don't walk out
[spencer reid x reader]
summary: “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”
pairing: s.reid x gn!reader
w.c: 1K
warnings/content: implied abandoned issues; argument; silent treatment (brief); language; angst.
A/N: guess I'm on a roll today. I just love some angst.
navi
masterpost
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“is that supposed to make me feel better?”
lights had barely been turned on when you spat out a response, breaking the tense silence. your apartment was tidy, nothing out of order, even the pillows where settled two on each edge of the couch like you always did before leaving for work.
it was the expected. three days away on a case didn't exactly mean your house would turn upside down, would it? unanimated things didn't move on their own. but one thing that was turning upside down was your mood. not only did the journey home came with lots of turbulence, but Spencer had to make an unpleasant comment that made your blood boil. was it wrong that you just wanted to not look at him right now? you were even considering not sleeping beside him tonight.
“for fucks sake.” you mumbled under your breath when he had stayed silent. he's ignoring you now. great. throwing your work bag on the couch, you didn't even take your shoes off as you moved back toward the door. you can't handle his passive aggressive act and you certainly won't handle his silence treatment.
“where are you going?” he called out, shuffling out of the bedroom upon hearing the sound of keys dangling. no. no, you're not leaving, are you? “what—”
“i'm gonna take a walk, spencer.”
it didn't take a second for him to rush over and stop your exit by blocking the door. “what are the car keys for then?” desperation clouded his tone and you felt guilt building up in your chest, but it wasn't bigger than your frustration.
“I'm gonna drive.”
“at this time of the night? you hate driving at night.”
“are you my father?” he almost flinched at your sharp tone. okay, he deserved that hostility. he's been nothing but rude to you the entire jet ride back home. it's not that you did anything — even if you had done something, it does not justify the way he was treating you —, the case had been hard. it involved kids. the team wasn't fast enough. he wasn't fast enough. you almost got hurt. it was a lot to absorb in a short amount of time.
he never wanted this: you walking out while you were mad at each other. no. you had made a deal long ago. you both were laughing after your first stupid argument, something about forgetting to fold the laundry.
“okay, but we can be like this, right?” you said, nudging him. “we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.”
his eyes soften and he almost turns to mush. he understood then that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. and yes. you would be mad and you would upset each other but leaving was off the table. he could do that. there was nothing he'd want more.
but now he'd cross a line. didn't he? how dare he do that? how dare he cause you do want to walk out?
“i'm sorry.” spencer is still at the doorway when you ask him to move. he won't move. he can't. “i really am. I shouldn't have said that. it was out of line.”
“really?” you snap. he hears the edge in your voice and the crack. it breaks him. he just wants to hold you, he never meant—means to hurt you. “then why did you? why would you even think about something like that?”
he holds back his breath of relief once you've put the keys back in the bowl. the lump in his throat diminishing slightly.
“i was upset. angry— at the case. the whole situation, not you.“ he clarified. “sweetheart, i'm sorry. I didn't mean it.” you're searching his face for some indication of lie that you won't find. “i'm sorry.”
“you're an idiot.” your anger is gone, there's just frustration now. maybe at yourself, because you can't really stay mad at him as he stares at you with those eyes.
“i am,” he admits, no ounce of hesitation in his tone. he's fairly certain he is, in fact, an idiot. “i'm sorry.” he repeats and he will repeat over and over again until you forgive him. he will beg if he has to. “don't leave, please.”
and that is not fair. it's not. he can't make you mad and say sorry and all will be forgiven. he can't look at you with those eyes and think things will be magically fixed.
but then your armor cracks. suddenly, his behaviour makes sense.
we can fight and we can be mad but we can't leave.
“i wasn't going to—” you're ashamed at this point. you were so blinded by anger that you'd do something you promised to never do. “you know I wouldn't leave, right?” then his desperation in reaching the door before you makes sense and you're taken back to the moment you promised not to walk out in a fight. that's exactly what you where about to do.
“i'm sorry.” you say, staring at the keys in your hands. “i didn't think before acting.”
spencer nods slowly, taking a step closer towarss your frame. “and I didn't think before speaking. I'm the one that should be sorry.”
you caught a glimpse at his twitchy fingers and takes one of his hands into your own, letting the keys slip to the floor as you yank him to your arms. he only complies by squeezing you against him. and finally, both of you have what you've been craving since this case started: each other's comfort.
and then, you repeat. “i wasn't going to leave, you know that, right?”
“yeah.” he burries his face into your neck and his voice is muffled by your skin. “yeah, I know.”
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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie @ninkieminjaj ;
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Playground Love
ೀ older!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader
Tags: hurt/comfort, age gap (unspecified but reader is an adult), a lot of self doubt, talks about mommy and daddy issues, pet names (angel, princess, sweetheart).
W/C: 1.0k
A/N: studying? who is that? Anyways, this was supposed to be a cute ‘sitting on his lap would fix me’ but I got hit by existential crisis at 2am so angst.
"Wow, dating an older guy? That's so sophisticated!"
“Are you sure about this? Don’t you think there’s a reason why no one his age is dating him?”
"You get to date someone older? That's not fair! All I get are immature guys my age."
"Darling, I know you're an adult now, but dating someone significantly older... it just worries me. Are you sure you're on the same page?"
I love him.
At every reaction, you find yourself repeating the same phrase in your mind. It was a simple truth that anchored you amidst the swirl of opinions and doubts. Every concern, every envy—you faced them all with the same unwavering declaration.
But do you really love him?
The question lingered like a shadow, casting doubt on the certainty you had clung to so desperately. You couldn't shake the nagging feeling that perhaps you were merely caught up in the allure of dating someone older, mistaking infatuation for love. Or was it that you longed for attention from an older guy who could fill the void your absent father left?
You craved the paternal presence you had been denied, and in him, you found echoes of the guidance and affection you had longed for.
"Dating someone older? Isn't that a bit... strange?"
"Why? Age is just a number, right?"
"Yeah, but... do you really think you're at the same stage in life?"
Oh, how naively optimistic you were.
Perhaps you have been too quick to dismiss your loved one’s concerns, too eager to embrace the illusion of love in the arms of someone—his arms—who offered the fleeting promise of stability and security.
“But he makes me feel loved and safe,”
“Does he?”
Was your love truly built to withstand the test of time, or was it merely a fleeting illusion, destined to crumble beneath the weight of your differences?
“Darling, can we talk for a moment?”
“Sure, Ma. What’s on your mind?”
"Well, I couldn't help but notice... you seem quite taken with this new guy you're seeing."
"Oh, you mean Leon? Yeah, we've been spending some time together."
"He's... older, isn't he?"
"Um, yeah, he is."
"I see... darling, I just want to make sure you're being careful. Dating someone older can bring its own set of challenges."
"I know, Ma. But he's different. He understands me in a way no one else does."
"I'm sure he does, dear…but promise me you'll take things slow and really get to know him before things get too serious."
"I promise, Mama.”
You've broken many promises with your mama, but why did this one hurt? Is it because you partially blame her for shaping you the way you are? Is it because she married your father? Maybe she would have lived a happier life if it weren't for him, if only.
But you thanked her, both her and him, for the lesson learned, for the wisdom imparted, for the love that had always been there, and for helping you recognise the kind of partner to avoid.
You stood before the polished wooden door of Leon’s home office, your hand hovering in uncertainty over the ornate doorknob. Each second felt like an eternity as you battled with the torrent of doubts and fears that raged within you.
You needed him, wanted him to hold you, and tell you that everything would be fine.
But what if he couldn’t understand your doubts? What if your confession shattered the fragile illusion of your love?
With a steady breath, you pushed aside your apprehensions and grasped the doorknob, steeling yourself for the conversation that lay ahead.
“What’s up, sweetheart?” His voice, gruff yet soft and reassuring, always managed to send shivers down your spine, freezing you in place. You couldn’t find the words to speak, and your throat suddenly dried.
Sensing your hesitation, he beckoned you closer with a gentle smile. You could see the experiences he went through, the complexities of adulthood etched into the lines that creased his weathered face.
“Come here, angel. Sit on my lap while I work.”
You obeyed, crossing the threshold into his office, your feet padding on the wooden floor as you made your way to him. Settling onto his lap, your linen dress pooled around you, the fabric soft against your skin. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you close, his rough touch sent warmth flooding through your veins.
You inhaled his scent, a mixture of citrus and wood, with a hint of something familiar: whisky. You thought he quit. Ready to question him, you opened your mouth, but he stopped you before you could question him.
“Don’t worry your pretty head, princess. I only drank a glass, I promised. I’m just a bit stressed.”
“Mm, okay,” you replied, pushing aside your concerns for the moment as you melted into the warmth of his embrace.
You found solace in the familiar embrace of Leon's arms, the weight of your doubts momentarily forgotten as you leaned into his chest, burying your face against him. A few of his buttons were undone, allowing the soft hairs on his chest to brush against your face.
"Is everything alright, angel?" Leon's voice, soft and concerned, pulled you back to the present moment.
"Yeah, everything's fine. I just want to stay like this, with you," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could second-guess yourself.
His arms tightened around you, drawing you closer, as if he could sense the hesitation in your voice. "Me too, princess. Me too," his stubble pricked your forehead as he murmured against them.
Oh, how weak you were. His voice and touch alone melted you into a puddle, and all your problems seemed to vanish in his embrace. Your mama wouldn’t be happy with how you turned out; she wished that you would never let a man make you weak like she was.
Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to sink deeper into his embrace, letting go of the weight of your doubts and worries. In this moment, all that mattered was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against yours.
Perhaps one day, when the time was right, you would find the courage to open up to him about your inner struggles. Until then, you cherished this moment, clawing in the warmth of his love.
Pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, Leon whispered softly, "I love you, angel.”
“I love you, too, Leon, always,” you replied. The words were a vow of unwavering devotion and love…was it really?
All women become like their mothers. That is their tragedy. No man does, and that is his.
- Oscar Wilde
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So, I noticed that people tend to notice P is not human, not from the way he looks, but from the way he sounds.
I can hear your springs even if you try to hide them. We musicians have a keen ear, you know. (White lady)
I hear the sound of springs inside you... You're a puppet too! (The Survivor)
[btw I'm going to be paraphrasing quotes and details from memory so I can get this out rather rapidly, so my apologies if they're somewhat incorrect]
Claudia and Lucio give no indication that they know about P not being human. Up until mid-game, they only really treat him as another stalker to con. The black rabbit brotherhood seem to know, but mainly because they know we're specifically "Geppetto's puppet."
I think that Claudia and Lucio find out because they either hear the brotherhood during the fight or Simon tells them as much, because Lucio calls us a "goddamn talking rag-doll" before he attacks us if you choose to fight.
The Black Rabbit Brotherhood and their connection to Carlo
And speaking of which - the brotherhood seems to know immediately that we are "Geppetto's puppet". Which makes me wonder... they seem to have known Carlo or known of Carlo while he was alive, which is probably how they put two and two together and guessed the obvious conclusion of how we came to be, which is the case with Antonia:
Oh, I knew you were Geppetto's puppet the moment I saw you (Antonia)
Is that Tenma's boy? >
It can't be Tenma's boy.
Holy cow, Tenma must have lost his mind (From Astro Boy 2009)
They also have Carlo's painting and the gravesite which is guessed to perhaps contain Carlo's empty grave has the mark of the black rabbit brotherhood on it. Geppetto also says he had no idea the BRB had stolen the painting.
A child who was a blessing to their family lies here. May he rest in peace. (Malum grave)
[Also I'm wildin now but korean pronouns are usually non-gender specific, so maybe it wasn't a "he" originally? this throws a whole bunch of other things into question though which I actually really don't like]
So, I thought of ways that ALL of these things could be true: That this IS carlo's grave in the malum district (which is strange because why would an aristocratic son be buried in Malum), the grave is empty because Carlo's body is still in the suitcase, the brb mark on his grave makes sense, AND the BRB having the painting is more than just a coincidence.
I have the most bizarre headcanon now. The BRB are a bunch of awful thugs for issuing "protection fees", but still, what IF:
They seem very hostile to us, particularly because we are a puppet, but maybe also because of our resemblance to Carlo - not because they resented him, but because Carlo was dear to them somehow. And the empty grave in the district was set up by them privately to commemorate his death when they heard what happened, (and the "family" they are referring to are themselves!). It's also worth noting that in the original story, The rabbits are aligned with the blue fairy (which would be Sophia in this iteration). [They're also associated with coffins and graves.]
I had no idea the black rabbit brotherhood had stolen it. (Geppetto on the painting)
The black rabbit brotherhood! I hate these guys. <- Gemini immediately remembers them. [They also appear very early on in the game, I guess to show they were watching us?]
So maybe their resentment and disgust for P comes from the fact that they know Geppetto has made an artificial replica of someone they knew into something they hated (puppets!), which they would see as repulsive. Perhaps there's an actual reason why the BRB has the painting. What exactly went down at the monad charity house?
...
extra notes
[The BRB knowing about Carlo doesn't mean they personally knew Carlo (since Geppetto must've been famous), but it's something. The thing is, both Eugenie and Venigni don't seem to recognize who we're "supposed" to be at all, even Venigni who is said to have been a close colleague to Geppetto. Maybe Eugenie and Venigni are just super polite and don't want to mention Carlo at all to us, but I kinda get the feeling that the public never really knew Carlo existed, Geppetto did dump him off at a boarding school early on after all]
[also also!! the golden stargazer next to the grave for DLC, Carlo being associated with ships, and the DLC showing a nautical theme?]
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My Husband has a Symbiote! Pt.4
Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4
Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Content: Miguel is showing off his breeding kink again, somnophilia, oral sex, pregnancy sex (kinda), MINORS DNI!!
Summary: It's the big thing you've all been waiting for.
A/N: Every time I write Miguel with a symbiote, I go crazy. He just brings that feral part out of me. Enjoy!
You felt exhausted.
The weight of your exhaustion felt like a ton. You could barely move your body, struggling to even get to the bathroom. You managed to make it to the sink as you leaned on it for support. Your eyes are fighting to keep open. All you wanted to do was rest.
“You should take Ravage.” Miguel stood close by, a hand on your back. His voice lingered with concern, “They'll make you feel better.”
You shook your head, “I had them the other day.” You agreed to take the symbiote once a week. Just so you wouldn't get addicted to having them attached to you. You didn't want to take advantage of using the alien either.
“You've been feeling this way for a few weeks. I don't like it, we should get you to a doctor.” You grimaced at your husband's concern. “Don't be like that. We have to see what's going on.”
You glared at him, annoyance brewing inside. “We’ve been having sex nonstop. Don't you think I'd be tired?”
“Obviously.” He rolled his eyes, “But you're never like this.”
“I'm fine, Miguel. I just need to sleep.” You brushed by him, completely forgetting whatever you were supposed to be doing in the bathroom. Instead, you burrowed yourself under the blankets, getting comfortable in bed.
You thought due to the constant love making your body had enough. Punishing you by making you sleep for hours on end. Only getting enough energy for potty breaks and to eat something. Before sleeping again. It was getting so bad that you had to take some days off of work. You were shutting yourself inside your bedroom, determined to rest.
On your days having Ravage, you felt normal. Going through your day-to-day routine with no issues. Not getting irritated at Miguel or eating your weight in food.
Ravage hummed in your mind as you worked, feeling rejuvenated. “Should we tell you?”
“Hm?” You perked up, “Tell me what?”
A guttural growl erupted from the alien, “But if we tell you, there will be little intercourse.”
“What? Ravage, what are you talking about?”
There was silence on their end. You wondered if they were just ignoring you. But you finally got a response, “Nothing.”
You weren't sure how to take the mysterious behavior. You didn't see any concern for you to bring it up to Miguel. Only forgetting about it when your symptoms came back after handing Ravage back. Maybe it was time to go to the doctor's.
Miguel was close by as he took you to HQ's infirmary. He was worried that if it was something the symbiote was doing to you, no regular doctor could fix it. You sat on the cot, lowered eyes watching your husband pace around the room. Your stomach churned thinking about how you made him stress over you. Due to your stubbornness of not wanting to be seen. Hopefully, this was just a really bad cold so he wouldn't have to worry.
While explaining your symptoms, your spider-doctor, that's what you usually called them, lit up with an idea. And didn't elaborate further when saying they wanted to perform some tests. Miguel stayed by your side, holding your hand to calm himself for whatever's going on. He's usually touchy feely when he's nervous or stressed.
At what felt like hours, which was only 20 minutes, the doctor came back with the test results.
You were pregnant.
The doctor showed you the positive results so you could see with their own eyes. The bolded, green colored word succumbed to their vision. You was pregnant. They were going to have a baby.
Your heart pounded in your chest at the exciting news. For some reason, the idea was way below your thoughts as you didn't think you were showing any of the common symptoms. The spider-doctor reassured you that each person was different in terms of pregnancy. Some checked off all the boxes in terms of the symptoms. Others wouldn't even know if they were pregnant until their belly got bigger.
Miguel’s hand pressed against your stomach, face filled with a mix of disbelief and happiness. “We’re having a baby.”
“Yeah.” You placed a hand on top of his, “We are.”
The doctor recommended you continue getting rest. The exhaustion will fade away in due time but other symptoms may appear. Heavy eating, nausea or vomiting, mood swings, and back pain. You were more concerned about work, knowing you didn't have infinite time to take off. You couldn't take off a bunch of times to rest. Miguel said he would take care of it, even offering to pay your salary if you didn’t have any time left.
In fact, once you got home, a flip switched inside him.
He was usually attentive, close by and understanding. Now he was that by tenfold. When you arrived home, he constantly asked how you were feeling. If you needed to lie down or eat. You let him fret over you as he carried you to bed. You were feeling peckish so he gave you a list of food he could get. So you settled on pizza.
Constant messages appeared saying congratulations. Someone must've heard the spider doctors give the news. Now your watch blew up with activity of spiders wishing you well. Multiple requests appeared, asking if they could babysit the baby once they were born. You particularly noticed ones from Ben who also ended up coming over to make sure he was the first person to be called to watch the baby. You couldn’t say no to those cute puppy dog eyes.
Jess also stopped by in person to congratulate you, just as excited at her baby finally having another kid to play with. She went over her entire pregnancy experience to give you some tips. How she had the weirdest cravings like pickles with chocolate ice cream. Or how her bump got in the way a few times. Although, you knew the experiences were going to be different at the fact you were talking to a superhero. Who still fought crime while pregnant with her baby. You weren't sure you could make it to the bathroom in your current state.
Peter B. and MJ also came over one day to offer endless amounts of advice when it comes to babies. And their own experience with Mayday.
“Peter had sympathetic pregnancy for a while.” MJ admitted, causing Miguel and you to raise their brows in surprise. “He was miserable around the last couple of months.”
“I swear to you, my back was hurting all the time. I was bloated and nauseous. I'm surprised we didn't have two babies when Mayday was born.”
You laughed at Peter, “Poor you.”
“Of course he'd get that.” Miguel shook his head, close to you as you all sat on the couch.
“Hey, don't be surprised when you suddenly start feeling gassy. I was just happy to finally relate to my lady.” Peter gave a gentle kiss on MJ's forehead.
The married couple also left tons of material involving babies for them to read. Self-help books, videos, even started giving them some of Mayday's baby clothes to help prepare. You were excited to finally start planning for the baby to arrive if you could stop feeling so tired first.
You were lucky to have a wonderful husband.
Miguel made it a point to do everything in the house. Cook and clean. Tidy up the house if it needs tending. He often did his part around the house when you weren't pregnant. Now, he insisted on doing everything for you. Emphasizing that your rest was important. That he wasn’t going to let you overexert yourself if he was there. All while caressing you for reassurance.
He had also gotten more handsy than usual.
He was constantly nearby when he didn’t have to work. A hand on your belly, gently pressing against it. His warmth comforted you and soothed any worries you might have had about the baby. Soon, his hand went upward, a feel of your breast and a grunt in your ear. His hips rocking against your plump bottom. You wiggled your ass against his in small reciprocation but a yawn combated your rising arousal.
That made him stop.
“You should get some rest, baby.”
You shook your head, “I'm fine, we can-” Another yawn occurred, denouncing any argument you had.
“Let’s just sleep.” Miguel kissed your forehead before leading you to bed. You noticed his bulge and your stomach twisted with guilt. Miguel was extremely understanding, not once making you feel bad of your decreased energy. But you knew it wouldn't last long. You had read those horror stories of husband’s not desiring their partner as they were pregnant. Which led to frustrations or cheating. You knew your husband wouldn’t ever do that to you. But you couldn’t help but worry.
You had a proposition for him after making out with your husband one evening. Miguel gazed at you with apparent lust as he groped and kissed you with a burning passion. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” He gave you a gentle kiss. “My wife is pregnant. Why wouldn't I be?”
Your fingers laced through his own, “I just thought you were nervous. Since we're going to be parents.”
“I am. The thought of us with a child excites me and scares me…” You could feel a ‘but’ coming as he continued, “but seeing you like this, gets me going. Like I want to make sure you stay pregnant.”
His crimson eyes lowered, entranced at the sight of your belly. It hasn't grown much yet, still early for you to be showing. A shiver went down your spine at his gaze, “Is this you talking or Ravage?”
“No, no I think this is all me.” Miguel pulled you in close, hands remaining on your hips. “I want to make sure you stay knocked up. Be by baby making machine…” You noticed his breathing getting heavier at him riling himself up. “But you've been tired and you have no obligation to indulge me. I'm not going to exhaust you out further.” That's when he reluctantly parted, showing some restraint.
“Well, I did have an idea.” You started to say. You had been talking about messing around while the other was asleep. It was consensual and only if the other was extremely tired and couldn't participate as much. You thought this would be a great time to try. “You have my permission to use me while I'm asleep.”
Miguel perked up, “Really?” You nodded, “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this for me.” You nodded again, letting out a small laugh.
“I want to do this. Just be gentle. I'd rather not wake up to you jostling me all over the place.”
“I will.” He pulled you back in for a hug, holding you tight.
You thought this would be the beginning of him using you while you slept. But after a few days of permission, there was nothing. You felt the same after waking up for the day or from your naps. No clear evidence of you being fondled. No delightful warmness between your thighs. Miguel was cautious. You thought he wasn't ready to do that.
Until you had an incredible dream. One where he was behind you in bed, a leg draped across his arm, cock buried inside you. He was in his symbiote suit again as the large shaft was splitting you open. You heaved from the aching sensation, mind heavy and focused on him being inside. Whimpering his name as he gently thrusts into you.
Your walls are squeezing him as you climax, wrapped in bliss. He's never too far behind, his voice strained as he comes inside, lazy pumping into you to make sure not a drop is missed. The dream ended with a kiss and when you awoke, your body felt like liquid. Your attire was still the same, usually a pair of shorts with a large tshirt but your sex warm. Legs slightly sore and Miguel snoring peacefully from behind. A strong arm wrapped around the area where their child is forming.
You never caught the actions while you slept. Your dreams gave you a clear indication of what he was doing to you. Giving you satisfaction while also ensuring he didn't wake you.
Slowly, your exhaustion started to fade. The need for naps lessened, but you were still tired. So when you took a nap on the couch, that pleasant dream was coming back again. This time Miguel was buried between your legs, tasting you like there was no tomorrow. You sighed in relief before waking up to see the real thing.
The hunched position of his symbiote form over the armrest of the couch. Spreading your legs wide and pinning you down against the cushions to keep you still. Miguel made it a mission to remember every taste of you, his long tongue running along your folds, stimulating your clit.
“Miguel…” You moaned, eyes lowered at the sight. His head raised, eyes boring into yours in lust.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”
“It's fine.” You muttered, “Don't stop…” You pushed his head back down and he obliged. The small lick and sucking sounds would make you blush if you weren't half asleep. But the occasional growl against your sex made you curl your toes. You sighed, feeling your body warm up. Your fingers dug into the pillow under you while you shifted under his hold. Miguel continued to press further into you, moaning against your sex like a starved man.
That familiar feeling pooled in your stomach, your breaths getting short. Lips parting to release the sound of ecstacy. Creating warmth around your frame. You weren't sure how long Miguel was eating you out as his mouth shined in the light.
“You should continue to get some rest.” Miguel’s gigantic frame towered over you, the sofa creaking from the weight. “I can take care of you.”
Your mind was long gone as his hips rolled against yours, entering you slowly. Hard thrusts savoring the moment. Watching you sleepily cry out for him below, the grip on his bicep non-existent. Tears fell from the corners of your eyes as you begged for him to not stop.
“We're gonna make sure our kid has a sibling.” He grunted, face twisted in pleasure. “A brother? A sister? Maybe if we're lucky, twins…”
You gasped, arching your back as another climax took you by surprise. Miguel’s own thrusts started to falter, his cum shooting inside quicker than he could blink. Once again he made sure you took it all, not missing a single drop.
He buried his face on your head, the symbiote suit disappearing and showing off his naked form. Miguel held you close as if he missed the heat from your skin. “I'm sorry…I really didn't mean to wake you.”
Your heart melted at his large eyes filled with guilt.
“It's okay. It was nice to wake up to.” Your lips found his again to give a soft kiss. Miguel lifted you up, still adamant on making sure she had enough sleep by carrying her to the bedroom.
Soon, you were starting to show. And your energy was back to normal. No more sleeping all day. Your mind became clearer. Which made you finally think about your extra guest.
Miguel said he'd get rid of Ravage after it was clear you were pregnant. Yet, it’s been a few months since then and the symbiote was still here. No one brought it up so of course you had to be the one to do it.
“So? When is Ravage leaving?” Miguel paused in the middle of his work, not saying anything for a bit. You could tell they were speaking as the silence lingered in his lab. “Miguel-”
“Ravage thought they could stay a little longer. At least until the baby is born.” He interrupted.
You purse your lips, “That's not what we agreed on.”
Your tone didn't match up with your words. In all honesty, you didn't want Ravage to go. It was bad enough Miguel had to cut off them from being attached to you after you got pregnant. Not wanting to affect the baby. But you missed them. Feeding them chocolate bars or hot cocoa. Keeping you company when Miguel had to work late. It was odd to develop a decent relationship with an alien but you had to remind yourself that your entire life was weird.
“We won't cause any harm to the child.” Ravage came out to say. “Your husband's been making us watch baby videos. Their laughs are infectious.”
Your brows furrowed at the thought of the symbiote watching baby videos, “You serious?”
“Yes.” They said, “We have no urge to eat the baby anymore.”
“Anymore.” You pointed out, “That means you thought about it.”
“Multiple times.”
Miguel quickly cut in, “But they said they don't want to do that now.” He held your hands, “You know I don't want anything to happen to this baby, right?” You squeezed his hands, believing him wholeheartedly. “I promise you, I will die before I let anything happen to our kid. Trust me. Trust us.”
“You know I do.” You embraced him, head in his chest.
Somehow, that comforted you. You agreed to at least let them stay until the baby was born. Although, in the back of your mind, you had a feeling they may be keeping them much longer than that.
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