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formosusiniquis · 3 months

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This one goes out to that old guy I saw at walmart yesterday loading up his pioneer woman cookware onto his motorcycle while enter sandman played

steddie | G | WC: 1154

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“Hey baby, can you?”

“No.”

Steve's sweet tone sours immediately returning to the much more familiar gently bitchy tone Eddie knows and loves. “You don't even know what I was gonna ask.”

“Twenty-five years of marriage, lawful and not, Sunshine. I know when you're about to ask me for some shit we don't need.”

“Why would I be calling you if we didn't need it?”

“Because if you needed it you would have told me about it when I said, ‘Stevie, sweetie, light of my life, sun to my dawn,’” he looks around trying to figure out where the hell they moved the oranges and why the produce section is never in the same configuration anytime he comes here. He makes eye contact with a kid wearing an artificially faded printing of his own tour merch looking at him with a starry eyed look of recognition not of the celebrity but of family.

“Did you forget where you were going with that old man?”

He decides he might as well put on a show, both halves of this conversation already know he's going to do what he's told. “‘Stevie, my one truth north, my muse, my reason to continue living, my dearest husband, I'm going to Walmart,’ I told you not but thirty minutes ago and asked if you needed me to get you anything and you said no.”

“Oh, you aren't going to monologue for your adoring public all the sweet names I called you?” Steve is amused, he can tell, he's always been able to tell. He's accepting this as his penance for not giving Eddie an actual grocery list when he left.

“Well dear heart I am in public, but if you think we can find another grocery store to go to after getting banned from this one. I guess there is the Kroger on the other side of town.” The kid laughs, tries to hide it behind their hand, but if Eddie has had anything in this life it's experience with teens eavesdropping on conversations they shouldn't be.

“Oh you're really hamming it up, huh, Teddy. Can I tell you what you're getting me yet or do you still have a couple minutes in your set?”

He's given up on oranges, moves on to the onion he actually came here for, the lone ingredient for dinner that he'd forgotten from his clicklist. If they want to actually have the roast tonight it needs to start soon. “What is it that you remembered we needed, oh song of my heart.”

“I already sent you the link so you get exactly what I want.”

It's just ominous enough of a non-answer that he pulls his phone out of his pocket, juggling it and the five things he'd already grabbed that weren't on his one item list. He doesn't have the time to regret not grabbing the cart he was sure he hadn't needed when he sees what he's been sent.

“I'm on my bike! Where am I going to put that?”

“I'm sorry, am I hearing you correctly? Was I right when I said, ‘Teddy bear, my stars, my bard-’”

“You aren't on speaker.”

“My beloved damsel in distress, maybe the motorcycle isn't the most efficient of midlife crisis vehicles. Aren't you going to want something with more trunk space, why don't you get a Caddy or a Bimmer for old times sake. And what did you say?”

“I don't recall.”

“Probably for the best wouldn't want you banned from Walmart, what would the tabloids say?”

“Nothing that would match your wit, Sweetheart. Does it have to be this one?”

“Yes, the plaid matches the kitchen remodel, so be a good boy and strap it to your bike. And remember we've still got one kid to put through school if she decides to go, don't bring home any strays with you. Do you need to do your encore now, baby?”

“I accept your quest, my dashing prince. I shall return home with my bounty posthaste.” Encore complete, audience still enraptured, Eddie dips into the sincere. It's been nearly thirty years together and he's not once ended a call without saying, “I love you.”

“Love you too, my knight in denim battle vest. I'll see you when you get home.”

The call ends with the usual dull toned beep beep, the playlist the call interrupted starts to filter back into his earbud. He realizes he's going to have to walk right past the kid to get to the side of the store with Steve's Instant Pot.

“Hear they're about to have a reunion tour,” he says gesturing down at the reprint of their Came Back Wrong Tour shirt. The faux-fading has left a crack through his own face at the bottom making him unrecognizable, not that he looks the same now as he did at 25. “Those old bands just don't know how to retire.”

“I think it's smart that they're playing up the recent tik tok fame.” The kid says, “No one's even seen their lead singer since the 90s and after their first national tour he'd started wearing that mask.”

It hurts a little bit the way the kid says 90s like it's some bygone era lost to time. Tries to appreciate instead how good the mask idea had been, he'd really been an innovator. “That was a pretty sweet gimmick, you think he'll bring it back? It's kind of Orville Peck's thing now isn't it.”

The kid slumps, managing the impressive feat of looking desolate while standing over the tomatoes. “Probably, not that I'll see it. I couldn't manage to get a ticket.”

That is something he can fix, “Here,” he manages to grab ahold of his wallet, “as luck would have it, I've got a couple spares.”

The kid looks torn between fear and elation, it's likely at least the second strangest thing to ever happen to them in a Walmart. “Oh I can't-”

“No strings, I got it through work for my sister-in-law to go with my husband. She asked why none of the good bands ever have reunion tours so… not going obviously. And my husband insists he's too old to be that close to the stage. You'd be doing me a favor really.”

“If you're sure,” they say, the hesitance more a mannered necessity than real.

“Sure as shooting. Seriously, here give me your name so my husband knows who to make the thank you note out to.”

“Aspen, thank you really!”

Twenty minutes later when he’s got a kitchen appliance bungied to the back of his bike he’ll appreciate that something good came out of this. Three weeks later when he’s standing at the front of a sold out arena he’ll mostly appreciate another chance to be dramatic, “This next one is for Aspen who didn’t laugh when an old man tried to flirt with his husband in the produce aisle. Gareth, count me in.”

#steddie #steddie fic #old man steddie #rockstar eddie munson

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chrollohearttags · 4 months

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“silly boy, come find me when you’re older!” • a. artlert

synopsis: two lovers realize their relationship isn’t meant to be but that doesn’t mean they have to part ways forever..

content + themes: fem!reader (black coded), age gap (2-3 years, armin is 19, reader is 21-22) college au-ish (armin is going to nursing school + reader is a business grad), star-crossed lovers trope, angst + comfort, missionary, riding, hand holding, heavy kissing, crying (not dacryphila), accidental creampie, pet names (baby, mama, baby boy, angel), drug mentions, he gets possessive for like .2 seconds.

word count: 3.1K

📝: I have been so in love with fluff and the idea of soft smut lately (maybe it’s the holidays, maybe it’s my hormones..who knows!) but this is a part of a new au I’m starting! A new story that’ll be coming out soon and I can’t wait. For now, enjoy one of several side fics to accompany it! Also, please tell me y’all know this title reference 😭

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰───────✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰────

“I really wish you wouldn’t look at me like that…”

the phrase seemed to have alluded him yet again..slipping through one ear and out the next. Almost as if only his body was present and his mind and spirit were elsewhere. It was to be expected though..

“..armie..? Aren’t you going to say something, baby? Anything?..”

you had just confided in him quite possibly the worst thing ever. In truth, his heart was breaking and there wasn’t a single thing that either of you could do to mend it. Although, you felt solely responsible..that the reason for his pain was entirely your fault. But it was a necessary confession nonetheless. One that you truly believed would benefit you both. Distance. Distance between the two of you so that he could properly pursue his education. A long sought after dream of becoming a nurse. Following directly in his mother’s footsteps and making her proud..it was all Armin ever wanted. As it stood, that was a mere concept and it was thanks to the girl lying next to him. His sweet, beloved (y/n). The (y/n) he reunited with at a house party one night and had been wildly entangled with ever since. Hooking up, drinking and smoking…what most peers your age was doing but you also had bigger aspirations for both Armin and yourself. He wanted to become a registered nurse, working with children and you were already two years deep into your collegiate journey as a business major. Laser focused and ambitious..ready to conquer your goals. You couldn’t waste your lives away in the back of his car, hotboxing and having sex. As fun as this little whirlwind romance was, you had to cut things off. At least for the foreseeable future..for both of your sakes. It wasn’t an easy decision in the slightest and you were far more torn up by the situation than what you were letting on but it had to be done. Regardless of your emotions..

“..I just don’t understand..I mean, is there someone else? Why don’t you want me anymore?…”

there it was..underneath all of those newly etched tattoos, shaggy blonde locks and suave charm lied that sweet, gentle boy. The same nerdy kid you’d first encountered whilst attending the same high school. Although two years apart, you found him to be adorable and couldn’t help but to grace the awkward brainiac with a smile every morning on his visits to the library. A beautiful goddess like you even acknowledging him? He was grateful for that alone! But it wasn’t until his senior year did the two of you reconnect. By that time, he had shed his thick, wire framed glasses for icy blue contacts to match his own..grew out his blonde bowl cut to a curly shag and had even acquired a couple of art pieces on his arm. Not to mention, gained some muscle from playing basketball. Some say you were the catalyst for his sudden change. Although this appearance was new, deep down, he was still that wide eyed genius with unbelievable intelligence. And best believe, your kindness wasn’t lost on him. So it came as no surprise, when you happened to cross paths with him at a graduation party that your younger sister, who happened to be in the same class with him, was attending..he found the courage to finally talk to you face to face. All of his newfound confidence flew out of the window when he saw you..that ethereal skin, deity like features and of course, that smile. That smile that made his heart flutter. “You haven’t changed a bit, baby boy…”

certainly his looks had, but you saw through all of that. You saw Armin for who he truly was and for that, he couldn’t allow you to slip away without confessing his true feelings. So that night, with liquor in his veins, he charmed you with sweet words and told you that he’d always had the biggest crush on you. It didn’t take long for you guys to get involved..days after that party, you began seeing one another. Both romantically and intimately. However, your relationship wasn’t exactly conventional or ideal..you were good for each other, perhaps a little too well. Because every moment that presented itself, you’d find yourself in every bed, couch, bathroom or backseat..going at it like rabid animals. The sex was insane and you couldn’t get enough of each other. It was only coupled by the sensation of the drugs coursing your veins..stimulants that sent your mind to places you didn’t need to be. Although there was never a single fight between you two, you knew the relationship wasn’t a healthy one. You encouraged each other’s worst habits. He had gotten a full ride scholarship to his dream school and you had obtained several as well for your ideal program. But you both stood to lose those if you didn’t make some changes. Ditching class to go smoke and then fucking him in every square inch of your off campus apartment. Sending him nudes and salacious messages during class, along with always being underneath each other. He’d never be able to focus and stay on track at this rate! Hence why you had to be the mature one and break things off. Even if it brought you to tears as well. So with a shaky palm, as you lay in bed next to one another, you’d bring a hand to his face and quell his doubts.

“You couldn’t possibly think that..you're the only one I want, Armin. I swear on everything..but..we can’t keep doing this. I love you so much but we’re no good for each other. At least not right now..”

but he’d attest, almost immediately. Insisting that he could buckle down and focus on his goals at hand. However, your mind was made up. That blind obsession and adoration for you would never allow him his room for growth. It wasn’t fair. Here you were only another year shy of receiving your degree and he was barely even started. You had to give him a fair shot, even if it meant removing yourself from the equation. You had even found an internship. He’d try to talk you out of it, convince you that he could juggle both college and you but regardless of how smart he was, nursing school was an entirely different beast in and of itself. It would require his full attention and dedication if he wanted to be an exceptional caregiver. No drugs, no distractions…no you. His studies deserved all of his time.

“So why can’t we make it work then? Isn’t that what couples do or was I nothing more than a joke?”

“Armin…”

in that moment, he’d tug away and roll over onto his side, giving you the proverbial cold shoulder and it stung like hell. The last thing you wanted to do was fight the man you loved. If anything, you wished things could stay like this forever. But you both had growing up to do and until that happened, it was best you parted ways.

“..I have an idea..”

But it wasn’t something that had to be permanent..for now though, there was no need to be upset with one another when you could spend your remaining time enjoying yourselves. Gently pulling him back towards you, you’d maneuver your legs until you were able to crawl on top of him. Those long acrylics scaled his freshly tattooed chest as you gently straddled his waist..at that moment, his little cheeks flushed red and you’d feel his breathing becoming slightly heavier. You’d lean down and begin peppering light kisses to his temple and all around his face..all while slowly rolling your hips against his crotch. With you, he was vulnerable..at his softest and would undoubtedly listen to whatever you said. “I’m all ears..”

that’s when you’d devise a plan that you believed that both of you could agree upon. An agreement of sorts.. “..two years..in two years, we can see each other again, just like this. We’ll work hard and reach our goals. You’ll be in your senior year, doing clinicals and I’ll be at my new job. We can find a place and finally start our lives together. Armin, I love you so much and I don’t want to see you throw your life away. Please..promise me you’ll find your way back to me when you’re ready. When we’re both in a better place..” once he spotted your tearful plea and heard the tone in your voice, he knew what had to be done. Personal feelings aside..you were absolutely right. He knew if he stood any chance of keeping you in his life, he had to blossom into a grown man that you could be proud of. One that was worthy of being called yours. Reaching up, Armin would grasp your hand and bring it to his lips for a gentle kiss, holding it close. He wanted to remember that feeling..savor it and savor you as well. God, he didn’t want you to leave, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye!..but this was the only way. The only way he could ensure that he got to have you in the long run. He wanted you two to grow old together so he’d make this temporary sacrifice to be able to share an eternity with you.

“..you have my word, angel. I promise..I promise I’ll come back to you a better man than what I’ve been..”

“Then take me…right here.”

just then, you’d feel his hand snake up your spine and tug you down towards his chest..not another word was exchanged. Just slow, tender pecks and breathy moans..immersed in the covers and in one another, you’d allow the moment to take you both. Your palms cupping his cheek and his gripping your ass, you’d tousle around underneath the sheets. It didn’t take long for the endearing moment to become rather heated but it was a true testament of the passion between you two. In a moment of haste, his nails would gently dig into the curvature of your back as you leaned up. In a matter of minutes, you’d feel his once flaccid erect growing harder underneath you. The sensation of your dripping heat making direct contact with him..and it was driving him crazy! He needed you so badly right now and you were just the same.

“Armieeee..”

calling out with a high pitched whimper as you ground yourself against him. You couldn’t stop either..almost as if you’d simply combust if you were to be pulled away from him right now. Frail cries would escape his lips as well but he’d find a semblance of control to satisfy your desires, which took precedence over everything else.

“Yes, baby? Tell me what you need..”

cooing to you in that sweet, loving tone that always managed to turn you to meet putty in his hands every time. You were still hopelessly rutting yourself against him; arousal overflowing from between your thighs that quickly. He knew what you wanted but he needed to hear you say the fateful words..give him instruction and guidance the way you had always done. “Hey, look at me, mama..” gently snatching your head forward and forcing eye contact as your chest heaved. “N-need you. Need you so bad, baby..please. Make love to me..” and with that whiny declaration, he’d make haste in fulfilling your wish. With a cocked smile, Armin would reign you in tighter, reaching for you. “Then here..take my hands, angel..” on his command, your hands would join in a gentle clasp, combining as one as you adjusted your lower half to align with his. He’d buck his hips upward and you’d lower yourself down as your bodies became one… meeting in an instant. “Fuck…” the word escaping your mouths simultaneously along with gentle moans. That seemed to be the theme for the night. A stark comparison to the wild nights you shared together previously. Perhaps.. it was the realization that this was really the last time you’d get to do this for a while. That he wouldn’t be able to feel the comfort of your body, to smell your intoxicating scent..to clash with your plump lips..to taste the sticky gloss that coated them. To stare into those gorgeous brown eyes. So as he lie underneath you, being rode to kingdom come as your tightness constricted around him once more, Armin would close his eyes and absorb every memory, every fiber of you..ensuring that he’d never forget his first and true love.

“There you go, baby. Right there..ride me—fuck!”

and he couldn’t possibly forget how you made him feel. How you set him ablaze with your overwhelming passion..still bound hand in hand, heart to heart, you’d keep going. Throwing your head to the wind and calling out your lover’s name, lifting it to the heavens as you bounced up and down. Taking him to your hilt; allowing that swollen tip to prod your most sensitive area. “Armin, baby! Yes..oh my gosh, you feel so good.” For the first time, you didn’t just fuck him. His flesh was more than a mere vessel of pleasure..it was your soul becoming one with his own. You were experiencing true pleasure in its purest form..and neither of you wanted it to end. Finally opening his eyes, he’d be greeted by the ethereal view of your breasts swaying and your beautiful face throwed in ecstasy filled bliss. “Aw, baby..you’re so beautiful. My favorite view in the entire world.” Smiling as tears streamed generously down your cheeks. “Oh my God—I love you, Armin! I love you so much.” Confessing with all that you could muster. And that warm, gushing sensation derived from your sex wasn’t lost on Armin either. He’d find himself in a fit of heaving as your walls closed in around his cock. Squeezing him as if to never let go. “Ahh!-shit..I love you too, baby!—“

in that moment, he could no longer hold back his urges. His need to claim full dominion over you..hastily, he’d bring you to a cease before maneuvering and flipping you over onto your back. It was then that he’d mount you. Diving between your legs as he held each in place. He didn’t even take a moment to adjust. It was mere seconds before you’d find yourself filled with him yet again and he’d begin his descent into your mix. Sloshing and drumming up slick as your thighs collided in a fiery haze. The bed..the one that you’d messed around in so many times before served as the place of consummation for your devotion tonight..ricocheting and colliding with the wall as thunderous slams erupted. Your limbs entangled as your legs found home around his waist and your arms on his back. His entire frame lay bare and pressed to your own as those hips crashed into you. It felt unreal..so unbelievably unreal. But this was the present..your reality for the time being so you’d savor every last moment you got together. Drilling further into your body, his pace sped to a barrage of more steady, consistent strokes. Ones that he would accompany with sloppy tongue kisses. Filling your mouth with them as he pounded you gently. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. Regardless of how many times you slept together, something about this moment was starkly different. “Look at me, (y/n)!…” once again, snatching your head forward to meet his gaze. “You’re mine..you’re mine and I don’t give a damn where you go. I belong to you, you hear me? Don’t forget that..” those tears that had been brimming in his eyes finally fell and you’d affirm his sentiment with a fierce nod of your head, assuring him that no amount of distance or time could ever dissipate the love you shared for one another. “Yes baby! And I’m all yours, forever. I won’t ever leave you.” Sealing your promises with one final act..

“Yeah? You mean that?” “Every word, baby. I want you to always be with me..” Vocalizing back and forth as he continually thrashed around inside of your pussy until he sensed the urge that you were close. Upholding one another’s heads in a passionate fury, you’d exchange breathy words amid your love making. Telling him you’re near your peak and him telling you to let go. “Come for me, baby. You can come all over—“ but alas, before he could grant you permission, it would seem that he’d reach his climax first; glaring with a wide eyed expression as his seed filled you to the brim..something he’d never done before! Cursing himself and apologizing as he shook violently, draining every drop of himself into you. Perhaps he took your words a bit too literal but it was far too late to turn back now and shortly after, you’d follow. Showering him with a splatter of sticky rain. Squeezing and dripping all down his shaft. You’d convulse and flail around the mattress until he was able to quell you with gentle kisses. “I’m right here, mama. Let it out, it’s okay..” but once you were back into consciousness, you still wouldn’t let go and you remained entangled like this minutes afterwards. Exchanging “I love you’s” and sweet nothings. Along with tears..shedding them not for what would be lost but the time you had together and the comfort in knowing that you’d reunite soon enough. This time as more than friends with benefits or even mere freshmen sweethearts. But as an entity, an item that could never be separated because your bond was forged on a stronger foundation than one made of pure lust. It was love that would drive you to be better versions of yourselves, to work hard and it was love..that would bring you right back to one another when the time was truly right!

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿════✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°

@citysweet @greenieweeniesworld @hoohoohope @c0pkiller @bey0nseh @violetxxvenom @dragonmaiden79 @fuck-your-chickenstrips-hoe @saiki-enthusiast

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narwhalsarefalling · 2 years

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my dad taught me how to set shit on fire when i was 6 with a magnifying glass. instead of reading us stories he would read us his flight training manuals until we got so bored we would pretend to be asleep so he would leave. on my birthday one year he somehow made fish sticks in the shape of stars and seashells. he let us paint our bedframes in six different colors with different levels of success. in middle school i was assigned to make a mouse trap car and he helped me make one that worked so well that i was banned from making mousetrap cars again. in my first year of uni he would drive 3 hrs from work to pick me up and another 3 to take me home to visit, and would do it every time without complaint. he used to do my hair in pigtails every day, and that turned to learning to braid when i got older. he would always pretend to be bad at the video games we played so we could win. he made our beds so perfectly that we had to stretch the sheets out to get back in.

my brother is younger then me. for my birthday one year he presented me a lego minifigure of myself that he had hand painted. when he had his first crush he carved her name in a piece of wood and shaped it into a dolphin. not because dolphins were her favorite animal, but because he thinks they’re cool. he let me destroy a piñata he made in school because i was having a bad day, and we both laughed as we ate the candy he put inside of it. despite always being squeamish around dead things, he once brought home a hog’s vertebrae he found on a hike because he knew i would love it. (i did). when his girlfriend’s birthday came around, he spent all his time restoring a nightstand for her, carving cats and flowers into the panels and smoothing them with sandpaper.

i have more of these stories. my cousin’s husband incorporates his children’s names into the code he programs. my grandpa helped me pull a leech off of my ankle after a swim in the pond. my great grandpa carried a photo of my mom in the sole of his shoes until the day he died. the neighbor boy across the street once captured a very weird bug under a cup and walked it across the street to show me. my best friend collected old batteries and bits of wire for me because he knew i liked to play with them. a boy in my first grade class colored his nails pink with highlighter because he really liked my pink dress i wore the day before. my coworker took a photo of a cactus he saw because he knew i would like it. my 3yo cousin insisted i take home his most beloved plushie when he learned i would be living away from my parents.

i can’t help it. i love the way men love.

#the narwhal speaks #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k #10k #15k

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thealogie · 2 months

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picture this. you're michael sheen, beloved queer-friendly welsh actor and recent twilight saga vampire. you want your favorite book to become a tv show, and you want to be the lead. so what do you do? you befriend the author. he wines and dines you, you become a confidant in the scriptwriting phase. and in the process of the GO script you decide you don't want to be crowley, actually, you want to be aziraphale. you put in the work for months to influence the author to the same conclusion. so when neil gaiman comes to you one day saying, "i know you joined on to be crowley... but how would you feel about playing aziraphale?" you say, what a novel idea! i was feeling the same way, i just didn't want to say anything! let's do it.

you're michael sheen, the lead in the adaptation of your favorite book. you meet david tennant as your leading man, a rising star (and vocal fan of yours) you've had a few vague interactions with in the past. on set you immediately find the closest friend you have ever and will ever find in your life, and you know this. the romance you have in your (yes, your) show is ambiguous, but you're michael sheen. you think that romance needs to be explicit. so what do you do? you become a nightmare on set. you get really hands-on; you make costume choices, you make story decisions, you tell your author friend at the very end of filming: aziraphale is in love with crowley and realizes it in 1941. now go do it again.

so the author goes and does it again. you get a season 2. you get 1941 part 2. you're michael sheen, and you are the lead of the adaptation of your favorite book, and the romance you littered into the character you built from the ground up has become unambiguous. everything goes according to plan. but, you see, you have a problem: the author you have baby trapped is acting a FIEND on twitter and tumblr. he's saying everything he can to imply aziraphale and crowley aren't sexually attracted to each other. he's getting a bit too bold with his character assumptions, is all i'm saying. so here's what you're going to do: you play it up with your pal david tennant. you made a show with him during lockdown. you're going to depict your lives as even more intertwined and homoerotically codependent as previously possible. you grow even closer. your wives become best friends, too, because how could they not? this has been the plan since the beginning, too. your lockdown show ends. it wasn't enough.

so you, michael sheen, of course you put in the work. if david tennant's there, you're damn sure you're there physically, spiritually, biblically, in whatever capacity you can be. it's not hard. david tennant is a big fan of yours, after all, so he MAKES SURE you're always in the conversation. you have him wrapped around your little finger, this lovely little boy, and so you know what you do next? you become neighbors. you make your directorial debut casting your best friend's wife watching her husband and male neighbor initiate sex with each other. you play into the swinging rumors (that you, michael sheen, had started). you create a narrative that you and david tennant are two homoerotic besties, and is there more going on in the background there? any deeper conspiracy? who really knows, but what you do know is that the world is talking about it.

and you, michael sheen, your entire acting career has led to this moment, your gay quips, your oscar wilde sex scene (and the interviews following), all of your queer roles, EVERYTHING has brought us to this conclusion. you have created the lab perfect conditions where season 3 must have an explicit gay sex scene. i'm sorry neil, my hands are tied! the people are clamoring for me and david tennant to have sex-- i mean aziraphale and crowley to have sex, the public decided this all on their own! i really don't think you have much choice. but of course, i would never deign to tell an author how to practice his veritable craft. i concede to whatever version of series 3 you create, and i will happy to bring this beloved character to his deserved ending.

and why do you say this? because you're michael sheen. you're just an actor who incidentally stumbled his way into leading the queer romance adaptation of your favorite book that wasn't a romance, and you just read the script the way that it was given to you. and if series 3 means an explicit sex scene between you and your best friend david tennant, then what a lovely coincidence that you had absolutely no part in making happen. because what power do you really have?

This is my favorite book I’ve read so far this year. A rare occasion where the author pulls off use of the second person pov. I really felt like I was a beloved welsh actor crossed with Machiavelli when I read this

#michael sheen

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politemenacephd · 3 months

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Monster!Mig Vol 4. (+18)

Werewolf!Miguel O'Hara X GN!Reader

Masterlist

Content: Established relationship, Monster/human relationship, Fear kink, Hormone smelling, Oral (reader recieving), Rough PinV Sex, Size Difference, Belly bulging, Claiming Bites, Knotting, Creampie.

Notes: i got the flu real bad so we're feeling feral today boys i swear i will be back w more stuff soon Word count: 4162

‘There, nice and tight, right?’

You gently jangled the chains that you’d just tightened around Miguel’s chest, ensuring that they were immovable. They clanked a little against his rounded pecs, and while they could be moved about an inch or so they remained taut and firm.

Miguel kept his eyes on you as you checked them. ‘I’m—sorry we have to do this again’ he murmured.

‘Nah, don’t worry about it’ you said, giving him a cheeky smile to ease his worries. ‘I knew what I was getting myself into.’

‘I- I mean I did my best to warn you, but—’

‘Mhm. Mhm. You did your best, and my god, I just did not listen’ you sarcastically sighed. He let out a little snort of a chuckle in response.

‘I just want you to be safe’ he murmured. ‘I couldn’t- stand, anything happening to you.’

‘Oh my god, stop being so stoic, pup. Just relax’ you teased.

‘You call me pup again I will bite you’ Miguel grunted back, ‘and I don’t mean because of the change. I will happily do it regardless.’

‘Oo, please do. But, later. For now—voila!’

You stepped back and admired your set up. This was your so called ‘panic’ room, a totally bare attic space with enormous, shackled chains bolted into the hard brick wall. It had one window overlooking the night sky, allowing cool light to filter in and highlight the dust in the air, but beyond that there was nothing else.

It was horribly drab, however, that was for a reason, for the floor was covered in years’ worth of claw marks, and the bricks showed signs of being gnawed by giant, hardy teeth.

You looked back down to Miguel on the floor and noted the slight tint of yellow showing on his warm red-brown eyes. His pupils were already dilating.

Your dear Miguel, your beloved, would soon turn into a ravenous beast for the night.

‘I’m gonna miss you’ you said softly, your sentimental heart unable to keep up your cheerful, teasing façade.

Miguel gave a slight smile and scoffed. ‘It’s one night. One night to keep you alive. You’ll manage.’

‘Mm, I dunno. Maybe death would be better.’

‘You’re so dramatic’ he said bluntly.

‘I’m dramatic? Me?’ you said as you dramatically pressed your hand to your chest. ‘You’re the one who can’t see a full moon without murdering everyone in sight. THAT’S dramatic!’

Miguel scoffed a second time and let his head hit the brick wall. He was playing the exasperated partner, but you could see his eyes lingering on you in the dimming light.

‘Yeah. I’ll miss you too’ he said, his voice softening as he looked you up and down.

You smiled as your hands fell to your sides. You looked oddly coy. ‘Mhm. That’s what I thought.’

You carefully bent down to his level as the urge to kiss him became too strong. He strained against his chains to meet you with drooping eyes. You made it to your knees, even allowing your lips to brush, when you smelled something that gave you instant pause.

‘Is, that—’

It was. It was that familiar musk, the smell of fur and earth and beasts. You glanced at Miguel’s eyes and found them even more dilated than before.

‘Shit…’

The two of you glanced in unison towards the one rickety window in the corner. You could see that the sun was slowly setting as the sky turned from red to navy blue, the emptiness glimmering with the first few speckled stars.

The little blocks of light cast onto the dirty floor were turning from a soft yellow to a hazy white. Moonlight.

You sighed. ‘Okay. Okay, um—it’s time for me to go.’

You managed to sneak one gently kiss to his cheek, leaving a lingering little print of your scent before you reluctantly withdrew. Miguel’s sad puppy dog eyes followed you all the way to the door.

‘Good luck’ you whispered, pausing on the precipice of the doorway. ‘I’ll stay up. Make sure nothing gets out of hand.’

‘I’ll be thinking of you’ Miguel murmured back. You smiled before locking the door at your back.

…

For the rest of the night you stayed up in your room. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep so you decided to cuddle up in your loosest pyjama’s and watch videos until the early dawn.

You wanted to be able to sit beside him, but Miguel was staunchly against such a thing. He couldn’t risk the temptation of having you nearby, and you knew he didn’t like you seeing him in this form.

You knew you wouldn’t care but you didn’t want to push it. You agreed to stay separate.

As the clock struck midnight you glanced over to where the curtains on your bedroom window were lightly waving. You could see the full moon beyond them, bright and bold and uncovered by even a single cloud.

An ominous sight to someone like you.

Your eyes instinctively glanced up to the ceiling. You knew he would have changed by now. You wondered as you always did; was it painful, the change? He said it wasn’t, but you knew he could just be covering to save you the worry.

You wondered what he must think about in that state, if he even thought at all. You wondered if he did miss you. If he thought of you.

God, you really did miss him. You missed his warmth, his biceps around your waist as you spooned, his warm breath on your neck. You missed resting on his chest. You missed kissing him. You missed- well, everything.

You missed his body. You missed his soft praise and barely concealed possessiveness as he held you down. You missed his calloused hands and sharp claws gripping you tight.

You felt a soft pulse in your lower sex and shook your head. No, you shouldn’t get worked up tonight. You needed to be on guard.

But… you did miss him, so, much…

BANG.

You jumped in bed at the sudden noise.

Luckily, you were used to this. When the moon hit he always tried to escape, and it’s that which kept you awake all night. The sound of that poor beast struggling against his chains, snapping and howling. It’d been painful the first few months you’d had to hear it, then it’d gotten annoying, but now it was just normal. It was like adjusting to your partner snoring at night.

You yawned and leaned back into the pillows.

The banging continued as you’d expected. You heard chains rattling, boards being torn and ripped. You dozed through it all in a half-asleep daze, barely paying attention to the video you put on.

It was at about 2am, when the clock struck, that you heard something more alarming.

You heard metal clanking hard on the floor, and jolted upright in bed. Wait, you’d never heard that before. His chains didn’t reach the floor?

But that was definitely what you could hear. You could hear metal on wood, scraping its way from one end of the attic to the other. Your head slowly tilted as you followed the sound.

‘Shit’ you hissed.

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t. Not tonight. Not now.

Another loud bang rang out, and this time you physically jumped in shock. It sounded like wood splintering, and it was coming from the side of the attic that you knew the locked door was on. The side opposite to where Miguel was meant to be.

A low, warbling howl filled the silence. Your heart sank.

You heard the door upstairs slowly, painfully, creaking open.

Oh no. No, no, no.

You jumped from your bed and instinctively went to hide beneath it, but somehow your luck took an even worse turn. As you jumped your feet landed directly on a loose board. It creaked, loudly, and the footsteps stopped.

‘Shit’ you hissed again. He knew you were in here.

For a couple of seconds, all was still. All was silent. In the dark you couldn’t tell what was the house settling and what was a predator on the prowl.

A low, threatening growl filled the air, and you bolted.

In a moment of panic you dove out of the bedroom and down the stairs, just barely missing the enormous muscled figure of Miguel as he dove at your head.

You had only one hope. Miguel had left his taser downstairs in the living room. It was just a precaution, one you’d never used before hence why it was in such a random spot, but you needed it now.

You stumbled into the living room with Miguel hot on your heels. You made it halfway across the room to where the taser was sitting on the edge of a table. You reached, your hands grasping, but right at that crucial moment you tripped.

Your toes went under the rug on the centre of the floor and you fell hard on your face, knocking the taser to the floor in the process.

‘FUCK—Ah, ah…’

You spun around onto your back as the floor creaked.

Miguel crawled towards you on all fours. In the dark you could only barely see his face, with the light of the moon and the red of his eyes highlighting the contours of his body. The curves of muscle breaking through his torn shirt, the ruffle of dark fur on his back and arms, the shimmering coat over his talons, all of it highlighting how deadly he was.

He still looked like him, like your Miguel. That slicked back dark hair and rough brown skin, those almond eyes and that chiselled square face, with his enormous chest and shoulders sat atop that smooth curved waist.

But you could see the monster breaking through. The fur bursting out in patches on his arms and chest, the claws erupting from his fingernails, the tufty ears erupting from his head, and most of all the teeth. His usually soft expression was drawn back into one of animalistic malice, and you could see the most enormous fangs in his maw.

He bared those same teeth and snarled.

‘Mig, Miggy—Miguel, hey, it’s me’ you panted.

He drew his lips back even further.

‘Miguel’ you repeated desperately. ‘Miguel—’

He took a few steps closer, forcing you to scurry on your back. You couldn’t run. You would never make it to the door, nor the window nor the corridor.

In a panic, you could think of only one thing to distract him. It might have seemed mad to anyone else, and yet to you, there was a lingering shard of a memory teetering on the edge of your terrified mind. The memory of Miguel mentioning the importance of scents, and how the smell of you always drove him mad.

You grabbed your pyjama pants and shifted them down.

It was just an inch at first, as you were laying awkwardly on the floor and they kept catching on the wood, but as you slid them you noticed him slowing his predatory approach.

You saw his eyes darting. He sniffed, smelling the air.

‘That’s it’ you whimpered. ‘That’s it, it’s me. You know that, don’t you?’

You lay down on your back as Miguel crawled over you. The scent of your kiss must have stuck in his nose, as he seemed to remember through the haze even a small part of you, but more than that the smell of your bare body was enticing.

He bent his head and sniffed from your neck down to your belly and finally to your thighs. He growled there, and in a panic you yanked your pants further. You pulled them right down to your ankles.

‘Ah—there, there, shh—’

He gave a grunt of what you assumed was satisfaction as you kicked them aside. He moved in, and you lay back in submission. He pressed his face right against your bare pussy.

‘F-Fuck—’ You bit your lip to stifle any noises. This was a dangerous ploy, especially as you’d made yourself so vulnerable, but you wanted to trust him. You had no other choice.

You closed your eyes and prayed.

It was then, in the dark and the cold, unseeing and tense, that you were jolted by the most abrupt spasm of pleasure.

Something long, wet and warm was lapping at your bare pussy, eagerly and curiously winding between your lips and up to your clit. Your legs spasmed at the sensation.

‘A-Ah—Mig?’

You opened your eyes and looked down, only to find that he was licking at your bare sex. He was clawing at the wood as he curiously tasted you.

‘A-Ah…. Miguel, that—mm—’

The soft little fluttering pulses in your clit that you’d tried to ignore before had left you extremely sensitive, and his rough tongue was making it hard to see. You were trying to stay on guard, wary that he might still lose himself again, but fuck did it feel heavenly.

He’d always been a fan of pleasuring with his tongue, but this was something else entirely. His increased size allowed his tongue to cover your entirely labia when flat, covering every single little spot of nerves he could get at. You whimpered on the floor.

He kept licking. Kept tasting, kept curiously flicking the tip on your clit, kept getting so close that his tongue delved right into your cunt. All the while his claws were dangerously close to slicing your ankle, and worse, his teeth kept grazing the sensitive skin of your folds.

You knew you were going to cum from this, but you didn’t want to startle him with any loud noises.

To your horror, as the pleasure rose, you had to try and bite you down.

You forced yourself to cum in silence. Your hips bucked a little, your legs involuntarily spasming as he kept licking through every ripple of pleasure, but luckily it didn’t seem to bother him. You rode out that sweet, guilty pleasure as you screamed in your mind, before slowly relaxing as your muscles de-tensed.

Thankfully Miguel drew himself back just a little while after your silent orgasm, his mouth dripping with slick and spit. He drew himself up to your head and snapped at your cheek, baying you to lay still. You did as told.

‘A-Ah… you really are still Miguel, huh?’ you said with a shaky laugh. He grunted.

You realized then, as the adrenaline and the pleasure wore off, that he was naked. You hadn’t really taken it fully in before now, but the change must have torn his clothes to shreds.

He was naked, and his enormous veiny cock was pulsing between your legs as he hunched over your body on the floor.

You baulked a little in shock. Fuck, had the change made him bigger?

You didn’t have time to ponder that as he began to push himself between your legs, his claws settling beside your shoulders. He was getting into a missionary mating press.

‘A-Ah… ah, fuck, Miguel’ you panted. He wanted to try and fuck you? Like this?

His eyes on you were still burning with that beastly haze, but you swore you saw something in them that looked like him. Something soft, something affectionate, beyond the curdled animalistic lust.

You felt his cock nudging at your tight hole, smearing the spit and slick he’d left behind as he coaxed you to take him. You could feel his bulbous member twitching.

Your eyes shifted, and you realized that the taser had fallen on the floor within arm’s reach. You could feasibly bring him down now, if you wanted. If you had to. You could grab it quick and render him limp.

But… Your eyes involuntarily drifted back. You were so sore, your pussy throbbing as your blood pulsed through it, your thighs sodden and shaky. The thought of the release, the relief, of your beautiful Miguel fucking you raw with that fat rod, it filled you with fear and unescapable excitement.

You bit your lip as he growled again. Fuck. Your hormones had certainly won him over, so, at least your plan worked, right? At least with this, you were safe. At least like this, he couldn’t go anywhere else.

‘O-Okay, you… That’s it. Stay here with me’ you stammered breathlessly. ‘Stay with me, Mig. That’s it.’

You lay still, and you let him take you.

It should have felt familiar. You’d taken him so many times before, but this? This was different. You felt the size difference immediately.

His cock was obscenely fat, and it was splitting you open as he stretched you wide. He hit a point about a third of the way down his shaft where he could get no further, and with a dissatisfied snarl he started to rut harder. He was pushing you to your limits, and as he edged deeper you felt the sudden influx of burning in your core.

‘F-Fuck—’ You squirmed a little, trying to adjust to the size, but a sharp snap at your cheek forced you back to stillness.

‘O-Okay, okay, just—careful, please—’

You weren’t sure how much of him remained lucid, but something definitely seemed to make him slow down as you winced. He started to pause between pumps, letting you shift and settle, and even nudged your cheek to see if you were okay.

He never stopped, though. He continued to pump his shaft into your cunt, easing it open inch by inch to take him, and when he finally bottomed out it was because you physically couldn’t take any more.

He managed to get most of it inside you, but he couldn’t fit it all. You were embarrassed to see a good two inches of thick, throbbing cock surrounded by dark hair still sitting uncovered, accompanied by the sight of your belly bulging where he’d settled.

You felt it nudging at your cervix. You felt it throb, you watched it throb, and grit your teeth. You were shaking, but fuck, it was good.

Miguel snarled again, his teeth bared against your cheek. You could feel him breathing a little harder as he shifted his pelvis. You knew he was feeling you, tasting you, pausing to savour the sensation of your insides squeezing him tight, and you liked it.

‘It’s okay’ you stammered. You felt his drool hit your cheek. ‘I-I’m okay. You- You can have me.’

Miguel throbbed again, a pulsing sensation so hard that you felt it in your guts.

‘Mine.’

You blinked in shock. Was that, a word?

Miguel bared his teeth a second time as he took one, hard thrust inside you, one that threw your entire body and sent both sharp pain and toe-curling pleasure through to your soul. You groaned in shock.

‘A-Ah, f-fuck—’ you whimpered.

‘Mine.’

He repeated that single, guttural word, and you knew he meant it. You nodded.

‘Y-Yes. Yes. Yours. All yours.’

He growled deep in the back of his throat, a motion which made his Adams apple jolt.

‘Breed’ he snarled. You shuddered as he dug his claws into the wood beside your head.

‘Breedable. Mine.’

You grit your teeth in anticipation. You could feel him gradually beginning to slip his cock in and out. Without another word, that enormous beast started to rut back and forth.

He was rough from the start, even when he was exhibiting some form of control. You had to dig your nails into his biceps for support as he threw your body with every thrust. Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind. He was happy to bend you, pushing you into a deeper mating press.

You could see his talons by your head. You could feel his hot breath, could smell the stench of fur and metal and musk. He was panting with each pump.

As you trembled and moaned, taking each deep thrust of his cock, some of that animal rage in his eyes seemed to dissipate. Did he look, hot? Was he, moaning back?

He was definitely grunting with each thrust he took. You could feel the veins on his cock pulsing against your gummy walls, begging for release.

As his grunts got louder he started to pump harder. It was all you could hear. His grunting, his panting, the sound of skin clapping skin, the whine of the wood being raked by his claws and the wet squelch of his cock moving back and forth.

He was getting close. You realized, in a brief moment of lucidity as you were fucked brainless, that he was going to try and cum inside you. All you could think was one thing: How would he even fit that in you?

It was while you tried to comprehend this question that one of his little werewolf habits reared its ugly head; the need to bite. The claiming bite.

You squeaked audibly as he abruptly bit down on your neck and shoulder, pinning you hard to the floor. You could feel the burn of his teeth as they sank beneath the skin, the pure power in his jaw. If he moved too hard, he could absolutely cause a lot of damage.

‘M-Miguel’ you whimpered. ‘Miguel—’

With your body clamped and frozen he started to buck harder, driving his cock into you with a frantic and animalistic force. You clung to him as tightly as you could.

‘Miguel—’ you cried, ‘P-please, ah—’

He thrust, and he growled, and every hair on his body stood on end. With a seething grunt he orgasmed inside you.

As you’d expected there was just no space inside you left to fill. You had to experience the full sensation of his unloading with so little room between his cock and your sensitive walls; the pulsing, the twitching, the thick spurts of cum that oozed out only to immediately start dripping down your ass to the floor. It sounded so obscenely wet.

‘Ah…. There, good- good boy, good boy’ you panted. ‘Miguel, fuck—’

Then you realized, one other little thing Miguel had mentioned to you in confidence; he was going to knot.

You gripped his arms tighter to support. ‘F-Fuck, fuck—’

Sure enough he knotted on the last spurt, plugging you tight as you squirmed. He hissed on your cheek as he did so. It was a primal display of possessive need, a sign of ownership as his cock swelled and pushed you to your limits. You could feel the thickness of his cum inside you, now unable to escape. You panted.

‘F-Fuck…. Ah, o-okay big guy, there you go. You- You okay now?’

His growling lowered to just a gentle whine, and slowly he drew his teeth back from your cheek. He simply held you there beneath him, impaled on his shaft, panting and beading with sweat from the entire ordeal.

Eventually you felt the knot releasing. It was like feeling a stranglehold on your neck finally unclench. The relief was intense, and you immediately began trying to ease yourself off.

But you barely made it an inch before being pinned by Miguel’s clawed hand. His fur brushed your cheek as he grabbed your chest, holding you still to the floor. You rushed to soothe him. ‘A-Ah—okay, okay. Shh, you’re okay big guy.’

He bared his teeth in that same territorial display. You met his gaze. You locked on to each other, naked and joined at the hip, throbbing around each other in a pool of primal sweat and cum and slick.

‘It’s okay. It’s okay’ you repeated. ‘I’m yours. I’m yours. See? Your- your little, prize.’

You gently shifted your hips to draw his attention there, and predictably his eyes did a little roll as your pussy clenched his shaft. He pulsed back, his veins pumping with hot blood.

‘Mine.’

To your continued surprise, he started thrusting again. His erection hadn’t lost any stamina, and if he was feeling overstimulated, he certainly wasn’t showing it. You, though, were showing it quite overtly.

‘MM--!’

A raspy moan escaped your lips as he winded you with the force of his insertions. His previous load was now being squished out with each thrust, but he didn’t care. He was making way for more.

‘A-Ah—f-fuck, Miguel, you—you really, need, more? MM—’

His hand pressed a little harder against your chest as he started to pick up speed. He was smacking you down against the wooden floor, his pelvis turning your hip bones numb. He tilted his head and growled.

‘Oh fuck—fuck that’s so—good—’

Your eyes rolled as that sweet dumbification kicked in. His cock easily fucked away all of your inhibitions, drowning your fear in heavenly pleasure as he rutted you raw.

If this is what it took to keep him distracted all night, then this is just what you’d have to do.

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