#i was having such a rough day but i think this cured me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pacentia · 7 months

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Title: Forever

Summary: After BG3 events, Astarion and reader feel ready for a child.

Pairing: established relationship fem!reader x Astarion

Tags: NSFW, rough sex, sweetness, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, bloodsucking, kissing, L-bombs

Word count: 1,704

Note: listen up folks. no idea if vampires thralls can make people pregnant. but in my world they can. Pls enjoy. i haven't finished the game, so this is my own fantasy after bg3 events:)). Drabble/fic/headcanon requests about our darling husband are welcome :))

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months and eventually months into years, together with your darling Astarion. After the events of tadpoles, mindflayers and vampire masters, the time had come to settle down and live quietly, close to Baldur's gate city. Close enough for easy supply runs, yet far enough to enjoy the privacy of your very own house. Astarion was quick to realize he'd want no one else in his eternal life but you - and asked you - on one knee - to be his forever.

The wedding was held shortly after, with only a close circle of your friends present. Karlach shed a tear from happiness - knowing you two were destined to be together, while Halsin felt just… Bittersweet. Astarion wed a fine woman, although he was secretly convinced that an Druid like himself: alive, warm, and aging could take better care of your needs.

This was often also the subject of certain discussions that popped up in your marriage as you were reading in the garden, or drinking hot tea beside the hearthfire. Worries that washed over him about the coldness of his touch - or the eventual loss he would have to endure somewhere in the far future, when you would eventually lose the battle against time. You understood where his worries came from, but you were always there to comfort your darling husband. You possessed no interest in anyone's touch but his and you pledged to him that you'd always be present in his undead heart.

Of course, the latter made you interested in if his vampirism could be cured or, if you could transform into one. Yet, both choices were frustratingly impossible. Curing him would just mean ending him, heaven's forbid. Transforming yourself would mean serving another vampire lord, a fate that Astarion would never want you to experience.

Though tonight - nothing of that sort mattered and you found yourself intertwined in one another, the soft duvet covering your bare bodies. Your fingers played with his light-grey curls, while his arms were wrapped around your shoulders, ready for bed.

"Say, love," Astarion suddenly spoke up, "I heard you took care of a lost little girl in the city today."

Right. A young Tiefling girl had lost her mother inbetween the packed crowds of the city, and the girl came to you for help. How exactly did Astarion know that?

"Karlach told me of course." The vampire stated as a matter of fact. "She saw you and passed by this noon for tea." You nodded and explained the situation - how you held the little girl's hand right until you found her mother together. The woman thanked you over and over again.

A small silence fell between you two, until the man continued his stream of thoughts, "Karlach then asked me if we'd ever have children and I said that I didn't know what you would think of it and I -" Astarion's gaze avoided yours until he remembered he was probably rambling again, "Sorry love, I just wanted to know if you and I could have that sort of future together?"

Your heart fluttered at the thought of Astarion as a father. He'd definitely spoil his little ones and love them unconditionally.

"A little one to raise in our house." The pale man smiled, lost in his thoughts. "We already have a spare room that we could decorate for them."

Of course those thoughts had crossed your mind. It would be a new chapter in both of your lives, and you felt ready to take it on together with him. Behind his cheeky and often sarcastic banter, there was a sweet and caring man - only revealed to the closest ones he trusted.

"You know they'll be incredibly mischievous and stubborn, right?" You smirked up at him, to which the vampire quickly retaliated, "Darling, you wound me. Besides, that's why you're there to teach them kindness." Astarion sing-songed, nuzzling into your hair.

No hesitation was present in your words, '"Of course, Astarion. I want this with you." You smiled sweetly, gently guiding his cold digits over your belly, making your vampire husband rub it with such fondness.

Something within him stirred, yet another level of deeper protectiveness that he would soon feel over you. Any other man that would come too close to you, would feel his deadly fangs buried into their jugular. Rip them to shreds. Kill them in cold blood. In fact, it made him involuntarily bare his fangs to you, accompanied by a low growl reverberating in his chest.

You grinned at his primal reaction, and whispered as you caressed his chin, "Dear Sir, you know you can't drink anything from me when you've put your little one in me, right?"

He was taken by a frenzy, and rolled his heavy body over yours - his nose buried into your neck, inhaling the delicious smell of your perfect blood. His cock hardened at the thought of drinking from you, his icy tongue lapping over the countless bite marks that he'd decorated your neck with.

"I know, sweet love. Sadly, I'll have to return to …inferior blood." An adorable pout covered his beautiful features - which made your heart flutter.

"You should get to work then, my love." You whispered in his pointy ear, pressing small kisses along his cheekbone, and you wrapped your legs around his strong back. The vampire chuckled at your words, "Oh, darling." He groaned, elated to see you so eager to get bred by him. His hardness teased over your wet and warm folds, making himself slick before he'd slide home. His arms snaked under yours, to completely wrap himself around you protectively, burying his face into your neck. The intoxicating smell of your blood so close to his lips, made him lose control over his pace and bucked his strong core into yours, drenched cock sliding deep in your sex.

"Fuck, Astarion…" You gasped in pleasure, his large cock burying itself deep deep deep within your folds. The vampire watched your features contort into pure bliss, and bit his lips in return - until he was nestled as deep as possible.

"This is what you want, isn't it, my darling?" Astarion whispered, while you clawed at his back - sweet agony from his pressure on your cervix. His way with words was too much to bear. Icy lips found your ear again, dripping with sin, "Completely inside your warm, wet, delicious cunt."

You could only whimper Astarion and nod, your fingers buried in his soft curls, as his hips started to gently, slowly thrust inside you. His cock felt so perfect. Big, firm, as if he was carved just for you.

"Fuck, darling," Your husband growled, losing himself deep inside you, speeding up his pace, shifting his position so that he could hold onto your hips for leverage. His red eyes feasted on your body, the most beautiful creature he'd ever set his gaze on. He could hear your heart beating faster. Blood pumping through your veins. Cheeks flushed red. He was salivating for you.

"Please, Astarion…" You cried out in delicious agony, needy for him to grab and fuck you harder. Impregnate you. Show Faerûn that you completely belong to him.

"What is it, my love?" He growled with bared teeth, sounds of wet, sloppy thrusts filling the bedroom.

"Bite me once more." You begged, holding onto his strong shoulders, "Just one last time, please."

Yes. One more time he could have you. His sanguine hunger kicked in, and he couldn't restrain himself anymore, "Oh my, darling…" He moaned In relief, his thrusts never faltering, thanking you over and over again for your gift - until he set his fangs in your neck.

One last time that sharp, ice-cold feeling washed over your senses - unable to move or do anything. Delicious pain mixed with heavenly pleasure, both of your orgasms were nearing. No combination more delicious for your husband - your fresh blood spilling from his lips and your cunt wrapped tightly around him. Pleasure welled up inside of your belly, enduring your vampire's violent kiss - until you reached your peak while he drank from your neck.

His digits dug into the sheets, pupils dilated as he released from your neck in time, overcome with adrenaline and power.

"That's it, my darling…"

His thrusts became harder, faster - his bloody lips finding yours, tongue invading your mouth. You were absolutely spent already, having lost nearly two pints of your blood again - so you held onto him for dear life. The metallic taste of your blood made you nearly gag if he wasn't lapping it up off your lips like a hungered animal.

"Astarion, fuck… Make me fucking pregnant." You cried desperately against his lips, his big cock bumping against your cervix with each thrust. And like always, he delivered your plea - and with a deep and primal groan he reached his peak. "Fuck, oh - Fuck - darling!" He growled with bloody fangs, his crimson eyes rolling in the back of his head, jets of his release splattering right against your cervix. Filled up to the brim.

Sated with blood and pleasure, he collapsed on top of you, holding you dearly in the afterglow of your pleasure. Sweaty, bloody bodies pressed against each other. His face buried against the side of your neck, lapping remnants of your blood one last time.

"Can't get enough of it, can't you, sweet?" You grinned.

"Never, my love." He smiled against your flesh as his cold hand gently caressed your lower belly - hoping that his love would nestle itself deep inside of you tonight.

"I love you, Astarion."

"And I love you, my darling. Forever."

#astarion x you #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction

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shoddynomenclature · 3 months

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Heya 👋 I enjoy reading your headcanons, and I love your prompts… could you write the ladies for #5 Tav fainting from a hidden injury?

Tav Faints Due to Hidden Injury

Hey! I always enjoy reading yours as well! Feel free to use any of those prompts as I’d love to see your take on them.

I probably won’t do anything more injury prompts for a while; there’s only so many ways I can hurt poor Tav.

Here’s prompt #5 for Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara.

On the way into Baldur’s Gate, while all of your companions watch the lands free themselves of the shadow curse, you manage to walk carelessly into a broken cart handle. You’re no healer, but you know Shadowheart is going to have a thing or two to say if you ask her to patch it up. You decide it doesn’t look that bad, and patch it up yourself. It’s an exciting day, finally arriving in the city. Why bring down the mood with a fresh gash in the side?

Shadowheart

The two of you are taking a short walk to familiarize yourselves with the new camp at Wrym’s Lookout.

You had been trying to keep your cool, but as you climbed up ladders and dodged rumble, you felt the ache in your side start to grow.

You stop and lean against a beam for support, clutching your side and breathing heavily.

“Are you alright, love?” Shadowheart asks tenderly, approaching you slowly before you quickly collapse on the ground.

She rushes over, trying and failing to catch you. She rolls you over on your back, lifting your shirt.

She sees the makeshift bandages you’ve wrapped yourself in and carefully slices away at them with her dagger.

She flinches, seeing the deep gash in your skin. Luckily, you just happen to be in love with one of the best clerics around. A cure wounds spell patches you right up.

You wake up almost immediately to a very unhappy looking Shadowheart.

“Care to explain the massive laceration I just found under your shirt?” She quips. “Or, are we just withholding such information with one another these days.”

“You’re one to talk about withholding information,” you attempt to joke.

She does not laugh. “So I suppose you’ve just forgotten how you acquired such a wound?”

You sighed. “It was on the bridge on the way over. I-I impaled myself with a piece of wood.”

She hits the back of your head with the back of her hand. “Ow!” You shout.

“It would’ve taken me two seconds to heal that wound up fresh. Now you’ve probably got a variety of different diseases swimming around from how poorly you packed it.”

She reaches out a hand to help you to your feet. “Let’s go,” she says. “I’m going to teach you how to properly wrap a wound.”

Lae’zel

You and Lae’zel walk alongside the city walls, just outside the city. Looking for clear signs of damage from the Netherbrain.

She comments a few times on how you are moving slower than usual. “We cannot afford to be so sluggish in the days to come,” she tells you.

It isn’t until you fade paler than Vlaakith herself that she notices something is seriously wrong. You fall to the ground before she can think to catch you.

She notices blood beginning to speckle your undershirt. “Tsk’va!” She curses, cutting away the fabric entirely.

You’re too far from camp and losing too much blood for her to get you back in time. She’s going to have to deal with this herself.

But she couldn’t tell you the first thing about closing a wound.

Hair. She remembers a ghustil sewing her up with a strand of her own hair. She plucks a hair from your head and gets to work.

You wake up halfway through the delicate operation, half crying from the pain of the repeated rough stabbing of your already tender wound.

“Silence!” She shouts, lazer focused on the task at hand. It doesn’t take a psionic tadpole connection to tell that she is angry.

When she’s finally finished, the wound looks… unpleasant to put it mildly. But it should be enough to get you back to camp.

“I didn’t think I needed to explain to you the stupidity of hiding grave afflictions,” she spits.

You open your mouth to apologize, but she cuts you off. “I will not hear apologies, only promises that it will not happen again.”

Karlach

Growing up on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate, Karlach is all too excited to revisit some of her favorite places with you.

Her excitement makes for an easy distraction. She is so focused on her surroundings she doesn’t notice the way you grind your teeth together in pain.

“Hey Soldier, check this out,” she shouts excitedly, walking back towards you with some cool plants she found.

You try to smile, but whiteness clouds your vision as you fall to the ground. She drops the plant and runs to hold you up.

“Soldier? You know you’re not supposed to go and pass out on me. I don’t know how to…”

Panic starts to rise in her chest and she lays you gently on the ground. “Alright Karlach, you got this,” she assures herself.

She lifts the base of your shirt, starting to panic again when she sees the blood soaked bandages.

She gingerly removes them revealing the nasty gash underneath. “Oh boy, you really did a number on yourself,” she says.

She looks around, trying to find absolutely anything that could close the wound. She didn’t know any spells, nor did she know anything about sutures.

She sighed. She had an idea, but she didn’t like it. “Okay soldier, I’m just gonna need you to stay asleep for a little while longer. Can you do that for me?”

Dammon had fixed up her engine so she didn’t burn so hot anymore, but she was pretty sure she could just get hot enough….

She pinched the wound together, then, with clenched teeth, she placed her other hand on top of it. She channeled all of her anger until she smelt the burning of flesh.

You jolted awake with a scream and she pulled away. The wound was now replaced with a cauterized burn.

“It worked! You’re okay!” She exclaimed, rather impressed with herself. “You are never allowed to do that to me again.”

You groan, sitting up. Your head is still spinning from pain and blood loss. You sway ever so slightly.

“Woah, slow down there soldier,” Karlach says, gently pushing you back to lie down. “Again does include right now, you know. Come on. Let’s get you back to camp.”

Minthara

You and Minthara take a stroll around the outer city, allowing her to take in a surface city for the first time.

Not far into your walk though, you begin to feel lightheaded. “Minthara I think I need to sit-“ you are cut off abruptly by your own collapse.

You fall limp onto the cobblestone on the city streets.

She is quickly down beside, cooling your face with her cool hands. It’s only then she notices the bloody bandages under your shirt.

Confused, she cuts away with them away, revealing your injury.

Her face immediately pales. The wound is mild, nothing she is incapable of handling with a simple laying of hand. But you kept this from her.

She patches the wound with a gentle touch. But her mind continues to race. Why would you not tell her? Do you not trust her? Should she trust you?

You stir awake with a whine. The pain in your side is dulled, and you’re able to sit up with relative ease.

Minthara stares harshly back at you, silently awaiting an explanation. When you don’t offer one she asks, “why have you kept this from me?” She tries to hide her hurt behind anger.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize. “It’s just- I knew you were excited to see the city- and it was a stupid injury anyway I just- I didn’t want to be a bother.“

She looks dissatisfied with your answer. “We do not keep such grave secrets from one another. My trust is a fragile thing.”

You sigh, defeated. “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

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whereireid · 1 year

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𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐇 — based on this ask | masterlist

pairing: miles quaritch x fem!reader

Summary: What Colonel Quaritch misses most about planet Earth are the woman. Luckily, you're a human whose more than eager to please to your superior.

— warnings: interspecies relationship ! nsfw content MDNI: tit fucking, imbalance of power, ruts

There is nothing that Colonel Quartich misses about Earth.

Nothing but the women.

Pandora is beautiful. A world with extravagant wildlife, the nature of the planet so beautiful and blue, with specks of lilac purple and lavender hues. It's foolish to not be in awe of such beauty, and Quaritch is no fool. He is in awe of everything that Pandora has to offer.

Except the women.

The women of Pandora. The Na'vi, and the Avatars, made of carbon fibre — body hard, rigid and strong, conditioned to survive the difficult climate. Though beautiful, with specks of Aqua blue and long, delicate limbs, they're not plush. There's nothing soft about the women of Pandora.

Quaritch wishes that he could be attracted to them. Especially since a perk of being an Avatar now means he suffers through a rut — a period where he literally gets so horny that the only way to cure his arousal is to fuck something.

Anything.

Even when in a rut, though, he can't bring himself to do it. His hands will linger on an Avatar, falling on their skin, which is hard and rough, and every feeling of arousal will disappear.

Quaritch needs relief. Desperately. His hand isn't enough anymore — it just leaves him with more frustration than before he even tried.

So, when he spots you, it feels like fate.

You're a scientist, a newbie, with pinned-up hair, two curls crusading down the sides of your face, a soft smile on your lips. A soft smile, which meets your eyes and has the corners crinkling. His eyes fall, tracing your body with his eyes, and he realises that he's found exactly what he's been looking for.

Quaritch waits, and watches. He's not sure when the right time to approach even is. He's been out of the game for a long time, now — the women of Pandora don't need charisma. They're easily pleased.

So, when you approach Quaritch, he's incredibly thankful.

"Colonel," you squeak, staring up at your superior officer, your small frame practically trembling beneath him. "I was asked by some of the other members of the science team, to ask you if on your next mission to the forests of Pandora, if — if you could bring back some fresh fruit."

He blinks down at you. Once, twice. You shuffle on your feet, neck craned in an impossibly awkward position to be able to see him. You're smiling, and it doesn't waver. Not even when he scowls, and grunts, "I can."

"You — you can?"

"Do you make your other superior officers repeat themselves?" Quaritch asks, trying to ignore the discomfort in his pants when your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"No, Colonel."

"I didn't think so." He kisses his teeth, tongue darting over his fangs. "I can get you the fruit, but only if you can do something for me."

"Anything."

Quaritch smiles.

That's how he manages to sort his issues out.

You're so delicate that it drives him crazy. All sense of dignity was abandoned long ago, when he'd first made his proposal — how could you say no to somebody whose so desperate for relief? Perhaps you are, too, with your crush on the Colonel consuming you, day-in, day-out.

"You're so soft," he says, his voice so low that it sounds like he's growling. His fingers toy with your nipples, rolling the buds between his fingers, watching as your breath hitches as he does so. "Sunshine, you have got no fuckin' idea how hard you make me."

"Show me," you whisper, voice sultry and seductive, tensing as he fingers pinch at your nipples gently.

There's nothing more perfect than you. In that moment, every issue of Quaritch's erodes away. He's got you exactly where he wants you — on your knees, your tits pushed together as much as they possibly can be, his cock sheathed between them.

"That hurt, sunshine? Squeezin' 'em so tight just to please me?"

You nod your head, your lips drawn between your teeth, your eyebrows crinkled in concentration. His cock is all lubed up, making it that much more slippery. It's so soft, so plush, your tits so perfect and round. So big, on human standards, but so small in comparison to his cock.

Holy shit, you're perfect.

You let him use your tits like you're a fuck-doll. Quaritch fucks into you, rolling his hips into your tits, groaning as the squelching sounds of the lube clap around his office. They bounce, they jiggle, they take him so well, and your eyes are so focused and you're pushing your tits together so hard, just so he can get a good grip.

It makes his orgasm that much better. His cock twitches, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. There's a heat which pools in his lower belly as he finishes, painting your chest with his cum, some shooting onto your chin and lips.

You're such a pretty mess. Quaritch collects his cum from your face, pushing it between your lips, and you suck, and he groans. His cock is still nestled between your tits, basking in the softness of you, the pillow-like cushion of your flesh.

He's going to have to do this again.

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unluckilyimnot · 2 months

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Hello^^can I please ask for headcannons with izana, mikey, baji and ran with reader who has eating disorder (like cassie from skins:( ) please don't do this if you're not comfortable

S/o with ed

Characters : Izana, Mikey, Ran

Type : angst, hurt to comfort

Words count : 0.8

It’s fine, I can write about it, it’s just the same as an old one I did : I speak as a girl who experienced it in a certain way (which is not as “hard” as Cassie) so I’ll do my best and I don’t mean any hurt it can cause. If you’re struggling with ed we can talk about it if you feel like it, but at least don’t hesitate to talk about it. You can get through it even if it’s hard (I did but I’m not cured at all)

I love you, take care of yourself and people around you ♡

Izana noticed quickly how you start to eat less and less. He cooks for you both the most and he can’t help but notice how a picky eater you’ve slowly become until eating barely enough to go on. As a small eater himself, he gets more and more worried when you start eating less than him. He knows you’ve never really been comfortable with your body and so, losing weight isn’t a bad idea if you feel like it’s what you need.

Yet, it got out of hand when he finally noticed your showing ribs even when you’re not stretching or breathing out. He sees them a little too much to his liking.

“You can’t go on like this.” he pointed out one day, during a meal. You haven’t touched your plate and you gulped at his words. “It’s not too much,” he added, pointing to your plate, “you’ll have to learn to eat again now.” he paused, waiting for your answer that is never coming. “It’s ok to be a small eater, but not to not eat at all.”

You clenched your jaw. As if you don’t know it well enough. As if you could just eat like that after all this time. His words hurt you more than anything, you thought he would understand.

“I know it’s hard, you don’t have to go through this alone.”

“You don’t know anything.”

“Darling what do you think ? Have you seen me ? Isn’t it obvious enough ?” You looked at him, thinking about his habits a bit more and the way he looks before it hit you. Your eyes water, you were too focused on yourself to notice him, to even realize.

“We’re in this together.” he said with a smile.

Mikey doesn’t notice. All he noticed is that you’re not eating with him anymore. You go out with him but don’t ask for a bit anymore, nor do you take something for yourself. He doesn’t understand and sadly doesn’t know either how to handle it.

“Why aren’t you taking anything ?” he pouted, almost refusing to eat if you don’t.

“I’m simply not hungry Mikey, it’s fine, eat!”

“You’re never hungry lately !” It sounds more like a tantrum than anything else honestly and you can’t help but lie about it.

“I eat well enough at home, don’t worry. I’m just trying to lose weight lately.”

“What ? No !” you can hear him pouted. “I like you the way you are, I’ll be sad if you lose weight. It wouldn’t feel the same when I’ll hold you. I hate to think about it.”

He was so pure in his words, you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

“I’ll try not to lose too much then.” So you lied again, but seeing his smile was more than enough.

Ran is more than aware of what this is. You sleep too much. He does too, he knows that, but you always seem exhausted. Your skin is dry and almost gray. At first he checked your temperature for a few days, on those when it hit hard. Then he started to look at your activities, you still have to go to uni and stuff, maybe that’s what makes you this irritated. You don’t laugh much these days.

Finally, he started to look out for what you eat and he was met with the terrible truth that you’re not, and that’s probably what’s causing all of that. He has rough memories with that, and he wishes to not live them one more time.

“My love,” he purred into your ear, holding you from behind while you’re cutting some fruits.

“Yeah ?”

“Are you gonna eat more than that ?” You froze in his arms, not knowing what to say. “Would you share some ramen with me ? You don’t have to eat much, just something else other than an apple.”

“Ran I –”

“You know, it happened to my mom,” he cut you. He understands your side, but he wants you to understand his as well. “She was really sick because of this. And well, you know the end,” he snuggles his nose in your neck. “I don’t want this to happen to you.”

You don’t know what to say. It’s easier said than done and you don’t even wanna get better, not now, not now that it’s working and you’re close to your goal. Not now that –

“So, would you ?” but you can’t say no to him. And it’s not too much right. It’s just this time.

“Yeah, ok but just a few bites.”

“Right, I don’t want you to be sick.” he smiled against your skin. “Thank you. I love you”

I skipped baji sorry I hope it’s not your fav, I didn’t have an idea sniff. Mikey’s one is a little simple but young mikey is pure and rather simple minded at first.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers hc #izana imagines #izana x reader #izana x you #izana headcanons #mikey headcanon #mikey imagines #mikey x reader #ran haitani #ran headcanons #ran x reader #ran imagines

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vinnoa-articles · 9 months

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The Wrong Ingredient

[Image by Eiichiro Oda]

Rating: +18, you have been warned. If you are a minor, leave now.

Word count: 3,257

Type: Smut

Characters: reader (AFAB), Sanji, Chopper, Zoro, the Strawhats

Trigger warnings/content: Swearing, rough sex, restraining, cumming without a condom, ass-slapping, very demanding, degrading, insanity, mushrooms/kind of like drug, overstimulation,

“Oog,” the turbulence in his stomach churned like the seas they were riding. There was some uncertainty with how he consumed something so stupidly. There was no way he mixed up the red spotted mushroom over the white spotted mushroom on the counter. There was heat rushing up to his head, to his cock, and the blood pumping in his veins. “Chopper, how long will the effects last?”

“Er…well” There was a pause in the brown fur-ball’s little thought process. “The mushroom that I was going to use to cure people of high desires. Such as money, lust, and others-”

“Get to the point” Sanji finally said, tugging his tie to release some restriction from his body. The heat from his skin felt unbearable. Sweat forming on his brow, his veins pumping red hot, his erection growing more, his chest felt tight, and everything sparkled around him in his eyes. “I need to know doc; I need to know how long this will last and if there is a cure.”

“Sanji, it will last for a day. Unless I had another mushroom, I could definitely make a cure. But-”

“But what? Spit it out!” The cook was restless now. His mind was beginning to cloud up, and his eyes were scanning around for anyone that could fulfill his needs. “God, Chopper. Please-” He nearly bit his tongue. Salivating like he was an animal. There were needs he needed to be met. His chiseled chest felt like he was going to pop out of his dress shirt, along with his cock that needed to breathe.

“That was the only mushroom I had, Sanji.” The creature looked pitiful. He tried to fiddle his fingers to ease the tension in the room. He could not look Sanji in the eye, those sparkly East Blue eyes now turning into the depths of the sea. Nearly far too gone. “But, it could end quickly if your needs are met! But I think I know what it is,” Chopper stated while sweating. They BOTH knew what it was, but they also knew that was the worst idea. How far would Sanji go was the question. He was a prince that could kick ass, yet twirl around women like a prince. “I think you should stay in one place so the symptoms don’t worsen Sanji-san.” Chopper pointed his cute hoof at the ero-cook, to make sure he was listening. However, Sanji could only comprehend part of what was said, due to the fact the only thing on his mind right now was just pounding into your dripping cunt, over and over; along with cooking dinner.

“I should get cooking though. You know how Luffy can get,” Sanji said as he lit a cigarette. The drag was long and hard, breathing was short and stagnant, his mind trying to clear the image of her in just an apron in the kitchen and- “I need to get cooking!” He jumped up, excited to see if the images in his mind were true.

“Oh, okay. Just letting you know though. Try to avoid Y/N, because at the peak it could make you go nearly nuts,” Chopper tried to explain, but Sanji was already out the door. “Ah, well he must have heard me.”

“Y/N-Swan~” Sanji screamed, bursting into his kitchen to see his dream gal in front of him in just an apron. Except, that was not what was waiting for him. All he saw were the mushrooms on the counter, side-by-side. There was a quick sigh, a puff from his cigarette; slowly unbuttoning his shirt as the heat from his body was becoming too much. “Erm, if I take off my dress shirt, and leave on my outer jacket, that should be alright.” As he slowly took off his coat, he set it down in one harsh slap. His ears perking up as if he just heard the noise of what was similar to what it would sound like if he slapped her plump ass. Alas, that was not the case. Growling as if he was a wolf, he shook his head to try and help clear his mind. Hastily unbuttoning his shirt, he chucked his shirt somewhere to just grab his jacket again. “At least I have something to wear.” As he was hyper focused on the mushrooms, he ran his fingers through his blond strands. “Ah shit, why did he have to study his mushrooms right next to mine?” Feeling his cock pulsating under his tight pants, nearly twisting his hips to make sure to ease some of the discomfort. He palmed his erection, hoping it would calm the small beast, but it only made him imagine her touching him more. “If only- No! Keep focus!” Slapping his face on both sides to wake him up. “I need to finish dinner!” Sighing and rolling up his sleeves, he started his work. Today was a tender steak with a blueberry wine redux on the side. Cracking his slender phalanges, cracking his neck to focus on his job, he was ready.

Or so he thought

Making dinner was harder than he thought. The blueberries were the size of her nipples, sweet like her juices, the steak tender like her ass, and juicy like her-

“Sanji?” Oh god no. Please no. Glancing at the door, he saw her. Of all days to be wearing something sexy, today was not that day. “Let me help you bring some of the dishes to the dining room.” Dammit, I can see her nipples through her pajama tank top. Her thighs look so thick with those shorts. I could bite them- “Sanji?” Without realizing it, picking up the dress shirt, casually turning around and taking off the tank, the bare back exposed, a map he has felt way too often when he held her in his arms; and slipping the dress shirt agonizingly slow, buttoning each and every button. Casually turning around to face him, twirling in his dress shirt. “This is much more comfortable this way. How does it look? Cute, yes?” It took everything Sanji’s power to not grab her, to bend her over on the counter, stuffing her lips with his fingers, and fucking their brains out. It crossed his mind well over a million times within the mere seconds she twirled.

“I-uh…yeah…uh, IfYouCouldGrabThePlatesAndHelpMeThatWouldBeGreatBye” Sanji said in the fastest, tongue-tied, rambling he had ever done as he was carrying majority of the plates on his hands and head. All she could do was stare at what just happened. He used to get flustered, but she thought they were well past that point. Granted, there were more platonic moments of hugs, kisses and cuddles within their relationship. There were hints of sex, but they were very rare, and when they did happen, the aroma of roses, fresh shampoo, slow moans blended with “I love you”s would mix the air. It was always so sweet, like him. Maybe, he was just falling behind on his duties and needed to get stuff done.

Dinner was no better for Sanji. Y/N sat across from him, and of all days to not sit next to him today, again, was not that day. Constantly missing the food into his mouth, which caused the bits of steak to fall back onto his plate. “Oi number 7, maybe eat properly instead of ogling at your girlfriend.” A slow urge comes up to beat his ass, but your tits were fighting that thought.

“Eh? Say that again you shitty mossheaded freak?” the table fell silent. Usually, everyone would be laughing and chuckling at this argument, but it was out of his character to get this mad. “Come now, have anything to say musclebrain? Or are you backing down because that's how you ran with your tail between your legs when fighting Mihawk, huh?” The atmosphere was suffocating, almost like no one could breathe. The smell of steak dissipated into a choking tenseness.

“S-sanji? What is up with you?” Speaking up from the table, Y/N got up, god her lips were moving but he could not comprehend what she was saying at all. Until he felt a soft touch on his thigh. “Speak to me.” There it was, her fingers on his thigh, squeezing softly to at least get an answer from him, as his hand came up to cover his mouth to stifle a low moan. “Look at me!” His head was snapped towards a face that he has kissed too many times, the pink kissable lips he could bite and fight for.

“Uh, Sanji, did you tell her?” Chopper piped up from his seat. All heads turned towards Sanji, every worried eye and eyes were bearing holes in this pervert. Even Zoro looked concerned for once, to the point he put his hand on his chin to cover his mouth that naturally turned into a concerned frown.

“Unless he wants to fight, which he would have demanded me to fight him…”

“Ah-AH GUYS. WE NEED TO LEAVE PRONTO! EVERYONE MEET ME IN THE INFIRMARY” Chopper screamed out. The crew looked at each other trying to comprehend what was going on, almost trying to question the situation when the doctor looked at Y/N and screamed “RUN Y/N!”

“What is going on-” Luffy said, trying to continue eating the steak that was on your plate, when Zoro just grabbed his collar and dragged him.

“Not the time, but we can talk about it later!” Zoro panicked, while everyone scrambled to get out of their seats and out the door. Dispersing throughout the ship, while Y/N nearly tripped over her feet while leaving towards the resting quarters. Her scent was fading, which only meant that she was running away from Sanji, from the awakening beast from within.

The corridor didn’t feel any shorter, the lanterns swaying slowly while her feet tried to carry her to the room full of hammocks. There was an echo of shoes reverbing off the metal halls, as if it was getting faster and faster. A dark shadow of fear filled her mind, a prey being chased by a predator. Panting, some growling, and the echo of “wait, please!” It was desperate, oh so desperate. It made her slow down, wanting to help the poor soul, but the look on Chopper’s face was pure fear. The door was within her reach, swinging that door open with all her might, and nearly falling when swinging in and closing the door when the door would not close. There was a force that was keeping it from closing. It was him.

“Sanji-kun…” She looked so scared, yet so cute. The trembling rippled through her shirt, her hair was shaking as she looked at you. “W-what do you want?” He forced his way in, then locked the door to ensure nothing would come in, or leave. “You are scaring me love. Talk to me.”

“I want-” he huffed out. It was his voice, his voice at last. She reached out just to touch his jaw, when he grabbed her wrist and held it up, walking at her as she walked backwards into a pillar. “I NEED you right now, I crave you,” Sanji’s dark eyes were sporadically scanning Y/N’s figure. The dress shirt, the perked up nipples, the legs that were so luscious.

“What do you-” Lips crashed, nearly teeth clanging against each other. A pool of heat started to grow in between her legs. Afterall, Sanji almost always wears a dress shirt on the ship. Even if it was a shortsleeve, it was always buttoned up so it didn’t show anything. This time, however, the outline of his pecs, abs and v-line emanate from the lanterns above. When was he ever like this? Aggressive? To take control of you? Never. Tongues were fighting, but she lost as he could explore her mouth, biting and tugging her lips like it was his last meal. Dragging his lips down her neck, planting the seeds for hickies to blossom later for everyone to see.

“Ah, fuck. How could you be like that princess?” He gasped out when he pulled away. Y/N’s heart raced, she could feel it in her head. This side of him was so new, yet so hot. Tugging the dress shirt lower to feel like it was covering your dripping cunt, but it only made Sanji notice it even more. “How could you defend that green haired fuck. I have to teach you a lesson about that.” This was the side you had never seen. His leather gloves snatched both of her wrists, and gathered them with his left hand. “Why?” “I didn’t defend him!”

“Yes.You.Did” he gasped out. Twirling around the figure in front of him, he gave a quick slap against her clothed ass. A quick moan escaping those lewd lips that he had just abused a few moments ago. “You talk, yet your dirty little mouth wants me”. Smacking her ass again, which caused her to arch her back, taking a few steps back to brush up against his hard-on. He was too far gone, even Sanji knew it. I can’t do this to her, but I can’t stop myself. I need this now. His mind was racing as he subtly choked her with his right hand, teasing his fingers at the corners of her swelling mouth. “Suck it Princess.” His words were low, hot, and it shook your whole body.

“I’d rather suck on something else” she whimpered. Trying to imply that she wanted him, his cock that needed the release so badly. That wasn’t what Sanji thought.

“You wanted marimo didn’t you?” questioning your words, urging a confirmation from you. “Only I can satisfy your needs right now princess. But your cute ass is mine tonight.” Since when did he become so assertive? This soft gentleman that usually is stuttering, asking her what she wanted and her taking the lead was no more. “Well?” Rubbing her ass against his clothed member, she was shaking, anticipating what was to come. “I guess if you aren’t being obedient then-” the quick sudden movement of her body nearly being thrown onto a bed nearby surprised her. It wasn’t long before her arms were pinned above her head again, legs dangling off the edge, his legs wedged in between hers. He could smell her sweet scent of rose petals, tangerines and salt. His open hand brought up the dress shirt hem to her mouth as he put it up to her lips.

“Baby, please. I need you right now”, God she was begging for me. Dammit, I need her.

“No, I need you to hold this,” there was a hesitation before she took the shirt between her, oh so sweet lips. Backing up, taking in the sight of a goddess, her torso on full display, the blooming purples on her neck showing now, it was breathtaking. Sanji yanked off the shorts his partner had on, tugging it when it got caught on her knees and ankles. His look touched her up and down, and she could feel herself already wanting him. Instead, ripping off the only barrier between the air and her wetness, he took a dive into her deep sea. Her body bucked at the sheer pleasure of his tongue darting at her bundle of nerves.

“San-” there was an immediate pause at what he was doing. She fucked up, and she knew that. Every little feeling, the warmth was replaced with the air hitting her cunt. Without even blinking, his face was right in front of Y/N’s. Despite the lanterns being so dim, the lights could illuminate his lust-filled eyes. The glow of his personality disappeared behind the cloak of his perverted ego. The warmth of his hand was on her plump, soft, delicate thighs. A simple squeeze responded with a subtle moan from the girl.

“Did you want to be obedient?” Arms moving to put the shirt back into her own mouth, he stopped her. “You opened your pretty mouth already, so let’s put it to use.” Swiftly, mouths were crashing, as there were fingers pistoning into her core. Covered moans, creaking of the bed, cutting the silence of the room. She wanted more, feeling her shaking under his touch, he could tell she was close. A quick break from the heated kiss left her with a quick gulp of air. Panting, the taste of her sex mixed into her saliva. Sanji backed up, and the rustling of a belt and pants being discarded was the last thing that was heard when he rubbed the tip of his pulsating cock at her entrance. A whimper was all it took for him to drag his cock slowly into her. There was still a little bit of Sanji’s restraint left in him. Clearly, he had a little patience before he was fully into her body.

“Fuck,” the soft moan floated up into the room. The hilt of his cock so deep he wanted to cum right then and there. Sanji’s grip dug into the hips of Y/N, knowing it may bruise a little, yet its what she wanted to see in the mirror the next morning. Without warning, he started to quickly pound into her. There were stars in her eyes, sparkles as if she was swimming in bliss. The slapping of skin so loud, everyone on the ship probably knows what is going on at this point with the growls and grunts Sanji’s lips spewed out.

“So tight for me. Is this how you always think of me princess?” Without a warning, her hips bucked and a roar of pleasure erupted from her ribcage. “What a thing to witness, but-” he trained off, as he snaked his arm under her body to flip her over and piledrive deeper. Hitting that one sweet spot that could not allow her to think. Both, immersed in their state of craze, of lust, of love. Slaps were so wet from the sweat and the wetness meeting his balls. “I’m going to-” Sanji finally said as he pushed as deep as he could, loading his seed. There was a moan, failing to cover that she too came. Gasped breaths, and time seemed to freeze right then and there. “I-”

“Sanji!” She finally asked, her voice still shaky from the overstimulation.

“Did, I just-” his voice nearly inaudible, trying to comprehend what just unfolded within the past hour. “I am so sorry I couldn’t-” Her body flipped over, slowly but surely she was on her back. Arms outstretched for a welcoming embrace. A smile tugging the corner of her red lips, as if she was beckoning him closer. Glancing at every marking that was on Y/N’s body was because of him. “I am-”

“Stop apologizing, it was fine Sanji.”

“You don’t have to lie.”

“But it was exhilarating my love,” grasping finally in his arms to bring him closer. Smiling weakly, he joined next to her. Wrapping his strong arms around her sweaty waist, tugging the sweat soaked blanket on top of the both of them. “Maybe I can get used to your perverted side more often.” Teasing his hair between her thin fingers. “You became a different lover boy.” There was a sigh of relief, followed by a soft peck on the nape of Y/N’s neck. “Give me a sign, and I’ll be there for you always love.”

“Of course, but the crew-”

“Screw the crew, I can talk to them later about this.”

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homunculus-argument · 9 months

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I found a collection of clipped images of vintage ads, and let me tell you these are hilarious with no context.

Dude on the left doesn't give a shit about what you think of him. "Whatever, I'm still going to drink my coffee with my breakfast ass-pastries." Dude on the right is offended. "Really? Right in front of my heroin?"

All your mental health troubles can be cured by having a talk with the drunk girl sitting on the floor of a dive bar bathroom. Like the modern oracle, she dispels wisdom.

Do not cut off your nose to spite your face! Let us do it for you! Experience the highest end quality of plastic surgery that the 1930s technology can offer! If the war didn't blow your nose off, we can make it look like it sure did!

Are you too refined, sophisticated and dapper? Would you rather have the rough and manly, beastly airs of the salt trade sailor you sucked off behind the town market three days ago while he called you his pretty little slut? Our doctors can help you.

This is also a good way to get not only your nose, but your entire face professionally fucked up.

Trust me bro this is a different strain. It won't happen again this time bro trust me I swear.

Dude if she gives you that look you better zip it back up before she figures out how to politely tell you how disappointed she is. She came here for the thrill of her life and that's not it.

Nevermind, she was too polite to break it to you.

Live footage of the last coherent thought escaping my brain when my meds wear off.

Have you lived your entire life woefully lacking of dandruff? Fear not, for relief is here! Finally, you can have the same alluring scalp snow as the heinous bitch your husband left you for.

FALSE! I literally never shut the fuck up.

The money-eating giraffe will fuck you. That is a promise.

Successfully fucked by the giraffe, evidently.

Another satisfied customer. He won't even mind that the beast ate all his money.

This poor guy just missed the giraffe. By a thread. He was out of town already when this poor man got the news. His entire year is ruined.

Do you crave the chaotic rush of a manic outburst, but do not have the inherent mechanisms of naturally mania-inducing mental illness? Try AMPHETAMINE! You will be full of ideas, and know for sure what you're going to be doing for the next three months! Disclaimer: The ideas you will have on amphetamine are not guaranteed to be good ideas. And you're probably spending the next three months in jail.

You know you're sick you dirty little bowlcut slut.

"Fuck. This. Shit."

This one came in-built with a weirder fucking caption than I could come up with. Nothing can top this. Not even the giraffe.

#long post

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lovings4turn · 2 months

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★ sick, but never of you . . . (luke hughes)

— when you're feeling incredibly under the weather, your boyfriend is there to look after you the best he can (1.3k)

+ warnings for mentions of illness and feeling sick. yes this is incredibly self-indulgent but i'm currently ill so you have to let me off okay !!!! first time writing for luke so pls don't be too too harsh !! banner from benkeibear <3

luke knew it was bad the moment he woke to the sight of your shadowed outline sitting up in bed, your body hunched over as muffled sniffling broke the silence in the room.

you hadn't been feeling the greatest all day, plagued with an annoying cough and pounding headache, but you had insisted before you headed to bed that you were starting to feel a little better, even assuring him that a good night's sleep would cure everything.

unfortunately, it seemed that sheer wishful thinking alone wasn’t enough.

something happened overnight, and you’d gone from bad to worse within a matter of hours. what had started out as a level of illness that was more of an annoyance than anything had spiralled to an obnoxious level of discomfort.

the blocked nose, the sharp scratch in your throat, the awful cough, and the pulsing headache would all be bad enough on their own, but experiencing them all in one sitting seemed like a level of torture that you definitely didn’t deserve. yet, here you were. and there was nothing you could really do about it.

it took every last ounce of strength in you not to cry.

you were just so frustrated. nothing felt right, and sleep was definitely out of the question; you were left with no other option than to sit and feel sorry for yourself, and hell, who could blame you?

"babe?" luke asked, voice thick with a blend of sleep and concern that already worked to soothe you a little. it was like your own personal medicine, washing over your body and allowing your muscles to relax a fraction.

"sorry," you all but croaked, and luke winced at the sound. speaking had to be impossibly painful for you right now, there was no doubt about it. "y’can go back to sleep, 'm fine."

your attempt at lying was already pitiful, but it was truly ruined when, not even five seconds later, you promptly burst into tears. luke’s extension of care had broken the emotional dam you’d tried to build up, and the wave of upset quickly came crashing over you.

luke swore that he could feel each individual crack splintering across his heart at the sight of you. how he was simply supposed to 'go back to sleep' right now, even if he wanted to, was a total mystery to him.

"hey, hey, c'mere," he mumbled, sounding more like he was addressing a wounded animal than his girlfriend.

without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you against him, his hand tracing circles on the small of your back as you sobbed into him. small ‘i know, i know’s passed his lips, and he hoped to any god that they sounded reassuring and not patronising.

a particularly rough coughing fit interrupted your crying, and you tore yourself away from him to cover your mouth. luke mourned the loss of your body against his, the warmth replaced by the telltale cold of losing your embrace.

"i feel like fucking shit."

your voice cracked at every word, even cutting out completely on some syllables, and the expression on your face confirmed that speaking was hell for you right now.

never had luke seen you so utterly broken, and it was killing him. he knew that if you were any more coherent, you would’ve kicked him out of your room instantly, not wanting to risk getting him sick.

he knew that, because it had happened many times before.

it was like clockwork, a dance you two had mastered over the years together. you’d get a slight cold, luke would offer to take care of you, and you’d shut him down immediately, not wanting your sniffles to be the reason the devils lost one of their defensemen for a game or two.

but this was far worse than a common cold, and no amount of convincing would be able to pull luke from your side.

luke sat for a moment, formulating a plan in his mind with a level of precision only otherwise reserved for his time on the ice. he gnawed at his bottom lip gently as he thought, a hand reaching out to brush the hot skin of your thigh to let you know he was still there.

after a minute, he spoke.

“alright, i’m gonna go grab some stuff for you and i’ll be right back okay?” luke promised, rising to his feet.

a stern, yet caring, look shot down your feeble attempt at arguing with him. nothing you could say or do right now would prevent him from looking after you.

“you just get y’self comfy, babe. i’ll be back before you know it.”

a kiss to your forehead sealed his goodbye, and the soft thump of his feet against the wood flooring became quieter as he made his way into the kitchen. you sniffled once more, wiping away the stray tears from your cheeks with the palms of your hands and propped yourself up against one of the pillows, sighing deeply.

remnants of luke’s warmth seemed to bleed along the sheets, tingling underneath your skin to remind you that he was here, looking after you, and he was happy to do it. a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you held back from burying yourself into luke’s side of the bed despite your heart silently begging you to.

as promised, luke returned not too long after, balancing a few objects in his hands. whilst one hand clasped a steaming mug of tea, the other contained some painkillers and medicine you had in your cabinet, along with a bottle of cold water. luke had apparently grabbed anything in sight that he thought would help you out, and cupid’s arrow snagged your heartstrings once more.

within seconds your bedside table was decorated with his haul, and the mug of tea carefully handed to you with a warning that it would be hot. luke busied himself with figuring out how much of each medication you could take, making a mental note as to when you could have the next dose with furrowed brows.

his fingers stretched out to gently tap your palm twice, a silent request for you to hold out your unoccupied hand so he could drop the pills into them for you. the fact you had woken him up at god knows what time of night and his movements were laced more with love than exhaustion was truly a testament to how much he adored you, and it made you feel giddy despite your awful state.

a sympathetic sound left his mouth as he reached out a hand to cup your jaw, brushing his thumb along your cheekbone as though you were fine china, something delicate for him to cherish and admire.

“drink some tea and then try and get some more sleep, baby,” he said in a hushed tone, pressing a gentle kiss to your clammy forehead. “know it sounds impossible, but the meds should make it a bit easier for you. ‘m not going anywhere either, so wake me up if you need me.”

you nodded, lifting the mug to your lips and taking a small sip of the hot liquid. the fact that luke had brewed the drink in your favourite mug didn’t go unnoticed, and you gave him a fond smile over the rim of the mug as the beverage eased the strain of your throat.

as luke clambered back into bed next to you, pulling you into his side carefully so as not to spill your tea everywhere, your frustration began to fade, curling like the tendrils of steam coming from your mug and floating towards the ceiling.

though your sickness wasn’t miraculously cured, the soft kisses luke repeatedly pressed to the top of your head and temple provoked small bursts of happiness to erupt in your mind, like fireflies carrying a golden glow that paled in comparison to that of the boy next to you.

#.° ༘🗝️⋆₊ becca’s drabbles #luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes drabble #nj devils x reader #nj devils x you #nhl x reader

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bealovesmarauders · 1 year

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invisible string / james potter

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

james potter x fem reader

word count: 4k

in which james potter has a quidditch injury, and, in healing, meets someone special <3

and isn’t it just so pretty to think, that all along there was some invisible string?

a/n: i've left reader's illness ambiguous because many people go through many different things, however this is heavily based off of personal experience. TW for hospitals, illness, and swearing (kinda??). this is my very first fic so i hope you all enjoy! you are not alone. you are beautiful. you are valid, & my inbox is always open if anyone wants to talk <33 likes & reposts are very appreciated especially as i'm trying to grow my account!!

⋆ ࣪. ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖

the hospital wing is quiet, and james potter is lonely.

he has never been this isolated before. he's sunshine, really- constantly soaking up love, light, and laughter. james thrives off of other people, and the fun that comes with them. merlin knows he's never turned down a prank- never missed a gryffindor house party- never passed up the opportunity to sneak into hogsmeade. but then again, james has never had a quidditch injury this bad either.

it was a normal practice, as it goes. he'd tweaked his shoulder about a week prior during a particularly rough collision with a hufflepuff player during a game, but he'd brushed it off- it was nothing. remus, naturally, had worried- "you'll make it worse, prongs,"- but the pain went away almost instantaneously due to a handy numbing spell flitwick had taught in charms a few months before. honestly, james had forgotten about it (among the numerous assignments he'd forgotten to do for both potions and transfiguration). but this practice had gotten...rowdy, to say the least, and he'd fallen off his broom, landing on his left arm and shoulder while attempting to show off a trick with the golden snitch.

he'd never felt any pain like it, really. madam pomfrey had performed a basic charm to mend his fractured collarbone, but there had been severe nerve and muscle damage to his shoulder, arm, and back. “we'll have to wait it out," the matron had told him, “but you musn't move it."

james knows he was impatient, but waiting is difficult when you're always the first at everything. the first young seeker in gryffindor history to catch the snitch and win the house cup in sixty years, the first student to ever get detention from professor dumbledore, always the first to down a shot at a common room party. in hindsight, maybe he shouldn't have snuck out to attempt a workout a few days into his stay at the hospital wing. “but what do you expect me to do?" he'd argued with professor mcgonagall when she found him cradling his injured arm close to his body in the common room rather than the hospital wing. “you let remus read and do his studies when he's ill! why not me? quidditch is my destiny!"

so now james is going on his fifth night in the wing, and madam pomfrey estimates he'll be staying for another week due to the damage caused from his impromptu exercise session. the matron is kind enough, and her touch is gentle on his shoulder, but no amount of gobstones with sirius and remus when they're out of class can cure james's boredom.

the wing is often empty. there's always an occasional illness, or spell gone wrong, but the healer witch always whips up a healing potion or casts a helpful charm in no time. it's her job, james knows, and so is confiscating the snitch in his pocket. but sometimes he wishes he would have a companion who lasts more than a few hours. maybe it's awful of him to think- that there would be someone in bad enough condition so that he could make a friend. and so james sulks.

but today, that changes. and, as james potter is soon to realize, fate- whether it be quidditch or love- often finds its way.

james hears many things when he wakes up in the middle of the night. voices- not unusual, but louder and more urgent than the typical hum of the hospital wing, especially at this time. forcing his eyes open and fumbling for his glasses, he draws the pale green curtains around his bed open to investigate the hubbub. to his surprise, his assumption in the multitude of voices is correct. through the darkness, james can just make out madam pomfrey in her crimson dress across the room, along with professors mcgonagall and dumbledore crouched around a rickety metal bed matching his own. madam pomfrey appears to be quickly mixing up a lavender potion, and mcgonagall and dumbledore step aside to speak in hushed whispers just loud enough for james to hear snippets.

“...very sick..”

“...st. mungo's..”

“..excused from classes..”

james's brow furrows, straining his eyes and ears for more. a sliver of moonlight passes through the latticed window above him, and he can barely see a figure on the bed being tended to by madam pomfrey. even the thought of st. mungo's seems extreme. but then madam pomfrey's voice, usually calm (or peeved), cuts through the night air shrilly.

“albus! minerva! i need your assistance-”

james sits up straight to catch a glimpse of what's happening, wincing from the hot flash of pain radiating from his arm and shoulder. but as the professors rush past him, dumbledore pauses before flicking his wand, consequently drawing the pale green curtains around james's bed closed.

“mr. potter,” he says with a tone james can't quite decipher, “there is something to be said about prying eyes on a night such as this one.”

with these cryptic final words, james runs a hand through his dark curls and falls back on his pillows, defeated and slightly ashamed of his own curiosity.

but, as we all know, the sun will rise again in the morning.

when james wakes, madam pomfrey is bustling around, and everything seems normal. normal, until he catches a glimpse of the figure in the bed. it's a familiar face, james realizes- a girl in his year, friends with lily evans and partnered with remus in potions class. he's seen her studying in the library on more occasions than one, studying by herself or with remus. warm sunlight pools on her bed, but her face is paler than nearly headless nick.

it takes james a moment to rub the sleep out of his eyes and regain memory of the night before. “poppy," he says, morning voice rough. “come to visit me again? couldn't keep away?"

madam pomfrey makes her way over to james to hand him his daily painkillers, a sludgy potion the texture of chalk. “mr. potter," she says severely, “how many times have i kindly requested that you address me by my preferred title?"

james is about to make a wisecrack at this, but chokes a bit on the potion instead. it's been several days, but he's not sure if he'll ever be used to the medication. “sorry," he says, grimacing. and then when curiosity overtakes him- “what happened last night- y'know, with that girl?"

madam pomfrey shakes her head, making a tsk sound. “that's not for me to share," she says. “but best not wake her."

james spends the rest of his morning chewing on buttered toast- one of the foods madam pomfrey says will help him heal quicker- and pretending to read a book on broomstick care that remus bought for him last christmas. it motivates him to get back on the field. he would do anything to polish his broom right now- he finds it relaxing, having a routine. but the words swim on the page and staring mindlessly at it does him no good, so he sips on pumpkin juice and finds himself watching the girl in the bed across the room.

she looks peaceful when she's sleeping. fragile, even, as if she might shatter into a million pieces if he were to touch her. hair fanned out on the soft pillow, she looks weak, bundled up in extra blankets. a muggle contraption that remus has mentioned before feeds a concoction of some sort through a long, clear tube into the girl's arm, and several more finicky-looking wires seem to be attached to her. that must feel awful, james thinks. he hopes she's okay. she's quite pretty, after all- it would be a shame if she was stuck in here for a while. hopefully she's out before he is.

when the girl finally awakes, looking rather disoriented, madam pomfrey rushes right back in, and james finds himself peering at a pale green curtain again. what is it with this matron and her privacy curtains? when james was getting fixed up, he was not allowed the luxury of them- instead he was forced to watch the bubbling pustules of a slytherin student beside him resulting from sudden onset dragonpox. sirius had gotten a right kick out of that one.

the rest of the marauders come to visit around lunch, and by then the curtains have opened again, revealing the girl once more. for once, james has trouble focusing on the words coming from sirius's mouth.

“...and then the spell just ricocheted off the wall and hit flitwick smack dab on the nose. he just about blew a fuse! prongs? prongs, are you listening?"

james startles when sirius's voice becomes louder. “sorry?"

remus eyes him, a concerned look on his face. "bloody merlin, you're out of it today," sirius replies, smirking. he's about to continue on with his story when james speaks.

“who's that girl?"

the marauders turn to glance. the girl is sleeping again, or has at least closed her eyes, the matron at her bedside. remus smiles knowingly.

“that's y/n l/n. she's very kind, prongs, you should make friends with her."

“isn't she friends with lily? have you moved on from your precious flower?" sirius asks teasingly. james smacks him gently on the head. “i'm just...curious. has she been in here before?"

remus gives a brief nod. “it's how we met. full moon. ya know."

james, leaves it at that- something remus recognizes as out of character, yet it doesn't go unappreciated. james doesn't want to pry, or invade y/n's privacy. maybe he'll talk to her when she wakes up. instead, james musters a smile, tries to force the trademark glint in his eye, and deals a rousing round of exploding snap with his best friends.

"psst!"

y/n l/n wakes up to an obnoxious sound from across the room. everything hurts, she's exhausted, and consequently, she's definitely not in the mood for mischief. regardless, she looks up. and what a sight to behold but none other than james potter.

james potter. of course it's james potter. remus's beautiful best friend, lover of mischief, master of quidditch. except evidently he still has much to learn on the quidditch front- his muscled arm is heavily bandaged, lying close to his chest in a sling. she forces herself to look up- his biceps look a little too nice peeking out of the hospital gown- and meets his deep brown eyes. “hello."

“hey," he parrots back.

there's an awkward silence in which they look each other up and down. she prays she's not drooling.

“what'd you wake me up for?" she finally asks. something in his tone has tied her tongue momentarily, and her voice is soft.

james grins. “it's lonely in here. and you don't seem to need any beauty sleep, you're pretty already."

so this is how it is. y/n blushes and smiles a little. for a moment, she forgets they're in the infirmary. “i'm y/n."

“i know," james replies. “i'm james. pleasure t' meet you."

y/n finds her voice again. “i know," she mimics. “you're friends with remus."

james attempts running a hand through his messy curls using his injured arm- presumably a flirtatious move, but it results in an exaggerated gasp of pain and eliciting a small laugh from y/n. she winces as she props herself up a bit, accidentally tugging on the muggle tubes attached to her body. to her surprise, james's demeanor changes completely, and all of a sudden he's the worried-looking one, asking hesitantly if she's okay, his voice laced with concern.

she smiles, albeit a weak one. “yeah. i'm used to it."

looking around, y/n realizes madam pomfrey is nowhere to be seen. noticing this, james clears his voice. “she's helping out with all the seventh-years. they're learning how to apparate, and there's a hell of a lot of splinching. she'll be back soon."

y/n nods, looking as if she's about to ask something. butterflies in james's stomach arise- a rare occurrence since his fifth rejection from lily evans- and the curly haired gryffindor feels as if he can tell there are words on the tip of her tongue, but perhaps she's too shy to say. “do you need anything?"

she exhales, and james realizes she's shivering despite the excess of blankets wrapped around her. “can you- can you get me a blanket? i would get one myself, but i don't think i can walk right now."

he nods so quickly she thinks he'll break his neck. “of course," he replies, and she attempts to shoot him a small smile despite the pain. james's heart flutters, and he gets up shakily from the bed. he's been bedridden for a while, so he's not used to walking, but it's clear already he's in a better position then her. making his way over to madam pomfrey's cupboard of linens and hospital gowns, james attempts to inject some swagger into his strut, prompting another small giggle. when he's finally by her bed, handing her the thick wool blanket, james's shoulder's aching more than it should, but he swallows and puts on another teasing tone. just for her.

“milady," he bows, wrapping the quilt around her shoulders as she props herself up into a sitting position. she shivers, but some color returns to her cheeks once she's started to warm up. “why thank you, kind sir. my knight in shining armor."

james stands there awkwardly holding his sling for a moment, and y/n is beginning to wonder if she shouldn't have asked him for help, but just as casually as she'd hoped, he lowers himself into the hospital bed beside her own, sitting like a little boy, criss-cross applesauce leaning back against the pillows.

a smile slowly spreads across y/n's face, and it warms james's heart. “i guess you'll be staying here for a while."

“i guess i will," james agrees, and neither of them can deny the tension in the air.

they spend the rest of the afternoon together talking and getting to know each other. madam pomfrey doesn't get back for a while- potentially prompted by a knowing remus waiting outside the hospital wing with a tale spun of sirius suffering from an unprompted vicious hiccup attack requiring immediate medical attention. (the marauders are positive that james wouldn't mind them stealing a few of his hiccough sweets from his zonko's stash if it meant more time alone with y/n.) james gets to know her favorite things- books, music, et cetera- and entertains her with stories about some of his most infamous pranks. surprisingly enough, when the matron returns, she only gives james a mild scolding for switching beds (“i'm sure you're up to no good, mr. potter,"), pours y/n another dose of medication, and- miraculously!- leaves them be.

the two grow close quickly over the next while. their conversations range from quidditch cup predictions to more vulnerable subjects, and they bond over their distaste for missing class. james knows not to push, but the elephant in the room looms over them: james growing healthier by the day, y/n deteriorating.

the conversation becomes difficult to avoid. soon, james's sling is taken off, and his new friend gasps excitedly at the news when she wakes up, stretching her arm out between their two beds to squeeze his hand affectionately. “you'll be out of here in no time," she grins, but the realization comes with a sense of deflatement. honestly, james doesn't know how he feels about it. he wants to get back to his friends, to life, to house parties, to quidditch. hell, even back to normal classes, with homework. but he doesn't think he can bear leaving her behind.

but overall, the encouragement and company of james's new friend makes resting easier, and in no time he settles into a new routine. his morning consists of waking up, taking his potion, eating, and talking with y/n, while his afternoons typically include having lunch, visiting the marauders, talking more with y/n, and eating dinner. due to the abundance of rest james is getting, he's healing faster, which pleases madam pomfrey very much- and it comes as a shock when she discharges him from the infirmary.

“are you positive?" james asks, slightly flabbergasted.

the matron gives him a dry smile.

“yes mr. potter, i am confident that you are successfully mended and i am rid of you at last."

james, elated, lets out a delighted whoop. he has to restrain himself from sweeping madam pomfrey up into a hug and spinning her around, he's so happy. but then the realization hits him- y/n. she's sleeping right now- she's been weaker than usual lately, never feeling well enough to talk for more than ten minutes. the muggle wires feeding into her body have multiplied, and the infirmary is significantly quieter, bar madam pomfrey's footsteps to check on her every once in a while. he doesn't want to leave her. that is the plain, simple truth.

james soaks in these thoughts for the rest of the afternoon, preparing to tell her when she wakes up. but she stays fast asleep. when remus and sirius come to visit and he breaks the news that he's out, he's mended, james greeted with open arms and claps on the back. but james catches the worried glance remus sends to his potions partner, dozing away in the next bed over. she looks as if she's barely breathing. it’s an odd mix of emotions. hoping to say goodbye, james eats one last meal in the hospital wing, and double checks with the matron that he’s totally healed. but all signs are clear, so he’s officially dismissed.

james stays uncharacteristically silent as he walks up to the gryffindor common room with all of his things- his sleakeasy hair potion, his robes, his stolen snitch given back by pomfrey. he's missing something- a goodbye. but he'll visit her later. he'll say farewell. because he has to. but until then, james thinks, he can distract himself.

of course, sirius and marlene have organized a welcome-back party. even james, forever a maximalist, thinks it's a bit over the top. he loves sirius, they’re brothers, but james feels wrong being here. the only comfort he seeks is not in the fireworks terrorizing the portraits, or the butterbeer pong, or even in lily's open arms, who seems to have missed him quite a bit. it's the hospital wing he craves. calm, quiet, empty, yet filled with laughter. or rather, y/n.

dwelling on his thoughts, james takes a long sip of firewhiskey, recoiling from the scorching feeling in his throat- it's been a while. he's here, but he's not present, and remus, who's been nursing spiked pumpkin juice all night from the corner, nudges james and whispers into his ear: “go get her, prongs."

james weighs his options. he knows sirius, currently snogging someone in the corner, would say the same- the marauders are less oblivious to james's connection with y/n then he'd hoped- and when he spots a hufflepuff jock slip through the portrait with a gaggle of girls behind him, he’s fairly certain his welcome party is over. fabian prewett, outraged at the infiltration and also mildly drunk on butterbeer, slugs the intruder right in the jaw, and when the hufflepuffs have retreated and fabian's hoisted up onto their shoulders, the new hero of the night upon his pedestal, james knows it's time to leave. this is his chance.

halfway to the hospital wing, he realizes that he doesn’t actually know what the hell he’s doing. showing up at midnight to a beautiful girl’s bedside empty handed? invisibility cloak draped around his shoulders, james picks up his pace as he jogs through hogwarts all the way to the courtyard. hands assured now, he plucks some wildflowers from the grass- it’s too dark to tell what they are- and knows that he is following his heart. bouquet in hand, james is running now, sprinting up the moving staircases as quietly as possible to reach the hallowed hall that’s home to the hospital wing. half of james’s heart wants to make a scene- to swing open the doors to the infirmary with a bang- but he knows all too well how obnoxious sleep disruptions can get. so he takes a deep breath, and enters the hospital wing.

there’s a faint light that greets james as he comes in. it’s y/n- glowing wand at her side, providing enough light to read a familiar book: his broomstick care manual. her face absolutely lights up when she sees james.

“hello there mr. potter,” y/n whispers, quiet even though there’s no one else in the infirmary. “i think you forgot something on your way out.”

she holds up his book, a twinkle in her eye- one james hasn’t seen before. he rushes over to her bed, eager to gift her the bouquet. “well, you can keep it, love, along with the flowers.”

y/n buries her face in the wildflowers, immersing herself in the scent. moonlight pools through the latticed window, illuminating her face. she looks happy. truly happy. “thank you, james.”

there’s a moment, one where they are both gazing at each other, completely enamored. james is in pajamas, of all things- a heather gray shirt and plaid bottoms. it’s a contrast to the hospital gown she’s used to seeing him in. and she can’t help herself anymore, taking his hand and holding it. such a simple gesture, but one that holds such significance and weight.

that’s when james knows. all that’s left unsaid has been conveyed in the touch of a hand, and the wistful look in her eyes confirms it. he gently brushes away a stray wisp of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear, and his thumb comes to rest on her cheek, stroking it softly. and she knows, too.

“james."

a pause.

“i’m sick. i’ve been sick since first year. i’m getting better, madam pomfrey says. but it’s a long recovery. i don’t want you to feel burdened by me. you’re not even supposed to be here. you should be at the welcome back party. lily was telling me about the planning of it. i thought you’d be pleased, you’d be having fun. back to normal, you know. but you’re here. why are you here, james?”

“i’d rather be here, love,” he tells her, truthfully. he takes a flower from the bouquet he made for her and places it in her hair. “you know i would. you’re not a burden. you’re so beautiful, sweetheart. and kind, and sweet, and funny. and anything at the party, we can do here. don’t believe me? want to dance?”

james potter offers his hand to her. she takes it, of course. and then all of a sudden she’s smiling, tears disappearing, as he carefully helps her get up and sweeps her into his arms, humming a soft melody and swaying her back and forth slowly in a slow, sweet dance- careful to not pull on any of her tubes and wires. she nestles the top of her head into the crook of his neck, and he kisses her forehead gently.

“it’s me and you against this illness, love,” he says through hums. she smiles up at him.

“you, me, and the invisible string tying us together.”

1K notes · View notes

alwaysmicado · 5 months

Text

Trouble

5.3k | 18+ MDNI | fwb!Joel Miller x f!reader | pt. 5

Warnings: no outbreak AU, implied age gap, D/s dynamic, rough oral (m receiving), spitting, cum eating, leg humping, degradation/praise, humiliation kink, pet names, aftercare, feelings Summary: After you’ve distracted Joel from work with your explicit texts all day, he decides to teach you a lesson. A/N: Consensual degradation & humiliation – my beloved. This one's for you if you're into unadulterated filth with feelings sprinkled on top hehe. Let me know what you think, I love hearing your thots! 🤍

pt. 1 ・ pt. 2 ・ pt. 3 ・ pt. 4 ・ series masterlist

“You sure you got nothing else to say to me?”

“I’m—sorry?”

“No,” he tilts his head and you see the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you will be when I’m done with you.”

---

“Sneaking out for a hot date?”

Busted.

You sigh and turn around to face Kristen’s triumphant grin. Beautiful Kristen. The only person at your job with a bearable personality.

If you only had Janice from accounting and her incessant yapping about her feral kids, or John from HR and his never-ending tirades against “modern women”, you probably would have burnt down the building already.

Kristen’s been your lifeline over the past two years at this job. She’s upbeat, fun, a gifted painter and the closest thing to a female friend you have.

Her only flaw: she’s so nosy it’s not even funny.

After your get-well-fuck with Joel three days ago where he left multiple marks on your neck, you not only plastered a bunch of foundation over the purple reminders of his fever-fueled nipping, you also wore a silk scarf which, in hindsight, was a dumb idea.

The first thing you were welcomed with when you came in that morning was an enthusiastic “You go, girl!” followed by giggling after Kristen saw your unimpressed face.

You shoot her a half-hearted smile and raise an eyebrow. “Who says it’s a date?”

Kristen’s grin widens. “Oh, come on! You think I don’t notice the way you giggle at your phone like a lovesick idiot?”

“Oh, shut up,” you protest in mock offense. What the hell is she talking about? You don’t do that. “I got a doctor’s appointment. Nothing hot about that,” you say nonchalantly.

Kristen leans in, lowering her voice dramatically. “A doctor, huh? Do you have an ache only he can cure with his special tool?”

“You’re a pervert, you know that?”

“Yeah, duh. That’s why you love me,” she chuckles, causing the corners of your own lips to twitch.

“Well,” she smirks, “I hope the doctor will take the best care of you.”

You roll your eyes at her teasing, grab your bag and blow her a kiss before heading out. You leave the office with a grin, reveling in the sunshine that greets you when you step out.

The warmth of the day feels refreshing against your skin as you stroll to the parking lot. Your dress, despite being a result of prolonged laundry procrastination, is surprisingly comfortable, allowing you to appreciate the light breeze that rustles its fabric.

The sun casts a golden hue on the cityscape and you can't help but smile at the small pleasures of life – the sun on your face, a staff meeting getting canceled earlier, finding twenty bucks in an old pair of jeans this morning.

Life is okay at the moment.

Despite work kicking your ass, your mother trying to guilt-trip you into coming “home” and the last hookup you had throwing you out in the middle of the goddamn night because his wife came home from her business trip early.

You’re feeling good.

One might even say you’re happy.

If only there wasn’t this nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You take a deep breath and straighten your shoulders when you see your Uber pull up. Get yourself together.

The car winds through the city streets, and as you give Joel's address to the driver, you can't help but feel a flutter of anticipation. The engine hums softly as you navigate the familiar turns, presenting the perfect background to lose yourself in a daydream.

As you settle into the comfort of your bed, the world outside fades away. In the gentle embrace of your imagination, you feel a figure appear behind you. Their warmth is a soothing balm, and as they pull you close, a profound sense of security envelops you. The weight of the world, of your being lifts, replaced by the tender reassurance of this ethereal embrace.

In this imagined sanctuary, sleep finds you easily, cradled in the arms of solace. The whispered promise of warmth and safety lingers, allowing dreams to unfold like petals, undisturbed and serene in the soft glow of moonlight.

The notification sound of your phone pulls you back to reality. Glancing at the screen, you see Joel's name. You open the message and involuntarily press your thighs together, your pulse quickening instantly.

Door’s open. Get naked, then come upstairs.You’re in real trouble, angel.

---

The familiar scent of Joel’s home greets you when you step inside. It smells more like home than your apartment or any other place you’ve lived in since you were a child. Safe, warm, comforting – like its owner. And it’s a surprisingly well-decorated and welcoming home for a bachelor.

So much so that you asked him flat out if he had a wife on your first night together.

You take your shoes off and put your bag on the couch in the living room before heading to the downstairs bathroom to wash your hands and quickly check if you look presentable. Your eyes are a bit swollen from lack of restful sleep, but other than that, you’re good to go.

As you take your dress, bra and panties off, you somewhat fondly remember the last time Joel ordered you to his home because you were sending him filthy texts and photos while you both were at work.

You spent thirty minutes sitting still on his lap while he worked on his computer, his throbbing cock buried deep inside you. Every time he would shift in his chair a little, you would whimper into the crook of his neck and he would whisper into your ear how well you were doing for him and draw soothing circles on your back with his palm.

You hated and loved every torturous second of it.

The office door is open when you come upstairs. Your eyes widen when you see Joel sitting at his desk. It’s incredible how handsome he looks. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, blue gym shorts and his glasses as he’s staring at the computer and typing something with his index fingers.

Your heart starts beating faster as you take him in, the domesticity of this scene giving you an unexpectedly warm feeling deep within you.

“You just gonna stand there and stare at me?” Joel asks with a swivel of his chair, his body now facing yours. He saw you out of the corner of his eye before but now that he’s getting a good look at you, his jaw almost hits the floor.

He will never get used to seeing you naked.

“God, you’re so much more beautiful in real life,” he murmurs, his pupils blown wide and the admiration in his voice unmistakable.

You give him a satisfied smile as you lean against the doorframe. “I sure hope so,” you tease.

“Do you know why you’re here, darlin’?” Joel asks with a tilt of his head, his brow slightly furrowed.

“I’m assuming it has something to do with the silly little texts and pics I sent you to brighten up your day,” you say, feigning innocence. “Did you like them?”

“You really think now’s the time to be a brat, huh?” He chuckles and shakes his head. “Alright, then.” His eyes sparkle dangerously as he sits back in his chair and spreads his legs wider.

“You sure you got nothing else to say to me?”

“I’m—sorry?”

“No,” he tilts his head and you see the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “But you will be when I’m done with you.”

You bite your lip as your eyes focus on the visible bulge in Joel’s shorts, and try to suppress the huge grin that’s threatening to spread across your face. This is exactly what you wanted and you both know it.

“Hands and knees, baby,” Joel orders calmly and puts his hands on his thighs. “C’mere.”

You lower yourself on all fours without hesitation and crawl towards him slowly, making sure to sway your hips and never break eye contact. Joel’s the only person you’d put yourself in such a submissive position for and you revel in the exhilarating feeling it gives you.

Joel keeps his eyes trained on you, subtly rubbing his thighs as you come closer to where he’s needed you all day. His eyes are dark and full of need as he licks his lips and follows the mesmerizing movement of your body. He likes how you, despite your brattiness, know perfectly well where your place is.

“Look at what you did,” he says, once you’re kneeling on all fours between his spread legs. He palms his throbbing cock over the fabric and your eyes widen a little, your pussy clenching around nothing.

“That's right, baby, you did this. And now you need to take responsibility for your actions.” He gently caresses your cheek, tracing your lips with his thumb.

When he presses on your lower lip, you instinctively open your mouth enough for his finger to slip inside. He presses on your tongue, admiring the feeling and your willingness to submit.

“Look at you,” he chuckles, gently rubbing his cock. “Such a little slut, always wants something in her mouth.”

He moves his thumb further along your tongue, causing you to furrow your brow and gag a little. “You couldn't help yourself, huh, just had to put on a show all day like the needy whore you are.”

He takes his thumb out of your mouth and pulls his shorts all the way down, letting them fall on the floor next to his chair. His heavy cock flops against his lower belly, causing you to swallow and part your lips instinctively. Joel smirks at your reaction, enjoying the raw need sparkling in your eyes as he strokes himself slowly.

You start squirming, pressing your thighs together to alleviate at least some of the uncomfortable ache between your legs, and let out an almost inaudible whine as Joel continuously strokes up and down his length while looking at you curiously.

He leans in and tilts your chin up, his dark eyes boring into you.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” He asks softly, feigning concern. He looks from you to his cock and back, raising an eyebrow. “All of this just because you’re a pathetic little cockslut with nothing else in her dumb little head than my cock. Isn’t that right, angel?”

You nod slowly, your lips slightly parted, hypnotized by Joel’s big eyes and filthy words.

“Use your words, slut,” he growls, gripping the back of your neck to tilt your head up even more.

“I just—wanted you so bad, I–”

“Aww, of course you did,” he teases you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Tell me your safeword, angel.”

He looks into your eyes intently as you say it out loud, then puts a soft kiss on your lips. You whimper when he withdraws, the feeling of his warm lips lingering.

“Open up,” he orders with a tap of his fingers to your bottom lip. “Stick your tongue out for me.”

You obey and do as he says, looking into his eyes expectantly. You watch in awe and pure need as the thick glob of saliva makes its way down from Joel’s mouth and lands on the back of your tongue. A shiver runs down your spine as you feel it run down your throat.

“Swallow.” He gently puts a strand of hair behind your ear as you show him your empty mouth. “Good girl.”

You moan softly at his praise and furrow your brow when your eyes find his cock again.

“You really want it, huh,” Joel purrs, trailing your neck and chest gently with his hands. When he brushes your nipples, you wince a little, eliciting a low chuckle from him. “Spread your legs, baby. Let me see your little pussy.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, his cock twitching impatiently when you sit back on your heels and present your glistening folds.

“Fuck me,” he murmurs, tracing your belly all the way down to your mound and stopping right before touching your clit. “Must’ve been uncomfortable to sit in that all day, hm?”

He gently pulls your lips apart with his thumbs and index fingers, inspecting you closely. “Your little clit is so swollen, baby, does it hurt?”

“Mhm,” you whine, his touch so close to your neglected bundle of nerves torturing you beyond belief. “It–it hurts so bad, Sir.”

“Hmm,” he searches your eyes, “and that’s why you thought it was a good idea to send me all those naughty messages?” He spreads your lips apart further, eliciting a long moan from you. “You thought I’d fuck you if you did?”

“Y–yes,” you stammer, your legs trembling, “I’m sor–”

You’re cut off when Joel lets go of your lips and swipes his fingers through your dripping wet folds agonizingly slowly, once, twice, three times, barely brushing your pulsating clit.

Listening to the noises you make and feeling your hot cunt on his hand is enough to make him almost come, despite his cock not having any contact at the moment. His eyes never leave yours as you whimper desperately, his barely there touch enough to build your long overdue orgasm.

“Go on, angel,” he withdraws his hand and holds his hand up to your lips, “clean up the mess you made.”

He pushes his wet fingers into your mouth, forcing you to suck your own juices off of him. You do so eagerly, sucking and licking his fingers, moaning around them.

“You would’ve sucked my cock in front of everyone if I had let you, huh.” You let out a desperate moan, feeling your pussy get wetter at the thought. “That’s right, baby,” Joel chuckles. “Show everyone you’re my little cockslut.”

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, satisfied with the job you did, then grabs your chin hard, his wet fingers pressing into your hot cheeks.

“You want it so bad, baby? Then beg for it.”

“Please,” you whine. “Please let me suck your cock, please, I–I want your cock so bad—”

“All yours, baby.”

He leans back in his chair, clasping his hands behind his head, looking at you through lidded eyes.

“Fuuuck, that’s it,” Joel groans as you start licking and sucking at his balls, then lightly trace the veins of his cock with your warm tongue, swirling it around the tip, licking up the salty precum. You look at him expectantly as you lick up and down his length, fondling his balls with your hand.

He smiles at the needy look in your eyes, finding it unbelievably hot that you want to, need to hear his praise so badly even though it’s obvious that everything you do to him is and feels beyond perfect.

“Good girl,” he says softly, eliciting a little whimper from you. “Now stop teasing and take it.”

You immediately hold him up by the base and take the tip into your mouth, sucking on it eagerly. You take him further, inch by inch, bobbing your head up and down his shaft until he’s nudging the back of your throat. Your eyes well over with tears as you gag around his cock. Joel groans in response, his whole body tensing as he tangles his hands in your hair.

You make a surprised sound when he leans over you and pushes your head down until your nose is rubbing his pubic hair, giving you no chance to move your head. He keeps his length buried deep inside you for a few seconds before pulling you up, a thick string of saliva mixed with precum connecting you two, only to push you right back down.

“Fuck, I love the sounds you make,” Joel pants as you choke and whine loudly.

He pulls your head back up to let you catch your breath and make sure you’re enjoying yourself as much as he is. He knows from the look in your eyes that you are, but he wants to make sure before you continue.

“What’s your color, angel?”

You look at him with bleary eyes, but give him a dazed smile and whisper, “Green.”

Joel nods and caresses your wet cheeks, wiping away some of your tears with his thumbs.

He traces your swollen lips with the head of his cock, loving the way his precum sticks to them.

“Breathe through your nose, baby,” he pants. “Can’t have you passing out on me.”

You wrap your lips around his head, swirl your tongue around it, then bob your head again – messily, sloppily, just the way he likes it.

“Good girl,” he breathes, thrusting his hips to slide in and out of your mouth, smiling at you and petting your hair. “Such a perfect little fleshlight.”

You tremble and moan around him, not entirely sure if his filthy mouth, his groaning, or the fact that he’s using you for his pleasure is turning you on the most. You just know you love it when he holds your head steady and fucks your mouth roughly, taking what he wants from you, making you gag and choke, saliva and tears running down your cheeks, chin, neck, and body.

You look like a masterpiece.

“I’m close, baby,” Joel pants, your perfect, wet mouth and the admiration he sees in your big, wet eyes making him tremble every time he thrusts his hips into you. You push him right over the edge when you squeeze his balls hard.

He comes with a strangled groan, shooting rope after rope of warm cum down your throat and onto your tongue. You welcome it with eager moans, so far gone that you don’t realize what you’re doing until after it’s too late — you swallow it all without his permission.

Fatal mistake.

Joel grabs you by your hair, pulling you off his pulsating cock, still breathing heavily.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?”

Your eyes widen in shock, your lip quivering. “I–I'm sorry, I–I forgot.”

“You forgot?” Joel sighs and raises his eyebrows. He loosens his grip in your hair and looks at your eyes welling up with tears. You stumble over your words as you keep apologizing over and over again. You’re so perfect like this.

“What’s your color, baby?”

“Green, Sir,” you sniffle. “It’s green.”

“Now what am I supposed to do with a fleshlight that doesn’t work right, hm?” He tilts your chin up and rubs it softly with his thumb. “Do you think you deserve to get fucked?”

“I’m—please, I'll be good, I promise,” you choke out through tears and hiccups. “Please, I’ll do anything you want, just please—”

Joel smirks and leans back in his chair. “No need to tell me that, angel. I know you’ll do anything.” He lifts his foot between your thighs, eliciting a small, needy noise from you when he presses it against your swollen cunt.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. All from being used, hm?”

“Yes, Sir,” you whine, wiping your cheeks and trying your hardest to stay still. “Thank you.”

“Such a pathetic little slut.” He rubs his foot against your folds, and you moan, closing your eyes, your lips trembling, your face hot from embarrassment and arousal. Joel presses harder and you cry out, your hips jerking instinctively.

“Pathetic enough to hump my leg?”

He snorts when he sees the stunned look on your face. You are definitely startled, but you don't protest. Joel can see a mix of hesitation and need in your eyes, and he understands that he needs to push you.

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he says, gently petting your hair, “so you better thank me for letting you come at all.”

He sighs and pulls your head back by your hair when you don’t answer fast enough.

“Use your words, slut.”

“Th–thank you,” you whimper. “I–I just–” You trail off, too shocked and embarrassed to finish your sentence, your voice trembling as you babble unintelligibly.

You hear Joel say your name and feel him cup your cheeks. “Look at me, sweetheart.”

You sniffle and try to focus on his eyes. “Tell me your color,” he says gently, his deep voice soothing your nerves.

“Still green,” you breathe, swallowing hard.

He searches your eyes and nods before sitting back up and extending his leg a little.

“Go on, then.”

You look at the satisfied smirk on his face before taking a deep breath and scooting forward, adjusting yourself against Joel’s leg. Gripping Joel’s thigh for balance, you tilt your hips forward until your clit makes contact with his hairy leg. You shudder at the feeling, a needy little moan escaping your lips.

Joel’s pupils are so blown, his eyes are completely black now.

You slowly drag your hips upward and duck your head, embarrassed that you’re actually enjoying this – and that you’re this wet. After slowly rocking your hips up and down a few times, you can’t keep yourself from moaning anymore. It feels to fucking good.

You shift a little and allow yourself to set a pace that will make you come. You nuzzle your face against Joel’s thigh and don’t hold back anymore, rutting against his leg with abandon, chasing your release.

“That’s it, angel,” Joel purrs, gently brushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. “You’re doing so well for me.”

You rock your hips against his leg over and over again, your brows furrowed, whimpering desperately as you grind your wet folds against Joel’s leg, the friction causing your whole body to shudder.

Joel fucking loves seeing you like this; pliant, obedient, wanting to be good so badly that you’d do anything to please him. Most of all, though, he loves how much you trust him.

“You’re such a good girl,” he praises, tilting your chin up to look into your glazed over eyes. “My good girl.”

You moan at his words, your fingers digging into the flesh of his thighs, your hips jerking frantically, desperate for release. Joel smiles softly at your reaction, reveling in the fact that he's ruining you for anyone else.

He fucking delights in it.

“That’s right, angel. Keep looking at me with those beautiful eyes.”

You barely hear what he says as your breathing comes out in noisy, deep gasps, too far gone, too overwhelmed to feel embarrassed at fucking yourself on Joel’s leg. There are no thoughts left in your brain, your only focus now is chasing your climax.

“Feels good, huh? Such a spoiled brat, aren’t you,” he taunts, marveling at your blissed out expression and the sheen of sweat glistening on your naked body.

“You think you deserve to come, hm? Even though you’re just a dumb little whore, only good for taking my cock in all her holes?”

That’s almost enough right there to tip you over the edge.

“Tell me what you are.”

You let out a choked sob, fresh tears making their way down your cheeks. Joel wipes them away with his thumbs as you stutter, “I’m–I’m your dumb little whore, Sir. I’m all yours — please, please–”

He gives you a warm smile as his dark eyes bore into. “Come for me, angel.”

You press your throbbing clit hard against him, humping his leg feverishly until the tension finally snaps and shockwaves grip your whole body, your legs trembling as you moan uncontrollably. Your walls contract around nothing as you collapse onto Joel’s thigh and start sobbing.

It’s all too much right now.

He immediately draws you into his strong arms, lifting you up and cradling you. “Shh, sweetheart,” he purrs, holding you tight and stroking your hair, “you did so well. Are you alright, hm? You want me to go get you a towel?”

Your eyes widen at the suggestion of him leaving you, causing you to shake your head fervently, your tears flowing freely now as you gradually come down from your high.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby” he coos, putting soft kisses on the top of your head and rubbing soothing circles on your back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You're still naked and Joel wants you to feel comfortable and warm, so he swivels you two towards the couch to snag the blanket and drape it over you. He holds you close, whispering into your hair how well you did and how good you are, intermittently pressing soft kisses on your wet face.

You feel the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath, a comforting rhythm that wraps around you like a protective cocoon. The warmth emanating from his body seeps into yours, making you feel calm and protected.

Joel’s not surprised that you need physical affection and closeness right now, knowing that humiliation is one of the most effective ways to make you fly – and crash.

Falling apart in front of somebody, allowing them to see you in such a raw, uninhibited state, is an incredibly vulnerable act.

Joel is not taking your trust lightly.

When he sees you wipe your nose with your arm, he swivels you back to his desk and opens the drawer to get you some tissues. Your heart skips a beat when you see what else is inside, but you keep quiet.

“Was I really good?” You mumble after listening to Joel’s calming heartbeat for a few minutes.

“You were perfect, baby,” he says softly, pressing a tender kiss on the crown of your head.

“So, can you fuck me now?”

The vibrations of Joel’s chuckles reverberate beneath you, making you laugh yourself.

“How about we make sure you drink enough and eat something first, hm?”

“Just say that your refractory period is getting longer, old man.”

“Why, hello,” he laughs and pinches your sides, making you squeal, “the princess is back.” You lift your head to look into his eyes. His beautiful, warm eyes. “You think I’ll fuck you if you keep being a brat, hm?”

“That’s exactly what I think. Because you always do. Because you love it.”

“Wow,” he chuckles and shakes his head. “All this just now and you’re still sassing me?”

“Just admit you fucking love it, so we can move on and decide what we wanna have for dinner,” you murmur.

Joel can’t hold back the beaming smile that’s spreading across his face.

Save for last time, you usually leave shortly after you’ve come down. He’ll sometimes ask if you want to stay a bit, but will never pressure you into doing so – even if it hurts him.

And it does, sometimes, if he’s being honest.

“Alright, alright,” he sighs deeply, his smile betraying his mocking tone. “I fucking love it when you’re a little brat and torture me all fucking day, making me sit in a fucking meeting for hours on end with a hard cock, listening to some rich fucks who want me to build some bullshit building for them.”

You giggle at the description of his day and kiss his dimple. “I really am sorry, you know.”

“No you’re not,” he shakes his head. “Now, what are you in the mood for?”

“Can we, um, can we go eat the fattiest, unhealthiest junk food ever and then wash it down with huge cups of pure sugar, so we’re both gonna have a stomach ache for the next three days?”

“Have I ever told you you’re perfect before?”

---

You step out of the shower, dry off, wash your face with Joel’s face wash and drink a glass of water. Joel put your bag outside the door when you were in the shower, giving you space to do your thing and going downstairs to take a shower there himself.

You’re kind of tired now, feeling a little burnt out.

You put on your panties and retrieve the comfy gym shorts you were smart enough to bring with you from your bag. They’re the only other clean piece of clothing besides the dress you could find in your drawer this morning.

“Joel?” You shout from the top of the stairs.

“Yeah?”

“Can I borrow a t-shirt?”

“Sure, darlin’. Just grab one you like.”

“Thank you.”

You smile and make your way to Joel’s bedroom. Opening the drawer, your eyes fall on a white shirt you’ve seen him wear many times. Don’t do it. You sigh defeatedly and lift the shirt up to your face, inhaling the unmistakable scent.

Then you suddenly remember it. Fuck. You need to make sure.

You put on the shirt and quickly walk to the office. Taking a deep breath and making sure Joel’s not watching you snoop through his things, you open the drawer.

The polaroid feels strange in your hand as you lift it to take a closer look.

It’s one of Tommy, you and Joel in it, from the night Tommy introduced you two. You don’t even remember taking this one, but now that you’re looking at it, you see something. It’s the way you’re smiling.

You turn the photo and read the handwritten note that catches your eye.

when I met her

You swallow hard and put it back. It doesn’t mean anything. You hung the other polaroid, the one of only you and Joel, up in your apartment and that doesn’t mean anything either—right?

“Babe?” Joel’s voice pulls you back.

You turn around and look at him, startled. “I, uh, was just looking for some batteries. Couldn’t find any though.”

“I got plenty downstairs,” he says with a tilt of his head. “Come on, let’s go.”

---

You’re sitting in a booth, munching on your burger, intermittently sipping your soda. You don’t even realize you haven’t answered Joel for the third time.

“Are you sure everything’s okay, sweetheart?” Joel touches your arm, his brow furrowed. You look at his concerned face, his cute little frown, before putting down your burger with a sigh.

“I, uh,” you start but can’t think of the right words. “I’m just feeling a little off these days, I guess. Work’s been stressful and, um, you–you’re gonna think I’m weird,” you murmur while picking at the fries on your plate.

“Darlin’,” Joel sighs, taking your hand into his, “you’re the weirdest person I’ve ever met.” He chuckles when he sees your offended face. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

He rubs the back of your hand softly and searches your eyes. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“It’s, um,” you clear your throat. “Do you ever get this feeling that there’s something looming?”

He tilts his head and looks at you curiously. “I’m not sure I follow, darlin’?”

“Like if you’re happy, do you ever feel like it’s not real, it can’t be real, and there’s something looming? Like there’s something just waiting to fuck everything up?”

When he doesn’t answer, you avert your gaze and try to withdraw your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m killing the vi–”

“No, sweetheart. Hey, c’mere.” He extends both of his hands to you on the table and you give him yours to hold. “I’m sorry, darlin’,” he murmurs, “your question just caught me off guard a little.”

You softly rub his hand with your right thumb and study his features. He looks gorgeous with his tousled hair and his big cow eyes.

“Look, I know that happiness is hard to accept sometimes because we’re afraid of it not lasting. It may even seem easier to sabotage it preemptively, so we’re not disappointed or don’t get hurt when something bad does happen. And I also know that we sometimes don’t think we even deserve to be happy.”

Bingo.

“But sweetheart, I need you to understand something,” he squeezes your hands gently, his sincere eyes boring into you.

“If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you.”

You try your best to blink away the tears that are forming in your eyes.

---

Thank you for reading! 🤍 part 4 || part 6 || series masterlist

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simpcityy · 9 months

Text

I'm Not Her Pt.3 (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This short One-Shot has made it into a series! Read part one and two please to understand the prompt better. (Linked Below)

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad for now. Other dimensional Miguel…mention of blood, stabbing, knife, curing in Spanish, maybe consider yandere behavior...Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the day of the concert, and you couldn’t be happier. Things were finally looking up, you got the latest technology, tickets to the concert but what was more important to you, was having your father back. “Estás lista?” Miguel stood by your door watching you put on all the needed accessories for the concert. “Yup! I am, why is my ride outside?” You panicked as you grabbed your bag, shoving phone, charger, anything that you thought might be useful. “Are you going like that? No crees que estás mostrando demasiada piel?” He is uncertain about your outfit. “I’ll be fine; besides I am bringing a jacket just in case I get cold” You assure him before walking to the door. Only to feel a rough hand holding her upper arm, “Don’t you think you are forgetting something?” Miguel looks down at you. You look at his hand holding your arm and up to him, a feeling in your gut was telling you to run, it was like your Spidey senses were telling you something was wrong. Then you remember you don’t have that, but it felt like you were in danger. You only shook the thought away thinking maybe it’s because you’re not used to the affection or being even held by your father. “Sorry papá” You stood on your toes as Miguel smiled, leaning over a bit so you could kiss his cheek. “Be safe and out of trouble” He calls out to you as you run out the door.

Back at HQ, Miguel watched everything on his screen for the past few days. After what Lyla has told him about getting concert tickets supposedly by him. He went to investigate who and what the hell was going on. Lyla only watched as he stayed quiet watching you having a blast with this new impostor. “Miguel…what are we going to do…” Miguel only kept quiet pulling up information on this impostor. “There has to be a reason they came to my dimension…to take my spot…” He stops himself as memories of him taking Gabriella’s father spot come to him. He knew what he did was wrong, he watched the man die and took his place when he himself had a little girl waiting for him back home, but he didn’t listen to his brain, he listened to his heart on that day. Because of that, he destroyed a dimension and destroyed his relationship with his daughter (Y/N). “Miguel…are you okay? What are we going to do…should I warn (Y/n) what is going on now that she’s not with him at the moment?” Miguel only shakes his head as he focuses back, “I’ll have a plan soon and I want you to keep this between us…can’t risk (Y/n) getting hurt if she finds out.” He says as he looks more on his screen before finally finding the file. “This Miguel is from Earth 954…In his dimension…(Y/n) …” He looks away. He finally understands this imposter's plan and he understands his pain. “In his dimension…she’s dead, isn’t she?” Lyla asked as she read the information with him. “(Y/n) is in the concert, right?” He asked Lyla about your location. The AI nods her head, “Perfect, it gives me time to chat with this person.”

He opens the portal and stands on the rooftop of the apartment. He changes into his civilian clothes before walking down the stairs heading to the floor number greeting a few neighbors with grunts. He grabs the keys only to find they don’t belong on that door. Miguel frowns, “Hijo de puta…he even changed my locks” He mutters as he uses his strength to break the handle and walks inside the apartment carefully. All the lights were off but that was no problem for him. He walked around his own apartment finding things that weren’t there before. Pictures that never took with you, parts of new couches. This imposter was getting cozy in his own home! He walks to each room checking to see what changed, he goes to open the door to his room but stops seeing the handle turn over. He quickly hides in your room and peaks overseeing the variant walk out of his room wearing his clothes. Miguel quietly follows him behind ready to strike before blocking a punch quickly. “Took you long enough” The variant looks at him drawing back his hand away. “I was starting to wonder when you’ll come back.” He looks at Miguel before seeing how similar the two of them are. “It’s not fair…” The variant says, “That your (Y/n) is alive and mine isn’t…it’s not fair…that you treat her like she’s nothing when I don’t have my (Y/n) to love…I’m doing you a favor really…being the father she deserves.” He whispers to Miguel with no emotion. “Voy a deshacerme de ti...y tendré una vida feliz con ella antes de que se acabe el tiempo…” He whispers. Miguel looks at him watching him carefully, “before times up…Qué demonios quieres decir con eso?” Miguel felt something terrible was awaiting with those words. The variant glitches as they grunt in discomfort. “I don’t know how much time I have left…but when the time comes…you nor me…will have her. Besides you wouldn’t miss her since all you can think is that Gabriella who was never your daughter to begin with” Miguel glares, “You stay away from her and keep Briella’s name out of this” He frowns and walks over to him. “No wait! Miguel, it's a trap!” Lyla tries to warn but it was too late. Miguel looks down feeling a sharp pain in his lower abdomen. He looks seeing a small kitchen blade. “I’ll be taking that” The Variant grabs the watch from Miguel and puts it on himself before summoning a portal. “This should get rid of you.” He mutters and smirks, pushing Miguel back into the portal to a random earth. “Good luck trying to find your way back…now you know how it feels to be…replaced…” Miguel only felt the pain from the stab and watched as the portal closed once, he landed in a pile of trash in pain.

Lyla panicked before appearing in front of you, “(Y/N)! Hey Boo!” She yelled watching you fix your lipgloss in the bathroom. She was glad the bathroom was empty. “Lyla? Is something the matter?” You look at her as she seems so panicked. “Boo! You need to know that the Miguel in the house is no-” She starts to glitch. “Lyla?!” You look at her worried before the AI was completely gone. You quickly grabbed your phone and dialed your father's number, but it went through voice mail. Running out of the bathroom, you ran past your friends, telling them that you were sorry, but something came up. Making sure you were alone; you made a portal to take you straight to your apartment as a shortcut. You ran to the apartment door and saw the handle broken; something must have happened. “Dad!” You yell walking in the apartment and saw Miguel cleaning up what seemed to be blood. “Dad…Oh my god are you okay!?” You ran to him. Miguel was caught off guard seeing you home so soon. “Why aren’t you in the concert? Pasó algo?” He gets up walking to you worriedly. “Lyla was telling me something about you?! Are you hurt?” Your eyes were glued to the blood. Miguel blocks your sight and holds you close. “No pasó nada” He assures you, caressing your hair. “It was just a …misunderstanding” He whispers. “Lyla had a virus in her system…so I shut her down for now.” He explains, “I’m sorry if she scared you” He kisses the top of your head not letting you go. “Everything is okay…todo está bien.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Authors Note: OH GOD, this series is very popular. Thank you so much for the support. Make sure to like and reblog so others can be aware of my works! I'm working on requests and hopefully start the 100-follower special now that results are in. College is starting soon again so my time will be limited. Also, a few asked about my etsy shop so I will drop a link here and on my main post as well. There is so much to do! I have to finish this series and my Biomedical Engineer as well. I have a new idea for a future series, but I don't know if people would enjoy it like this one. It has to do with basically the young spiderlings find the yearbook of the reader and they see she looks like, "my daddy owns a yacht" kind of gal. She admits that she was a spoil teen before meeting Miguel and marrying him. Which the series takes back to the past where the reader is the spoil rich girl who falls in love with Miguel, someone of lower class. Consist of her breaking rules of her toxic family, seeing the other parts of the world her family shields her of, and tasting amazing street foods with Miguel as first dates. 😊🥰. It's just a thought. Anyway, thank you so much for the support! Sorry for any grammar errors. Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 220 *WOW!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH*)

Make sure to comment to be added in the taglist for this series or to be dropped.

Spanish Translation: 1. Estás lista?: Are you ready or you ready? 2. No crees que estás mostrando demasiada piel: Don't you think you're showing too much skin? 3. Voy a deshacerme de ti...y tendré una vida feliz con ella antes de que se acabe el tiempo: I am going to get rid of you...and I am going to have a happy life with her before my time is up. 4. Qué demonios quieres decir con eso: What the hell do you mean with that 5. Pasó algo?: Did something happen? 6. No pasó nada: Nothing happened 7. todo está bien: Everything is okay

Taglist: @perfectprofessorloverapricot @otaku-degenarate @strbyallycow @zeyzeys-stuff @moonshine147 @dhadiirah @ghibliwatcher @certified-kaeya-kinnie @luvsvnlqt-things @lunamhm565i @sangdium45 @lazyotakuofficial @ihateuguys @pinkeroppi @lady-necromancer

Link to Etsy if you'll like to check it out. Check it out

#miguel ohara fic #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #father figure miguel ohara #miguel ohara x platonic reader

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mytheoristavenue · 16 days

Text

TMNT 2012 Raphael Hamato x Reader 🍋 - Rough and Tumble

🥀 Commissioned by: @psypeachi

🥀 For questions about commissions, or to view full or partial commissions like this one, visit my Commission Diary for more info!

🥀 Part one here!

🥀 Divider belongs to @benkeibear

🥀 Summary: After dating Rap for almost a year, he begins to ache for you...

🥀 Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, smut, porn w/ plot, unprotected sex, creampie, face sitting, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, dirty talk, teasing, dom!Raph, sub!reader, fem!reader, first time, virgin!Raph, virgin!Reader

🥀 Word Count: 4,175

Your relationship with Raph had been an utter whirlwind up until this point, starting on that faithful night, lying in your bed eating pizza and dripping grease on your cocktail dress. Nearly a year had passed since then, and not a day went by that the two of you weren’t absolutely enamored with one another. Raph hardly ever spoke of anything but you, gushing to his brothers behind your back, even more excruciatingly often than Donnie had over April. He held you in the highest regard- you hung the moon in his eyes, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been disappointed with the pace of things.

Though he’d never gathered the courage to profess it, Raph had an ache for you that no amount of kisses or cuddles could cure. He hungered- no, starved for you in a way that destroyed his sense of morality when he looked at you, blinking at his advances without a clue in the world. He felt endless guilt for the way he pictured your body and the unspeakable things he wanted to do to it, coupled with that innocent face you had. But the corruption was part of the fun.

-----

“Honey!” you beamed cheerfully, strolling into the lair. “I’m home, and I brought you something!”

“Well, hello to you too,” Leo grumbled, playfully rolling his eyes as he sat in a beanbag, flipping through TV channels.

“Sorry, Leo!” you rubbed the back of your neck sheepishly. “I didn’t even see you, I was just excited to see-”

“Raph, I know.” He chuckled. “So, what’d you get him?” He asked, eyes never leaving the television.

Excitedly, you hurried over to him, crouching down at his side and pulling the contents of the bag you had out. “Our anniversary is coming up, and Raph mentioned wanting to learn how to kickbox, so I got us matching gloves and kneepads! See?” You explained, showing off one of each pair of gloves. Both were ruby red, with gold stitching and embroidery. “I even got them monogrammed! Do you think he’ll like them?”

The eldest turtle gave a kind smile as he handed you back the gift. “I know it,” he confirmed with a nod, beginning to turn his attention back to the TV. “He’s actually in the dojo now, you should go give them to him.” Without another word or thanks for the encouragement, you were gone, throwing the door to the dojo open. Leo rolled his eyes at your antics, continuing to channel surf. “You’re welcome.”

“Hi, honey!” you chirped again, your eyes falling on your boyfriend, who, upon seeing you, gleefully dropped what he was doing to run over and scoop you up.

“What’s up, baby?” He asked, pecking your lips as he set you down. “What’cha got there?”

“A present for you,” you teased, rocking from heel to toe. “Early anniversary gift.”

“Doll, you didn’t have to get me anything,” he sighed, taking the bag as you enthusiastically shoved it into his arms.

“I wanted to, besides, it’s for both of us.” you snickered while he began to dig through the bag.

“Oh my God,” he paused, shoulders slumping. “Baby, you didn’t-”

“I did.” You giggled, preparing for a hug of gratitude, which you immediately received.

“Babe, you’re the best. I love you so much, thank you.” Raph praised into your hair, his head resting atop yours. Moments later, he broke apart from you, slipping the gloves over his hands, admiring the fit and look of them.

“I got me a pair too, I thought we could learn to kickbox together!” you sang, dipping into the bag to fetch your own pair.

“Baby, I don’t know what to say, this is awesome.” He gushed, watching you with a dopey, lovesick smile.

“You don’t need to say anything, babe. But you can put up your dukes because I’m gonna kick your butt!”

-----

You did, in fact, not kick his butt. In fact, you hadn’t been able to land a single hit on him since you began sparring. Every punch you threw was redirected in a way that almost always landed you flat on your back, your lover looming over you with a cocky grin. Laid out on the mat for what you decided would be the last time, you huffed, growling as you shot up at him.

“What’s the matter, dollface?” Raph taunted, peridot eyes playful but full of an emotion you couldn’t place. “Gettin’ mad?”

“No!” you shouted bitterly. “I was just going easy on you!”

“Sure…” he laughed, turning his back on you, cracking his knuckles as he gloated. This was your opening. Gritting your teeth, you swept your leg out, kicking his feet out from under him before wrestling him to the floor. Before he could catch his bearings, Raph found himself in a headlock, your thighs squeezing the life from his throat as you twisted his arm and pulled it away from him.

“How’s that, huh?!” you hollered, pulling your meanest face. “You like that?!” Oh, did he. He never in his wildest dreams would’ve imagined you’d get him like this, and still be so oblivious to the effect you had on him at that. You took his silence as surrender, cheering for yourself as you rolled him into a new position, laying him out flat and sitting on his chest, arms pinned under your knees so he couldn’t escape. “Ha! I told you I was gonna kick your butt!”

Unbeknownst to you, Raph was coming undone beneath your weight, mind running free with all the most lewd ways he could take advantage of this. Ultimately, though struggling, he contained himself- that is, until you opened your mouth again, ruining his hardly-kept zen. “Not all big and bad now, are you?”

“Oh, baby, I’ll show your ass ‘big and bad’! C’mere!” With that and minimal effort on his part, you both were switched. You now laid beneath him as he straddled your waist, both of your wrists in a single hand as his other was planted firmly on your face, squishing your cheeks together.

There was a pause as dead silence hung in the air, neither of you moving a muscle, only gazing into each other’s eyes. Within seconds, your lips crashed against his, giving him all the consent he needed for now. A few soft moans tumbled over your lips in the few instances that they were unoccupied, stirring his stomach further into oblivion. His hand left your face, trailing down, lingering at your throat a moment before continuing, caressing your curves. To you, he was feeling you up, but in reality, Raph was mapping you out, meticulously learning and memorizing every dip, ridge, and curve.

A stir in the adjoined room made you both freeze, knowing that Master Splinter would punish you both to the fullest extent possible if he caught you making out in the dojo. Once all seemed clear, your beaux pulled you up from the floor before lugging you over his shoulder, much to your humiliation. “R-Raphael Hamato! You put me down this instant!” you scolded deaf ears as he continued to the door. “You are not carrying me like this in front of your brothers!” That was precisely what he was going to do.

-----

After what could only be described as a walk of shame, you were escorted to his bedroom, where you were immediately tossed on his bed. “W-Wait-” you halfheartedly protested.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he huffed, backing up a bit. “Guess I got kinda carried away.” he laughed sheepishly, crawling closer again. “I just…I get so riled up when I’m with you, especially when you’re on top of me like that- Fuck, you just look so pretty.”

Though it wasn’t uncommon for him to compliment your looks, the way he said it made you feel like it was the first time hearing it. It felt just like how he showered you with praise that first night.

“Y-You think I’m pretty when I sit on top of you..?” you repeated, more to hear it from your own lips than to have the statement clarified. He simply nodded in response, eyes glued to your lips, leaning in as if he wasn’t actually in tune with the world around him.

“The prettiest, baby,” he muttered, capturing your kiss again, crawling between your bent knees to loom over you like before. “So so fuckin’ pretty…”

“Raph, you’re making me nervous…” you confessed between kisses. “You’re not usually this forward…”

For a moment, he backed away again, the image of you rejecting his advances flashing through his mind. Mossy eyes peered up into yours, searching for anything to indicate emotion, but fell short- you were so conflicted. On one hand, you’d never had much sexual experience, and the thought of potentially being a bad lay terrified you. You’d heard stories of boys dumping girls due to lack of experience, and no matter how close you two were, that fear was nearly impossible to shake. Though, on the other hand, it was hard to ignore the way his praise made you melt like you were digesting magma- so was the way your legs shook at the prospect.

“Sorry…” he finally sighed, out of breath while his fingers absent-mindedly gripped at any bit of you they could reach. “I’m not tryna’ make you uncomfortable but,” he paused, breath hitching in his throat as he pictured you. “Baby I want you, so so so bad.”

The revelation left you reeling, fuzzy-headed with tummy churning. Suddenly, everything was so clear. It all made sense, the positions you find yourselves in, the way he’d shower you with compliments so close to your ear you could hardly hear them. “Y-You…” you trailed, breathing labored, and stuck in your windpipe. “Want me...?”

Raph sighed, finally you understood how he burned for you. “Yes, baby. I want you real bad. You have no idea the shit I wanna do to you.” Seeing you ease into the idea, he took the liberty of lifting your hand, planting kisses up your arm. He thought it’d be a romantic way to gently push forward, but all that went out the window when he heard you softly whimper:

“Show me how bad…?”

In an instant, he was on you, kissing your lips roughly, guiding your arms around his neck while he slowly began to trail down your jaw. This wasn’t the first time you’d made out to the point of fondling and drooling all over each other’s throats but this time was special- you could feel it. You whined under his touch as his cold fingers inched up under the hem of your shirt. Writhing at the sensation, you instinctively arched your back in a vain effort to be closer to him. Chuckling at you, he slipped an arm under your back, holding you against him as he gnawed at your flesh, leaving mild bruises peppered along your neck and should as he went. “Oh, Raph…” you cried, overwhelmed by the lust bubbling inside you.

“Love it when you say my name like that,” he purred into your collarbone. “Fuck, I wanna do everything to you…”

“Tell me…” you whispered, barely audibly. “Tell me all the dirty things you think about…”

Raph shuddered, hearing those words in your voice as he buried his face into your shoulder. “Wanna taste that sweet pussy of yours, fuck this throat,” he groaned, fingers ghosting over your flesh, threatening to choke you. “Want you to ride me ‘til the sun comes up.”

“Is that all?” you muttered, struggling to keep a confident face as his words hit straight to your womb.

“Not even close, baby.” He smirked against your skin. “Want you every way.”

Sitting up against him, you began to shift positions. You were tired of laying there, letting him do all the work- you needed to show that you wanted him equally so. “In that case,” you said airily, popping up on top. “I'm all yours, baby.”

-----

Raph was beginning to feel a sting in his bottom lip, having now definitely broken skin. Biting it was the only thing he could do to keep himself together. His fingers had tangled themselves in your hair as one arm rested behind his head for support. You’d never thought he’d be so vocal when experiencing pleasure, but there he was, lounging in bed, moaning, whining, cussing, and praising all at the same time. It made you sticky knowing you were doing this to him, reducing him to putty in your hands- or rather in your mouth.

It had taken you a minute to get the hang of this, and a few directions from him, such as “A-Ah, no teeth baby- fuck yeah, that's it!” but you felt like you were a pro at this point. Diligently, your head bobbed you and down nearly his full length, only stopping when your nose smooshed against his shell or his tip tickled the back of your throat.

“Oh my God, you’re so fuckin’ good at this, baby.” he groaned guiding your head gently. “Taking this dick like a fuckin’ champ.” You hummed in response, loving his praise and how you made him feel. “Can’t wait to eat up that little pussy, gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

Jaw tired, you decided to take his talkativeness as an opportunity for rest, pulling off him with a pop. Instead, you nuzzled your face against his crotch, languidly pumping him in your fist. “Tell me how you want me baby.” you cooed, peppering kisses along his shaft.

“Fuck, you're gonna make me cum if you keep talkin’ like that…” he groaned, bucking his hips up, missing the warmth of your mouth.

“I better stop then…” you teased lustily, halting your motion altogether and releasing your grip just enough so all he could feel was your fingertips and palm ghosting against him.

“Baby, don’t do this to me,” Raph whined, eyes screwed shut and breathing heavily. “Damnit, I was so close.” You peered down at him, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you stifled a giggle. It felt amazing to be in control of him after all this time. The power was intoxicating, that was until he grew tired of your taunts and ripped it away from you.

-----

All you could do was scream, hoping nobody else could hear your hysterics as your hips bucked, begging for amazing friction. You were now reduced to ankle socks and a bra, pushed up to reveal your bouncing breasts. Completely naked from the waist down, you now sat, knees on either side of his head, riding his face. The way his tongue worked you was overwhelming, bringing tears to your eyes, as you sobbed for him. “O-Oh my God, Raph-! I-It feels so-!” You were hardly able to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences. “Good!”

Beneath you, Raph burring himself between your thighs, tongue parting your labia and suckling on your swollen clit like it could have been his last meal, moaning the entire time. You were delicious, sweeter tasting than he could’ve possibly imagined. He was addicted to the lack of air, suffocated with your needy heat. It was enough to make him absent-mindedly rock his hips with the rhythm of yours. He might have touched himself had it not been for the grip his hands had on your hips that he was unwilling to part with.

The feeling came upon you so suddenly that you almost didn't recognize it. It wasn’t like when you’d done things by yourself, there was no build-up, no knot snapping taught. It was as if he’d pushed a button that instantly sent you over the edge. “B-Baby!” you shrieked, almost frightened of the spontaneous intense wave of pleasure washing over you. “I-I think I’m-!” Before you could finish your decree, a long, cracking, needy croon was fished from your throat as you rode out the sudden orgasm.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl, let it all out,” your lover encouraged, voice muffled as he continued to work you through your high. “Cum all over my face, pretty-pretty.” You did as he commanded, doing nothing to stop your sweet cream from glazing his mouth and cheeks. Exhausted and emotional, you slid down him and your shoulders slumped as you put your weight in your palms, resting them on his chest. “God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cum.” He smirked, rubbing your thigh comfortingly.

“You need a minute, baby?” He asked, smiling gently up at your flushed face. To his surprise, you urgently shook your head in protest.

“N-No! I’m not done.” you decided, sliding down his plastron. “I wanna go all the way with you…” Your answer stunned him a bit and his smile faded.

“Are you sure, doll? You look pretty tired.” he rationalized. “If we stop here, I won’t be mad, I’ll just finish myself off later.”

Your heart melted at his concern for your comfort, but you still refused. “No,” you huffed, mounting his lap. “I wanna feel you inside me,” You could feel his cock stiffen against your overly sensitive clit, making your hips twitch on contact. Suddenly, a tear slipped from your pleading eye and you looked into him needily. “Please, Raphael…” He tensed, you only used his full name when it was urgent. “I need you to make love to me…”

-----

Initially, the anguish was nearly unbearable, forcing him to pull out several times, but eventually, you got used to the full feeling, only needing now to overcome the sting. Raph was a perfect gentleman throughout, staying perfectly still unless instructed otherwise, and letting you take the lead. “T-Touch me, please…” you begged, needing some sort of distraction from the pain. His palm quickly found your breast, groping and admiring it with one hand while the other stayed on you, keeping you firmly planted against him.

“You have the nicest body, (Y/N)...” he soothed, brushing a thumb over your perked nipple. “Perfect tits, smooth skin, pretty face,” he rambled on, showering you with compliments, waiting for your face to unwrinkle. When it didn’t he thought of something else. “Here, doll,” he cooed, taking both hands off you to guide yours up to your chest. “Play with these for me, ‘kay?” You nodded, obediently fondling yourself with little shame. One hand found its back home on the hump of your hip, while the other came up to your lips, prompting you to wet the fingers. You did so, parting your lips and sucking both thick digits before watching them sink between your thighs.

Soothed by the aid, you hardly even notice when you’d begun to rock your hips, seeking more stimulation against your clit. At first, the movement was minuscule, but soon, you bounced enough to feel his tip bottom out, making you shriek. Beneath you, Raph groaned gutturally at deep penetration and the way you clenched around him when surprised. As if everything fell into place at once, you nodded, ready to officially begin. Wasting no time, he began pumping into you at a painfully slow pace with deep, meaningful strokes.

You hated this, though you couldn’t place why. It was like he was teasing you going so slowly. “R-Raph…faster…” you whimpered, hands roaming your own body. That was all the consent he needed to kick it up a gear, clamping both hands on your hips and picking up pace to a steady rhythm. Before you knew it, you were on cloud nine, bouncing yourself in time with his thrusts, gaining momentum and speed as time drug on.

“Ahhh,” he sighed, brows knitting together. “Yeah, baby just bounce on my cock, you know just what to do, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled, lost in never before felt pleasure.

“You love riding my dick, don’t you princess?” He asked, breathing heavily, trying to distract himself from cumming too early from the excellent squeeze you offered.

“Yes, sir.” you replied with a breathy moan, head thrown back in pleasure.

“How much?” he pressed, the pace picking up to breakneck speed as he brutalized your cervix.

“So fucking much!” you gasped, nearly screaming at the tension building inside as he pounded into you.

“Tell me how much you love riding this dick, baby,” he demanded. “C’mon and be a good girl and tell me,”

Humiliation bubbled inside of your stomach in a way that fueled your fire. Face beet red you shyly muttered: “I-I love…r-riding your dick…” Suddenly, all stimulation ceased and Raph fell as still as the eye of a storm. Looking down, you panicked, slightly annoyed. “W-What? Why’d you stop?” He ignored you, a cocky grin playing on his lips. “G-Go, please!” you begged, even trying to lift yourself off of him to bounce on him again, but his grip on your waist held you cemented to him, but still starving. “W-What gives, babe? Please go!”

“Louder.”

“W-Wha-?” you blushed impossibly deeper, confused and frustrated to bits.

“Say it louder,” he repeated unrelenting.

“Raph-!” you squealed, clicking the pieces together. “Enough games, please!” You continued to struggle against his grip to fuck yourself on his cock, to no avail.

“I’m not gonna finish fucking you until you scream for me.” he flirted darkly. “I want everyone to know who makes you feel this good.” You resisted further, before finally giving in.

“I-I love riding your dick…” you said, nearly in a normal speaking voice. Still, he refused to move.

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you?” He teased, leaning closer as if to hear you better.

“I said I love riding your dick!” barely shouted, relieved to feel the very slightest friction.

“One more time, with feeling and I’ll give it to you so good,” he promised, shallowly rocking his hips. “One more time, baby, loud and proud for me.”

“Please fuck me baby, I love riding your fucking dick!” you finally cried out, gritting your teeth and screaming lewdly into the air when he started again, pounding into you harshly.

“Atta girl!” he purred, locking in on finishing you for good. “You’re so good for me, aren’t you, princess?”

“Y-Yes!,” you gasped, both to the question and just as a general statement. “Yes, yes, yes yes, oh, right there!”

“Fuck baby,” Raph crooned, his toes curling as tension built in his stomach. “You feel so damn good.” As if on cue, he shuddered, coming undone even more quickly upon feeling your messy hole clench around him.

“G-God, Raph, I’m so close!” you wept, slopping rutting your hips against his. “I-I’m gonna-!” Words tumbled over your lips, but the capacity for thought had long since dissolved, only being replaced with a lust that would permanently alter your brain chemistry.

Laid out under you, Raph was in a similar state, mind fogged by your visage and feel and the fact that he had you all to himself. “C-Can’t believe you’re all mine,” He mumbled through gritting teeth and furrowed brows. “Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine-” He began to chant in tune with his brutal thrusts until finally, he tipped over the edge with a string of obscenities.

Likewise, you’d also been reduced to less than coherent speech, simply moaning and whimpering, having entirely given up talking dirty. You could feel it when he came- the bruising grip his fingers had on your thighs, the ache in your tummy from how he’d rearranged your guts, even the warm spurt that filled any gaps his cock hadn’t been able to occupy. Not that you could put two and two together, too focused on your own orgasm as it just began to breach.

The sensation rocked you, filling you with a buzzy warmth you’d never been able to achieve before. It felt so special to feel this for the first time with someone you loved, you thought as you came down from your high, still seeing white. Absent-mindedly, your hands blindly searched for his, unsure for a moment if it had been a dream. You were relieved to feel his large hand envelope yours, softly caressing your fingers with his thumb.

“I’m right here, baby,” he soothed, almost as if he’d read your mind. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” You smiled at this, tiredly pushing against him to give just enough space for his softening member to flop out of you. You shuddered at the empty feeling and the way his seed leaked out of you in what felt like gallons. Not caring enough to clean up right away, you simply laid ontop of him, head resting just under his chin.

“I love you…” you said, as less of a reminder than a need for validation in your fragile state.

“I love you too, dollface.” he sighed, petting your hair. “Thanks for trusting me.”

“Mhmm…” you hummed in response, threatening to nod off.

“Think this’ll happen again?” he wondered aloud, propping his head up with a bent arm.

“Maybe…” you replied softly, secretly wishing he’d shut up and let you sleep already.

“Well, if it does, we should probably use a condom next time.”

🥀 Thank you so much for reading, please like, reblog, comment, and follow for more content! If you enjoy my TMNT content, consider checking out my other works here!

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odditycircus-2002 · 5 months

Text

Mortal Kombat 1 Intros with Medusa!Reader

Spoilers for Story mode: Proceed with caution

Yourself (Mirror Match)

Y/N: How could you possibly willingly marry that snake?!?

Y/N 2: My dear snake gave me the fruits of knowledge you could never imagine. /

Y/N 1: Ugh, let me guess, you’re also married to Shang Tsung? Y/N 2: No, I am happily married to Syzoth. /

Y/N 2: Such a disappointment looking at my carbon copy. Y/N 1: It isss more disappointing that you are as insanely depraved as you are!

Y/N 2: Have you considered the benefits of Kytinn royal jelly for your cure?

Y/N 1: Ha! As I- Mmmhhh, You may be on to something. /

Y/N 1: I thought Lord Lui Kang turned you to dust! Y/N 2: Do you really think my husband and I would not have any contingencies? /

Y/N 1: You made Empress Sindel do WHAT? Y/N 2 gives a malicious chuckle: Pulling her strings was some of the most fun I had in a long time.

Y/N 1: You have some rather questionable taste in bedfellows.

Y/N 2: At least I can hold mine without fear of being stabbed instantly.

/ Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung: Across all timelines, we were meant to be.

Y/N: Never in this one or the next will I ever belong to you!

Shang Tsung: You have to understand what you saw in my lab is what true progress looks like.

Y/N: To think, I ever marveled at watching you work with your magic.

Shang Tsung: I know you would love the rare flora that can be found on my island-

Y/N: I rather see a carnivorous plant digest you slowly.

Y/N: I regret not ending you when I had the chance.

Shang Tsung: Don’t blame yourself too much, my sweet. I know you still hold a torch for me.

Y/N: You will NOT lay a hand on Baraka!

Shang Tsung: I will not let a filthy beast get in between us!

Y/N angrily: Every day, I wake up to find a stranger in the mirror.

Shang Tsung softly: And yet, you're the same clever woman as always.

Shang Tsung angrily: It wasn't enough to steal my birthright, but you also had to take away my soul mate?

Lui Kang: I did nothing of the sort, YOU drove her away.

Baraka

Y/N coquettishly: Do not go easy on me, Baraka.

Baraka: I know how you like it rough.

Y/N: So we are in agreement?

Baraka: Only IF you win, I'll stomach any greens you want me to eat for the next 3 moons.

Y/N: Sometimes, I wish we could-

Baraka: So do I, Y/N

Y/N: I heard from Ashrah that you asked her to end your life if you were to lose your mind.

Baraka: I did not want to burden your soul by having you take my life.

Baraka: How close are you to finding a cure?

Y/N: As much as I loathed to admit it, Shang Tsung's research has put me even closer to finding a permanent one.

Baraka: If you want to enter the Kytinn Hive, you’ll need to fight harder than ever before.

Y/N: I know I can trust you to watch my back, my friend.

Baraka: Stay away from Y/N, Sorcerer!

Shang Tsung: You cannot stop destiny, savage!

Syzoth

Y/N: I have so much to thank you for, Syzoth.

Syzoth: It's the least I can do for all I've been complicit in.

Syzoth: Does your skin still burn, Y/N?

Y/N: Not really, but my skin has been itching and flaking like mad.

Y/N: If I had known what Shang was doing to you, Syzoth-

Syzoth: Then you probably would been given a worse fate.

Syzoth: Zikandar barely survived the Kytinn's attack, and you want to follow them to their hive???

Y/N: If my theory about Kytinn royal jelly is correct, I could finally cure Tarkat!

Y/N gives a smug grin: Think you can slip out of my constricting hold?

Syzoth grins in return: If I can slip past Shao's forces, I'll have no trouble doing the same with you.

Syzoth teasingly: I believe you and Baraka would make a tremendous mated pair.

Y/N: Th-th-that'sss very kind of you to say, Syzoth.

Syzoth: I know what you did to her wasn't an accident.

Shang Tsung: I am not as heartless as to do that to my precious flower.

Mileena

Mileena: Why did you not tell me or Mother sooner about what happened?

Y/N: By then, your mother would not hear anything I had to say.

Mileena: Don't you regret being unable to save Mother?!

Y/N: My regret haunts me no matter the hour.

Mileena with desperate hope: Are you really close to a cure???

Y/N: I'm close to a breakthrough, but I will need a legion of soldiers to collect the most important ingredient.

Y/N: You did not happen to skip your required meditative exercises to sparr with Tanya again, did you?

Mileena: And what if I did? Skipping one session won't kill me.

Y/N: If I had found a way to treat your symptoms sooner, your mother would never have welcomed Shang Tsung into her court.

Mileena: One way or another, that Snake would have found some way to slither into the court.

Y/N: For what you did for the Tarkatans, you are already proving to be a fine Empress.

Mileena: It warms my heart to hear such praise from you.

Y/N: We are both trapped in bodies not our own.

Mileena: I pray to the gods that we may one day find a cure for you as well.

Shao

Shao: I almost regret not inviting you to join my cause.

Y/N: Your father should have let you die as a child!

Y/N: Your so-called "Patriotism" is nothing but a ruse to hide your lust for power.

Shao: And here I thought you were clever as your reputation says.

Y/N: I was tempted to leave you to die of your wounds, countless times.

Shao: Hah! For a Healer you are rather callous.

Y/N: I have to say, Reiko makes a far better statue than he ever did as a soldier.

Shao: Reverse your curse, witch!

Y/N: In hindsight, it is not so ssssurprising that your pride would have you betray the Empire.

Shao: I fight against the Royal Family for the sake of Outworld!

Shao: What in the Netherrealm did you do to my troops?!?

Y/N: I simply had the wildlife you hunt around your camp eat some special shrooms.

Shao: What do you truly know of War, Little Healer?

Y/N: Enough to know every possible way the mightiest can break.

Sindel

Y/N: I cannot fathom you as some vile harpy.

Sindel: Nor I with you as a heartless mad woman.

Y/N: I have deeply missed your hanging gardens.

Sindel: Perhaps later we may visit them together for old times sake.

Y/N: I am happy to report that Mileena is improving in mind and spirit

Sindel: I hope the same could be said for her body.

Sindel hurt: Why did you not come to me after what Shang Tsung did to you?

Y/N: I feared you would turn me away like you did with Lei Mei once you saw my visage.

Sindel: Care to explain the statue that strongly resembles Reiko in the middle of my garden?

Y/N: He had it coming to him.

Sindel: I am sorry, Y/N, the answer is still no. As Empress, I can not risk catching Tarkat.

Y/N hissing: If you only ssssaw what disgraceful conditions you forced the afflicted to live with!

Sindel: I am happy you found joy as I did with Jerrod, even with his disease.

Y/N surprised: What has Mileena been telling you now?

Johnny Cage

Johnny: Seriously, what did you see in Shang Tsung?!?

Y/N, with an exasperated sigh: Only what he wanted me to see.

Johnny: You will NOT believe how much my fans ship you and Baraka.

Y/N: Ship? Do they plan on building a boat for us?

Johnny: I totally have a chance with Katana... Don't I?

Y/N: *Hisses in amusement before responding* Ahhh, you are amusing Earthrealmer but no.

Y/N: Dammit Earthrealmer! I'm a healer, not an actress!

Johnny: But you already have the part down to a T!

Y/N: I too am something of a jokester.

Johnny: Ehhh no offense beautiful, but I'm not one for your brand of dark comedy.

Y/N: Why would you show me such a film???

Johnny: I swear, I forgot that's what happened to Medusa in that scene!

Baraka: Care to explain why Y/N seemed so frightened when she returned from your abode?

Johnny: Wait, wait, wait! I can explain!

Ashrah

Y/N almost smugly: So I resemble a demon?

Ashrah: That’s not exactly a good thing, Y/N.

Y/N: Baraka asked you to do what now?!

Ashrah: I pray you can find a cure for his condition before it comes down to that.

Y/N bashfully: Wh-what has Syzoth been telling you?

Ashrah: So are you and Baraka not a couple?

Y/N: I will gladly help you put down Quan-chi, as long as you do the same with Shang Tsung.

Ashrah: Together, we will put a permanent stop to both our tormentors.

Ashrah: My kris appears rather split with you.

Y/N: Considering some of things I’ve done, that doesn’t surprise me.

Ashrah: I am grateful you support Syzoth and I.

Y/N in a happy tone: Just be aware that if you hurt him any way, you’ll be begging for death. /

Ashrah: For a healer, you’re rather…

Y/N: Violent? That's always just been me.

A/N: Don't forget to like, reblog, and comment as I love hearing from y'all! Stay weird, my fellow humans.

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