#we leave the house maybe 3 times a MONTH | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

of-cauldrons-and-inkpens · 11 months

Text

You Missed My Heart: PART 1

PART 1 LINK | PART 2 LINK | PART 3 LINK

Description: Miguel had died months ago. At least, my universe’s Miguel had died. Maybe I should have noticed when I could feel him touching me in my dreams, but grief is a hell of a thing. That is, until I woke up in a house that looked just like mine, but somehow different.

Miguel had taken me from my universe and put me in one where he could relive his past, whether I liked it or not.

Word Count: 11,107 Author’s Note: I wrote this instead of doing my college work, but I also didn’t proofread. Hopefully there aren’t too many typos! I’ll probably add more chapters in the following days/weeks Content Warning: smut, mild breeding kink, reader is being held against their will, Miguel being manipulative and an ass, bit of angst (I mean his wife and child are dead so yeah)

Minors DNI! Story is below the cut

The dream was hazy. Miguel sighed as he began to inch toward the edge of the mattress, drifting out of the shared embrace that we had slept in. Arms and legs untangled from one another as he drifted away from me.

I reached my hand outward, catching onto his hand before he could slip away for good. “I need to go to work.” He whispered, his voice husky and warm from sleep. But, despite his protest, he lay back down beside me. “Don’t go.” I said. My hands worked their way through the darkness, moving to curl around his broad shoulders. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to feel his strong heartbeat against my chest and listen to him breathe one more time. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t real. I didn’t care that this was now a soft and distorted memory; this was all I had left of him. I had convinced myself weeks ago that if I dreamed of him enough, it would almost be like he wasn’t gone. “I have to. Alchemax is unveiling a new project today and I have to be there.” He leaned in, brushing the tip of his nose against mine. His breath was warm, working as a perfect antagonist for the frigid air of our bedroom. “Please Miguel.” I begged. He cut me off by pressing his lips against mine. The kiss was languid and wet. Our bodies were still naked from the previous night’s activities as he rolled on top of me. “Miguel…” I whispered. “Please don’t leave me.” “I’m not going anywhere.” He said. His lips slipped off of mine as he lowered his face, moving so that his mouth could graze the shell of my ear. There, he whispered the one thing I thought I would never hear again. “I love you…”

Something brushed the side of my face, pulling me from my dream. I jerked upward, searching for what had caused it. But I couldn’t see through the pitch black of the bedroom. In the darkness, I was so sure that I could smell him. He had been dead for months, but his scent still lingered in the walls and all of the soft places in the house. It was to the point that I was terrified of moving or washing anything; if I did, that last piece of him would vanish forever.

Hot tears slid down my face.

I had been crying again. But that had become such a common occurrence that I couldn’t even be surprised. Tears slid down my neck, soaking into the collar of Miguel’s Alchemax t-shirt that had been worn thin. Crying had become an every night thing since the funeral. Maybe if I could understand what the hell even happened to him, then I could be okay. But there had been no information about any of it. I had been told there was an accident at work and that there was nothing that could have been done to save him. But the term accident meant so many different things.

I lifted my hand to my cheek to wipe away the next batch of tears. But, as my fingers brushed my skin, I couldn’t help but notice the distinct warmth on that side of my face.

Had someone been here?

Had the gentle brush been entirely in my head?

I swallowed hard as my eyes searched the darkness. “Miguel?” I asked. But there was no answer. The delusional part of me wanted to hear him stir inside of the bathroom that attached to the bedroom. I slid my hand outward, searching through the sheets that would always remain cold.

The black out curtains that covered my window blocked out any light from the city. The only light in the room was from the small machine that Miguel had set up in the corner. I was never sure what exactly it did, but it always gave off a pale blue glow.

I glanced around the room, seeing that the pictures were all still lying face down on the dresser and bookshelves.

Nothing was different. He was still dead, and I was still alone.

I swallowed hard as I reached for the bottle of sleeping pills that sat on the bedside table. I had gotten them after stepping off one of the curbs in Nueva York without looking. But, before anything could happen, a man had grabbed me, jerking me out of the way seconds before my body had the chance to collide with the car that was racing down the street. Maybe if I hadn’t been so exhausted, then I would have thought before I walked.

The pills were my only chance at getting any rest these days. I unscrewed the top of the bottle, dropped one of the white pills into my hand, and then replaced the white plastic lid. I discarded the bottle onto the nightstand and then popped the pill in my mouth.

I just needed to go to sleep. If I could sleep, then I could see him again.

I leaned back against the sheets, watching the walls of the hallway through the open door of our bedroom. If I hadn’t known better, I could have sworn to God that I saw a faint orange and pink glow dance against the walls before being consumed by darkness.

No dreams came. My vision was dark, trapping me in a dreamless darkness. The pills always made my body heavy with sleep; it was almost impossible to open my eyes when I was like this. I didn’t see him in my dreams, but I could hear him. His voice was faint, speaking in delicate murmurs.

Fingers brushed against the skin of my face as he pushed several of my curls behind my ears. It was something he had always done, especially when I was sitting on the couch beside him. I had always wondered if he did it so that he could see my face or if it was just his way of getting my attention. But I guess that didn’t matter now.

I flinched at the reminder.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I’m here.” Miguel whispered. He pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. I felt the bed move under me, sinking on the edge as he sat down. “I’m gonna keep you safe.”

“You need to drop this.” A soft female voice said. Her voice was no more than a whisper.

“I can’t do that.” Miguel’s voice was firm; he had already made up his mind.

“Miguel, you’re torturing her. Just leave her alone.” The delicate voice pleaded. Behind my eyelids, I saw pink and honey color light flash. “Give her time. Let her mourn then let her move on. Maybe she could be happy. She could get married and have a good life.”

“Lyla, I’m not sure if you know this, but telling me that my wife is going to fuck someone else and that that’s why I should let her go has the exact opposite effect.”

“Let her be happy.” The girl pleaded.

“She should have died. I’m saving her.”

“Miguel, please let her go. Please, I really-” I heard him click something, making the second voice fall silent.

Warm arms slipped under my legs as I was overwhelmed by the smell of Miguel.

My Miguel.

He smelled faintly of cologne, sweat, and something else. He pulled me into his arms, laying my body against his strong chest. I felt him grab a heavy arm and place it on his shoulder. Beneath my fingers, I felt a weird material cover his skin.

What the hell?

I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t force myself out of the dream. The medication weighed me down, anchoring me into this strange haze.

Miguel bounced me in his arms a couple of times. I groaned, feeling him stand up. One of the blankets caught on my foot, tugging on my tired body. Miguel gently tossed the blanket onto the bed, offering a few more gentle bounces to my body as he started to walk.

“You’re going to be so happy.” He whispered. Miguel pressed a second kiss against my skin.

Blinding light came streaming through the window. I winced, lifting my hand to shield my eyes. I lay there for a moment before a thought occurred to me.

When was the last time I had been awakened by sunlight?

Miguel had always worked such random hours that we had hung thick blackout curtains over the window so that we had a chance at getting some sleep.

“What?” I pushed myself up in the bed, feeling my t-shirt drop down to cover the soft skin of my stomach. But the left side was caught on something, keeping that side of my abdomen exposed. I glanced down to see a thick bracelet that had been attached to my wrist. I pulled the shirt off of the bracelet, allowing it to fall and give me some sense of modesty as I glared at the contraption.

What the hell was this thing?

I glanced around, searching for some idea as to what was going on.

The only clue was a bright orange post-it note that had been pressed onto the bedside table. It was sitting between a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. Plucking the note off of the table, I quickly began to read it.

‘Please don’t be scared. I’ll be back soon. Take this for your head. It will take a bit to get used to all of this.’ It had been signed with a name that immediately made me shutter.

Miguel.

No. No. No.

Did I die?

Or did I finally go insane?

I pushed myself out of the bed, searching for some clue as to what the hell was going on. This was my bedroom. At least, it looked like it was. The closet was the same, the bookshelves were the same, even the weird off-blue shade that Miguel had picked for the walls was the exact same.

It was then that something caught my eye. All of the pictures were sitting upright. I could see our mutual smiles behind the glass. They were photos of us on dates, photos of us at the weird events that Alchemax held, and even some of the more intimate photos we had taken of us in bed with our bodies barely covered by the thin ocean of sheets.

I stepped forward, moving toward the closet. I jerked one of Miguel’s button-ups off of the hanger and inspected it. The spot where he had spilled wine on the cuff was missing. Instead, the material was bleach white.

This was wrong. This was all wrong.

Everything was familiar, but still foreign somehow. There were sheets that were the same color but didn’t have soft faded patches that had been acquired from stains during love making. There were clothes that I remembered wearing, but they didn’t have the small tears or stains in them. Everything was put together from memory, but it wasn’t my memory.

If I didn’t look too closely at it, it could almost be perfect.

Slowly, I stepped forward. As I moved toward the dresser, I stopped. In my home, my real home, there was a creak in the floorboard. Miguel had spent an entire weekend trying to fix it after we had moved in, but it was all in vain.

Maybe I was just paranoid. That was the only solution.

I leaned backward, then forward again in an attempt to get the floor to creak.

A deafening silence filled the room.

I reached down and pulled at the bracelet. It was heavy on my arm. I slipped my fingers under the band, attempting to pry it off of me. But it was no use. It had been secured at the base, making it impossible to remove.

Then, I did the only thing I could think of.

I ran.

I bolted from the bedroom, moving down the hallway. When I reached the stairs, I took them two by two. Frankly, I was amazed that I didn’t slip and break my neck. But fear is a hell of a motivator. I sprinted through the living room, searching for the front door of our house. I threw open the front door and rushed outside, ignoring the fact that I wore only a thin t-shirt and underwear.

I needed to get the hell out of there; I didn’t care about being modest at this point.

It was Nueva York; the buildings were the same, so was the noise. Sounds of construction, traffic, children playing, and music blasting filled the air. But, I couldn’t help but notice the main thing that was missing: no people or vehicles.

“Hello?” I called.

But I was all alone.

“Hello?” I screamed.

Something grabbed my hand, jerking me backwards. I stumbled but was caught before I could collide with the pavement. Strong arms curled around my waist and hauled me upward. I flailed my arms and kicked out my legs in an attempt to get free, but it was no use. The figure turned around and began to carry me back to the house as if I was nothing more than a doll. “You weren’t supposed to leave the house.”

I knew that voice. It was the one that haunted my dreams and filled my every ‘what-if.’

Miguel.

“What the fuck?” I screamed.

“Stop trying to fight me.” His voice was flat. I glanced behind me to look at him. He wasn’t my Miguel. His eyes flickered somewhere between chocolate brown and blood red. The muscles on his shoulders were more defined and the line between his eyebrows was deeper. But maybe that was because of the dark scowl that he wore as he carried me up the small steps of the brownstone.

When he stepped inside of the house, he threw me onto the hardwood floor. As my head hit the floor, he reached behind him and flipped the deadbolt.

That was to make sure that I didn’t try and escape again.

Miguel wasn’t dressed how I was used to. My Miguel always wore some kind of standard, normal clothes. Nicer clothes for work, soft pants, and sweatshirts at home. But this man, the imposter, wore a red and blue costume that stretched over his hard muscles and accentuated his domineering frame.

“You were supposed to wait. I said I would be back soon.”

“Who the hell are you?” I twisted my body so that I was sitting up on the hardwood floor. I pulled my legs close to my body, attempting to hide my thin underwear from him.

“You’re joking right?” He asked. He stood over me, inspecting me with a look of both confusion and disappointment.

“No, I’m not. And what the hell did you put on my arm?” I shook my wrist, trying to loosen the device.

“Stop trying to take it off. If you do, you’ll die. Unless that’s what you’re hoping for.” He said as he studied me. I froze.

“What?”

“It keeps you alive in this universe. You’re not from here; you don’t belong here, so if you take that off, you’ll glitch until you die.”

I glanced around the room, taking in all of the little imperfections. The room was wrong, reminding me that I was in some kind of strange prison.

“What is all of this?” I asked. Miguel stared at me at if the answer was so obvious.

“It’s our home.”

“No… no, it isn’t.” I said. “What did you do to me?” I pushed myself off of the floor. As I did, I pulled at the bottom of the t-shirt. The man stared at me, his eyes dancing between the terrified look on my face at the pale skin of my naked legs. As his eyes drank me in, I could see them turning to a deeper shade of red.

“Who are you?” I asked. He let out a dark chuckle. As he did, I couldn’t help but notice that sharp white fangs that protruded from his mouth.

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t call me that.” I said. He rolled his eyes.

“Look, I’ve been very sweet to you. But now you’re starting to piss me off.” His voice was sharper this time. He moved toward me and I stepped back.

“Why do you look like him?” I asked. He knew exactly what I meant.

“Because I am him… in a way.”

“I don’t understand.” I said. He once again tried to fill the distance between the two of us. I stepped backward, feeling my back hit the side of the couch. “You died… he died.”

“In your universe, yes. Please call me Miguel. I know this may be new to you, but I am your husband, just a different version of him. I mean you no harm.” The dull ache from being thrown on the floor said differently. “I did all of this because I love you.”

“You don’t know me.” I said. I slid my hands against the side of the couch in an attempt to find something to cling to. He let out a dry laugh.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I know you in every single universe. I’ve known more versions of you than you can imagine. Versions where you live, versions where you die. So, in a way, I know you better than you even know yourself.”

“If you knew me so well, then you would know Miguel and I never married.”

“Purely semantics. Besides, that’s something that I fully intend on correcting.”

“You’re insane.” I said.

“Don’t fucking call me that. You have no idea how hard I worked to fix everything for you; how hard I worked to make sure that everything would be perfect.”

“Miguel, where the fuck am I?” I demanded. “And I don’t want you to keep saying I’m home. This isn’t my home. Where am I?”

“You could be a little bit more grateful. You should have died.” He said. “You weren’t supposed to be pulled out of the way of a car and you were.”

Anger flashed through me. Just looking at him filled me with a mixture of rage and sadness that mixed together in a sludge that did nothing but make me want scream at him. “I’m supposed to be dead? You’re dead! I went to your funeral! There’s a goddamn sign in the Alchemax lobby for you.” My throat burned and my eyes stung with tears. “Was that all some kind of sick lie?”

“No, your Miguel did die.” His voice was matter of fact- almost cold. It was as if he had said this all a million times before. Hell, for all I knew, he had. Maybe this was some kind of sick game he liked to play. “But, that’s no matter. I’m here now. I made a little pocket universe for you; where you can live and where you being here won’t affect anything. You can stay here with me, and things will be exactly as they should be.” I glanced at the locked door behind him. “You being here won’t affect any other universe and it keeps you out of your own, making sure that all of the canon events happen exactly as they should. The canon is safe and you get to live. Two birds, one stone.” He was so proud of himself.

“Do I have a choice in staying with you?”

His face twitched at my question. “I’ve watched you cry for him at night. I’ve heard you scream and beg for him to come back. You wear his clothes and listen to his music and talk to yourself like he’s still there. For God’s sake, I’ve watched you touch yourself to pictures of him. I just assumed you would have had a warmer reception to me.”

“You had no right to spy on me.” I winced, remembering the feeling of my face being touched in my sleep. He had been there, watching me as I mourned. Besides, there was something in the way he emphases a warmer reception. He was hoping I would immediately adore him and drag him into the bedroom to screw until I couldn’t walk straight. He wanted us to immediately slip into some weird little habit where I pretended to be his loving wife. He said I died in other universes. Was I his replacement, just as he hoped to be mine?

Miguel sucked on his teeth before he stepped forward.

Without thinking, I twisted my body around and bolted toward the kitchen. I had no idea where I was even going; I just wanted to be away from him.

I got about five steps away before he reached outward and grabbed me. This time, his hold was harder. His arms crushed themselves against my body as he lifted me upward and began to carry me toward the stairs. This time, he was holding me so tight that I was sure he was going to break my ribs.

“You’re hurting me.” I gasped.

“Then stop trying to leave me.” He said. “You’re not going to get far and you’re just going to end up hurting yourself.”

He carried me up the stairs, his eyes dark red in the dim light. He carried me to the bedroom at the end of the hall. When he reached the room, he looked down at me.

“Say you love me.” It was a second chance. I paused for a moment, trying to find a way to fake sincerity.

He wasn’t my Miguel. He wasn’t my angel who I curled up with on the couch or who insisted on making me listen to old music that nobody but him would ever like. This man didn’t have that gentleness about him; he wasn’t sweet or loving.

“I love you.” I tried. I knew I sounded like I was faking it.

“At least I know you’re a shitty actress.” He muttered. He dropped me on the floor of the bedroom and then stepped outside before I had a chance to make another getaway. He slammed the door shut.

“Miguel, please let me out.”

“Ah, now you want to be nice to me.” He mocked.

“You kidnapped me. I’m sorry if I’m not the person you were hoping for. If you want someone better, just get a different me from some other place. I’m sure the universe is just littered with them.”

“I saved you. Your universe would have collapsed if it weren’t for me. I offered you the chance to live in a different place, where none of that can ever hurt you and you hate me for it. You want to be pissed? Be my guest. But in time, you’ll love me. I know you will. You always do.”

“Yeah, Miguel, it doesn’t feel like you’re giving me a choice in the matter.” I said. “Why can’t you just find another girl? Anyone else?”

“It has to be you. Because it always is, no matter what. Every time, we end up together so I can’t just grab some random person. Besides, there aren’t too many of you who aren’t already with some version of me. Stealing wives from other versions of me just sounds wrong.”

Yeah, that would be the wrong part. Not the whole kidnapping thing. He keeps flipping between lunatic and romantic who is waxing poetic about our deep love. Maybe I would have been charmed if I had actually known this man. Plus, there was something weird about the way he said it. Had he considered it? How did he find widows versus wives?

“Miguel, sweetheart, how about you let me out of here and then we can find some kind of arrangement that we both like?”

He rolled his eyes as he locked the door from the outside. “When you decide to be the version of you that I know and love, then we can talk.”

Bastard.

I kicked the door, but I knew it was useless. He was already walking away from the door. In the distance, I heard his voice as he began to speak to someone else.

“Lyla, I’m a little busy right now.”

“It’s urgent.” She said.

It was hours before he came back. I didn’t hear him when he was stepping toward the door. I only heard him when he unlocked the door and let out a low sigh.

“I brought you dinner. It’s in the kitchen. I expect you to eat dinner with me tonight.” He said.

“Thank you.” I squeaked out. I hadn’t eaten since the night before. I was starving. Besides, if this was his idea at a peace offering, who was I to reject. He obviously didn’t want to return me to my real home. Maybe I should just get used to this. “I’ll be down in a minute. I want to clean up a little bit.” I said.

“I’ll get everything ready.” He said. With that, I heard him step away from the door of the bedroom. At least he was receptive to me needing a moment, rather than dragging me downstairs to eat right now.

I sighed to myself as I pushed myself off of the bed. I couldn’t just wear a t-shirt and underwear. I already looked like an absolute mess. My face was swollen from crying and my curls had turned into a frizzy mess from being manhandled so many times in the last twenty-four hours.

My best bet was a shower to calm me down and hopefully take away some of the puffy redness around my eyes and nose. I didn’t want him to see that I had sobbed when I was alone; he may have carted me around in my underwear, but I still had my dignity.

There was a small bathroom attached to the room. It was one that I was familiar with. It was exactly like the one at my house; there weren’t any superficial tweaks that he had made. At least, none that I could see upon first inspection.

I quickly showered, scrubbing my body gently as I went. As I slid a loofah along the sides of my body, I winced. Dark bruises were starting to blossom across my ribs from where he had squeezed as he carried me.

Damn it, that hurt!

I winced as I washed my body, careful not to aggravate any new sore spots that I had gotten. I then washed my hair, making sure that it was nice and clean.

Stepping out of the tub, I realized that I hadn’t grabbed a towel. I was sure that he would put them where I always did. After all, that was really the only place for them in the bathroom. I quickly ducked down and pulled open the door to the bathroom cabinet. The towels had been stacked on one side, random trinkets and things he had brought for me rested on the other. I snatched a towel from the pile as I eyed the objects.

They were the usual fair, mixed in with a few oddballs. Tampons, deodorant, razors, women’s shaving cream, a perfume that I wore pretty often, a couple of bottles of hand and body lotion, a toothbrush, toothpaste, an eyelash curler, a new tube of mascara, hair gel, and a dozen or so other hair things. I sighed and quickly added several of the things to the counter. I needed to brush my teeth and do my hair. As I stacked those things on the counter, I couldn’t help but notice that there were more things resting against the very back of the shelf. Against the wall sat two small pink boxes that were still in their clear wrapping from the drugstore. I frowned as I pulled them forward, moving them closer so that I could see them. The first was a new box of pregnancy tests. I shook the box; sure enough, it actually contained what it said it did. Part of me expected the box to be a decoy and to either be empty or filled with something outwardly sinister, like a camera. Why did he buy me pregnancy tests? I flipped the second box over and was greeted by a bulk box of ovulation test strips, meant to check for when I was ovulating. I winced equally at both of the packages. I quickly shoved them back into the cabinet and closed the door.

Part of me wanted to know why those were what he chose to buy me; the other part was scared to know the answer.

I quickly stood up and began to dry off. It was a short time between when I finished showering and when I stepped out into the bedroom, my hair styled with my curls down, my teeth brushed, and my skin dried of any excess water.

Stepping to the closet, I noticed that all of the dresses in the closet were too formal. Most of the clothes that I typically wore were missing. No t-shirts, jeans, or even standard pajamas. Damn it, Miguel. I quickly walked over to the dresser and opened the bottom drawer.

Based on what was there, my best bet was the baby pink nightie that lay on the top of the pile of clothes. It was obviously new; a tag was still attached to the spaghetti strap and frankly, I had never seen it before, so I figured that it was something he had picked out himself.

I pulled the dress on, wincing when it stopped several inches above my knees. I pulled on a pair of underwear and then snagged a grey cardigan from the closet in an attempt to have a chance at being warm.

What I was wearing was closer to lingerie than actual clothing, but that didn’t seem to matter at this point. He had dragged me around twice in my underwear, on top of the fact that he said he had watched me touch myself to him. My face burned at that thought.

Besides, if he was right and we were always together, then none of this would be new to him. But maybe it would make him be nicer to me if he thought I was being nicer to him.

I stepped through the hallway, careful not to lose my footing in the dim light. As I went, I couldn’t help but notice one of the more glaring differences between my universe and this was. The door to the room that rested next to the bedroom wasn’t stained with its dark russet shade. He had painted this door yellow. That was clearly a recent change; the air still smelled heavily of paint. But why the hell had he painted it in the first place? Maybe he was used to it being a different color and was perfecting it to fit his little fantasy.

I made my way downstairs. He was sitting in the small breakfast nook that rested in the kitchen. He had set out the white plates and arranged the food so that I had easy access to everything. As I rounded the corner, he glanced upward. Something stirred in his dark eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Miguel was sitting at the table, pushing around an eggroll with a plastic fork. He had changed out of his standard red and blue spider suit into an old sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants.

Lucky bastard.

He looked tired. He had a dark stain of blood on his left cheek and I was sure that it wasn’t his. I didn’t want to think about whether or not the owner of that blood was still alive, because I knew there was a good chance they weren’t. I watched him for a moment before I stepped away from the table. He frowned, watching me closely. I was sure he was watching to verify that I didn’t make another run for it. I quickly pulled a washcloth out of one of the lower cabinets by the sink and then turned on the faucet. Once the water ran warm, I wet the rag, wrung it out so that it wasn’t dripping, and then I turned off the water.

I stepped back into the small dining area. “Miguel.” I said in an attempt to get his attention. His tired eyes drifted up to meet mine. The eyes that were once a burning red were now a warm brown. They were almost the shade of coffee. He watched me with such an intensity that it made my face turn a dark maroon. I was sure that he noticed, but he didn’t remark on it.

I leaned down slightly, moving so that my standing height could line up with his sitting size. God, he was so damn tall. “Miguel, here. You have blood on your face.” He reached up to take the cloth but was surprised when I gently pressed the warm material to his face. “Just hold still for a second.” I whispered. For a moment, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had changed out of his suit for comfort or if it was just as coated in blood as his face was. The idea made me shudder internally.

I gently wiped away the dried blood, folding the cloth as I went so that I didn’t rub old blood against his face. When I reached the hollow of his cheek, I slipped one hand under his strong jaw and had him tilt his face to the side in an attempt to give me a better angle. He closed his eyes, giving in to the gentle touch.

He was touch starved. I could tell by the way his breathing slowed and the hairs on his arm stood on end. He wasn’t used to being touched; not anymore. Not in any way that offered any kind of tenderness.

“There you go. All clean.” I said. He opened his eyes and he nodded. His eyes then dipped downward toward my dress.

“Nice outfit.”

“It would appear that most of my actual clothing is gone. So, I have plenty of clothing for the bustling city life outside and I have plenty of lingerie, but everything else is a bit sparse.”

A smile pulled at his lips with my comment. Then, he nodded. “I’ll bring you your clothes from your home universe.”

“Thank you.” I said. Miguel leaned forward and grabbed a container of orange chicken.

He had ordered us Chinese food. It was something that I couldn’t help but note was the same as we had had on our first date. I glanced at the label and confirmed that it was the same restaurant and everything. We had eaten there the night we had first met. We had dipped out of a party at Alchemax early. I hadn’t wanted to be there, but my father had worked there for so many years that it almost felt like an obligation. When I had turned to leave too fast, I knocked wine all over Miguel, but he hadn’t seemed to mind.

“Are you okay?” This Miguel asked. I quickly nodded as I was pulled from the distant memory.

“I am. Thank you for dinner.” I pushed a small amount of food onto my plate and then returned the container to the center of the table.

“You need to eat; really eat.” He said. His brown eyes danced over my face as he searched for something in my gaze. He was hoping to find some kind of love there; a familiarity or affection that I could offer him.

“I feel sick.”

“That’s just because you aren’t used to being in a different universe. Consider it like jet lag. You’ll get used to it in a few days.” He noticed when I didn’t move to eat. I stared into space, feeling my previous convictions about being sweet to him begin to slip away. “I could always make you eat.” He said.

“You wouldn’t do that.” I muttered. He let out a low sigh and then returned to his food. He wasn’t going to argue with me. Or maybe I was right; maybe there were some things he wouldn’t be willing to do to me. But he had walked in sporting horror-movie levels of blood on his skin. So, who knows?

“Is there anything that’s bothering you?” He asked. “You can always ask me.”

“Are you going to lock me up in my room again if you don’t like the question?” I asked. He didn’t respond.

Tread lightly, I guess.

“Why do you look different than my Miguel?”

“I’m Spiderman. Your Miguel wasn’t. He was close, but he didn’t quite get there before…” His voice faded off. He was trying to be sensitive to me, in his own fucked up way. Or maybe his own narcissism wouldn’t allow him to talk about his failures, even in a different universe.

“Do all Spidermen look like you?” I asked.

“Are they all so devastatingly handsome? Afraid not, sweetheart. They don’t usually look the same. Hell, they can look like anything. I found one that’s literally a cartoon pig. But appearances aside, they can mostly do the same things: climb walls, shoot webs, the whole lot.”

“Ah.” I said. “Do they all have the…” I tapped my finger to my teeth, motioning for the fangs that protruded anytime he spoke. He shrugged.

“That seems to be a thing entirely unique to me.”

Did I sense a bit of insecurity there?

He furrowed his brow as he turned his attention to the dinner plate. Damn it, now I felt bad.

Why the hell did I feel bad for hurting his feelings? He kidnapped me and had dragged me around like a rag doll. But I couldn’t ignore the guilt that started to brew inside of me.

I sighed as I moved closer to him. Even if he was my captor, I couldn’t help but see him as the man who I still loved. Even if that ended at the physical resemblance. I slid to the edge of my chair and reached my arm out for his face. My fingers slid against the rough stubble of his jaw, tracing the side of his face for a moment. He leaned his head to the side, moving into my touch.

“I’m sorry.” I whispered. He nodded, lifting a hand upward. He laid his fingers on top of mine, holding my hand there against his skin. God, he was burning up. Did he always feel like this? Maybe he was actually sick. My Miguel never ran this warm. Or maybe it was just a side-effect of the spider bite. I didn’t understand any of that well enough to question it and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask about it.

Suddenly, something clattered to the ground in the kitchen, making me jump. I pulled my hand back from his face, feeling the reality of the situation settle in. I slid my hand back into my lap, watching as his eyes lingered on for entirely too long. His brown eyes swam with a deep want. He wanted me to keep touching him.

Maybe sleeping with him would knock him out of this lovesick spell. Or maybe it would only make it worse. He stared at me, moony eyed and desperate. He was Miguel, even if he wasn’t my version of him. Maybe he could genuinely love me, even if only in his own fucked up way.

“If you loved him so deeply, do you think you could ever love me the same way?” He asked.

“Miguel…” I said. His face twitched slightly. I couldn’t say no; maybe I could, eventually. Or maybe he would become crueler, and I would hate him every second of my life. I didn’t know what to tell him. He leaned back in his chair, his face twisting in an attempt to conceal a deep pain.

Change the conversation quick. Change it before the night could descend in chaos with either us screaming at one another or him locking me in the room again. Or maybe he would just send me back to my own universe to die. After all, if he couldn’t get what he wanted from me, then there was no use in keeping me here.

He made a low noise and then returned to eating, never saying anything about how I had dismissed him.

“Why did you paint the door in the hallway?” I asked. He paused, trying to think up an answer. Then, he swallowed his dinner and shook his head.

“Just decided that it looked better that way.”

“But why? What was wrong with the original color?”

“Does it really bother you that much that I changed one thing?” He asked. His voice had an edge to it now. I clearly was not supposed to ask about the door. But why? It was just a damn door.

“No, but it’s weird that that is the one thing you decided to change. I figured that there was probably a reason.” He rolled his eyes as he took another big bite of food.

“Can’t you just be happy? Most people would overjoyed if they had the opportunity that you do.”

“Yes, I’m quite sure that most people would just love to be stolen from their bed by their boyfriend’s psycho twin. Frankly, that’s every woman’s dream.” My voice was dripping with so much sarcasm that he rolled his eyes. “How long are you planning on keeping this up? This isn’t the Truman Show. You can’t just keep me locked up here for the rest of my life so that you can get your kicks spying on me. And I’m not going to act out some fifties sitcom for you.”

“You don’t have to. I just want you to be… you. Or, as close to it as possible.” He said. As close to me as possible… the words rattled around in my head for a moment.

“You want me to be her.” His face twitched. “I lost him and you lost someone who looks exactly like me.”

Dear God, that was exactly it. All of my suspicions were correct. I was supposed to play house with him, while pretending to be a very specific version of myself that he had once loved. I had to be the perfect version of his wife; the one who doted on and loved him, or else this was all for nothing.

“Have you ever read The Great Gatsby?” I asked. He stared at me, his gaze littered with something.

“Tread lightly, sweetheart.”

“The book is about a man who tries to relive his past. He is so sure that repeating everything and making little adjustments will fix his world.” I swallowed hard, trying to make sure he understood what I was saying. I wasn’t his toy; I wasn’t meant to be wound up to perform for him. “Miguel, you can’t fix things by redoing them. People die. You have to let them go. If your wife died, you need to let her go.”

“I don’t hear you saying that about him.” He sneered.

“That’s because I didn’t kidnap you. I was willing to let you… to let him go.” All of the terms were confusing. This man looked like my Miguel, but he wasn’t. He was a different version of him, which I guess could also make him him, just a different kind. God, I was confusing myself.

“That’s bullshit. I know you want him back. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in the way you look at me.”

“I think what you’re seeing is a mixture of fear and your own reflection.”

“You love me.” He said.

“I don’t know you, Miguel. I don’t know who you are. I know who you look like, but that doesn’t really help your situation.” I paused for a long moment. “How did she die?” I asked. He shook his head.

“That’s none of your fucking business.” He snapped. I flinched at his words.

“I have the right to know how she died.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t even know how your own husband died and you think you have the right to pry into my life.” With that, he pushed himself up from the table.

He tossed the plate into the sink and it shattered against the metal of the basin. I heard him swear in Spanish under his breath. He was pissed but he hadn’t meant to do that. Maybe that was just an every day occurrence with spider strength.

He began to head to the archway that separated the kitchen from the rest of the house. As he stepped, I heard him swearing under his breath. I also heard my name several times.

“Miguel, where are you going?” I asked.

“You hate me so much, maybe it would be better if I wasn’t around.”

“Miguel, where are you going?” I repeated. He muttered more words under his breath. I watched as he pushed several buttons on the sides of his wrist device. He flipped a top piece on the metal bracelet.

“Lyla-“ he started.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I pushed myself up from the table, following him as he left the kitchen. He didn’t reply. I rounded the corner, following as he stepped into the living room. Upon entering, I was nearly blinded by a massive orange and pink hole that swirled and twisted in the center of the room. With every step he took, he drifted closer to it.

So, that was how he managed to leave and then come back. If what he wore on his wrist was capable of doing it, I wondered if mine was, too. No, surely not. The intent was to keep me here; giving me an opportunity to escape would defeat the entire purpose. He said that if I took it off, I would die. I had no choice but to believe him on that front.

“Miguel.” Still no answer. “Where are you going?” He stepped toward the portal without a sound.

“Miguel, where the hell are you going?” I repeated.

He rolled his eyes as he glanced down at the device on his wrist.

“If you leave, what the hell am I supposed to do? There aren’t any people outside. I’m going to have to guess that all of the buildings are empty. Are you coming back? Am I going to starve to death? What if I get hurt? What if I fall down the stairs and die? When the hell are you coming back? How am I supposed to contact you?” The words fell out of my mouth so fast that I didn’t have the chance to consider if these were stupid questions.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” He scoffed. But he didn’t offer me any kind of actual answer.

“Miguel, you said you were my husband. You can’t just abandon me.” He flinched, but he still did not turn around. “Please…” I begged. If he left, I was stranded. At least with him here, I was guaranteed human contact and sustenance.

“Miguel, I need you.” I said. As the words left my mouth, I did the only thing I could think of to get his attention. I slid my hand up to the cardigan and quickly slipped it off of my shoulders. He didn’t seem to notice or care when it dropped to the ground below me. I then reached upward and grabbed onto the thin spaghetti straps of the pink nightgown. Without hesitation, I pulled them over either shoulder, allowing the gown to slide entirely off my body and pool onto the floor at my feet.

“Miguel.” I repeated. This time, my voice was no louder than a whisper. That was enough to get his attention. Or maybe he had heard the dress gather on the floor at my feet. I swallowed hard, feeling the cold bite at my bare skin. I was standing almost naked in the middle of the living room, wearing only a thin pair of underwear that offered very little coverage.

Miguel glanced backward. His eyes caught expanse of my bare skin and I swore I saw him smile.

“Don’t leave.” I said. I lifted my hands and crossed my arms. It was a force of habit. I felt so exposed like this. Though, I quickly lowered my hands, knowing that getting his attention was my best chance at him staying.

He turned around to face me. “Please say something, Miguel.” I whispered. The longer I went without a reaction, the more I started to feel like an idiot for this. Maybe I had just made myself look stupid in front of him. Or, better yet, maybe this was something his wife wouldn’t have done; maybe this would make him send me back home to die.

He slunk forward, a predator approaching prey. I saw the portal swirl into a smaller and smaller hole in the universe. Then, it closed, leaving us alone in the dim light of the living room.

Miguel moved so that he was only a few inches in front of me. The material of his shirt grazed my naked skin, making me wince. The shirt was too rough against my goosebump littered flesh. He stared down at me. As he did, his eyes turned from warm brown to a deep red again.

His palm drifted up to cup my cheek. His skin burned to the touch. I swallowed hard, feeling his fingers stroke the side of my face. It was almost as if he was petting me; like I was a toy for him to play with. He leaned down. His lips grazed the shell of my ear as he whispered, “Let me know if I hurt you.”

“Huh?” He pressed his mouth against mine, hard. His lips were warm as he began to work them, moving them so that they forced my mouth open. I moaned, overwhelmed by it all. As his lips slid against mine, I was sure that I would be bruised tomorrow.

A fang brushed my bottom lip, making me gasp. “Gentle, Miguel.” I whispered.

“Sorry.” His warm breath covered my face. He smelled intoxicating. He straightened his stance, moving away from me. When he pulled away, I let out an audible whimper.

God, please tell me I didn’t genuinely want him. I swallowed hard, feeling myself getting slick between my thighs. I was sure that if he looked, he would see a spot forming in my underwear.

I wanted to hold him. I tried to grab his shoulders, but our heights were too off. He was too tall for me to grab hold of. I pushed myself onto my tippy toes, but even that wasn’t enough. I was still too short for him. Miguel noticed this and leaned downward, allowing me to curl my arms around his strong shoulders.

“That’s my girl.” He slipped his hands down and curled his fingers around my bare thighs. He jerked my body upward. I curled my legs around his hips. He was already getting hard, causing his pajama bottoms to strain.

Miguel stepped forward, carrying me up the stairs. I knew where we were going: the bedroom. I pressed a gentle kiss against his cheek. Even in the dark, I could tell he smiled.

He was getting exactly what he had wanted. But I couldn’t bring myself to make it all stop. I wanted him. I had craved him for so long and here he was. He wasn’t my Miguel, but maybe he wouldn’t die. He was stronger than my Miguel. Maybe that would allow him to stick around.

He twisted the door handle, leaving deep dents in the shape of his fingers in the cold metal. He was trying his hardest to be gentle with me, but I knew it was a battle he would most likely lose.

He tossed me on the bed, throwing me just a tad too hard. I landed on the opposite side of the mattress, groaning as my head almost collided with the wooden headboard. “Miguel.”

“I know, I know.” He teased. He flipped his hand over, shooting a fine web that caught my ankle. “Come here, sweetheart.” He rolled the webbing around his fingers, pulling it tight. I gasped, feeling my body sliding across the sheets. He dragged me down to the edge of the bed.

“Miguel!” I squealed. He smirked as he pressed his knees into the bed, pulling me so that I was only a few inches away from him. He pulled the web off my skin, making sure that it didn’t hurt me.

“Do you do that a lot?” I asked.

“As often as you, sweetheart. Next time, I can web you to the headboard.” My face flashed bright red. He chuckled.

Miguel reached down and grabbed the bottom of his sweatshirt. He hauled it upward, pulling it over his head before discarding it on the floor. Taut muscles danced under his skin. Every inch of him was bound in hard muscle, covered in perfect skin.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against my knee. His fingers wandered up my thighs, feeling my bare skin. He pushed his other hand into the mattress.

“Miguel, please.”

“Please what?” He asked. I took his free hand in mine and guided it up to my chest. He moaned, offering a soft squeeze.

Miquel scrambled up to my chest. He caught my nipple in his mouth and moaned, licking the sensitive skin as he sucked. His fingers kneaded my other breast, stopping every once in a while to offer the hard peak a gentle pinch.

I brushed my fingers through his dark hair. He smiled against my skin, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “What?” I asked.

“Let me know if I’m too rough with you.” With that he slinked down to the warm skin of my thighs. He traced his lips across the bare skin. As he went, he opened his lips to gently suck and kiss the bare flesh. Every so often I would feel a burst of pain that lasted no longer than a second. He mumbled something against my skin. I pushed myself up onto my elbows, moving so that I could see what he was doing.

Another sharp pain shot through my left thigh as he buried his face in my skin. Miguel glanced upward, feeling my eyes on him. His fangs had nipped my bare skin, making me yelp. “I’ll be more gentle.” His voice was warm and weighted with lust.

He slipped upward and slid his fingers under the waist of my panties. He bit the material with his teeth. I heard him snip the material and rolled my eyes.

“You can’t do that to all of my clothes. I barely have any to begin with.”

“I’ll buy you whatever you want.” He pressed a warm kiss against my bare hip. Then, he moved to the other side. He repeated the same action, slicing through the material using his fangs. He placed a kiss on that side, as well.

“You’re such a showoff.”

“Am not.”

“You could have just pulled them off of me the normal way.” I fought back a laugh.

“I can bench press a city bus. I don’t need to showoff to you. Besides, learn to have some sense of romance.” He threw the remains of the panties onto the floor. He immediately pressed a soft kiss against the mound that had been covered by my underwear.

He was extremely careful when he shifted downward. But the dull ache on the skin of my thighs where he had bit made me want to make my only request. “Hey, no teeth.”

“Funny, that’s what I always tell you.” He muttered. I rolled my eyes. “Lay back and hush up.”

“You’re so damn bossy.” I shifted on the mattress, spreading my legs wider for him. He placed his hand across my folds and gently spread them to expose my clit. He flicked his tongue across my clit. “Fuck, Miguel.” I lifted my hips off the bed, moving closer to his face.

He started to work, flicking his tongue over my clit as the index finger on his free hand traced my opened. He collected my wetness on his finger, sliding it around to make sure that I was good to go. Then, he slipped in his middle and index finger, sinking in until his knuckles touched my pussy.

I moaned, feeling his tongue work its magic.

Fuck, he was good at this.

He curled his fingers inside of me, brushing my sweet spot. I grabbed the back of his head, feeling his head bob under my palm as he licked.

Then, something occurred to me. He knew every inch of my body because he had fucked me thousands of times in the past. Even if it wasn’t me, it was a girl who was exactly like me. Maybe I was just that predicable. Or maybe he was just that good.

He picked up his speed, lapping between my folds as I curled my fingers in his hair. I was close and he could feel it. He could feel the twitches and miniatures spasms on his tongue as he worked. “Miguel, I’m close!” I whimpered.

He licked faster. Suddenly, pleasure shot through me, filling me with a white-hot heat. I moaned, spasming around his fingers as I came undone.

Miguel whispered something into my thigh as he pushed himself off the bed. Then, he pulled down his pajama bottoms, allowing for his cock to spring upward. It smacked against his lower stomach, heavy and decorated with a dark vein that ran along the underside. He kicked his pants off into the floor and then crawled on top of me.

He pressed a soft kiss on my lips. I could taste myself on his lips.

“This may hurt at first. I won’t move until you’re ready.” He said. He reached down between us. I watched as he grabbed his dick, stroked himself twice, and then lined himself up with my entrance. Without another word, he slid inside, making me gasp. I curled my legs around his hips, pulling him in deep as possible. “That’s my girl.”

I was overwhelmed with a stretching sensation. Arms rested on either side of my head as he stayed in place, waiting for me. After a moment, I leaned forward and kissed him, giving him the go ahead. One hand drifted up to my face. He caressed my cheek and his lips glided against mine.

He drew his hips back, sliding nearly all the way out. Then, thrusted upward, hitting deep inside of me. I gasped into his mouth. “I forgot how tight you are.” He murmured, his words slurring together.

My hands slid down his muscled back as he started to fuck himself into me. All the while, he kept his mouth on mine. I could feel his heart beating against my chest as he worked.

“Miguel…” I moaned, rocking my hips against him. I could feel my lower stomach tightening.

Suddenly, he whispered my name. It was so gentle that it was almost unsettling, considering the circumstances. I glanced up to meet his gaze. But as my eyes met his, he dipped downward. He buried his face in the curve of my neck so that I couldn’t see his eyes.

“Miguel, what’s wrong?”

He rutted his hips upward, burying himself as deep as possible. I gasped, digging my nails into his back. Despite how hard I had sunk them in, they didn’t break the skin. He was indestructible… at least, physically. I slid one hand across the skin of his back, moving to his dark hair. I could have sworn I heard him murmuring something into my neck. I could feel his lips moving against my skin, offering some kind of low prayer. But to who?

“Miguel…” He pulled his hips back again and then quickly slid inside of me again, grinding his hips against me to get a reaction. I gasped, tightening my hold on his hair.

“Say you love me.” His voice was dreamy, and his words slurred from pleasure.

“What?” I asked. It caught me off guard.

“Say it.”

“I love you.” I felt his hips still their movements. He was weighing the authenticity of my words. After a moment, he lifted his head from my neck.

“Say it again.” His eyes peered into mine. He was searching for something in my stare.

“I love you.”

“Good girl.” With that, he continued to beat into me, groaning when I would tense around him.

We were both close. I could tell by the chorus of whimpers and moans that were filling the room. That familiar tightening in my stomach was close to coming entirely undone.

He pivoted his hips, hitting the perfect spot inside of me. Miguel stared down at my features. He wanted something very specific from me before he finished. He ground his hips, making me gasp.

Fucking hell, Miguel.

With that, I felt myself come undone. Pleasure shot through me, making me clamp down on his dick. He grunted, never stopping his movements. “Miguel, I love you!” He groaned at my words. He kept hitting deep inside of me, making sure to grind himself against me every couple of thrusts.

His orgasm overtook him. He groaned my name as he gave one final thrust, hitting deep. I felt his body tense under my hands.

Slowly, we both came down from our highs. We were dragged back to the reality of the bedroom. The day had faded into night, leaving us in darkness.

He had finished inside of me. I could feel a deep warmth inside of my stomach. I also felt a distinct wetness that was hard to ignore. I sighed, relaxing into the mattress. I unhooked my legs, waiting for him to slide out of me. But, instead, he reached behind him and closed my legs again.

“No…” He murmured. Then, he leaned down and pressed a kiss against my lips. In this position, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was so intimate; so loving. Maybe he really did see me as his wife. He pressed another gentle kiss against my mouth. I closed my eyes, giving into the softness of the moment.

“You have to do something for me.” He said. I opened my eyes to look at him.

“Okay.”

“I want you to love me like you loved him. I want you to look at me like I’m your hero and that I’m special.” He inhaled sharply before he reached forward to brush one of my curls off of my forehead. “I want you to care if I die.”

I nodded. What other option was there? I was trapped in his little universe; it’s not like I could ever leave or be with anyone else. Besides, we were still literally connected at the hip.

After what felt like an eternity, he slid out of me. He leaned back on the balls of his feet to inspect me. I immediately closed my legs, though that did little good. He reached forward and grabbed my knees, prying my thighs apart. Warm cum dribbled out of me, coating the naked skin of my upper thighs.

He smirked at his handy work before pushing himself off of the bed. He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, turning on the faucet and grabbing a towel from the cabinet.

It was then that something occurred to me. “Miguel, I’m not on birth control.” I said. He nodded, acting as if I had just told him about the weather. He stepped out of the bathroom holding a damp washcloth. “Miguel.”

“What, sweetheart?” I stared at him, feeling my mind begin to race. He climbed onto the bed, moving to where I was laying. He sat down between my thighs and gently began to clean the remains of him off of my skin.

“You didn’t… you didn’t use a condom and I’m not on birth control.” I said. I could feel my heart beginning to race. Why wasn’t this bothering him in the same way?

“You’re my wife.” He said as he wiped my skin.

“Miguel.” I repeated. I wanted him to react.

“What are you wanting me to say?”

“Anything.” I said. I wanted some kind of actual reaction.

“Things are exactly as they need to be. Whatever happens, happens.”

“That’s not an answer.” I said.

“Maybe you need to learn to be happy with what you’re already working with.” He finished cleaning me up and then walked to the bathroom. He had made sure to only clean the skin outside of my body. He didn’t try to remove any of the fluid inside of me, despite how much there was.

He came back to the bed and quickly climbed in. “You should get some sleep.” He said. I stared at him, searching for some idea about what he was thinking. He offered a soft smile in return.

Was he fucking with me?

Did he really love me or was he just using me as a quick screw?

Did he actually want me to be his wife… or was this some fucked up mind game of his?

He leaned back against the pillows and then lifted his hand. He curled a finger toward him, motioning for me to come. “I’m not a dog.” I muttered.

“Then be a good girl and do as I ask.” He reached forward and gently grabbed my body. He slid me closer to him, moving me so that my head lay against his bare chest.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Afraid so.” He said. He placed one hand on my shoulder and the other on my side. He slid his fingers up and down either side of my body, taking in every soft dip and curve. Every so often he would lean down and kiss the top of my head.

I couldn’t help but notice the way that his fingers traced over my lower stomach. He looked wistful as he traced the soft skin. I squirmed, feeling insecure.

“Stop wiggling and get some sleep.”

“Then stop feeling me up.”

“I’m not feeling you up. I’m trying to be nice to you.” He murmured against the top of my head. He pressed another kiss against my hair.

“You’re an ass.” I muttered. I rolled his eyes as he continued to pet my bare skin. His heartbeat played in my ear.

As I began to drift off to sleep, I felt him begin to play with my frizzed curls. He would coil a stand of hair around his finger and then let it go, satisfied with the soft curl that had formed.

It was something that my Miguel liked to do, as well.

Maybe they weren’t all that different.

I heard his strong heartbeat against my ear as I faded away from the room.

Before I fell asleep, Miguel pressed a gentle kiss against my forehead. “Please don’t leave me.” He whispered.

I love you...

#miguel o'hara #Miguel Ohara smut #Miguel o'hara smut #Miguel O'Hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #Miguel ohara x you #Miguel o'hara x you #Miguel ohara imagines #Miguel ohara fanfiction #spiderman99 smut #spider verse smut

3K notes · View notes

solarmorrigan · 5 months

Note

For the angst prompt thing: Steddie and "Don't fucking touch me."

Hello! Thank you very much for sending a prompt, I'm sorry it took me so long to post, but I do think this one is my favorite out of all the fills I've done for this prompt list <3

[No warnings; Unnamed Freak (who apparently got a name in the most recent novel, but I didn't know that at the time) is named Oliver]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

“I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” Steve leans in to murmur in Eddie’s ear, even though the music isn’t that loud.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie nods, and only just keeps himself from turning to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss when he feels the brush of his lips against his ear; it’s not his fault he’s developed some kind of Pavlovian association between having Steve’s mouth anywhere near his skin and receiving kisses – but they do have company.

Said company is just Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver, but still. Eddie has some decorum.

Steve stands from the couch and the arm he’d had slung around Eddie’s shoulders slides away slowly, his hand brushing warm and heavy over the back of Eddie’s neck, thumb stroking once, familiarly, along the side of his throat before disappearing entirely as Steve moves towards the front door. He doesn’t do so great with groups of people in small spaces anymore; the noise gets to him, and the heat generated by so many bodies in close proximity tends to give him a headache, so he takes breaks now and then, just to give his brain a few minutes to unbend.

The door swings open on silent hinges (Steve had attacked it with a can of WD-40 and a look of determination earlier today, insisting he couldn’t stand the squeaking anymore; he’s always doing things like that around the house – little repairs, organizing, picking things up, even though Eddie insists he doesn’t have to. He says he wants to, the endearing little weirdo) and Steve steps out into the cool evening, leaving Eddie and the boys behind in the warm light of the trailer’s main room.

“So,” Jeff says, looking up from his spot on the floor and gesturing vaguely at Eddie with his beer can, “how’s that going for you guys?”

Eddie blinks at him. “How’s what going?”

“The whole thing between you two,” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie raises a skeptical brow at him.

“You wanna talk about me and Steve having sex?” Eddie asks.

Jeff’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What? No.”

“Not ever,” Gareth jumps in.

“I mean…” Oliver says with a shrug, flinching when Gareth pelts him with a balled-up napkin.

“No,” Gareth reiterates.

“I refuse to apologize for simple curiosity,” Oliver sniffs, and Eddie, seated next to him on the couch, gives him a shove.

He’s glad his friends are accepting – supportive, even (he’d like to say he wouldn’t hang out with them if they weren’t, but let’s be real: nerds could be hard to come by in their neck of the woods, and as long as they were the quiet type of homophobic, Eddie would probably still play D&D with them. But he’s glad they’re not), but he does have some boundaries.

Like, one or two, maybe.

“I just meant the whole… dating thing,” Jeff says, taking a sip from his beer. “Because I’ll be honest, I really didn’t see it at first, but it actually seems to be working out.”

“Dating?” Eddie parrots blankly.

“Yeah. You guys are in, like, some kind of never-ending honeymoon phase or some shit,” Gareth says. “Hasn’t it been over two months?”

“Uhhh, no, I think you gentlemen are confused,” Eddie drawls. “Steve and I are not dating.”

This declaration is met with a moment of silence.

“Seriously?” Oliver finally says.

“Yep,” Eddie replies easily. “No relationship shit here. Strictly a friends-with-benefits-type deal.”

“Seriously,” Olver says again, flatly this time.

“Yes, Oliver, seriously,” Eddie huffs, reaching over to give him another shove, only to have his hand pushed away.

“Eddie, he was practically sitting in your lap just now,” Jeff says. “You two are all over each other.”

“Constantly,” Gareth adds.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like this is a big couch; we gotta squish. Anyway, Steve’s just a touchy kind of guy.”

“He doesn’t sit like that with any of us,” Gareth points out.

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t the ones receiving benefits,” Eddie says. “You want him to sit on your lap? You could ask.”

Gareth lets his head hang back with a noise of frustration. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Don’t you two go on dates?” Jeff asks. “I’ve seen you at the movies. You talk about going out to eat, doing other shit…”

“Yeah, see, that’s the friends part of friends with benefits,” Eddie snarks. “Friends hang out sometimes, I’ve been told. We are all, in fact, hanging out right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m dating any of you.”

“You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Oliver asks, and Eddie can’t help but scoff.

He appreciates the fact that Oliver is passionate about pretty much anything he does, but it also means he’s given to romanticizing. He doesn’t usually manage to drag Jeff or Gareth in with him, though.

“Pretty sure he looks at me like a friend, because that’s what we are.” Eddie rolls his eyes before offering a smarmy little grin. “I mean, I’m sure he looks at me as an exceptionally attractive friend, but that’s it.”

“Genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with us, man,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.

“Genuinely, I am not,” Eddie promises, taking the last viable swallow from his beer before getting up and heading for the kitchen, wiggling his empty can at the others with a raised eyebrow in question. Gareth raises his own near-empty can with a shrug and Eddie nods. “Look,” he says as he ducks towards the fridge, “Steve isn’t the kinda guy you have a relationship with, anyway, you know?”

Eddie doesn’t mean this in a negative way, just as a matter of fact. Steve just doesn’t seem to be a relationship kind of guy. Nancy had been something of an outlier, in how long she and Steve had lasted, and it had become clear after the dust from the Upside Down had settled that he really doesn’t have any interest in pursuing her further. Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Eddie how difficult relationships can be, and about how glad he is they have their thing together instead.

“Being with you is just… easy,” Steve had said; he hadn’t been looking at Eddie at the time, his face instead pillowed on Eddie’s chest, hair sticking to his naked skin where the sweat was still cooling from their last round, but Eddie could see the edge of a smile on his lips.

And Eddie doesn’t have much experience with relationships himself, but he knows that being friends with Steve is easy and that the sex feels equally easy and that the way he’d agreed with Steve and carded his fingers through his hair had sent Steve right to sleep with that same smile still in place.

Easy.

Now, Eddie shoves his head into the fridge and reaches for the beers that have somehow gotten pushed to the back. “It’s nothing major, okay?” he calls back towards the living room.

“Eddie…” Gareth calls back, an edge to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Eddie waves vaguely, making sure to grab a second beer. “Anyway, Steve’s a good friend, and he’s really hot, and we’re just having fun.”

The bang of the front door against the frame startles Eddie so badly he nearly smacks his head on the underside of the freezer as he stands, a beer clutched in each hand like he might be able to use them as projectiles.

There is no threat, though – just Steve, who had apparently failed to catch the screen door before it had shut too quickly behind him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s just standing there, staring at Eddie, color rising high in his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked, like he’s just been slapped.

Concern wells up from Eddie’s gut, and he opens to his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Steve finally speaks.

“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’m not having fun.”

Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, the beginnings of cold dread trickling into his veins well ahead of any conscious thought.

“I think I– I think I should go,” Steve says.

He grabs his keys from the side table by the door, where they’ve lived next to Eddie’s and Wayne’s for the last few months whenever he’s been at the house, and then he’s gone again, the screen door banging shut once more behind him.

And Eddie has no idea what just happened, but he knows it wasn’t good. He drops the beers on the counter and bolts out the door after Steve.

Steve is nearly to his car by the time Eddie scrambles down the front steps, and he’s paying absolutely no attention when Eddie calls after him.

“Steve,” Eddie tries again, stumbling to a stop right behind him as he jams his keys into the driver’s side lock. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, what–” he reaches out, wrapping one hand around Steve’s bicep, and Steve jerks out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Steve snaps.

Eddie pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away, entirely baffled by the sudden turn the evening has taken. “What the hell happened back there?”

Steve goes still, grip going lax on his keys. “I heard what you said, Eddie.”

“About – about what? Are you mad I was talking to them about us sleeping together? Because, Steve, they already knew,” Eddie insists, a little incredulous. “You said you were fine with them knowing! You were practically feeling me up in front of them!”

“I don’t give a shit if they know we’re having sex!” Steve hisses, finally whirling around to look at Eddie. “I meant the rest. About how I’m not the kind of guy you have a relationship with.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. He hadn’t realized that was such a sensitive subject. “I – shit, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t think you wanted–”

“About how we’re just having fun,” Steve cuts in, and if he’d sounded raw before, his voice is practically ground down to nothing now.

That brings Eddie up short. “…aren’t we?” he asks after a moment.

Steve says nothing.

“I mean, shit, Steve, it’s not like we’re in a relationship,” Eddie says, offering a little laugh, because even Steve would have to admit that the idea is a little silly.

Except.

Except Steve just glances away, staring at the ground beside Eddie’s feet, and – oh, shit.

“Oh, shit.”

Steve is still unnervingly silent, one arm curled around his middle while the other hand comes up to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. He still won’t look at Eddie.

“You… you thought we were,” Eddie says dumbly, and Steve shrugs.

“Can you blame me? We spend all our time together, Eddie. I’m here more than I’m at my own house, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve slept in my own bed in the last month. We go out and do things together, I try to keep things nice around the house because I want Wayne to like me, we have, like, a lot of sex, and– we… I mean, we kiss and touch and just – do shit like that even when it doesn’t lead anywhere.” Steve shrugs helplessly, finally looking up. “I mean, Christ, Eddie, what did you think we were doing?”

“I thought we were friends!” Eddie insists. Steve throws him an incredulous look and Eddie amends, “With benefits!”

“Right.” Steve’s expression flattens back out, going cold and hard and unlike anything Eddie’s become used to from him. “Because I’m not the kind of guy you’d want to have a relationship with.”

“I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship!” Eddie snaps. “It’s not like you stay with anyone for very long, so I just assumed you didn’t want to be with anyone.”

Some of the ice retreats from Steve’s face, leaving a watering kind of hurt in its stead. “Do you listen to me at all when I talk?”

“What? Of course I do!” Eddie might have gotten turned around in certain respects, but he will not have his merits as a friend called into question; of course he listens to Steve.

“Are you sure? Because I talk about you an awful lot. I talk about doing things with you, about doing things in the future with you,” Steve says pointedly, “about how I want to stay with you.”

And Eddie had wanted Steve to stay with him, too. He’s just been thinking – well, he’d thought it was because they get along so well, that Steve had wanted to stick around. That it had only made sense.

“We never talked about… being anything else,” Eddie says, the protest a little weak even to his own ears. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

Steve pulls a sharp breath in, pinching at the bridge of his nose again; he leaves his hand there this time, eyes scrunched shut. “Just a few days ago, I told you how much I liked being with you. How good and how easy it felt compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with,” he says, barely more than a rough whisper. “And you said…”

I like being with you, too.

Eddie had said that.

He’d meant that he likes being around Steve, likes being his friend, definitely likes having sex with him, but he’d said it while combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, while cuddled up with him in bed, and – okay, yes, he can see the mixed signals there. He can see where Steve might have gotten the idea that they didn’t have an arrangement, that they were just together.

“I– I didn’t mean–”

“Obviously,” Steve snaps, dropping his hand from his face and turning back towards his car.

Eddie tsks, frustrated, and reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist – not pulling, just trying to keep his attention.

“Don’t,” Steve warns him, pulling back from his grasp for a second time.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Eddie tries desperately. “I really… I really didn’t.”

“Yeah. I can see that. But Eddie…” Steve is quiet for a moment, posture so tense and still that Eddie suspects he’s not even breathing. “I’m probably the best-qualified asshole around to tell you that you really have to fucking think about how what you’re doing affects the people around you.”

Somehow, that stings more than any screamed insult Steve could have thrown at him.

“Steve…”

“I’ll come get my shit out of your place tomorrow,” Steve says, low and sharp, before getting into his car and slamming the door behind him.

After that, Eddie has no choice but to step back or get run over, and he watches until Steve’s taillights are no longer visible.

He can hear the hissing of some whispered conversation just beyond the door as he trudges back up the front steps, but his friends fall conspicuously quiet the moment he steps inside.

“…hey,” Gareth finally ventures after several seconds of awkward, sticky silence.

“Hey,” Eddie says flatly.

“Do you… want us to stay?” Jeff asks.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “I think I should… I need to– think about shit.”

The boys all nod, throwing him variously sympathetic glances and clapping him on the shoulder on their way out. Oliver pauses, as if he’s going to say something, but Gareth gives him a shove and gets him out the door before he has the chance. Probably for the best.

Eddie feels numb as he trudges back towards his room, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He flops down on his bed, face landing in a pillow that smells entirely too much like Steve’s shampoo. Probably because it’s on the side of the bed that Steve always takes. Next to the nightstand with the small stack of sports magazines that definitely aren’t Eddie’s. And the spare pair of glasses that also isn’t Eddie’s.

With a low tug in his gut, Eddie realizes how much of Steve’s stuff has crept into his room, into the trailer, into his life – how much Steve has become a part of his life, how much of Eddie’s day has been built around him, how much he’s come to lean on his presence, has come to want him there.

And Steve is going to take it all back sometime soon. Take all of his things away before he removes himself from Eddie’s life, too, because Eddie hadn’t been thinking and he hadn’t been careful and he hadn’t realized–

Eddie’s pretty sure he just broke up with Steve.

He’s also pretty sure he hadn’t wanted to.

His main consolation, as he curls up on his side, nose still buried in Steve’s pillow, is that as soon as Robin hears what happened (and she will hear, he has no doubt), she’ll probably come murder him.

At least he won’t have to wallow for long.

Part 2

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #smallspaceplant #eddiesteve #listen Steve is u-haul lesbian flavored and Eddie is I know we're married but do you like me? lesbian flavored - you feel?#anyway I shouldn't be allowed to use tags on less than six hours of sleep!#answers from solar #solar wrote #hurt no comfort #edit: now with a continuation that will eventually include comfort

1K notes · View notes

bratfiction · 10 days

Note

DILF!simon is rotting my brain rn and i need more<3

consider this a follow-up to this post.

18+ CONTENT, MDNI -> themes & warnings: f!reader, heavier / plus sized!reader, mentions of weight gain, pregnancy + parenthood, simon is a handsy pervert (out of love) in every scenario, some sneaky bathroom sex.

many grueling months fly by and as expected, a baby is born. and yes— as cliché as it may sound, everyone and their literal mothers were right when they said all the discomfort and fussing would be worth it the second you see your pudgy, bundle of joy. a baby girl with wispy blonde hair and a scowl that could rival her father’s any day. she’s perfect. the spitting image of all the best parts of you and simon combined and oh, you’re crying again just thinking of it.

your shared world becomes a whirlwind of bottles and pacifiers and diapers, and neither of you would trade it for anything ever. not even simon who’s sure that your beautiful but screaming baby is definitely helping him go grey quicker as more time passes. until she’s eight months and mostly babbling instead of screeching— has rolls of fat on her arms and legs leading up to her tiny hands and feet, shiny eyes, and cheeks that make your hearts melt into puddles. again, she’s perfect. your whole family agrees, too.

as simon says, your whole entire fuckin’ family— he wasn’t too happy when they shared they’d be visiting. mostly because you already have too much to worry about and now being a pretty, little host is thrown into the mix. you don’t seem to mind much as you walk around the get together with the baby on your hip, checking on everyone to see if they’ve helped themselves to enough food while your baby giggles along. his two sweet girls.

“thought i’d never catch up t’you,” he gruffs behind you.

you hear the sound of him placing his can of beer down on the kitchen counter and before you can move on your feet to grab another out of fridge for him, he stops you.

“enough,” it’s not harsh. it’s breathy and amused— “just relax for a second, mumma. everyone’s fine, babygirl’s with your mum. breathe.”

breathe. maybe you forgot how to do that today.

at that, you melt against simon. you rest your dewy forehead against the stone wall of his chest and he’s quick to pat your head, to trail a hand down your back in a soothing caress. he doesn’t mean to reach the hem of your sundress. just happens naturally, and so does the way he grabs up your thighs that have gotten deliciously plump under the stresses of motherhood. filled you out in all the right places that he already loved so much. he could haul you up and have you right there— “simon, we can’t.”

“think we can do whatever we want in our house, dollie.”

you hate when he’s right, and you hate how you let him yank you into the bathroom down the hall of all places. the click of the lock makes whatever anxiety hanging around in your chest finally dissipate. you’re hoisted up onto the sink before you can bat your lashes at simon, and the next second you’re wrapped up in a nasty kiss he places on your lips. it’s nearly all tongue as you whimper into his mouth, tugging at his shirt while his own hands make quick work of your dress.

the material becomes bunched up around your squeezable waist, exposing your comfy panties to simon and leaving you half bare— “we’ve gotten too comfortable with quickies,” you cant help but whine the words out.

you miss the days of him laying you down and making you cum until you just can’t take it anymore, and vice versa.

“i know, i know,” he attempts to soothe you through sweet, rough kisses. “gonna take good care of you soon, promise.”

you nod along to his words. only to softly gasp when he finally pulls your undies to the side.

simon always takes a second to play with your pretty cunt, rubbing a thumb through your messy folds and circling your clit how you like it. loves to watch your thighs lock up and hear you squeal his name like you used to when you first started dating— some things will never change no matter how settled down you two are. his cock aches in his jeans as you pussy drools around nothing. you’re about to open your mouth, about to tell him you both need to hurry.

but he’s already unbuckling his belt, eager to make you forget that there’s other people in the house aside from you two for even a few minutes.

#⌨️.kit's writing #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut

646 notes · View notes

aeth-supremacy · 1 year

Text

König - Projekt Amor

Word count: 4.6k

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: When the lab you're clearing with König has a hormonal weapon you didn't expect, you try your hardest to control yourself from him, but you can tell he's wanted this for a while.

Warnings: Smut, poorly translated German, some canon typical violence, and drug-induced sex.

Notes: I know many of you follow me for Ghost Band stuff, which I will continue to write!! I’m just gonna leave this here for my CoD enjoyers too <3

“Hello, König!” You smiled, taking a seat across from him on the plane. You looked around for a moment, expecting to see more of the team. Surprisingly, it was just the two of you, plus a pilot. König wore what he always did, and you adorned your gear for more hands-on missions, as you normally opted to stay back and operate some of the computers back at base. Behind you, the door sealed and your pilot began procedures for liftoff.

“Hallo, süßes mädchen.” König said simply. You could tell his eyes creased slightly behind his hood. A small gesture that he was happy to see you. He fidgeted lightly with a sheathed knife, his leg bouncing as he thought. Despite not being able to see his face, he looked handsome. Maybe it was something in his eyes, or the way his shoulders rested on the seats of the small plane. You wouldn’t dare tell him, but you thought he looked gorgeous. As you were about to pipe up and talk to him, a voice rang in through your headpiece.

“Listen up, kids. We got something simple for you today, and I know it’s just the two of you. We’re dropping you by a small building near a forested area, it’s said to contain some bioweapons in a basement lab that we gotta take possession of. Do not split up at any time. Do you copy?”

“Copy, Captain.” You chimed.

“Copy.” König added.

“Alright. Trust each other, come back in one piece. I’ll have some folk in touch if you run into trouble. Out.” The radio buzzed out. You looked back to König again, his leg bouncing faster and his gloved fingers playing with the hem of his hood.

“Are you nervous, König?” You asked sweetly. You didn’t want to make fun of him, you never did. But you could see the fear in his eyes from what people had said before, his eyebrows shifting defensively before he remembered who he was talking to. You and König don’t go way far back, but you had known him for a few months and you had been nothing but kind. You’ve talked to him without minding his pauses to think, you’ve stayed up late to help him with paperwork or talk through his feelings, you’ve gone to lunch with him so he wouldn’t feel so lonely, in all honesty… you’ve done a lot for him. He had a deep appreciation for you that he never spoke about, but he knew it was there, and that it was possibly even something more than platonic gratitude.

“Hmm… not really.” He paused for a moment. “I have faith in our little team, very much so! I’d just hate for you to get hurt when only I can help you, kleine maus. I’m not very good at playing the medic.” He laughed nervously.

“I won’t get hurt, I promise.” Your eyes met König’s as you spoke, his gaze softening at your promise. You don’t have a clue, but he would do anything to protect you. “How far out?” You called to your pilot.

“Bout’ 25 minutes, ma’am!” He called back. You thanked him as you stood up, walking across the small gap to sit beside your teammate. He turned his head towards you, his hands dropping to his thighs and his leg calming. You made pleasant small conversation for the rest of the ride, both simply enjoying the presence of the other.

————

When you arrived at the site, you never would've expected it to be a place with biological weapons. In fact, you even wondered if you were dropped at the right location. From what you could see, the site was just a humble wooden house in the forest, almost like a cabin. Its yard and landscaping were neglected, the paths to the door becoming overgrown and the wildflowers taking over the areas beside the porch. König took the path in front of you, his rifle at his side and his large body pushing up to the door and opening it by force. The pilot and his plane took off behind you, leaving you and König to clear the building and search for information for a good while before he would return.

You marveled at the way that you and König could work together. König was a trailblazer, a spearhead. He pushed from room to room, opening doors by force and shooting first. He dropped bodies everywhere he walked, and it amazed you that the soft spoken, shy boy you knew from the plane was put on hold. It was his job, after all. König was working. You two pointed in different directions, backs nearly pressed together, becoming a beautiful dance of bullets and coming out practically unscathed.

With his knife in one hand and a heartbeat monitor in his other, König announced. “Clear!” A body dropping to the ground beside him as his knife returned to its sheath. You followed quickly behind him, holstering your pistol as you walked.

“The basement.” You reminded. “Where is it? Did you find the door?”

“Mmhmm.” He hummed. “Over here, liebling.” He nodded his head to his left. The lighting that emitted from under the door was different from the warm white of the house, almost a cool blue, like aggressive fluorescent lights. He hesitantly walked over to it, slowly turning the handle as you both got your guns out once more. The door creaked open eerily, “Me first.” König stated.

He ducked to get into the stairway, you following only steps behind him. He rounded the corner sharply, pointing his gun in the direction of any possible movement. There were only two people there, a woman and a white coat with her hands up in the air, and a man in all black gear with a gun pointed right at you. König didn’t think twice as he shot the man, his heavy body dropping to the floor with a thud. You and König moved forward to the woman.

“On the ground.” You prompted. She obeyed, getting on her knees with a wince and leaving her hands where they could be seen. König walked a few feet away to take a glance at one of the many computers set up in the room. He leaned down slightly, silently observing a laptop with a blue and white screen. Files illuminated its display, and König only grazed his eyes over them in curiosity. The computer work was your job, after all. You kept your gun pointed at the woman, only looking over at your partner for a few seconds to see what he was doing.

The woman saw her opportunity. She picked up an unmarked grenade off of the ground near her, pulled its pin and threw it at König as fast as possible. A guttural scream left your throat, a bullet instinctively blowing into her brain as you panicked with the most terrifying thoughts. König’s eyes widened as the grenade dropped to his feet. Rather than an explosion, the grenade simply leaked a pinkish substance from a few holes in its base, almost gas-like. As soon as he noticed it wasn’t going to explode, König picked it up and threw it up the stairs. The pink haze remained around him, his chest heaving as he attempted to calm himself down from his panicked thoughts of mortality.

“König, König!” You rushed over to him, a hand placing onto his chest as you pushed him into another room within the basement. He stumbled backward slightly, catching himself on a door frame as you backed him into the room and opened the door for him. It had no people, no gasses, it was just a simple single office. The lights were back to being a warm beige color. It had a few computers on one desk together, filing cabinets, a few desk chairs, a small fan in the corner, and a few little areas with bookshelves or plants. “It’s okay! I’m right here, you’re okay. I promise.” You assured König as you walked with him. You shut and locked the door behind you, placing your partner slowly down onto a plush desk chair across from the main desk. His wide eyes looked up at you, petrified.

“Oh Scheiße, was ist das? Was passiert mit mir Liebling?” He spoke quickly in his native tongue. You felt so horrible, letting something like that happen to him. You could tell how much his anxiety was beginning to affect him, his ability to speak English practically fleeting, and his words beginning to slur together ever so slightly. You attempted to give him space, but his hands flew to your waist as he panicked. “No! Don’t go-” The look in his eyes tugged at something in your heart. He looked miserable, like he was so helpless he could almost cry.

That’s when you knew something was very wrong, König was far from helpless. You’d seen him destroy foes moments ago and how his eyes were pooling at the sight of you.

“I’m not going anywhere, König. I just need to take a look at their files, okay? I need to figure out what they threw at you. I’ll be right here. I’ll never leave you.” You assure. He nodded, his breaths calming as he let go of you slowly. The lack of your body made him antsy, the feeling of your body heat in his hands mysteriously making his ache from the gas relieve. He shut his eyes and let his head drop, heavy breaths leaving his covered lips.

You moved to the other side of the desk, punching in an access code to their computers as you desperately searched their files. The screen illuminated with documents, hundreds of reports and tests written out in front of you. You scrolled past what your captain wanted you to find, your mind only being set on König. You needed to help him. He is what you cared about, fuck the mission.

“Will I die?” König muttered while staring down into his lap, almost too quiet for you to hear. Almost like he was asking himself.

“No! No, I will NOT let you die.” You typed furiously as you sifted through the files on all the lab's projects, past and future. Until you landed on one… Project Cupid. The title page included a blueprint and prototype of the exact grenade thrown at König. Your eyes sifted over the lab report, hoping for an idea of what he was going through.

“Es ist so heiß hier drin… it’s so hot-” He whined. He threw off his vest, rolled up his sleeves, and took off his helmet and gloves. His hands shook as he attempted to relieve himself of his discomfort, his sorry attempts proving useless to the crawling in his skin. “I can’t take it, maus… lass mich dich noch einmal berühren…” He begged from behind his hood, his hips shifting in the seat you had placed him in. His native tongue caused his voice to rasp, he was almost growling as he spoke. He threw his head back, his eyes tracing the lines of the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m trying.” You urged. You read the symptoms, the outcomes, just anything that it could do to him. It was a sex bomb. A pheromonal gas. König was squirming and sweating out of his mind. Being this way wouldn’t kill him, but you could tell he was uncomfortable. His chest was heaving, his forearms were sticking to the chair, and as you suspected, a painfully prominent tent was in his pants. “Holy shit…” You whispered.

“What? What?” He asked as his view shot back to you. “What is it?” He looked at you with desperation, his eyes begging behind his hood.

“You… you won’t die, König. You’re being affected by a pheromonal gas. It’s gonna feel really hot, you’re gonna be pretty uncomfortable, and you’re probably pretty… aroused?” You attempted to explain. König groaned.

“Oh fuck-” He began. “I’m so sorry, maus. Fuck- I never should’ve let this happen. I’m so- ahhh- Es tut mir leid. I should've been more careful…” He moved his hips lazily as he spoke, the friction from his pants alone almost causing him to moan. You looked at him from across the desk, his eyes squeezing shut with every movement and his hands going white-knuckled on the arms of the chair. The reports told you exactly what you needed to know. You knew he was gonna be like this for a while, especially if you don't help him.

But you couldn't. Not when the reports explicitly told you he wouldn't be thinking straight soon.

“Everything is okay! We’ll get you through this, König. How about you lay down on the ground for a second? It’ll be colder down there.” You moved from your spot at the desk and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tensed at the touch, his teeth clenching as he tried not to make a sound. Even a touch as small as that, a simple graze to his clothed shoulder, he wanted to tear your clothes off and fuck your brains out.

“O- of course. Yes… I’ll do that.” He got up slowly, his legs weakly carrying him as he made his way to lay in the middle of the room, his large body relaxing against the cool concrete floor. He was still breathing heavily, and you could still see that sweat was trailing down his forearms. His back relaxed against the floor, his face looking upwards at the ceiling. The lights danced in his vision, his mind hazed with lust.

You felt bad, so bad. But there wasn’t entirely anything you could do, you knew his headspace wasn’t entirely clear and he didn’t want to do anything that either of you would regret. “Is that better?” You asked. You stood a few feet away from him, looking down on him.

He trailed his big hands along the black athletic pullover that he always wore under his gear, quickly undoing the zipper and pulling it over his head. It took a bit of his hood with it, revealing his open mouth and a part of his nose. What you could see was stunning. Scattered stubble, soft lips, faded scars. Shockingly, König didn’t care that part of his face was showing, or maybe he didn’t even notice. His chest was bare and toned, the sweat and scars together making a gorgeous view. His stomach didn't present as all abs, he still cutely supported a soft belly. “So heiß…” He simply responded.

“What was that?” You asked.

“It’s so… fucking… hot.” He panted. You nodded, briskly walking over to the fan in the corner of the room and turning it onto high as a last resort. You looked around, looking for anything else that could help him. “Please… please help me, schöne taube. Let me touch you again.” He sat up from his position, his hood falling back down. He backed himself into a wall, the cool paint pressing onto his back and forcing a moan from his lips. You walked over to him, not quite understanding what he meant.

“Does that help you, König? Do you feel better when you hold me?” You hadn't read that this would help him in the reports, but you really did desperately want to help him. You hated seeing him like this, this distressed and distraught state. You held out your hand to him. He grabbed your it with greed, pulling you down onto your knees to be with him on the floor. His mind was moving faster than his mouth, his lips babbling on as he pulled you into him. You rested next to him, your thigh touching his. He placed his hands along your arm, holding it gently and placing your hand on his clothed cheek, beginning to run it down his chest.

“So much better… so sehr… please, please- I need to touch you more. Please. I need to feel your skin against mine, schöne. Fuckkk- I need you!” König babbled. You could see his hips moving, his cock aching within his pants. He attempted to drag your hand down to the tent, but you sharply pulled away.

“König, I can’t. I can't touch you… like that, I’m sorry. I know you’re not thinking clearly… I can’t do that to you when you may not really want it.” You spoke, bringing your hand back up to hold his cheek. He whined at the touch, his own hand dipping between his legs to press down on where they met. He looked into your eyes, sweetly, and let out the most beautiful moan you had ever heard.

“Scheiße, bitte, ich meine es ernst! I’ve wanted you since I met you, mein schatz. Please, pleaseee. Fuck, fuck- just fuck me, I beg of you! I ache, I need you. I promise I really want you. I want you so bad!” König continued his begging as he clawed at his belt, his ungloved hands easily undoing it. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I can't take it-” König quietly realized that he might've sounded ridiculous.

You looked down at his tented pants, and back up to his eyes. You nodded at him. He was serious, something about his eyes told you so. It was all coming back to you now. The way he would relax into you when you sat next to him, when he would laugh with you at lunch, when he would ask you out for drinks between just the two of you, even when he would reach the top shelves for you. He liked you. Damnit, he might just love you. “Just promise me you won’t regret this later.” You pleaded.

König lifted his hood and threw it off of his head. His eyes met yours as he sighed with the relief of showing you his whole face. His eyebrows were knit together, his eyes showing a needy side of him you never thought you’d see. “I could never regret anything with you, kleine maus.” He grabbed you by the waist once more, bringing you onto his lap. One of his hands flew up to the back of your head, making a fistful of hair and pulling you into a messy kiss. You gave in instantly, your whine being muffled by his own.

The way he handled you… you could feel a wave of lust take over your body. His hands ran down your body, his fingertips trailing and tracing every part of you that he could as he muttered his gratitude to you. He tugged at your shirt, undoing the tuck you had done so perfectly in the morning. His hands ran into the bare skin of your stomach, a happy groan coming from his throat. “Oh god… thank you so much, maus. Your skin- mein gott. It’s like heaven.” Your hands shot to the side of his face, your kiss deepening as you pressed your chests together. König’s hands pulled your shirt upwards, your arms lifting to allow him to fling it somewhere in the room.

His hips still needily rutted against yours, your mind slipping from sane thoughts every time you felt his hard cock brush up and down against you. With every kiss, you felt like you were about to break, and he did too. He felt horrible, he knew he wasn't properly preparing you. Normally, he would have laid you out and stretched you with his fingers and wetted you with his tongue… but this was no normal occasion.

You moved your hands away from his face to tug at your belt, removing it and tossing it behind you. König noticed, his hands falling from your stomach to the hem of your pants. He nudged at the button, undoing it and sliding your pants off of you while you helped him. Except for your underwear and boots, you were bare for him. You had never been this exposed to him before, and the look on his face told you he couldn't be more excited.

Gently, König slipped a set of two fingers down past the lip of your panties. His half-lidded eyes met yours, praise seeping from his lips as he grazed your soaking pussy and pressed his fingers lightly onto your clit. “Oh je, du hübsches Mädchen! Do you want me this bad? This is for me? Danke~ you're so good for me.” He practically growled into your ear. You nodded at him in response, your head resting on his shoulder as he sank his fingers in. “Perfect, my love.” He groaned. “Mmm, I’m gonna fuck you so good. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

Fuck, you didn't know he would be so vocal like this. Maybe it was the added hormones talking, but you loved it either way. As you desperately reached down to König’s pants, he drug his fingers out of you and placed them into his mouth. He hummed against the taste, his eyes admiring you pulling down his pants like you'd die without feeling him. He watched your eyes widen as you met with his hard cock, and he knew this would happen. He wasn't just impressive in the field or in the height department. “K- König I-” You began.

“Shhhh, kleine maus. I know, I know you can take me. C'mere, let me help you, please.” König’s hands traveled along your hips, bringing them to hover over his cock. Even under the influence of a hormonal drug, he cared. He looked up at you, a softness in his eyes as he used one hand to line himself up with your cunt. “Deep breath, love.” He instructed, his thick tip poking at your entrance before it slipped into place within you. You let out a strangled moan as you felt the burning stretch of his cock. Konig stopped begging as much now, he knew he had you. You were whining desperately as he spread you apart.

“Holy shit, König! Oh fuck- God, you're so big-” You whined, König’s arms continuing to push you down onto him. The feeling gave a subtle burn, your muscles tensing and trying to relax. He gave you a soft smile, wrapping his arms around you and hugging your waist as your hips pressed back into his, closing the distance and pressing him deep inside. You hugged him back, your arms resting on the top of his broad shoulders. His hips desperately shifted upwards, begging to fuck into you.

After a few moments of deep sighs and adjustment, you told him you were ready and his hands returned to your waist. He lifted you with ease, his strong arms guiding you to bounce up and down and coat this thick cock with your juices. “Heilige scheiße! You’re so good- you… you feel so good!” He pleaded. “Danke, mein leibling!”

He looked at you in amazement, his hands traveling up to take off your bra as you rode him at a slow pace. He flung it somewhere in the room, his hands on your tits and his fingertips digging into them with need. He looked hypnotized, watching your pussy engulf his huge cock in a way he thought no one could. You cured his ache so well, he just wanted to destroy you. He wanted to fuck you so hard you couldn't think. He wanted to claim you from the inside and ruin you for any other man. You're his. His dick still ached inside of you, his sensitive head hitting the most perfect spots inside you as he craved more.

“Please, can I please take control of you? I need it, baby. I need to fuck you my way. I need to ruin you, schöne taube.” König’s grip back on your waist tightened as he waited for your answer. You felt his sweaty chest against yours, your bodies sticking together. It made you whine, your nesitive nipples grazing against the rough of his chest.

“Please…” You begged. “I need you, König. I need you so deep and strong and-” Before you could even finish, König had flipped the two of you, Your back pressed against the chilled floor, your thighs folded into your stomach as König placed your legs on his shoulders. His hands pressed on the back of your thighs, shoving and manipulating them into the position he wanted to ruin you in. You moaned loudly as he slammed deep into you, a penetrating force so strong you could almost cry. “König! Fuck, you're so good!” You yelped.

König was deep in his drunken haze, his hands pushing your squishy thighs back so he could fuck you deeper. He fucked you with a much faster pace now, the sound of your skin meeting echoing as you whined helplessly beneath him. He traced his hand down to your clit, his thumb tracing lightly along your nerves. “Oh, ja, scheiße! Take me, sweetheart. Take me, take me, take me!”

He leaned down, a soft kiss being placed on your lips to contrast the rough fuck he was giving you. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you tightened down on him, his big hips continuing to fuck through the tightness. His aching flared again, his cock twitching as he fucked you. God, he needed to cum so badly. He needed to cum so badly this whole time. Ever since he took a breath of that drug, he laid his eyes on you and imagined fucking you into oblivion. Hell, he imagined it long before that. He imagined it alone in his room after long nights drinking with you, or even on days when you only said a single word to him.

You brought your hands up to his face, holding his soft cheeks and looking into his eyes as you spoke. “Do you wanna cum for me, König? You're doing so good for me.” You smiled at your subtle tease, his eyes melting as you spoke. It was like you had just read his mind. You went on a limb that he would like what you said, but he confirmed that by fucking into you faster. He let out growls and grunts with every thrust, throwing away the idea of embarrassment and anxiety and embracing the hormonal drug running through him. His thrusts began slipping, your walls tightening down harder on him as you chased release too.

“Mmm…schatz, I’m going to cum! Can I cum for you?” He groaned, his sloppy thrusts becoming unpredictable. Your cunt spazzed around him, your juices coating him further as your back arched in unimaginable pleasure. You felt the coil in your stomach snap, a scream of König’s name leaving your lips as he drug his cock out of you. As you laid out on the floor, spent and breathless, König sat on his knees above you and wrapped his hand around his cock. He stroked himself with urgency, his head flying back as he groaned your name. “Oh hübsches Mädchen, du fickst mich so gut!” Your wetness coated his cock and his hand, cum quickly shooting from the tip of his dick and landing beautifully on your stomach.

König slumped back against the wall, his hand returning to his side and his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths. He looked around for his shirt, leaning over to get it and making it into a ball, whispering to you as he made his attempt to clean you up. “Danke… you were so good to me. I’ve wanted you like that for so long.” He mumbled. “What would I do without you?” He asked. You giggled, your hand reaching to hold König’s. He smiled at you. You both took a moment to breathe, collecting your clothes, putting the back on, and gathering the data you had been sent for.

You leaned over the lab computers, plugging in a flash drive as König called in and requested evac. As you typed, König walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His masked cheek pressed against your back. “Can we please cuddle when we get back to base, maus?” He mumbled, squeezing you gently.

“Absolutely, König.”

#könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig smut #könig x you #konig x reader #konig smut #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig fanfiction #call of duty mw2 #könig mw2

4K notes · View notes

ghostlyangels1204 · 2 months

Text

The moment Simon Riley came home.

Cont: Fluff, vague and quick mentions of blood, death (he's a soldier, I mean), Simon being more Simon than Ghost. <3 He's a precious, deadly soldier :(

The moment Simon walked through the door, he felt the tension lift off his shoulders. All the weight of the world had rested upon them since he left months ago; blood, death and bullets surrounded him. Finding him in the dark, hunting him down.

But now, he could leave that all behind him. He could leave his worries, stress; all of it, tucked away in his rucksack that stank of the battlefield. He drops it to the floor, the thud emanating down the halls. With a roll of his tense shoulders, he walks through the house- on the hunt. Searching.

You usually waited for him, perched on the sofa with a cup of tea; one of your favorite trashy shows playing in the background, like you were watching it with him. But, this time, he can’t hear anything. He can’t hear the loud laughs from the TV, can’t hear your sickly sweet giggles. He feels as if he’s gone deaf. It is late, he reasons with himself. Maybe you fell asleep?

And with no lights on in the house, his mind goes into mission-mode. You’re the prized package, and he needs to find you. He turns what feels like corner after corner, round and round, waiting to see just a glimpse of the life he left here. But nothing.

With long strides, he turns into the living room, face to face with the mountain of pillows left in a basket in the corner of the room. The pillows he all but begged you not to get, “Love, we already have enough pillows, we don’t need two more. The sofas gonna’ be like a bloody bouncy castle,”. If 141 could see how you’d wrapped him around your finger- they’d ask Laswell if the Cartel had cloned him, opting to swap one of their own for the monster on the battlefield that is, Lieutenant Ghost. Anything to keep you happy, that was his motto. And those pillows, as gaudy and expensive as they were, did just that.

As he flicks the lamp adjacent to the sofa on, his vision tunnels.

There.

There you are. You had waited for him. You kept your promise, and he kept his.

He tightens the laces of his boots, the cotton nearly snapping from how tightly he winds them out of his own frustration. You’re standing right there, right in front of him, watching as he prepares once again. Like his own obedient little soldier. “You promise you’ll come back to me?”, “As long as you’re there waiting, my love.” And that was it, with a firm, but delicate- you all over, he quips- kiss from your lips to his, a mark of his strength, he walks out the door. Leaving his little soldier behind.

But now, he’s here. And so are you, curled up with a blanket, deep in the throes of sleep. Whispered breaths leaving your lips as you dream. He can’t help but feel like he’s in his own dream.

Slowly, and as quiet can be- Simon walks over to your sleeping figure, and drops down beside you. His face resting on your stomach, inhaling your sweet scent, anything to ground him. For him to recognize where he is.

That’s the moment, Simon Riley came home.

Word Count: 542

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #call of duty #ghost x reader #fluff #cod modern warfare #cod fluff

910 notes · View notes

donotpush · 2 months

Text

Daily vlog

CW: mpreg, sort of magic pregnancy, birth denial, car birth

"So..." Adam smiled, holding the camera over his head, to get his best angle. "Are we filming Baby #3 birth?"

Adam asked, turning to look at his wife, and at the camera again with another smile without waiting for Alissa’s reply.

His hand traveled to spank Alisa's tight, bare belly, leaving the mark of his palm over the sensitive skin and making her groan slightly. Adam nodded enthusiastically before talking to the camera again. "Of course we are! What do you think, huh? It's a tradition at this point, right, honey?"

Alisa took a deep breath, putting herself together before looking at the camera and giving her best smile. She had been up since 5 am this morning, with a crying baby hanging from her hip and a sick toddler throwing up all day long, and honestly, the last thing she wanted to do right now was to expose herself to the camera.

But Adam insisted. How could they let their followers down without a daily vlog today?

He couldn't, and he was gonna post that vlog. Of course, who wouldn't have the energy to produce, film, edit, and post a vlog when you wake up at 10 am and do exclusively nothing all day?

Alisa knew that it was their job, that the moment they signed up for the influencer life, their whole purpose (and not like she was complaining, there were moms out there that had real jobs and still had to deal with way worse than her) but she did expect some empathy from her husband.

She was about to pop, literally, this baby out. Everything was crazy, from her hormones to the altered routine in the house, but as always, Adam was blissfully unaware of the chaos that surrounded their lives right now.

“So, there you go” Adam winked at the camera, “Actually, our next blog will probably be Baby’s #3 birth, right honey?”

Yes, it was gonna be another birth vlog. This morning when she looked at herself in the mirror, Alissa realized that her stomach had dropped, tight and bloated past her hips, the taut skin stretching to its limits today seemed like it was about to burst.

So, yes, the next video on their channel Alissa was almost 100% sure it was gonna be a birth vlog.

“...maybe.”

She really wished that this time they could’ve done something a bit more… conventional. Private, away from all the cameras and views. With their last baby, Adam had the fucking camera in her face the whole process. From the moment she woke up to contractions to the moment she popped out the kid in the birthing tub. This time, she wasn’t in the mood for all that, no matter how many views it would give them.

Adam went on, ranting about something and talking about their sponsor they got earlier in the month, a really bad marketing job for a really bad product, but Alisa didn’t hear him because Ryatt was getting something she shouldn’t have inside her mouth. The blonde groaned as she clumsily tried to kneel down, reaching over her huge stomach to take the toy out of the baby’s sticky hand.

“Adam, help me here” she breathed, pointing to the baby with her hand.

Adam gave her a look, and outside of the camera frame, signaled her to wait. He talked about another one of their sponsors, said goodbye to their subscribers and their classic outro line (family always first, and y’all are family) to their subscribers, and just then walked over to help her after he turned the camera off.

“God, fuck…!” she groaned, holding onto her stomach as she struggled to stand up straight.

“Language” Adam raised an eyebrow, pointing at Ryatt with his head.

“Bullspit, I’m so darn over with this”, pointing to herself, Alisa looked down at her gravid stomach. “I’m so fucking done. I can’t wait to get this baby out of me and… And I told you I would prefer to keep his birth private, Adam”

The tone wasn’t stern or accusative, just done— deep down, Alisa knew her husband was going to do whatever he wanted anyway. Little choice she had.

“I know, I know…” Adam shrugged, his eyebrows raising and his mouth scrunching up.

He knew, of course, he did, but to be honest, he didn’t care enough. His wife was being dramatic as if she hadn’t gone over with this two times already. But he knew that he had to add something to fill the silence that followed, he always did have something to say.

“If I could, babe, I would carry our baby for you” he sighed dramatically, turning around and away from his wife. “Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now, honey…”

His words were left hanging in the air as Adam disappeared into the hallway to the kitchen, ready to grab a beer and sit down on the couch to relax for a while before getting to edit.

Actually, I wish I could be pregnant instead of you right now.

Alisa stared at his back as he disappeared into the kitchen. His nice legs and his toned arms, his perfect back and she couldn’t see the six-pack, but it was there. Because Adam didn’t have to carry two kids, to gain weight and to lose weight, to lose his six-pack or to see his whole body change in a matter of months.

It wasn't him who had to endure the contractions, the labor, or the long hospital nights while waiting to be able to spread his legs open and push.

He didn’t wish he could be pregnant. Oh, but Alisa did.

***

Alisa made breakfast, did laundry, got through the morning with two kids under 5 and all while dealing with those awful cramps that kept interrupting her. They weren't contractions, she knew those pretty well, but they were the foreword of a long story.

Adam? He edited their latest video and went to take a nap on the couch.

Without opening his eyes, Adam let out a small groan and tilted his head to hide his face against one of the cushions. Something had interrupted his sleep, but he didn’t hear Ryatt's cries or Bobby playing loudly somewhere in the house, nor his wife complaining about something.

So he did what everyone would do, he didn’t even bother fully opening his eyes and tried to go fall back into a deep slumber.

But something was off. His head was feeling dizzy and his whole body was… acting funny. An overall feeling of being sick, something he ate, probably.

He shifted, moving his hips to turn to his side, and he frowned when he felt something in his stomach move. With a groan, the hand that rested between his thighs slid off from there to move to his abs, rubbing the soft spot trying to ease whatever was grumbling inside his tummy.

Soft, a bit harder if he pressed down. But it didn’t have to be soft, he hit the gym 6 days a week and had washboard abs, he was the envy of all the suburban dads in their neighborhood. Suddenly, his stomach fussed again, and this time it came accompanied by a cold free of air brushing against his skin, making him shiver.

Half asleep, fighting to pull a strand of consciousness and get himself up fully, Adam’s features turned into a confused grimace as his mind finished coming back to this reality. When he finally opened his blue eyes, covering his face with his hands to dismiss the headache that the sunlight from the windows gave him, he immediately knew something wasn’t right.

His free hand was still rubbing over his stomach, and it was still… It was round. Round and firm, the protuberance that rested under the palm of his hand.

“What…?” Adam mumbled, confusion slowly taking over his sleepiness and pulling him back to reality.

He was wide awake now, his body and mind alert. When he looked down at himself, the scream of horror that left his lips almost deafened him, leaving his eardrums ringing loudly and his heart hammering against his chest.

It felt cold. The cold breeze brushing against his skin because his white shirt was now all lifted over to his chest, exposing his warm skin to the air. His shirt was lifted because where it was supposed to be a flat, toned stomach, now there was a fat, round belly, nothing like what he had ever seen before.

He must have eaten something bad, something that made him bloat and just feel weird overall, but bloat like this?

In front of him, his stomach wasn't just bloated, it felt tight and hot at the touch and the skin was itchy, stretched to the limit in what seemed to be the few hours he was asleep. His abs were gone, and now a gravid mount of flesh sat there, huge and tender.

From confusion, Adam's mind raced to fear, because there was no logical or reasonable explanation to any of this. If it was something he ate, then it was something that made him terribly wrong and he probably should head to the doctor ASAP.

But, deep down, Adam knew it wasn't something he ate. Under a thinning layer of denial, he knew.

His chest wrenched with his agitated breaths, and Adam tried to lift himself up from the couch. He failed, not used to the weight that he carried now on his middle (God, he was heavier now) and the only thing he could do was to lay there for a few seconds, staring down.

At his belly.

He felt like he needed to puke when unexpectedly something inside him squirmed.

He closed his eyes tightly to avoid nausea rising up in his throat, and the deprivation of one of his senses seemed to whip up the other ones. He could feel how hot the skin that covered his now rounded stomach was, how hot his body was, how heavy he felt and how something was squirming inside him.

His left hand moved over his stomach, right under his left rib, and he swallowed. As soon as his hand pressed down against the tense flesh, another tiny hand pressed back from the inside.

"Fuck, fuck fuck..." gripping at the couch's back, a loud moan escaped from his lips as he curled his fingers around the fabric above the couch, holding onto it desperately, lifting himself up.

It was, to say at least, weird to carry himself around now. The few seconds that he ran, well, more like waddled, towards the bathroom were something. So this was what it was like?

The image in the mirror proved what Adam already knew.

I wish I could be pregnant.

He stared at his reflection, turning to the side to let his eyes travel from the top of his head to his middle, then turned to his other side and to the front again. His hand moved to rest on top of his stomach as if he needed another confirmation that it was there and it was real.

He thought about it for a moment, before he pinched the tight skin of his belly. He hoped he would wake up, there was a small part of him that still hoped this was just a bad dream and his mind was doing some crazy tricks while his real body was still asleep on the couch. But he was awake.

The waistband of his sweatpants moved down a centimeter. He looked down, his eyes wide open as he witnessed right in front of him how his stomach swelled, the skin extended and shifting as his stomach grew in size.

***

The front door opened, and Bobby rushed in, throwing his frog backpack next to the door before Alisa followed him with Ryatt clinging to her hip. Adam made his way to her as quickly as he could.

“Oh! Mommy, look!” Bobby shouted as soon as he saw him, his little finger pointing to Adam’s gravid stomach. “Daddy has Little brother now! Look!”

But Adam couldn't even stop to look at him, because he could only focus on the fact that where Alisa was supposed to have a nine-month overdue belly, there was just a flat stomach. Fuck.

They stood in front of each other, Alisa looked at him, then down at his belly, and then up at him again.

“Well, I guess wishes do come true, honey!” The tone was so cheerful that it made Adam’s blood boil.

Probably…his hormones messing with him? As if that was the least of his problems. A cramp took over him, painful enough to bring a frown to his face and make him rub the side of his belly.

“We need to go to the hospital!”

“Why the rush?”

A dark spot started to spread all over Adam’s grey sweatpants as a gush of amniotic fluid came out of him.

“My…your…my water just broke!”

“You need to change, and we need to take the kids to my mom’s house…”

“Why are you so calm?”

“Relax, honey” she sighed “I have done this two times already! It’s gonna be just fine. You have to change, go get the hospital bag, oh, and of course get the camera!”

“We are not… fuck… filming this” he breathed, gripping the table next to him when another sharp pain took over him.

“What do you mean?” Alisa frowned as she picked up Bobby's backpack again “It's a tradition at this point. Of course, we're filming. It’s going to be a hit.”

Besides the fact that all of this escaped all logic and reason, there was a tangible reality. Something that was happening right here, right now, and it was the fact that Adam was in labor. Didn't matter how much he tried to deny what was going on, to say he was still dreaming, because the pains that were shooting through his middle, contracting the muscles and making him whine felt very real and were happening, quicker and faster every minute.

He took a deep breath, moving his hand under his belly to lift it slightly, hoping to ease the pain or the pressure that was starting to build up on his hips, but it didn’t work. He wasn't sure how much time he had before it got actually serious, but he did know that after his water broke, it was little.

“Turn that off…” Adam titled the camera that rested on the car seat cup holder away, his free hand flying to wipe sweat from his forehead. “Oh, fuck…”

Alisa tilted the camera back to its original position. Her husband shifted on the passenger's seats, his both hands now busy rubbing the contracting bump that rested between his open thighs.

Well, at least now he knew that contractions were more painful than a kick in the balls.

“Oh, oh, ah!” He cried out, his body tightening up, and a low groan leaving him as he leaned forward pressing his palms against the dashboard and panting heavily. “Fuck, I need you to… ugh… I need you to drive faster, honey.”

“Babe, I’m going as fast as I can,” Alisa replied, looking at him through the corner of her eye. “Just breathe, okay?”

Looking outside the window, Adam tried to find a distraction. Anything, really, that made him not think about the increasing pressure that was building between his legs and about how low the baby was.

He shifted in his seat, his hips swinging back and front trying to find a spot that didn't make him feel so miserable. Placing a hand on the side of the seat and another on the grab handle, Adam leaned forward and spread his legs as another loud grunt escaped his lips, his eyes closing tight and his breath picking up again when another tight contraction hit him.

He tried breathing, in and out just as he would tell Alisa to do, but it wasn’t doing shit.

The heavy weight on his hips and pelvis was getting closer and closer to coming out. Adam didn’t want it to come out. At least not here, in the fucking car in the middle of the road.

“We’re five minutes away from the hospital” Alisa reassured, her hand patting his tense thigh. “Just breathe”

“I don’t… ughn, fuck! I don’t know if I can… oh… hold it in that much longer” Adam panted, moving to unclasp the seatbelt that now pressed uncomfortably against his stomach. “Fuck, there’s pressure. It feels like… I have to push!”

“How do you even know that you have to push?” Stopping at a red light, Alissa raised both eyebrows before tilting to face him.

“Because it’s coming out!” Adam cried, moving back on his seat to prop up both feet against the dashboard, throwing his head back as he moaned.

“Just breathe. We’re almost there”

Just breathe. We’re almost there. The words were an echo, and Adam was sure that he said those exact phrases before, before the births of their two kids, in this exact same car. But he didn’t realize how useless, how annoying having someone repeating just calm down was.

God, fuck, he wondered how Alissa didn’t just slap him those times. If anyone was going to tell him to calm the fuck down again, he was going to kill someone.

His murder instincts were quickly dismissed when he closed his eyes, his hands moving to slide under his belly and lifting it slightly, as if it could help to ease the pressure on his pelvis. With a cry, he shifted forward, now moving his hands to slide under his thighs, lifting his hips from the car seat.

It was coming. Now. And out.

He could feel his own body pushing against his wishes, and the more he tried to avoid it, the worse it was, the baby helpless making its way down his pelvis and towards his hole. It felt as if at the first bump Alisa hit on the road the baby would just pop out of him.

He didn’t notice when he pushed back in the seat, breathing heavily through his nose as he pressed himself down against the seat, trying to prevent anything from coming out.

But it was useless because his commitment lasted little when his brain was overwhelmed by the urge to just allow his body to do what it had to do. To push.

The baby’s head was right there. Adam’s hand slid between his legs, the palm of his hand pressing against his bulging hole, the head sitting behind his entrance and almost ready to start crowning. Almost out of him.

“…fuck!” he writhed, gritting his teeth as he kicked against the car floor. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The fingers of his free hand gripped at the grab handle, knuckles turning white, and his other hand was busy pressing against his hole, trying to keep the head from coming any further. It was useless because the head was still pushing its way down, out of him on its own.

He could feel the bulge against his palm, growing ever so slowly as Alissa pressed her foot on the pedals. Adam threw his head back, closing his eyes shut and trying to focus on his breath. The same advice he always gave: breathe.

His chest rose slowly as he inhaled, then shakily exhaled through his closed lips. It should be fine, he just had to breathe —in and out and counting to five— focus on remaining calm, and he could just make it to the hospital. They were just a few minutes away, all he had to do was… push.

“Oh, fuck, it’s coming!” he screamed, kicking his feet in the air, his hips shifting forwards and to the seat edge. “Honey, Alissa, it’s right there”

Alissa tilted her head, looking away from the road for a brief moment to face her husband. She found herself contemplating an image that, deep down in her stomach, in a very hidden spot and a very small dose, made her happy: she got exactly what she wanted. Her husband going through all of the wonderful miracles of birth.

Adam panted, the tense orb his stomach had become contracting and tensing in front of him, his hands gripping at the taunt red skin, furiously trying to relieve the pain or the pressure, his body almost shaking by the urge of pushing the baby that was starting to crown. His face was red and sweaty, hands and all of his body straining and tense.

Alissa, rightfully, stopped at a red light, a bunch of cars passing in front of them.

“Don’t stop, fuck, it’s…!” Adam shouted, but then his words became a muffled groan as he gritted his teeth, pushing his chin to his chest. “I can’t hold it in, I’m pushing!”

Even against his wishes, his body was pushing. Adam found himself trying to hold the baby in, to not give in to the urge, but his body was pushing. His stomach contracted and he found himself tensing, chin to chest, and gripping at the grab handle as he pushed. He counted to three and pushed again when another cramp took over him.

“Fuck!” he shouted, feeling the head stretching him open, making its way out. Adam reached with a free hand to press his hand over his wet, birth-fluid-stained shorts, only to feel the start of a bulge in his pants.

The pressure of the head right about to crown was hell. It only made him want to push to get over it, to push more to get the head to a full crown and get rid of the uncomfortable feeling, but god fuck he didn’t want to give birth to this baby in the car.

“It’s crowning, the head’s-... nhgn, what am I supposed to do!?” it was more a whimper than a question, and Adam found himself kicking in the air, biting his lower lips until he almost drew blood. “Shit, shit, shit…! Ughn!”

“I don’t know!” Alissa stepped on the gas and accelerated. “Don’t push! Just… wait! We’re almost there, just five minutes away from the hospital.”

Adam nodded, then shook his head, both hands moving to cup the underside of his belly, trying to relieve the pressure that was weighing him down. It didn’t work, and he found himself trying to contain a moan when another contraction rippled through his body, a gush of amniotic fluid rushing from between his legs and dripping to the car floor.

His hips jerked frantically as he rocked forth and back slightly, trying to find any angle that was comfortable for him to keep this baby in, but it was terribly useless because, with every movement of his body, the baby's head seemed to come closer and closer to a full crown.

“Ughn…!” he moaned, his fingers gracelessly trying to slide under the hem of his pants in order to pull them down. The baby was coming. “Fuck, it’s coming, I’m pushing….!”

His finger’s ministrations were interrupted when he interrupted when another contraction took over him, all of his focus on pushing. He gripped the sides of his belly, leaving white marks on the red skin, as he closed his eyes and whimpered.

“Oh, oh– it’s out, the head’s out!”

It wasn’t necessary for him to say it out loud because Alissa’s attention was dangerously divided between looking at the road and staring down between her husband's legs. His pants were dark and wet, stained by amniotic fluid, and the baby’s head bulged out of them almost obscenely -–god, it was huge—, only contained from coming further by the fabric of the pants.

“Fuck— I need to push, I need to push, I’m pushing!” he moaned, throwing his head back against the car seat and jerking his hips forward, his hands desperately trying to undo his shorts. “Ughn…the…mhgm…pants! Help me!”

“I can’t, hands at 9 and 3!”

With a loud whimper, Adam finally managed to pull his shorts down enough to allow the baby’s head to pop out of him free, a gush of fluid dampening his seat as the head dangled between his legs. His body shook at the feeling of the head stretching him open on its biggest point, and then the relief when it was finally out. Alissa stared in horror as her husband held the baby’s head in hand with one hand between his legs.

Alissa reached a hand to help Adam slide his pants down more, his body contorting as he pulled forward, pushing his hips towards the free space of whatever was left in the car. Now with his pants to his ankles, his body tensed once again, and he squirmed on his seat as he focused on the next contraction that rippled through his body.

“...fuck, nhgn!” his face became red as his feet kicked the car floor, kicking and screaming as he pushed. “Nhgn!”

With his next push, the baby’s body almost came shooting out of him. He screamed in pain as he felt the body coming out of him, the shoulders being even worse than the head. But before he could realize, it was over. A second later he heard a heavy cry, and the newborn resting against his chest.

His body slumped against the seat. He looked outside the windows, seeing the well known entrance of the hospital as Alissa parked the car, parking it at the nearest spot available. Before unclasping her seatbelt, Alissa reached to grab the videocamera. Adam stared at it before he spoke.

"You filmed it, right?”

#birth kink #pregnancy #labor #birth denial #pregnancy fantasy #mpreg #fpreg #clothing birth #car birth #birt in car #trying to hold it in #stories

503 notes · View notes

alexwritingspot · 6 months

Note

hii!! I was wondering if you could write percy jackson x reader with prompt 3 or 7? I know that you wrote an enemies to lovers recently but those are the vibes that these two prompts give me. maybe it can be something else! feel free to do whatever you're comfortable with!! love you, thank u!!

Hidden feelings…

An unexpected convocation from the gods leads to a messy confession behind the closed doors of a elevator…

Prompts 3 and 7: “Wait- are you jealous?” “You wanna kiss me so bad~”

pairing: Percy Jackson x reader

word count: 1.4k

Warnings: none

————————————————————————————

A/n: Hi darling! I deeply apologise for making you wait so long! 😓 In the start I had promised myself I would have written your story pretty early, but then I didn’t have a scenario in mind! So I’m really sorry if you waited like- two months, before getting your request done, hope you won’t unsubscribe because of this 🧡😭 anyway, enjoy your reading!

P.S. I tried making this a bit longer as an apology

————————————————————————————

You couldn’t believe it. You were walking to the Empire State building with Percy Jackson, the famous son of Poseidon, the hero of the Olympus and also your enemy. You didn’t really hate each other, you simply couldn’t stand him because he always took the spotlight on himself, leaving the others with no time to shine. Even if he claimed that he didn’t want all the attention for himself and that he even tried to hide from the spotlight you didn’t quiete believe him. But here you were, walking by his side after a flash convocation from the Olympus, what did they possibly want?

You had tried to figure that out since Chiron had called you over at the big house, but you didn’t give yourself a proper answer. You kept walking and you tried to ignore the glances that sometimes Percy sent your way. “Today the sky is really cloudy” he said in a attempt to try and make conversation “I bet the king himself didn’t wake up with the right foot” he joked, trying to ease at least a bit the palpable tension between the two of you. “I bet that he’s going to fulminate you one day if you keep talking about him like that” you said with a sharp glare threw in his direction.

After walking for about ten minutes more you both arrived at the entrance of the enormous building. “Here we are” you said, and before Percy could add anything else you were already inside the skyscraper.

You entered the building and went straight to the receptionist “600th floor” You simply said, giving the poor employer a death glare. He looked back emotionless “we don’t have a 600th floor” he was doing his job, you didn’t really blame me for it. “Look, you’re talking to a child of g/p and a son of Poseidon so you better let us in-“ before you could finish Percy stepped in, gently pushing you aside.

“Sorry for my friend here, but you see, they are having a bad day and a convocation from the gods really was the cherry on the top, but we need to get on Olympus as soon as possible, you wouldn’t want Poseidon or g/p mad at you because you didn’t let their children up, would you?” He pulled out a confident smile and you rolled your eyes.

The man looked between the two of you before stamping something on a paper sheet. “And what might your names be?” He asked, and you were starting to lose it “Listen here you little-“ but before you could add anything else Percy pulled you back again “Percy Jackson and Y/N L/N, now may we enter the elevator… please?” He looked at the employer expectantly.

He stamped something else before getting up and starting walking “this way” Percy let out a sigh of relief. You and the son of Poseidon followed him until you were arrived “Have a nice trip to Olympus” he said flatly, before walking back to his desk.

The two of you entered the elevator and when the door closed leaned over the mechanical box’s “wall” to catch your breath.

”I’m not your friend” You suddenly blurted out “I didn’t come here to keep you company or anything, I came here cause I was summoned by Zeus himself, so don’t make up strange ideas in that head of yours.” You warned and crossed your arms.

He looked at you slightly hurt “Has a manticore stung you or something? You’re more bitter than usual.” You shot him a death glare but said anything, his eyes had caught your interest, they were beautiful… For Hades, what were you thinking?!

You quickly looked away and waited as it played in the background an old song named “You make my dreams (come true)” by some old singer you couldn’t remember the name of. You wondered who had chosen the elevator playlist, it had probably been Apollo or one of the muses.

You glanced around and found Percy staring over at you, he had a strange look on his face, and you couldn’t quite place the emotions he was feeling. “What is it? Do I have something on my face?” You asked, not because you were actually worried about your appearance, more to break the strange atmosphere that was building up.

He quickly shook his head “no no, I was just looking at you… you’d be even prettier if you smiled more sometimes” he stated, and you looked at him, your mouth slightly agape. You tried to hide the forming blush of your cheeks, but you failed miserably. At that he let out a chuckle.

That only made you blush more, the tips of your ears red from embarrassment. “I…” you tried to come back at him with something, but you just couldn’t, he was too handsome in that moment. “Just shut it, would you sushi prince?” It was meant to be a sort of mocking insult, but it came out cuter than you expected.

You saw Percy take a step closer “Sushi prince?” He ask, trying to be serious, but barely managing to hold in a laugh. “Yeah, cause you’re a son of Poseidon, and fish call you prince, and you use fish to make sushi-“ I looked up at him “you know what? Drop it, it wasn’t that great of an insult” You simply concluded.

“No why? No one had ever called me that, it’s… creative, let’s say” he tried. You gave him a look that said ‘really?’ And them the two of you bursted out laughing. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all…

You unintentionally took a step closer to the boy, there had always been something that had attracted you to him in the years, but you denied it behind the excuse that you didn’t like him, but oh boy if you did, liked him. But then something he said pulled you out of your thoughts. The elevator had stopped. Why? You asked yourself. Of course it would have been you.

He looked at you “there’s no need to worry, Annabeth explained me once how these things work, we just have to call in the emergency” he stated calmly as he pressed the yellow button. “Annabeth, huh?”you asked him. You couldn’t quite place what was the strange feeling that you felt in the pitch of your stomach when he named her, but you didn’t like it.

“Yeah, Annabeth” he replied and you just stared at him “you and her are pretty close, aren’t you?” You ask, annoyed. Percy just looked at you, slightly confused. “Well, yeah, but we’re only friends.” He stated, and you could hear in his voice that he was telling the truth. Then why didn’t you believe him? “Oh yeah, just friends, got it” you retorted back, and you cursed yourself for not having held your tongue.

He seemed surprised but then… a sly smirk formed on his lips. “Wait- are you jealous?” He smiled like a little kid on Christmas day. You looked away “No…” but your redness was hard to hide now. “You’re jealous! Oh gods, you’re all red” he laughed, and maybe, but just maybe, his voice wasn’t as annoying as you remembered.

“What if I am?” You then asked him, still leaning on the wall of the elevator. He smiled even more cheekily “No nothing, I just think it’s cute” he said, and leaned closer. You didn’t push him away, yet you didn’t lean in.

“Why do you hate me?” He asked “I don’t hate you” you paused “I just think you are incredibly self-centred sometimes” you admitted. “Oh, thank you” he replied sarcastically with a playful roll of his eyes “Just so you know, I don’t find you self-centred, annoying or anything like that, you’re just impulsive” he stated, and he was standing so close…

You glanced at his lips, because how could you not? You then forced your glance back on his. His usual smirk returned “You wanna kiss me so bad~” he teased and then leaned over the wall, pinning you to the elevator wall, but you weren’t intimidated. “So, what if I do, Jackson?” You asked in anticipation of what was about to come.

“Oh nothing” he answered and leaned closer, your lips just a few inches away “maybe I want too” and then his lips crashed onto yours, and nothing else mattered, it was only the two of you, and you wouldn’t trade that feeling for anything else.

#Percy Jackson #percy Jackson x reader #x reader #pjo #toa #hoo #percy Jackson and the Olympians #Annabeth chase x reader #pjo x reader #percy x reader #enemies to lovers #leo Valdez x reader #jason grace x reader #Piper McLean x reader #fluff #rivality #Son of poseidon #stubborn reader #Hero’s of Olympus

696 notes · View notes

fallingdownhell · 3 months

Note

If it's no bother the whole meeting family and sister being favoured ordeal but with Wanderer, Xiao, Childe and Tighnari please! Yummy comfort...🤤

Honestly.. I did my best with it, but I don't know if I'll do another addition to this from now on. It feels like I'm always writing the exact same thing, and I feel like it's getting boring and repetitive...

Let me know what you think about it, please, because I really don't know.

Characters Included: Wanderer; Xiao; Tighnari

Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; reader has a sister; hurt/comfort; mention of past (child) abuse; mention of child neglect; insults; slight racism against Tighnari; not proofread yet

Word count: 3,7k words

Requested by: @ahtopoteyto

Enjoy everyone<3

Wanderer

When you suddenly hit him with the question of wether he wanted to meet your parents or not, he was confused and slightly shocked. From what he had gathered over the time you've been dating, you did not have a very good connection with your parents.

You never really talked about them or told him stories about your childhood. The first few times he asked you about them, he vividly remembers how your face became pale and you simply stating that you didn't want to talk about this. So he let it be, not bothering you with it anymore.

So for you to suddenly ask him this after months of not even mentioning anything related to this subject, he found it highly suspicious.

"Where's this coming from so suddenly?", he asks, taking your hand and sitting you down on the couch next to him. He can already tell how much it cost you to simply ask him that question.

"W-well... I just thought that maybe it's something you'd want. I mean.. normally, in relationships, you introduce your parnters to your parents. So, I thought, maybe we should do that, too..?"

You sounded so meek and unsure of yourself, he hated to see you like this. He may not know the full story about what happened between you and your parents, but if it made you that uncomfortable just talking about them, then that's all he needed to know. He would never knowingly put you through something horrible.

So, to reassure you, he circled his arms around you, pulling you against his chest while placing his chin on top of your head as he just held you like this. "Don't force yourself to do something you don't want to do. Our relationship isn't exactly normal anyways. I don't care about meeting your parents. You don't like them, that's enough for me to also dislike them."

That made you laugh a bit, and he also relaxed a bit, knowing that if that could make you laugh, you were already feeling a bit better.

"Even so.. I think you should know why I don't have contact with them anymore..", you quietly spoke after some time.

"Only if you want to tell me. You don't have to force yourself.", was his answer, but you insisted, finally wanting him to know, since you've already kept it to yourself for so long.

And so, you told him about all the things you went through when you were younger, still living with and depending on your parents. You told him how you were the oldest child of your parents, and for a while, everything was good. There were normal, loving and even spoiled you a bit as a child.

But when you were 6 years old, your parents decided to have a second child, and so, your sister was born when you were 7. And suddenly, it was like you didn't exist anymore.

Your parents focused all their love and attention towards your baby sister, leaving you to figure things out by yourself. They at least still provided food for you, but anything else you were left to your own devices.

By the time you were 12 years old, you were practically living by yourself, though you were still in your parents house. You were cooking your own meals, doing your own laundry, managing school stuff and all that your parents were supposed to do for you.

Your sister was only 5 years old, she was just a happy child and didn't know about the clear favouritism and neglect going on. She was just a sweet child that wanted to play with her sister. You couldn't hate her, since she didn't do anything wrong.

From time to time, you tried to get your parents attention, either with your grades or other achievements, but they always brushed you aside to focus on your sister, since they claimed she needed their attention more than you did.

It hurt, and you kept on trying and trying, until eventually, you realised that it had no sense and you just stopped. You knew that they would never love you like they did with your sister. So, as soon as you could, you started a part time job to save up some money, so you could leave when you needed to.

The older you and your sister got, the more she also became aware of the favouritism. Luckily, it didn't grow over her head, and she tried her best to get your mom and dad to focus on you, too. But they never did. Instead, your sister spent time with you, which you were really greatful for.

When the time came, you were old enough and had enough money saved, you left your home. You told no one, except for your sister. She was sad to see you leave, but she understood why you did it, and wished you the best of luck. Even to this day, you hold some sort of loose contact to her.

Your parents however? You haven't heard a word from them since you've left. You weren't even sure if they've noticed your dissapearance, if they even remembered that they had an older child. But you were glad, you didn't want anything to do with them in the first place.

While listening to your story, Wanderer felt himself get more and more angry on your behalf. How dare they treat their own child in such a way? What kind of a parent would do such a thing?

He was gritting his teeth, clenching his fists. He wanted so bad to make them pay for what they did to you. But then he focused back on you, still in his arms, sobbing as you were telling him your story. No matter how much you reassured him that you were fine, it was still affecting you.

So instead, he focused and channeled his anger into the love and worry he had for you. He tightend his hold around you, planting a soft kiss to the top of your head. "I'm sorry you had to live through something like that. But that's all in the past. You're here now, with me. You've achieved so much for yourself and by yourself, so you can be proud of you. And I'll be by your side for each and every step in the future. I won't let something like this ever happen to you again. And if you ever want me to pay your parents a little visit... let me know."

That last statement brought him a small hit to his side, but he merely laughed it off.

You'd always be his number one. Forever and always..

Xiao

Having an Adeptus as your boyfriend, the Guardian of Liyue himself at that, you tried to spend as much time with him as you possibly could. For you, that meant spending ever second of your free time in or around Wangshu Inn, sometimes even spending the night there despite having your own living place.

Xiao appreciated this gesture of yours. You knew that he liked the Inn as his place of operation, and you didn't want to force him into spending time at your place, when he would only be anxious the entire time. So it was a compromise you were willing to make.

Today was a nice summer day. You were dressed in soft clothing, allowing the occaisonal gust of wind to cool your skin down as you were standing on the top balcony of the Wangshu Inn, observing the scenery before you. Xiao was currently out somewhere, so you had decided to wait for him here.

While you were observing, leaning your body against the railing, you suddenly felt the presence of someone behind you. Before you could turn around, a pair of arms came around from behind you, encircling your body as his hands found purchase on the railing, next to yours.

You immediately recognized him, a smile spreading as you felt his body leaning against yours, his soft lips pressing against your exposed shoulder.

"You should be more careful. I wouldn't want you to lean to far over and falling to your death.", he mumbled, staying close to you, searching for the physical contact.

You loved how openly he showed his love and affection to you when it was just the two of you, no one else around to witness this soft moment of his. "I'm sure you'd catch me before anything could happen to me.", you reply, intertwining your hand with his.

"And you'd be absolutely right."

You smile but don't say anything more as you stay with him like this, enjoying the way his body feels against yours. If only this moment could last forever...

But alas, it didn't last nearly as long as you'd want it to. Soon enough, you could hear some shouting from below, coming from the reception. You heard the Boss Lady, Verr, call after someone. "Sir, please! You can't just barge up there!"

But whoever that man was, he just ignored her as both you and Xiao could hear the heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. With one last look at each other, you break apart to an appropriate distance, figuring that whoever this was was probably here to seek the help of the Adeptus.

However, as the man arrived at the top balcony, your breath got caught in your throat as you recognized the man standing in front of you.

His eyes found yours, and you saw a glimpse of something wash over his face that you couldn't quite name. Xiao also noticed this, choosing to remain silent for now, but closely watching both of you. He may not know who this man was, but it was obvious to him that you recognized him.

"Dad?", you then asked, still hoping that this was just some bad dream you'd wake up from any second now.

"(Name)! I finally found you! You weren't at home, so I've been searching everywhere for you."

The man, your father, made a step towards you, but as soon as he did, you also took a step back. The motion didn't go unnoticed by Xiao. You were clearly uncomfortable with your father being here, so he was preparing to step in the second things threatened to go out of control.

"What do you want?", you ask him, not wanting to spend any more time in this mans presence than you absolutely have to.

"What, a father can't visit his child?", he asked, letting out a chuckle, but everyone present could tell how fake it sounded.

"Just tell me what you want already."

Your father threw you a glare, but relented nonetheless. "Fine then. Your mother and I were hoping for a bit of financial aid from you. Your sister wants to study at the Academiya of Sumeru, but we lack the money to help her with that. We heard that you were doing pretty good for yourself, so, naturally, you'd help out your family a bit. Right?"

The last word sounded almost threatening, like refusing would cause you serious consequences. You knew that tone in your fathers voice all too well, having been "disciplined" by him most of your life if you ever dared refuse him.

This entire situation was almost laughable to you. You haven't had contact with either your parents or your sister in years, since you finally left their home for good. And now, after years of silence, they suddenly remember you, only to come crawling and begging for money. Which they plan to spend on your sister.

As it always was. It's always been her over you.

"..No.", you say after a few seconds of silence. Hearing your answer, your fathers forced smile drops and he stares at you, like he couldn't believe the word that just left your mouth.

"What did you say?", he asked, his voice ice cold and you flinched a bit, hiding a bit behind Xiao as you were still scared of this man, but you refused to subject yourself to him again.

"I said No. I'm not giving you any money."

Your response was hanging in the air for a bit, when suddenly, anger started to show on your fathers face and he then began lunging towards you, one arm raised as if to slap you.

"You ungrateful, little-!", he yelled and was about to take a swing at you, when suddenly, within the blink of an eye, he was laying on the floor, face pushed onto the ground, with Xiao standing over him, restraining your fathers hands.

"You will not put your hands on them. I won't allow it."

Your father was cursing and screaming, trying to escape the hold Xiao had him in. But the more he struggled, the more force Xiao put into holding him down, which only worsened the curses thrown at the both of you.

Witnessing this, the reality of what would have happened to you if Xiao wasn't there with you sank in, and you felt your knees giving out, sinking to the floor as tears subconsciously began to run down your cheeks.

Noticing this, Xiao quickly reassed the situation as he leaned down to your father. "Leave. And don't you dare ever come back. If I see or hear you bothering them ever again, I won't be so mercyful next time."

Then, he let go of your father and rushed to your side, checking in on you. Your father cursed some more as he finally got to his feet again and quickly left the scene, and hopefully, your life as well.

You on the other hand, were a mess right now. Tears running down, you were sobbing as you held onto Xiao like your life depended on him. He let it happen, soothingly running a hand along your back as he just held you, letting you cry it all out.

After you've calmed down again, he just has to talk about what just happened. "I take it this happened more than once to you?", he asked softly, referencing the moment your father tried to lay hands on you.

You couldn't say the words, so you just nodded as a response. Xiao felt anger rising in his chest, but he held it under control focusing on you, since you needed him right now.

"What else has he done to you?"

And so, with shaky breath and lots of pauses in between, you tell him about all the abuse and the clear favouritism of your sister you've been going through your entire childhood, up until the day you ran away from them for good.

Xiao was in shock that parents could do such a thing to their own child. And even if he wanted to go out and make them pay for their actions, there's nothing he could do. He was bound by a contract to protect the people of Liyue. He couldn't harm them. But he could protect you..

So, he takes you in his arms again, holding you close to him as he softly speaks into your ear. "I'm so sorry for everything that happened to you. From now on, you won't have to worry about them any longer. I'll protect you. From them and any other harm that tries to make their way to you."

And you knew that he meant every word he said. You knew that you could trust Xiao with everything, most importantly your life, and he'd guard it as his most treasured possession. With him by your side, you finally felt safe for the first time in your life...

Tighnari

Working as a Forest Ranger has always been a lifelong dream of yours. Doing so with the love of your life by your side was that dream actually coming true to you. Sometimes, you just stare at Tighnari, wondering what you did to get so lucky to have him as your partner. How you deserved him in the first place.

He always laughed a bit and softly reprimanded you, but he never did so with ill intent. When he did that, you could always see the genuine love he held for you in his eyes, clear as day.

When it came to your relationship, everything happened a bit slowly, as per Tighnari's request. Since his species only has one partner their entire life, he wants to make extra sure that this will work out.

You take your time with going on several dates, where he explains to you the basics of his kind, what to do and what not to do, with him and others of his kind. But nothing he told you ever scared you away from him. If anything, it made you fall for him even more.

Then came the day when he wanted you to meet his parents, before you were making things official with him. You were nervous to meet them, but luckily, his parents instantly took a liking to you, especially his mom. She was over the top with her sons choice in a partner and the both of them gave you two their blessings.

The day after, you finally made things official, telling everyone of your friends that you were dating, and everyone was congratulating you. Word also spread among the other Forest Rangers, and soon enough, you were also bombarded with congratulations from them, as well.

Life was going good, but there was one thing that Tighnari was still thinking about.

You've met his parents, but he's never once met yours. Matter of fact, you don't even talk about them all that much. He's asked you one or two questions about them, but he soon came to the conclusion that this wasn't a topic you were too fond to speak about.

He did ask you why that was, but when you only gave him vage answers and excuses, he dropped the topic, figuring that it wasn't too important anyways. The main issue was your relationship, not some outside opinion. He thought that you'd come around and tell him more once you felt ready to do so.

Unbeknownst to him, that day would arrive much sooner than he anticipated.

One day, as Tighnari was about to head out for one of his patrols, he noticed you standing at the entrance to Gandharva Ville that led to Sumeru City, talking to two figures he didn't recognize. He thought for a second before he decided to head over to see what was going on.

As he got closer, he began to pick up on some signs of distress coming from you, which already set him a bit off edge. Then, he picked up on the voices and realised that you were arguing with those two individuals. He didn't know what it was about, but that wasn't important.

".. you understand, (Name)? We only want the best for you, so-!"

"Excuse me. Is everything alright over here?", Tighnari interrupted the conversation, and as you turned around to him, he couldn't help but notice the relieved look on your face. He gave you a sympathetic look before turning back to the other two visitors, who looked upset at being interrupted so rudely.

"And who are you?", asked the man, while the woman nodded along with him. Before Tighnari could say anything, you were already at it.

"This is Tighnari, Leader of the Forest Rangers, and my boyfriend. Tighnari, those are my parents.", you said as you vaguely gestured with your hand between them.

Tighnari's eyes widened as he heard you introduce them. He cleared his throat before extending a hand to your parents. "It's nice to finally meet you."

However, instead of taking his hand, your father simply ignored him, while your mother looked at him for a second, before scoffing and focusing back on you. "Seriously, (Name)? You got involved with someone like him? You could do so much better for yourself.", your mother said, looking at Tighnari with disgust, specifically at his more animalistic features.

"..Excuse me?", Tighnari asked again, retracting his hand. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. When he looked back to you, he saw you gritting your teeth, yet when you spoke again, he heard the strain in your voice as you tried to remain polite with your parents.

"Like I already said, I'm happy with my life here. I'm happy with Tighnari. Nothing you do or say can change my mind about it."

"Quit being stupid already, (Name)! Now that your sister isn't taking over the family business anymore, we need you to come back and take over. We also found a suitable marriage candidate for you. If you would just-!"

"I said No!", you interrupted them again, this time however, all the politeness has left your tone.

"I know you only never bothered me about coming back till now, because you were betting on my sister to take over. You'd never force her to do the things you want her to do, but doing it to me is fine for you?

I'm done with that. I have my life here, doing what I always wanted to do, with the love of my life with me." To undermine your words, you stand next to Tighnari and take his hand in yours. The action fills him with pride, as well as the fact that you're standing up for him to your parents.

"So, you can either accept that fact, support me and still be a part of my life. Or, you can leave, and never bother any of us again."

You finish your little speech, your mother gasping at your words, but your father quickly takes her and ushers her away, leading them back to the city.

As the two walked away, you let out a deep breath, relief washing over you as they walked away. You were still holding onto Tighnari's hand when he spoke up again. "I take it that was why you didn't want me to meet them, am I right?"

"I'm so sorry about that. I know I should have told you, but I never wanted you to have to go through that. I already don't have a very good relationship with them, and I didn't want it to affect you, as well."

Hearing that, Tighnari smiled as he turned towards you to take you in his arms. "Thank you", he whispered into yours ear.

You nodded against him. You'd always stand up to your parents again, without another thought, if it meant you were doing it for him...

555 notes · View notes