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#this could have been cute or soft of healing
dotster001 · 8 months
Note
Can I request overblot crew + malmal (idk if he's gonna be the one who does it so) w a mc who has the uncontrollable impulse to just. Touch things they deem pretty/cute/whatever? Like malmals horns, leonas ears and tail, idias hair, jamils little coin things in his hair, vils crown, etc?
Or funnier, things they're supposed to not touch bc common sense? Like the boiling hot liquid in the alchemy cauldron, the fireplace, broken glass, basically anything someone would have to rip their hands away from lol
A/N: I did a mix of things. As someone who wants to put dungeons and dragons dice right into my mouth, I had a lot of fun with this one 😂 I want to put my hands in jamil and Azul's hair so bad 😭
CW: injury in Azul and Idia's parts, self inflicted, cause obviously 😂
3k follower masterlist
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No one was allowed to touch the roses. Well, no one but you. You like to run your fingers on the petals, tracing any visible veins, touching paint spots, and booping him on the nose if the rose hasn't dried yet.
So sweet, so soft, so innocent. He only wished that…
"Fuck!"
No matter how many times he reminded you not to, you always poked the thorns.
"Y/N," he said sternly, "the entire point of thorns on roses is that they hurt.  They are intended to protect the rose!"
"But if not for touch, why touch shaped?" You pouted.
"Sorry?"
You sighed, and stared at the rose with a sharp glare, before turning back to him with a mischievous grin. 
"If I can't play with the roses, can I play with your scepter staff thing?"
He should have known. You'd been asking to "play with it" for weeks now. And every time he'd clutched it tighter, and taken a step back. He loved you! But he didn't trust whatever it was you wanted to do with his staff.
"Please, my rose?" You gently traced the collar of his dorm uniform, pressing your free hand to his chest and  giving him the sweetest puppy dog eyes.
He sighed, and placed his scepter in your hand, and was given immediate whiplash as you started swinging it through the air like a baseball bat.
"What are you doing?!?"
"Fighting crime!"
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He felt a ticklish feeling in his half awake state. Assuming it was a fly of some sort, he flicked his ears, and attempted to drift back off. But the ticklish feeling was insistent. He opened one eye to see you scratching his ears. He groaned. He should have known. This was a common occurrence.
"Oy, Herbivore!"
Your eyes widened, and flickered to his.
"Oh! You're awake!"
"Yeah, cause there's a fly buzzing by my ear."
You looked down at your hands then pulled them away.
"Oh, sorry."
You reached out to fiddle with one of his braids, your fingers doing what he could only describe as kneading the plaits.
He gripped your wrist, and pulled you down to his level, pressing you into his chest.
"If you're gonna mess with my hair, then, quid pro quo, you should expect there to be a price."
You nuzzled into his chest and nodded, your hand snaking back into his hair as he drifted off to your gentle fingers.
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This was exactly why he had the Leech twins watch you. You always complained you didn't need a babysitter, but when left to your own devices…
"As your partner, I shouldn't have to sign a contract or pay a price for a healing potion!" You cried, clutching your burnt hand.
What had you done?
You'd touched a stove seconds after the burner was turned off.
Call it stupid curiosity.
"If there's no price, how can I ensure you won't keep making these decisions!" Azul cried, finishing the final touches of the contract he was writing.
"Decision implies I thought about it. I can't stress enough that there was no thought involved."
He glared at you, before pushing the contract over to you.
"Sign it, and I'll fix your hand."
"My hand hurts too much," you whined.
"Your non-dominant hand is the one you burned. Sign it."
You looked at the fine print before grimacing.
"This says I can't touch anything if it's an impulse touch. What about you?"
"What about me?"
"That means I can't just touch your hair anymore? I can't just come up and kiss you anymore?"
Azul groaned a massaged his temples. 
"This is a punishment. You get those privileges back in two weeks. Sign the damn contract."
You intended to glare at him, but a wave of pain hit your hand and you quickly signed it in shaky script.
"There," he pulled out a potion and gently took your hand. "Hopefully you learn something."
"I probably won't," you muttered bitterly.
"I know," he lamented.
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His heart couldn't handle it. Even asking you out had nearly sent him into the recesses of his hood for eternity. 
But ever since then, whenever you got the chance, your hands were in his hair. Usually playing with the gold medallions in his hair. But if he happened to have worn his hair down that day….oh sevens.
You'd somehow snuck up on him, and snuck your way into his lap, cupping his face and running your hands through his hair.
You were technically looking at his face, but he knew you weren't actually seeing him. You were seeing his hair.
"Y/N," he muttered, feeling his face burn, "I have to finish this homework."
"Mhmm," you muttered, as dazed as if he'd charmed you.
"Y/N!" He whines, unable to stop himself from leaning into your touch, just a little.
"Mhmm," you hummed, before unexpectedly pressing his face to your chest to allow yourself more space to play with his long hair.
He thought about speaking up. But you couldn't see his increasingly flustered expression with his face pressed to your chest. And you were warm and comforting. And your hands in his hair didn't feel too bad. Maybe he could indulge. Just for a moment.
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Crash
Vil groaned, and left the bathroom he'd been doing his makeup in, watching you stare at a shattered bottle. Was it potion, perfume, or lotion? Even you probably didn't know. You just saw a shiny, pretty bottle, and had to touch.
"I'll pay for it!" You shouted, eyes wide with fear.
He sighed, flicked his pen at the broom he'd bought not long after dating you, and watched as it magically swept up the pink shards and goop on the floor.
He then half heartedly glared at you, lazily pointing his pen in your direction.
"Don't touch another one."
You aggressively nodded, and he returned to the bathroom to finish his look.
Ten minutes later, he heard it.
Crash
He covered his mouth to hide his quiet laughter. He truly couldn't leave you alone for ten minutes. It was endearing truly. He heard the broom fall as you, he assumed, hastily moved to sweep it up, and he couldn't hold back anymore, allowing himself to release a full, joyous laugh.
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"Hold that," Idia said excitedly as he passed you the scissors he'd just been using. His new game system was here! And he'd bundled it so that it came with Star Rogue 2, which had only just come out! 
He slowly pulled it out of the box, holding his breath from excitement, and,
"Fuck!" 
He turned to look at you, and your thumb was in your mouth.
"What's wrong?" 
You pulled your thumb out, showing a cut on the finger pad. 
"Ortho!" Idia called in a panic, holding your hand and staring at the cut. In his panic, he stuck your thumb in his own mouth.
"Ew, Idia," you said, face full of disgust at your boyfriend's spit on your hand.
Ortho came over before he could respond, and pulled your hand from Idia's mouth. He immediately got to work on the cut, seeming to have been aware of the problem immediately.
"How did you do this?" Idia asked, rocking back and forth to get rid of his nervous energy.
You looked up at Ortho, then back at Idia, then back to Ortho.
"I'm embarrassed to say it when Ortho is here. He'll just give me a speech."
"I only give speeches when you need them!" Ortho said defensively.
"Which is everytime," you muttered bitterly.
"Y/N, please, I'm scared. Tell me what happened!" Idia cried, beginning to pace as Ortho wrapped a bandage around your thumb.
You stared at the floor. "Well, you handed me the scissors, and I was curious how sharp they are, so…"
Idia groaned, and Ortho immediately began his speech about scissors.
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Malleus knew he was tall, especially compared to humans. So he'd never thought much about how insistently stared up at him, eyes full of expectation.
It wasn't until he watched your cat creature's eyes do the same thing as he tied a shoelace, one day, that he realized that you wanted something. And it wasn't hard to figure out what it was.
"Are you looking at my horns? If you're so curious, you can touch them freely. But only if you are ready to see what will happen afterwards."
Little did he know that he had stumbled upon a rare breed of human, one that was unafraid of him, but to an unrealistic extent.
It was visible today, while you were on a walk together, and then you stopped walking. He paused to look back at you, but it was too late. You were climbing his body like a koala, all to reach his horns.
"If you simply asked me, I would let you touch them."
"So shiny! Must touch!"
He laughed lightly as you reached his horns, and heard you attempt to knock against them. They didn't have feeling, but he could guess from previous times this had happened that you were poking the points with a finger and running your hands up and down them.
He felt a pull on his head as your lower half lost its grip, and you helplessly dangled while holding his horns.
"Oh, my silly child of man," he laughed. "What am I going to do with you?" He flicked his pen and helped you float down, then turned to you. You were sitting in the grass and pouting.
"I wasn't done," you muttered.
He knelt in the grass with you, then lay his head on your lap, laughing again as you excitedly traced his horns, allowing himself to relax under your care.
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moonstruckme · 5 months
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hi gorgeous!!
could i request poly!marauders with a reader who has been avoiding them a bit? she’ll text and call them, but not see them in person? maybe she tells them she’s really busy and they finally get her to come over or maybe catch her somewhere out n about and find her with a ~mysterious~ black eye? she finally ends up telling them abt it and she’s so embarrassed by how she’s got it and didn’t want them to fret over her? they poke fun of her a little, but it ends with hugs or cuddles on the couch?
(this is so definitely not self indulgent!! i absolutely do NOT have a black eye currently because i was wearing fluffy socks and tripped over my own foot and went flying into a doorknob!!! pfffftt, what kind of idiot would you have to be to pull that off…)
Hope the black eye you don't have is healing well babe!
cw: injury/bruise
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 984 words
“She said she was too busy to even come over for breakfast this morning,” Remus frets. “I don’t know if we should be bothering her.” 
“She’s putting too much on herself,” James says certainly, can-do attitude in place and a bag of your favorite pastries in hand. “She won’t let herself relax, and it’s our job to help with that.” Remus only chews his lip, so he looks to Sirius for backup. “Right, Pads?” 
“Sure.” Sirius shrugs. “I don’t know, I still think she’s avoiding us. Any plan that gets us to see her sounds good to me.” 
“Well, don’t talk like we’re about to bust down her door,” Remus says, rolling his eyes as they come to a stop in front of your place.
“Course not.” Sirius grins, and slams his fist extra-loud against your door to make Remus squirm. James smothers a laugh when he hears a curse from inside, the sound of something falling to the floor, and then shuffling footsteps headed in their direction. 
“Hi.” You sound surprised, half of your face visible in the crack of the door. That’s…oddly shy, for you, and the first threads of concern begin to wind their way around James’ ribcage. Has he or one of the others done something to upset you? Maybe Sirius is right, and you have been avoiding them. “What’re you guys doing here?” 
“Hi, sweetheart.” James gives you his most guileless smile, holding up the bag of pastries. “You’ve been working so hard lately, we thought we’d bring you a treat.” 
You all but melt against the doorframe, the eyebrow James can see scrunching in a cute pout. “Aw, thank you.” 
“Can we come inside for a bit?” he asks, but Sirius is already pushing at the door, nudging you out of the way as he invites himself in. 
You flinch away from the door as Sirius says, “Christ, angel, we haven’t seen you in so long I’d begun to think you were…” he trails off, and Remus and James both hurry in behind him to see why. The half of your face that had been obscured a second ago by the doorframe (intentionally obscured, James realizes now) is marred by a dark, purple-and-yellow bruise. 
Remus inhales softly, all three of your boyfriends nearly frozen in place. 
Sirius has gone tense all over, but his voice is gentle. “How’d that happen, baby?”
It doesn’t help matters that you get so clearly anxious at the question. “I—um, okay.” You look at them abashedly, shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “It’s not as bad as it looks, but you can’t get mad.” 
Sirius sucks his teeth, eyes darkening. James knows his mind is running through all the various people you could be asking them to not get mad at for doing this to you; he’s thinking along similar lines. “Why would we be mad?” Sirius asks, noncommittal.
You brush a strand of hair behind your ear, going to sit on the couch. “I, uh. I ran into the kitchen and hit myself on the cabinet door.” 
Remus hisses through his teeth. “Fuck, honey, the corner?” He sits down next to you, angling your face towards the light. “Is that where this little scrape is from?” His thumb brushes over the small cut with painful tenderness, and James watches with satisfaction as you go so soft you nearly forget to answer him. You give a nod, and Remus hums sympathetically. 
“Jesus, babe.” James leans closer to peer at it. “That’s gotta hurt.” 
Sirius pouts at you, sitting on the back of the couch. “Why would you think we’d be mad about that, darling?” 
The look you give Remus is guilty enough that he withdraws his hand, raising his eyebrows at you. 
“You know how you tell me not to run in my fuzzy socks?” you ask him. 
Remus’ lips twitch, but he narrows his eyes at you sternly. “I do.” 
You shrink away. “Well, I was sort of sliding around in those when it happened.” 
Remus rolls his eyes, but he lets his lips twist into a begrudging half-smile. “Christ. Learned your lesson now?” 
“Learned not to leave cabinet doors open when I do it,” you say, and James tugs you to his front protectively as Remus lets loose an appalled sound that’s somewhere between exhale and laugh. 
“Our poor sweetheart,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the unharmed skin beside your bruise. “I can’t believe you avoided us for days just because you didn’t want Remus to be upset with you. You’re rivaling Sirius for dramatics with that one, lovie.” 
“Oi.” Sirius jabs at your side meanly with his foot. “Don’t start taking my titles. There can only be one master of theatrics in this relationship.”
You draw your knees to your chest, entirely in James’ lap now, and he suspects you’re snuggling closer to him because you prefer his coddling to the other boys’ teasing. He’s more than happy to indulge you, brushing his lips ever so gently over the colorful skin by your eye and giving you a good squeeze with his arms around your middle. 
Sirius makes a soft pitying sound. “That really looks awful. Did you at least put ice on it?” 
You blink up at him, and James wants to chide you and smother you with love at the same time. Remus looks like he feels the same, the exasperation of his sigh diminished greatly by the fondness in his look as he gets up. “You’ve got a pack of peas in the freezer, don’t you, love?” 
You confirm, and Sirius takes Remus’ place on the couch, squinting his eyes at you playfully. “You’re not allowed to avoid us when you’ve hurt yourself ever again. Clearly, you can’t handle it on your own.” 
You seem like you could disagree, but James takes the opportunity to attack you with kisses again, and you don’t protest much after that.
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kechiwrites · 6 months
Text
gentle touch
könig x massage therapist!reader kinktober countdown day 5 (body worship)
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synopsis: oh, the military boys were your favourite.
wc: 2.8k
cw: massage therapist reader doing bad medical-ish practice, body worship, light sub!konig, mentions of edging, hand jobs, a little oral as a treat, biting, konig being petnamed as he should (honey), size kink, hints at touch starvation, groping, begging, uncut konig, afab!reader, no gendered pronouns or language.
author's note: i know his dick hex code and it's glorious. mdni.
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He’s your last appointment of the day. And what a fucking day it had been, ten hours that should’ve been eight, cinnamon scented candles instead of eucalyptus, a rushed lunch because a client had shown up early, not taking “I’m on break” for an answer.
You knock on the faux bamboo door, waiting for your appointment to allow you entry. When he does, so quietly you almost miss it, you open the door, only for your eyes to land on a broad, strong back, still wrapped in a dark grey long sleeve. He turns slightly, just enough for you to see the thin stubble on his chin, cheek and jaw.
"Hello! I didn't catch you undressing did I?" This time he turns all the way around and you are sure your swallow is audible. Hell, you hope it's audible, you want this dude to know just how impressed you are with what you're seeing.
"No." He shakes his head, rubbing his aquiline nose against the inside of his wrist. It must’ve been broken once before, if the uneven bump on his bridge is anything to go by. Why is that hot? That shouldn’t be hot. You eat up the motion, eyes tracking every twitch or movement of his massive arms.
“Oh…" you're ogling him. You need to stop ogling him. "I actually need you to strip down.” The words burn on your tongue. You must say that a thousand times a work week, but this time, when you say it to him, it sounds…dirty. Like a shitty porn set up. Makes your clean white polo feel vacuum sealed to your skin. He takes a step towards you and you shudder a breath, tensing until you realize he’s getting closer to the lockers to your left.
He’s huge, you think, and when he still doesn’t look up at you, content to let the strands of dark brown hair, nearly black hair, hang in his face, you figure he’s shy too.
Cute.
“And you can use the towel to maintain modesty, Mr. König.” You get the inflection of his name wrong, you know because you’d googled it prior, held your phone to your ear in the staff washroom and listened to a soft spoken German man lilt it to you. There’s a hard ‘g’ on the end where it shouldn’t be, and you apologize, trying again to master it. “König.”
“Right.” He murmurs, “Just around my waist, yes?”
Or it could go on the floor and I could rub my clit on your abs.
“Yes, sir. Around your waist.”
You exit the room, closing it softly behind you. You figure you’ll use the few minutes you have to get a bottle of water, or a sedative. Something strong enough to bring you back down to your customary professional detachment.
When you return, he’s where you expect him to be. Face down on his stomach, his head in the cushioned hole. “S-sorry.” He speaks, voice muffled by his position. The apology comes immediately upon the sound of the door closing and you worry his large frame has cracked the massage table or something. You peer around him, looking for any chunks of polished wood or loose screws.
When you don’t find anything you realize he’s apologizing for his scars, the pit marks of bullets dug out in haste and healed with spite, lacerations haphazardly stitched, then redone a second time with the careful, practiced hands of a doctor in no rush.
“Oh, please don’t be. We get military boys all the time. Nothing I haven’t seen before.” You murmur, and it’s a lie of course. Not that you’ve seen scars, of course, you’ve seen some really storied skin in your time here, being near a base and all. No, it was the man who was an oddity. Mandy at the front desk told you that he’d had to duck through the front door.
His skin is also ultra pale in a way military men usually aren't. Near transparent, the sprawling blue lines of his veins thread underneath his skin, and you can see yourself getting distracted tracing some of the pathways with your fingers.
He hums, and you hope you’ve put him at ease a little bit. You haven’t even touched him yet and the tension in his back is glaring. Anxious people tended to hold a lot of stress, anxious soldiers? You’re just glad he’d booked a two hour instead of the customary hour and twenty.
The oil is cold straight from the bottle and you warm it between your palms before you make contact. He’s warm to the touch, bridging on hot, and he flinches when your hands meet his skin. “Was that too cold?” He groans, but doesn’t affirm or deny it, so you figure it must just be the contact. Slowly, you begin with his calves, tending to and pushing on knotted muscle and tense areas, working out kink after kink, soothing his compounded aches. The oil smoothes down his leg hair and you must be going insane because even that is hot to you. His thighs are even worse, strong and muscled and dimpled in the sweetest places. He shivers when your palms glide over his inner thighs, and he clenches them together when your fingers brush the hem of the towel shielding his ass from your greedy view. As quickly as it happens, he relaxes, murmuring another apology. You hum your own response, and push your thumb into an adorable cluster of moles you see just under the towel.
By the time you get to his lower back, König is almost purring, his gentle breathing often interrupted by drawn out, guttural moans. Whines and whimpers that make your blood hot. He’s holding the worst of his tension there, and you have to lean almost all your body weight into the motions of the massage. His hips jerk up and then down just as sharply when you crest your palm over her shoulder blades, and you don’t imagine the keening noise he makes as he grips the massage table. You’re used to military clients being a lot more stoic but it seems Mr. König is most assuredly not the sort. You reach his neck, framing his throat with your palms and using your thumbs to rub firm circles into his nape. His breath hitches and you find yourself cooing. “Breathe for me, I got you.” The soldier’s hips snap downward again, this time hard enough to shift the table beneath him. Which is more than enough to make you pause. 
No.
It couldn’t be.
The soft music and sound of the water feature on the wall nearly drown out the curse König whispers, but you catch it, and can’t stop your lips from curling into a pleased little smile. This was just too good. You start to finish up his neck, brushing some of his hair out of the way so you can rub your fingertips into the skin just below his earlobes. You guide him to turn over and when he doesn’t respond, you wonder if he’d fallen asleep.
“Mr. König?”
He makes a wordless groaning noise low in his throat, laying motionless.
“I need you to turn over, honey.” You don’t even realize you’ve pet-named a grown man you don’t know. Which is just as well, because it seems to be what the soldier needs, and he rises from the table, clutching the towel in a tight fist to maintain his scant modesty.
You turn towards the side table, pouring more oil into your palm. When you return to face him, you witness why exactly he was so reluctant to face the ceiling.
He’s at least half-hard, a very noticeable ridge lifting his towel. You can’t stop staring at it, even though you know König is trying his best to ignore it. You circle around him, and begin at the foot of the table, going through the massage cycle again; feet, calves, thighs, arms. You zone out, following through your motions, listening to the man beneath groan and sigh his contentment. You reach his chest, spreading your hands over his pecs. They’re big, just like the rest of him, you think and it’s hard not to fucking drool on him. He’s firm but soft, still pleasantly warm, despite being exposed to slightly below room temperature air. He shifts again when you hit a stubborn knot right below his collarbone, and you pause to check in.
“Still good?”
His breathing is uneven, shuddering and laboured. His hands clench and relax from white knuckled fists.
“Yes.” he hisses through gritted teeth, and you’re worried he’s undoing every bit of relaxation you’ve tried to bring him. It’s painfully clear where the stress is coming from, hidden underneath a paltry white towel, the enticing elephant in the room. You put your hands back on him.
Still got 45 minutes left, after all.
You try your best not to look smug, and you fail miserably.
Every stroke and rub you perform across his chest makes his cock jerk and twitch under the towel. You can practically see the cloudy drops of precum that’d be beading as his tip. Your thumb nail skates across his pectoral and catches his nipple and the whine he makes is so sweet you just have to do it again. Soon, you’re barely massaging him, groping the poor man under the guise of your job. A weak grunt snaps you out of your reverie, and when you glance down his abdomen at that godforsaken towel, you can’t stop the quiet gasp of shock you release at his erection. “Ah, I’m so sorry. Very sorry” His flush spreads from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, a gorgeous stewed cherry colour that overwhelms the pale skin you’d worked into submission. His eyes are screwed shut when you can bear to drag your eyes from his cock to his face. His soft, pink mouth is pulled down at the corners, and the heavy, dark slashes of his eyebrows are furrowed together, creating a wrinkle between them you want to smooth out with a kiss.
“It happens all the time. Are you alright to continue?” Your voice is deceptively calm, serene and soft, when all you really want to do is snatch the towel off the battering ram he’d smuggled in here. Your blood thrums, and you ache at the sight of it, at the mere thought of the ungodly stretch he’d put you through.
You will yourself to keep your hands where they are, force yourself to look literally anywhere else. The faux waterfall ahead of you, the wireless speaker droning pleasant, melodic mood music, fuck, you even try staring at the dimmed light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. But every cry and whine forces your eyes down, tempts you to catalogue every inch of flushed skin and threaded muscle. You gnaw on your own lip, and find your hands drifting down, back around his abdomen. You’ve worked through the area already, there is no excuse to be down there, to slip your finger tips under the towel, to push your digits into the skin around his pelvis. “Is this okay?” You have the gall to ask, when you push your fingers lower still, and basically sign your own severance package. Oh but it’d be worth it, to get what you want, to make this big strong man sob with pleasure, to have his mouth on your throat while you stroked him to completion. The memory of his cock in your hand will keep you warm in the unemployment line.
König nods, turns his head towards you but doesn’t open his eyes. His hips cant upwards again, and his towel shifts, parting to reveal his angry, desperate hard-on. He raises a hand from the massage table, letting his mammoth paw land on your hip. He squeezes you, and exhales sharply through his nose when his thumb touches your bare skin, skating over your flesh underneath your work shirt. “Say it.” You mutter and his eyes crack open, just wide enough for you to spot the crystalline blue of his irises between his inky black lashes.
“Please.”
And that’s all you need.
He’s uncut, and the veins blanketing the length of his cock are visible under his foreskin. Pretty in a way you aren’t used to, a denser blush than the rest of his body, but still quite pale. It feels like your hand is moving in slow motion towards it, your fingers twitching in anticipation. The heat of his dick warms your skin before you even make contact, and when you do, wrapping your fingers around the root of it, your fingertips can’t touch. You press your lips together and try not to squeal happily, glee crinkling your eyes.
God is real and he’s an uncircumcised cock on a shy giant.
König’s erection is searingly hot. Soft skin and hard core, jerking in your palm, leaking steadily, nudging at your hand, insistent. Your brain is working full steam and connections necessary to utilize common sense are still not being made. Slowly, you tighten your hold on him, the weight of it is so imposing, you wouldn’t be surprised if imprints of the veiny surface were branded onto your hand once you withdrew. If you ever withdrew. You should fucking withdraw.
You do not withdraw. Instead, you slide your hand up slowly, choking up on the head of his cock before dragging your grip back down. You chance a glance up at his face, watching his Adam’s apple bob with each laboured swallow. The poor man’s jaw clenches and relaxes while you slide your palm over his flesh again and again. Somehow, he hardens further and your eyes widen impossibly larger, the pit of your stomach doing somersaults at the idea of where you want that thing to go, what you want it to do. You get fevered flashes of König bending you over the massage table in your mind, hands on your hips, rutting without sense or logic into you, so hard the surface scrapes against the floor, all while he sobs, his overwhelmed, overstimulated tears splashing against your back while he rearranged your insides. The head of his cock is exposed every time you slide your hand down towards his pelvis. By the third peek, you’re dragging the pointed end of your tongue over the tip of his dick, licking against his head, and coating your mouth with the taste of him. He grips at your side harder, his fingers digging into your hip as he chases the warmth of your mouth. He keens loud, almost mewling when you pull off him, using your spit to ease your hand’s path. By this point, your handiwork is audible, noisy and wet, König’s voice filling the small room. You use your free hand to guide his head to your chest, letting him bend toward you, press his nose into your tits while he begs for you to finish him.
“Are you gonna come, Mr. König?” You thread your fingers in his hair, letting your nails scratch against his scalp, drift down to his nape and up to his crown again.
“Yes, please, please. Fuck.” His voice is reedy and thin, and he wraps his arm around your waist, burying his face deeper in your chest. And then his whole body trembles, and his hips roll towards you, and for a fleeting minute you consider edging the poor bastard, sliding your hand completely off his cock and watching it twitch violently, uselessly in the air.
But he begs so sweetly. And his next session was already pre-booked.
The hand you kept on his head leaves his hair, and you rub the head of his cock with your flat open palm, jerking him off with firm, fast strokes. He bites down on the curve of your breast, and you’re grateful he still managed to retain enough brain cells to not break skin.
“Do it then. Come, honey.” You trill, feeling his tears wet your skin through your shirt. It’s almost instantaneous, so fast it’s kind of impressive. His body goes bowstring-tight, and he squeezes you so hard it almost hurts. Ropes of sticky white seed shoot from his cock, covering your hand and his spasming abdomen. You slide your hand up, milking just the first two inches of him through his orgasm, until he stops your movements himself, covering your hand with his own.
When you finally break contact, you stare at your hand for what feels like ages, thick beads of his cum rolling down your palm, sliding to your wrist. You extricate yourself from his hold, using your clean hand to brush his sweat damp hair from his forehead. You press that kiss you wanted to the space between his brows. Why start restraining yourself now? His body shivers periodically, and you turn to the sink, to wash your hands clean, clenching your own thighs together, his moans and sighs echoing in your mind. You turn to face him, grinning wide and cheery,
“So...I’ll see you next week?”
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hoe, you are getting fired! at least you got a man outta it though.
support city girls who love gummy worms, reblog what you like.
find the rest of the masterlist here.
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satoruhour · 7 months
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a/n: i need college / uni bf!geto rn bc my hands hurt :( newly established relationship <3 0.9k, rich kid!suguru i guess? / tagging @crysugu @na-t0 @papersirens @hydrovillette
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“didn’t i tell you not to go so hard on your essay?” geto gives you a small smile, countered by your cute pout in the dark room of your dorm. the way he lectures is gentle, having no bite to it because how would he ever dare to sink his teeth into something as sweet as you? he knows if he does, however, he just might become addicted to you. it’s clear already how the teeth is breaking skin and drawing blood just by the items in the room:
both your faces are illuminated by the fairy lights you begged suguru to buy — he gives in and buys it for you as always. it’s shown in the starbucks mug that cost ¥3300, the sanrio themed bed sheets that you’re now sitting on, the convenience store onigiris for you to store in your fridge.
“was rushin’ it before 2359, su, you know that…” you mumble more to yourself than your boyfriend, who’s staring at you as your eyes droop sheepishly to your connected hands. it’s not wrong that you could’ve started writing this essay a little earlier, cited your sources a little earlier, but you still managed to do it; at the expense of your hands. they ached and throbbed from the position they were in for the past few hours — at least you still had managed to submit it with two minutes to spare.
“but not to the point where your hands turn sore, my darling.” geto brings your hands to his lips to kiss, like the little gesture of love could magically heal you. it feels like it does. the tenderness of his touch, the roughness of his finger pads against your smoother skin, the thoughtfulness itself. you grunt a little in pain when suguru starts to massage the palm, digging his thumb in and dragging it up and down. he squeezes your hands, giving each finger its attention, wiggling the hands to loosen your muscles.
“you know,” you hum in response and look up from your flustered state to find him already staring at you, “my mom used to do this for me.”
“yeah?” you whisper, heart pounding in your ears. two and a half months in and geto suguru was already treating you like treasure, not at all what they say he is: conceited of his intelligence, rude, a know-it-all rich kid. sure, he was smart, he was rich, but he made it clear he had no interest in the industrial, business side of the family. geto was generally open about his past, his parents leaving the toxic world and giving their son an upbringing filled with unconditional love and openness. but people usually liked the juicier gossip; none of them had bothered to know geto for who he was.
“yeah.” geto brings you in via your hands, lips colliding clumsily against yours from the force and you both laugh softly, “said its been passed down in her family for the longest time.”
“it’s helping… a little,” you giggle, eyes memorising his eyes shone under fluorescent.
“is it now?” the warmth of his hand leave yours for a moment to tilt your head up, catching your lips properly this time as he moves slow. suguru takes his time with you, moving against you as his other hand still continues to massage. that was one thing he was good at too, multitasking; he plays with your hand, travelling over your fingers and stroking over each section and its nail bed and then pulling away teasingly while he continues to hypnotise you into a dance. you hear him hum into the kiss, exhaling through his nose as he now interlocks both hands.
“focus on the squeezes, baby,” geto suguru drives you insane, in that little silky voice of his and the slight lilt in his voice. you let him lead you, feeling the soft pressure of his hand as he brings them above your heads and leans forward. you make a small surprised sound as he brings you right down to lay flat on the bed, hovering over you whilst still giving those periodic squeezes, entirely at his mercy as his lips never stop. they come off to breathe for some air and you’re the same, flushed cheeks and swollen lips and geto lets out a shaky breath.
it’s only then when he lets go, caught in your trance. easily, he tugs you into his lap as he lays down, not sure if he could uphold his obsession if he was on top.
“is this really part of the massage process?” you ask, legs naturally going to either side of his hips as you lay on his chest. you smile to yourself when you realise how fast his heart’s beating. off to the side, geto finds your hand again: him with his left and you with your right and you tangle into each other with the choreography of a million sprouts in the wind. finger into finger and palm against palm.
“hmm…” geto feigns confusion, prompting you to turn your head towards him. you grin seeing his red cheeks, “nah, just deviating a little from the family recipe… is it working?”
“it was earlier but now? oh, no, not really.” geto’s eyes flutter close when you move forward just a bit to peck his lips. you twine your fingers with his; you’re getting good at this multitasking thing. “but wherever you are, i will always feel much better than i was.”
“good.” suguru mumbles with a lovesick smile, and he gives your connected hands a squeeze and a grin threatens to spread across his face when you squeeze back just as hard, “that’s… really good.”
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celestialowlbear · 3 months
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𖤣.𖥧 Flowers for You 𖥧.𖤣
Pairing: Halsin x Reader / Tav
Summary: Halsin admits his feelings for you.
Warnings: Fluff. Kissing. Yearning. Admission of feelings. Sex is implied but not described, so 18+ just to be safe.
WC: 1700
A/N: This fic is inspired by the amazingly sweet artwork by @pani-artz found here! Please give your love and check out their other art. 💕
This one got away from me a bit, but I’ve been obsessed with the idea of Halsin in bear form giving Tav flowers and obsessed with this art! Just a cute little cheesy feelings admission fic for ya’ll. I hope you enjoy! 🥹
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𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘
You let out a long sigh, your eyes tired from studying the map. You were trying to figure out the shortest path to a village over a mountain pass, but the surrounding craggy terrain was making it difficult.
You stepped away from camp for some peace to ponder the routes. Everyone was vocal about their opinion on the fastest way, through varying levels of danger and difficulty, and it seemed like the discussion wasn’t going to end anytime soon.
The bickering began to give you a headache, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to make a clear decision while frustrated.
You rested your head against the tree you were sitting up against, pondering the options and trying to figure out how to get everyone to agree on which way to proceed.
You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the tranquility of the woods around you, hoping it would ease your mind.
You honed in on birds chirping and flitting between branches. A stream trickled nearby, crystal water pouring over glossy stones. The scent of wildflowers and grasses tickled your nose.
Your heartbeat slowed, your mind clearing.
Your eyelids felt heavier, your body relaxing into the soft earth beneath you, the smooth bark of the tree cool against your back.
You unwound further, the tension in your head leaving. Your thoughts began to wander, fantasizing of a comfortable bed and hot bath.
You imagined sinking into warm water, your aching muscles needing the relief.
A pair of large hands slide over your shoulders, beginning to knead the stress away. A low whisper at your ear, lips at your neck, the hands moving lower to caress you.
Someone else is in this bath with you, and the person takes the form of Halsin. He’s there, his golden hair down and wet, holding you close to him, kissing you with passion and urgency. Your hands wander over the broad expanse of his chest, memorizing every scar.
This exact fantasy plays in your head every night as you lay in your tent. You’ve been trying to keep these feelings at bay, but it was getting more and more difficult as the days passed. You were falling for the kind druid. How could you not?
You haven’t felt this way in a long, long time. These feelings don’t come easy to you, but somehow everything was easy with Halsin.
He was always so thoughtful, so understanding. He doesn’t hesitate to heal you, check you over for wounds. You often spoke late into the night, talking of past adventures like you have been friends for centuries.
You couldn’t help but think, or hope, that he felt the same about you. You have been hesitant to make the first move, not wanting to make a fool of yourself. You have resided yourself to fantasies, at least for now.
Heavy footsteps startled you out of your daydream. You froze, eyes snapping open, lumbering steps drawing closer.
You peeked over the map, scanning the forest around you. Twigs cracked and bushes rustled as something large made its way toward you.
You slowly reached to your side where your dagger was sheathed, staying completely still otherwise, holding the map up with your other hand.
A massive bear head emerged from the brush, golden eyes immediately locking with yours.
Adrenaline pumped through your veins, gripping your dagger, sweat beading at your forehead. If you stood still, maybe it wouldn’t perceive you as a threat. You swallowed, waiting for the bear to move first.
The bear stared right at you, and a familiar deep, rumbling grunt of your name came from the bear’s mouth.
You blinked a few times. Did you just hear your name?
Halsin.
It was Halsin.
You couldn’t help but let out a relieved laugh, slumping back against the tree.
“Halsin!”
You released your dagger, setting the map down next to you. “You startled me!”
“I apologize, it was not my intention to alarm you. I often forget this form can be intimidating.”
Halsin’s deep timbre floated through the air, resonating in your head.
The adrenaline left your body as Halsin lumbered fully into the clearing.
“Don’t apologize, I was lost in my thoughts. The quarreling in camp was beginning to give me a headache.”
Halsin made a huff that sounded like a chuckle if a bear could do such a thing.
“That is exactly why I went roaming, myself. The wind, the trees, and the birds all offer cures that medicines or other concoctions cannot. Only out here can you achieve pure harmony and clear one’s mind.”
You always loved the way Halsin waxed poetic about nature. While others may scoff, you listened and agreed wholeheartedly. You admired his passion.
Halsin shifted on his massive paws.
“I also wanted to make sure you were faring well. You left camp abruptly. I followed your tracks.”
You felt a flush of embarrassment, realizing you may have stormed off a little more dramatically than you thought.
Also, Halsin was following you?
“I don’t mean to intrude on your solitude but…”
Halsin tilted his massive head back, motioning to a bush behind him.
“I was foraging for medicinal herbs to resupply my stock and found something I hope you’ll enjoy.”
Halsin turned away from you momentarily.
You sat forward, wondering what he was doing.
He bent his head below the bush, turning back around to face you.
In his mouth was a bundle of wildflowers in different colors and variety. Each was different and vibrant in its own right.
Heat crept up your neck, blushing your cheeks.
Halsin took a few large steps toward you, placing them gently at your feet.
“These are…for me?” You questioned, hoping you weren’t misinterpreting this gesture.
Your vision flitted from the flowers to him. You were always in awe when he was in wild shape, witnessing how he harnessed the power of nature and extended his strength into a physical embodiment of it.
Though he was a beast, when you looked into his eyes, it was still him.
His gaze softened as he nodded, watching you gently pick up the bundle, admiring the gorgeous assortment.
“These flowers produce a calming tea when dried and prepared correctly. It is a favorite recipe of mine, one that I tend to make for myself when I’m feeling overwhelmed. I hope I could show you how to prepare it. Also…”
Halsin paused, something tender flashing in his ursine eyes.
“Their exquisite beauty reminded me of you.”
Your heart leaped in your chest at his bold admission.
You smiled, your headache now long gone. “You…really think that of me?”
You’ve spent so long fighting, beautiful is not something you’ve thought of yourself in some time. Hearing Halsin say it with such sincerity stirred your heart in a way you haven’t felt before.
Halsin took a few steps back from you, his stare not leaving yours.
“The most brilliant of sunrises or the most magnificent hues of a sunset do not compare to you.”
Suddenly, leaves whipped around, and Halsin’s bear form was bathed in golden light. You watched as he transformed, slowly standing upright as the fur fell away and revealed the man underneath.
He held out a large hand down toward you, offering to help you up.
You took his hand, calloused and warm, and he pulled you up with ease.
“Halsin…” you started, your heart feeling as if it might burst out of your chest at his heartfelt words.
“I cannot lie to you. I wish to spend more time with you and see no better time to start than now. Your friendship means a great deal to me, but I long for more. I could not wait longer to tell you.”
Halsin’s hand squeezed yours lightly.
“I believe you do as well. Unless I am misguided. Tell me now, and I will step away.”
Halsin was not a daft man. He catches your stares or the way your cheeks bloom a deeper color when he speaks to you. He notices how you stand closely to him on the battlefield, often putting yourself in harm’s way to protect him without a second thought.
You were unlike anyone or anything he’d experienced in his long life. You were everything to him. He finally felt like he was in the right headspace to admit it, and give you his full attention and heart if you’d want it.
He knew you had your burdens, though. The tadpole in your brain, trying to be the leader that everyone needs, trying to solve every problem and save every person. He would understand if you said no, and would continue to stand by your side as a friend.
Halsin was gazing at you with so much admiration, that you felt as if you were floating. You picked up a hint of hesitancy, as well.
The large man was putting his heart on his sleeve, the flowers representing the start of something beautiful and new in chaos, and it was up to you to accept it.
“Yes.” You whispered, “I want that and so much more. You are not misguided.”
A large smile graced his features, his eyes shining.
Halsin leaned down, lightly touching his forehead against yours, bringing your hand to his chest, and you could feel the fast thrumming of his heart under your fingertips.
“I am happy to hear it.” He whispered, his lips close to yours.
Halsin let out a soft sigh, bringing his free hand to cup the side of your face.
“I have been wanting to express my feelings to you for a long time.” His voice was low. “May I kiss you?”
You nodded, squeezing the stems of flowers in your one hand, while your other was still enveloped in his against his chest.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Please.”
The words barely left your mouth as his lips captured yours, fervent and passionate, better than any dream.
His lips were soft and purposeful, both of you pouring your long-held emotions into the dance of your lips.
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, you both pulled away for a much-needed breath.
“So many nights I laid awake, desperate to feel your lips on mine, dreaming of how you’d taste and feel…none of those fantasies were even close to the real thing.”
“How many nights did you dream of me?” You asked, leaning your head against his chest.
“Since we first met.”
“I admit I dreamt the same of you, Halsin.”
Halsin laughed, a pleasant rumbling in his chest.
You looked up at him, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Well then, my flower, we must make up for all the lost time.”
Before you could answer, Halsin scooped you up in his arms bridal-style, silencing your surprised squeak with his lips, more hungry than before.
“What about making the tea?” You gasped between his kisses, wrapping your arms around his neck for purchase.
“When we are done, we can brew it and enjoy it under the stars. Though, by the time we are finished, the sun may just be rising.”
Your body ignited with his words, feeling him smile against your lips as you kissed him with urgency, suddenly needing to feel your entire body against his, needing to feel every part of him.
You knew he felt the same, and he kneeled to lay you on the soft grass, caging you in between his thick biceps.
As his body pressed to yours, your worries and frustrations melted away with every touch and pass of his lips and fingers and sultry praise of your magnificence.
Halsin was true to his word, you explored and worshipied one another until the stars began to fade and a new day was rising, ready to face the world stronger together.
-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-
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homeslices · 3 months
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Euphoria (Azriel x pregnant!reader part one)
Summary: You and Azriel find out you’re pregnant.
A/N: Thought his idea was cute and I’m thinking about making this an entire series of dad!Azriel. Also I’m sorry if this isn’t good, it’s my first time writing anything for acotar, but I do really like it so I plan on writing more in the future.
Pairings: Azriel x pregnant!Reader
Warnings: suggests smut, slight angst about not being able to conceive a baby (fluff to make up)
Word Count: 1.0k
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Azriel and you had been trying to have a babe for a while. While the only people in the Inner Circle who had a child was Rhys and Feyre, you have been mated for hundreds of years and were beyond ready. 
Having children was something you had to have many lengthy discussions about first. Azriel’s trauma with his family as a child and your own trauma being an Illyrian women whose wings got clipped before being cast out of your home only too be found and taken in by Rhys’s his mother, were all things you both had to think about before even considering bringing a babe in this world. That’s not even mentioning the war you and all of your loved ones fought in and somehow survived. However, seeing Feyre and Rhy being amazing parents to their son, and just seeing Nyx in general, has confirmed what you both have wanted for a while. 
But, as much as you both wanted a child, it just did not happen. It’s been years since you started trying, and as much as you love to be with Azriel intimately, it started to feel more like a task rather than something fun. There have been a few nights that Azriel has woken up because you forgot to close the bond and was flooded with your feelings of self-loathing. All he could do was cup your tearstained face and whisper reassuring and loving words to you. You blamed yourself and as much as Azriel denied it, those thoughts just didn’t go away.
After the third night of that happening, both you and Azriel decided to just stop trying. Of course you both would continue to not take the tonic, but your goal while being intimate was no longer having a baby, it was to enjoy each other. After a time, sex was pleasurable again, your mindset improved, and while you did have moments of self doubt, Azriel was always there for you as you were for him. Similarly, your family was amazing the entire time. While Azriel and you were fairly private about the situation, you didn’t hide what was going on with them. Their support helped you heal, both of you. It’s been a few years since then, Nyx was now six and it is true that time heals all wounds. 
Azriel was the one who noticed it first. The sun was starting to rise, light beginning to stream through the window of Azriel and your shared bedroom. It was one of those rare occasions that neither of you had to go anywhere that morning, however, Azriel was so used to being up before the sun that he was already awake. Your face was peaceful as you slept, your bare figure tangled in the sheets, and the only noise heard was your soft breathing. His hazel eyes watched your calm face, all the while having his shadows watch both of your surroundings. Weirdly enough, his shadows also kept brushing over you, almost like they were scared to let you out of their grip. It reminded him of when you first mated, at least one of his shadows had to be with you at all times once both of you got out of the frenzy.
There was something different, something unusual that Azriel could sense that made him feel uneasy, but not on edge. It bothered him, however, as your eyes fluttered open and you shifted your body to face your mate, it hit him. Well, your scent hit him. Before, the room smelled of the previous night’s activities, but with your change in position, he could now make out that your scent has changed. It was subtle, but the slight sweetness in the air was all that was needed to figure out what was so strange. 
Azriel’s face was the first thing you saw as you woke up. Despite being able to mask how he’s feeling extremely well, his slightly widened eyes, along with the millions of thoughts running rampant behind them, were all telltale signs that he was in shock. 
You hum curiously before speaking.
“What is it?” you question while reaching up to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb along his cheek. You could feel the coolness of his shadows brushing all over your body, it was comforting yet slightly unusual to wake up to. 
“You're pregnant.” 
Sitting up suddenly, as if a bucket of ice water had been spilt on you, you look at him bewildered.
“I’m sorry, what?” 
A grin filled with pure joy took over his face as he answered you once again. 
“You’re pregnant.”
All you could feel was disbelief and elation. You could now tell that your scent was different and all you could do was look at your husband, your mate, incredulously. His deep laugh fills the room, only further showing his happiness. You beam at him as he lifts you in his arms and settles you on his lap. His bare skin felt warm against yours, and the chill that continued to brush over you from the shadows felt perfect against you. The only time you’ve felt this overjoyed was when you found out you were mated to Azriel. You brush your lips against his as he cups your face, brushing away the tears you didn’t know were falling. 
You knew things were going to change from that point on. You knew how male got when their mate was pregnant, how protective they became. You saw first hand when Feyre was pregnant with Nyx, she could never move more than a few feet away before Rhys was next to her once again, and if a stranger came up to her, everyone could feel the power he unleashed to get them away. Rhys had mentioned it was similar to how males are after first being mated, but also said that that is nothing compared to how protective he felt of his mate carrying his child. 
You knew that this was only the beginning of troubles you would face. But at this point in time, wrapped in one another’s embrace, tenderly kissing tears of joy off each other's face while the morning light poured in, all you could feel was euphoria. 
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dr3c0mix · 9 months
Note
Hello, I'm the person who requested the yandere orc and I just wanted to say I loved it! At the end of that request I said I would ask for minotaur if you didn't do orc. But I still want to request yandere minotaur because I am a big fan of how you write yandere stuff. So can you please write yandere minotaur x reader.
(I would like it if the minotaur was just a hunk of muscle that no one would dare mess with, but becomes putty for reader. If you have another idea, use it!)
Flowers For My Cleric
Yandere! Minotaur x GN Reader
🌾 Ashvan was a part of a clan of warriors, ones that are feared and respected for their strength and brutality throughout the land.
🌾 He's seen fighters of all kinds from the biggest orcs and golitaths to the smallest goblins and kobalts. He's seen almost everything and everyone on the battlefield.
🌾 But nothing prepared him for you.
🌾 You looked so small and soft compared to everyone else. So out of place from the rough and tough warriors with bodies decorated in scars and tattoos.
🌾 It was during a welcoming feast that he first met you. You were the newest member of the clan and everyone welcomed you warmly.
🌾 He asked one of his close friends what your deal was and he learned that you were supposed to be their healer.
🌾 Vibrant music played in the tavern, but all he could see and hear was you and your adorable little laugh.
🌾 Your smile shined like the sun and your movements were so graceful and soft.
🌾 You went around meeting everyone, occasionally healing a fresh wound or two until he came face to face with you in all your glory.
🌾 "H-hi.."
🌾 "Hi!.."
🌾 He's almost crumbling at the sight of you. It's the first time he's ever been nervous.
🌾 Never before has he felt such a feeling, not even when he was facing the deadliest foes. How is a big and tough minotaur like himself shaking at the feet of such a gentle creature?
🌾 You start to laugh awkwardly the more he just kept staring at you. You pat his arm comfortingly before moving on to greet the rest of the clan.
🌾 It felt as if he was touched with the finest silk!
🌾 You'd run into him quite often while in the clan. You'd see him laughing with his friends with confidence and pride in his walk, but the moment you say hello, he'd be reduced to a stuttering babbling mess trying to say hi back. His friends would have to bring him away from you so he won't embarrass himself further.
🌾 "O-oh! Hello cleric! W-we were just uh..going to spar, you can join us if you want..b-but you don't have to! I mean you're probably busy but I would love to have you there..n-not to spar though! I mean you can..but you can watch..I-I'm not calling you weak or anything! You probably can take care of yourself pretty well, b-but if you ever need anyone to protect you, you know..o-only if you want to-"
🌾 He follows you around sometimes, pretending to be doing something else like carrying around some supplies or sharpening his weapon. When you turn away, he would have a lovesick smile on his face.
🌾 If you catch him staring, he'd panic and try to hide behind a barrel or crate, doesn't really help that he's a large minotaur. You'd giggle at the sight of a tall and fearsome creature hiding from you as best as he could with his tail and horns peeking through the crate.
🌾 "M-me? Hiding? Noooo! I-I don't need to hide! I-I'm a warrior!..heheh.."
🌾 His friends would try to help him out, telling him advice that may or may not work. I don't think gifting your crush the head of your enemies is pretty romantic though...
🌾 You would be fixing up your medical supplies when you feel a tap on your shoulder, you turn around and Ashvan would be towering above you, shakily offering you a small, sort of roughed up bouquet of wild flowers in his large cloven hand.
🌾 Some of the stems look a bit bent and most of their petals have fallen off, but it's cute either way.
🌾 "C-Cleric! I uhm...found these uhm..flowers and uh..thought of you!..Well they're small and cute..n-not saying you're small! I-I mean you are because I'm bigger and stuff and uhm...j-just take them.."
🌾 You giggle and thank him, taking the flowers from him. He huffs out from his snout as your hands touch. As you take the flowers from him, he grunts, nodding as he awkwardly walks away.
🌾 As soon as he's out of sight, he's giggling like a little schoolgirl at the thought of you liking his gift, he's going off to get more flowers for you if you don't mind.
🌾 He might confuse normal plants he finds cute as flowers, so you now have a vase full of yellow wheat he got from a field one day.
🌾 The first time he was sent to be healed by you was like being in heaven. He watched you closely as you gently healed the gash on his chest as if it was a seam on a fabric.
🌾 He took the time to study your face, how you stuck your tongue out or pursed your lips when you concentrate, or the way you ghost your delicate fingers over his rough skin, it took a lot not to get a boner as you touched his chest.
🌾 "You're uhm...very good with your hands! hahah.."
🌾 He's not stranger to being a creep, this big bull man would sneak into the bathing rooms and spy on you as you wash yourself. Hiding behind a corner as he touched himself to you running your hands down your soft skin, how he wished that was him touching you right now.
🌾 Yes he steals your clothes, and its ok because you have more anyway that he'll also eventually steal...
🌾 He would get hurt on purpose to see you again and be touched by you, going to bed that night and masturbating to thoughts of you treating him other ways~
🌾 But for now, he's just a shy and nervous bull man who adores you from far away <3
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doki-doki-imagines · 4 months
Note
Happy new Year! I wanted to request an Reader with healing powers by touching,healing the boys of Mortal Kombat pls?
author note: Thanks! Happy new Year to you too!! As someone studying to become a doctor this request is a little to perfect LOL. feat. Earthrealm guys for my own sanity this time, but if you want you can also ask for Outworld ones.
Johnny Cage: -He doesn't believe in your powers AT ALL. -I'm not saying Johnny can't wait to hurt himself, because pain sucks, but he may get a bit careless… -He's gonna cut his finger with paper, the most stupid wound that sting like a bitch. -He visits you, you don't laugh at him, just touch his index with yours and…voilà! No wounds anymore. -He is stunned, mouth open. You absolutely need to come to Hollywood and let people pay, you know how rich you can get?? -Johnny will be attached to your hips, wounds or not. If he can't get you out your clinic he wants at least a date with the cute doctor.
Kenshi Takahashi: -He visited you after the Mileena accident. -Sadly you can't regrow new eyes, being able to heal just from tissue that is alive. -That doesn't mean you can't help him soothing his pain! Or decrease the itch he feels from the skin that grew there. -Kenshi visits you frequently, not just for medical reasons but also to share a cup of tea together, your chats a relaxing moment during frenzy times.
Raiden: -He doesn't visit you often, but when Raiden does he has a kind voice, even with broken bones and teared skin. -Luckily most of the time Raiden wounds aren't that serious, but he tends to prolong his stay in your clinic. -At times he felt asleep on the bed, heavy breath and some times snores. -He is so cute you never wake him up, but pulling a cover on his body to keep him warm and comfortable.
Kung Lao: -He has never been proud of the wounds and scar that he has, but at least now Lao can see the positive side of the bruises; visiting you. -You don't say he is dumb, and treats him with utmost care, your soft fingers on his skin make his heartrate speed up terribly. -Lao hopes you don't notice, hiding his real emotions under puns and flirty jokes. -You can totally feel Lao's heart, but find him cute, trying to sputter out puns to make you laugh, so you let him act.
Liu Kang: -He asked you to help at Wu Shi Academy because he knew about your powers. -Liu Kang made sure you had a tiny house of your own, separated from training grounds, but near enough to run to you in case of emergency. -He doesn't suffer of any injury, but he often visits you to ask if you are fine, just chit chatting about your days. -Every time Liu Kang visits you he brings a present, each time it gets more expensive. Maybe one day you'll pick up the signals, or maybe you could heal his broken courage; it has been awhile since Liu Kang asked someone out.
Geras: -He also doesn't need any kind of healing, but when someone is wounded he runs to you. -Most of the time you talk about work, you tried to pry informations about the you of other timelines but Geras never budges. -So you started to gossip with him, useless stuff, but you know he'll never tell the secrets out. -He listens to you, already knowing everything, but Geras enjoys your company so he sits still, your voice almost lulling him.
Bi-Han: -Doesn't trust you, he has never heard of healing magic. -But there you are, on your knees, him laying on the ground, your fingers repairing every cut, every wounds on his body with a mere touch. -Bi-Han starts to visit you more often, he wants to know your secret, the Lin Kuei's doctors could only improve with your guide. -You laugh at his proposal, telling him this is a gift you have since you were born and that you prefer your magic to be of everyone usage, not only his ninjas. -He scowls and exits your house. But Bi-Han won't give up, he'll convince you one day, he is sure of it.
Kuai Liang: -He doesn't have the time to have doubts about your powers because the first time Liang heard of you is the time you are healing him. -Now it is too late to heal his face scar, but for sure you can help him with his other wounds. -Liang begs you to join Shirai Ryu, but you refuse "You are good people, but my power is for everybody, not just your clan." -He accepts it…and trasfer Shirai Ryu base near your house, enough that if his men needs help you'll be right there. -And maybe Liang would be able to visit you not only for work matters…
Tomas Vrbada: -He visits you mostly because everybody is talking about your powers. -Tomas brings food, while you prepare a hot beverage for you two. You chat about your days, 'till Tomas finally asks you the question that has been wandering in his head for too long. -"So, are your powers real?" -You smirk into the cup, but don't reply. You take a knife and do a small cut on the back of your hand, you are so fast that Tomas cannot stop you. -He cannot also because the moment a drop of blood spill the wound has already healed itself. -Tomas is astonished, wide eyes. -"You are so damn cool." -You hope he'll visit you more often, you enjoys his company. Let's hope Tomas will never come for working matters, tho.
939 notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 9 months
Note
Hi!!! I really love your writing 🥺 Idk how this works so Idk if my request is alright so If it's ok for you to write it, I got this idea about Spencer turning into a player/manwhore after maeve died so he's not into y/n in the beginning but the others always joke about how she's totally in love with him and he doesn't believe until he starts to notice little things she does for him(like getting him coffee every morning, remembering everything he says) so he start to fall for her. Genre: smut with soft!Dom Spencer, dirty talk, degradation(please no daddy kink) (Sorry if it's to long, I read it's best for you if we give as much detail as possible so that's that) I'm going to identify myself with this emoji 🥺 when I read the fic or in my next requests, hope I gave you something to write with.
A/N: Thank you for the request and omg this plot has given me brain rot since you sent it in 💀 I accidentally made this a little angst-heavy for the first half but there's a very "happy ending" if you catch my drift. I hope you love it! ❤️
Summary: Spencer Reid's heart is broken. But in healing himself in the arms of countless woman, he doesn't realise he's breaking yours.
Word count: 4.6k
Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, angst, oral (F receiving), fingering, P in V penetration, dirty talk, degradation of you squint a little, soft!Dom Spencer is incredibly soft.
My masterlist with all my other works is here, and my requests are open!
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It had taken four whole months before someone on the team had confronted Spencer about his grief, his lack of sleep, his overall dreariness, and they were almost shocked that it wasn’t you that did it. When Rossi had walked up to him, offering a story about his Uncle Sal in an attempt to get him to open up, or at least seek help, the others were on the other side of the glass, shooting looks over at you, quietly enquiring with their eyes about why it hadn’’t been you to offer him that out.
But you had, you’d been trying. You’d been following him around, taking him food every couple days to make sure he was eating, sticking around to make sure that he wasn’t lonely. You’d even cleaned up after him on the particularly hard days, where he didn’t want to move from his bed and couldn’t bring himself to go outside if there was no work, no one else to save. But you couldn’t offer him more, because he already had all of you.
You’d first realised that you were in love with Spencer Reid a few months after you’d joined the team. You’d been bought on as a fresh set of eyes on a case that had a lot more to do with you then the rest of the team had been led to believe.
Your high school boyfriend had been the victim of a notorious highway murderer, and you yourself had been kidnapped by the unsub, put in hell for the following three days and escaped with your life only because of an earlier BAU team, including agents Hotchner and Rossi. When bodies had started turning up on the same stretch of highway, you needed to be involved or you’d never prove to yourself that you could do what they did to save you. That you’d be able to put your feelings aside and catch monsters.
You’d found the man responsible of course, and in restraining yourself from putting a bullet in his brain, you’d found yourself a place on the team, and some peace for a time. And then Spencer happened.
You really should have known. You were always fond of the nerdy type, of men who had such deep interests that they forgot to pay attention to social queues, who had too many cute habits (like purposefully mismatching socks) that you couldn’t help but find endearing. You’d grown close quickly, with the man grateful that there was finally someone to listen to him ramble and not judge him, and you grateful that he also held himself back enough, listened closely and well to remember so many details about your conversations. You knew an eidetic memory helped, but it was the care in the small actions, like buying you the beanie baby you lost as a child but still mourned, that you’d mentioned in conversation a grand total of one time, that really solidly made you realise. You were in love with him and had dug yourself a hole that you weren’t going to be able to climb out of anytime soon.
You’d almost told him once. Convinced that if you just explained your feelings, he’d suddenly feel the same or realise that he felt the same way, too. You’d opened your mouth to let the words run freely, but he beat you to it.
“I’ve met someone, and she’s totally brilliant and I think I might love her, and that must be an insane thing to say considering I’ve never even seen her face.” You’d willed the broken pieces of your heart together as you forced a smile on your face, ready to listen to the man who owned your heart smile for another, live for another, breath for another.
When Maeve had ultimately passed away, you knew that you’d never be able to say those words to him. You weren’t going to be the replacement for a dead woman, and you weren’t going to push those feelings on him when he was grieving. But you loved him and he needed you, so you stayed.
On the nights where he was so angry with the world that his words were biting, on the days where he said almost nothing so trapped inside his brain, in the hours between dusk and dawn where there was no rest for him, wiping away the tears that fell silently and just being as near to him as he needed.
You had some experience in broken hearts, anyways. You might as well put it to good use.
–X–
It had taken five whole months since Maeve’s death for the team to realise that Spencer was changing. He was still the same person intrinsically, ready to spring into a conversation about absolutely anything and everything that interested him at the drop of a hat, still debating with Penelope about which of them was smarter, still being teased in that playful way by Morgan. But there was a confidence to him now that was almost dangerous in the fact that it was uncharted territory for him.
You’d noticed it first on one of your regular coffee runs. The two of your were so serious about your coffee tasting like anything but actual coffee that you’d bonded over the need for a sweet treat, and had been going for coffee before all of your office shifts almost since you’d started. You were glad to have him finally back by your side, making stupid jokes about how many philosophers it would take to change a lightbulb, and actually smiling and laughing with you that you almost didn’t notice anything amiss.
But when the barista who took his order carefully slipped him her number - something she’d been doing for the whole six months you’d been frequenting that cafe - for once, he hadn’t thrown it away. He’d taken a lingering look at the digits inked neatly into the napkin and quietly slipped it into his pocket. You were confused to say the least, but since that night of your almost confession, there had been a boundary between you two in that sense.
It was almost as if, if you didn’t ask questions about Spencer’s love life, it was like he wasn’t out there, being in love. With Maeve it had worked fine because he’d never met her, and honestly, until you’d started trying to save her he hadn’t brought her up a lot. But now, you were too afraid to break your own heart again to check up on him, deciding to let it go for your own well-being.
The others had noticed soon enough. Comments about a pep in his step, his flirtacious manner with some of the female witnesses. He’d gained a few claps on the back from Morgan after closed off conversations that you had decided you were thankful not to have heard.
Because if you never saw or heard what Reid was doing, and apparently doing with multiple women, multiple times a week, then it couldn’t hurt you anymore than you were already hurting now.
–X–
It took seven months from Maeve’s death to realise that you were only fooling yourself this entire time.
Despite his new-found release, the therapy he’d found in the beds of women whose names he never learnt, there was one thing that you could still rely on with Reid, and that was your Friday night Star Trek watch-along.
You’d mentioned once a few weeks into your job that you’d never seen it before, and he’d had this absolutely starry-eyed look on his face in bewilderment, that when he’d half-heartedly suggested you watch it together, you’d leapt at the chance. Since there was so much of it, here you were over a year later, still keeping to that Friday night ritual. You’d watched it together in motels in the middle of nowhere, you’d watched it together over the Christmas holidays, you’d watched it together in the days directly after Maeve’s death, and tonight was supposed to be no different.
You pulled up to his apartment and knocked on the door, and when you couldn’t immediately hear him shout to “come in” from his kitchen as he was preparing the popcorn, you knew that something was wrong. His door was always unlocked, and he laughed at your habit of knocking on the door, insisting that you could just walk in anytime you needed.
Now that you needed to, your hand seemed heavier than ever. You gripped the cold metal of the handle, knowing exactly what you would find on the other side of the door, but still wanting to live in the clear denial of it. You prayed it was something else keeping him distracted.
You let yourself in and were welcomed with the sight that shattered your heart for the final time. There were clothes scattered across the floor, male and female. Shoes discarded in the heat of the moment. You didn’t want your eyes to follow, but your feet weren’t listening as they walked you to the bedroom door, thrust wide open, and you saw him there finally.
“Shit, Y/N, what are you doing here?” he scrambled to pull his clothes back on, to cover whatever woman it was underneath him that day, to make sure you didn’t see anymore of the image that would be burned into the back of your brain for the rest of your life.
You couldn’t say anything. You knew that he had been doing this, doing it to cope, doing it to move on, doing it to feel a sense of intimacy after he didn’t get that with Maeve. But here was the irrefutable proof that he’d never even looked at you with an ounce of the feeling you had for him. You held up the bag of snacks you usually bought to your Trek marathons as a response, the tears filling up your eyes rendering you mute as you finally tore yourself out of the room.
“Oh god, it’s Friday. I didn’t realise…. I’m sorry, can we do a raincheck, Y/N?” He guided you further out of the room, placing a hand to the small of your back to help move you along. Something in you snapped then and you recoiled from his touch, whipping your head up to him and just staring at him with all the defiance you could muster. He had broken your heart, you weren’t going to let him dismiss you that quickly.
“Y/N, why are you crying? What’s wrong, what happened? Tell me and I’ll do everything I can to fix it.” He finished his words, and made to wipe the tears from your face, but you slapped his hands away from you before he could make contact.
“Don’t… just don’t touch me, Spencer.” Those were the only words you could offer in explanation before you turned on your heel and ran straight out of his apartment for the last time.
–X–
It took one month from you storming out of his apartment for Spencer to realise that he hadn’t dreamt of Maeve in the same amount of time. Where his dreams had been full of her asking him to dance, they were now full of you recoiling from his touch, refusing to speak to him outside of your professional work, withdrawing into yourself and crying. The worst ones were the ones where you were crying because he tried desperately to hold you, to wipe the kisses away, but everytime he tried you moved further and further from his reach.
It had been a month of you ignoring him, and he still didn’t know what went wrong. Yes, you’d caught him in bed with a girl, but you knew he was doing that. You’d known from the start, and he’d known that you’d known, so surely it wasn't just that.
Morgan wasn’t helping him on that front either. He’d explained the awkward run-in in his apartment, desperate for some answers and received some pretty curt replies.
“Pretty boy, if you don’t realise what you did wrong, then there’s nothing I’m going to do to help you. You’re on your own until then.” He’d refused to talk about it anymore.
He’d thought a few times about talking to the girls on the team, but you’d been partnered with JJ for the last month on cases to avoid him, and there was a bond there between the two of you that he didn’t want to overstep.
It was in this confusion that Rossi found him again, taking pity on the boy wandering around like a lost puppy in the absence of your friendship.
“Kid, what is up with you again recently?”
“Y/N has been avoiding me, and I don’t know why. Derek said it was my fault because she… well she walked in on something that I’d rather she hadn’t, you know, and I don’t know why she still won’t talk to me because it’s been a month.” He rambled out, thankful that someone was finally hearing him out.
“If I’m understanding your insinuation here, I think I know what the problem is.” Rossi sat back, choosing his words carefully, so as not to startle the younger man. But he was so worked up all over you, missing your voice, your touch, your company, and just wanting you back in whatever way he could get you that he jumped at the very suggestion of answers.
“Then please, tell me, I’m begging you. I’ve been tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it is and I just miss her so much that it hurts.”
“Spencer, you know I usually don’t get involved in the personal lives of my coworkers, but just listen to me now, nice and calmly - and dont try to interrupt me or say a word. I know what I’m talking about, okay?” He gave a quick nod of his head, waiting with baited breath for Rossi to continue.
“The girl is in love with you. Head over heels, in fact, and has been for quite some time. And she was holding it together real nice until you decided to become this casanova and now she is heartbroken,” Spencer looked like he was about to interrupt, to spew out that that couldn’t possibly be the case, but Rossi silenced him with a look. “If you don’t believe me, you use that memory of yours and you do what you do best. Think about it.”
–X–
For the next three months, that was all Spencer did. He thought about every interaction you’d ever had. The blush on your cheeks when he’d introduced himself for the first time (and refused to shake your hand). The countless nights spent curled up on opposite sides of his couch, laughing and crying together at silly sci-fi shows. The way you’d thrown yourself into his arms after a particularly gruelling case, buried your head in his chest instead of anyone else's. The day you’d finally confessed your past to him, how he’d felt your heart beating as he held a finger to your pulse, hand gently holding yours waiting for you to finish describing the time you’d stared death in the face.
You’d noticed the change, but you wouldn’t let yourself acknowledge it fully. Noticed how he’d shoot you lingering glances from across the room, how he’d look like he had something to say when you announced you were leaving for the night. How he’d ask everyone together what their friday night plans were just to hear you admit that you were going home alone in the company of the rest of the team.
You’d noticed, and god had it given you a spark of hope that you wished would die quickly. You’d noticed, and so you weren’t as surprised when he turned up on your doorstep four months after you’d last talked to him, on another friday evening.
“What are you doing here?” you greeted him, the words coming out colder than you wanted them to seem, inwardly cursing yourself for letting your emotions get the better of you.
“Don’t make me leave, please, I just have something to ask and I’ll leave you alone.”
“Spencer, it’s been a long day, and I just want to go to bed so-”
“Do you still love me?” His words cut you off and your heart all but stopped. Your tongue grew heavy, and the inside of your mouth tasted acidic, knowing that you weren’t going to be able to fully stomach whatever conversation was coming.
“Excuse me?” you spluttered out eventually.
“Three months ago, Rossi said that you were in love with me, and I need to know that if that was the case, are you still in love with me now?” You expected some cold curious look to be gracing his face, but you looked up to see his eyes perfectly trained on your own, his mouth set in a line, a look of stony determination set on his face.
“If I say yes, what difference does that make?” you tried not to spit out the words, but you had no control over the venom in your heart.
“If you say yes, then I am going to kiss you, and then I am going to spend every last day I have on the planet making up for being an idiot for the last two years.” Your breath caught in your throat, and, not for the first time in front of Spencer Reid, you were stunned into silence.
“So, what is your answer?” He looked down at you again, and you started to see the cracks in his stony facade, started to see through to the man who desperately wanted you to say yes, to scream it at him.
The word hadn’t even fully formed on your tongue before he was crashing down into you, his mouth pleading for forgiveness and wrapping you up in him. He grabbed you and pulled you back into your apartment, whispering into each of your kisses.
“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.” The two of you stumbled into the space, but he never moved his hands from the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks gently as his lips brushed against yours again and again.
Your legs gave way beneath you by the time you’d reached the open space of your living room, but instead of catching you, he fell to his knees with you, content for the two of you to just sit there together in each other's embrace.
“You’ve loved me this entire time, and I was too stupid to realise that you’re everything I need.” He kissed your mouth, your jaw, your neck, moving his hands from your face to your waist, pulling you in deep again as you desperately pulled away in search of breath. That only toppled you further to the ground, and he came down on top of you again as well, one hand coming up to cup the back of your head so you didn’t hurt yourself.
And you kissed him back just as fervently when your breath returned, listening to every apology and forgiving him with every touch. His kisses said “I’m sorry,” and yours said “I know,” and that was all the communication you needed for now.
He pulled your shirt over your head eventually, and your skin met the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up your spine causing you to buck your hips up into his. He hissed at the contact and pushed his bodyweight down further into yours, his legs slotting perfectly between your splayed ones now.
“It took me too long to realise, and it has taken me too long to act on the knowledge, but I am not going to let you go again, do you understand?” he pushed his lips into yours again before you could respond, and you clawed into his shoulders as he started grinding down into your body. His hand trailed up your waist to your breasts, pulling them free from the constraints of your bra, as he let his tongue slide down from your neck to your chest.
“I need to hear you say it baby, need you to say you understand, can you do that for me?” Your body burned under his attention, back arching desperately for more contact as his tongue swirled your nipple into his mouth, gasping breaths loud enough to fill the empty air of your apartment. His stiff cock was firmly pressing against your core now, barely clothed in the pajamas you’d pulled on before his arrival.
“Spencer, yes, I need you, I need you right now, please,” grabbed at either side of his face and pulled him back up so he was face to face with you. You initiated the kiss this time, and you could feel your heart soar at the tender kiss he met you with, thankful for the reciprocation.
“Not yet, baby, not yet, okay?” he whispered in your ear, trailing his hands down to your centre and slipping his hand under your clothes. “So fucking wet for me, baby. Just for me, right, baby?” His fingers found your clit, and he started rolling it between his fingers. He worked slowly enough to drive you insane, but giving you just enough relief that you couldn’t complain.
“Yes, Spencer, yes, yes it’s all for you. Only for you,” you managed to gasp out. He shifted his hand after a few minutes, still pressing love bites down your chest, claiming you as his in the most animalistic way possible. He spread the wetness that pooled at your core around, making sure that his fingers were coated in you before pushing a single digit into your aching hole, thumb continuing to draw circles around your bundle of nerves.
“That’s my little slut, so desperate for me, so needy for me.” His words shot through you, and you started thrusting your hips up desperate for more friction with his hand. He roughly pushed you back down, pinning you under him with his free hand.
“No, baby, I’m in charge here. You sit back and relax and let me make you feel good,okay?” His words soothed you, the growing heat in the pit of your stomach fizzing in anticipation. His kisses dropped lower and lower, until he was finally pulling off your remaining clothing and replacing his thumb with his lips.
“Fuck Spencer, if you keep doing that, I’m going to-” another sharp intake as he pumped a second finger in and out of you.
“Going to what, baby? Use your words?”
“I’m going to cum, Spencer please, I’m going to cum, I’m going to cum.,,” you rode out your high with his face stuffed between your legs still, swallowing your loud moans for fear of the entire neighbourhood knowing just how obsessed you were with this man.
“You did so good for me, baby, so good. I love you so much, okay? I’m going to take care of you from now on, okay?” He began pressing kisses to your mouth again, and you could taste yourself against him now.
“I need you so badly, baby, are you going to let me have you?” He started pulling off his own clothing now, removing his shirt and tie, but never once leaving your embrace for too long.
“I love you so much, baby. I’m sorry for not realising before, but I realise now. I was so terrible to you after Maeve, and god, even before she died I was using you as a therapist to talk through my thoughts and fears, but I was too dense to even realise that I was only in love with Maeve because she was safe. I couldn’t meet her, couldn’t touch her, didn’t have the chance to ruin anything I had with her. I couldn't realise that she wasn’t you, that she wasn’t going to feel like you do in my arms. And maybe some part of me loved her, but we were using each other, and I was using her to avoid confronting how I felt about you.”
“And how I feel for you is different. I am obsessed with you, Y/N. I am so madly in love with you that the last four months have felt like hell. I could have emptied myself of all the blood in my body and still my heart would be beating for you. Do you understand?”
You answered in a chaste kiss on his lips, sweet and quick, but as much as you could muster without driving yourself to the brink of insanity getting yourself high on his touch.
“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want now, okay?” He’d unbuttoned his pants shortly after that and you stared transfixed at the head of his cock poking up and out of them, desperate to see it, touch it, taste it.
“I need you inside of me, Spence, please,” you cried out, tears welling in your eyes at the tender contact, the confession. All the emotions you’d been burying for the last four months bubbling to the surface, dancing around your head as he made you dizzy with desire.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N. I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” with the last of his clothing removed he was finally free, taking his heavy,aching cock in his hand and lining himself up with you. With a single thrust, and another confession of love, he gave you what you wanted so much.
“You wanted me like this, baby? So desperate to have my cock inside you?” he plagued you with questions as you adjusted to his size, watching your face for any discomfort as you mumbled out yes after yes.
“Me too, baby. I wanted you just like this, wanted you so desperate and dripping for me that I could slide right in, wanted you like this for me and only me.” He began thrusting then, slowly pumping his cock into you, heavy with each return, the sound of skin slapping against skin joining the ensemble of your moans.
“I love you,” he said again, and with each thrust of his hips, and you responded in kind, matching his thrusts with your own and pressing a kiss into the skin of his shoulders. You were so desperate and needy, so starved of touch and starved of one another that neither of you lasted long. Your bodies were so in sync that as soon as he’d pushed you over the edge for a second time, you could feel him spill himself inside you, filling you completely.
He rolled off you, but didn’t leave you there, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom. He cleaned you up as much as possible, then folded you back into his arms, holding you again so tenderly that you let the tears flow down your cheeks for a final time.
It was Friday night, and he was here, and he loved you. You weren’t going to let him go again.
2K notes · View notes
greensagephase · 9 months
Text
Nonviolent Communication - Part Two
***Fanart done by the lovely @sunsetdoodler for the end scene of this part can be found here !! Thank you so much @sunsetdoodler for drawing this!! I'm in love with the way you drew this scene and I'm still not over how tiny the coffee cup looks in his hand 🥹 so CUTE!!! Please go and show some love to this amazing artist and their work!!***
Miguel O'Hara x FemReader
Summary: You show up to HQ after a day off due to your period (Part One). You accidently intrude on your boss's personal moment.
Word Count: 6,468
Warning: Sad Miguel Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine |
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Part Two
The next day you wake up bright and early. You're definitely feeling a million times better. You sit up in bed and untuck your sweatshirt. Miguel's handmade rice socks slide out. You didn’t need them last night, but you still felt like using them to prevent or ease any cramps or pain during the night. You quickly get ready for the day, changing into clothes to go out and fixing your hair. You make breakfast and for some reason you check the cabinets and drawer from last night again. They're still fixed. The containers that Miguel left are in your fridge. 
You feel silly as you check this. It really did feel like a dream having Miguel O'Hara, your boss, visit your apartment and then to find out he had lied about the reason for his visit.
You reheat the canelita from last night as you eat breakfast and think. The realization that he had lied kept you up for a little while last night. You don't understand why he would lie about it. 
But then you also wonder what it meant. It wasn't like you thought he was heartless. Or some stone-cold man. He could act like he was sometimes, but you feel that he is not like that. You remember hearing the events that unfolded before your enrollment into the Spider Society. An altercation with Miles Morales, who is now one of your closest colleagues, trying to prevent his father from dying. Miguel launched a multiverse hunt for Miles, trying to prevent him from breaking the canon, which had resulted in several spider-members breaking off the Spider Society to side with Miles. In the end, Miguel had discovered that he was wrong. Miles’s father didn’t need to die to keep the multiverse balanced. After discovering he was wrong, he apologized and even helped Miles save his dad, according to Miles himself. So, Miguel O’Hara was not heartless, or completely uncaring.
He was, however, still filled with guilt and pain from losing his family. You couldn't help but wonder if he would ever be able to heal and move on.
He did care, you think. He was just too scared of showing it. Maybe he feared letting people know he cared or had the potential to still care. You sigh as you drink the warm canelita. Maybe that’s why he had lied. Perhaps he had been somewhat concerned for you and had decided to check your wellness. Then, seeing you in pain, he felt the responsibility to help. That was it. Whatever the reason, you know he didn’t want you to know. This was clear to you as he had made sure to tell you not to mention it to Jessica twice to prevent getting caught in a lie.
You finish breakfast and wash dishes before heading out. You stop as you're nearly out the door, turning to look at a picture of Peter. You bring your fingertips to your lips, planting a soft kiss before pressing them to Peter's lips on the picture. 
You smile at the photo. "This city depends on me," you say, remembering this was one of the things he had last told you. You head out then, fulfilling your daily promise to Peter of ensuring the safety of this city. You swing through the city, easily, looking out for crime or anyone in need of help. You watch the sky, the sun climbing higher and higher. The city never rests but you see it's still calm and early before the sidewalks are overfilled with busy citizens living their lives. You end up sitting on a tall building, just watching and patrolling. Your senses are met as you sit there. You hear chatter already. There are some honks here and there from cars below on the streets. Music plays from somewhere nearby. You feel a light breeze in the air, messing with your hair. There’s a bakery down below, and despite the height, the scent of fresh baked bread fills the air.
Your eyes end up on a couple. You can't help but watch as they walk hand in hand. Not a care in the world. They both look like they're going to work as they talk and laugh to themselves. Your gaze follows them until they reach an intersection where they part ways but not before they kiss on the lips. It looks like a longing kiss, as if they're already missing each other despite their bodies being pressed against each other’s.
A soft sight escapes your lips. That used to be Peter and you, you realized. It was that kind of love. The kind in which you'd start missing your person even before you said goodbye. The kind that had you already longing to kiss their lips again while you were kissing them. 
You longed to have that back. You missed having that. To still feel that. Even though it has been three years since Peter's death, you haven't thought about a new relationship. Sure, you have been asked out in the last year or so, but you didn't feel ready yet. You felt as though it was too soon. For some reason though, in this moment, watching the couple, you feel as though you are ready to be open to the possibility of a relationship again. You know it might never be the same as with Peter. Peter was the first everything. He's always going to be special and different to you no matter what but... 
That doesn't mean love can't come again, right? And you had promised Peter, too. That you would be open to it. As you look at the city before you, you realize you're okay with at least being open to a relationship now. It's not going to be immediate of course, as it's going to take a while to find someone you can trust the same way you trusted Peter. 
You sigh and get up, cleaning your pants. It seems that everything is good with your city. At least for now. You give one last glance at the lovers, now walking in different directions.
You walk away from the edge of the building and open a multidimensional portal, ready to report to HQ. Since you missed out on yesterday's meeting, you have no idea if you have special missions today or for the rest of the week. The sooner you show up to HQ, the sooner you'll know what you have been assigned and plus, you needed to go and organize the lab since you also skipped that. You enter through the portal, stepping out into the cafeteria which buzzes with energy of about seventy or so spider members. You nod to a few who you've worked with in the past as you walk by. The scent of coffee fills the air, making you crave it since you didn't have any earlier. You grab a cup then decide to grab another one for Miguel as you're heading there to collect the report from yesterday. You make your way to his lab, making it sooner than expected. You call for Lyla, who always appears. Except she doesn't appear right now. You frown. 
"Lyla?" you say hoping she'll pop out of nowhere like she usually does. You always call her before you go into Miguel's lab. You always do this to avoid entering unannounced, but Lyla doesn't appear with her bubbly and sassy personality.  
You debate going into the lab. On one hand, you need to figure out if you have a mission. What if there's something planned that you were assigned, and you miss it? You really don’t want to make any mission partners angry at you skipping accidentally. On the other hand, you don't want to just go into the lab unannounced even though you know other members do that sometimes.
You frown and debate internally, finally making up your mind. You push open one of the labs doors, careful not to spill any coffee on yourself, deciding that knowing if you have missions is more important. Once you enter, the door closes behind you softly. The lab is dark and quiet. You can spot the yellow lights from the monitors faintly. You begin to question if Miguel is even here. He might be out on a mission right now. You continue to walk further in just as you receive a message from Jessica through your gizmo. You put the cups of coffee down on a nearby surface, already too deep in the lab. You pull open the message, noticing that it was sent to all Spider Society members.
"Whatever you do, do NOT, and I mean do NOT, go into Miguel's lab today. Don't speak to him. Don't approach him. Avoid him at all costs. He's not to be approached today. Any questions you have, direct them to me." 
You curse under your breath. Why didn't Jessica send this sooner, you ask yourself as you look up. At least it seems that he's not here, you think as you look around only to realize you're very wrong. 
You feel shivers run down your body as you see him. He's hunched over his monitors on his platform. You hadn't seen him because the light was off. You stand still, heart racing suddenly. 
Shit, you think to yourself. Why did Jessica send the message two minutes too late? You begin walking backwards quietly, forgetting the cups of coffee. You'll retrieve them tomorrow if all goes well. You watch Miguel carefully, making sure he stays the same, making sure he doesn’t detect you. You make it a good bit before he moves. His movement is so subtle you pause walking, making you freeze in place.
Shit, shit, shit, you think. He's looking over his shoulder now, probably scanning the area. 
"Who's there?" Miguel asks, in a voice so much different from the one he used last night. This voice is raspy, laced with anger and something else. It's almost threatening. "Do not make me ask again," he says with a coldness that could put winter to shame when silence meets him. 
You hear your heart race in your ears. It's beating and beating. This is the scary Miguel people talk about, you realize. You hear him breathing. He sounds irritated. You decide to speak at last to avoid angering him any further. 
"It's me, Y/N. I'm sorry for coming in... I see you're busy, so I'll head out now," you say, before you begin speed walking towards the doors. Before you know it, however, you see Miguel's bright illuminating webs shoot past you and onto the doors, blocking them. You halt as you see this. You turn around slowly to face his direction, unknowing what’s going to happen next. Is he going to scream at you for interrupting him? Is he going to take out his emotions on you?
You watch carefully as he stands on the platform, facing you now. He looks menacing standing there on his platform with the lights off, the only visible lights being the yellow monitor lights which are faint to begin with. He stands still, watching in your direction, silent. You swallow hard before you take a step forward.
You can’t help but ask yourself what you’re doing. You should stay still; you should try and leave but no. Here you are, taking more steps towards him, approaching him as if he were a delicate glass figure who could break at any sudden and abrupt movement. All the while, Miguel stands there, like a statue. You can feel his gaze on you now. He has the kind of gaze that anyone could feel. Or maybe it was just you who felt his heavy gaze. You take step after step, until you are standing before him. He still stands there, towering over you, perfectly still. You release a slow breath as you meet his eyes. There’s anger, sadness, and grief in them. You tell yourself you should leave at that moment. Who are you anyway? You are just another member of the Spider Society. You are not one of his most trusted members. You are just you.
You are you, the one he checked on last night. You are the member he left his lab and million of duties he assigns himself for to travel to your universe to check on you. He helped you last night. He made you homemade rice socks to ease your pain. He made food for you, which happened to be one of your comfort foods. He made you canelita, to ease your cramps. He fixed your cabinets and took out the trash and dealt with the dishes. He watched you become overwhelmed with your emotions as you remembered Peter.
Even though Miguel O’Hara didn’t want you to know, he had shown up of his own accord and not because another member had asked him to. Jessica had not asked him to check on you.
He made the decision all on his own. You didn’t know why exactly but you were thankful, nonetheless. And that was all that mattered to you suddenly. You were grateful he had shown you kindness.
Still meeting his eyes as you think about this, you speak up again, knowing that the only thing you wish to do right now, is reciprocate that kindness. He can reject it. He can tell you to go away. He can laugh or mock you. You could care less right now. You just want to reciprocate the kind gesture from last night and that’s why you ask, looking into his maroon eyes, “Is there anything – anything I can do for you right now?”
Miguel’s eyes narrow down at you. There’s an emotion in them. Perhaps, surprise? Is he surprised by the question? Has anyone ever asked Miguel if they can do anything for him? Would he even let them if they asked?
Your arms hang at your sides as you continue to hold his gaze. “I could simply listen,” you say quietly, trying to tell him that he could just talk about whatever it is that’s bothering him. You’ll listen… If he lets you.
A few minutes go by – or maybe it just feels that long as the two of you stand in front of each other, holding each other’s gaze, in silence in his dark lab. You almost feel like he could do this all day. Just stand there, watching you with his maroon eyes narrowed at you. You wonder what he’s thinking. Or maybe he’s not even thinking. Maybe he’s so wrapped up in his emotions, he has forgotten you are there. Maybe you have become part of his lab, just another object laying around.
You begin to feel as though this will continue forever. You will be stuck in this moment with him until he snaps out of it. You find yourself thinking that you’d wait it out with him, to return the gesture of last night. You will stand here the rest of the day until he-
“Lyla,” Miguel says, finally breaking the silence. His voice is hoarse.
You feel stunned for a few seconds. You thought he’d only continue to stand there in silence for longer. You recover quickly though and nod slowly, hoping that this encourages him to talk more. You also wonder for a second if he’s requesting Lyla to show up, but she doesn’t appear. You find this strange. She’s not showing up even for him.
Miguel turns around, turning away from you to face the monitors. You stand still, in the same spot. You feel as though you should remain still, to avoid upsetting or alarming him. You notice that he begins to move his monitors around, though you cannot see what’s in them as his body covers your view. You wait for anything else. He sighs as he stops moving his monitors.
“Last night,” Miguel begins, “I returned from your apartment. I ran maintenance on Lyla before I left, and when I returned, I found a folder that she kept hidden from me.”
You listen intently, your brows furrowing as you hear the last bit. Lyla hid a folder from him? You can’t help but wonder what it contained but you know immediately whatever it was, is the root of his mood today. You watch Miguel’s head drop. The sight of this on a man like him, who always looks put together, stern, and unbreakable, is devastating. You feel the need to reach out to him. To lay your hand on his arm as a sign of support but you know very well that would be too much for the founder and leader of the Spider Society. You can’t help but think about something Jessica once said after you and other members had returned from a mission. The mission had been particularly hard, as you had all dealt with a vexing anomaly. However, it had been a success in the end, with the anomaly captured and returned to its original universe. One of the other members on the mission had joked about Miguel congratulating all of you with a hug, to which Jessica had responded in a very serious and somber manner that had snatched your teammate’s humor instantly after.
“Miguel cannot do physical touch in that way, right now. Perhaps he never will.”
You remember thinking how sad that sounded. That someone couldn’t do physical touch in that way. Of course, you understood why it would be hard for him. You had heard he had lost his daughter in his arms. Your fingers twitch, wishing you could comfort him but there’s a line. A line you’re unwilling to cross when you know Miguel has firmly drawn it. Your hands curl into fists, trying to end the need to comfort him. Listening will have to do, you think.
“The folder contains photos and videos of my… previous life. Of my daughter and wife,” Miguel says, sounding pained and heartbroken.
You share his sadness as you realize. Lyla had hidden it. Lyla, who is nowhere to be found… You piece the pieces together and conclude that the bubbly, cute, and sassy AI assistant has been deactivated or shut off for the time being as a result of Miguel’s emotions.
You don’t know what to say. What can you say? How do you respond to this unique scenario in which your AI assistant hides a folder containing contents from your previous life before disaster struck? As you stare into Miguel’s back, you think about Lyla.
Lyla, who is always sassy and bubbly. Lyla, who follows Miguel’s every command.
Lyla, who is the only one that accompanies the founder and leader of the Spider Society when he’s locked up in his lab. Lyla, who despite being AI, is the only one that knows in full disclosure about the life Miguel led.
The one who saw a happy Miguel. A Miguel with a wife and daughter. A Miguel that probably smiled and laughed often. A version of him that didn’t stare into monitors with a grief-stricken face. You cannot help but wonder in that moment, staring at his large back… What was it like to hear Miguel O’Hara’s laugh? You guessed it was deep and rich, the kind that probably made you want to make the man laugh more to keep hearing it. You wondered what his smile looked like, too.
You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. It was not the moment. You focus again. Lyla, the AI assistant that probably knew Miguel better than any other Spider Society member, had hidden a folder containing photos and videos of his previous life. Of his wife and daughter. And you know why. Or at least you are certain you know why. That little sassy and bubbly AI assistant cares for Miguel. You cannot help but pinpoint this as her reasoning for hiding it. She knows him and what he has been through. She knew it’d break him further to see more memories of his previous life.
Still standing behind him, unmoving, you gently respond, “I’m sorry…”
Miguel’s head is still hanging when he speaks again. “She hid it from me all these years. Do you know how many files I had before this?” he asks, his voice hoarse, still laced with anger and sadness. He responds before you can. “I had three!” he says, louder. “Two videos and one photograph! And she’s had this file containing over a dozen photos and videos of them. How dare she! How dare she hide this from me? How could she hide them from me… My family,” Miguel says with a much more desperate and mournful tone that almost makes you want to weep for him.
You notice his hand, laying against a monitor softly. He shifts his body some, allowing you, accidentally, to see the monitor. You feel overwhelmed with sadness as your eyes scan the photograph. There, in the monitor is Miguel standing in the back with his arms wrapped around a woman while the other one holds a girl. Your eyes move across the woman, Miguel’s wife. You had heard from other spider members that he had met her shortly after inserting himself into the child’s life. They had quickly fallen in love and had married in a short amount of time. She was beautiful with mid-length hair, bright eyes, and a warm smile. You move to the child. Her small face was precious with her toothy smile and scrunched nose as she looked at the camera. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she wore a soccer uniform. You cannot explain the feeling that overwhelms your heart as you see this beautiful girl. Finally, your eyes land on him.
Miguel O’Hara looks at the camera with happy eyes and a smile that leaves you a little breathless. The sight is strange and yet comforting in some way. His eyes are bright. He looks happy. More than happy, really. This was another Miguel. One that you had never met. One that you may never meet. You don’t fail to notice that he’s in casual clothes in the photograph, further indicating how different this version of him to the one in skin and bones before you are. Miguel never smiles or laughs. He is never seen in comforting and relaxing clothing. His eyes are never full and bright. There is no twinkle in his eyes like there is in the photograph. No, the eyes of the man in front of you are vacant of this twinkle. No sign of happiness.
An involuntary, deep sigh escapes from you. You freeze almost immediately. Miguel turns to you with an unreadable look on his face. You meet his eyes briefly before you  return your attention to the monitor.
“She was beautiful… They both were,” you whisper as your eyes land on the little girl again.
You wonder what she was like. Her soccer uniform gives you a glimpse of her. You imagine she was dedicated to it. She probably was good at scoring goals. You imagine her scoring one and running to the sidelines, where Miguel probably stood, watching, and cheering with his wife. You imagine them, going out to get ice cream afterwards to celebrate. You imagine Miguel giving her a ride on his back as she squeals, his wife laughing and finding the scene wholesome.
You cannot explain it. You feel as though you are grieving for him, the life he used to have. You grieve his happiness.
He was so happy. He had everything. A wife and a daughter. A family. And they were gone. Just like that.
As you stare at the photograph, your emotions swirling, you fail to notice Miguel watching you. He notices the way your posture has changed. You usually walk around with a posture that many envy. Your head is always high. Your face is usually bright and warm. And yet, when he looks at you now, he sees the way your arms hang at your sides almost in a helpless way. He notices your hands, curled in fists and wonders the reason for it. He observes your slumped shoulders, as if you were sharing the burden of his emotions in that moment.
Despite his emotions being a wreck right now, he finds the moment to feel off by this sight. He is used to seeing you happy and with a warm smile. He wondered a few times how someone could always carry themselves this way despite losing someone. He knew of your loss, of course. He didn’t know the exact details, but he knew it had been painful and his suspicions had been further confirmed last night when he had asked why you stuck around to your shitty apartment. He had seen the way you had focused on the wall with photographs. He had guessed you were looking at a photo of you and your Peter. He was never going to admit it out loud, but he had explored your apartment while you slept, and that wall had caught his attention.
His eyes had observed your face. There was not one in which you weren’t smiling. It didn’t matter if you were looking at the camera or not, there was a smile on your face. He couldn’t help but notice the way you smiled at Peter, too, in the photos that you were not facing the camera. It seemed to Miguel that Peter was your everything and you had proven his thought right when he saw your eyes focus on a specific photo on this wall. When your eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill down your face. When he saw the familiar emotions he carried with him every day.
Grief. Sadness. Heartbreak. Longing.  
Miguel swallows the lump in his throat as his eyes are still on you. He watches the way you scan the photo. There is no judgement from you. There is no question about how it happened. You just watch and you seem to feel his pain. He finally turns to the screen, shifting over, giving you a better view of the monitor displaying the photo. His movement is subtle, and it could easily be mistaken as an accident, but it was anything but that. Miguel O’Hara, for once, was okay with someone looking at a photo of his previous life. He felt that he could trust you, even though you were one of the newest members in his society. He felt something inside him when he heard you call his wife and daughter beautiful. His face had a longing look on it but a small, almost barely there, smile appeared on his face as his eyes scanned the photo again.
“They were…,” he said softly. “My daughter – her name was Gabriella.”
Your eyes shift to Miguel again. You can see a ghost of a smile on his face. It pains you to see this. He deserves to be happy, you think.
“That’s a beautiful name… Gabriella,” you say softly, and you don’t fail to see the way his eyes close when you say his child’s name. It’s almost as if it’s too much to hear it out loud but Miguel opens his eyes again.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve heard someone else say her name,” Miguel says quietly, barely audible but you hear it, and this breaks your heart. You watch him swallow. “She was bright, so bright. She did well in school. She loved science,” Miguel says before he brings his hand to his face. You watch as he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. Tears, you realize. He’s wiping tears off his eyes as he talks about Gabriella. And – suddenly, Miguel is talking about his daughter. Spilling everything that comes to his mind about her.
He tells you about the science projects Gabriella did and how she earned A’s. He tells you about her in the soccer team, how she put so much determination into her practices. How she dedicated her goals to him. About the way she had nightmares sometimes and how she called for him, him being the only one that could truly comfort her and lure her back to sleep. He talks about making her breakfast and how much she loved Saturday breakfasts especially because he made pancakes with chocolate chip cookies on them.
Miguel goes on and on, giving you more glimpses into his life and hell – you grieve that life for him. You grieve the death of a child you never knew. Your urge to comfort him grows with each detail he gives you. Your curled fists unclench and clench over and over. It’s so hard to hold back, to not wrap your arms around this man who is stuck in the past, grieving a life he no longer has… but you know you shouldn’t. You know you can’t as you remember Jessica’s comment about Miguel being unable to do physical touch. Instead, you do what you can do.
“She sounds like a wonderful child, Miguel,” you whisper still looking at the image, and you mean it. Little Gabriella sounds like a beam of sunlight. She sounds like the kind of child that could turn your frown into a smile. You smile faintly at her toothy smile. You wonder what kind of life she would’ve led but you stop yourself, feeling like you have no right to wonder that. “I have never said it before because I know…” you trail off not wanting to say what you wanted to say, which was that you knew this was a topic that couldn’t be brought up. Other members had warned you about bringing it up, so you never did. “… but I’m so sorry for your loss,” you whisper and hope your tone expresses your condolences.
Miguel remains silent. He continues to look at the screen and it appears his tears have slowed down at least. “Thank you,” he says, his voice sounding less hoarse and calmer, but it’s still laced with sadness.
You remember Lyla then and you can’t help but feel bad for the little AI assistant. You wonder if you will push it too far by bringing her up.
“I know I’m no one,” you start, turning your face to him even though he cannot see it. “To say anything and I know it’s upsetting, rightfully so…” you say, understanding why Miguel was so angry.
Miguel turns slightly towards you, as if interested in what you have to say. You let out a soft sigh. “Lyla – you know she cares about you, right?” you ask, softly.
Miguel turns his head away again and doesn’t respond for a few seconds until finally he nods. He sighs and brings a hand to his left temple. He massages it for a few seconds, perhaps a sign of a headache, you wonder.
“I know,” he answers quietly. “I know she did it to avoid – “ he says but doesn’t finish. You nod understanding.
“She’s always around to help you,” you say, a little smile forming on your face as you think about her. “She’s always so sassy but she always does her job.”
Miguel scoffs, nodding. “Her sassiness wasn’t planned. She took that trait all on her own,” he says but you don’t believe it. Lyla had once told you how sassy Miguel himself was before the events that changed his life forever took place. You guess his own sassiness was inspiration for hers. You smile as you think of that side of him, probably buried deep in him. You don’t mention this though and just nod. Maybe one day, you can see that side of him. Maybe.
“I haven’t seen her in a few days since I was out, but I miss her questions,” you say, referring to how she showers you with questions every time you clean the lab.
Miguel stays still and replies a few seconds later. “I deactivated her after I found out what she did.”
Your suspicion is proved correct then. You don’t say anything else. It’s not like you can ask him to bring her back. At the end of the day, Lyla is his creation. The two of you remain silent for a few minutes in his dark lab. Miguel finally sighs and straightens up, his true height towering over you.
“I’ll activate her again,” Miguel says, and his voice is in its usual tone now. The same one from yesterday while he talked to you in the kitchen. You feel relief wash over you. If you felt so attached to her without being her creator, you wonder how attached Miguel might be to her. Miguel then turns around, fully facing you. You look up at him. He is a different man than the one you first encountered earlier. He lifts his wrist closer to his face and begins clicking his gizmo. Not even ten seconds later, Lyla appears again.
She floats next to his head and looks around, seemingly confused. Her eyes land on you before they turn to Miguel.
“Miguel – you know I didn’t mean to,” she says and for once, her tone is not sassy or bubbly. She sounds truly sorry. Miguel stares at her, with eyes that reveal his attachment to her.
“It’s alright, Lyla. I know,” Miguel mutters and Lyla floats over to hug his head, happy to be back and forgiven it seems.
You try hiding your chuckle but fail miserably, catching both of their attention. You straighten up, noticing their gaze on you now. Lyla disappears and appears just as quickly as she disappeared, suddenly in front of your face.
She makes it a point to look like she’s whispering to you. “I guess I have you to thank, right?” she asks, winking at you behind her heart-shaped glasses. You chuckle softly.
“It’s good to have you back, Lyla.”
Lyla grins and offers you a fist bump. “This is why you’re one of my favorite spider members,” she says, earning a scowl from Miguel.
“I thought you said you didn’t have favorites, Lyla.”
Lyla shrugs at Miguel once she faces him after you return the fist bump. “It would hurt your feelings if you knew you’re not in my top five. Sorry, Miguel,” she says, still hovering over you. This earns Lyla another scowl.
“And I created you,” Miguel says in disbelief, but you can tell there’s a little bit of a playfulness in his tone.
“Y/N is in my top five.”
You raise an eyebrow. “I am? I literally joined the society like – four months ago.”
Lyla shrugs, floating back to Miguel. “That doesn’t matter, Y/N. I will not elaborate why you’re one of my favorites,” she says with a little smirk before looking at Miguel and then back at you. You can’t help but feel like her look at Miguel was to make some point as to why you’re one of her favorites, but you chalk it up to overthinking.
“Well, consider me flattered,” you reply with a grin, which Lyla returns before she looks around.
“So – you guys have been hanging out in the dark like some weirdos? Let’s light up this place,” Lyla says, and the lab is suddenly lit up.
The sudden light makes Miguel and you close your eyes in discomfort. You blink a few times, trying to get used to the change.
“Lyla, did you really have to do it that suddenly? A warning would’ve been appreciated you know?” Miguel asks, giving Lyla an annoyed look.
“Sorry, I just couldn’t stand the darkness in here.”
You chuckle quietly, still trying to adjust to the sudden bright lights. With your eyes finally adjusted, you look up at Miguel and Lyla. Lyla is grinning as she sits in the air with one of her legs crossed over the other. Miguel scoffs at her before he turns his attention to you. His face is calm and relaxed.
“I’m – sorry for the way I snapped earlier when you arrived,” Miguel starts with sincerity. “Did you need something?”
“Please don’t apologize, there’s no need to,” you say with a small smile. The last thing you wanted was for him to apologize when you intruded. Yet, you feel something in your chest you cannot describe at the fact that he has apologized. “I came to collect the report from yesterday’s meeting. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t skipping missions.”
Miguel nods and steps off his platform, brushing past you. He walks over to another surface and picks up what you assume is the report. He walks back to you and extends his arm, handing you the report. You take it and thank him. You quickly flip through it, your eyes scanning the pages to see if you have a mission today. You see you don’t have anything until tomorrow.
You look up at Miguel. He seems to be looking elsewhere though there’s an expression on his face you cannot decipher.
“Well, that was all. Thank you and – I’m sorry for intruding,” you add with embarrassment.
Miguel turns to you and shakes his head softly. “Don’t worry about it…”
You smile briefly before you begin taking steps back. “Okay, well. I should head out… I’ll see you around,” you say before you turn around and begin walking towards the door. You suddenly remember the organizing. You stop walking but don’t turn. “Oh, I’ll come tomorrow after my mission to organize the lab, if you don’t mind.”
“Alright. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Y/N!” Lyla calls out.
“Bye, Lyla!” you say before exiting the lab, report in hand.
The door closes after you, leaving Miguel and his sassy AI assistant alone in a well-lit lab now. Miguel turns to his monitors. He stares at the picture for a few seconds. There’s a faint smile on his face before he closes the tab and folder. Lyla remains silent as if sensing that Miguel needs this moment. Miguel sighs, looking around the lab. Sensing that she can talk now, Lyla breaks the silence, noticing something.
“Why do you have two random coffee cups abandoned over there? I swear some of the members are so unorganized and forgetful sometimes,” Lyla complains, floating away.
Miguel looks around, a slight frown on his face as he searches the lab with his eyes before he spots them. Two cups of coffee are placed on one of the many surfaces of the lab. He stares at them, knowing instantly who brought them. He walks over to the surface and grabs one, lifting it to his face. It’s still warm in his hand and the scent of coffee fills his nostrils. He takes a sip, deep in thought for a few seconds.
“So, care to elaborate why Y/N is one of your top five spider members?” Miguel asks Lyla, curiously.
“I don’t think I will.”
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taglist:
@loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @mandodinstuff
Thank you for the support so far, it's really appreciated 🥰! Part three will be up in a few days. I don't know how long this will be but I think there might be five in total? We'll see! Also, excuse any spelling or grammar errors. I edited it but I read it for so long my eyes probably still missed something.
I still love Miguel O'Hara. That's all.
1K notes · View notes
princeguri66 · 2 months
Note
Can I ask for a 141 x male reader who acts like a mom to them? Just reader being prepared for anything even in the middle of a mission, giving them snacks and predicting their problems
Aww wait that's such a cute concept though ♪⁠~⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠`⁠ ⁠) apologies if this isn't exactly what you were hoping for but these were what I could come up with.
I like to think reader here would be older than them, either the same age as price or just a bit older. And like a bear too.
Being in the game for so long you've developed these sort of "instincts"
Price introduced you to the team as his friend from his earlier days in the military. Says that you'll be part of the team for a while so he hopes you all get along well.
And you do, spending so much time with the team has let them warm up to you and get comfortable with you. Makes your urge to take care of them unleash.
You sitting next to Gaz in the helly heading to a mission and he comments how he wished he had more to eat earlier. You pulling out a granola bar from one of your many pockets and handing it to him, Gaz looking at you as if to ask "are you sure?" And you just reply with a nod and a soft smile, Gaz taking it with a grin on his face as he eats it. And once he finishes it you take another one out of the same pocket and ask "are you still hungry?"
He keeps eating whatever you offer and as you start to get worried wether this kid has been eating enough or not he says "thank you, sir. I feel better" with a crumby smile.
You huff fondly "got something on your cheek there sweety" and lick your thumb to clean his cheek. Him trying to contain the blood running to his cheeks because it's embarrassing.
Just chilling with Soap as you both clean your weapons. Hearing him go "ouch" as he clicks his tongue. "What's wrong lad?" You ask him as you look up from cleaning your gun.
He looks up at you after cleaning his knife "Accidentally sliced a bit of my finger, it's no big deal"
You respond with a nod and walk over to him and kneel Infront of him to hold his hand, inspecting the little cut on his finger. You pull out a spiderman themed bandaid and place it on the wound. Giving it a small kiss then saying "all done" as you look up at him and walk back to where you were previously cleaning your gun.
You bet your ass everytime he gets a small boo-boo he's going to be looking for you all over base for another colorful bandaid and another healing kiss.
Taking care of Ghost as he sits on the bed since he insisted that he was fine (but it's so obvious that he isn't) patching up his wounds with normal gauze and placing colorful character themed bandaids on top. As you finish up you gently rub his arm in a comforting motion, silently telling him that everything's ok and that everyone is fine. Wanting him to know that if he's too stubborn for actual professional care you'll make do.
You stand back to look over him, checking that you haven't missed anything. If he's got a wound on his face then he'll just have to take care of it himself. You step forward and rest your hand on his cheek, your warmth phasing through his mask. "You alright sweety?" You ask him in a gentle tone and all he can do is let out a shaky sigh and lean forward, resting his head on your Stomach. You gently wrap your hands around his head and start rubbing his back. It seems like he really needed this kind of comfort.
And don't think just because Price is closer to your age doesn't mean he gets out of being taken care of.
Being a friend of him for years makes you aware of his bad habits with overworking and lack of sleep schedule. One night you finally decide to put a stop to it after seeing rays of light seeping through the crack of his office door. You don't even knock, just opening it and standing right in front of his desk, crossing your arms you look at him with a questioning glare.
And Price knows that look, experienced it so many times and now that you're both in the same squad again he hopes to feel that comfort that you seem to always carry with you. You scold him for overworking till late at night and drag him out of his office and into his room. You throw him on to his bed and tuck him in, you lean close to his face and his eyes are full of adoration, for taking care of him all these years and now taking care of his team. You place a kiss on his forehead and he just melts. He missed this, and he's so glad the rest of his team can experience your care as well.
As he hears you leave and close the door behind you with a resounding click, he thinks to himself on how nice it would be to have you with them for even longer. And he's sure the rest are thinking the same thing.
(You'd be delighted if you could take care of them for longer as well)
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hon3y-y · 3 months
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⋆。‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧。⋆ Sickness and health
Cw; no smut, soft satoru with his sick s/o who he loves so very much, pet names, fem!reader
Enjoy<3
Your sniffles could be heard all day, your skin paling in contrast to its normal liveliness along with the fact you’ve been curled up in a ball since you woke up. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize you were sick, and it certainly didn’t get past your loving boyfriend who heard your stuffy voice through the phone and made it his personal duty to take care of you, arriving at your place in record time.
“Open.” His voice is soft, holding out a spoon of warm soup to you, which you reluctantly swallowed. He smiled, mumbling a ‘good girl’ before giving you more.
You sat up, pulling the blanket with you as a shiver shot up your spine. “Babe, you’re too close. You’re gonna get sick—“ cutting yourself off with a Yelp as he shoved another spoonful in your mouth, sushing you gently. “That’s not important right now.” He pushes you to lay back against the pillow, caressing your cheek in his warm hand making you press against his fingers. “Look at you, looking better already, pretty girl!” He gushes, pecking your lips.
You gasped, covering your mouth. “Satoru! You can’t do that,” you huffed, grabbing a tissue to reach up and wipe his lips causing him to dodge it with a pout. “I have the flu, Toru’.” He shrugs, leaning back in to kiss you only to have the tissue meet his lips instead.
“Oh, so now you wanna be stingy?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his head to look away. “Not wanting to get you sick makes me the bad guy? Toru—“ he cut you off, standing abruptly. “Fine, if you don’t love me anymore—”
“Gojo, that’s not what I said.”
He gasped, “Oh. Last names. Cool, just rip my heart out and stomp on it,” you stare at him with a dropped jaw, watching your boyfriend fake distress as he struts to the door as dramatically as possible. “It’s fine, I’ll leave. I know when I’m not wanted!” He glances over his shoulder at you, blue eyes glistening and his glossy lips pulled down.
You can’t help but laugh, forcing your sore body up to stop him. “Cmon babe, you know I’m just saying it because I love you.” you go to stand, your hand immediately reaching out when the room spins. Satoru is by your side in seconds, cooing at you when you immediately crumble into his arms. “Sorry, my head feels dizzy.”
He lays you back down, shaking his head. “No baby, it’s no time for games. I’m sorry my love.” Through the years, you learned him well, quickly taking notice of the guilty look on his face. His attempt to cheer you up working but still stressing your weak body making his heart clench. “Don’t apologize, you meant well.” Your soft eyes made his cheeks flush and he couldn’t help but reach down to give you a sloppy kiss. “That doesn’t mean you can kiss me!” He rolls his eyes, forcing you to move over so he can hold you, your back pressed to his front as he whispers about how “his love will heal all.”
The position was nice until a particularly hot moment, making you let out a groan and shift uncomfortably. “Okay, I get you’re trying to be cute but if you don’t get off of me, I might get violent.” You sniffled, moving to put space between you. Satoru gasped before laying directly on top of you making you squeal, “that’s the point! Gotta sweat out the sickness with love, babe!”
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A/n; babes, I’m so sorry for being inactive. I’ve had no writing inspiration and haven’t been on here in a while so here’s some fluff</3 love you all;)
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angelltheninth · 9 months
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Heyo, I literally been trying to find your account for so long (my last one got deleted and I couldn't find yours) and I'm so happy I've found it again and especially at the time when your requests are open
Would I be allowed to request Miguel ohara being absolutely smitten with reader hcs? Idk like Smitten!Miguel or something 😭
Smitten like the kitten he is.
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, kissing, head over heals, playful biting, teasing, cuddles, purring, kissing against the wall, smitten!Miguel
A/N: Two Spiderverse posts today?! Yup!
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Smitten!Miguel who ends up staring at you rather then whatever mission report he's supposed to be reading through. For him you're the centerpiece of every room, you will draw his eyes to you the moment you walking and he'll be so caught up in looking at you that Lyla's voice will make him jump from his seat.
Smitten!Miguel who will laugh at your jokes no matter what, only your jokes. It would get really awkward if no one else laughs along with him, not that he cares, he wants you to know that he finds you funny and fun to be around, that you brighten up his day,
Smitten!Miguel who always puts you on missions with him so he can flirt with you. This implies both before and after your relationship turns romantic. When you're on missions he pays very close attention to you, he wants to know the full extent of your abilities. And... also make sure he can watch your back more efficiently.
Smitten!Miguel who starts purring when you put a hand on his lower back. It's one his very sensitive areas so any stimuli there will make him into a big softie. Don't you dare say that to anyone okay? You can touch him there all you want but he would die of embarrassment if anyone else knew he purrs from such a small gesture.
Smitten!Miguel who buys you gifts when there's absolutely no reason to. He can more then afford to spoil his sweetheart so don't worry about the amount of things he buys. There are many things that are matching but unless someone knew you both they'd never know you have matching accessories. It's like a cute little secret between the two of you.
Smitten!Miguel who leans his cheek in his palm and listens to you ramble on and on without interrupting once. He could listen to your voice for hours on end and never get tired. And don't even get him started on your laughter.
Smitten!Miguel who refuses to let go of you when you're cuddling. No you can't leave him, if you need to go anywhere he will carry you there but you can't let go just yet. He knows you don't want to leave either, you're just looking for an excuse for him to hold you tighter, closer, to carry you where ever you need to go. He's onto your tactics and he doesn't mind them working.
Smitten!Miguel who loves kissing you more then he would be willing to admit. He's always the one teasing you about starting the kiss but he's always the one who refused to let it end. He chases your lips with his, pulls and bites on your bottom lip until it's swollen and then pretends that he's very, very sorry so he could kiss it better. You're also onto him, but you don't complain.
Smitten!Miguel who pins you against the wall as a joke only to be unprepared by how cute you look like that. That cuteness is downright deadly. He has to make sure no one else falls victim to it but him, its his duty as a hero. So he will do this any chance he gets until it no longer has an effect on him... which will be never if him biting his lip whenever it happens are any clue.
Smitten!Miguel who lets you cup his cheeks in your hand whenever you feel like it. It calms him down so much to be touched so softly you have no idea. When you do this where other people might see, like his office he will always lock, he doesn't want anyone teasing him for going soft, Lyla already does more then enough of that.
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harmoonix · 10 months
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☁️Nostalgic Day Astrology Observations☁️
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~ When the heaven cries an angel dies ~
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✪ Pisces Placements/Moon are very sensitive souls, they can go through a lot of moods and they think that nobody understands them, these natives are the cutest when they are in a good mood
✪ Having a Leo moon/Moon in the 5th house makes you to be very outgoing and shinning out of your crowd, you really take life as a party and you have to live it at the fullest
✪ Air Moons [Aquarius, Gemini, Libra] have a really good connection to music and arts, they are feeling the music and breathing the music is something very hard to describe words but their feelings go insane when they listen music
✪ Your Venus return can be the most luckiest period of having luck in finding a partner, The Venus return is when Venus comes back into the sign you have it under your chart, for example you have Taurus Venus and when Venus comes back into Taurus's constellation there might be a lucky period of finding love
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✪ Venus aspecting Pluto or Saturn are devastated when they go through a breakup, these people can fall into depression or a deep mental state when they broke up but their rebith transformation is gonna be the biggest, when they heal there are no more tears to be left.
✪ The moon in your chart can repsent a drop from your past life, natives with the Moon in Scorpio or 8th house could have suffered the death loss of someone they really loved/it could be the mother or their partner
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Baby, I don't want no one, no one else
So hurry, 'cause I need some, need some, need some help
And I've been waitin' patient, patiently
'Cause I don't have you here with, here with, here with me
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
✪ Lilith - Moon aspects are classified as being the strongest aspects to find in a chart, because it can influence a lot of things both negatively and positively ways, it was a great power if you learn about them
✪ Venus is in detriment in Scorpio, so the planet of love doesn't get along very much with this sign and it can manifest though finding toxic partners or painful relationships, the lessons is to first love yourself then to love others [Vedic and Sidereal charts come in please because this applies to you very much]
✪ Mercury and Saturn aspects can have the fear to talk and can be very shy when you met them, they can be anxious about they talk thinking they have a bad voice but is not true at all, your voice is absolutely stunning no matter what other people say
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✪ Mars - Moon in harsh aspects can be pretty scary while being mad, their feelings and reactions are literally changing from hot to cold and back, they are very impulsive while being mad and can end up to scream and cry in the same time [minor Aspects applied the energy can still be felt 💁🏻‍♀️]
✪ Uranus quintile Venus can feel excited when they start to be in a relationship, is this little spark in their souls is feeling excited when they are in love and can often experience butterflies
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
But at least I have the memory
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✪ Venus - Moon aspects like to listen to music and make it a part of the lives, these natives enjoy the music based on how they feel at that moment and it can be a state of soul for them but also very eliberating, music heals their soul
✪ Neptune - Mercury/Venus aspects have a really encroaching voice, like a fresh breeze of air their voices are feeling so smooth and soft is literally so angelic
✪Venus in Earth Signs and Water Signs is literally the vibe of "I give you all my heart" and is so cute is literally so romantic and passionate, it also gives Venus in the 11th house vibes they love with their souls omg
✪ Never hurt a Venusian/Cancerian Moon please [Taurus, Libra, Cancer] they like to make memories and moments with the people they love and once you hurt someone like this they will delete all the memories with you and become harsh
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✪ Juno Asteroid [3] with Pisces influence (Pisces Degrees 12°, 24° or Juno in Pisces/12th house) can have a spouse who can seek for emotional and physical touch (Everything related to Pisces is so romantic)
✪ Juno asteroid [3] with Scorpio Influence (Scorpio Degrees 8°, 20° or Juno in Scorpio/8th house) can have a very possesive spouse, someone very protective aswell but also jealous with probably jealousy issues
✪ Juno Asteroid [3] with Virgo influence (Virgo Degrees 6°, 18° or Juno in Virgo/Juno in the 6th house) can have a very admirable spouse, their spouse can be hardworking and that can give then succes, also someone with a golden heart and very gentle
✪ Juno with Libra Influence [At Libra Degrees 7°, 19° or Juno in Libra/7th house) are the people who search for a harmonious relationship and seek balance for them, they want someone who can accept them and someone very romantic/passionate
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✪ Juno - Mars aspects can have a lot of passion and romantism in their relationship while also posesivness and conflicts/they can get jealous fast and very possesive of their spouse of vice versa
✪ Venus/Mercury rulling over the 8th house can make the native to be very sensual in voice either it's body, they really know how to touch someone's heart with their words and that can make other people to simp for them,Venus and Mercury signs in the 8th house are, Libra, Taurus and Gemini with Virgo.
✪ Venus in Fire signs [Aries, Sagittarius, Leo] fall to fast in love, for real they are like seeing someone and the next minute can end up crushing over that person but if they are ending up hurt in this process they are healing kinda slow
✪ In my opinion Lilith is the side of us who is sensual showing to people but True Lilith is our inner sensuality who only few can see or show
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
☁️ The weather is so chill today I like it so much in here, it reminded me of some nostalgia and had to make a post about this theme ☁️
💕 Hope everyone reading my notes has a good day full of light and good energy 💕
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dexlexia · 5 months
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dracule - mihawk x reader
pairing: dracule mihawk x reader rating: 18+ summary: Mihawk was a warlord of the sea. He was a feared swordsman, he crossed oceans and slayed anyone who got in his way. Mihawk was a strong man, the kind of man you didn't want to face alone in a fight and to be honest even having a crew by your side wouldn't help either. Fear would be an emotion you'd feel if you were faced with him. 
But you simply knew him as - ”Dracule!“  tags: fluff, smut, injured!reader, anime canon, sweet & cute, gentle sex, multiple positions
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Mihawk was a warlord of the sea. He was a feared swordsman, he crossed oceans and slayed anyone who got in his way. Mihawk was a strong man, the kind of man you didn't want to face alone in a fight and to be honest even having a crew by your side wouldn't help either. Fear would be an emotion you'd feel if you were faced with him. 
But you simply knew him as - ”Dracule!“ 
  ”Yes, my dear.“ He said as he came to the doorframe of the bedroom you both shared. In the centre of the bed lay your sick form. In all fairness you were for the most part fine, but the big bruise on your face said otherwise. 
It looked worse than it felt, but Mihawk was worried. The greatest swordsman was shaken by the fact that the person he loved had a bruise. He came closer and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached out to the side of your face that wasn't bruised. 
  ”It's cold.“ You pouted. 
He leaned in and kissed you softly on the lips, ”I will get you another blanket then.“ He knew you were playing it up a little, but the worrying guilt in his stomach made it hard for him to dismiss your whining. 
He got up and went to the chest near the far wall of the bedroom that was stuffed with extra blankets and pillows. He grabbed a nice quilt that he got in the northern islands. They could keep anyone warm.
  ”Here you go.“ He said as he laid out the blanket across you. But before he could turn to leave the room, you reached out and grabbed him on the arm.
  ”Stay?” You asked. 
He exhaled, “Perona and Zoro will be wondering why dinner hasn't been made yet.“ He turned to look at you, gold eyes scanned your body that was neatly tucked under three layers of blankets. 
  ”Well the strays can fend for themselves. I want my man.” You softly smiled at your own comment. Mihawk returned the smile before he got into bed with you. He was quick to make sure no heat escaped from under the blankets as he pulled you into his arms.
  “I guess so.” He replied as he caned his neck down to kiss your on the head. He was so soft in private. So caring and warm, while most thought he was a vampire you saw the heart beneath it all. To be a warlord meant to be stoic and unemotional, but behind closed doors Mihawk was a kind lover. 
He pulled away and lifted your chin to look him in the eyes, “How is your bruise?”
  “Better. Doesn't ache.” You replied. You were a little emabressed by how you got such a big bruise. It looked like someone took a lead pipe to your face. 
  “You could've broken something. Next time you want to clean the weaponry, please get myself or one of our strays to help. I'm pretty sure Roronoa would be happy to find *something* else to do with his time rather than lift weights and drink all my liquor.“
You blushed, ”I know, Dracule.“ You snuggled up closer to him and kissed his face. You felt content and even rubbed your legs together in the sheer happiness of being close to him. Your Dracule.
  ”I worry.“ He said, ”I know you are not a weak woman, but I brought you here to protect you. I don't want the things in our home posing a risk too.“ He pushed hair out of your face to keep it away from the healing bruise. 
  ”I'll always be okay, honey.“ You said as you tangled your legs with his and moved down to press your head against his clothed chest, ”Because you're here.“ 
  ”And I will be here until my last breath, my dear.” He leaned down to kiss you on the top of the head. He wrapped those arms tighter around you and held you close. You could hear his heartbeat and you pressed both hands against his chest. When you sighed constantly, he was able to do the same. 
There were not many things he held dear in this world but as he held you so close to him, he felt like everything worth fighting for was nestled in his arms. Despite being injured, you were as perfect as ever. A dream in his eyes. 
Eventually you moved further up the bed to look into his eyes. You reached out for him and placed a hand on his face. You rubbed your hand against his facial hair and you smiled at him. 
  ”My Dracule.“ You said, ”The bravest swordsman, the scary warlord. But I could never be afraid of you.“ You leaned in and kissed him on the lips. 
  ”And I will do everything in my power to never make you afraid of me. I care for you too deeply, my soul is tied with yours in this world and the next. I will fight in my dying breath to protect you.“ 
You felt the heat rise into your cheeks from his endearing words. He sounded like an old poet when he spoke, but the low rumble of his voice paired with the closeness to you made you feel more loved then with any other man. 
You kissed again, and he held onto you tighter. So close, so intimate that it left a swirl of warmth in your gut. When you pulled away from his lips you went to his ear and asked, ”I want to be closer, Dracule.“ 
  ”Then closer we shall be.” He replied as he started to unbutton his shirt. He watched you with careful eyes as you undressed as well. He observed every mark on your skin. He breathed deeply through his nose as he continued to get undressed. 
Soon you were both nude. Your hands explored his body, the expanse of muscle and the admiring every mark on his body. Even though the scars were old, you could see them faintly. You pressed another kiss against his lips and felt your heart flutter in your chest. It was a euphoric feeling, the ability to be so close to him. 
He was godsent. He placed a hand on your ass and gave it a firm squeeze as you two kissed. It got warmer under the covers as the two of you felt each other up. He groaned into the kiss when you softly touched his cock. 
He shuddered when you grasped onto it and gave a firm stroke. But he quickly deepened the kiss and continued to passionately make out with you. The heat in the room rose as he explored your body with his soft hands. 
Despite his use of a sword he always kept his hands so soft. But they were strong and his grip could be bruising. You moaned into the kiss as he grabbed your ass once more and massaged the cheek with his palm.
  “Does that feel good?" He asked, “Do you like that?”
 “I love it, Dracule.” You moaned into the kiss. When you pulled away you kicked the covers to the bottom of the bed and wrapped your leg around his waist as you continued to feverishly make out with you.
Mihawk loved when you liked this. A normal poised, in control woman succumbed to the deep desire of her lover. It was almost endearing how badly you wanted him. He knew your heart was racing. 
  “You look divine.” He said as he held onto the thigh that was at his waist and stroked the warm soft skin. He traced patterns into your skin while the two of you kissed. The soft sounds of your kissing filled the room. 
  “Dracule.” 
  “Mmm, yes.” 
His touch became more aggressive the more you made out. And soon he was moving you onto his lap with his cock pressed against your ass. His hands at your hips, he rubbed circles into your left hip with his thumb as you adjusted yourself onto his lap. 
  “You look divine too.” 
  “Thank you.” He said, he tensed up as you raised your hips and seated yourself onto his cock. He held onto your hips tightly as you got comfortable. He exhaled deeply but it got caught in his throat however when you started to move your hips.
  ”Like that?“ You asked.
  ”Yes, you are doing perfect.“ He replied as he moved his hips. He rolled them against you as you moved in return. His heat raced in his chest as he felt your tight heat around his cock. He tried to hold back his noises for the sake of the others in the castle but that plan was soon abandoned when the pleasure became insurmountable as you continued to move up and down his length.
  ”Ah!“ You moaned, ”Dracule.“ You placed both hands on his toned chest to keep yourself stable as you rode him. You moaned and moved your hips as you felt the pleasure well up in your gut. You loved having sex with Dracule, it was an intense feeling that you couldn't put words to. 
He looked at you with such tenderness, such commitment to his cause. The cause of loving you, to be a loyal man to you. You leaned down and kissed him once more as you rolled your hips. You were a tight fit around him, but he found the feeling quite amazing. 
Pleasure roamed through both of your bodies as you passionately made out. Like two halves of the same whole, a perfect fit for one another. You felt your heat hammer in your chest as you continued to move with Mihawk matching your pace. The kiss deepened as you moved. 
The pleasure was an immense feeling, the sounds of sex filled the room ad most likely bothering your other guests. But in that moment neither of you cared, you only wanted one another. You only wanted the rush of pleasure that came from being in bed with the warlord himself. 
  ”You are a gift.“ He said, ”The gift I want to unwrap over and over again and devour your bearings. I want to worship where you stand and be loyal till I am nothing more than a pile of bones.“
You smiled and pressed your forehead to his while you continued to move your hips, “Good thing, Dracule.” He said, “I'm not going anywhere.”
  “Excellent.“ He said as he kissed you once more. He groaned against your lips as he matched your pace. His cock was nudging against your sweet spot as you both felt the wash of pleasure over both of you.  ”A sight to behold.“ He added as he pressed his forehead against yours. His breathing was ragged. He could feel the sweat on his body as he held you against him. 
  ”Dracule.“ You said in a slightly higher voice as you felt the curl of orgasm in your gut. The overwhelming feeling of pleasure.
  "I am not going anywhere, dear.' He said, ”As you say, we are stuck together.“ He grabbed you by the hair and held your head back as he gazed into your eyes with devotion. 
  ”Please.“ You said.
  ”Always.“ He replied as he quickly moved you over so you were on your stomach with your ass in the air, facing him. He sank into you once more, the pleasure still swirled in his gut. He watched you grip the pillow as he started to fuck you. 
You moaned into the soft pillow under your head as he moved quickly against you. The slapping sound of sex was dominant in the room as he made quick work to make you orgasm. 
With another hard thrust, he finished inside of you but kept the pace of his thrusts until you came as well. Then slowly his pace ended and he pulled out. He grabbed you in his arms and laid in bed with you. Your bare bodies are exposed to the cooling bedroom air. 
  ”How was that?" He asked, “Does your face hurt?”
  “No, no, Dracule. Everything is perfect.' You sighed contently in his arms. You felt at peace, even in the care of the most feared swordsman. He may be Mihawk to most, but to you he will always be - “Dracule~”
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blckbrdlove · 10 months
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someone else lights up the room
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paring: eren jeager x reader
summary: it’s mid-september and eren’s falling in love for the first time in his whole life. too bad for mikasa, it isn’t with her, but with you.
genre: fluff, smut, slight angst (just in case)
notes: well pals! here she is!! my long, long awaited re-write for this series. a lot of this will seem familiar to those who read this part when i first posted this series, but there is some new stuff we haven’t read yet as well! after this part, almost everything we see will be new to all of us. i am very happy to get this out and to hear everyone’s thoughts on the re-write. reblogs and comments are much, much appreciated. please give me any and all feedback you may have. i know i put it off, and missed lots of deadlines i promised you guys, but i have put my whole heart into her. i am very excited to get this whole series out and completed to you guys, which will all be posted (hopefully) before the end of august.  title credits; nothing new; taylor swift ft. phoebe bridgers
warnings: MINORS DNI, angst, fluff, meet cute, eren is a hopeless romantic, eren is a gentleman, eren is a sweet boy, eren falls in love with reader basically at first sight and has been smitten with her ever since, reader recently got out of a toxic relationship and is still healing- but is also very smitten with eren, unrequited love (mikasa), mentions of creampie, jealousy, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving)
word count: 8k
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Eren spots you from across the courtyard walking with your little blonde friend after his final class for the day. It makes him stop and completely tune out whatever Mikasa is trying to talk to him about regarding their upcoming applications for medical school that are due in a few weeks.
You’ve got on a little light blue floral dress that shows off your legs and collar bones beautifully, and paired with some strappy white sandals that show off the pretty polish on your toenails.
It makes him wonder if your skin is as soft as it looks from this distance. He bets it is, and he bets you smell really good, too.
Your friend says something that makes you laugh, the sound bringing a half grin on Eren’s own face as his heart stutters in his chest.
Mikasa looks up to see if he’s paying attention, quickly taking notice of the gleam in his eyes and half smile beginning to take up his face. It almost makes her smile before she realizes he isn’t even paying attention to her.
Her gaze follows the direction of his, quickly noticing you walking in their direction with your friend’s arm linked through yours.
She quickly frowns, being unfortunately reminded of the deep infatuation that Eren has with you that began during last spring’s semester. Honestly, the first time he talked about you, she thought you were an idiot, being the only junior in a freshman level chemistry class and barely passing. She often wondered if Eren tweaked your grades on the papers and exams he graded as Professor Hange’s TA, not that she would ever admit that to him.
Annie had been the one to inform him that you had a boyfriend, and had been with said boyfriend since high school, her knowing from not only going to high school with you and your friends but having been in the same friend group before she broke up with Bertholdt. Apparently her friendship wasn’t as valued to you guys as his was and she made her quick exit and found herself in their little friend group now, thanks to her and Armin’s relationship, if you could even call it that currently.
Discovering your relationship didn’t quell Eren’s interest a bit, and he asked Annie to tell him everything she knew about you, which was actually quite a bit despite not being very close to you.
Annie met you through your, now ex, boyfriend Porco Galliard. You were a cheerleader and top of your class at Marley Prep and you have stupid rich parents who fund your whole lifestyle and want you to be the happiest you can be.
In Mikasa’s mind, you just really aren’t the type of person she think Eren would be happy with. Sure, his family is well off, but your parents, from what she knows, are on a whole different level, and you seem shallow.
She ends up so lost in thought she doesn’t even hear Armin walk up and start a conversation with them, going off about some party that Annie said she was going to tonight and hinted that she’d like to see him there if he was available.
“Armin, not that I mind going with you, but I’m not sure why you need me to go with you?” Eren spoke with slight confusion.
Armin looks between Eren and Mikasa, “I’ll just feel better if the two of you are there with me,”
Eren’s gaze turns soft when he notices how tense Armin is, how nervous he actually is at the thought of joining Annie at this party. Mikasa speaks up before Eren can respond, “We have a really, really important lab tomorrow, but as long as we aren’t out too late we can come.”
It almost upsets Eren at how definitive her answer is, how she’s decided for them that they need to be home at a certain time, that he needs to be home at a certain time. He isn’t a child, and he’s getting tired of all the coddling he gets between Mikasa and his mother.
“Lab isn’t until 9 anyway, so we don’t have to be home that early anyway.”
Armin throws his arms around his two best friends, mumbling quick thank you’s and you guys are the best.
εїз
Eren doesn’t exactly hate parties, but he didn’t particularly want to be here tonight. He’s under a lot of stress with his applications for early acceptance to his top medical school choices being due soon and his mom has been on his ass about coming to visit, which he typically doesn’t mind doing but before returning to campus for this last year at university, he and his dad got into a huge fight over where he’d be going to school and residencies and all the bullshit he didn’t want to deal with, especially since he still hasn’t told his dad that he doesn’t know if he plans on going to medical school.
But there isn’t a thing in the world he wouldn’t do for Armin, and if Armin needs him here for moral support, then he’s here.
Grabbing a cup and putting who knows what is in it, he turns around to make his way back to the living room to find his friends when he stumbles into another body. Reaching for your wrist, nearly dropping his cup in the process, he helps steady your body as his eyes widen slightly realizing just who it is he just ran into.
You’re slightly more intoxicated than you’d typically like to be, but after spending the afternoon watching your phone blow up with text after text from Porco before you finally had to buckle down and block him, again, over some of the hateful things he had sent you, all you wanted to do was drink and forget about the stupid break up, which paired perfectly with the fact that Hitch had wanted to come to this party and stalk Marlo.
Eren’s eyes trail up your figure, taking in all of you. Tonight you’re wearing dark wash jeans that compliment you in all the right places, light rips line the area of your thighs. The denim comes up and rests perfectly on your hips, while the light pink top you have on hugs your chest in a way that Eren knows if he looks for too long, his own jeans will start to get tight, with the amount of cleavage your showing on top of the way it clings to you.
Your own eyes look over him, taking in his pairing of dark wash jeans and a plain black shirt that clings to his muscles just right. He’s got nice hair too, you note to yourself, and it’s thrown into a sexy messy bun. You can’t help but wonder if it’s as soft as it looks.
The two of you make eye contact and it feels like his eyes are trying to find your soul with how deeply he’s looking at you.
Your staring is interrupted by Hitch, who stumbles in and grabs your free wrist with a giddy look in her eyes, “You won’t believe who just got here,” And just like that, you’re pulled away from him and into the crowd of people.
Hitch drags you over to your other two friends. Historia is sitting on Ymir’s lap as the latter is whispering, what you can only assume, dirty words in her ear. The way Historia is fidgeting in her girlfriend’s lap with her lip between her teeth makes you fairly sure that the two won’t be here for much longer.
You look at Hitch with a raised eyebrow and tilt your head back to the two of them in question. “Reiner is here.” Distaste fills your features at the mention of the blond brute as you hum before taking Historia’s cup from her and drinking the bitter, clean liquid.
“Vodka? Yuck.” Your face is scrunched up as you close your eyes and drink the remainder of the drink. You look back at Hitch, “No Pieck?”
Hitch frowns at the mention of the dark haired girl and shakes her head, not knowing why you would even bother to ask.
Pieck wasn’t initially your friend, she was his friend, but she quickly embedded herself into your friend group after you had started dating him. Hitch never really liked her, to be fair Hitch doesn’t really like anyone, in fact she always thought Pieck had tried a little too hard to be your friend, always looked at you a little too long. There had been multiple occasions where the shorter girl would lace her fingers with yours when she thought no one was paying attention, or Hitch would find her sending a heated glare in Proco’s direction when he would cling to you in front of her.
And it’s not like she’s even been around since the monumental breakup that occurred in June. Sending all of your calls to voicemail and neglecting the group chat before Ymir had enough and finally just kicked her out completely.
Needless to say, Hitch thought Pieck was fucking weird. But what she thought was weirder was that after you and Porco broke up, she completely ghosted not only the group- which Hitch could’ve excused- but you as well. Hitch couldn’t care less about Pieck not wanting to stay friends with her, but what bothered her was how hurt you were over it.
Sure, you have herself, Historia, and Ymir. Hitch has been your best friend since first grade and has never been anything less than your rock. Always there when you need her and never letting you down. And Historia joined the two of you, turning your duo into a trio in sixth grade when you and Hitch decided to join the cheer squad for middle school, and you met Historia at tryouts. The three of you made the squad and the rest was history.
When Ymir started dating Historia freshman year of college, she quickly learned how much you and Hitch meant to her, and in turn, as long as it was in her means, if you needed anything she was there.
But Pieck’s different, she’s no Historia, and she’s definitely no Hitch, but she’s Pieck and you hold a lot of love for her. And you were absolutely heartbroken that when you called her after the huge final blowout between you and Porco and she didn’t answer.
Sure, Hitch and Historia know how bad your relationship was, they know everything, but Pieck was the only one who saw how bad it was. It killed you to know she didn’t care enough to even just answer or send you a stupid text despite everything.
As if she can sense your mood dampening, Hitch grabs your hands, smiling wide and giddy again as she remembers why she drug you out of the kitchen in the first place, “You will not believe who is here!”
You roll your eyes playfully as you turn to give her your full attention so she can talk all about Marlo, not even noticing the eyes that can’t stop looking in your direction.
Across the room Eren stands with Mikasa and Armin, the blonde nearly sweating through his light blue button up shirt. Despite trying to calm him down, Mikasa can tell Eren’s mind is elsewhere. He keeps glancing across the room.
Following his eyes, Mikasa’s land on you with your friends and she has to fight an eyeroll, already irritated with being here.
Despite thinking his crush was stupid, hollow even, she couldn’t deny that she’ll never forget how upset she had been when she overheard Eren talk about you with Armin, the former had told him that you were probably the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
When she looked up your instagram later that same night, her stomach knotted as she noticed just how pretty you looked in all your photos, how put together you always seemed. Mikasa’s never really been insecure over girls Eren had brought in and out over the years, but you were just a different story.
Armin seems to finally catch on to the fact that Eren isn’t paying attention to his nervous ranting.
“Eren! Hello?” Armin finally snaps him out of trance, Eren looking at him briefly before looking back over at you, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” He tells him off handedly, gaze still on you. You have a bright smile on your face as Hitch says something, he assumes, is funny.
“You should just go talk to her,” Armin finally tells him with an exasperated sigh, which causes both Eren and Mikasa’s heads to snap towards him.
“Why would I do that?” “Why would he do that?” Eren’s eyes meet Mikasa’s as she blushes harshly under his gaze that holds deep offense.
Armin looks between the two before he clears his throat awkwardly, “I mean it’s not like she has a boyfriend anymore or anything. Worst case scenario she ignores you,”
Eren nods before frowning slightly, “Yeah, but I almost knocked her down in the kitchen and didn’t even apologize,”
Armin looks at him with wide eyes, almost gasping, “You mean to tell me you finally had a chance to talk to her? And you didn’t?”
Another offended look is on Eren’s face in an instant, “How do you know I didn’t talk to her?”
Armin scoffs as he rolls his eyes at Eren’s question, “Well, actually, I know you. And I know for a fact that you didn’t talk to her because you wouldn’t be over here with us talking about her, you’d be over there with her. And I also know that even if talking to her didn’t work out, you still would’ve said something about it.”
Mikasa frowns again, “But aren’t we supposed to be here to support you, Armin? I mean you’re a nervous wreck.” Armin gives her a weird side eye, and frowns lightly at her behavior.
“I mean I have you here, and Jean and Connie are here if all else fails?” Though he says it as if it’s a question, Mikasa knows the question is why she’s being so defensive about Eren talking to you.
“I think it’ll be fine,” Armin turns back to Eren, giving him a nervous grin, “Just go talk to her1 Annie’s here already anyway.”
Eren nods to himself, and then looks between Armin and Mikasa with a half grin that makes Mikasa want to melt into a puddle. “Wish me luck.”
As Eren makes his way across the room towards you, Mikasa can’t help but frown as she starts to compare herself to you. The outfit you’ve got on compliments your body so nicely, while her ripped black jeans and black tank top do nearly nothing for her own figure. You’re also pretty outgoing, while Mikasa can barely hold a conversation with anyone who she hasn’t known since high school without cringing at herself.
The glitter that frames your eyes is also a deep contrast from the black liner that is smudged around her own, your hair is nicely styled with a pretty silver butterfly clip holding some of it back while Mikasa’s hair is at an awkward stage of nearly outgrown because she hasn’t had a chance to go get it trimmed since coming back to school.
She also has bags starting to form under her eyes, the long nights of studying getting to her. Choosing pre-med as her major in an attempt to stay close to Eren starting to bite her in the ass since it comes a lot easier for him, so he doesn’t have to study as much.
Jean and Connie join Armin and Mikasa once they notice Annie in the kitchen. Connie walks up behind Armin and wraps his arm around him, getting close to his ear so he can give him a pep talk on how to woo Annie. Armin grumbles back that he doesn’t need his help, but when Sasha bounces over, she gets on Armin’s other side and tells him that Connie means well, just take his advice!
Jean stands awkwardly next to Mikasa, who has yet to take her eyes off of Eren. Her eyes finally avert to Jean when he starts talking.
“You look really nice tonight, Mikasa,” She has a slight frown on her face, but she mumbles back a small thanks as she bites her lip. She looks like she does every day, and she wants to tell him that, but instead she gives him a fake smile that she knows he can see right though and asks him if he wants to go find something to drink. He has an idea of what she’s trying to do but smiles softly and tells her to lead the way.
As the two of them make their way to the kitchen, Mikasa takes another glance towards your direction, stomach dropping even more when she takes note that Eren’s standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets.
Hitch had been going on about Marlo and how handsome she think he is for the past twenty minutes; Ymir is about five minutes away from taking Historia up to a bathroom, and you’ve had probably one too many solo cups full of vodka when Eren made his way to you, hands in his pockets and a boyish half smile on his face.
Hitch cuts herself off mid-sentence when she takes note of the six foot two man towering over the couch you occupy, eyebrows raised as she looks between the two of you with a sparkle in her eye once she realizes his eyes are strictly on you.
Your own eyes are wide with drunken curiosity as you look at him. “I know you!” Your voice makes Eren smile slightly as you continue, “You bumped into me in the kitchen, right?”
Eren winces and lets out an awkward laugh, “Uh, yeah. I just wanted to come over and apologize, I had meant to earlier but was a little distracted.”
His heart sputters when you let out a soft giggle, “Oh, don’t worry about it! Parties can get distracting. Though, I’d hate to think you’ve spent this whole party thinking about apologizing instead of actually enjoying yourself,”
Though there’s a teasing glint in the smile on your face and in your tone, your eyes tell him you’re genuinely worried he spent the whole party worrying about the fact that he ran into you.
“Oh, uh no. Well I mean I was distracted by you, but” His eyes widen once he realizes what he said, while Hitch has to hold back laughter at the man in front of her turning red.
“You were distracted by me?” Your tone is slightly disbelieving, and your eyes have a certain shine in them that he doesn’t quite recognize but the look on your face has his own flushing even more.
Unbeknownst to the both of you, Ymir and Historia have pulled away from each other and make eye contact with Hitch, whose eyes are gleefully wide as she looks between them over your head. Historia is a little confused due to the amount of liquor she’s drank in such little, but Ymir catches on pretty quickly to what Hitch is getting at and reaches across Historia to tell you that they’re gonna head out and they’ll see you later. Historia looks confused and goes to protest but a quick look from Ymir has her quiet despite her confusion.
Waving bye to your friends, Hitch looks across the room and her eyes land on Marlo, she looks back at Eren with a coy smirk, “Keep an eye on her for me, yeah?” and before he can answer she’s up and gone.
You and Eren sit in a semi-awkward silence for a few moments before he speaks up, “Do you want another drink?” He cringes at his question and silently prays that you don’t think the worst, that he’s just trying to get you drunk.
“Actually, I think I’ve had enough to drink, but maybe we can go sit outside or something?” He nods, an excited look in his eyes that makes you smile brightly. He reaches his hand out to you, and you take it, smiling wider as he helps you up and puts an arm around your back to take you outside. Neither of you notice the heated glare in Mikasa’s eyes as she watches from the kitchen.
It’s a lot more comfortable outside, you’re able to breathe and hear a lot  better. He sits next to you on the ground up against the rough brick of the house as the two of you spend nearly the next hour talking about whatever comes to mind.
Eren asks a lot about you, what you like, what your favorite food is, why your favorite song is your favorite song, asks about your major. He tells you that he thinks you look like an art major, which in turn you tell him you didn’t expect him to be in pre-med, which he laughs lightly as he nods in agreement, telling you it definitely wasn’t his first choice. You don’t ask him to elaborate, which he’s thankful for.
Mikasa frowns from her spot next to Sasha as Eren makes his way back over to the group, you shyly behind him with your fingers laced through his. Armin smiles and has to refrain from sending a thumbs up towards Eren once he notices you’re with him. Annie smiles, what Mikasa would consider her most genuine smile, and waves at you. Mikasa nearly forgot that the two of you used to be good friends at one point.
Mikasa tunes out the rest of the group as Eren explains that he’s gonna head out, you’re getting tired, and he wants to make sure you get home safe. He’s got that boyish smile on his face, and Mikasa watches how you’ve got a blinding grin on your own face, eyes not leaving him as he speaks to his friends.
Jean watches Mikasa’s eyes water slightly as Eren sticks his hand in your back pocket as the two of you walk away. Her watery eyes meeting his as she silently begs for him to make the pain go away.
εїз
Eren has you pinned up against the front door to his apartment before it can even slam shut behind you. Your chest pushed up against the door as his hands work their way up and down your sides under your shirt, teasing the underside of your breast as he grinds his erection into your ass as your back arches.
His left hand moves your hair to the side so he can suck on your neck while his right hand reaches for the button of your jeans, making quick work of getting them undone and slipping his hand into your panties. His middle finger makes quick work in circles on your clit, making you gasp in surprise and reach up with you right hand and grab at the back of his head, tangling your fingers his soft brown hair.
The light pull of your fingers causes him to groan and bite down on your neck, causing you to gasp in surprise.
He pulls his hand out of your pants and moves both hands to the hem of your jeans and begins to pull them down. His husky voice in your ear makes you moan out loud when he tells you how badly he wants to taste you.
His body follows his hands as he pulls your jeans down to your ankles, slapping your ass lightly before he spreads your cheeks so he can get a nice view of your cunt, and he groans when he sees how fucking wet you are.
His thumb finds your clit and he puts just the slightest bit of pressure, but somehow it’s enough to make you let out a soft moan of pleasure, causing him to smirk.
“Yeah, you like that, baby?” You nod and moan louder as he puts more pressure, rubbing harsh circles as he leans forward and dips his tongue into you. He groans at your taste, and he takes his thumb away from your clit so he can use both hands to pull your body closer to his face.
“God you taste so fucking good,” His words make you blush, but he gives you no time to respond, his tongue finding its way back to your clenching hole.
“Ohmygod,” You can’t contain the gasp of pleasure that leaves you as your right hand reaches around to hold his head in place as he continues fucking his tongue in and out of you, hands gripping your hips tightly to keep you as close to his face as he possibly can, breathing be damned.
His tongue alternates between fucking your hole and licking at your clit. His left hand moves from your hip to your cunt, and he sticks two fingers inside you as he continues licking at your clit. He groans at your tightness around his fingers, that with the addition of the taste of you driving him insane.
“Er-eren!” You yelp out his name as his fingers make quick work of finding your g-spot, you feel him smirk against you once he feels the spongey spot. Fingering you faster, his mouth moves back to your clit, and he puckers his lips around it and begins to harshly suck on it.
The feeling is too much, you feel like you can’t breathe. His fingers repeatedly hitting your g-spot, and his mouth harshly sucking on your clit has you cumming before you even realize it.
“Eren, ah! Fuck, I-I’m cumming,” You moan out, trying to warn him so he can pull away if he wants. But he somehow manages to keep surprising you.
“That’s right baby, you fucking cum for me.” Curling his fingers slightly harder against your g-spot, his free hand grips your hip harder to hold you in place as your body starts to tremble as your orgasm washes over you. He doesn’t pull his fingers away until you’re nearly sobbing from the stimulation against your g-spot, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of your clenching hole.
He smirks as you gasp, one hand still clinging to his head while the other hold the trim by the door for dear life. Slightly leaning forward, he licks your cunt one last time in a harsh strip from your clit up, momentarily sneaking his tongue back in you one last time for good measure.
Pulling away from you, he stands back up, slowly pulling your underwear back up. Giving your ass a light tap, he bends back down and lifts your legs up one at a time at your knees to help you pull your jeans off of your ankles. Eren folds and lays them on the end table by the front door before he makes his way back over to you, who’s now turned around, face flushed and facing him with legs still slightly shaking.
He smiles at you once his hands find their place back on your hips, mouth meeting yours in a kiss that makes you gasp in surprise, but your arms quickly make their way around his neck. Licking your bottom lip, he lifts you enough to where you can wrap your legs around his waist so he can walk you to his room. His tongue works its way into your mouth, causing you to moan slightly around it as he continues kissing you until he reaches his room and sits you on the edge of the bed.
You look at him confused when he makes his way over to his closet, pulling out an old black band t-shirt. It’s faded, but well taken care of. Your eyebrows furrow when he hands it to you and makes his way to his dresser, pulling out a pair of grey sweatpants and changing into them, leaving the t-shirt he was wearing off.
“Did you not want to…” Your voice trails off as you look at him with furrowed brows as he makes his way back over to you, fighting hard to keep your eyes off of his naked chest. He crouches down so your eye level, and he frowns when he sees the slight insecurity swimming in your eyes.
Reaching a hand up, he caresses your face and rubs his thumb just under your eye before he lightly pulls your face to his, kissing you again. This kiss is much lighter than the previous one, softer, he’s being much gentler. When he pulls away you frown slightly, leaning forward for more but he stops you.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, trust me when I say I do want to. Like, very badly.” He huffs out a laugh through his nose, the furrow in your brow slightly deepening in a silent question, “But I also happen to enjoy you very much, and I’d like to take you out properly, ya know?” He blushes deeply as he says it, but the smile on your face brings a huge grin to his own.
Reaching forward, you wrap your arms back around him, pushing your face into his neck as a small sigh leaves your mouth, “I think you might be very good for me,” Eren hears you whisper as you nuzzle your face into his neck. Eren lets out a soft but genuine laugh as he pulls your body closer to his, hoping you’re right. Hoping he might just be good enough for you.
εїз
Mikasa looks around Jeans room, trying to stay as far away from him as possible in his full size bed, and she can’t help but wonder what you and Eren are doing right now.
Regret starts building deep in her gut as she realizes what she’s done with Jean will not only change the dynamic between the two of them, but also the fact that Armin is going to be so fucking disappointed in her once he realizes she only slept with Jean because she was upset Eren left with you.
Carefully crawling out of his bed, she quickly finds her phone and clothes before getting dressed and quietly leaving Jeans room.
Guilt is swirling in her stomach as she walks as quickly and quietly as she can out of his apartment and makes her way up a few flights of stairs to the one she shares with Armin and Eren.
She prays to herself that Armin and Annie decided to go back to Annie’s place, so they don’t have to see the disgusted look she has on her face. Disgust with herself, disgust with the fact that Jean let her use him, disgust with the fact that that the more she walks, the more she can feel Jean’s cum leaking out of her. Her disgust is quickly overcome by even more guilt as she unlocks the front door to the apartment.
Guilt is a terrible feeling, it’s nothing compared to the heartbreak she feels as she’s walking towards her room. Because the last thing she expected when she walked past the bathroom was to see Eren holding you up on the counter by the sink as he attempts to wipe the glitter off of your eyes.
He’s got that stupid smile on his face as he whispers for you to keep your eyes shut, he’s almost done. He holds your head at the nape of your neck gently with one hand while the other makes work of carefully rubbing your eye.
You’re mumbling incoherently, sleep lacing your voice as you hold your arms around his neck, head following wherever his hand guides it.
Out of the corner of his eye, Eren notices Mikasa’s disheveled appearance, while he doesn’t make a comment one it, she notices the way he raises his eyebrow in surprise.
She wishes she could say something to defend herself, but her gaze is too caught on you. The way he holds you tenderly makes her stomach turn, he’s so careful and gentle as he caresses your face, it makes her frown in envy.
“We’re almost done, you can have the bathroom in a minute,” Eren tells her softly, and she hates that she knows his soft words aren’t for her benefit but your own. She watches as he does a quick glance over your face one last time before he throws away the makeup wipes from a brand she didn’t recognize, watches as he gently lifts you at your hips to wrap your legs around his waist and how your face instantly makes its way to his neck in an almost natural way.
“Night, Mikasa,” Eren whispers and smiles when he hears you mumble a soft night of your own. “Good night, Eren,” Her voice isn’t above a whisper either, so he doesn’t hear her voice crack as he shuts his bedroom door, leaving her in the soft yellow glow of the bathroom light, alone.
Despite all the negative and harsh thoughts running through her mind, all she can focus on is the fact that Eren had let you wear his favorite shirt.
εїз
Eren’s been awake for nearly fifteen minute, he knows he should probably wake you up too. He has a class in a little over an hour, and if he waits too much longer to get up, Mikasa will come to get him like she always does when he sleeps in.
But he can’t bring himself to care, not when you’re lying next to him making that old ass ‘the cure’ t-shirt look as good as you currently are.
He can’t help but admire you. You just look so perfect.
“You’re staring.” Eren flinches in surprise at your words, not realizing that you’ve already woken up.
“I’m gazing,” You peek an eye open at his words, a half-smile making its way onto your face at his cheesiness.
“It’s creepy.” He scoffs at you, leaning his face so close to your own that your noses are touching. “I think it’s pretty romantic.”
A hum leaves you as your raise your eyebrows at him, eyes closing slightly as you lean closer to him, lips nearly touching his, “Romantic you say?”
He sighs, nodding as his eyes refuse to leave yours, “Definitely romantic.”
Just as he’s about to lean in to seal the deal, a loud knock at his door causes the two of you to pull away from each other, “Eren, get up. We have class in a little more than an hour. I will not be late again to one of Hange’s classes because of you.”
He groans, head falling right next to your shoulder, “Yeah. Thanks, Mikasa,”
A laugh leaves your mouth, causing Eren to grin, “What time is it anyway?”
Eren reaches for his phone, clicking it on, “9:15,”
You groan loudly in despair. “I have class at 10:30,” The pout on your face almost has Eren asking if you want to skip and go get breakfast. Almost. But when you reach for your phone and sit up he decides against it.
He watches you scroll through your phone for a minute, not peeking at whatever you’re doing so he doesn’t seem like a creep. You’ve still got a little bit of glitter on your face from last night, and Eren inwardly cringes at the fact that he couldn’t get all of it off.
He likes the way you look in his bed, not to get ahead of himself but he definitely thinks that waking up with you a few days a week is something he could get used to.
Hopefully, next time you guys will have time to go get breakfast though, or maybe if it’s a weekend, you could get brunch.
Eren’s thoughts leave his mind when you look back over at him, a soft smile on your face, “Any chance I can get you to give me a ride home on your way to campus?”
“Yeah, yeah of course.” He tries not to sound too excited at the thought of you sitting in his passenger seat. You mumble out a soft thank you as you watch him get out of bed and make his way towards his closet, leaning your head in the palm of your hand as you admire the way his back muscles move and flex when he pulls a black t-shirt over his head.
“What class do you have this morning?” He asks, with genuine curiosity, you look away to give him some sort of privacy as he takes off his sweatpants and underwear so he can put on a pair of dark wash jeans and new briefs.
“Oh, um, it’s an advanced sketching class. Nothing special.” Running your fingers through your hair, you stand up and look around his room for your jeans.
Eren turns back around as he’s buttoning his pants up, smiling when he finds you standing awkwardly without pants on. “Your pants are in the living room,”
A half-grin is on your lips when you make eye contact with him and nod. “Right, I forgot.”
“Forgot I ate you up against my front door last night?” He’s cheeky, and it makes your body heat up as you bite your lip to stop a smile from showing you enjoy his teasing. Reaching over, you lightly slap his arm and mumble for him to get his head out of the gutter, to which he gives you a cheeky smile and a peck on the cheek in relation.
Mikasa is sitting on the couch in the living room when the two of you walk out, and she has to fight looking at you too long once she notices you still aren’t wearing pants. Just that stupid t-shirt that Eren’s been attached to ever since he found it at some local thrift store when they were fourteen.
You smile and send her a small wave, getting a blank look in return that makes you frown slightly. Eren appears in front of you, holding your jeans with that same boyish grin on his face. “I think your shoes are still in my car,” A small okay leave your mouth as your slide your jeans on, not really caring for modesty at the moment since everyone in the room has already seen you without pants on.
Eren holds your phone and keys out to you, “I, uh, couldn’t find your shirt or the clip you had in your hair last night.” As he scratches the back of his neck, you have to refrain from ogling his biceps as they flex. “Oh, uh, that’s okay,”
Before either of you can say anything else, Mikasa clears her throat, “I hate to interrupt, but we have a class to get to.”
Eren gives her a weird look at the tone she uses and the look she’s giving you. “Actually, we’re taking a detour. We’re going to drop her off at her place first.”
She frowns and looks over you under her nose now that she’s standing, before giving him another look, “Eren, we seriously can’t be late again.”
You finally decide to speak up, “I can always get an uber-“
“I think that would be for the best.” “Absolutely not!”
You look awkwardly between the two of them as they glare at each other, feeling extremely out of place. You give Eren an uncomfortable look, “Really, I can find my own way home,”
Eren lets out a scoff, his eyes softening as he looks at you again, “It’s really not a big deal. And if she has such a problem with it, she can take a bus.”
Mikasa lets out a noise of disbelief grumbling a whatever, sending you a sharp glare as she storms to her room to grab her bag.
She can’t fucking believe him, how dare he? She’s been nothing but good to him for twenty-two years and this is what she gets in return? Over some random girl who didn’t even know his fucking name twenty-four hours ago?
The car ride to your apartment from theirs consists of an extremely awkward fourteen minutes, not that you were counting. Mikasa had sent you another intense glare when you went to sit in the front, practically forcing you to sit in the back and ignored you the whole time, talking over you anytime you tried to respond when Eren spoke to you.
You have to refrain from letting a huge sigh of relief leave you once the car stops in front of your building. Eagerly getting out of the car, you don’t even notice Eren quickly stumbling out of the driver’s seat as he tries to catch up with you.
“Hey! Hey, wait up!” His voice makes you halt your steps, turning around to look at him. “I’m really sorry about you, I don’t think she had a great night last night and-”
“You don’t owe me an explanation, Eren,” You don’t mean to interrupt, but he really doesn’t owe you any sort of explanation.
Slightly frowning he responds, “Well, I know. I, I just had a really, really good time last night, and I didn’t want to end things on a bad note or before I can ask for your number.”
“You could’ve just asked,” A light laugh leaves you at his more detailed than explanation, “I just meant you don’t have to apologize for your friend. Everyone has bad nights sometimes, and having someone throw of your routine can make stuff like that even worse.”
“Oh,” He laughs awkwardly as you hold out your hand for him to give you his phone. He watches with enthusiasm as you punch in your number before calling yourself, so you have his number.
“Text me later! I’d stay and talk more, but I need to go change for class and I think if you stay any longer, Mikasa may just glare a hole in my skull.” You press your lips against his cheek softly before you turn around to enter your building, “See ya later, Eren.”
His whole face is burning up by the time he gets in the car, too engrossed in what just happened to even notice that Mikasa has a deep scowl painting her features.
His phone buzzes, pulling it out he sees it’s a text from you. A fond smile is on his face when he sees it’s a mirror selfie of you in his t-shirt with a half grin on what shows of your face. For my contact photo &lt;3
“Are we going to class or what?” Mikasa grits out with a hateful tone, snapping him out of his trance.
“Oh, right.” He awkwardly coughs out as he starts the twenty minute drive to campus. Very, uncomfortably, awkward twenty minutes.
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Walking out of your sketching class, you’re pleasantly surprised to find Eren standing there waiting for you with, what you assume is, an iced coffee in his hand. Once he notices you, a huge smile appears on his face.
“Hey!” Your face heats as he hands you the drink enthusiastically, “Uh, Hi!” You look between him and the drink with curious eyes, causing him to blush as you take it.
“Oh, right. It’s an iced chai, with oat milk. I had Armin make it, he said you seemed like the type to like chai, but if you don’t like it then I can take you and get you something else.”
Your eyes don’t leave his face as he goes on about how Armin said oat milk was definitely a safe choice, because in case you have a dairy allergy, he firmly believes it superior non-dairy milk. Eren continues rambling for a few minutes about how he has no idea about the differences between almond and oat milk before he finds himself lost in your eyes that seem lost in his.
Smiling, you reach your free hand and grab his own, “I love oat milk. And, I have to agree with Armin, it is the superior non-dairy milk.”
Relief washes over his features as he smiles brightly at you, eyes traveling over you as he takes in your outfit change from this morning. You’ve chosen pink again today, and he can’t deny that it looks great on you, though he wishes you had kept on his shirt instead of going with the pink jeans with the pink corduroy jacket over a cropped white tank top you’ve chosen today.
You clutch your black tote bag closer to you as you sip the drink happily, grinning at Eren as you bite on the straw.
He smiles softly and clears his throat, “Anyway, I had a question for you.”
You quirk a brow, nodding for him to continue, “There’s this old theatre in town, they play lots of older films. They’re playing Rear Window on Friday at 7:30. Last night you mentioned you like older movies, so,” he sticks his hands in his pockets, biting his lip and glancing up at you, green eyes shining.
Your face heats up even more if possible, “Are you asking me out?” You pray his answer is yes.
“I mean, yeah! But, like, only if you want, though,” He’s met with a lip bite as you fight back yet another grin.
Despite wanting to say yes, you feel the slight need to be cautious. “I would love to go see Rear Window with you, but-”
Eren has to fight the frown that begs to take over his features at your words as you continue. “I just got out of a relationship. The only relationship I have ever been in, actually. And, well it wasn’t exactly a great relationship,”
Looking up at him you give him a small smile, “I would love to go out with you Eren, on a date. But do you think we could maybe, I don’t know, just hang out for a little bit? Take things slow?”
Eren tries not to look disappointed, because he does understand and he’s not disappointed, more bummed than anything honestly. But, he’s spent a whole semester pining over you, what’s a little longer?
“Absolutely!” The relief in your eyes makes whatever disappointment that was trying to creep in disappear completely.
Yeah, he absolutely can take things slow. No problem at all, right?
Can you take things slow, though? Probably not.
A comfortable silence develops between the two of you as you leave the fine arts building and head towards the parking lot to the south of it, “Do you want to get lunch with me and my friends tomorrow? I can pick you up around 1?”
Looking at him, you smile and nod, “Yeah, but are you sure no one will mind?”
Neither of you need to say anything to know you’re referring to Mikasa and her behavior towards you this morning. His face falls slightly at the thought of you not wanting to meet or hang out with his friends just because she was acting out of character this morning.
“Of course not!” It rushes out before he can control it. “If you’re worried about Mikasa, she had just had a bad night last night, like I was telling you earlier. It had absolutely nothing to do with you!”
You bite your lip, still unsure as you two come to a stop next to your car. Looking up at him, you sigh internally when you see his green eyes are already staring deeply at you, as if he’s begging you to say yes.
Despite a nagging feeling deep in your stomach, one telling you not to give in, especially so soon, a small voice in your head tells you that this, that he, could be good for you.
A soft smile creeps onto your glossy lips as you nod, telling him you’d be happy to go with him to lunch with his friends.
The smile the breaks out on his face makes all your negative thoughts disappear.
This will be a good thing, worst case, you just don’t click with his friends. He seems to like you plenty well already, and you like to think you’re likeable, surely his friends will, at the very least, get along with you.
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