lacing together while you rest your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes contently for a moment when you feel his cheek press against you.
The odds still seemed grim, the whole city on edge with so much uncertainty left on the horizon, cause enough for isolation and the walls around people’s hearts to come up but not here, not with you and Alfred.
You felt stronger for it, having faith that whatever was coming your way in the time ahead, you’d have him by your side and that gave you all the hope in the world.
---
A/N: Soo they finally got their moment! I actually began this chapter with the ending of it in mind already, I was listening to the chapter title song in the playlist and was like oh this is where it would play, this is the moment where he admits his feelings and asks her to be his girl
There were times where writing this chapter was such a challenge but also really exciting and wholesome too! Hope it gives you all the feels it gave me and I'm giving kisses to those who pick up on all the little details in this too, thank you so much for your patience while I write this series and for all the love!
(dividers used are by the wonderful @saradika 💫 )
Let me know what you think!! Thank you for reading as always!
some tags, no pressure! @eupheme @squidlywiddly87 @the-eyes-of-andyserkis @tarabyte3 @tarrenterror25 @ozarkthedog @peachyteabuck @unrefinedmusings @aislupu @mariahthelioness29 @flamingdisputes @ayoarticulate @fluffyprettykitty @kneelforloki @allaboardthereadingrailroad @xoxovivarecs
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The Midnight Relief - Part 4 (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) NSFW
Summary: Your relationship with Prince Aemond has changed, so much that you tend to forget not only who you are but who he truly is.
Tags: SMUT, Porn with Plot (sort of), Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Fingering, Squirting, Breeding kink, Dubious Consent, Targcest (Reader is Daemon Targaryen’s bastard), Angst and Fluff.
Author's note: I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting. I have been very busy with work lately so I couldn't find time to focus on writing this story. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter nevertheless. Next chapter will probably be the last one. Tell me how you imagine the end of this fan fiction. And please do not hesitate to like or reblog this chapter (it is the best reward for any writer)
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         Your eyes opened slowly at dawn, woken up by the first rays that shone through the large lancet windows. They did not dazzle you – they were too orange and dim for that - but you blinked a few times with a smile upon your face, not because of the light but to make sure the blurry pale silhouette that was slowly taking shape before your sleepy and lidded eyes would not disappear as quick as dew in the morning sun. Aemond looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was as if the ferocious aura he carried within him all day long disappeared during the night to allow him a short moment of serenity. Seeing him like this was surprising and unexpected. You always thought he would be the kind of man to sleep with a frown and with his fists clenched … and possibly a dagger underneath his pillow.       You chuckled silently at this idea, finding it more amusing than formidable and you wrapped your naked body in the soft sheet with a happy grin on your face to enjoy the view and the comfort of Aemond’s bed a little longer. You had never slept in a bed like this one. All you knew were poor thin mattresses on the floor and scratchy patched blankets that couldn’t keep you warm at night. But you definitely could get used it: the mattress as soft as a pile of delicate feathers, the fine cotton sheets so pleasant to the skin and the naked handsome prince sleeping by your side. They could almost make you believe you belonged here and not in a humid crowded dorm. If only the whole world was just this bed. Life would be so much easier.
You didn’t know how long you gazed at Aemond, your fingertips connecting the few moles on his milky chest by tracing invisible lines like an astronomer would draw constellations, but when you began to hear the growing hubbub in the corridors outside the prince’s room, you thought it might be time for you to leave your waking dream.         You instinctively pecked Aemond’s shoulder and reluctantly abandoned the warm sheets to get out of the bed and go back to your harsh reality. But before you could put a toe on the stone floor, a sleepy raspy voice stopped you.     “May I ask where you’re going? I did not dismiss you and I certainly did not order you to stop what you were doing.”       You glanced briefly over your shoulder and beamed away from Aemond’s sight, amused by the domesticity that warmed your heart.   
     Your relationship had changed greatly since the One-Eyed Targaryen’s return from Storm’s End a week ago. It had become gentler and more lighthearted and it had made you forget on many occasions that you were a mere serving girl whom the prince could treat like his personal whore.
All the moments spent in his company - whether they were in his bed or not - had become almost customary. Aemond would not summon you on a whim anymore to take it out on your cunt after a rough day (and he had had many rough days recently), nor would he dismiss you with nonchalance after being done with your service – sexual or not.   Every day, he would find a way to spend some time in your company. In the morning he would greet you with a smile à la Aemond, faint and controlled but genuine, talk to you as you would do his hair and then wait for you to finish cleaning his rooms before leaving for training only to find you again in the afternoon always in his chambers where he would study and occasionally glance at you playing the lute from above his book. Then after his usual evening on Vhagar’s back he would summon you again to bring him his supper and spend the rest of the night with you by the fire and then in his bed in which he would hump you over and over again until the hour would become too late.         Both of you loved and thrived in these new habits for they gave you comfort and a way out of your lives that were doomed to become darker.     A black threat was looming over King’s Landing. You both could feel it but for now you would ignore it and enjoy your new shared frivolity as much as possible.
“It’s dawn.” You declared, knowing your fellow servants would stare at you and probably ask nosy questions on your whereabouts and your absence in your dorm last night once you’d go back to them. You had never slept elsewhere before.       “Indeed, and it’s been dawn for a while now.” Aemond agreed, still lying in his bed with his eye still closed which made you wonder how long he had been pretending to be still asleep. “How long have you been awake?”             “Long enough to find your staring annoying.” He grumbled.               “But my touching intoxicating.” You added as you chuckled and then you scanned the bed quickly to find your undergarments. You had to get dressed.                 But before you could find them, Aemond pounced on you by surprise. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you against his warm solid chest so that he could lay you down in the bed again.         You squealed at first but then giggled as he handled you and trapped you underneath his pale naked body and a tent of white sheets.         “Touch me more. Your prince commands you.”           “The prince can touch himself.” You retorted with funny defiance that Aemond pretended to glare at to keep his callous reputation intact. But he could not trick you.           “My hands are busy at the moment.” His grip around your wrists tightened briefly to make you understand what he meant by that and you tried to escape his hold to send him a similar message.   “And mines are captive.”     “Hmm… Then what about your perfect lips? Do you think they can give me a soft kiss?” You chuckled as Aemond approached your face with the intention to claim your mouth. His heart-shaped lips brushed yours softly over and over again to make them reciprocate his affection. So, you parted your lips a bit and deliberately barely responded to his little pecks. You knew he would not appreciate your lack of submission and passion but there was a reason behind your restraint. You wanted to tease Aemond until he would turn his softness into something more blazing, which he ultimately did. His kisses multiplied and quickly became more frustrated and desperate, furiously begging you to just respond to his lips and give him what he craved.             You eventually did and pulled at his plump flesh with your mouth. You felt his proud victory in his smirk as he leant into the kiss, unaware of the little mischief you had in mind. Gloating in silence, you let Aemond lose himself in the kiss and when he finally released your wrists to spread your legs and get comfortable between your thighs, your hand slid down his body and suddenly grabbed his semi-hard cock as you bit his lower lip. “Ow!” He complained, more surprised than hurt, his pink flesh still in between your teeth, and then when you finally let go of him, he grabbed your wrists again to pin then down above your head. “I said a soft kiss.”         “Really? I thought you said rough.” You joked as you tried to bite him again. This time Aemond saw it coming and he recoiled to frown at you even though he was as amused as you were. He genuinely liked that frivolous wild side of you and he secretly wished he had discovered it way sooner. It would have cheered his days up.   “You’re about to get it rough if you don’t behave.” He threatened and you sank back in the mattress, pretending to be impressed even if in truth your eyes were sparkling with pride and mischief and a cheeky smirk was discreetly tugging at your lips.         “I have to go back to my toils.”       “I forbid you.” The prince immediately retorted before giving you a half-serious look that meant ‘don’t you dare bite me this time’. You giggled almost silently and Aemond nestled his face in your neck to lay a few humid kisses on your warm skin.           “What about your morning training?”       “I like this routine better.” He mumbled between two pecks that made you squirm.     “I might not be as educated as you are but I don’t think you can call this a routine since it is the first time it happens.”     “We’ll make it a routine then.” His answers came all so quick you wondered if he even put some thought into them or if he was simply acting reckless again just like last night when he made you stay. “I would love to wake up in your presence more often… every day in fact.”         “In my presence or in something else?” You teased, conscious of his cock growing harder between your thighs         “In anything you wish to offer me.” He purred in your neck.         “No, Aemond. What do you want?”            
For reasons you couldn’t explain, your question had come out with more seriousness than intended. When you felt the Targaryen prince’s lips freeze on your skin and his body become still against yours, you realised that your words had not fallen on deaf ears.           Aemond looked up at you with sad puppy eyes only you were allowed to see but deep down he was grateful. No one had ever asked him what he wanted, never in his young life, because what he wanted did not matter. What mattered was duty. Duty above all else.       “So many things I can’t have.”         Hidden with you under the tent made of white sheets - a tiny world in which there was just you and him and no one else to hear him - he wished to enumerate them all, tell you about his desire for recognition and love, about his thirst for power and secret aspiration to the Iron Throne. He also wished to admit that he did not enjoy being an asset for his family anymore, that he did not want to marry Floris Baratheon and that the recent time with you had made him realise there was only one woman he craved to have forever not only in his bed but by his side. However, as usual, he kept everything to himself. His pitiful confessions could wait. They didn’t have their place in that lovely cotton nest you two had built together.   “But right now, I want your surrender.” He pressed his cock to your core to change the subject but you still had enough control to keep the conversation going.   “We both know you’re too stub…persistent to truly renounce something that someone said you couldn’t have.”   “Were you about to call me stubborn? You’re insulting your prince, now?” He humoured. “How is that an insult?”       “You tell me. You corrected yourself.”       You pondered over your words for a short instant, wondering how you had almost let the word ‘stubborn’ slip. Prince Aemond had the reputation to be easily offended, fierce and prompt to violence and unpredictable outbursts. That’s mostly why you had always weighted your words in his presence. And yet today, you almost didn’t think before speaking and he had welcomed your familiarity with humour, not with the reprisal your old self would have expected. Did your relationship truly change that much? Did he change?     “You’re stubborn.” You finally dared say with a smile when you realized you could say the word without fear. “… but I like your stubbornness.”   Aemond chuckled briefly and he nestled his face back in your neck with an amused smile on his young face.     “Hmm … What else do you like?” He purred as he rubbed his nose on your skin before laying small kisses along your throat and you sighed deeply.             That felt extremely good but you were aware that the goal of his affection was not only your pleasure. It was a very cunning way to make you yield and give your prince what he craved but would not take from you without your submission.         “Your cleverness.” You declared and you cleared your voice as you squirmed lightly under Aemond’s soft pecks.       “And?” You could hear the mischief in his voice as his hands ventured down your sides and his mouth slid down to your chest, leaving a humid track on its way.         You couldn’t answer the prince. Your mind was too busy focusing on his ministrations. You wanted more.     Aemond reached your breasts rather quickly and you inhaled deeply, your eyes staring at his face buried between your mounts. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you could feel your breath quicken.   Instinctively you spread your legs to welcome Aemond between your thighs as soon as he began kissing your breasts one by one. You could tell he dearly enjoyed their softness as he couldn’t stop pecking them and nuzzling in their flesh. When his lips found their way to one of your hard nipple, you bit your lower lip to prevent yourself from moaning, but deep down you were just begging Aemond to just capture the little bud and roll his tongue around it.       Your silence drew the prince’s attention and he looked up at you. Your resistance didn’t please him. It toyed with its impatience and he hated that. But the thought of breaking it was exciting and he didn’t mind a little challenge, especially when he was sure of his victory. “Answer my question, starlight.” He ordered; his lips close to your nipple. “What else do you like about your prince?”       The tip of his tongue tickled the hard bud and you instantly whimpered. Your thighs clenched around Aemond in a vain attempt to soothe the delicious ache building in your pussy. You were getting wet and your arousal was screaming at you to just yield to your prince.       “Your boldness.” You hissed and Aemond rewarded your compliance by planting his mouth on your nipple. This time you couldn’t keep your lustful moan to yourself and a long plaintive ‘ah’ escaped your lips. Aemond chuckled with pride, your teat still in his mouth. He was taking real pleasure in playing with you.   “Tell me more.” He commanded as his hand slid down your stomach to reach your folds. You knew where this was going and you did not wish to struggle anymore. You were craving what was coming as much as Aemond.       “I love your passion.” You admitted, rolling your hips to guide the Targaryen’s fingers and he cupped your cunt to stop you from moving. “I decide what to do to you.” He roared and you froze. You silently looked at each other deep in the eyes for a moment and when your obedience finally convinced Aemond he slid a finger in your hole.       You sighed immediately and your head sank in the pillow, the heavenly sensations washing over you. “That’s it. Submit to be. Be a good girl.” Aemond purred as he fingered you slowly to make you yearn for more. “Give yourself to me completely.” And he caught one of your mounts and put your nipple back between his lips to suck on it greedily and nibble it with his teeth gently..     You wrapped your legs around Aemond in a desperate attempt at keeping him against you, loving his hunger and his burning caresses too much to let him go. That’s when you noticed him slowly rubbing his hard cock against the mattress, an instinctive and lustful gesture to certainly ease the ache in his loins. He craved to hump you and you could help but to find his desperate need terribly arousing.               “Aemond.” You whispered to catch his attention, wishing to help him with his painful hardness, but he was too busy sucking at your teat and fingering you to react.   You caressed his hair slowly – how soft it was – and then let your hand slide to his jaw that you brushed delicately with your fingertips. The prince responded to your touch with a grunt and he tightened his grip around your breasts to pull on your nipple even more, almost as if he was a child refusing to let go of his mother’s breasts. He was completely hypnotized by that little bit of flesh in his mouth.           So, you abandoned your idea and let him carry on.
Somehow, his finger managed to find a never-explored area in your cunt that made you abruptly arch your back, clench your thighs and squeal like never before. It surprised Aemond and he didn’t take long to find out the reason of your sudden reaction. He slid a new finger in your drenched cunt and reached the same spot again. You grabbed his shoulders, digging your nails in the flesh, as you moaned loudly and Aemond curled his fingers.       He let go of your breasts to kneel between your thighs and watch your body shake and squirm under his touch as his digits pumping in and out of you repeatedly massaged the little spongy place within you that he had just discovered.       He was simply fascinated and your reactions were too beautiful and enticing for him to stop. If anything, they were encouraging and he wanted more of them.           “That’s it.” He whispered. Then he put his thumb on your swollen clit to rub it, knowing the touch you make you scream louder. He wasn’t wrong.           You cried out. “Aemond, please.”   “Please what?”         You didn’t know what exactly but you begged. “Faster … harder.”           He indulged you and quickened the pace, going all the way out of you and then right back in again. And soon, your body tensed, your toes curled and you grabbed the sheets as you screamed all the pleasure you felt.       Your orgasm was an uncontrollable explosion whose noise could not be contained by the tent of soft sheets above your head. It burst like wildfire, destroying the unknown dyke inside of you as if it was made of the most fragile material. It squirted all your pleasure out of you and drenched your thighs and Aemond’s hand and bed. “Fuck!” You cried out as you tried to push the prince away, astonished and rather embarrassed by what was happening to you.             But the Targaryen didn’t care. On the contrary he seemed to genuinely like it considering the amused satisfied smirk on his face as he kept relentlessly toying with your g-spot to empty you even more. “Hmm” He laughed and continued to finger you hard as you were still dazed and confused. His eye was dark and full of lust and you could tell he wanted more.             “I don’t think I c—” It turned out you could and another surprising spurt came out of your cunt making you whimper and wet yourself and Aemond once more.     “Seven heavens, I love this.” Aemond giggled darkly, proud of his doing. “But I definitely have to hump you now.”
He brutally let go of your cunt and flipped you over to grab your hips and bring your arse to his pelvis. He slapped your cheek, making your squeal and squirm and immediately plunged his hard in your drenched cunt. It slid in so easily the prince felt the need to growl. His fingers digging in your flesh, he kept you firmly in place to initiate a series of hammering and almost-punishing quick thrusts that reflected the infuriating yet arousing lust he was feeling.         You almost cursed because of his ardour but only a breathless gasp followed by a succession of plaintive moans managed to escape your lips. Bent under Aemond, at the mercy of his relentless drilling, you buried your face into the drenched mattress to muffle the sounds he took great pleasure to get out of you.                       “You like this, don’t you, my lewd starlight?” He roared, his voice dark and obscene.   You cried out as you nodded frantically and he pushed himself more into you, so deep you felt his testicles brush your soaked pussy then repeatedly slap your swollen clit that was so happy to meet them. The music of your wet skin meeting was enchanting and you arched your back to embrace Aemond’s smacking hips even more, thankful for the pleasure he was giving you.     “Do you want your prince’s seed inside you?” He asked between gritted teeth. The question was not a surprise. Aemond had stamina but such an enthusiastic pace could make any hardy man empty himself quickly.       You nodded again and dug your nails in the cotton sheets to take what he was so close to give you. But his rhythm slowed a bit and he took a fistful of your hair to bring you against his chest. You mewled because of the slight pain but it was nothing in comparison to Aemond’s cock pulsing in the deepest region of your cunt.       “I didn’t hear you, flower. Do you want your prince’s seed inside you or not?” He repeated in your ear and you felt your walls clench around him.           “Yes…” You admitted with difficultly and you heard him chuckle with dark satisfaction. “… but not today, please… Last time the moon tea gave me an awful stomach ache.” “Isn’t the pain worth the pleasure?” He purred as he took your breasts in his palms and he resumed his hammering.           You almost crumbled under his merciless pelvis but the prince held you back, keeping you still between his thighs with his hands tightly wrapped around your mounts, your back against his sweating strong chest.       “Aemond … please.” You begged when you understood he would not do as you had asked but once again, he didn’t listen and continued his pounding, chasing his release.         “Just let me give it you, starlight. I want to breed you. I need to breed you. I want that soft belly to carry my child. Please.” His dark voice sounded almost desperate as if his reckless desire to spurt his seed inside you was vital to him.   Aemond’s teeth met your shoulders, biting the flesh hard enough to leave a mark, and his strong arms wrapped around your chest, holding you tight against his torso, on hand pressed on your breasts the other on your lower belly to keep himself deep and you still. His thrusting slowed down but became harder as he began to grunt furiously in your shoulder. Then his muffled noises became plaintive growls similar to whimpers but more animalistic as he finally came deep inside your cunt, splashing your walls with every drop of his seed. When there was nothing left, Aemond stopped thrusting. Exhausted and silent, he remained panting and nestled against your back, his arms still around you and his pulsating cock still buried in your hole, refusing to pull out to make sure you’d keep every drop of semen inside of you.   He kissed your shoulder, right where he had bitten you and you smiled, tired just like him. “You never listen, do you?” “You said it yourself. I’m stubborn.”           You giggled and it made Aemond chuckle in your neck. His laugh was tired but soft and peaceful, almost childish. Moved by his gentleness and in need for comfort, you turned your head to kiss him. He let you and responded to your peck with tenderness.
But then your eyes widened in horror as you noticed a small child standing by the door of the prince's chambers, his blue look as appalled as yours. You alerted Aemond, screaming his name in panic, as you hastily pushed him away from you to cover your nakedness with the sheets. You truly hoped the boy had not seen anything of your and Aemond’s shared lust but deep down you knew the truth just as you knew this silly optimism was just a way to not give in to alarm.             You stared at the boy, terrorized and already silently begging him to forget everything his innocence – now shattered for ever - had witnessed but his blue eyes fixed upon you as if he was a fawn facing a sharp arrow were telling you he would never. You opened your mouth to say something but then he quickly turned around to rush out of Aemond’s rooms.   That’s when Aemond jumped out of bed, put on his royal black and green robe made of the finest cotton to run after the boy, the dragon embroidered in the back flying after its prey with deadly purpose.             You knew you should have followed him with the same haste but the fear growing inside you was making all your movements slow and heavy.
“Where are you going like that, snooping rat?” Aemond asked as he caught the boy by his skinny arm in the corridor and pushed him against the stone wall.           The little servant did not answer, terrified by the gigantic and formidable scarred prince that had just trapped him and that was now staring at him with impatience and dark amusement.   “Who told you to come in here?”   “S-s-ser Criston, my prince.” He finally mumbled, trembling like a leaf in a cold wind.   Aemond chuckled briefly, unsurprised by the revelation and he knelt in front of the boy to have a better look at him. He was small and sickly with sandy blond hair and pale skin. His cheeks were hollowed and he had dark circles under his puffy eyes. He had certainly not eaten or slept properly in a while, just like most serving children working in the keep. But somehow, it was another face that came to Prince Aemond's mind as he observed the boy, a face he had seen in a mirror for years. His. “How old are you?”   “Ten … my prince.”   “Hmm … You don’t look ten.” Aemond declared with a faint smile but that smile was far from kind. “You’re small, puny … a bit like I was when I was a child. A chance I was feisty and bold. Tell me, are you bold?”       The boy sensed the threat in the prince’s question and he shook even more. He crossed his legs, suddenly feeling the need to pee growing in his ragged trousers just like the terror in his empty stomach.
That’s when you entered the corridor slowly and quietly, your shivering hands clinging to the red fabric of your faded servant dress. Standing a few steps away from the boy and the prince, you wanted to intervene. You wanted to come closer and stop Aemond. You wanted to free the poor child and comfort him. But a selfish voice in your head was telling you to reconsider your boldness and your thirst for justice. You've too much to lose, girl. “No of course not, bold boys don’t run away like cowards.” Aemond declared.     The boy glanced at you from afar, his eyes shining with tears and pleading for your help. But you were just as terrified and paralysed as he was right now and the voice in your head was once more ordering you to stay put.  So you stared at the boy definitely sorry and you looked down at your feet in shame.   “Do you know what happened to me when I was ten?” The child looked back at Aemond and shook his head. In response, the prince pointed at the sapphire in his eye socket and the kid stared at the jewel with horror. “This happened. And you see the boy who did this to me, King Viserys, my own father, never punished him for it. If I do something as awful to you, a poor meaningless serving boy, if I take let’s say your tongue to make sure you don’t repeat what you saw in my rooms, King Aegon will do exactly as King Viserys. He will not care about you and he will definitely not punish me. So, there is nothing that can prevent me from making sure you won’t be able to tell a soul about what happened. Do you understand that?”           Your eyes widened and you felt your heart skip a beat. You couldn't believe what you had just heard. Aemond couldn't possibly say that, not to a kid. And yet, there was this tiny reasonable part of you, the one that did not love, that knew he could. “Aemond.” You called out to make him stop and reconsider but your voice was barely louder than a whisper. But this time you were not scared for yourself, you were scared for that kid whose trousers were now getting wetter and wetter between his thighs.           “No child would wish to be so atrociously maimed; don’t you agree? So, promise you’ll forget what you saw and that you won’t tell anyone ever.” The serving boy nodded quickly and without thinking, his mouth tightly shut as if to protect his little tongue.       “Say it. You still have your tongue.” Aemond encouraged.     “I will forget what I saw and I won’t tell anyone ever” The boy promised, his teeth chattering. “Good lad. Now go tell Ser Criston I’m on my way.”         Aemond stood up and as soon as he stepped back, the boy ran away as fast as he could, occasionally clanking back to make sure he was not followed or in any danger.           His frightened attitude made Aemond gloat with pride and he looked back at you with a smirk. However, your reaction was not the one he expected. Instead of a look of gratitude or relief, you walked back to his room, looking disappointed and ashamed of him and of yourself.
Aemond frowned and quickly went back to his rooms to ask for explanations. “Why the look?” He asked with a harsh voice.     You were putting on your white apron, fumbling with the ties in your back. You couldn't stay with him any longer not after what you had witnessed, what you had allowed him to do.         “He’s a child. Did you really need to go that far?” “I merely intimidated him. He will get over it. Trust me I know." You shook your head, knowing all too well what he meant by that. But you still couldn't understand how he could take pleasure in treating boys the same way he was once treated, as if they were powerless and insignificant. If anything he should feel sorry for them. "Besides, he left unscathed, didn’t he? Doesn't that rejoice you?” You eyed at Aemond, baffled. He didn’t seem to realize how unsympathetic he was. “He was terrified. He peed himself!” You almost shouted, hoping he would understand the situation he had put the small child in. “You didn’t have to threaten him. A kind explanation even a coin would have been enough to keep him silent.” But it was like talking to a wall. “Nothing works better than fear, trust me.” He casually said as he walked towards you to take the ties of your apron in his hands. You tensed as he did but let him play with the white fabric. "And if that bothered you so much you should have said something." You looked down in shame once more, hating yourself for your selfishness and your fear, while Aemond unknotted your serving uniform sensually, foolishly believing you could desire him right now. “Can’t you understand I’ve done this for us?” He whispered before placing a kiss on your temple. “Have you? Or have you done it to save your reputation?”         “Why should it matter?" He replied as he stroked your belly and caressed your neck with his warm lips. "Either way I’ve still saved your pretty neck.”                   You hissed and brutally escaped his embrace, finding him suddenly repulsive and gross. You glared at him and he stared back at you with an expression of utter shock and disbelief. You wanted to say something, something meaningful that would move him but there was nothing you could say, nothing he would understand. He was a prince of the seven kingdoms and you were simply a serving girl, someone ... no, something that did not matter to the eyes of noble rich men like him. You had no power over him. You were nothing but a toy to him and you should have never believed otherwise. So you walked away in silence.   “Where are you going?” Aemond shouted. “Back to my poor meaningless serving girl life.”     “YN! Come back here! Your prince commands you!”          
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ele-sme · 8 months
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Can you write something in Spider pov towards Jake? since today is his birthday? thanks.
ok
Tw: Spider is 7, not a real warning but you guys could get confused, also Neytiri is nice to him.
this is late sorry.
it was a cloudy morning,
Spider stirs in his cozy bed, the diffused light casting a soft glow. Torn between dreams and the day ahead, he rubs his sleepy eyes. With a determined sigh, he threw off the covers, his tiny feet meeting the cool floor of his room.
He wanted to stay in bed some other hours, the day was perfect for staying in bed some other hours, but his duty tugged him upright into the embrace of the cloudy day.
well, to be honest, it wasn't exactly a duty, but he promised his friends he would have been there.
Today was their father birthday, Jake sully birthday, the olo'eyktan of the omatikaya clan and most importantly Toruk Matao.
Spider arrived to his bathroom and clumsily removed his pajama, to then enter in the shower.
he was still a little sleepy, so when the cold water hit him he let out a little yalp of surprise.
after getting used to the water, he started soaping his body, other kids his age couldn't clean themself without the help of their parents, so Spider felt proud of himself everytime he showered.
as his hairs got on his face, he wondered if he had time to at least braid them.
'would take me all day, so no...maybe just one?'
he had to take out his locks the day before so he could wash his hair, he planned to re doing them the day after with Kiri helping him.
' i wonder if Mr sully will like having me there or not '
he almost fell on his butt when he got out of the shower, with a towel he carefully dried himself, and he put one of his loincloths on.
the most pretty of them all, it was a gift from his friends for his seven birthday.
the green color made him almost invisible in the forest, and the soft cloth made him comfortable to run in the forest for as many hours as he wanted without getting any rash or worse.
Finally, he was ready to go out, he only needed his oxygen mask, which was on the counter of the kitchen.
grabbed it, put it on, made it work, and boom he was ready.
he opened the door to go out and...
his eyes, widened like saucers, gleamed with a mix of wonder and determination.
Bounding through the forest, Spider's agile movements mirror the creatures that share the same forest he does. his feet are barely making any sound, this was something Lo'ak taught him, but Neteyam perfected it on him.
during his path, he found an orchid, and c'mon how could he not play a little with it?
as he kneeled down to touch the plant, its tentacles touched his fingers, making him giggle before standing up again.
his laughter rang through the trees of the mighty forest, a joyful sound that seemed to draw energy from the very heart of it.
In the end that always a child laugh, and the great mother at hearing it could only rejoice.
after another five or ten minutes? - he didn't know the path was always so fun that the time seemed lost everytime he took the way- he was now inside the clan.
all around him, mans, womans and children doing things.
starting from cooking going then into playing.
as he now walked towards the olo'eyktan and family pod, some teens stopped to ruffle his hair, or to give him some fruits which he had to refuse.
finally, he could enter the pod of the family, and immediately Lo'ak was on top of him, hugging Spider like he hadn't seen the kid the day before.
his older siblings came along, hugging Spider so hard he finded hard to even breath.
but that was okay for him, for him those were his siblings, so they could give him as many scratches and bruises as they wanted.
as the hug finished, Spider noticed that Neytiri, his friend's mom, was cooking something.
she was always nice to him, unlike his foster mother.
she and him hadn't even spoken that week, and it was already Friday, probably his fault she was an adult she was probably too busy to talk to him.
"Sa'nu, sa'nu! Spider arrived!" Lo'ak yelled running towards his mother, who catched him immediately, laughing with him as she tickled her son a little.
"sempu, we invited Spider for your birthday!" Kiri said giggling, taking Spider's arm and practically dragging him towards her father.
Jake, who was putting the toys of his children away turned his head to face the kids before him.
"Good morning, Spider, how ar-" Jake stopped mid-sentence as he watched the boy with worried eyes.
"What sempul?" Neteyam who was next to Kiri asked, and Spider could feel Neytiri and Lo'ak's eyes on him.
he also felt a gasp coming from behind, it sounded to adult to be Lo'ak.
" ’evi, why is your hair wet?" Jake asked concerned.
oh right, Spider hair were wet, he still couldn't dry them alone, and no one called him over to dry them when he put the mask on or before he headed out.
' They are busy people probably they haven't noticed '
Kiri and Neteyam's hands were now on his head as to really confirm his hair were wet, then they both nodded to themselves as to confirm it between eachother.
"Come here, i dry them for you," Jake said, and Spider slowly walked over him, Jake made him sit down on his lap and with a towel started ruffling his hair.
Kiri and Neteyam in the meanwhile pick their toys back and started dancing around with them, as their ikan toys would really fly.
"Spider, yawntutsyìp, you shouldn't go around with wet hair, you might get a fever," Jake said, his words were soft, they made Spider's fear of him drift away.
he wasn't like his foster father, he was nice, even carrying, it was quite nice to spend time with him.
' I'm sure Mr Sully would never yell and Neteyam or Lo'ak for not washing the dishes, Nash is really mean then! '
"Here we go, all dry" Jake said putting the towel away, and now ruffling Spider hair with his own hands, which were way bigger the the boy head.
Spider turns his head to face Jake eyes, and the older man smile at him warmly...in the same way he smiles at Neteyam?
Jake's gaze is warm and steady. With this gentle smile, he leans down. his lips touch Spider's forehead, a tender exchange of emotions takes place in Spider's tiny brain
he feels trusted, and protected, Does his friends feel like this too when Jake kisses their heads?
Until now, only his friends had bestowed gentle pecks on his head, cheeks, and hands, little gestures of their close bond.
But never before had anyone else kissed him, and he felt a mix of curiosity and surprise. This was something new, something he hadn't experienced.
The touch of a fatherly kiss held a different kind of warmth from the ones of his friends, a sense of protection and care that felt unfamiliar yet comforting. It wasn't romantic or strange, just a simple gesture that made him feel accepted and loved.
Jake then looked at the kid again, the smile still on his face, but now he was holding Spider more tightly, making Spider be beside Jake's chest, he could even hear the man's heartbeat!
it was funny to listen at, tum tum tum tum, Spider never listened to a heartbeat.
he didn't know that above his head, there was a conversation between Jake and Neytiri, only that was with their eyes, him pleading, she thinking and in the end nodding.
and a fond smile appeared on both parents faces.
Spider's stomach rumbled.
" 'evi, what did you eat for having hunger this early in the day" Neytiri asked him.
and Spider shook his head "i didn't eat today" he said leaving Neytiri with half mouth open.
"Then you want some episoth seed?" Jake asked and Spider nodded vigorously.
the other three children lamented wanting some too, but their mother quickly shushed them up, saying if they ate more their bellies would explode.
this made Spider laugh, so much that he almost fell off Jake's lap, luckily his tight grab on him prevented that.
the rest of the day was spent with stories, and laugher and sweets!
a lot of sweets since it was a birtday.
Spider never felt more..loved in his entire life.
Jake and Neytiri even offered him to stay for the night!
and the night after too,
and then too
until Spider was basically living there.
for his eighth birthday Neytiri and Jake made him the most wholesome thing ever, going to live with them forever!
there is nothing that could be possibly made him go away from his family.
gosh i haven't wrote something in like an eternity, is nice.
i hope you liked anon.
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