#you said she was like a daughter to you... i AM your daughter

[thestuffedalligator]

When ogres travel, they do so in human shape.

They hate doing this. They think it’s beneath them. But they do it anyway.

The Vicomte Graoul de Saucisson – and this is another thing about ogres. Ogres as a species are nobility. There is no such thing as a low-born ogre. There is always room in the ogrish peerage for another vicomte, another prince, another branch to tie to the rotted tree – strode up to the chateau in human shape. The roses in the garden shivered as he passed by. The huge, high doors opened by themselves and he walked through them without a shift in his stride.

When the doors slammed shut behind him, he moved to shrug the shape off his shoulders like a coat.

Then he saw the woman.

He froze. He stared. She stared back.

He slowly pulled the shape back on. “Who are you?” he asked.

She looked mildly appalled. “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing in my home?”

“Your home? This is–” He stopped. He reconsidered. “I am the Vicomte de Saucisson,” he said. “I’m looking for the Marquis de Pamplemousse. He is a… colleague of mine.”

“Oh,” she said. She could’ve looked more abashed. “I’m sorry, monsieur, he’s never mentioned you before. You must be here to share your congratulations, of course, I can fetch him right away.”

“He’s never mentioned you either,” the vicomte did not say. “Of course,” he said. “Congratulations. What about?”

She seemed surprised. “Have you not heard? Monsieur, the curse on my husband has been lifted.”

He stared. His lips started to form the words “What curse,” and then there was a sound like a horse falling down a set of stairs and a man he had never seen before wearing the marquis’s clothes came barrelling down the hall.

“Vicomte!” said the man with the marquis’s voice. “My human friend! The curse has been lifted, and I am a human once again!”

He was slightly out of breath when he reached the woman. He clasped her arm and grinned at him with manic desperation. “This is wonderful news! You must be here to share your congratulations!”

“Lie like hell,” said the man’s eyes.

The vicomte stared. “Oh!” he said. “My – human friend! Human once again! Words fail me. After all these–” (there was the slightest hesitation) “–years?”

The woman put her head at an angle and narrowed her eyes at him.

The man walked up, still grinning like a rictus chimpanzee, and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “Yes, of course! Darling, me and the vicomte are going to have a manly one-on-one conversation while he shares his congratulations, as we human men are wont to do.” And then with a strength that could only be ogrish, the marquis pulled the vicomte by the shoulder down the hall and into a drawing room.

When the bolt of the lock clicked into place behind them, the man wearing the marquis’s clothes visibly sagged.

“What the hell,” said the vicomte.

“You should’ve sent word ahead that you'd be coming today.”

“I never do.” He gesticulated and tried to conjure a single question out of the swarm buzzing in his brain. “What the hell is going on? Who was that? Why are you pretending to be human? What curse are we talking about?”

The marquis groaned and crumpled into a chair. As he did he shifted out of human shape, clothes magically tailoring themselves to contain his ogrish form, something like a moose and an orangutan.

“I had a moment of weakness.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t a stroke?”

“I got married.”

“And that’s another thing–”

“Graoul, please.” He sighed and put his face in his talons. “Last winter a merchant broke into my home. He stole one of my roses, and in exchange I asked him to send me one of his daughters to be my bride.”

The vicomte nodded. This at least was a sacred and recognizable ogrish custom, and he did like to see the old ways in practice.

“And it was fine! It was perfectly lovely. She’s a wonderful woman, but one night I decided to put on a human shape to change things up in the bedroom, and she lost her mind! Started talking about how I was clearly an enchanted prince and that her love for me must’ve broken some curse and turned me human again! I had no idea how to tell her otherwise, and now I’ve done it for too long to back out.”

The vicomte stared. “Sorry,” he said. “You decided to turn into a human to spice things up in the bedroom, and that was the face you chose?”

The marquis growled. “If I knew I was going to be wearing it for the rest of my life I would’ve gone with something better.”

#narrativia #short story #microfiction #fairy tales #beauty and the beast #puss in boots #ogres

[awfcspencer]

Story Of Us || leah williamson x reader

prompt: A peek into one of Stella’s sleepless nights.

warnings: none!

In this universe.

“Welcome home, Stella.” Leah cooed to the newborn soothingly rocking in her arms as she walked through the front door. Stella was dressed in a onesie that had pink flamingos sprayed across the fabric, paired with a tiny matching pink cap that covered her small traces of blonde hair that you assumed would grow in to match Leah’s, her sleeping form content in the comforting arms of her mother. 

After nearly two days in the hospital once Stella made her long-awaited entrance into the world, she was finally home. There was a brief scare concerning her lungs, but luckily Stella was already forming into a little warrior as the two of you were cleared to leave the next day, Stella passing her newborn tests with flying colors.

 Since then, Stella had been practically glued to defender’s arms or her chest, the blonde feeling at peace when she could feel Stella’s tiny rhythmic breathing and heartbeat flush against her own body. 

“Welcome home, baby girl.” You softly whispered to the chubby little baby, using the backside of your pointer finger to brush her puffy cheeks gently as her tired eyes fluttered open. Your daughter was a clear copy image of Leah, her bright blue eyes and small button nose resembled the defender perfectly.

It was such an odd feeling returning home, you left with a baby in your stomach and you returned with a human, a real-life, breathing human, it was all a bit surreal.  

“Are you okay love?” She asked in a soothing, low tone, voice soft with affection peering towards you.

“Mmm, just a little sore.” You explained to her, wincing slightly at the pain that still lingered from birth a few short days ago. Luckily, you had your amazing wife by your side who catered to your and Stella’s needs attentively. Having a baby was stressful, overwhelming, and tiring daily, but Leah made the transition much easier with her supportive efforts. 

“Are you okay to show her the nursery or should we wait?” She questioned with a clear concern about your well-being first. “I just want to show her together.” She expressed shyly. 

Leah had become obsessed with nearly doing everything for Stella together, wanting both of you to experience every accolade of ‘Stella’s firsts’ as a pair, not wanting either to miss out on a single moment. First bottle, first bath, first everything was done together, it was adorable you couldn’t deny.

Leah was convinced Stella was already growing up too soon, whole-heartedly believing that Stella was nearly a day away from walking out the door at the ripe age of eighteen and never looking back. You’d had to take deep breathes with the blonde to calm her down after the single thought sent her into a frenzy just a few short hours after Stella was born. 

“I am okay, let’s show her.” You confidently admitted, placing a tender kiss to the defenders lips before making your way towards Stella’s room.

Deciding on the theme of the nursey had been easy, a minimalistic theme with neutral colors that accented the wooden furniture that two of you picked out. The room also decked out with several stars and constellation images that reminded you about the origins of Stella’s name all those months that felt like forever ago. 

What wasn’t easy was the countless hours the two of you spent trying to assemble said furniture and Leah’s persistence that a small plush gunnersaurus had to stay in the room, even though you pleaded with her that it did not match the aesthetic at all. You’d obviously given up the argument because there was simply no arguing with the true homegrown gunner and her initiative to raise a baby girl who also bled Arsenal. 

You watched as Leah give Stella a tour of the nursery room while you sat in the rocking chair near the crib, the blonde showing Stella all the tiny outfits in her closet that she’d bought for her and pointing out the small Williamson kit that she made sure Stella knew she would be wearing one day.

There was something especially heartwarming watching your wife hold and interact with your daughter, Leah looking at Stella’s small form as if she hung the stars in the sky herself, the same loving look she sent you. It was all a serene moment and with the hormones still wracked all throughout your body, you felt yourself getting emotional at the sight, and in that moment, you just knew deep down that Leah was made to be a mommy, and she was going to do such a good job with Stella. 

“Hey hey, what’s wrong?” Leah looked at you with worry in her eyes when she noticed the tears trickling from your eyelashes, making one long stride to meet you at the rocking chair. 

“Happy tears.” You explained to her with a fond look, “She’s just perfect and so are you. If there was ever anybody meant for me and Stella, it’s you.” 

Leah transferred Stella into the nook of your left arm and shuffled behind the rocking chair, placing her head in the crook of your neck so she could look down at Stella, “I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else in the world.” Your wife beamed, “Can you believe we created her? She is the second closest thing to love at first sight that I’ve ever experienced.” 

“Such the charmer you are Williamson.” You laughed at Leah’s cheesiness and wiped the few tears that had cascaded down your cheek with your free hand. Stella’s open palm searching for a finger that Leah happily slotted her pointer finger into, a common relax for babies that Leah’s heart swooned at every chance she got, loving the feeling of Stella’s petite hand wrapping around her.  

“I am serious, she’s so beautiful and perfect, just like you. I love her, and I love you.” The new angle of Leah’s body allowed her give small pecks to your neck. 

You looked down at Stella’s blue eyes staring at you and then behind you to meet the other blue eyes that had captured your heart, your mouth turning up into a soft smile and lips meeting Leah’s. 

The soft whimpers of the infant made you and Leah quickly pull apart.

 “Someone must be hungry.” You giggled, smiling down at the baby who began puckering her small rosy lips.

-----------

“Right on time, I’m coming sweetie.” You whispered to yourself as you rubbed your tired eyes and looked at the alarm clock that displayed just a few minutes after 3 A.M. The sound of Stella’s cries rang through the baby monitor that sat on your bedside table, piercing your ears. 

You’d become a light sleeper ever since Stella came home, waking up nearly every time you heard a small grunt or even a whine through the white monitor, ready to quickly make a move towards the nursey if Stella needed anything at all. 

As you stretched out your limbs, you peeked over to Leah who began to stir awake.

 “I’ll get her, you go back to sleep.” She murmured to you, giving you a soft kiss to your temple before getting herself slowly out of bed. You sent her a sleepy smile and rolled back over into your pillow, plucking the baby monitor off the table and placing it near your head to watch and listen, smiling when you hear her angelic voice on the other end of the monitor.

“What’s wrong my little baby girl?” Leah cooed to the swaddled newborn when she enters the nursey room. She carefully picks Stella up and holds her in her arms close to her chest, occasionally pressing gentle kisses to the top of her head as she rocks your daughter. 

“Oh Stella darling, I know you are tired. Shhh, your fine baby, I am right here.” 

Leah moves her to the changing pad, undoing her pink swaddle that had little farm animals sprayed across the fabric. With escaped arms, her tiny limbs stretch wide as she wiggles around relentlessly with flailing legs.

“Come on baby, let me change you and then we can both get some sleep.” She whispers to the now seemingly wide-awake baby, using her thumb to wipe the big tears that cascaded down her red, puffy cheeks, trying to calm the infant down.

Stella’s high-pitched cries were persistent, unquestionably proving her small lungs were working and well.

“Are you hungry little one? Is that what is it? Well why didn’t you just say that?” Leah told the infant, chuckling to herself slightly and tickling her tiny belly, trying to keep her energy lighthearted as usually the hardest times of having a baby was the limited sleep and exhaustion that wracked most parents and she wanted to avoid ever making Stella feel like she was a chore, even if she was just a few days old.

Leah sat on the rocking chair, letting Stella drink from a bottle of previously pumped milk that morning, humming a lullaby that she’d sing to your belly when Stella was still growing. With Stella’s weeps dwindling into small whimpers, she decided these were some of her favorite moments of being a mother so far, her ability to soothe Stella and calm her own daughter down made her feel like a true mother, like her mother instincts had come although she hadn’t carried Stella herself. 

“There you go my little angel.” She sighed in relief as Stella finished off her bottle. Leah moved to gently burp the bundle of limbs on her chest. It was an adjustment to get used to her own sleep getting interrupted nearly every hour to tend to a baby, but as she looked at her daughter, she knew she wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Unfortunately, when Leah moved Stella back into her crib, her tiny face scrunched up unhappily and the wails began again, forcing Leah to pluck the newborn back up and find her spot back on the rocking chair, Stella’s eyes now wide and awake. 

“Looks like neither of us are getting sleep.” She muttered in a tired voice but with a gentle smile, placing Stella’s back on her knees as she bounced them softly, occasionally blowing rasperries on the infant’s cheeks.

“Let me tell you a story Stella, the story of how I met your mommy.” She began, smiling so hard down at her daughter she thought her cheeks would be sore tomorrow. 

Back in your shared bedroom, you were in and out of sleep, waking up every so often and checking in to see Leah and Stella in the nursery, but once you’d heard Stella’s cries die down, you’d fallen back asleep. 

You wake up when you rolled over to cuddle further into Leah’s warm body but was instead met with her side cold and empty. You peeked down to the baby monitor and found her, listening in to what Leah was telling your daughter. 

“And then your mommy fell head over heels for your mama, both physically and emotionally. She fell straight into me at the post celebration party after we won the Euros and she couldn’t leave me alone the whole night.” You heard her explain to the newborn, chuckling to yourself because that story couldn’t be farther from the truth. 

You exit the warmth of your bed, grabbing the small monitor and shuffle down the hall towards where you wife and daughter were. 

“Are you telling lies to our newly born daughter already Leah Williamson?” You joked quietly asked as you step into the nursery room doorway, presenting Leah the monitor in your hand that showed that you had heard everything she had said. 

Leah eyes widened when she noticed your arrival, you could tell the color of her face draining out slightly even in the dimly lit nursery room. She immediately began scrambling on her words, trying to pretend she wasn’t just completely fibbing to the infant.

“Me lie? No Stella I would never do that!” She joked with sarcastic dramaticness before softly whispering close to the newborn, “Whatever your mommy says don’t believe her! We are now in this together Stella, hold a strong front.” She giggled to Stella, rubbing circles on her tiny belly.

You met her at the rocking chair, crouching down to meet Stella’s head directly, “What I think your mama meant to say was how she couldn’t leave me alone Stella.” You teased with a wink to your wife, electing to sit crisscrossed on the floor near the two people in the world who meant the absolute most to you. 

“I don’t remember the story going that way.” She teased back, the corners of her mouth curving into a smile because she does know the story went that way, but she surely wasn’t ready to admit how she had acted like a lovesick puppy when she met you to her daughter, not yet at least.

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of Lee, one day Stella will know.” You smirked, taking a subtle jab at your wife. The Euros celebration had been where you’d met the captain, you had accidentally ran straight into her looking for a friend that was quickly forgotten about after you locked eyes with the blonde, but you played it super cool, trying to conceal your excitement of the Leah Williamson in your presence by electing to play a game of cat and mouse.

A game Leah happily played alongside you, whisking you away to the dance floor nearly all night long and into the early hours of the morning. Leah tried nearly every attempt she could think of to sweep you off your feet, but still you remained headstrong, wanting the defender to truly work for it, and she did. A confession at the end of hours of dancing and an exchangement of numbers and the rest was really history, and now the two of you were married and had a daughter.

During the whisper back and forth with the blonde, Stella’s lashes fluttered slowly, her tiny fists rubbing her tired eyes and a small yawn escaping the lips of the newborn. The two of your voices lulling the infant to sleep as she still laid on Leah’s knees, you assumed she wanted to hear both of her parent’s voices before she fell back asleep.

Leah cautiously whisked Stella back into her crib, “Goodnight angel, sweet dreams.” She cooed, placing a kiss on her forehead as you did the same right after her. The blonde grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against her body as the two of you watched the infant’s chest rise and fall slowly, soft puffs of air leaving her tiny lips.

“I love you.” Your wife murmured.

“I love you too Lee, but if I don’t get some decent shuteye soon, I might lose it.” 

“Alright mama bear, back to bed we go.” She laughed, closing the nursery door quietly and leading you back to your bedroom, ushering you into the warmness and comfort of your comforter and pillows. You placed the baby monitor back onto the bedside table and seeped into the softness of the mattress.

“Goodnight baby.” She whispered into your ear, sealing it with a similar kiss to your temple that she gave to Stella, pulling you impossibly closer to her body and tangling her legs into yours.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso blurbs #woso community #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x you #leah williamson

[c-nstantine]

to be a muse

Description: Benedict meets a fascinating young woman

Word Count: 0.9K

Warnings: I think I made Benedict a bit of a himbo but that's okay. the reader is still black and even though she's charlotte's daughter, I made it so she's any skin tone which lowkey makes sense given how wild genetics work

Benedict stared at the painfully blank canvas of his family's drawing room. Hyacinth's and Gregory's laughter could be heard running about in the family's home. Kate and Anthony were doing god knows what, honestly, he felt like he was going to throw up from the love that came from the both of them.

"Brother, I fear I'm in a rut," Benedict announced while plopping himself down in between Colin and Eloise. He reached over and stole one of Eloise's bonbons.

"I beg your pardon," Colin said as he jolted awake from Benedict's sudden appearance.

"Nothing, and I mean nothing, has inspired me. Idle hands," He waved his hands in the air for extra effort.

"You are out of inspiration and you woke me up to tell me this," Colin tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes but nothing was working as Benedict yapped on and on about art.

"Yes," Benedict shrugged.

"Have you tried going to the museum? I hear there is a new exhibit. It might spark something for you," Eloise just wanted to eat her bonbons in peace.

"That's why you are my favorite, " He ruffled her hair before dashing off to find his coat before heading to the museum.

-

He stood in front of a painting for what felt like hours. It seemed like he was waiting for something to come to him, his inspiration. Footsteps shuffled around him, yet, Benedict remained unmoved.

"I find his work to capture the inquisitive nature of who he paints," A melodic voice came from behind him. He turned a saw a woman around his age with the most beautiful features. Delectable lips, and round cheeks, and her skin looked like it was kissed by the gods themselves. The gorgeous shade of brown, he had ever seen.

"You do? That is a refreshing perspective. My family thinks them all to be faces on a canvas," He probably should have addressed her more formally but for now he was happy to have someone share interests with him.

"They are but they are also so much more. Each brush stroke is an attempt to capture a moment. No matter how imperfect it may be," She looked at him with a small smile playing on her lips. His eyes lingered there a little long before dragging down the rest of her body. She did not have the clothing of a commoner. She must be a lady, he thought to himself.

"Are you a painter?" He asked.

"I am talentless in art, I'm afraid but that doesn't stop me from enjoying it. And what about you?" She shook her head and he noticed the bouncy curls that fell from her scalp. He was becoming more and more entranced by the moment.

"I dabble. I am not great enough for a museum. My siblings believe it to be my hobby," He admitted rather shyly.

"Yet. You are not great enough for a museum, yet. Mister?" She asked for his name.

"Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton," Benedict gave her a small smile as he introduced himself. She chuckled slightly.

"It has been wonderful chatting with you, Mr. Bridgerton, but I fear I may have to leave." She looked disappointed that their conversation had come to an end. Benedict looked up at the painting and began to speak.

"What is your name so I may fin-" He looked down and she was gone. She had disappeared into the crowd before he could finish his statement. He pushed to the entrance of the museum but there was nothing.

-

"All of this happened and you did not catch the lady's name?" Colin asked as he and Benedict made their way away from the mothers who all wanted their daughters paired with a Bridgerton.

"She was perfect. I only entertained Mother's idea of me coming to the ball tonight in hopes of seeing her," Benedict said while adjusting his waistcoat and smiling at some of the season's eligible debutantes but none of them were her.

"And if she's not here?" Colin asked, his eyebrows squinted and a bit concerned by the potential answer.

"I will simply cease," He deadpanned.

"Cease what?"

"To exist," Benedict said and watched as more and more people arrived at the ball. Even the Queen was in attendance, but someone far more interesting trailed behind her. 

"Stop hitting me. Mother, he's hitting me," Colin said as Benedict repeatedly tapped his brother's shoulder. Benedict's eyes were wide as they trailed the woman he met in the museum. 

"That's her. That's the woman," Benedict said watching her gracefully walk across the room. She was dressed in the finest silks and her curls that were wild and free earlier were pinned back.

"Well, that cannot be," His mother started. Her son could not have been talking about her. That would have been impossible. 

"What are you talking about? She is right there. Even more beautiful than when I saw her last," He noted her appearance before quickly bowing in the presence of Queen Charlotte. Sure, the family had her favor, but even they knew their place.

"Bridgertons, I do not think I have introduced my daughter. Princess Y/N, she takes after me in beauty of course," The Bridgertons turned and then bowed in front of the Princess who looked mortified.

"It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintances," She spoke softly as her gaze held Benedict's. He understood why she dashed away. The scandal of an unmarried princess wandering the museum alone. Especially, considering how long the two of them spoke together.

"A pleasure indeed," He would see her again. He had to find his muse.

Taglist: @flyestvenustrap@megamindsecretlair@blxckdesire @prettyvintageafternoon@lilbanas@certifiedloverwoman@melissa-ashe @hoyoooo @blckbarbiedoll idk if you guys wanna be here for this because it's a bit diff from my usual content but just let me know!!

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #benedict x black!reader #benedict bridgerton x black reader #benedict bridgerton x black!reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x princess!reader #benedict x reader #bridgerton x reader

[siscon-stsg]

could you write a scenario about gojo fucking his sweet little virgin and innocent sister. When he looked so long her cunt, she blushed and said;

Nii-chan, p-please don't look at it

I love your writings <3

(CW: incest, innocent and virgin reader, my bad writing and not beta'd, satoruniichan being manipulative cuz yeah that's him. name-calling. oral (f receiving). corruption. degradation if you squint i guess? finger-sucking. cliff hanger cuz i'm evil)

THANK YOU PRETTY BABY YOU'RE THE BESTTT!!! i'm kissing you on the mouth mmmmmmwah c'mere. i suck at writing full pieces, haven't done it in literal AGES, but i did my best for you!! so sorry if it sucks!! my brain hurts i am not used to thinking for long periods of time. /j

satoru's eyes were impossible to escape from. he'd always make you feel naked under his gaze, like two stars sucking the light out of the night sky.

but now they gazed down at you with such hunger it was almost threatening.

“hmmm,” he hummed with a grin, long fingers tracing aimless patterns all over your wet cunny; “don' close y'r legs, pretty. don' ya wanna make your big bro happy?”

and that only made you whimper more. what was so entertaining about this? you struggled not to close your thighs around his pretty head of white hair. “niichan! don't look!”

your parents could be home any minute! what would they say if they saw you like that? knees to your chest on the living room couch, satoru inspecting you down there like he was eyeing a ring at a jewelry store!

he played with your puffy lips, rubbing them up an down. he pulled down the hood around your clit, he stretched your entrance to the sides with both thumbs; only to laugh at the sticky trails of pussy juice drooling down from it.

“why not?” satoru had to laugh at you. some nerve you had to complain, really, when your little pussy was drenched and pulsing, so far untouched. he spat on you, spreading it around your pink flesh with a thumb, and smirked when it got you all squirmy.

“c'mon, be good 'n stay still”. a firm, steadying hand pressed down on your tummy. “y're more than old 'nough to still be a virgin, y'know? i'd be embarrassed if i were you”.

was that true? was not having sex at your age that bad?

satoruniichan always had so many friends, did so much better in school than you, was always dating one girl or another... he'd know about that sort of thing, right?

after all, you were always picked on for being the prune little sister. your parents never approved of any boy you had a crush on, and being a good daughter you never went against their wishes.

satoru caught on your dilemma quick. he leaned in close, blowing his hot, tickly breath teasingly over your clit. “wan' big bro to change that?”

“change w-what? hm!” you moaned. this time you couldn't stop your thighs from closing when satoru's lips sucked on your clitty, slurping loudly until you cried out.

“pop y'r cherry, dummy,” your big bro chuckled. “that way, y' won' be so pathetic anymore”.

the name stung, “pathetic”. tho you could barely think about that with satoru loudly licking, slurping, kissing, burying his face into your pussy. nose into your clit, and purring. arms hugging your hips so you can't escape his hungry stimulation.

you couldn't even think, only moan and shiver. were big brothers even supposed to do this sort of thing to their little sisters? but then again, it felt so good!

satoru pulled back with your clitty slurped between your lips, giddy for the cute cries you let out. “'nd?” he said, voice much deeper and husky than before.

“c'monnn, say yes!” his cheeks puffed up and satoru pouted, like a spoiled child begging for candy. only that this “child” was rubbing your clit in tight frenzied circles with his thumb, not slowing down even as you trashed and squirmed and whimpered. satoru dove tongue first into your soppy hole, muffling his words in your sloshy muscles: “d'y' wanth t' be p'thethic 'll y'r lwife 'r noth?”

“n-niichan!” is all you could say, or cry. your muscles were stiffing up, specially down your belly. satoru seemed impatient, because his tongue swiftly exchanged placed with two long, too long fingers that crooked inside your virgin pussy. he felt around, until finding your gummy, sensitive little walls.

he thrusted and thrusted from his wrist at a sadistic pace, laughing at you and at your slutty teary face. you were going to be such a whore, he just knew. “wanna cum, huh? my pretty sluts wan's to cum?”

“y-yeees!”

your clit felt on fire under his slimy tongue. your walls were spasming, pussy crying as much as your eyes and it was like your body was made of jelly. you shivered and cried, and when your back arched, hips bucking against his hand, your eyes saw heaven and stars twinkled behind your eyelids and

satoru stopped.

“noooo! no! why'd you sto- mmph!” his slick fingers stopped your whining by thrusting down your throat. you almost gagged, throat and pussy convulsing in synch.

the albino sat back on his heels without pulling back from your mouth; one hand fumbling with his sweatpants until it came out springing. angry red, leaky, pulsing, and he rubbed the tip of his dick a couple times against your slit with a deep grunt.

“didn't give ya permission t' cum, did i? now open up f'my cock, slut”

#tw.incest #tw incest #dd:dne #big bro/little sis #big bro gojo #tw.dark content #dead dove do not eat #satoru gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru smut #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #tw dark content #this was one of those stories that literally wrote itself #i just put my pussy on the keyboard and this came out sorry

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile VII

<- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Pairing: Alastor x Female! Reader

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: 4913 words... I don't know what happened. I'm so tired, it's 1 am but who cares, I needed to drop the new chapters. I really hope you'll enjoy it dears ! Tell me what you think of it! Because I'm dead tired there might have more mistake than usual, I'll check it out tomorrow.

“ And then I kind of kissed him through the blanket.”

You stared as Alice squealed with delight, bouncing on her seat in front of you. You were in your living room,sitting on your sofa, your Mother was out which made you alone with your friend. You just finished telling her what happened two days ago and she seemed delighted while you were… confused. At that moment you didn’t even think, you just… went for the kiss. It wasn’t even a kiss, your lips didn’t touch! You just felt the blanket!

“ And then ? And then ? Don’t leave me hanging, tell me what happened next!” begged Alice while she was squeezing a cushion against her chest. You turned your head toward the chimney’s fire. You were the 20th of December. Christmas was around the corner and then Alastor’s birthday…And you still didn’t have any ideas for a present ! You sighed, you were losing against the clock… “ Hey, are you doing alright ?”

“ Oh, sorry Alice, nothing happened after. He… reassured me and then he went home. But the problem right now is that I don’t have his Chrismas’s present… I don’t even have his birthday’s present!”

“ He was born on the first of January, right ?” You nodded and she tilted her head backward, thinking about a present for your friend. You almost scoffed, you trusted her but if YOU couldn’t find a present for Alastor, how could she do it? “ Hey, before I forget, I asked my parents if I could celebrate Chrismas’s Eve with friends and they said yes!” she clapped her hands together. “ You should come, and bring Alastor with you !”

Going to a soirée with Alastor..? You looked at Alice. She was indeed the daughter of a rich family but she wasn’t like those pompous people who thought they were better than anyone. She was open minded. She made friends with everyone, white people, coloured people, everyone.. And you were surprised her parents were okay with it. Maybe they weren’t closed minded people?

You kind of wanted to see Alastor in this kind of environment, you have never seen him all dressed up since you were kids. It could be fun ! But would he agree ? You could almost hear his voice saying he didn’t want to leave his Mother alone for Chrismas’s Eve.. You didn’t want to leave your mother alone either– Wait, that was it! You would invite Marie to pass Chrismas’s Eve with your Mother and you and Alastor would go to Alice’s soirée and then celebrated Christmas in your own house with Alastor and her mother!  

“ From your smile, I guess it is a yes?” asked Alice with a grin. You winked at her before standing up.

“ It’s a maybe… I don’t know if Alastor would want to come.”

“Mhn.. If he doesn’t want to come, tell him that John will be there.” she said with a teasing expression, like she knew something you didn’t. You raised an eyebrow at her, suspicious.

“ Alice… Did you talk with Alastor when he walked you home?”

“ Oh! Actually yes, he is the one who began to talk. He asked about our relationship, he seemed very protective of you, it was cute!” she beamed as she giggled. You blushed, looking away. “ But you think he would not like a party?  He seemed like he would be the star of the soirée!”

You did know that. Alastor has something that made people want to approach him. He was almost seventeen but he already had so much charisma, he was a proper gentleman. You weren’t blind, you could see more and more young ladies turn their eyes on him when you were walking outside. You wondered if he was aware of it? If he was, he never made a deal of it, he would just smile back at them if they happened to catch his eyes. 

You wondered how ladies would try to approach Alastor. You’ve known him for eight years, so you weren’t impressed by him anymore, if you wanted you would just jump on his back because you were tired and he would carry you home just like. No questions asked. You smiled without noticing, people might have found Alastor difficult to approached but for you, it was as easy as breathing.

You kind of wanted to see people trying to approach Alastor now…

“ Well, I just have to convince Alastor.”

~~

“ I’ll be delighted!”

You blinked, turning your head toward him. He was laying on the tree’s foot, seeming to be reading a book as you were sitting on the swing. It was snowing today, but you both decided to stay outside for a change. The forest was pretty hidden under a white blanket.

You went to Alastor’s house after parting ways with Alice. You did pay attention to the people around, but you didn’t see any man that would be stalking you. You were sure, if there was a stalker, that he would stalk Alice, not you. But Alastor has made you promise that you would pay attention so…

“ Really? You would like to come?” you smiled as you let the swing go, walking toward him. He put his book down and looked up at you with his usual grin, he really seemed excited about it! 

“ Of course dear, going to a soirée with you holding on to my arm? How could I refuse? And I’m sure my Mother would be delighted to celebrate Christmas’s Eve with your mother, as long as we celebrate Christmas with them.” he sketched before sitting up. He tilted his head and you couldn’t help but laugh as you saw a few leaves and snow on his hair. You sat next to him and began to take the leaves out of his hair. In two seconds, Alastor was laying back down on the grass but this time his head was on your thighs. He took his book back and continued his reading as you stroked his hair, looking at the sky.

What kind of dress would you wear? You never went to a soirée before, you needed to look your best, you wanted to impress Alastor. You’ve never really put too much thought into what you wore, you’ll have to ask Alice for advice… You wondered how Alastor was going to show up..

“ Alastor, what are you going to wear?” you looked at him, still playing with his hair, how could his hair be so soft to the touch? He didn’t move his gaze from the book, answering you with a teasing smile.

“ Why? ”

“ Come on, I was just wondering… I don’t know what kind of dress would suit me, I have never been to a fancy soirée. I’m scared of being… underdressed. “ and you didn’t want Alastor to be ashamed of you because of your poor choice of outfit. He stayed silent for a minute and then tilted his head backward on your laps so he could stare into your gaze.

“ Red suits you.” 

You stared in his eyes, the sun made them look almost caramel like. He was so lucky to be this handsome, really ,and he wasn’t even a full grown man yet. You pouted, looking away. How unfair.

“ Well, thank you, does that mean that the only color that suits me is red and I look awful with any other color?” 

“ Oh I didn’t say that. I just want to see you in red.”

You looked at him and couldn’t help the smile sketching your lips. Well, if that’s what he wanted. You took his book off his hands, which he let you do, still looking at you. You put the book next to you, on the grass. 

“ Do you think you'll be able to keep up with me if we have to dance ?” you teased him, raising an eyebrow. His eyes widened before he roared with laughter, holding his belly. You chuckled at his reaction, you knew that Alastor was an amazing dancer, you just wanted to hear him laugh… 

“ Oh my dearest friend, if we happen to dance, trust me, I’ll make it so you wouldn’t be able to walk for some days.” he winked at you with a confident smile. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back.

“ And I’ll make it so you wouldn’t ever consider another partner!” he took your hand in his with a soft smile, caressing your skin. You looked up as you heard someone coming and your eyes met Marie’s. She smiled softly at you, saying it was time for you to go home, she didn’t like you going home at night and didn't want you to catch a cold.

Alastor stood up, before taking his book. You stood up with his help, said goodbye to Marie’s and went back home with Alastor. Since the “stalker” evenement, he didn’t want you to walk home alone. You rolled your eyes at him but at least you could stay with Alastor a little while longer, so it was worth it. You walked together on the road of New Orleans, watching at the shop vitrines if it could give you some ideas for Alastor’s gift.

“ Hey, Alasto-”

You screamed as your foot slid on ice. You felt yourself falling before Alastor wrapped his arms around you and tugged your body against him before gracefully dancing around the freezed road. You stared at him, your eyes wide opened as he made you spin on the freezing floor, but you never fell, he was moving your body, like it was another part of him. You began to laugh happily. You let him take control of your body, letting him make you dance as he wished. Not too long after he made you drop, your head almost touching the ground. You stared at him as he held you firmly, your breath coming in short puff. He was staring intensely at you with a satisfied smile.

“ No matter what, I’ll always catch you if you fall.”

You smiled at him as he straightened you before offering his arm to you. You took it, as you kept walking toward your home and of course, as always, he leaned in to give you a kiss on your forehead before leaving. You stared at him until you couldn’t see him anymore and then you decided to enter your home.

“ Mom~ What would you think about celebrating Christmas’ Eve with Marie~?”

~~~

“ This is a disaster Alice !” 

You fell on your bed,head in your pillow ready to scream bloody murder. You haven’t found a single red dress that suited you. You hated every single dress you had tried ! And Alice’s soirée was tomorrow night ! You didn’t know what to do with your hair, with your makeup and you still didn’t have anything to wear ! 

“ I see… Well, it seems like it’s my time to shine ! Look what I’ve got you !” She took a bag from behind her and put it in front of your bed. You lifted your head from your pillow and opened the bag. Your eyes opened as you saw a beautiful black and red flapper dress. Your eyes were wide open, you’ve only seen this kind of dress with the riches folks. You stared at Alice, your mouth wide open without being able to put words together. “ I know you will look delicious like this, come on, try it on so we can find makeup and hairstyle to go with it!”

“ We can see my legs !”

“ We’ll wear stockings, don’t worry ! It’s almost 1920’s, come on!”

“ We’ll be in 1917 next month!”

“ That’s what I said, come on now!”

You undressed yourself before looking at the dress. It was very pretty and it was shining with so many sparkles… You dressed up and put on some heels and then you looked at yourself in the mirror. You looked… like a woman. You really liked the dress… you moved around a bit, it was comfortable, you feel like you could dance with it! You could feel the flapper moving against your thighs with each movement. You blushed a little and looked at Alice who was staring at you with stars in her eyes.

“ Ooh, yes! You’ll look perfect ! Don’t worry, I’ll have some similar dress, you’ll not feel left out! Now, the makeup and the hairstyle my friend~.”

Oh dear.

~~~

It was the day. You were in front of your mirror. You were wearing your dress, your black heels, you had put a red lipstick on your lips and a bit of mascara. You were so nervous. What if Alastor found you absolutely ridiculous ? Oh you couldn’t live with the humiliation. You heard your door open and turned around to see your mother, staring at you with teary eyes.

“ Oh sweetheart, you look… Breathtaking, your father would be crying…” She went into your bedroom and hugged you which you immediately reciprocated. 

“ I don’t look stupid ?”

“ Baby, no. You look like a grown woman! Oh, how time flies…you're already sixteen...” she smiled before you heard someone ringing at your door making you tense. It was Alastor, you were sure of it. Your Mother smiled at you before winking and then she left you bedroom, going downstairs so she could open the door. You tried to hear what they were saying but you couldn’t hear anything…

You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror.

“ Come on girl. You’re going to an amazing soirée and you’ll enjoy every single second of it, okay?” you nodded at your reflection. Great.

You sighed and then left your bedroom. You took a deep breath and then began to walk down the stairs, your heels making noises against the wooden stairs. You heard Alastor and Marie’s voice getting closer. You saw your mother at the bottom of the stairs with an encouraging smile. 

“ Alastor, come closer, there she is !”

You heard his shoes before finally seeing him.

Oh.

He was beautiful.

His dark hair was slicked back, he didn’t have his glasses on, he was wearing a dark redded suit and he was holding a bouquet of flowers in his right hand. He was staring at you, his eyes wide open. You both stood there, without talking or doing anything else. You took a shaky breath before walking down the stairs until you were in front of him, thanks to your heels you were face to face with him. He was still staring at you with a straining smile. Did he find you ridiculous, did you try too hard? You kissed him softly on both cheeks and you heard him gulp. What was happening to him?

“ Alastor, please say something…” you begged, looking down.

You felt his hand on your face, raising your chin up so he could meet your gaze. His smile was softer and his eyes still had this intense glint that made you relax.

“ I told you, red is our color.” he smirked before giving you the bouquet. You grinned as you stared at the beautiful flowers in front of you and then you looked at Alastor’s eyes. He didn’t even once let his gaze move away from you, it made you feel warm. You smiled brightly as your mother took the flowers from you, putting it in a vase. 

“ You both are so beautiful, but leaving before being late !” Marie said just after taking a picture of you. You took a long coat that hid your figure before leaving with your arm around Alastor’s one. 

“ I can’t wait to be there ! “ you said excitedly. You were still feeling nervous but Alastor by your side, it was getting easier to just be excited about this party. You felt Alastor grip your arm tighter as you walked into a busy road. You tried not to bump into people, and after a thirty minute walk, you find yourself in front of a huge house. Was it a mansion?

You knocked on the huge door and a butler opened the door, eyeing suspiciously but before you could even your mouth you saw Alice running toward you. She was wearing an outfit similar to yours, as promised, but hers was white and blue. She looked almost angelic.

“ You made it ! Come, come, come inside!” 

You walked into a huge reception room and there were already so many people inside. The butler took off your coat making you feel a little cold, so you just stayed against Alastor who put his arms around your shoulder. Alice introduced some of her friends, you could not remember every name, there were too many. Did Alice really know all of them? Some of them looked like real adults, and was that a band that was getting ready? You went with Alastor toward the buffet.

“ Well, what do you think of it so far?” you asked him with a tired smile. He took a drink and sniffed it before putting it back. “ What?”

“ Be careful, some of the brevage have alcohol,” he said before leaning against the wall.” but I’m not surprised. Your friend seems to be the type to always go big.  Being able to pull off this kind of soirée with a war going on? I’m almost impressed.” he said before straightening his tie. 

“ Alastor, is it you?”

You turned to the voice and saw a beautiful lady. She smiled sweetly at Alastor who gave her his usual smile. Who was she? She began to talk with Alastor, ignoring your presence. You tilted your head, it was the first time someone came straight at Alastor with you next to him. She seemed so confident, you almost envied her. Almost. You were a polite girl, you wouldn’t interrupt them but you didn’t want to stand next to them too long, it would get boring quickly. You took a drink from the buffet and sipped it. It was sweet, you wondered what it was. You smirked, you could already imagine Alastor’s face at the disgustingly sweet brevage you just had.

You should prank him. You took another cup and turned toward Alastor before being startled by the band who began to play music. You almost dropped the cup, that was a close call.. You looked at Alastor who was being dragged by the lady toward the dancefloor. 

Wait what? 

You stared at the scene in front of you, as Alastor began to dance with her.

What?

“ Oh, who do we kill before Christmas?” You turned your head toward Alice who was trying to see what you were watching. “ Oh… Oh, yes. Jealous?”

“ No! I’m just .. surprised. I didn’t know Alastor had other female friends.. Come on, let’s dance.” you finished your drink and dragged Alice who eagerly nodded. 

You both danced with each other, smiling. It was fun! The band was playing some good tunes! She gave you a spin who landed you into someone's arms. You looked up and saw John, your school’s mate.

“ You look beautiful like this…” he said as he admired you. You nodded with a confident smile. You didn’t know why but you felt like the most powerful woman right now! He smiled at you, before looking away shyly. “ Care to bless me with a dance?” You laughed, so formal. You took his hand and danced with him, keeping your eyes open to match his steps. You did stop him from lifting you in the air though, you didn’t trust him to keep you up in the air but thankfully he didn’t take it badly.

You took a look at Alastor and couldn’t help but frown. He was dancing amazingly, as always, spinning the woman before tugging her against him. You pouted, you thought he only did that with you.

As the party kept going you were getting more and more agitated. Why was Alastor still not dancing with you? You didn’t know why, but most of the time you were a good girl but when Alastor was included, you could become the worst brat ever. You walked toward the buffet, took another drink and went toward the band, you needed to look confident. You spoke to the singer and he smiled before making some place for you. He placed the microphone in front of you and asked you what song you wanted to sing.

You smirked and asked for a song you and Alastor’s used to dance on when you were younger. You were watching the crowd, took a deep breath and began to sing. You stared at Alastor who was dancing with another girl but once he heard your voice he turned his head toward the scene , where you were standing. You couldn’t feel but something in your belly, just like that his attention was back on you. You saw the girl trying to keep his gaze on her and you smirked. Not today.

Today you were selfish.

You sang like there was no tomorrow, the crowd clapping their hands with the rhythm of the song, you didn’t think you ever sang this good. You had perfect control on your voice, you were even dancing on the stage as the band were giving their all with you. You looked at Alastor who was still dancing with the lady, even if you could see he was getting bored. Well, you could help. You began to sing with more energy, the band making the rhythm faster as well. You could feel your lips sketched into a mocking smile as you saw the girl not being able to keep up with Alastor. Perfect.

You went down the stage , still singing. The crowd parted for you and you couldn’t help but feel excited. You walked toward Alastor, he had his back on you. You slided your hand on his back making him flinch. He turned his head toward you with a surprised expression. You grinned at him, singing before smoothly taking Alastor away from the girl. You both were encircled by the crowd but you didn’t care. Alastor and you danced, never breaking eye contact. You kept the rhythm as fast as you could, every step was nailed, every spin. You would have your back against his chest and then he would spin you so your face was inches away from each other. And then Alastor lifted you in his arms before throwing you in the air. You closed your eyes, feeling perfectly safe. He promised he would always catch you if you were to fall.

You fell down in his arms, your head near the floor but never touching it. You felt his breath on your lips and you opened your eyes, staring right back into his gaze. He was sweating and so were you. You were holding his shoulder, breathing hard. You were both alone in your own world. 

And just like that, the spell broke as the crowd cheered for you. You blinked and Alastor straightened you up with a genuine smile. You grinned at him before you both bowed to the crowd. You went back to the stage, giving back the microphone before going to the buffet, you needed some fresh water.

“ Oh my Lord, you both were.. I don’t even have the words!” squealed Alice as she shook you by the shoulders. You laughed at her reaction , it was just you being petty because Alastor wasn’t paying attention to you.

“It really was amazing.” John said as he clapped while you were drinking a glass of water.

“ That’s what happens when you let us do our things together, let that be a lesson folks.”  Alastor said as he put his arms around your shoulders.  You nudged him but couldn’t contain your laughter. You were having a great time.

You had other dances with Alastor, before people were making little group. You were sitting on a table with Alice,John,Alastor and other people you dind’t know. You didn’t know why, maybe they drank some alcohol but the conversation which was proper began to turn toward something more… spicy?

“ You’ve never kissed before? Hoho, you don’t know what you are missing.” said a lady to John who just blushed. The lady stared languidly at Alastor. “ And you, pretty boy? Have you ever kissed someone ?”  You were ready to tell the lady to back off, you didn’t want her to embarrass Alastor because he didn’t have his first kiss.

“ Yes, I have.”

Huh?

“ Oh, I’m not surprised. And you sweetie?” you felt everyone's eyes on you and you blushed. Even Alice had already kissed someone !

“ N-no, I have never.”

“ Well, why not remedy it tonight, just before Christmas ! John, was it, why don’t you kiss our adorable singer right here?” you flushed even more as John was looking at you, seeming hesitant. 

“ As if my dearest friend’s first kiss would be with such a boring fella, no offense my friend.” said Alastor sarcastly.  You frowned, why would he care! He already had his first kiss and he didn’t even tell you. You stood up.

“ I need some air, I’ll be back.”

You took a sip of your glass with the sweet juice and went out, in the garden. You heels hit the paving stone as you try not to burst out of… of what? sadness? angryness? You sighed as you stared at the stars in the sky, you felt the snow falling on your naked arms. You could even see the air you were breathing.

“ You are going to catch a cold.”

You turned your head toward Alastor as he took off his blazer, ready to hand it to you. You shook your head.

“ No, I needed… I need the cold air.”

“ Why did you lie ?”

“ Pardon?” you turned your body toward him as he took a step toward you.

“ About your first kiss.”

“ I didn’t lie, I’ve never kissed anyone. And unlike you, if I did, I would have told you but Mister Alastor doesn’t care to share such a secret with me, am I right?” you crossed your arms over your chest. He smiled at you mockingly. You felt anger sweltering inside you.

“ Don’t you dare look at me like that, Alastor.”

“ You’ve always been endearingly stupid. My first kiss was with you, in your room, remember ?” he tilted his head as he took another step toward you.

You felt your body relaxed. You couldn’t be angry with him. He didn’t know. He wasn’t reading the same book as you. You have been so embarrassed when he had catched you reading a love story but at least you knew what a first kiss was! 

“ Alastor, a kiss isn’t… A first kiss is something you must share with a special someone. Your lips need to touch the other one.” you blushed as you looked away. “ I think.. Th-The lips need to move against each other an-and..”

You took a step back but his hand found the back of your waist as he softly tugged you against him. You knew he was trying to find your eyes but you were so embarrassed by what you just told him.

“ So, a first kiss must be with a special someone, right?” he waited for you to nod before raising your chin with his finger. “ Then, can I give you my real first kiss?” You stared at him with your eyes wide open, your cheeks flushed red.

“ What..”

“ You are my most special person since childhood… For me, it’s only natural for you to have my first kiss.” he smiled at you, his eyes shining with that oh so familiar glint you were used to seeing each time he was looking at you. “ You don’t have to if you don’t want of course, but–”

“ I want to. You.. You are also my .. most special person…” he nodded with a soft genuine smile that made you feel warm inside. You closed your eyes as you waited for him to kiss you.

“ Nu-uh, keep your eyes on me.” you opened your eyes, blushing furiously.

“ You are supposed to close your eyes when you are kissing someone !”

“ I don’t really care, this is our first kiss, we’ll do it how we want.” he smirked as he approached his face toward you. Your eyes were looking at his lips then his eyes, you couldn't focus on something, you were stressed, you were nervous, you were excited. Your eyes were half closed when you felt his warm lips against your cold one. You looked at his eyes, his gaze piercing your gaze with an intensity too much to bear, you closed your eyes.

It wasn’t like in the book but you didn’t know why, you didn’t care. 

You kept your eyes closed as Alastor stepped back slightly , you could still feel his breath against your mouth. You opened your eyes and gave him a shy smile as he whispered.

“ So dear, have you ever kissed someone ?” you nodded. “ With whom?”

“ Alastor.”

“ How was it?”

“ Perfect.” you smiled at him as he grinned at you before covering your shoulder with his blaze. 

“ Come on now, the soirée needs its stars !”

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[desi2go]

Importance

pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader

warnings: angst, fluff

summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...

author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!

Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.

Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.

Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.

Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.

Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.

Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.

You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.

The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.

You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.

But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.

As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.

Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.

Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.

The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.

Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.

He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.

He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.

The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.

Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.

When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.

When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.

You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.

Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.

You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.

On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.

Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.

More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.

He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.

Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.

You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.

You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.

It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.

You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.

He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.

"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.

"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.

"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.

"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.

"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"

"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."

"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"

"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.

"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.

"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.

"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.

These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.

"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.

"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.

"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."

You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.

Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.

It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.

You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.

After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.

Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.

He just followed you, deep in thoughts.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.

"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."

"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.

His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.

"I love you Chan" you whispered.

"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"

#stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan imagines #stray kids #stray kids angst

[f0point5]

Jealous Emilia after they get together plss I am beggingggg cook this for us plssssss 🙏🙏🙏

Not me rewriting this no less than four times and still hating it 😂 but it’s not going to get any better haha. This was hard to write because I actually don’t see Emilia as the jealous type. I kind of drew off a lot of her known insecurities and alluded to her kind of struggling with the “wag” role a bit so it’s not just her reacting poorly to Max being fawned over by a girl because I don’t think that would be true to her character. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

✨Set in Jeddah 2024✨

And I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

If there’s one thing to be said for the Jeddah paddock, it’s pretty at sunset. You watch people moving through the paddock bathed in golden light. The ground looks like the yellow brick road. Even though it’s getting cooler now as it gets closer to qualifying, you still choose to sit inside Red Bull hospitality. You’re also sitting inside because Max said he wanted to hang out before quail. Even though he’s spent the last forty-five minutes talking to one of the hospitality guests.

Amy, something or other. She races GT cars in some series you’ve never heard of. You’re not sure what connections got her the invite to the garage but Max had been herded away by one of the media reps to take pictures with her so she must be someone’s daughter. They seem to have hit it off, you note. He’s in full maxplaining mode, bending down to the line of his own hand as he illustrates what looks like an apex. Amy isn’t even watching his hands, she’s watching Max. Hazel eyes just sparkling as she memorises every inch of him. Yeah, you know that look well enough.

And it’s not that you mind. He likes to talk racing, he likes racers. It’s not like you know what it feels like to driver a car at top speed, and more importantly you don’t want to know. The hot laps with Max were more than enough. You can’t be everything to him and you don’t need to be. You tell yourself you don’t want to be. It’s good he has other people to talk to, because it’s not like you can ever really understand his competitive streak. The man who knows nothing except how to win will not always be able to relate to the girl who has always been too afraid to lose.

No, it’s not bothering you that Max is talking to her. It’s bothering you that she has the most obvious crush on him since…no, actually, this is the most obvious crush ever. She’s played with her hair so many times you just know karma is going to make her bald someday. You hope you’re there somehow.

“Hey,”

You jump at the sound of Checo’s voice. He sits down at the end of the table, brandishing Kitkat, which he slides over to you.

“Max has made a new friend,” he says, nodding in Max’s direction.

You tear open the wrapper with far too much aggression. “So I see,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant.

“She races, right?”

You nod, biting into the chocolate. “GT, apparently,”

“Lots in common,” Checo says with a wiggle of his eyebrows. “You have to watch your back,”

You know he’s joking. You know that in no universe are you in competition with her. And yet, his words sink under your skin under your blood is curdling at the sight of Max laughing at something Amy says.

“I don’t have to watch anything,” you say with shrug, turning towards Checo. “If she can take him she can have him.” You push your hair over one shoulder and run your tongue over your teeth.

“Whoa,” Checo chuckles, throwing his hands up like he’s being faced with a hungry lion. You suppose since he has a wife, he knows the look well enough. “I was joking.” When you don’t react, he shakes his head. “It’s Max,”

You know what he means. It’s Max, not Chuck Leclerc. It’s Max, not Danny Ric. It’s Max, not Checo. But it’s Max. You don’t have to worry he’s going to lose his mind over the actresses or supermodels, but he sure seems to be respectfully admiring his female alter ego.

It’s like he can sense you thinking about him, it’s uncanny, really. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him walking towards your table with Amy in tow.

Fake smile, it’s fine, she’s just a fan.

Max introduces you, and you smile and shake her hand and ask her if she having a nice day, because you’re Max’s girlfriend, so you owe it to him to be polite. She has no such obligation, although you might be imagining her flinch when Max says the word girlfriend.

“I think it’s the best day of my life,” she says in answer to your question. The telltale flicker of her eyes in Max’s direction as they sit down almost making you roll yours.

Max doesn’t notice, he’s more interested in taking your Kitkat out of your hand and taking a bite. He bites it so that all four sticks have the end missing and you wear you’ve never been so disgusted by this man. For a second, you think Amy can have him.

“Amy races GT cars, like the ones we tested in Portugal,” he says to you now, his hand disappearing under the table to rest on your thigh and trace circles with his thumb like it’s a habit. “We are just talking about setting up a test for her with Verstappen com,”

Oh, great. So not only is she utterly bewitched by the ocean eyes, you’re making her dreams come true. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Ah,” is all you say, sharing a look with a smirking Checo.

“That would really be such a dream come true,” Amy says, and you almost laugh. “I’m a big fan of yours, I think it’s so cool that you’re involved with things outside formula one. You should come to a race sometime. I owe you paddock passes,”

You met him three hours ago, and he isn’t even the one who invited you. Do you owe him a blowjob as well, Amy?

“Yeah. Our schedule is a bit hectic but yeah, it would be good to fit that in soon,” Max says, turning to you. “Right?”

What am I? The secretary? Because in case you didn’t notice, she didn’t fucking invite me.

You just shrug.

“GT racing doesn’t exactly draw the influencer crowd,” you are definitely not imagining the way her eyes slide over to you before she looks back at Max to say, “it’s really good racing,”

You zone out right then and there. It’s like your brain short circuits from the energy it’s taking not to reach over, grab this girl by her stringy extensions, and rip. If she and Max keep talking, you don’t hear it. You don’t want to hear it. You notice Checo noticing your discomfort, even as he engages the other two in conversation. For all his quirks, Checo reads human behaviour much better than Max. Though you don’t need to be a body language expert to see how much this girl likes him.

She looking at him like she wants to eat him, hanging on unspoken words, fingers twitching on the table like she’s desperate to touch him. And he’s nodding along, because they’re so aligned that whatever she says he agrees with, and the maxplaining is one-handed now but no less enthusiastic, and you’re about to dig your nails into his skin because he is not going to have one hand almost up your skirt while another woman is flirting with him.

All these thoughts are interrupted by the appearance of one of the Red Bull media managers.

“Amy, we were hoping to get some pictures of you with the car, if you’re free?”

“Yeah, sure, one second,” she says, turning to Max. “Which way is the garage again?” Like she doesn’t have someone who clearly just came from the garage standing right next to her.

“Just through there, keep going straight,” Max says, pointing to the corridor with engineers walking in and out. You give the girl the benefit of the doubt that she’s not that stupid, just desperate.

Reluctantly, she gets to her feet. “So, I’ll give you a call to set up the test?”

“Yeah, sure,” Max says. “Or you can call Raymond. He’ll put your team in touch with the right people,”

“Okay, awesome,” she says, leaning down enough that you can see right down her shirt. “It was really great to meet you. And I meant it about the GT race,” and then, as if remembering she can’t be rude, she glances at Checo. “You guys, too,”

You wave her off, and your smile doesn’t even fall. Because it’s funny. It’s funny that a grown woman would behave like that in front of a man’s girlfriend. It’s funny that a woman gunning for sponsorship would behave like you does regular shifts in something called the “Champagne Room”.

And it’s absolutely hilarious that Max turns to you, without a care in the world, and says, “I’ve got such a headache. I stood up into the cupboard in the garage, it hurt so bad,”

You give him tight smile and pull out your phone to text Lily to see if she’s still with Alex or if she’s free for a catch up.

“What?” You hear Max say above you. You ignore him. “What? She the-“ You look up just in time to see that Checo is mouthing something to Max. “Jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” you snap, leaning back in the your chair to glare at both of them. They give each a mocking grin. “Yeah, very funny,” this sets them off snickering like school kids. “Fuck both of you.”

You get up and stalk through the room and back towards the garage. You don’t even know what you’ll do when you get there since being Max’s girlfriend had put an end to you just wandering down the pitlane and allowed in any garage. Maybe you’ll just try and find GP. If Max doesn’t catch up to you first. You can hear him calling you.

“Leibling, wait,” he’s right behind you now, and you hear him almost stumbling as he leans forward to catch you by the wrist.

You shrug him off, but stop at the door to his driver room and push it open, jerking your head to order him inside. He may be a dick, but he still deserve for the whole team to know his business. He steps into the room, reaching for your waist but you move out of his way and leave him to close the door while you lean against the physio table on the other side of the room.

He sighs when he sees how you’re looking at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I mean, I did. Not at you. I didn’t think Checo was being serious,” he defends, and by the end of his sentence he’s fighting an incredulous smile and you squeeze the edge of the physio bench to stop yourself pulling your hair. Or his.

How can this guy understand complex tyre strategy but not basic human interaction?

“You didn’t think he was serious that I was annoyed by someone flirting with you in front of me?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow. “And that I wouldn’t be annoyed at you making fun of me for it?”

Max scoffs. “She wasn’t flirting with me,”

“Oh, please.” You let out a scoff of your own. “You didn’t notice me flirting with you for three years, do not pretend you’re an expert,”

“I noticed,” Max argues, “I just didn’t take it seriously,”

“Which is why you have no leg to stand on,”

“Right, because I was just supposed to believe that you suddenly-“

“It wasn’t exactly sudden-“

“For God’s sake,” Max groans, an expression of abject confusion twisting his face. “What are we even fighting about?”

“You enjoying Lella Lombardi over there slobber all over you, and enjoying it,” the exasperation gets worse when Max’s eyes widen like this is the first he’s hearing of this entire discussion.

“I’m- she- what?” He splutters, his head shaking in disbelief. “Is this one of those Tiktok pranks?”

“I get that she’s a pilot and that makes her automatically interesting, but until I hear otherwise, you’re still in a relationship,”

Max looks at you like you’ve grown a second head; shock, concern, and a good amount of unadulterated disgust. “You can’t think I was looking at her…like that,”

The way he says it, like he’s afraid to catch cooties, like it’s it’s inconceivable, like you didn’t still have bruises of your hips in the shape of his fingertips, takes all the fight out of you. Checo was right; it’s Max. It’s feels like someone’s let all the air out of a balloon. Your shoulders slump and you sigh.

“Because that would be crazy?” You lift yourself onto the physio bench as you speak. You’re not even really sure what you’re asking. “Max Verstappen, who likes only one thing on earth, that one thing being racing, attracted to another driver rather than his influencer accessory girlfriend?”

“Actually, I like two things,” he says with that boyish smirk that has been making your stomach do backflips for longer than you care to admit.

“Stop laughing at me,” you whine, fighting the urge to smile.

“I’m not. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that she upset you. I’m sorry that I upset you,” he says, taking a careful step closer to you, but he stops there. “Even if I don’t know what I did,”

He really has no idea. He is painfully, adorably clueless.

“Nothing,” you say, because you don’t know either. Sometimes it’s just inexplicably overwhelming being Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. “Just you being you, I guess,”

Max frowns at that. “I didn’t know being myself was so offensive,” he mumbles, and you instantly feel guilty. You of all people shouldn’t make him feel bad for how much space he takes up. You of all people know how much that bothers him.

“No, it’s not that. It’s not-“ you struggle for a way to explain it. Max takes the opportunity to cross the rest of the room and stand in front of you, his expression telling you he’s waiting for you to finish. “It’s not about who you are, but sometimes the way people act around you is just…and you’re so used to it, you don’t even…you just forget who you are sometimes, Max,”

He nods soberly. “Yeah. I do, and I’m sorry,” he says. He hooks his hands under your knees and pulls your legs apart and slots between them as he drags you to the edge of the bench so that you’re pressed against him, leaning back to look up at him. “But I never forget who you are, which is the most important bit,”

You can’t help but smile at him. He’s so simple. And not because he’s unintelligent, but because he’s guileless, because who he is has never scared him. He smiles back, and it’s unguarded and unbridled and you almost forgive that girl because you’ll be damned if you don’t have a crush on him, too.

“Was she really flirting with me?” He asks curiously, looking down as his hands find your and entwine your fingers.

“Oh, yeah,” you say, and he frowns, the wheels working in head as he tries to figure out how he didn’t notice. “Like me at your mum’s on Christmas Eve in 2020 level of obvious,”

“Well,” he says with a huff. “She just blew her chance at a test,”

“You don’t have to-“

“Wait, you were flirting with me at Christmas at my mum’s?”

#max verstappen x reader

[axelsagewrites]

Aegon x sister!reader (maybe the child of Aemma) where she puts him on his place once and for all

Aegon Targaryen*Truce

Pairing: aegon x sister!reader

Word count: 2359

Warnings: arranged marriage, feud, teasing, mocking, aegon having a drinking problem, viserys being a shitty dad, swearing, talks of whores, aegon hitting on reader, angst with slight fluff at points

Masterlist Here

You hated your husband. He was rude and arrogant and a drunk and lazy and loud and egotistical and if the rumours were to be believed a whore. Aegon Targaryen was one of the most infuriating people you had ever met so when Rhanerya told you, you were to be married you screamed.

“You can’t possibly think I will go along with this! I hate him!”

“I know,”

“You know last time I saw him he told me I was prettier than all the whores in Kings Landing combined,”

“I remember,”

“And another thing-“

“Sweet sister,” Rhanerya stood from her chair to take your arms and stopping the pacing that had began to wear holes in the carpet, “You knew you had to marry eventually,” she said with a sympathetic smile.

You ripped yourself from her grip, “but to him?” you almost spat back, “What is father even thinking?”

“He’s thinking about the succession,” she said, her face morphing from concern to sternness as she began her lecture. It was one you heard a thousand times about duty and work and the crown. Rhanerya had gave you the lecture, your father had gave you the lecture, your aunts and uncles and lady’s and lords had all gave you the lecture. Maybe your mother too would have if she hadn’t died when you were so young. Even the queen Alicent had tried to give you the lecture.

-

There was no winning this argument. The debate was settled and no one heard your case. As your dear sister pointed out you didn’t even have one. You had been staying with Rhanerya in Dragonstone for some time but now it was time to return to Kings Landing.

“Daughters!” Viserys greeted with a warm hug and smile as you descended off your dragons back. “My sweet daughter,” he said, holding your hands gently, “I hope you are as excited as I am,” you did your best to smile back at him, nodding courteously to avoid another scolding.

-

“Boo,” Aegon whispered in your ear as he suddenly appeared at your back. you hated the way you jumped and hated more the way he sniggered, “How was the journey my dear, sweet, darling?” he said, moving to stand in front of you and meet your eyes with a sickeningly sweet smile.

You fixed an equally exaggerated one on yours as you spoke, “Wonderful my love. There was just one slight issue,”

“Oh, and do tell,” he said, swaying in closer, bending his head down in mock concern, “Your comfort is my top priority,”

You glanced over the full throne room which was currently filled with your betrothal celebrations. You turned back to Aegon once you were assured there was no eavesdroppers, “I never fell into the sea and drowned like I prayed for,”

You weren’t sure what the look that took over Aegon’s face was. Lust, anger, bitter hatred or sadness. It was all a mix behind his lilac eyes, “You’ve always had quite the humour my sweet,” he smiled bitterly before turning to face the room, “Quite the turnout, don’t you think?”

“Funerals tend to be popular affairs,” you mused before waltzing off into the crowd, leaving a now stunned Aegon behind to pick up his own jaw.

Aemond had only been a couple paces away when you departed and he was quick to join his brother’s side, “Must you always be a bother?”

Aegon snorted at his younger brother, “Please you didn’t even hear what I said,”

“So? I know you,”

“And?”

“I know you’re an ass,” Aemond said as casually as saying the sky was blue, “Try not drive your wife away before you’ve even wedded her. especially if you want any chance of bedding her,”

Aegon snorted, his eyes catching the floor, “Who said I wanted that?” he tried to say cooly.

Aemond leaned in to whisper in his ear, “The way your eyes are locked on her ass when she walks away,”

-

Luckily, you’d managed to avoid Aegon for the majority of the wedding lead up. Between catching up with past friends and mingling with prestigious lords you had little time for the creature. That was until tonight.

Viserys had decided there should be a dinner with his brother, wife, and all his children. You dreaded the whole affair, thinking how torturous it would be. However, you didn’t realise you would be getting off lightly.

While distant Viserys had always been kind to you at the least. he sent gifts on birthdays and said sweet even if hollow words. To Rhanerya, your older sister, he dotted on and to daemon he made jokes and laughed like old friends. However even you grimaced at the way he spoke to his sons.

To Helena he was kind though looked confused by everything she said or did or was. He barely looked towards Aemond and when he did you saw the shame behind his eyes. Anytime his attention turned to Aegon the boy seemed to shrink.

You had been sat next to your betrothed and in this time noticed how quiet he was. You were only two years older than him and always remembered when you were in Kings Landing together how he ran through corridors shouting and screaming as a child. You remembered the loud boasts he’d shout over the hall when you returned when he was a teen. However right now he was as quiet as a mouse.

Anytime his father looked at him he shrunk further into his seat and reach for his wine. The few comments Viserys made towards his eldest son had been lack lustre and cold. When Rhanerya asked about his achievements he would make jokes about the time he dropped a sword during a pretend dule.

“I was eight fathers,” Aegon tried to defend himself but when Viserys made another jib he just finished the wine in his cup instead of argue.

As Viserys and daemon laughed loudly, telling a drunken story from their youth to each other despite both being there at the time, you turned to Aegon, “Are you okay?” you whispered, so quietly only he would hear.

His eyebrow raised slightly, mostly in shock you spoke to him willingly let alone to ask him a question. A forced smile pulled on his lips as he slightly raised his cup, “I am drunk,”

“That’s not what I asked,” you whispered back, glancing back at the laughing older men at the other end of the table, “I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be,” Aegon whispered, draining his cup for what felt like the fifth time, “It’s not your fault I’m a screw up,”

You wanted to defend him but as you opened your mouth you heard an ‘oohing’ from the bottom of the table, “The love birds are at it,” Daemon announced, nudging his brother’s side with his elbow. Cackles came from them both and sympathetic smiles from the rest of the table.

-

By the end of dinner, the king was slurring his words and everyone else was exhausted. Aegon stood from his chair, stumbling slightly and earning a heavy sigh from his mother. “Perhaps the prince could escort me to my chambers? After all this castle can be a maze at the best of times,” you suggested to the room.

Your eldest sister was shocked, but Alicent was quick to usher you both away. As soon as you exited the room Aegon went to stumble and fall and without thinking you reached out to steady him, “Careful!” you chastised.

Aegon ignored your pleas and instead slung his arm over your shoulder. You grabbed his hand that was dangling far to close to your breasts for comfort and pulled it away. Instead, you linked your arm with his, “Well that was torturous,” he slurred as you walked the halls.

“Is he always such an ass?” you asked as you reached some dreaded stairs.

“Nah,” Aegon said, shaking his head as he walked up stairs like a baby dear, “He stays away from me most of the time. First dinner I’ve had with him in what, four months? Maybe five actually. When was his name day again?” he asked.

“Nine months ago,” you said, and he clicked his fingers, nodding his head in affirmation before going quiet. “I’m sorry,” you said, breaking the silence.

 “Why?” he asked as you approached the corridor to his room, “You’ve never done anything wrong. Even as kids you were always perfect,”

“I was hardly perfect,” you laughed, remembering all the antics you were involved in, “You were just overly naughty,”

“Its more fun that way,” he winked, a smirk growing on his face as he lent in. you pushed him away, but this time laughed slightly as you did. “Hey this is my room!” he said as you approached the door, “I was to escort you to yours,” he tried to walk past you, but you easily pushed him back with one hand.

“I think I’ll manage,”

“You sure?”

“Positive,”

“Okay,” he yawned, pawing at the doorknob before finally opening it, “Unless of course you want to sleep here,” he added as he stood in the doorway.

“I think ill pass,” you said, screwing your nose up at him though finding the drunken smile on his face oddly endearing.

That was until he kept talking, “C’mon sweetheart. You’ll be joining me here soon enough,” he said as his eyes tried to trail your frame.

Instead, you stepped forward, shoving his chest making him sway back far enough for you to grab the door handle, “Goodnight Aegon,” you sighed before shutting the door behind him and walking back to your own chambers.

-

You somehow saw even less of Aegon after that night. It was odd though. You actually found yourself looking for him in crowded rooms. “Is your brother alright?” you asked Aemond one evening as you stumbled across him in the library.

He looked up with a light smirk on his face, “why? Don’t tell me you’re becoming fond of him,” he teased making you let out a heavy sigh.

“No, I just wanted to make sure my betrothed wasn’t dead in a ditch or collecting diseases at a brothel,”

Aemond laughed lightly at that, “No not this time. He’s been in his room mostly. Don’t know why though. He wont talk much. He gets like this sometimes. Don’t worry though it will pass,”

“I wasn’t worried,” you said before turning to leave.

“You haven’t even touched a book yet,” Aemond called after you, but you ignored his teasing to find Aegon.

-

When you arrived at his room you knocked quickly but when no one answered you did it again but louder. A few moments passed before you groaned and checked the door to find it unlocked. You opened it without hesitation, “Who’s there!” a startled voice came from the sheets.

Aegon struggled to sit up for a moment as you closed the door behind you and placed your hands on your hips, “It’s been a week,”

“Hello to you too,” he sighed, flinging himself back into bed when he realised it was you.

You groaned as you walked over to him, ripping the sheets off his body as he yelped. You were thankful he was at the least wearing a shirt and his small clothes. “Are you avoiding me?”

“Is everything about you?”

“Do you always have to be an ass?” you retorted.

Aegon sighed as he finally sat up in bed, “Why do you care? You don’t even like me,”

Against your better judgement you sat down on the edge of the bed, “Well it looks like there’s no escape for me, so I better try,”

“Oh great, a pity conversation,” Aegon rolled his eyes, “How romantic,”

You couldn’t help it anymore. It had all been building up. The tears were pricking your eyes. You felt your hand slap his cheek and watched his face fill with shock. “I am trying,” you said, standing up and pointing at him as a few spare tears trickled down your cheeks, “I never asked for this and neither did you, but I am trying. You can’t flirt with me and check me out and expect me to fawn over you. I’m not some common whore and even then, they’re paid to like that kind of crap,”

Aegon’s face had softened slightly during your rant, but he soon fixed a distant look on his face. “don’t act so innocent. the first thing you did when you arrived is tell me you’d rather kill yourself than marry me,” You felt your shoulders slump at his words. “You always hated me,”

“Then stop giving me reasons too,” you said and as he went to sigh you cut his defences off, “Stop checking me out when I talk to you and undress me with your eyes. Stop going to the silk streets and visiting brothels. Stop making bitchy comments about me and stop pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. And for the love of the gods do it sober,” you ranted however when you stopped the room fell silent.

Aegon eventually broke it as his voice cracked, “Then what? You’ll love me?”

“No,” you said plainly but you returned to sit beside him on the bed, “But then we could be friends. Or at the least try. I don’t want to hate you Aegon, but you drive me crazy,” a small smile went on his face at the last line, “You enjoy making me mad,”

“Sometimes,” he confessed, his smile growing, “It’s funny when you’re mad,”

“Then I must be hilarious,” you joked, “So do we have a truce?”

Aegon paused for a moment before putting his hand out for you to shake, “Truce,” he said as you accepted his handshake, “So what is it friends do?”

You tilted your head at him, almost out of pity, “I don’t know. We could talk?”

“You always get annoyed when we do that,” he said making you huff. A grin spread on his face, “See?”

You rolled your eyes at the blonde, “I hate you,”

His grin widened, “For once I don’t believe that”

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#house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #house of the dragon preference #aegon targaryen #prince aegon #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon imagine #aemond x reader #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones #hotd #hotd imagine #aegon targaryen angst #aegon angst

[bit-dodgy-innit]

We're Not Here to F*ck Spiders

Summary: You were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel took a special interest in you. He wanted to know if your life would correspond with his and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. After an offhanded comment about reviewing your canon with Miguel outside of headquarters, your relationship with Spider-Man 2099 is forever changed.

Set in between ITSV and ATSV.

Pairing: Marc x OC Female!Reader

For context, Reader is an alternate, grown-up version of Mayday due to personal reasons (personal reasons being I’ve been obsessed with Mayday Parker since I was baby child)! No real use of Y/N, though Miguel does refer to the reader as "May" twice and Peter Parker nicknamed her Mayhem. Peter B.'s daughter is Mayday.

Word Count: 10.2k words (see why this took me forever?!)

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!!

CW/TW: An obscene amount of world-building, parents and kids fighting, mentions of a loss of a child, everyone being hot for Miguel, rough-ish sex (both partners are superheroes, come on), our boy is HUNG, dirty talk, a bit of cocky dom!Miguel, oral f!receiving, a lil bit of both m and f!receiving nipple play, PIV sex, riding, a quick spank, creampie, felching, and perhaps most intense of all, Miguel’s fear of commitment.

A/N: hahahahahaha this movie is nearly a year old and I FINALLY got around to writing a fic for it! Trust that I've been working on this on and off for a while now, but life has been nuts and writing more and more for work (yay!) but wanted to get this out while I had a slow week for everyone to enjoy!

Also, due to more personal reasons, my HC for Reader's parents are Peter and Mary Jane from Sam Raimi's masterpiece in 2002. But no presh if that doesn't jibe with ya!

I MADE A PLAYLIST FOR THIS FIC AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE PROUD OF ANYTHING

“Careful, Mayday!” you fondly called after the child who was literally bouncing off the cavernous walls of HQ. Yeesh, were you this energetic when you were her age? Probably. It never ceased to be weird, hanging out with an alternate baby version of yourself, but you could manage if you pretended she was your little niece, or sister, or something like that. 

The alternate baby version of Mayday Parker in question didn’t heed your admonishment at all (which tracked), so you called again, “Oh noooo…I’m gonna have to come up there and get ya!”

Mayday squealed in delight at your “threat” and only zipped around quicker. However, you had a couple decades on her, so your reflexes were more attuned. It didn’t take long for you to capture her in your grasp and tickle her. However, little Mayday wasn’t going to give up that easily. She squirmed out of your hold and began scaling the nearby wall at a dizzying pace. 

“Okay, missy, let’s settle down,” you announced, shooting a web to meet the infant on the platform she’d crawled onto. You continued to speak as you swung, “you know how Miguel is, we can’t get too carried…away.”

You nearly threw yourself back off the platform when you were met with the sight of Miguel himself standing before you holding May. 

“Oh, hi,” you gestured to the squirming girl in his hands, “thanks. I was right behind her.” 

“What am I like?” He asked, an inquisitive arch in his brow. 

“You’re…you run a tight ship that’s all,” you wished a portal would swallow you whole. “And it’s great! We need it.”

“Are you supposed to be anywhere?” Miguel prodded further as he passed you May. 

“Me? No, it's my day off.”

“Then why are you here?” 

“Because you put Peter B. on a mission and it gives me anxiety when he takes her.” 

“You and me both,” he huffed. 

“That being said, anything I can help you with?”

“Yeah actually, I have new sequencing to go over with you.” 

Though the multiverse was ever-expanding, you were the oldest Spider-Girl the society had ever encountered, therefore, Miguel had taken a special interest in you. Since you were a second generation Spider, Miguel wanted to know if your life would correspond with his, your dad’s, and the other Spiders’ canon, or whether you had a completely different canon you were forging on your own. You initially found the whole concept fascinating, yet that interest waned pretty quickly when Miguel informed you that he was going to have Lyla analyze your entire life and have you expound on your experiences so he could compare you to the other Spiders. 

Not that there was anything you were particularly ashamed of, but some of this stuff was embarrassing. Unlike baby Mayday, whose powers had already emerged, yours didn’t make an appearance until puberty. Reviewing your awkward teen years wasn’t exactly your ideal way of spending time with an unfairly hot guy, let alone the head of Spider Society.  

“Oh okay, yeah,” you replied. “When Peter gets ba—“

“MAYDAY! WHERE’S MY PUMPKIN?” Peter’s voice echoed across the room. 

No sooner had Peter spoken did Mayday websling herself off of the platform and into her father’s arms. 

Shit, there went your excuse. A nervous chuckle escaped you, “Convenient.” 

“Sí. Follow me.”

You did as Miguel said and trailed behind him to his…office didn’t quite describe it. Work station? Lair? You lasted all of forty-five seconds before your gaze dropped to his sculpted backside, a new record for you. 

It really was unfair that the intense, ornery leader of the Spider Society had to be so damn fine. You were a superhero and a consummate professional, but at the end of the day, you were a mostly heterosexual human woman with eyes. Miguel was stupidly sexy. His shoulder-to-waist ratio, that chiseled face, and of course, perfectly round ass had been the topic of a few hushed, giggly conversations between you and the other Spiders that liked boys. 

It was only ever cheeky whispers however. All of you knew better than to catch any real feelings for Miguel. One, it was majorly inappropriate. And two, he’d built emotional walls higher than the tallest skyscrapers in Nueva York. 

Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander every now and then…you blamed it on your latest breakup. Spider-Girl duties had yet again claimed another potential partner. You suspected that was the reason it was more and more difficult not to fantasize about Miguel lately. Like sure, he was probably an animal in bed in the best way, but it was the prospect of not having to hide anything from him that appealed to you even more. 

“Lyla, bring up the latest sequencing,” Miguel ordered. 

If it weren’t for your spider-senses, you would’ve collided with his impossibly cut back, you were so deep into your thirsty thoughts. 

Suddenly, you were back on Earth-982A in your childhood bedroom. Or at least, that’s where you appeared to be. The virtual surroundings would’ve been comforting if it weren’t for the particular event that Miguel had wanted to revisit. 

Your father was forbidding you to use your powers. Again. You gazed at the rendering of your teenage self with compassion. Now, your father was fully supportive of you following in his footsteps, but the journey there had been rough. 

“You know, most parents would be happy if their kid wanted to do something to help the world!” 

Your dad scoffed. “That doesn’t matter - I’m not most parents and you’re not most kids!”

“Yeah and whose fault is that?!” Virtual you fired back. “I was born like this because of you! Dad, you’re always telling me that ‘with great power, comes great responsibility’ and now when I discover I inherited that great power, I can’t use it!?” 

“Pause,” Miguel’s voice spooked you back into the present. When you finally shook yourself from the memory that was playing before you, you found his eyes on yours. “Okay, there. Define ‘always’.”

“Quantitatively?” 

“Preferably.” 

“That’s impossible.” 

“Qualitatively, then.” 

“I mean, it's one of those things he said so much that I can’t remember the first time I heard it.” 

“When did your dad first hear it?” 

“His Uncle Ben told him during their last conversation together.” 

“Checks out. And how old was he?” 

“He was a senior in high school, so like seventeen, eighteen?” 

Miguel nodded. Even though x-ray vision nor telepathy weren’t in your powerset, you could practically see all the comparisons and calculations he was making in his head. 

“So using your powers to help people, that was your instinct when you inherited your abilities.”

“Yeah.” 

Miguel nodded again. 

“It’s different, isn’t it?” you asked him. He didn’t reply. “My dad told me he entered some god awful cage-match-wrestling-thing to get enough money to buy a car and impress my mom before he officially became Spider-Man.” 

Miguel was seemingly too busy with entering his latest data to respond. Instead, he barked at Lyla, “Resume sequence.” 

The holographic version of your dad lurched back to life to argue, “May, you are my great responsibility! So if I say no powers, no powers! I did this a lot longer than you! ” 

Tears streamed down your adolescent face. Thankfully, you’d lost some of the baby fat since.  “I hate you! I HATE YOU DAD!!” 

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. This wasn’t easy to live, let alone re-live. So, as a Spider, naturally you made a jaunty, off-handed comment. “Wow, you really know how to show a girl a good time.” 

“Qué?” 

“Nothing.” He fixed you with his signature scowl so you elaborated, “Seriously, nothing. Though, maybe if we did this in an environment where I had access to alcohol and carbs, this would be less um…less unsettling for me.”

Miguel stared at you blankly. “But the simulator is here.”

“Right, of course.” Ughhhh, why was he so damn pretty?! “Forget I said anything, Miguel.” 

He dropped it, but before the simulation could start again, your gizmo beeped. Benji’s basketball game started in twenty. 

“Actually, sorry, I have to go.” 

“But we just got started.” 

“I know, but I haven’t been able to catch one of my little brother’s games yet this season, and it’s almost the playoffs.”

“Won’t he under–”

You interrupted Miguel. “You realize spider-stuff is not a viable excuse with my family, right? Besides, it’s my day off. I’m only here out of the goodness of my own heart and my commitment to the Spider-Society.” 

He rolled his eyes at your remark, but couldn’t help a little half - nay, quarter - smile from forming across the lips you had fantasized about kissing one too many times. “Things are quiet for once. We should knock this out now.” 

“We should,” you conceded as you created a portal, “but trying to have some semblance of work-life balance is Spider-Girl canon.”

And with that, you hopped back into your world, before you could change your mind or say anything else stupid and/or unintentionally flirty to Miguel. 

You re-appeared in your apartment with just enough time to throw on clothes and swing over to the middle school. Your mom was waiting as you hurried into the gym right as Benji and the other players were taking the court. 

“Look who made it,” MJ observed wryly. 

“Ha ha,” you fired back humorlessly, but pulled your mom into a hug all the same. “Where’s Dad?”

The ref’s whistle signaled tip off and the beginning of the game, momentarily distracting you two. You were thrilled to see Benji starting – he really wanted to make JV when he started high school next year, and this was a step in the right direction. 

“Go Benji!!” MJ cheered before answering your question, “He hit traffic coming from the station. He’ll be here soon.” 

Your collective attention was pulled to the game unfolding in front of you, then MJ asked, “What have you been up to today?” 

“Me? I was at the society for a bit, helping with the baby.”

You didn’t need to see your mother to know that she tensed at the mention of the Spider-Society and Peter B.’s Mayday. It, understandably, weirded her out. 

“How can it not be strange to care for–”

“It would be if we were closer in age,” you pointed out. “But it’s just like babysitting with Mayday right now. And trust me, after all the versions of Dad I’ve met, hanging out with little me is nothing.” 

Despite being weirded out, your mom always tried to empathize, so she switched gears. “Anything interesting happen?” 

“Ugh, just more sequencing with Miguel - today was a tough one.”

“Why?”

“Fights with Dad from years ago that I know we’ve moved past, but still suck to watch.” 

Your mom took your hand in hers, a much-needed grounding gesture. “Well, you’re back in the present, in your corner of the universe now, sweetie.” 

You gave her hand an appreciative squeeze and took her words to heart, focusing on the basketball game in front of you. It didn’t take too long to put the earlier events from headquarters behind you – Benji scored a couple baskets and you took it upon yourself to meticulously document the game on your phone for memories and possible future blackmail. 

When your Dad did join you and MJ, you couldn’t help but hug him tightly. You buried your face into his coat, which smelled like a mix of smoke from the streets and his aftershave. 

It was Peter’s mix of spider and paternal instincts that prompted him to ask, “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” you assured him, giving him some space. “I just–I love you, Dad.” 

“Love you too, Mayhem.” Where Mayday was Peter B’s moniker for his daughter, Mayhem was your dad’s nickname for you.

The game ended in victory for Benji’s team, the Midtown Mavericks, and you three waited for the youngest member of the Parker family to emerge from the locker room. 

Benji’s face when he saw you made any lingering discomfort you had leaving Miguel one thousand percent worth it. “You made it!” 

“Wouldn’t miss it!” you pulled Benji into a hug - however reluctant he was to it since he was a ~teenager~ now. “Dude, you put up points tonight!” 

But Benji had gotten distracted, so instead of responding to you, he murmured “Woah, that guy is swole.” 

You turned around to see who he was talking about and your jaw nearly hit the floor. 

It was Miguel. 

Even more incredibly, he was in civilian clothes. It wasn’t until you witnessed him in dark wash jeans, a henley, and a well-worn bomber jacket that you realized that you’d actually never seen Miguel in anything other than his spider suit. 

He called your name and you acknowledged him with a wave, flabbergasted. Even more astonished that you knew this very attractive hunk of man was your brother, “Wait, you know him?!”

“We work together,” you said quietly. 

“At the paper?” Benji was confused. 

“No, at my other job.” 

“Oh,” it clicked for him. “That makes sense. Man, I hope I get that jacked when I get my powers.” 

“Shhhh, be cool Benji,” you urged him. 

“Um, I’m not the one you have to worry about,” he harrumphed. “Oh shit, you like him.”

Though there was more than a decade between you and Benji, your little brother was still your little brother.  “No! He’s the head of the Spider-Society and he’s–you’ll see.” 

You took a step forward to greet Miguel before anyone else from your family could get to him. “Hey! What’re you doing here?” 

“I wanted to finish our work today, and since it’s your day off, I decided to come to you.” 

“Miguel O’Hara making a compromise? How not canon. Wonder how big of a hole that’s gonna tear in the multiverse.” 

“Shut up,” he ordered you playfully. 

“Miguel, good to see you!” Your dad strode over and pulled the younger spider-man into a handshake. 

“You too, Dr. Parker.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how oddly deferential Miguel was with your dad. He’d met Peter first, when he was establishing the Arachnohumanoid Polymultiverse. Miguel was stunned to discover that this Peter was not only retired, but had a full-grown daughter who’d taken up his crime-fighting mantle. Apparently your dad’s canon was particularly important and central to the greater Spiderverse, which meant Miguel would pester you with questions about him constantly. 

“Is everything okay?” Peter asked, “You don’t usually make house calls.” 

Before Miguel could explain, an elbow nearly sent you into careening into his broad chest. Mom. 

“Miguel, this is my mom, Mary Jane.” 

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Parker,” Miguel dutifully offered his hand to her. 

“The pleasure is mine,” your mom gushed, “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Benji was right. He was not the person you had to be worried about. A rip in the multiverse to swallow you whole would be rather convenient right about now. 

Miguel’s brow creased. “You have?”

“She hasn’t,” you intervened. “Like two or three things in passing, max. Promise I haven’t broken my NDA or you know, the superhero code of secrecy or anything.” 

Mercifully, Miguel let it slide for the time being. He turned to your brother. “And you must be Benji.” 

“Yeah,” Benji confirmed, doing a terrible job of pitching his voice lower. “‘Sup, bro.” 

Jesus Christ. At this point, you were ready to rip the fabric of reality yourself to end this. 

“Congrats on the win. Hate to do this, but I need to steal your sister for a bit.” 

“No problem, I know she’s fine with it.” Perhaps Benji needed a reminder regarding which sibling had the super powers. “Also, what’s your workout–”

“Well, as fun as this all is, we should probably get back to work.”

Your family didn’t put up much of a fight – thank God – as pleasantries were exchanged and you and Miguel took off. You hoped Miguel didn’t catch when your mother mouthed “So handsome!!” to you as everyone said their goodbyes. Finally, it was just the two of you walking down East 36th Street. 

“Sorry about them,” you began. 

He looked at you, puzzled. “Why?” 

“My family. Embarrassing.” 

“They’re not embarrassing. They’re…they’re nice,” there was pain behind Miguel’s eyes. “It’s interesting. Your brother hasn’t experienced any spider-abilities, has he?” 

“No,” you confirmed. “Not yet.”

You two slowed to stop on the corner. Miguel looked at you expectantly. “So, where to?”

“What do you mean?” 

“You said you wanted to do this in an environment where you ‘had access to alcohol and carbs’.” 

“Oh! Right. Hmmm, where are we?” you looked up at the cross streets above you. “36th and 3rd? I know a place.” 

You took Miguel to a little hole-in-the-wall Italian spot nearby. Since it was so close to Benji’s school and your old middle and high school, you had spent many a week night at their tables, either working on homework or chowing down after basketball practice. 

Therefore, the staff knew you – it was a family owned spot, you’d basically grown up with the owner’s children, Maria and Chris. Though you graduated from Midtown Charter a looong time ago, they still took care of you. Maria had even let you use their first aid kit once, no questions asked, after a nasty Spider-Girl skirmish nearby. You didn’t suspect she knew anything, but even if she did, you could trust Maria to be discreet. 

At least, you thought you could trust Maria, but when she showed you and Miguel to your table, and Miguel made a pit stop at the restroom, she very indiscreetly asked, “Daaaamn, girl. He your boyfriend? Because you–”

“No!”

“You getting dicked down by him?” 

“No!” 

“Can I get dicked down by him? He single? Does he like the ladies?” 

“Maria, he’s a colleague. Actually, he’s my superior. So no…unfortunately, no.” 

Maria cackled with delight. “That’s a pen worth sticking in your company ink. I’ll bring you some garlic bread.”

“And a glass of red wine,” you added. “no, a bottle.”

“That’s my girl!” 

In theory, you had thought that reviewing sequencing outside of headquarters would’ve been less awkward, but in reality, it was more so. You couldn’t stop drinking in the sight of Miguel in normal clothes, the intimacy of having a meal together when usually your interactions were so sterile and professional, plus there was a little voice in your head screaming that THIS WAS BASICALLY A DATE on repeat.

“So should we pick up where we left off?” Miguel asked. The question brought you back down to Earth. Despite that little persistent voice in your head oohing and ahhing at him, it was clear that Miguel didn’t think this was a date. This dinner was a means to end, nothing more. 

“Let me get a little wine drunk first,” you bargained. 

“Yeah, but you have sped-up metabolism, so that’ll take at least–” 

“That was a joke. Miguel, when was the last time you went out to dinner?” 

He seemed to truly consider the question, then, “I don’t know.” 

You’d never heard Miguel say those three words in that order before. 

“I promise you I will go over my cringe teen years with you, but can we eat some garlic bread and not get drunk off this very nice bottle of wine first?” 

“You’re worse than Lyla,” his eyes narrowed. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“She’s always trying to get me to take breaks.”

“You should! There’s only so much self-flagellation a human can take, even if they’re a superhero.” 

Miguel’s response was a very inarticulate grumble. Maria dropped off the wine, bread, and took your order. You didn’t know what was more insane – the amount of food Miguel ordered or how unabashedly Maria was ogling him. 

“Let me guess, Lyla’s the one who suggested the field trip to my home dimension?”

Another grumble, this one in the affirmative. 

“Classic,” you remarked with a snort before taking a gulp from your glass. “I love that your AI is smarter than you.” 

“Of course she is, she can access all of the multiverse’s knowledge in a nano-second.’

“That’s not what I meant.”

“What did you mean then?” 

“Can we not talk about me for a second?” 

“Why?” 

“Because…because, I don't know, I was hoping doing this in a more casual environment would–it’d make it feel more like a conversation.” 

“We are having a conversation.” 

“Jeez, Miguel,” you took another sip of wine. “It’s not easy digging through my past like this. A lot of the time it feels more like an interrogation.” 

“Ah.” 

“Yeah. And don’t get me wrong, I want to help you, help the Spider-Society, but the one-sidedness of this is exhausting.”

“Exhausting.” He sounded dubious. 

“You know what? Forget it. I’ll take care of the bill and see you tomorrow, and we can go back to reviewing the sequencing like we normally do. I should know better than to complain to you.” 

Miguel looked at you if your words had stung him. “You can complain to me.” 

“No, I can’t,” you disputed. “You’re the most self-sacrificing Spider out of any of us–which is really saying something, by the way–and I feel lame talking about my feelings with you.”

“And that’s why our reviews feel like interrogations,” he was putting it together. 

“Yeah. Sorry to drag you out of HQ.”

Miguel scrutinized you with a long, unreadable look before announcing, “I’m not leaving before I have my bolognese.”

You didn’t know whether to smile or scream. Miguel may have lacked the traditional spidey precognitive sense, and the signature spider sense of humor, but he definitely had the stubbornness you all seemed to possess. 

You shot him a sidelong glare. “Why did you come here?” 

“I told you - I wanted to finish sequencing and Lyla suggested coming to you.” 

“But you didn’t have to take her suggestion.”

Miguel’s large frame shifted in the chair that suddenly appeared too small for him. “Like you said, she’s smarter than me, so I did. And yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve gone out to dinner.”

You didn’t know how to react to that. Right before the silence became intolerable, Miguel spoke again, “You still with that gu–’

“No.” The last thing you wanted to talk about with Miguel was your failed relationship with Gene, and you’d once discussed the correlation of getting your first period could’ve had with your powers emerging with him.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I mean, you get it.”

Miguel at last took a sip from his glass. “All too well.” 

“The price of being a hero, right?” you sent him a small, sympathetic smile across the table. “Or at least that’s what I tell myself.” 

“Your parents seemed to have figured it out,” he pointed out. 

“Well, that took like decades, and according to you, they’re canon, right? So it was meant to be. I guess that’s one of the comforts of having a canon-confirmed soulmate.” 

“Yeah, if you're Peter Parker.” 

Your heart sank at the implication. “So that means if a Spider isn’t Peter we’re meant to die alone?” 

“I don’t know,” Miguel’s eyes were averted. “Maybe only if you’re a Miguel O’Hara.” 

“Stop, you could get anyone in this restaurant to sleep with you,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Our waitress has to resist climbing on top of you whenever she passes the table.”

He swatted away the implication as if it were a pest. “That’s different.”

“You know, it might help with the stress.”

“What?”

“Letting someone climb on top of you.”

Miguel glared at you, “Don’t.”

“See? It’s not fun being on the other side of the questions,” you smirked. Your conversation was briefly suspended when Maria returned with your entrees. After thanking her, you refocused back on Miguel, “Can I ask you something else?”

“No.”

“DADA!” A child, who couldn’t have been more than three, screeched happily from a neighboring table. 

Miguel froze. For the first time in the several months that you’d known him, you saw his face soften. The warmth that filled his eyes at the sight of the toddler was undeniable. The fond expression hardened back into his stoic facade within an instant, yet Miguel couldn’t fully conceal the anguish that clearly still haunted him. He never could. 

“Sorry,” you said softly. 

He shook off your condolences. “What’d you want to ask me?” 

“Have you tried seeing anyone after…” it felt forbidden to say Gabriella’s name out loud. 

“What’s the point?” Miguel shrugged. “I don’t have the time, even if I wanted to.” 

“Right,” you hedged. 

Eventually, you and Miguel were able to find things to talk about outside of work and your respective traumas. You compared notes on the lamest villain you’d each encountered rounding up anomalies, discussed the idea of a nursery for spider-babies, or as Miguel insisted on calling them, “second-generation Spiders” – Peter couldn’t keep taking his kid on missions, plus Jessica Drew had just learned she was expecting – you even got Miguel to open up about his teenage days some. 

“Makes sense you were a rebel,” you chuckled, taking one last bite of the tiramisu Maria insisted was on the house.  

“Yeah? Why?” Miguel prodded.

“Because you-re so uptigh–upstanding now.” 

You were treated to another rare grin from Miguel, this time a half smile rather than a quarter. “Nice save.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you contended with put-on innocence. 

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t always like what I have to do, you know.” 

Your gaze locked directly with his for a breath-taking second, his eyes garnets in the low light of the dining room. “We should get going, I've taken you away from headquarters for long enough.” 

“You act like I’ve never left HQ before, and if anything, I took you away from your family,” Miguel parried, yet stood up nonetheless. You followed suit, only mildly disappointed he didn’t argue with you about leaving. As awkward as this dinner initially was, you’d actually ended up enjoying it. “I’ll take you home.”

Miguel’s words stopped you in your tracks, “You know I’m the protector of this city, right?” 

“Obviously, I—” he huffed as you waved goodbye to Maria and exited back onto the street. “Mierda May, I’m trying to be a gentleman here.”

Oh. Oh. Did Miguel think this was a date too? Date was too strong of a word – did Miguel think this was a not-entirely-work-related-hang too? 

You struggled to keep your face blasé. “Ah, okay. We taking the subway or are we swinging?” 

Miguel shot you a look as if the choice was obvious, which is how you found yourself traipsing across the city with Spider-Man 2099. You’d traveled by web plenty of times with Miguel before on missions, but there was something about it being the two of you, in your city, that made it feel just a little bit special. 

And to be honest, you’d never get enough of watching Miguel’s body hurtle through the air – despite his bulk and brawn, he was agile and lithe as he swung from building to building with you. You nearly plunged into traffic on Sixth Avenue after your thoughts had wandered to what those bulging muscles looked like unencumbered by that skin-tight suit of his. 

When you arrived at your apartment in Morningside Heights, you were suddenly self-conscious. You’d never brought a Spider to your residence, and Miguel was likely the hardest to impress of them all. 

He studied your modest one-bedroom with the same intensity as he did his screens at the Spider-Society. 

“It’s not much, I know,” you began, “and with Spider-Girl stuff, I don’t have the time to keep it as tidy as I'd like to.”

“It’s perfect,” he mumbled before catching himself. “I mean, it’s perfect for you.” 

“Yeah, I don’t need much, but it gets good light during the day and was the highest floor I could afford at my price point,” you removed your mask as you babbled on. 

“Makes sense,” Miguel nodded. 

You had no idea where to go from there – what on Earth was the man playing at? Should you offer him water, another drink, the best spot to portal back to HQ? He was lingering in your space, seemingly fascinated by the framed prints on your walls, the photos on the coffee table and credenza. 

“Um, do you need to use the restroom or something? Because it’s right through there,” you motioned to the appropriate door. 

“I’m good for now.”

THEN WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU STILL DOING HERE? You hollered in your head. Externally, you kept playing hostess, “Let me get you a glass of water then–”

Yet Miguel caught your wrist before you could retreat into your tiny, galley kitchen. You weren’t proud of how your heart leapt and your breath hitched at the contact. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting back?” 

He shrugged, “I should, but–”

“But what?” 

“I’ve been thinking about what you said…about letting someone climb on top of me.” 

You gulped, “Sorry, that was so inappropriate of me–”

“It was. Inappropriate, that is, but it doesn’t mean it wasn’t a good idea,” he tugged you closer to him. You could barely stand to meet his eyes, alight with desire, while your heart was pounding embarrassingly fast. 

“Um, judging by the–uh, do you want me to climb on top of you, Miguel?” you were always so much smoother in your daydreams about him. 

His lips hovered dangerously near yours. “Do you want to climb on top of me?” 

The closer you got to Miguel, the faster your brain turned to scrambled eggs. His large, sure hands had settled on your hips. 

“Uh huh,” was the best you could muster before he crashed your lips together. 

Miguel’s kiss was searing and all-consuming – it felt as if the longer your mouths moved against each other, the more your body melted into his. He was tall, so tall, and even for a superhero like yourself, it was difficult to keep yourself perched on the balls of your feet to reach his skilled, hungry mouth. 

He seemed to sense your struggle, and without breaking your liplock, he scooped you up into his arms. It was foreign but not unwelcome – you were so used to being the strongest, the person who held others, the hero. Therefore, being held so effortlessly in Miguel’s arms was nothing short of exhilarating. You weren’t the strongest person in the room anymore, you could surrender. You loved it.

Miguel pressed your back into the nearest wall, causing an emphatic moan to leave you when your hips became flush with his. You could already feel him – hot, hard, and big – between the flimsy fabric of your spider-suits. Instinctually, you canted your heat against his, delighting in the way he seemed to grow hotter, harder, not to mention unbelievably bigger, when you did. 

“Bedroom?” he gasped between harsh, ardent kisses. 

You managed to fling a hand in the correct direction, and next thing you knew, Miguel was depositing you onto your bed. You propped yourself up, leaning back on your palms to take in the man towering over you at the edge of your bed. In a flash of color and light, his suit disappeared from his strapping physique, and the sight of Miguel naked intoxicated you more than alcohol ever could. 

His shoulders seemed even broader without the unstable particles of his suit covering them. His pecs were massive, which made a delectable ratio when his chest tapered down to a chiseled abdomen and slim hips. Slim hips that framed the biggest cock you’d seen outside of porn – hell, maybe even including porn. He was long and thick – it made a dark thrill race down your spine when you contemplated how the hell that was going to fit inside of you. 

Miguel noticed you marveling at his package, misinterpreting the rapacious glint in your eye as unease, “I’ll prep you, I won’t hurt you.” 

“Oh, I’m not worried” you glanced back up at his face coquettishly. 

“No?” Miguel cocked an eyebrow and advanced toward you on the bed, a jaguar stalking its prey. He nudged you onto your back and pinned your wrists to your comforter, “maybe you should be.” 

You muscled out of Miguel’s grip and switched positions so you were straddling him. Only then did you lean closer and whisper into his ear, “I can take it.” 

Miguel growled, and within an instant, you were on your back once again as he pawed at your suit. Unlike his costume, your spider-suit was made of plain old fabric, so there was a bit of fumbling, cursing in Spanish, nervous giggling, and a mumbled comment about ‘making you a suit like mine’ from Miguel before you were nude as well. 

He splayed you out against your mattress as if you were a feast before him. Your first instinct was to try and cover yourself but Miguel’s dark gaze froze you. A pleased groan rumbled from his chest and then his large hands flew to your breasts. “Such full, perky tits.”

You moaned in response to his ministrations. How was this real? You and Miguel were touching each other – naked – and you hadn’t woken up yet. 

“It’s all for you,” you mewled, relishing his hot palms on your sensitive buds. 

Another growl ripped from his chest before he swooped down and sucked one of your nipples into his warm, wanting mouth. You keened, a pathetic, high-pitched sound, and you wove your fingers into his dark locks as he gorged himself on your tits. 

The pull of Miguel’s mouth on your peaks was made only better when he snaked a hand between your legs and ran a finger along the seam of your sex. You bucked at the touch, your reaction causing Miguel to lift his head from your bosom. 

“Mmmm, you like it when I play with your pussy, cariño?”

At this point words had all but left you so you nodded and whined in the affirmative. Miguel’s digit parted your folds, tracing up and down, then found your clit and rubbed slow, tortuous circles into the nub. 

“So wet for me, bebita,” he observed, maddeningly casually, while he played you like an instrument. “This is all for me, huh?”

Your head thrashed back and forth on your comforter with a sob, both from pleasure and bashfulness. Now there was no downplaying how horny Miguel made you. 

“Shhh,” he cooed at you, taking one of your hands and bringing it to his groin, “feel what you do to me.”

This time your moan was unabashed as your hand circled around his girth. “Fuck, you’re so big.” 

“I know,” he grunted. Normally, such braggadocio from a man would be an immediate turn off to you. But Miguel wasn’t being arrogant, not when he was referring to the thick, pulsing hardness you were currently caressing. “Gotta get you ready for me.”  

He guided your hand away from his member, even despite your protests, to wrench your thighs wider and bury his head between them. The realization alone that Miguel O’Hara was about to eat you out almost made you come, yet actually feeling his tongue on your needy cunt was infinitely better. He licked a stripe from your perineum to your clit, tearing another ragged moan from you when his tongue focused in on the bundle of nerves. 

Miguel chuckled against your folds at your enthusiastic praise and redoubled his efforts. Your fingers reflexively tangled in his inky locks once again as he continued his delectable assault on your pussy. The way Miguel tasted you matched with how he seemed to approach everything – he was vehement and determined to bring you pleasure like how he was when he worked. He managed to just stay on the right side of rough as he slurped at you..though perhaps that was a bit different than how he fought.

He speared his tongue into your hole, affording you the opportunity to grind your clit against his prominent nose. In your pleasure-filled haze, you briefly fretted that you were suffocating Miguel, but when you tried to scooch away and give him some air, the man grunted and pulled your hips closer to him.

You keened again when one of his thick fingers joined the fray as he prepped you. After all the sexual tension, all the self-denial, and all the excitement the night had held, it felt so good to clench around something. He was again methodical with his preparation, allowing you to adjust to one digit before adding another, and another. It couldn’t have made a starker contrast with how he was devouring your sex. Even in the bedroom, Miguel O’Hara was full of contradictions. It didn’t take long for your breaths to become more shallow, for your cries to reach a higher pitch as you climaxed around his hefty fingers. The combination of the penetration and the stimulation of your clit with his mouth was too good to resist. 

You were slightly relieved that Miguel remained nestled between your legs while you rode out your peak. The orgasm he’d given you was much too good to be able to control your facial expressions. 

He at last came up for air once you’d begun floating down from your peak. A primal pride surged through you at the sight of your juices smeared all over his lips and chin. You couldn’t help but smash your mouths together, eager to sample the combination you two made. It was all too easy to get lost in a kiss with Miguel, yet as you plundered his mouth with your tongue, your hand crept back down his groin. 

This time it was Miguel who moaned into your mouth as you returned him to full mast with feather-light, teasing touches. 

“I need to fuck you,” he gasped between kisses. 

“Finally,” you bantered back. 

A growl from Miguel and then he tackled you back flat on the bed. You couldn’t help the giggle – partly from nerves, partly from anticipation – that escaped you at his actions, despite the visage of a hulking, intimidating man hovering over you could be frightening in another context. 

“Do you have protection?” 

You hesitated. You kept a box of condoms in your bedside drawer, but given Miguel’s size, they’d be inadequate. 

“None that would fit you,” you confessed, stealing another glance at his large erection. It was truly a sight to behold. Miguel deflated slightly, fearing penetration was off the table, and usually it would be. You were firmly a two methods of contraception girl, but there was no way you were going to pass up this chance to have sex with Miguel. “Don’t worry Spidey, I’m on the pill.” 

“Gracias a Dios,” he muttered, then wasted no time situating himself between your hips. He drew yet another mewl from you when he slapped the tip of his cock a few times on your clit before lining himself up with your entrance. 

He found you looking at him expectantly. And though Miguel mostly saw desire in your eyes, he could see the glimpse of unease too. He assured you, “I’ll go slow.” 

You nodded, you trusted him after all, but nothing could prepare you for the stretch of when Miguel finally pushed into you. Just the tip was already splitting you apart more than Gene, or any former lover for that matter, ever had. 

“Breathe,” Miguel rasped. You couldn’t tell if he was advising you or himself though. It struck you then that you’d perhaps achieved the damn-near impossible – disarming the notoriously closed-off Miguel O’Hara. He looked beautiful, biting his plush lower lip as he slowly rocked more and more of his huge cock inside of you. 

Your back arched off the mattress of the sensation of being progressively speared on the monster that Miguel called a dick. It was too much and not enough all at once, and your fingers dug into your comforter below you. He tried to distract you from any potential pain, Miguel’s index finger returning to your barely-recovered clit. 

“That’s it, open up for me,” he husked. Your head swam at the mix of his enormous manhood stretching you to your limit and his tender, in-control tone. The realization hit you harder than a punch from an anomaly. In that moment, fear skittered down your throat and pooled into your stomach, resting right above where you two were joined. He’s going to ruin me for other men, isn’t he? 

You couldn’t think any further since not only was Miguel fully seated within you, he had asked you a question. Your eyes glassy and pupils blown, found his, and he repeated himself. “You okay? Can-can I move?”

“Yes,” you gasped. In case your breath affirmation left any room for doubt, you added, “please.”

Another grunt from your lover and Miguel at last began to thrust into you. Your arms flew from the bed to his impossibly wide shoulders, your nails digging into the caramel, taut skin there. You couldn’t tell exactly when it’d happened, lost in the deliciously lewd sounds you were making between the slap of your bodies, your labored breaths, and his determined staccato grunts while Miguel railed you, but your hips had begun to meet his. 

“M-more Miguel,” you urged him as you dragged your fingertips down the expanse of his back. Each of your hands grabbed a fistful of that glorious ass and squeezed to drive home your point. 

“You sure?” 

You moaned. It was as if he couldn’t give it to you hard or faster enough. You used your grip on the globes of his perfect rear to try and force him to increase to the pace and force you needed him to fuck you at. 

Miguel laughed. A dark and stirring sound that made you involuntarily tighten around his girthy length. “Alright bebita, but remember…you asked for this.” 

His words ignited something defiant within you. You pulled Miguel’s head from where it had fallen into the crook of your neck so you could look him in the eyes when you said, “I’m not some pillow princess from Nueva. I’m just as strong as you are, I can go just as hard you can, and I want you to fuck me.” 

Your lover’s eyes darkened at your demand. The growl that ripped from his throat was your only warning before Miguel unleashed the full force of his strength on you. You keened in pleasure as he all but drove you through your bedframe and the wall behind it. Miguel captured your wrists once more and restrained you against the mattress as he absolutely pounded into your pussy. 

His drilling drew another ecstatic cry from your mouth. Miguel glared down at you, his eyes nearly crazed, his face barely lit in the ambient light from the street. It truly was infuriating to you how beautiful this man was. You watched his brow furrowed in concentration – not on his stupid screens for once – and his dark hair shift in time with his thrusts.  Your features contorted in pleasure when Miguel switched from drilling into you to swiveling his hips to stuff you with his cock. His movements were deliberate and slow, he was trying to get as deep inside of you as he could. You almost went cross-eyed at the feel of his bulbous cockhead punching against your cervix. 

The criminal undulations of his hips extracted a little yip from you each time he pistoned into you. He grinned down at you wolfishly. Equal parts indignation and arousal bloomed within you. Also, was the first time you'd ever seen Miguel smile? Not a little half-smirk or a humorless quirk of his lips, but an unabashed smile?

“Want me to back off?” 

Oh, there was no way you were going to take that lying down. Even if Miguel’s pubic bone was perfectly grinding into your clit. 

You let out a growl of your own and summoned all the power in your core muscles to wrestle Miguel back and claim the high ground. Out of breath when you found yourself seated on Miguel’s dick, his large, muscled body prone beneath you, you braced yourself on his rippled abdomen.

“Is the itsy-bitsy Spider-Girl gonna ride my cock?” he taunted you. If Miguel didn’t wear that arrogant, playful smirk so well, you would’ve wiped it from his lips. 

You slid your hands up the length of his chest and leaned over, your face hovering over his. “That depends. Can 2099 handle it?” 

Miguel answered you with an impatient buck of his hips up into your sex. You giggled as you straightened up again, tweaking one of Miguel's nipples as you went. You relished the little shudder it sent through him. “Alright, but remember baby, you asked for this.”

He snorted out a laugh, which you quickly silenced once you began riding Miguel like the stud he was. “Hnnn–shock, bebita.”

“Ah,” you sighed as you bounced on his prick. Before sleeping with Miguel, you had assumed the term “feeling him in your guts” was hyperbole. Not with him. “Fuck, you’re even bigger like this.” 

A large hand traced its way up one of your thighs, now lightly covered with a sheen of sweat, past your sex, split apart by his shaft, to where Miguel’s manhood made the slightest bulge in your lower belly. His smile became wider and even cockier. “It’s good, no?”

You gave him a nonverbal, but enthusiastic, reply. He smacked your ass in satisfaction, “Yeah c’mon, cariño, ride me. Wanna watch your tits bounce.” 

You officially hated Miguel and his big, thick, perfectly sized cock. Where as with other partners you’d smack them right back with a zinger, all you could do was moan again. His naughty, domineering words did nothing but excite you. There was something about him and the way he fucked that made you incapable of doing little else than enthusiastically submitting to him. You leaned back, your fingers clutching onto Miguel’s thick thighs to stability as you changed angles and gave him a better view of your breasts jiggling in time with your motions. 

“Ay, sí bebita,” Miguel’s hands flew to your hips to intensify the frantic mashing of your bodies together, “Ven aquí.”

He gathered your torso in his hulking arms and pulled you closer so that he could coax a breast into his mouth again as you rode him. 

“You gonna come for me Miguel?” you panted.  

“No,” he sounded as winded as you were. “Not yet.”

You clenched around him and snickered. “Are you sure?” 

“¡Coño!” Miguel snarled at the feel of your already blistering, tight pussy suffocating his dick further. “¡No más – basta de esto!”

The vision of your bedroom swam when Miguel lifted you off his pulsing member and dropped you back on your stomach onto the mattress facing the foot of the bed.. You could hear him shifting behind you, and you blindly groped for the lower metal railing of your bedframe’s footboard, only vaguely aware what was to come. 

A grunt from Miguel, and the next thing you knew one of your pillows was stuffed under your lower belly and his massive hands were back on either side of your hips. Your lover didn’t give you any notice before shoving his fat erection back inside of your already tender pussy. 

You shouted at the feeling of his cock stuffing you to the brim once again. Miguel’s hands appeared above your head where you held on for dear life as he impaled you on his prick.

“Ahhh!” you clamored, desperately trying to pull enough air in your lungs to function as Miguel squatted behind you. “I’ve never been so full! Oh God, Miguel, it’s so much…so much…”

Miguel responded with a pleased growl, and merely rammed into you harder. You were peripherally aware of the clanging of the pieces of your metal bed frame clanging together in protest at the vigor of your and Miguel’s coupling, but there were too many sensations overwhelming you at once to focus on one in particular. Not even when the metal groaned and the angle Miguel fucked you at changed did you pay attention to what was actually happening. You merely pushed back onto his cock as much as you could, your fingertips scrabbling into the folds of your comforter. 

Your eyes screwed shut at the barrage of stimuli - the unrelenting stretch of Miguel’s hardness,  his harsh but steadying grip on your hips, the light scratch of fabric beneath you on your skin, the little puff of warmth on the back of your neck from Miguel’s labored exhalations. You were sure this was better than any high any drug could provide. You hadn’t tried many, not even Rapture, and but nothing could top being thoroughly fucked into your mattress by Miguel O’Hara.

Miguel’s dogged grunts morphed into shouts when he at last found his release, spurting rope after rope of hot, creamy cum into your welcoming cunt. You found yourself crying out along with him as he emptied his load, your walls bearing down around his length as you both rode out his high. Miguel flooded your pussy with his seed and before you could even try to adjust to the feeling, he withdrew his cock from you, tearing a quite pathetic-sounding whimper from your mouth. 

Miguel pulled your ass cheeks apart to examine your stretched, puffy pussy leaking his cum. His chest rumbled with primal delight. “Hermosa.”

You’d barely had a chance to catch your breath when Miguel dove back in for more, this time his eager, demanding tongue again invading your channel. You whimpered again, your pitch jumping an octave at Miguel’s needy tongue not only collecting his spunk from your pussy, but flicking the muscle against your clit. He was a man possessed, he ate you out as if he needed you to orgasm one more time for his survival. 

You gave him what he wanted (how could you not?), and once the crest of your pleasure had subsided, you lightly pushed him away from your gaping, abused cunt. 

The first thing you noticed when your wits returned to you was how much closer the ground had become. 

“Oh my God,” you put it together and turned to face your partner, "we broke the bed.”

Miguel arched a brow from where he leant back into the pillows. “Are you surprised?”

You frowned at him.  

“I’ll fix it,” he promised. 

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’m going to…” you trailed off your gaze floating to the bathroom.

“Do your thing.”

“Can…can I get you anything?” 

Miguel glanced down at his crotch. “A towel?” 

You nodded. “Say no more.” 

You ducked into your en-suite, and once you were sure the door was firmly closed behind you, you proceeded to have a freak out to yourself in the mirror. You scarcely believe your own appearance – lips kiss swollen, hair a veritable bird's nest, your mascara smudged into rings around your eyes. Miguel had destroyed you in the best of ways. 

The thought sent a little aftershock of pleasure through you. You didn’t dally any longer — you relieved yourself, washed your hands, ran a brush through your hair and splashed water on your face. After dampening a washcloth for Miguel, you returned to the bedroom, where your bed frame was properly vertical again. 

You glimpsed the glow of Miguel’s distinctive red webs holding the broken metal rods together. The other Spider was reclining on your mattress, a sheet haphazardly tossed over his groin to preserve his modesty. Even so, the sight of him made you go weak in the knees. He really did remind you of some sort of a large cat given the odd grace in which he lounged with, the evidence of his power and strength so poorly hidden under the surface of his skin. 

“Get a new frame and expense it to Spider-HQ,” Miguel's baritone snapped you out of your reverie. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” You tossed him the towel. 

His eyes raked over your naked form. But instead of the desire you’d found there earlier, his gaze was full of concern. “You okay?”

“Yes. Very okay. A little sore but good sore, ya know?” 

“Good,” Miguel busied himself with cleaning up. 

“I mean, what’s the point of having superpowers if you can’t enjoy extra rough sex?” you joked. 

“Yeah, about that,” Miguel refused to meet your eyes. “As um…great as all this was…I think we–it should be a one-time thing.” 

“Um, duh.” He looked up at you hastily and you continued, “Miguel, neither of us are anywhere close to ready or in the right place for a relationship.” 

Your heart disagreed with your words, but you uttered them anyway. Not because it was how you truly felt, but you knew it was what he wanted to hear. Miguel associated any sense of closeness or vulnerability with weakness and danger. Trying to get him to see otherwise was a fool's errand, and it was easier on your heart to convince yourself into concurring with him. 

Oddly, Miguel didn’t seem to relax at your assurances. He looked dubious. “Are you sure?” 

“Oh my God, you are so cocky!” you accused him with a playful slap to the broad, tan chest. “Spare me the fake worry 2099, you may be amazing at sex, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be able to be professional with you at HQ.” 

“Amazing at sex?” Mirguel parroted you with a smirk. 

You slapped him again. “Of course that’s the only part you heard.”

“Sorry but those are very distracting,” he claimed, his gaze focused on your exposed breasts. 

You scoffed and grabbed a pillow to temporarily cover yourself. “Hang on there, Spider-Man. Yes, you are…not terrible at showing a lady a good time, no, you don’t have to worry about me being clingy at work, and yes, I’m sure so stop looking at me like that!” 

You tossed the pillow away and straddled him. “Now I don’t know about you, but it’s only midnight. If this is indeed a one-time thing, I say we make the most of the night and the fact that no one has bothered us with some multiversal emergency yet.” 

Miguel finally let it go, choosing to focus on your very nude body on top of his. His hips moved on their own accord, grinding his cock, already stiffening back up to full mast, against where you were still so nice and stretched for him. 

“Vamos, bebita,” he whispered into your ear. His fingers dug into your sides possessively in a way that almost let you believe he was doing it because you were his. “Wanna fuck you on the ceiling.” 

***

You shouldn't have been surprised that Miguel didn’t stay the night. You were honestly shocked when he collapsed beside you after the hours you’d spent vehemently fucking. Your bed was now held together by a mix of both his and your webs, one of your framed photos on the wall lay shattered on the floor to be dealt with later, and the ceiling now sported a dent that was going to be very difficult to explain to your landlord. 

The memory of Miguel leaving was hazy at best. After so many rounds of deeply satisfying, intensely athletic sex, you felt like you could sleep for a week. Yet the shift and dip of Miguel’s large frame exiting the bed was enough to wake you. You could sort of recall a small flash of light and chirpy voice which must have been Lyla…and you also had a vague memory of him replying in a hushed rumble as if not to wake you up. Or was he telling you he was heading out? Everything jumbled together under the fog of sleep. 

Either way, you had to tell yourself that the sensation of a large hand caressing your face and then tenderly stroking down the sleep-warm skin of your back was a dream. Not for Miguel’s sake, but yours. 

Thanks to super-spider stamina, you only really needed a couple extra shots of espresso to function somewhat normally the following day at headquarters. You were angry at your instinct to avoid Miguel. You both were adults that had an adult, mature conversation that last night’s activities were merely a form of stress release that didn’t mean anything. It was hard to believe however, when you could still feel the phantom shape of him inside of you. 

Besides, it’s not even like you could avoid him if you wanted to. You were scheduled to go over more sequencing today with Miguel, and you were dead set on not blinking first in the post-sex-awkwardness stand-off. 

“Hey, Miguel!” your voice reverberated in the vast space. 

Several agonizing moments later, his platform lowered enough for you two to start conversing. If he was at all bashful about seeing you, the man didn’t show it. 

“Good. You’re here.”

“Yep.” 

Miguel was all business. “I want to go back to the fight you had with your father. Lyla, take us to timestamp 46:90:45.”

Damn, and here you thought you were good at compartmentalizing. You did your best to hide any disappointment from reaching your face, playing along as if he hadn’t seen every crevice of your body the night before. 

***

Days turned into weeks, and you eventually, reluctantly accepted that Miguel had told you the truth that night. What you two had shared was really just a one-time lapse of his frighteningly strong self-restraint. 

You were enjoying a rare night in, parked on the couch, takeout boxes strewn about the coffee table, your favorite trashy reality show playing on your TV. You’d gotten injured taking down a Doc Ock variant a few days ago, and Miguel benched you to recuperate. You were all too happy to take a break, from him and Spider-Girling. Despite your complicated feelings for the man, he assigned a recently displaced Spider, Spider-Woman 1357, to pinch hit for you in your dimension while you healed up. It was the first time since you became a hero you had a day off with peace of mind. 

Just as you started another episode, a tingle raced down your spine. Your spider-sense. Something was about to happen. Out of all the possibilities of what could have followed, a portal opening in your living room and Miguel walking through was the last thing you would’ve guessed. You leapt up from the sofa. 

You instantly regretted your appearance - messy bun, no makeup, and ratty sweatpants. Miguel, as usual, looked immaculate in his skintight spider-suit. 

“Hey.” 

“Is this a booty call?”

“No.” 

“Don’t bullshit me–”

“It’s not, I swear! Coño, I came to check on you.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Why not?”

“Because you could have messaged me on my gizmo. It’s your preferred method of communication after all, ever since the last time you were in my apartment.” 

“May–”

Lyla appeared over his shoulder. “He missed you, that’s all.”

Miguel growled at his AI. “I’m going to sentence you to robot death via spreadsheets.” 

Lyla wasn’t threatened in the slightest. “Thank me later.” She disappeared before Miguel could try and make another retort. 

“You missed me?”

“No,” his denial was instant. “I just…I–”

“This is a booty call!” you crumpled up a napkin and chucked it at his large form. “Go home, Miguel!” 

He didn’t budge. “It’s not a booty call. I…what are you watching?”

“The Realest Housewives of Manhattan. What, don’t judge me!”

Miguel couldn't keep his face straight. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Seeing his eyes crinkle with amusement was infectious. You threw another napkin ball at him and then composed yourself. He wasn’t getting off the hook this easily. “Why are you here? Be honest with me. It’s the very least I deserve.”

“I wanted to see the shocking expensive bed frame you expensed to HQ for myself.” 

“You said I could and you didn't set a spending limit.” A wicked little grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. The bed frame from Restoration Hardware had been your own private form of revenge. “And I’m supposed to believe you wanting to see my bed – my bed that you broke–”

“Hey! We broke the bed–”

“--is not your thinly veiled excuse for seeking another roll in the hay? Enough with goddamn mind games Miguel.” He tried to speak but you pushed on, “I’m tired and this is the last thing I need.”

Miguel sobered. He hung his head. His mouth seemed to fight the words as they left his lips.  “Alright, fine. I missed you.” 

You ignored your heartbeat’s sharp increase and schooled your features to maintain a neutral appearance. “I have some extra Pad Thai if you want.” 

“Sounds good.” 

“So this may not be a booty call, but does anyone other than Lyla know you’re here?”

“No.” 

You nodded. “Come. Sit. I just started the episode where Beverly throws her poodle a forty thousand dollar birthday party.” 

“Nothing you said just now made sense,” Miguel protested, but took a seat on your couch anyway. 

A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed!! Miguel has fully rotted my brain so I thought it only fair to share the horniness. Of course I have more imagined in this AU, fingers crossed I can find more time to write (comments and reblogs and likes help!)

Translations:

Mierda - Shit 

cariño - dear

bebita - baby

Gracias a Dios - Thank God

Ven aquí - Come here

¡Coño! - Damnit!

¡No más – basta de esto! -No more, enough of this!

Hermosa - beautiful

Vamos, bebita - Come on, baby

Taglist: @plethora-of-imagines, @itdobe-liza @absolutelybloodyhopeless @ninebluehearts, @oscarissac2099

#miguel smut #miguel x reader #miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac fanfic #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fanfic #we're not here to f*ck spiders

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℳ𝒶𝓎𝒷𝒶𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝓈𝒾𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇

Chapter 6- just like your father

Series masterlist

Warnings- once again not too much rafe): I’m trying to get more rafe in the next parts, the readers drunk the whole time basically lol

“Now a live update from the sheriffs department.”

“Yeah, after six weeks, the five teens that had been missing from Kildare county have returned, been reunited with their families.” Rafe went closer to the tv, sitting down and staring out. “We’re still waiting for details about their journey. But I’m sure they have quite a tale to tell.”

“We also got word that the father of one of the teens, John B Routledge, who’s been presumed dead for a year now, has also returned live and well. Wonders never cease. Right now, we’re just trying to get those kids settled back into school, with their families. They’ve been through a lot.”

“The teens were down in Kildare island with two other Kildare teens, Sarah Cameron and Y/N Maybank.” The sheriff spoke.

Rafes eyes widened at the mention of you and his sister.

“Sarah’s the daughter of disgraced real estate magnate, Ward Cameron, who confessed to the murder of Peterkin two months ago. y/n is the daughter of Luke Maybank, who is also presumed missing after escaping prison.”

Rafe watched as both of your pictures were put on screen, he recognized yours to be one of you you posted to your instagram, you at the beach. He was in the background, he noticed upon looking closer. Then, a picture of your brother, you and your dad.

You looked at the tv screen, scoffing at the picture they put up when they said your dad’s name. A picture of you, JJ and your dad. It was JJ’s first day of school, you remember that day as if it was your own first day of school.

You gripped the can harder, heavily sighing and leaning back in the chair. Yeah, you’d need more than one drink today.

“When I was there, Rafe was talking about how the cross was his. Not- not Ward’s.” You told them all, hiccuping after and covering your mouth.

“Are you- are you seriously drunk right now?” Pope asked, all of them noticing the way you slurred your words.

“Fuck off. I’m an adult. Can do whatever I want.” You said with a childish giggle.

“It’s like 10 am in the morning.”

“Yo!” Kiara sapped her fingers. “Can we please get back on the topic?”

“Right. And he’s coming into Wilmington tonight at eight. It’s being shipped by train from like… R.. Ra… Raleigh I think? I dunno.”

“You get any other information?” Pope asked.

“Uh, y/n got the cargo number.” Kiara spoke, picking up the paper.

“Okay, well, that’s a start.”

“I mean, they’re definitely fencing that shit off as we speak. So we should probably get a move on.” JJ said, watching you down the rest of the can, and grab a 4th one next to you from your spot on the floor.

“Sarah, you hear from John B?”

“No, I mean, he’s probably off somewhere with his dad. But the problem is they have the Twinkie.”

“Our transportation.”

“I have a car, you know? It’s a hunk of shit, but it works.” You shrugged.

All of them raised their eyebrows at that. “It’s back at Ricky’s. I should probably go talk to him anyways.”

They all were hesitant, you could tell.

“I’m- I’m your only fuckin’ option, so, my car or nothing.”

“She’s right.” JJ told them, already hopping on his bike.

“Ricky?” You shouted when you opened the door. He wasn’t home, you sighed, taking the keys off the counter and stumbling back outside.

“He not home?” JJ asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Nope.” You told him, locking the door. You go into the car, trying to get it started. But it never turns on, you groan in annoyance, fumbling with the keys, and trying again.

“Goddamnit!” You laughed, slamming your fist onto the dashboard and going out.

“It’s… not working.”

“Not working? What’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know! It’s not fucking starting.” You shrugged.

JJ threw his hands up in defeat.

“Alright. That’s okay. We can.. try my dads.” Pope said.

“And I’ll try to see if my parents will.” Kiara spoke.

You ended up going with JJ and Kiara to her parents.

“Jesus, Cleo was not wrong. It does look like the White House.” You mumbled when you entered. You drunkenly stumbled up the steps, JJ rolling his eyes and eventually just helping you up once you almost fell.

“We just found out it’s… it’s gonna be in Wilmington tonight.”

“Okay, and the cross is Popes family-“

“Popes family heirloom.” Kiara finished.

“Shit, this house is nice. Think we could just…?” You told JJ, grabbing an expensive bracelet sitting on the counter and pocketing it.

An idea popped into his head when you did that. If they don’t wanna give them the keys, he can take them.

“He’s alive!” Kiara argued. “JJ.” She turned, the cutlery clanking as he put it away guiltily, getting caught messing with it.

“Do rich people really need to use like… fancy everything? Like fancy plates? Is that necessary?” You mumbled, mostly to yourself as you took another sip.

“A little help?”

He put his hand up, counting off his fingers.

“Wards alive in the Carribean. He’s living off the loot he stole from us, and, uh, yeah, he’s flying across to Wilmington.”

“I was-“ you covered your mouth when you hiccuped again. “With them during the whole thingie. Basically I fell into the water…” you imitated water splashing with your hands.

“And it was like ‘ahhh! Now I’m stuck with my ex boyfriend who’s also crazy on an island, ahh!’ And then we went to some vacation home he has, and I saw Ward and he was like ‘sup, y/n. I’m alive.’ And that’s what happened.” You nodded to yourself, all of them staring at you dumbfounded.

“Give me a break, man.” Kiara’s dad spoke.

“Yeah, you’re right. What do I know? Just saw it with my own two eyes.” You shrugged, rolling your eyes and taking another sip from the bottle. “So did Kiara and JJ but, whatever.”

“I’m skeptical, okay? I am skeptical, y/n as in I think it’s all bullshit. And I think you’ve been led astray, Kiara. And you, JJ, Y/N- let’s get this out in the open.”

“Just take it down a bit-“ her mom tried.

“No. Let me tell you something, you need to understand that I do get it.”

“Sure you do.” You and JJ said in unison, you both laughing at that.

“Do you hear me?”

“Sure. Sure.”

“I like you, guys, and I bet you’re fricking fun to hang with, and to ditch school with, go down to the break, and.. drink beer,” he directed that last sentence to you, eyeing the can in your hand.

“because I was once just like you both. I didn’t think that anything mattered, thought I could make up any bullshit story and these stupid kooks would believe it. But then I learned about hard work.”

“Yeah, well, hard work doesn’t get you shit if you’re like us. I mean- shit, compared to me, you have no clue what hard work is like.” You spat, pointing to yourself. He was getting to close to JJ for your comfort.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “And about what really mattered. All I care about, all that I care about is my daughter. That’s it. And all I know is that she was a lot better off before she met you and your friends.” He said, this sentence directed to JJ.

“Dad, I was never better off!” Kiara argued, you looked at JJ, shaking your head when you saw his reaction. You were gonna kill this guy.

“I was miserable.”

“Miserable? No, no. No!” He shouted, turning to you and JJ.

“No, these pogues have ruined my daughter’s life.” He shouted in your face, you stood in front of JJ, trying your best to protect him.

“Didn’t mean any disrespect, Mr. Carrera.” You told him, turning to usher JJ out.

“Y’all have a good day.” JJ spoke, both of you heading to the door.

“Yeah.”

“What are you doing?” Kiara asked.

“Protecting my daughter.”

“Can we please-“

“Wait a second. Everybody says it, they are liars and thief’s!” Her dad shouted.

You and JJ stopped in your tracks.

“They’re just like their father! I mean, one of them is already drunk off their ass!”

The two words neither of you wanted to hear.

You looked at JJ, who held back tears at the words. You held your own back, throwing the rest of the can, looking at it pour onto the hardwood floor.

You grabbed the keys from the tray, you looked around again, shrugging before grabbing a jacket on the coat hanger, as well as some shoes.

“Wanna talk shit, you’re gonna get bit, right?” You mumbled to yourself, shrugging and following JJ down the steps.

“Is she.. talking with Topper?” Pope asked, all of them turning to you and Topper at the bar.

“He didn’t want me to say anything, but he’s a fucking mess.” Topper said with a laugh, you laughed with him.

“Yeah, well, he was an asshole. So…” you said, taking the shot you ordered.

“Believe me, I know.” He told you,

“Hey, Jayj.”

“What?”

“I bet you Topper has a way to transport the cross.” Pope spoke.

“Actually, Popes right. He does have a rig.”

“No.” Sarah argued.

“Yes.”

“Yes, come on.”

“No, absolutely not.”

“What are we talking about?” You asked them, coming up behind them suddenly.

“Sarah, you already got him whipped anyway, right? So why don’t you just take one for the team?”

“What would John B say?” She said.

“I think John B will completely understand. Think about the circumstances, it’s about treasure.”

“We can handle John B. Just talk to him.”

“Why do I feel like I’m gonna regret this?” Topper spoke, all of you happy when you saw her hug him.

You ended up falling asleep on the boat. Your eyes shut as they all came up with plans.

You can’t even escape him in your dreams. Because when you fell asleep, a fond memory of the two of you popped up in your mind.

“Shit, slow down.” He laughed, grabbing onto your hand as you ran down, pushing past people and making your way down straight to the floor.

“Can’t believe I let you drag me into this shit.” He said with a laugh when the band came on stage and cheers erupted.

He watched you while you paid close attention to the band. And when your guys song came on, he was told to sing with you, he hesitated but eventually did.

“Got the music in you, baby. Tell me why. You've been locked in here forever. And you just can't say goodbye. Your lips, my lips. Apocalypse.”

You both sung to each other, you staring at him with the most love and adoration he’s ever seen, and him staring at you with the most love anyone’s ever seen him have.

You both leaned in, but before your lips connected…

You woke up, quickly sitting up and groaning, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

“Jesus. Think I drunk too much earlier. I’m going crazy.” You told them, all of them turning to look at you now.

Taglist

@cassie0sstuff @rafesgiirl @fals3-g0d @tiaamberxx @callsignwidow @saintnourah

#rafe cameron x you #rafe fluff #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe x reader #jj obx #rafe obx #obx series #obx x reader #obx fanfiction

[importantchaosgiver]

Where Loyalties Lie:

To The King

Summary: (Y/N) can't stay hidden for long. And when she is taken to the king, she gets an unexpected turn of events...

Warnings: Canon typical swearing, mentions of nudity

******

Two days. Baelon, Aemon and the guards hadn't found (Y/N) for two days. They had asked and most did say they've seen a girl of her description, but most didn't know about her or just saw her in passing. This girl was smart and quick. Aemon admired the child for her skill at such a young age. Being able to hide from a king's order wasn't something most people could do, especially when in the heart of the city. Baelon then went to a fruit stall. "Have you seen a young girl around this tall with (h/c) hair by any chance?" Baelon asked for the umpteenth time that day. He was quickly growing tired of searching, but Jaehaerys did ask of it. "Oh, yes. I do, my prince. She's the young lass who helps us set up from time to time," the man said. "Yes, she a lovely little girl," the woman added. Baelon perked up as Aemon walked over. "What's her name?" Aemon queried, finally glad they were getting somewhere. "Oh, I am sorry, my prince. That isn't something we know. But you can find her mother on the Street of Silk. The woman you'll need to look for is (M/N)," the woman explained. "She's a whore's daughter?" Baelon muttered to Aemon as they gave thanks to the vendors and began walking. "And a bastard no doubt. This girl gets more and more intriguing," Aemon said quietly in return.

When they came to the Street of Silk and to the brothels, it was noticeably more quiet during the day than how it was at night. So, they went from building to building, having to endure the working ladies in skimpy dresses or nothing at all. Until, finally, they got somewhere. "If you're looking for (M/N) go to the farthest room down that corridor," a woman explained, giving the two princes sultry looks, only wearing a mesh skirt. They nodded and began walking in the given direction, avoiding the people enjoying their time. When they got to said door, it was noticeably more isolated as they entered without knocking. The woman quickly stood up, looking at them as she realised she was in the presence of Targaryen royalty. "(M/N)?" Aemon asked. "Yeah. How can I help you?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, wearing a sheer shift. "We're not looking for some time. We are looking for whom we've been told is your daughter," Aemon said. That got (M/N)'s attention quickly. "What's she done?" she whispered. "Nothing wrong. Although, the king is asking she be brought forth," Baelon said, eyeing her up and down. "Since when did whores care about their children?" he asked. (M/N) quickly put on some more modest clothing. "She's a child. She doesn't deserve to know my occupation. All she knows is that she's a bastard. But she doesn't let that stop her," she said firmly. "Aye," Baelon muttered. When they left, a couple of guards followed as (M/N) lead them out of the Street of Silk.

When they came to a small house, they went inside. There was (Y/N) holding a book with an elderly man pointing at words. They stopped and looked up. (Y/N) gulped upon seeing the princes. She had been found. "(Y/N), the princes would like to talk to you," (M/N) said gently. "Please, don't run. I would not like to repeat the other day," Aemon said calmly, seeing her stand up. "The king would like to see you, lass," Baelon said, bending down to her height. "I honestly meant no harm," (Y/N) whispered meekly. "I know. Now, come along, child," he said, the guards stepping forward. Her mother watched in worry as (Y/N) was lead from her home, two guards either side of her, a hand each on her shoulder just in case she decided to run.

She felt her stomach churn in anxiety, her throat tighten as it became difficult to swallow. She wrung her hands nervously as she was walked to the gates and into the Red Keep. It was even bigger closer up. She was lead through many confusing twists and turns until she was lead to two large doors. They opened and (Y/N) felt like her legs were about to give way. The entire court was there. The princes went in as the guards gently walked her inside. The men and women of court whispered and muttered. This girl saved Prince Viserys? This bastard, grubby common girl? When the guards stopped, she stopped and lifted her gaze. Her eyes found King Jaehaerys on the famed Iron Throne. It looked even more intimidating now that she stood before it. It's many blades forged by dragonfire and the blades of Aegon the Conqueror's enemies. She had seen paintings of the throne, but it didn't prepare her to be stood before it.

Jaehaerys recognised (Y/N) from the brief time he saw her in the Dragonpit. He stood up from the throne and walked down to stand in front of her. The guards let go of her shoulders and stepped back. (Y/N) gave a curtsy in respect of the king who gazed down at her with kindness. "You saved my grandson, little one. I thank you," he said gently. "I-I... there is no need to thank me. I only did what I thought was right. I only meant to help and protect," she whispered. Almost so quiet, no one heard it. It made Jaehaerys chuckle softly as her bent down to her height. "You are a shy one. But, I saw a pure courage in your eyes. Courage and bravery I have not seen in years, little one. What's your name?" Jaehaerys asked softly. "(Y/N) Waters, your grace," she muttered. "Born out of wedlock," he whispered. Baelon muttered into his ear about her mother too. Jaehaerys nodded in understanding. Then, he gently took (Y/N)'s hand. She lifted her head in shock and Jaehaerys managed to see her eyes and see into her soul. And he could tell, her heart was pure. Despite the scrutiny she would face as a bastard child, her heart was true and pure, untainted. He saw the truth in her eyes of (e/c) and knew she was something rare. He then thought back to a dream he had as a young man.

He dreamt of a woman with (h/c) hair wearing a white cloak, bearing the sigil of House Targaryen, holding a sword of Valyrian steel. The woman he dreamt of had been stood on the walls to the city, her sword soaked in blood, a cut along her face. He remembered how the sun shone behind her as if the gods wanted it. Jaehaerys called this dream, the White Saviour. Because his dream predicted that a warrior would protect the realm. And the courage, truth and purity he saw in the eyes of the woman in his dream was the same as what he saw in this child.

Jaehaerys straightened up and looked at the court. "I have decided that (Y/N) Waters shall be honoured for saving my grandson. It is my wish, my will and my order that she is to be trained in the ways of a knight," he announced. Everyone gasped. Even (Y/N) was stunned. She becoming a knight?! Trained as one?! But, she was a girl! All around the court, people had different reactions. Baelon and Aemon was surprised, but actually thought it made some form of sense, Viserys was shocked, Daemon found it hilarious that a girl would become a knight and -ultimately- fail, Jocelyn and Rhaenys felt pride that a girl could have the opportunity to prove the norm wrong and somewhere, in the corner of the throne room, Otto Hightower narrowed his eyes at the girl. This wasn't coincidental. Jaehaerys knew something they all didn't. It was clear in the Old King's eyes. That twinkle... something he knew would affect the realm for all eternity...

******

Okay, I'll admit, I've been sitting on this idea for a while. So I don't know how many regular updates there will be, but I'm really enjoying writing this. I hope you enjoy it too.

#alicent hightower #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #otto hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #viserys targaryen #viserys x reader #fantasy #westeros #king jaehaerys #baelon targaryen #aemond targaryen #jocelyn baratheon #rhaenys targaryen #asoiaf

[starbaby-7]

Long Live Abigail Hobbs!

In honor of our best girl I’m sharing my favorite Abigail Hobbs coded songs because she’s quite literally the ghost haunting me. No one deserved her.

Killer- Phoebe Bridgers

“Sometimes I think I’m a killer. I scared you in your house, I even scared myself talking about Dahmer on your couch.”

“I am sick of the chase, but I’m hungry for blood. And there’s nothing I can do.”

Family Tree- Ethel Cain

“I’m just a child but I’m not above violence.”

“Christ forgive these bones in hiding and oh and the bones I’m about to leave.”

Sun-Bleached Flies - Ethel Cain

“God loves you but not enough to save you.”

“But I always knew that in the end no one was coming to save me so I just prayed, and I keep praying and praying. If it’s meant to be then it will be.”

Strangers- Ethel Cain

“I tried to be good, am I no good? With my memory restricted to a Polaroid in evidence.”

“Found you just to tell you I made it real far. And I never blamed you for loving me the way that you did.”

“Am I turning in your stomach? Am I making you feel sick?”

Bite the Hand- Boygenius

“Who do you think you are? Who do you think I am? Maybe I’m afraid of you?”

“I can’t love you how you want me to.”

Vienna (in Memoriam) - the army, the navy

Enough said.

Smother - Daughter

“In the darkness I will meet my creators and they will all tell me I’m a suffocator.”

“Sometimes I wish I had stayed in my mother, never to come out.”

Im Right Here - Theodore Shapiro

The humming and melody feel like what Abigail’s life with Will might have been had they been in WolfTrap instead.

House Song- Searows

“Something is rotten inside me, I have to find it and cut it out.”

Hard Times- Ethel Cain

“Tell me a story about how it ends where you’re still the good guy I make pretend cause I hate this story where happiness ends and dies with you.”

“I thought good guys got to be happy? I’m not happy. I am poison in the water and unhappy. A little girl who needs her daddy real bad.”

“I’m tired of you still tied to me.”

OKAY THATS ALL FOR NOW. Abigail is one of my favorite characters ever and I think her complexity should be observed more. She was a survivor and perceived in the light of those around her and never as she truly was and I mourn her daily. I think about how she deserved to go to school abroad and never want for anything but in the end was a playing pawn in a game between two men who were themselves too terrified and confused to make sense of each other much less her as an independent.

IF YOU WANT MORE HERES MY PLAYLIST FOR HER

#hannibal #hannibalnbc #save abigail hobbs #Abigail Hobbs #will graham #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen #hannibal lecter #will loves hannibal #hannibal and will #hannigram #hannibal and Abigail #garret jacob hobbs #playlist #character study #boygenius #Ethel Cain #nbc hannibal #Spotify

[6rookie-writer0110]

This is happening

Noah Morgan x Male Reader

Request - Could you do Noah Morgan x male!reader where y/n Lesister is William's son and Nick does not exist in this story. For this story, Noah is 18 years old, and y/n is 20. In this story, "My Fault" and Marvel's Spider-Man (insomniac) are set in the same universe. When y/n was 18, he went on a trip to New York, where his DNA was spliced with a spider. Basically, he has miguel o'hara powers, but he gets spider sense.

As a kid, you never knew who is your mother. You asked your father about her but he won't tell you, he would tell you to change the subject. You don't have a good relationship with your father, and you don't care anymore about trying to fix the relationship. He is cold toward you and he doesn't take the time to get to know you. You don’t like his wife Rafaella, she doesn't like you. But you do get along with Maggie your little step-sister, Rafaella barely pays attention to her own daughter and you hate that. Your father is rich but he or Rafaella don't buy medication for Maggie, but you do.

You get a text from your manager and you start to read it. He helps you get the big fights and a bigger pay, and you pay him.

Tyler- big fight tonight at 12 am. I signed you up

You- I will be there.

“Who are you texting?” Noah asked.

“You shouldn't be nosy,” You said.

She rolled her eyes at you.

“Same answer, when I ask you about the black eye?” Noah asked.

“Yes,” You said.

“You always come back with bruises, Y/N. And don't say you got mugged” Noah said.

“That’s why I said don't be nosy,” You said.

You grabbed your duffle bag and she started to follow you. Then Maggie runs up to you

“Can I come?” Maggie asked.

“Not today. How about tomorrow we go to the park?” You said.

“That’s fine” Maggie smiled.

“Watch her,” You said.

Noah watched you leave and you got in your car. Rafaella used to spend time with her daughters but that changed when they moved into the mansion. Noah called her friend to watch Maggie and the friend agreed. Noah gets an Uber and she tracks your location, she doesn't recognize the area. You have been acting strange and Noah wants to know why. She arrived at the location and kept looking, she found the location. She tried to figure out how to get in then she saw strangers go inside and pay to get in.

You are in the locker room, you are sitting on the bench. Then Peter walks in and you are surprised to see him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“I came to see you fight. Ronnie got the biggest guy to fight you and make sure you are following the rules,” Peter said.

“I know, With great power comes great responsibility. Ronnie is always trying to make me lose to one of his fighters” You said.

“You got this, Y/N,” Peter said.

You were in New York City, on vacation. Unexpectedly you got bit by a spider while riding the train. The next night, you felt your body change then you got powers. You started to freak out and you didn't know who to call for help. You noticed that you got fangs and you freaked out even more. While in New York, you were on the roof trying to figure out your powers. Peter had on his suit and he noticed you, and he started to help you out. Slowly he became

Your mentor helped you get the name Crimson Spider. Only Peter knows that you have powers and you want to keep it like that. Peter doesn't like it when you do fight club matches. He knows that you're stubborn and won't stop. He always reminds you to hold back your powers or you will end up killing someone. He knows about your family history and you know about his.

“Thanks. But why are you really here?” You said.

He sits down next to you.

“Y/N, I’m getting old and I won't be Spiderman for long. But you won't get rid of me I’m still your mentor” Peter said.

“Damn, I thought I would get rid of you” You joked.

“Hahaha, so funny that made my stomach hurt,” Peter said.

You and Peter laughed. You leave the locker and head to the ring and Peter is standing with the crowd. The bell rang, and now you started to fight the huge guy. Noah is in shock that you are in the cage fighting. The guy punched you in the face and you fell, he was about to get on top to punch you again but you moved out of the way. You noticed Noah in the crowd then he pushed agsnit the cage. You start to punch him in the back but he doesn't back away. You wrapped your arms around his torso and used your super strength to pick him up, then you slammed him onto the mat. Everyone is in shock and he passes out, the referee picks up your wrist and you win. Ronnie is angry that he lost the bet and Noah is in shock about your strength.

You went to the locker room and you got paid. You quickly change your clothes and leave the locker room, you walk towards Noah and grab her arm.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

“Why are you here fighting?” Noah asked.

“You shouldn't be here, let's go now!” You said angrily.

You dragged her out of the place then she pushed you.

“Y/N, why are you here tell me the truth,” Noah said.

“Fine. I fight to get money so I can pay for Maggie’s medication and that's the only reason. You know William doesn't care about anyone, he won't even buy her medication” You said.

She knows that you don't call him ‘dad’ and you call him by his first name.

“That explains the bruises and the black eye,” Noah said.

“Yeah. Let's go home” You said.

“We have to pick up Maggie at Maria’s house. I didn't know that you are strong, Y/N” Noah said.

“Now you know,” You said.

She is still impressed with what you did in the cage. You start to drive and she looks at you then looks away. Now, she starts to ask questions about the fight.

————

You walk by your father’s office and you hear him yelling over the phone. He has a gambling problem and you walked away. You leave the house and you meet up with Peter. You have on your new suit and Peter is teaching you how to swing faster, you are fast but you want to go faster. You and Peter are jumping off buildings and starting to swing faster. He tells you how to move your body.

“I almost had it,” You said.

You almost lost your grip but you quickly landed on the side of the building. Then Peter stands next to you but he is standing sideways.

“Show off,” You said.

“It‘s called skills. Now let's try again and don't be lazy,” Peter said.

“I’m not lazy,” You said.

“Let’s find out,” Peter said.

You and Peter start to swing again. Noah went shopping and you spotted her, you are standing on the top of a fire escape. A theif had a knife and wanted to steal Noah’s wallet. You jumped off the fire escape and used your web to get the knife. Then you double-kicked the theif towards the dumpster.

“Noah, are you okay?” You asked.

“Thanks. But how did you know my name?” Noah asked.

“I-I know everything,” You said.

You left and Noah is feeling speechless. A bit later, when Noah went home she rushed to your bedroom. Then she started to tell you how she met Crimson Spider and you pretended to be shocked, while she was talking you noticed how she put her hands on your forearm. But you didn't move your arm away, you just listened to her.

✫ ✯ ✫ ✯

Noah sees you spending time with Maggie, you two are playing in the pool. Maggie is having fun and you are making her laugh. She is checking you out, she developed feelings for you and she is trying hard to deny it. She isn't feeling happy with her boyfriend. She goes to the backyard and she sits on the chair, you and Maggie told her to get in the water but she said no.

William lost money in debt now Ronnie wants his money. William keeps avoiding him and Ronnie is feeling angry, he threatens William to pay or else. But William is stubborn and laughs and says he isn't scared. Ronnie knows now what to do and he ends the call, now William starts to drink.

You are alone in the locker room getting ready for a fight. Noah walked into the locker room and you are speechless.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I came to see you fight,” Noah said.

“Go home now,” You said.

“I want to see you fight again. I didn't tell my mom or William” Noah said.

“I know. But I don't want anyone to harass you. I thought you went on a date with Mario” You said.

“We broke up,” Noah said.

“Oh. Well, I never liked him” You said.

“Yeah, I know I see the way you look at him,” Noah said.

You and Noah are standing really close to each other. You feel her lips and she starts to kiss you then you start to kiss her back. She wraps her arms around you and you pull her closer.

“Y/N” Noah whispered.

“You kissed me first,” You said.

You kiss her back and she doesn't stop you. After the kiss, Noah stood in the crowd and watched you fight. She didn't know that you are a skilled fighter and she does cheer for you. You won the fight with a knockout and some people cheered for you.

You and Noah are in the parking lot. Again, you kiss her on the lips and she has her back against the brick wall. You start to kiss her neck and you raise her dress semi up and she lets out a small moan. Then she stares into your eyes and you touch her lip with your thumb. You and Noah go home and you go to check up on Maggie and she is still sleeping. Then you go to your bedroom and Noah is in her bedroom, she can't stop thinking about the kiss.

———

You and Noah are in the kitchen. She has her hand on your back then she grabs your shirt and she starts to kiss you. You wrap your arms around her and she starts to smile. William and Raffaella saw you and Noah kiss each other, they are angry.

“William, we have to do something about this fast” Raffaella said.

“I know. I will think of something, he won't embarrass me like this” William angrily said.

——-

Days Later… Ronnie gave one final chance for William to pay. But he didn't take the chance, Ronnie went to kidnap Noah and then sent him a picture of her tied up in a chair. Maggie told you that she heard William and Raffaella talk about Noah getting kidnapped and they couldn't call the cops. You promised her that you would make everything okay.

You went to your bedroom and started to put on the suit. You leave through the window and You go find Noah. You know where Ronnie usually hangs out and you rushed to his place.

“Boss, it's Crimson Spider,” He said.

“Kill him then kill the girl,” Ronnie said.

You start to dodge the bullets then you start to beat them up. Then you run towards Ronnie and you dodge the bullet, you kick the gun out of his hand. Then he grabbed the knife from his pocket and tried to stab you. But you grabbed his wrist and snapped it in half and he dropped the knife and he started to scream. You started to punch him in the face hard and he started to bleed out fast. You take out all your anger on him and you break his nose and jaw. You were close to killing him then you remember what Peter said about killing. You believe he doesn't deserve mercy then you pull up your mask up to your nose and grabbed his wrist and bite it, then venom enters his body. He starts to cough, you have paralytic venom fangs, and Ronnie slowly dies. You run towards Noah and you start to untie her and she isn't hurt. You take off your mask and she is stunned

“You… you are Crimson Spider!?” Noah yelled.

“Yeah, I will explain later. But are you okay? Did they hurt you?” You said.

“I’m fine, they just tied me to the chair. Do they know?” Noah said

“No one knows and you can't tell anyone,” You said.

“I promise I won't tell anyone,” Noah said.

She hugged you tight and you hugged her back. You left the building and the police arrived Noah didn't tell them your secret and they took her home. You start to swing back home

✫ ✯ ✫ ✯

William punched you in the face once you got home. You started to fight him but you did hold back your strength and you punched him in the stomach.

“What the hell!?” You yelled.

“We know about your dirty secret with Noah. I’m not going to let you two embarrass us like this!” William yelled.

“You are the embarrassment! You are not a man, you are a coward” You yelled.

“What secret?” Noah asked.

“We saw you and Y/N kiss each other. I’m disappointed in you, Noah, and this will end now” Raffaella said.

“I love him,” Noah said.

“This will end and I don't care how it ends!” William yelled.

You and Noah left the mansion with Maggie when William and Raffaella were in the home office talking. You lied to Maggie about having a fun trip to New York. You called your friend who is a pilot and he agreed to fly to New York. Hours later, William and Raffaella couldn't find you or Noah. William punched the wall and he is extremely angry.

In New York, you have an apartment in Soho that your father doesn't know. You bought take-out food and medicine for them.

“Since when did you get this place?” Noah asked.

“About two years ago. I live here alone and no one knows about this place, I have it under a fake name. Did you mean that you love me?” You said.

“Yeah, I did mean it Y/N,” Noah said.

“I have never been in love before,” You said.

“Me either. I’m scared” Noah said.

“I promise I will protect you and Maggie,” You said.

You hug her and gently rub her back. Later, when Noah and Maggie went to sleep you put on the suit, and you saved a few people around the city. You go back home and you change into your pajamas.

“I didn't mean to wake you up,” You said.

“You didn't. How did this happen? The powers and the suit” Noah said.

“It’s a long story,” You said.

“Tell me,” Noah said.

You start from the beginning of how everything started.

#Noah Morgan x male reader #Noah Morgan x reader #Noah Morgan imagine #x male reader #male!reader #male reader

[samithedaydreamer]

I just... I can't

#found out last night that my brother is dating the person who emotionally abused and gaslit me from childhood to early teenhood again #and i can't do it again i just I'm terrified of my family especially my mother allowing her back in to the family again you know #like it destroyed me and now I'm feeling paranoid and panicky like are my family going to ignore it all over again? #are they gonna let her hurt me again? Are they gonna hurt me with their decisions again? #I can't fall into that kind of depression again I won't survive it a second time #am i gonna be on my own again? Am I gonna have to live in agony again #i deserve better than this #that little girl deserved better than that. I was just a kid! God fucking damn it! I deserved protection #you said she was like a daughter to you... i AM your daughter #why didn't anyone protect me... #my life

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

Look, we thought pairing my LDB up with freaking Yrsarald Thrice-Pierced instead of Ulfric would be funny.

It wasn't. It was just sad.

As I told my dear sweet @elder-dragon-reposes, it's one thing for one of Ulfric's followers clear across Skyrim to get heart eyes for Ulfric's girlfriendsword arm, but it's another matter entirely if it's one of his generals. In his own city.

Yrsarald remembers the Dragonborn from when she came to call Ulfric to the Greybeards' council. He remembers that she was soft-spoken and adamant about the World-Eater. She's hopeful and compassionate, and that stands out to him, even if she is an elf.

Ulfric doesn't seem to mind her ancestry, so Yrsarald elects to ignore it untilunless it becomes a problem.

News comes that Alduin has been banished, and the Dragonborn is about Skyrim, helping people. It's . . . nice that the foreign half-elf seems to care so much for the well-being of Skyrim and her people. Yrsarald keeps tabs on her through the informants and spy networks. It's a matter of security if the Dragonborn turns traitor to Skyrim and helps the blasted Thalmor. Galmar isn't keeping up with it, so for Ulfric and the Stormcloaks' sake, Yrsarald is.

But all he hears are good things. She wins admiration everywhere she goes, but she doesn't belong anywhere. Balgruuf the Greater is trying to tie the Dragonborn to Whiterun, but she's as flighty as Kyne's winds. Somewhere in there, Yrsarald learns her name is Leara Ormand and she's from HIgh Rock. She grew up on magic and chivalry. She probably sees life as a fairy tale. He may disdain her for it.

But then she comes to Windhelm. They've had troubles of their own, being stretched between the care of the city and fighting a war. And she solves problems. He hears she's investigating the serial killer in town . . .

. . .then finds the Butcher, and she's hurt? Ulfric is concerned, but Yrsarald finds himself livid. He cannot see his Jarl's worry for his own shame that their hero came to help them, and all she got in return was a bleeding wound and permafrost on her skin.

Imagine being so in love with an otherwise mythic figure, a celebrity, that you can't see that your friend, your brother, is also in love with her. How can you see it when you aren't ready to admit your own feelings?

Leara is renting a room at Candlehearth when Yrsarald decides he needs to pay his respects to her. She is surprised when he meets her near dinner. He has never seen a woman so precisely featured before. She's not in armor (he's only seen her in silver plate); her hair is down (curling in blood rose vines) and she's bundled in a cornflower blue dress (it's loose to accommodate her bandages). He wants to sit down and talk to her, but he doesn't. He thanks her, though, and she smiles. He stops by the counter later to make sure Elda sends her a dessert .

"But don't bother her with who it's from." "Well if that's how you choose to show your appreciation."

Yrsarald buys Leara sweets after that. She doesn't know it's him. She knows it's someone who appreciates her service and feels bad about her getting hurt, but Elda won't crack. Drat the woman.

Leara wonders if Ulfric is gifting her the sweets. She wants to hope it's Ulfric. She wants their past to be past and for her to appreciate everything she continues to do not for him, but to his benefit; she wasn't drawn in by his smile or anything. Who else would it be if not him? Ralof? He's not in town. General Stone-Fist didn't seem too bothered about her.

Leara's still healing. She's not bedridden or anything, but she's not fit to go beyond the city gates where there are bandits and dragons and necromancers (oh my!), so she decides that visiting the court wizard might be a fruitful investment of her time. She shuffles off to the Palace of the Kings. She runs into Jorleif right off and, on telling him she'd like to visit the court wizard, he's ready to take her to Wuunferth because she's been to see him before, and after all, she is the Dragonborn.

And this is that delightful moment when fate can swing either way because if Ulfric shows up and offers to walk Leara, that's all she wrote. Yrsarald's lost his chance because now that soft smile from Candlehearth is directed at the Jarl, not him, and Yrsarald will never get it back.

But maybe, just maybe, if Yrsarald gets to Leara before Ulfric does, if he captures her attention in conversation, maybe she'll look at him.

For a general commanding troops, it's terribly hard to be brave before a woman.

He would ask her how she's healing from the attack, and Leara would sigh, tired with herself but patient in her speech, because she's healing but she feels like she's letting the people down. And the tips of her ears might turn pink (Yrsarald didn't know elf ears did that) because Leara didn't mean to be that candid and trouble him – but Yrsarald is tripping over himself to tell her that she's done more for Skyrim than anyone (why is his neck red?) and it's reasonable for her to convalesce after an injury.

"Rest and eat apple tarts." ". . . how did you know I was eating apple tarts?"

Yrsarald coughs (he did not mean to tell her that). Leara is staring at him. They're at Wuunferth's quarters. She blinks at him before thanking him for guiding her through the palace. Then she's gone, and Yrsarald is kicking himself for being an idiot.

He's smitten.

Soon (too soon) Leara has healed from her injury and she's at the palace again, but this time she's offering to help Ulfric negotiate a permanent peace between both sides. Ulfric's seen Leara at the table, he knows what she can do. Galmar is more skeptical, but when Ulfric looks to Yrsarald for his opinion (and Leara's too-blue winter deep eyes follow) he says to let her have at it.

Leara needs to be brought up on the Stormcloaks holdings and Ulfric says he'll help her, but then Galmar needs him for something else and Yrsarald (does NOTdoes) jumps at the chance to help the Dragonborn. She's attentive and quiet, and asks the right questions about supplies and movements. And Yrsarald realizes as he's talking to her that Leara has been in a war before.

"Were you in the Great War?"

The stiffening of her shoulders is almost imperceptible. He'd have missed it if he weren't watching her so intently.

"Yes."

Her reply is measured. She does not lie.

"Legion?"

Because everyone was in the Legion then. Back when it fought for Skyrim. He wouldn't fault her if she was . . . why is her face sour? Her mouth is pinched.

"It doesn't matter–" "It does."

Why does it matter? He wonders, why is he pressing?

Her eyes are wide. So wide and too-blue.

Leara looks ill.

And then he knows.

He knew from the beginning she couldn't be trusted. She was an elf. All elves scurried back to the Thalmor in the end. She was here for that blasted Thalmor "ambassador" – she would betray Ulfric and the sons of Skyrim to their deaths!

There's a breathless scream.

Yrsarald doesn't realize until then that he has her on the ground. She's so small and too precisely featured. Her eyes are too blue. She's a traitor, a liar, a fraud–

The Dragonborn does not care for Skyrim.

"Yrsarald, please–"

Yrsarald growls.

Why is she crying? Doesn't she realize what she's doing to Skyrim? – Done to him? All this time and Yrsarald realizes he let Leara lure him into a fairy tale, only for her to shatter it with frigid reality when he thinks, when he thinks . . .

He might love her.

But elves can't love.

"You will rue the day you stepped foot in Skyrim, elf!"

She's sobbing. If she were really a true Dragonborn, she'd try and Shout him off, but Yrsarald wonders if she lied about that, too. High Elf illusions.

"Yrsa–" "What's going–?!"

Then Yrsarald is yanked back forcibly. Galmar is there. And Ralof. And Ulfric.

Ulfric is on the floor with her. Kneeling beside her as she gasps and tears turn her white gold face into wet porcelain. Kneeling beside her as if the elf wasn't going to sell Ulfric and everything they'd worked for to the Thalmor!

Yrsarald strains against Galmar and Ralof. He grits his teeth.

"She's Thalmor!"

Galmar stills. Ralof pales. Ulfric's head is bowed. She isn't making any noise but she struggles to breathe and it's tearing Yrsarald apart and enraging him all at once.

"I know."

And with those words, Yrsarald questions everything he ever knew about Ulfric Stormcloak. Ulfric knew she was a Thalmor spy? Was he coming to stop her – but . . .

Then Ulfric is lifting Leara from the ground, helping her to her feet, and it's too gentle for a King about to arrest an enemy.

Her hands are grasping Ulfric's arm, her eyes wide. Ulfric's face is drawn.

"We will discuss this later."

And he walks out with her. And the elf is free. And Yrsarald doesn't understand.

And then Galmar speaks:

"What in Oblivion did you do?!"

Yrsarald . . . doesn't know anymore.

What he learns later is more than he could stomach. Leara was a member of the Thalmor and she was a member of the Blades before that, and during the war, she smuggled information from the Dominion to the Blades intelligence networks and then defected while smuggling Ulfric Stormcloak from captivity.

He's nauseous when Ralof tells him this. Respectful Ralof – save this time there's steel in his eyes and disdain in his voice.

Yrsarald realizes he deserves that.

Later, when she finds him at Candlehearth, drinking his weight in ale, he realizes he does not deserve the understanding and forgiveness and the self-loathing in her face.

"I know why you did what you did. I can't fault you for it, not when I could've sold your Jarl and cause out to the Dominion. But I–"

Leara's eyes trail off.

"I'm sorry."

He chokes out the words. Her eyes slip back. She was far away.

"I think it's for the best if we're not alone together anymore."

Then she's gone.

Yrsarald buys another round.

The next day, Galmar says Ulfric wants him in the Pale. Far away from the Dragonborn goes unspoken between them.

Yrsarald goes. Ulfric's face is hard when he bids Yrsarald goodbye. The Jarl is not as easily forgiving as the Dragonborn.

Yrsarald is in the Pale when, a month later, news comes that the Dragonborn is handling an armistice in Whiterun. Skyrim divided. What was she thinking? She's thinking for Skyrim, Yrsarald realizes. That's all she's thought about this entire time.

It's a year before he returns to the Eastern capital of Windhelm, and only then, it's because the High King is getting married.

Yrsarald sees her. He doesn't stay long after that.

After all, Ulfric would protect her. Had protected her. Even from Yrsarald.

He could live with that.

#thrice pierced/roseblade hurts actually like i am LEGIT hurt #i mean i actually made my fren CRY 😭 #YRSARALD! SHE WAS ALMOST THERE AND THEN YOU THREW HER ON THE GROUND AND SCREAMED IN HER FACE #if he hadn't been an idiot they would've held hands #Or rather #his hand would've been on the table and she'd have put hers on his and done this cute quirky thing with her mouth and he'd have stared at i #skyrim #me at Yrsarald: Marny could've been YOUR SON! Kyneiren could've been YOUR DAUGHTER! You could've had ICE CREAM with Leara all the time! #BUT YOU HAD TO GO AND CHOKE HER ON THE FLOOR AND MAKE HER CRY #You could've bought her MORE apple tarts and she would've actually thanked YOU instead of thinking they came from some other guy! #but ulfric really said check mate and got the firl #yrsarald you dumb LOSER #anyway #rosecloak #FOREVER #oc: leara roseblade #ulfric stormcloak #yrsarald thrice pierced #windhelm #tes #the elder scrolls #ralof #galmar stone fist #last dragonborn #mod post #the ship name is very telling #pierced rose

[hauntingblue]

"Would you like me to translate that? Or was it for me?" The show's thesis

#my theory is that by surrendering toranaga and everyone important ends up inside osaka and so do the weapons #penetrating osaka was the problem he said would make them lose. so now if they are inside 🤷🏻‍♀️ they can win #this is my design #cockroaches are cacarooch????? AJSHAKAJAKA #kakarooch??? closer to cucaracha idk where the cock came from to the englishmen #he's making her tea..... these intimate scenes go off so hard. now can he respect her and like value her as a person individually of #whose daughter she is??? the act is valued but lets take things along #YEAAAAH!! YOU TELL HIM!!!!! the bow right after to leave akdhaksjakw thats the diva i want #cry about it!! BOOHOO #anjin turning around omg.... he is ashamed of them i know akdjaksn #the cortisans beside the church akdhaksjdks #toranaga will make a little joke before he goes #NOOOOOO OLD MAN BREAK UP NOOOÒO #buntaro is going to kill toranaga.... he is fed up and his father wont let him kill himself his wife wont kill herself with him... #this people's 'i am going to kill myelf in front of you to change the trajectory of your life' game is STRONG #WHAT IS HE SO ANGRY ABOUT??? my guy!!!! #SEE HOW HE IS FAKING IT!!! HE WILL ATTACK!!! aure of my firts tag now lmao #thanking his son's ashes for some extra time.... insane #talking tag #watching shogun #YES I AM LIVE POSTING EVEN IF I SAID I WOULDNT!! THESE LAST EPISODES ARE TOO GOOD!! I HAVE THOTS!!