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#I feel like spreading chaos in this very moment of time
scarletts-scribbles · 3 months
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Sleeping Beauty
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⁀➷ Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader
⁀➷ Notes: Hey! I am so sorry this took so long! Things got busy and life was in the way so enjoy an almost 4k long saga of pure Nat fluff as a humble apology <3 (excuse editing mistakes, its too late :,)
⁀➷ Summary: The 5 times Natasha Romanoff falls asleep where she shouldn't and the 1 time she does.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Falling asleep was usually done in a bed. Preferably a comfy bed with a large spread of blankets to nestle into. That was your idea of a good place to sleep at least. However, as you’d come to learn, Natasha wasn’t exactly picky on where she chose to sleep.
The first time it had happened, the two of you were on a long train journey across Europe. You had been tasked with a mission in Prague, and Natasha insisted on accompanying you – which of course, you didn’t object to. Despite the urgency of the mission, the train ride had offered a rare moment of respite from the chaos of your usual lives.
You were only a couple hours or so into the half-day long journey when Natasha had seemingly lost interest in the book she’d been reading over, shifting in her seat as she folded the corner of her page and set the book on the small accompanying table. The train the two of you were riding was fairly modern, which made a pleasant change for once, so the luxury having a table with your seats was definitely something she was going to make use of.
You glanced over down at her, observing her subtle movements. She caught your gaze and offered a small, mysterious smile before leaning back in her seat. She sat there for a moment before you heard her shift again, this time you felt Nat’s head come to rest against your shoulder, her whole body leaning into your direction as she cosied up to you.
“You quite comfy there?” You teased gently, earning herself a small laugh as the redhead hid a smile against your shoulder.
"Very comfy," She replied, her voice a low murmur that seemed to vibrate through your chest. "You make a good pillow."
The corners of your lips rose into an amused grin, “Is that so?” You rolled your eyes playfully as your hand came to settle on the back of her head, fingers running softly through her gorgeous red curls.
As the rhythmic clattering of the train wheels continued, Natasha's breathing gradually slowed, and you could feel the gentle rise and fall of her chest against your side. The next time you’d looked down at her, her eyes had fluttered closed. Not in the way that someone rests their eyes but in way that someone closed their eyes after they’d given into the lull of sleep.
My, my, Natasha Romanoff. How you weren’t going to forget this.
You stole glances at her every now and then, admiring the serene expression on her face as she surrendered to sleep. It was a side of Nat that few were privileged to see – she was vulnerable, peaceful, and utterly captivating. Her usually alert demeanour softened in slumber, her features smooth and unguarded. Usually, this type of vulnerability was reserved for spaces where she couldn’t be witnessed but here, she was, curled up on your shoulder, sound asleep for the world to see.
You didn’t dare to disturb her, afraid that any sudden movement might wake her up. Instead, you shifted slightly to find a more comfortable position, careful not to jostle your sleeping girlfriend too much.
But as time passed, you found yourself growing accustomed to the weight of her head against your shoulder, the warmth of her body seeping into yours. It was a sensation you hadn't expected to enjoy as much as you did, feeling oddly content in this shared moment.
・゚:
Now that was the thing about Natasha, she never failed to surprise you. Natasha Romanoff, the dangerous Black Widow herself. You could’ve never imagined she could possibly be so soft like this. It was from that moment onwards that you’d started to take a more thorough note of her sleeping habits.
The next memorable time had been only a few short weeks later. The pair of you had returned home from your mission and after a day or two settling back in, you both had to do the one thing every Avenger dreaded.
Mission reports.
They were just so boring! Of course, you understood why they were necessary for health and safety and such, but those reasons never seemed to be enough encouragement to sit from the hours of typing up, signing and filing documents. But it had to be done.
At least this time you had Natasha with you. The pair of you always did yours together anyway so being on joint missions just simplified the task. It wasn’t hard by any means, just very, very tedious.
You let out an exaggerated sigh as you stared at the mountain of paperwork in front of you, scattered across the table. Natasha, ever the professional, sat next to you, her expression stoic as she typed away on her laptop. The dim lighting in the room only added to the monotony of the task at hand.
"Nat, how do you manage to make something as bland as just typing sound so deadly?" You quipped, earning a small smirk from her, “You type with such assertion. It’s honestly impressive.”
She glanced at you over the rim of her reading glasses (the ones which you’d picked out for her even though she had insisted she hadn’t needed them) her green eyes locking onto yours. "Practice, darling. Lots and lots of practice."
As you both continue typing away, the monotony of the task begins to take its toll. After what felt like an eternity, Natasha finally pushed her laptop away and stretched, her muscles groaning in protest. "I think we've earned a break, don’t you?" She suggested, looking at the clock on the wall. "Why don't you go grab us some food? I'll stay here and finish up the last bit."
Relieved to escape the paperwork for a while, you agreed eagerly. "Food sounds good love. What are you in the mood for?"
She thought for a moment before replying, "Surprise me. Just nothing too greasy, please."
You nodded, standing up and stretching your own tired limbs. "Got it. Mind if I go take a short walk first, I could really use some fresh air, be back in a bit?"
“Yeah of course sweetheart,” Nat smiled and waved you off, “Take your time darling, we’re in no rush.”
You stretched out your arms as you stood up, shaking out the dull aches that had formed before moving round to Nat’s side of the table to plant a sneaky kiss to her cheek, “I won't be too long, maybe half an hour at the longest.”
Your kiss left her warm inside, and you shot her a small wave as you headed out the room. You hadn’t realised how tired you were until you’d started walking around the compound. The heating had been set so it would be comfortably warm for the two of you and the sudden chill of the outside air had you snapping awake. Going for a quick walk didn’t take long, all you really wanted to do was move around a little so after 15 minutes or so, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and made a pickup order at a local takeout place.
You’d decided pasta was a safe bet for dinner. Plus, you’d added a fruit smoothie for Natasha too. It didn’t take long to collect your food; it was only a short walk away and they’d actually made it fairly fast. In total you’d taken around 25 minutes or so, not too far from your estimate and you hummed to yourself casually as you made your way back the meeting room where you and Natasha had set up in.
As you approached the meeting room, you had to balance the bags of food in your arms, you pushed the door open gently, trying not to disturb Natasha in case she was still working. However, what you saw instead made your heart melt.
There she was, slouched over slightly in her chair, her head resting on folded arms with her curly red hair falling messily onto the desk. The dim reflection of light from her open laptop cast a gentle glow on her peaceful face, accentuating the tired lines that usually went unnoticed.
The sight of your girlfriend snoozing was adorable. You could never quite understand how just small redhead could be so cute. Gently, you reached out to brush a few strands of her tousled hair away from her face, helpless to stop your lips from forming into a soft smile.
The bags of takeout were momentarily forgotten as you carefully set them down on the nearest surface. Sitting down you turn her laptop to face you and quietly get on with completing what was left of her report. The weight of the day's responsibilities seemed to fade away as you typed, your prior displeasure being replaced by a quiet contentment in simply being with her.
It didn't take long to complete and after finishing up the report, you closed her laptop gently and put it away before you gathered the takeout bags and set them on the table, arranging the food neatly – it was still warm luckily.
With a tender smile, you leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Natasha's forehead, eliciting a soft murmur from her. It warmed your heart to see her so at ease, even amid her exhaustion.
Settling back into your chair, you allowed yourself a moment to simply watch her slowly come round from sleep and as Nat stirred awake, blinking sleepily, you couldn't help but chuckle softly at her drowsy expression. "Hey there, sleepyhead," you whispered affectionately, reaching for her hand. "Dinner's ready whenever you are."
・゚:
Some people like to say that twice is coincidence but three’s a pattern. And this was certainly a pattern if you’d ever seen one. But you never expected it to happen twice in the same day. Of course it wasn’t a bad thing or anything, if anything you found it adorable that she trusted you enough to be vulnerable and open around.
You loved that she was so comfortable around you. And that comfortability really came to show a few months later when the pair of you had headed down to the gym to train together. The gym had become your shared haven, a place where the two of you could escape the stresses of daily life and focus on the physical and mental benefits of training.
On this particular day, the gym was buzzing with activity. The rhythmic sound of weights clinking and the occasional thud of medicine balls hitting the floor filled the air, Clint and Thor could also be heard grunting and throwing playful insults as they sparred together. Natasha and you decided to take residency in your usual corner.
As you both warmed up, you couldn't help but notice that Nat seemed a bit more fatigued than usual. You could see the exhaustion in her eyes, the subtle signs of a restless night, and the weariness that clung to her movements. Now that you thought about it, you faintly remembered being woken up by her tossing and turning and you began to wonder if she had even managed to get any sleep at all. You couldn't help but worry about pushing herself too hard.
"Come on, Natasha," you said, concern lacing your voice. "We can take it easy today. It's okay to rest. We don't have to push ourselves so hard every time."
But Nat only flashed you a tired smile, appreciating your concern. "I know, but I need this today. It's my way of clearing my mind and getting a bit of release.”
You nodded but as the session progressed, you made sure to keep a watchful eye over her, just to make sure she wasn't overexerting herself – you knew exactly just how she could get carried away. Yet despise her obvious fatigue, the two of you moved seamlessly through various sets of weights, pushing each other to improve.
Eventually, it was obvious you both needed a short break. Natasha stretched, taking deep breaths to regain some energy. You suggested finding a quiet spot to rest for a few minutes, and she agreed. You both settled down, and Nat leaned against the wall, closing her eyes briefly. After a few minutes the fatigue seemed to catch up with her all at once. She let out a soft sigh, and without intending to she let her head drop and gave into the exhaustion that had been lingering since the night before.
You observed as Natasha's breathing steadied, her features relaxing as she drifted into an unexpected slumber. A small smile played on your lips as you realised just how tired she must have been to actually fall asleep amongst the general clatter of background noise.
“You with me Widow?” You cooed in a low voice, hand coming to move aside a strand of sweat soaked hair from her face, biting back a smile as when she slowly woke back up, mumbling something incoherant to herself before looking up at you through sleepy eyes, “Awh look at you nodding off like that, come on baby, that’s enough for one day.”
You gently helped Natasha to her feet, supporting her as she rubbed her eyes and stretched. She blinked groggily, her eyes meeting yours. A faint grin tugged at the corners of her lips, appreciating the care in your voice.
“You awake enough to go get something to eat or do you wanna go get cosy on the sofa for a bit?”
“Can we watch a movie or something?” Natasha murmured softly, her hand finding your own and intwining her fingers in your own.
Of course you agreed. Nothing sounded better than to cosy up and snuggle whilst you watched a film together. It was especially nice considering how it’d give Nat a chance to unwind a little, finally letting her actually rest. Not just saying shes resting then going about her day as usual like she’d normally do.
You settled onto the sofa, Natasha snuggling close, her head finding a comfortable spot in your lap. Gently, you began to massage her scalp, feeling the tension slowly dissipate under your touch. The soft glow of the TV illuminated the room as you scrolled through the movie options, eventually settling on Lion King, knowing it was one of her favourites.
The movie began to play in the background, but your all attention was on the peaceful expression settling across Nat's face.
“Oh my sleepy baby girl, again?” You whispered knowingly, recognising the way that her blinking began to slow, taking longer and longer for her to reopen her eyes, “Natty sweetheart, if you’re this tired do you not want to go up to bed? It’d be a lot comfy than sleeping on me my love.” You asked, your hand finding its way to her hair, gently massaging her head of red curls.
Your question fell on deaf ears however as Natasha had already given in and let herself fall back asleep. This wasn’t a problem of course, for now you’d be content to hold and watch over her as long as she needed.
・゚:
By now you’d gotten used to Natasha’s sleeping patterns by now. It was an endearing habit by now. Still despite everything, she’d never complain or whine, always content just to fall asleep where she was.
You’d always reminded her that she only had to ask and you’d be more than happy to get cuddled up in her bed with, but she’d never found it in herself to ask.
Your favourite time it happened was only recently. You and Natasha were attending one of Stark’s galas, truthfully the pair of you didn’t really care much for them but Tony had insisted on everyones attendance so you’d both decided to dress up for the occasion.
Natasha looked stunning, her gorgeous curves being accentuated by a beautiful black dress. You were beyond proud to have her on your arm.
As you entered the grand ballroom, Nat's soft hand in your own, you couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for her. The way she carried herself with such confidence and grace never failed to captivate you.
The dim lights and elegant decor created the perfect backdrop for the event. As the gala continued the unfold, the two of you shared tales, whispered secrets, and effortlessly danced the night away. The drinks seemed to flow endlessly. Eventually you made the smart decision to switch to plain soda, meanwhile Natasha kept going.
Seeing her like this certainly wasn’t something you were used to. “I’m Russian, I can handle it.” This was her usual go to phrase when it came to drinking. You’d never seen her like this, spinning around your arms dizzily as a vodka-fuelled blush danced across her cheeks.
Despite her insistence that she was fine, you couldn't ignore the signs of her growing inebriation. Her once graceful dances turned into playful stumbles, and her words started to slur.
“Nooo, I’m fine, really, come, come dance with me.” Natasha smiled giddily, letting her hands flow over you and she span.
With a playful smile, she urged you to join her on the dance floor once again. As you twirled around together. The spinning and laughter continued until, inevitably, fatigue slowly began to creep in.
In the quiet moments between songs, she leaned on you, her eyes betraying the weariness beneath the intoxication.
You took this as sign to ease her away and you’d managed to get her settled in a small seating area away from the main floor. Now that she’d slowed down, she finally seemed to feel the effect of her drinks hit her. Her wide-pupils gazed up at the ceiling, adorably rambling off in incoherent babbles.
“Do you think we should get you to bed darling?” You smiled innocently, your hand slipping down her dress to rest against her slightly overheated skin.
She closed her eyes, still smiling up at you “Mm’ just fine here wi’ my favourite pilla’.”
“Your favourite ‘pilla’, hm baby?” You chuckled, shaking your head as she sleepily cuddled into your shoulder.
As Natasha drifted into a tipsy slumber, you couldn’t help but cradle her gently, even though this may not have been the most convenient of situations but you were certainly going to enjoy it.
・゚:
Now all things eventually come to an end. Movies, books, and for the two of you, Nat’s little habit was about to be broken.
She’d come home late that night looking a look paler than usual, well, pale for Natasha’s standards anyway. When she’d left this morning her hair had been beautifully plaited, now her curls just hung loosely by her shoulders.
Nat shuffled into the living room where you’d been perched up with a book, kicking off her shoes and letting her bag fall to the floor as she came and nestled into your side.
“Long day?” You murmured softly, setting your book aside as you opened up the fluffy grey blanket you’d had previously draped over your knees to allow her to snuggle beneath it instead.
She simply nodded, biting back the urge to whine, “I hate those stupid meetings.” She grumbled, her voice holding the dragging weight of exhaustion.
Governor meetings were something every Avenger had to attend. They were painstakingly private about it meaning you were never allowed to accompany each other to them. The meetings varied a little from person to person but the main just of it was answering a long series of very repetitive questions and going through countless past missions and their details. Having to sit and listen as some fancy higher ups tried to pick you apart for every individual detail and mistake - and well, with Nat’s reputation of being constantly on Ross’s nerves, they weren’t going to go easy on her.
Nat rubbed her temples, a headache pounding behind her eyes. "And the fluorescent lights in that room... ugh, they're the worst," she added, wincing at the memory of the harsh glare. Her voice was a little raspy, most likely the result of having to constantly explain herself to idiots for the entire day.
You gently massaged her shoulders, feeling the tension in her muscles, “Do you want me to get you anything for that headache my sweet girl?” Your voice was kept low as your offered, not wanting to run the risk of making it any worse.
Your girlfriend sighed, leaning into your soothing touch. "Just some water would be nice," she replied, her eyes closing momentarily. After handing her a glass of water, you noticed her head nodding forwards slightly as she fought to stay awake.
"You look like you could use some rest," you suggested gently, anticipating her usual move to drift off to sleep on you whilst you stayed cuddled on the sofa.
But to your surprise, the redhead looked up at you with a faint, almost anxious smile. “Could you... carry me to bed?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, clear vulnerability thickening her tone.
You weren’t sure you’d heard her correctly at first. You asked her to repeat herself to which she barely mouthed her prior words. You were helpless to stop your heart from melting at her request, realising just how drained the poor thing must be feeling. "Of course, my dear," you replied tenderly, carefully scooping her up into your arms, cradling her close as you carefully made your way into your bedroom, “I told you Natty, I’ll always be here to take you to bed.”
There it was, the moment Nat had finally asked to actually go to bed for once. It was a long time coming and you’d loved being with her for every step of the way, even if it had involved her falling asleep in some pretty less-than normal places.
As you laid her down on the bed, Natasha snuggled into the pillows, a contented sigh escaping her lips. "Thank you," she murmured sleepily, her heavy eyes already drifting shut.
With a soft smile, you pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Anytime my love. Just close those eyes and get some rest, I'll be right here the whole time."
And right there you stayed, arms wrapped around her and the woman you loved slept against your chest in your shared bed. Finally she was getting the rest she deserved and there was nowhere else you’d ever want to be.
・゚:*
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zealousllamawolf · 13 days
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Book Club (Alastor x Reader)
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Parings- Alastor X Reader
!!Minors DNI with this post. R-18+!!
Summary- Reader unknowingly drugs tea for themselves leaving them vulnerable in the presence of Alastor
Word count- 5.5k words
Tags- bloodletting, p in v, rough sex, masturbation, crush against Alastor, drugged slightly. First time Reader, bondage, SMUT SMUT SMUT.
~~~
   It’s been ages since you could curl up somewhere quiet with a book. You struggle just to find time to be alone with the constant chaos of the other residents at the hotel. So, when Charlie announced at breakfast that everyone was welcome to come to dinner with her father, Lucifer, at his manor you were excited to decline. 
  You had just been given a new book by Angel that seemed interesting and romantic. Romance books held a special place in your heart even when you were still alive. You could see yourself as the main character being loved by someone to the fullest and that was all you needed for the most part. You never had a lot of romantic experiences on earth and surely not in hell. You did not trust anyone enough to be that vulnerable in front of them. 
  Well, that is not entirely true. There was Alastor, but it is not like you could trust him, you had the tiniest infatuation with him. He was always slithering out from the shadows invading your personal space. Even though you didn’t mind the close proximity whenever Alastor came up behind you to grab something that was in front of you, he would lean down close to your ear apologizing, “I am sorry for the intrusion, darling’’, only his voice was deeper than his usual charming range, while his tone scratched a deep itch inside your body. You can never help the heat building between your legs when you feel his breath on your neck as he slips away grinning triumphantly.
  Every time you felt his presence in the room you tried to keep yourself from trailing him with your eyes as he struts proudly with Charlie helping her with whatever she needs for the hotel but in most cases, you could not keep your eyes to yourself. Sometimes Alastor senses your heavy gaze so he turns and looks at you but instead of looking away he just stares at you his grin growing when warmth spreads to your cheeks leaving you hot and flustered forcing you to break from his stare. 
  None of this matters anyways it is not like he means anything by it. It is all just a part of the cruel game he plays to find enjoyment in the suffering of lowly demons. You sigh and shake your head, sitting up straighter. Looking around your plate is full while everyone else’s is almost finished.
  “Are you okay dear? Your plate seems… untouched” Alastor asks grinning, but his smile did not reach his eyes, seemingly concerned, his question forcing all eyes on you. “Wouldn’t want my little helper to starve now,” he said statically, preceding to stare you down.
  “I- um... I am not hungry this morning. I am fine, thank you,” forcing yourself to only look at Alastor for a moment before looking at Charlie. You squeeze your legs tight trying to refrain from thinking about Alastor ‘s back, flush with yours, cursing yourself for thinking about him in that way. “I was actually thinking about staying back while you guys go to dinner.” 
  Charlie frowns for a second before whipping up a reassuring smile “Oh, that’s okay! We will miss you but sometimes you just need a good RnR,” she smiles and finishes the last bite on her fork.
  “Yes, thank your princess,” looking at Angel, wiggling your eyebrows. “I am going to spend the night reading the book you gave me.” You playfully say with a smile barely able to contain your excitement bouncing up and down slightly. 
  Angel cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh sugar, I am not sure that’s going to be very relaxing,” chuckling the spider demon smiles not willing to share his thoughts on the book further. 
  “Reading in general makes me relax I am sure I’ll be fine pretty boy,’ you giggle at the pet name and smile back at Angel who in return gave you a toothy grin. 
  “If you say so (y/n),” Angel says, picking up his plate and walking towards the kitchen. 
  Alastor grin softens as he sees how excited you were, hoping you would turn to look at him with the same sparkle your eyes gave Angel. Grin widening further he had an idea.
  “If you would not mind, dear, I would love to join you while you read. I have a couple radio show ideas that need to be put on paper,” he asks charmingly.
Just the thought of sitting next to Alastor made your cheeks flush and heartbeat rapidly. “Well, by all means come along, I-I wouldn’t mind the company,” you stutter slightly as the last part rushes out of your mouth, unable to control yourself.
  ‘How bold of you’, you thought to yourself, bringing your cold hands to your face trying to settle the burning heat you feel on your cheeks. ‘Why did I say that?’ You ask yourself, quickly coming undone when you think about being alone with Alastor. Temporarily unable to breathe you force yourself to cut up some of the cold food on your plate. A meaningless task you thought ‘Why did he even want your company?’
  “Very well, dear,” Alastor says as he gets up from his seat walking to your chair, only to stop a couple inches from where you sat, he leaned down and spoke softly in your ear. “Now, finish your breakfast darling.” You inwardly groan as his breath whisps past your neck. All you could do was sink slightly further into your chair and nod.
~~~
  You spend the rest of the day doing your laundry coming to and from your room on the second floor to the basement. Grateful for the mundane task you sigh contently thinking over your love life. Why hadn’t you branched out and at least experienced someone giving you pleasure? You always became hot and bothered from reading about love and sometimes lust, why could not you indulge with someone tangible. Your attraction towards these fiction man had overpowered any attraction for anyone in your real in your life. No one ever came close.
  Your mind drifted to Alastor, the sound of his voice or his closeness brought a flood between your legs and a small knot of tension in your stomach every time you saw him. It is not like you’ve never felt arousal before, buts it’s never been this strong for someone you could interact with. You shake your head and let out a frustrating sigh, trying to clear your thoughts as you gather up the rest of your last load, making your way back up to your room carrying your laundry basket.
  You decided once you reached your room to take a shower to try to clean off the dirtiness of your mind, swearing Alastor had a sixth sense for that, never failing you use it against you to make you flustered.
You take a short shower coming out of your bathroom wrapped in a towel as you make your way to your bed covered in folded clean clothes. Wrestling up some comfortable shorts and a large long sleave-shirt you get dressed without putting on a bra. Why would you? When you were alive that is how you dressed when you were lost in a book, why not be comfortable allowing yourself to let go today.
  Standing up off your bed you go to your bookshelf grabbing your Angels book and start to head downstairs to the kitchen to make tea and milk, your comfort drink for reading. When you make your way downstairs in the lobby, you are greeted by the crew getting ready to leave for Lucifer’s dinner.
  “Wow, you all look amazing.” Looking down at your lounge wear you suddenly felt embarrassed with how you were dressed.
   “Thank you (y/n), you look very comfy!” Charlie smiles as she bounces up and down while Vaggie tries to calm her, giggles some.
  You blush looking down to rub your feet together as Angel comes over grabbing your hand, raising your arm up and spinning you around with a twirl.
“Now, this is what I want to be wearing”, you giggle feeling the blush lift, Angel always making you feel instantly better. He reminded you a lot like a friend you had when you were alive, making you feel safe.
  “We should probably get going, don’t want to worry Dad.’’ Charlie chuckles as she practically out the door with Vaggie in tow, while everyone is waving and reciting their goodbyes the door finally closes behind them.
  Standing alone in the lobby you are left feeling empty, second guessing yourself on staying home. ‘Maybe you should have gone with them instead,’ you shook your head, chiding your own thoughts. ‘No’ you needed this; you have not had a real escape since showing up in hell.
  You skipped your way to the kitchen to prepare your tea. After successfully having the patience to wait for your tea bag to seep you poured what tastes and smells like milk into your tea, not noticing the label that fell to the floor reading ‘Property of Angel DO NOT touch’, gathering your book and mug you head to the bar.
  You grab a piece of paper and pen so you could write a note to Alastor letting him know where you were in case, he would hold to his word, which you were still unsure if he really meant it or if it was a part of his game.
I will be on the outside patio.
Waiting patiently
(y/n)
  Satisfied, you grab your things and make your way to the patio, a place you often came for some peace. You smile when you realize the fading light will be enough to read naturally for a little bit before the lights around the patio will turn on and the fireflies will be flicking just past the garden’s tree line. After a long gulp of your tea, you grimace at the overwhelming sweet taste, placing your mug down on a side table next to the comfortable outside couch. ‘Must have put too much sugar in.’ Shaking your head.
You settling down with your back leaning against the cushioned arm, you stretch your legs out before bringing your knees up close towards your chest allowing space for you to curl up with your book. Before you could start, you hear static in front of you and the air chilling around you slightly. You look up to see Alastor appearing with his shadows fading away around him as he sat with his legs crossed with a pen and pad laying on his lap.
  “Good evening, darling,’’ Alastor immediately noticed how your cheek grew into a deep crimson, but that is not all he noticed. Your feet were slightly apart and with the way your knees were placed you gave him quite the view. Your shorts had bunch up outlining your cunt perfectly, your puffy lips outrageously enhance by the middle seam of your shorts.
  “Hello Alastor,” looking down you flip your book opening it, holding in a moan since saying his name had influence on you making you clench your core suddenly heat spread between your legs.
  When Alastor saw your cunt clench, he almost let out a groan feeling rapid swelling against his pants. How did you have such a hold on him? He wanted to grab your ankles, pull you to him and rip off your shorts so he could finally taste your sweet-smelling core.Tearing his gaze away he sat there lost in his mind before you broke him of the spell you had on him.
  “If you’re okay with it I am going to start,’ you say as you flip to the first chapter, you look up and see Alastor’s smile stained. “Hey Al… you are doing, okay?” You ask though before you could start worrying, his smile changed softly.
“Go ahead darling, I am okay I am just thinking though some interesting ideas for my radio show.” You nod, returning your focus to your book.
  You and Alastor sat in silence for a while as you read long enough for the patio lights to have turned on. The tone of the book was unbelievably sexual from the first chapter. Graphic depictions of the two lovers sex life were… well it was making you more aroused. The male companion was exactly what you would want in the bedroom. Something you have fantasized repeatedly but you could not help picturing Alastor as the main male character. You being chained and dominated under him, wrists tied to a bed unable to do anything while you were being taken.
  Your core ached desperate for some attention, it had become overwhelming to say the least, your cunt clenched over nothing countless time. How could I get this horny after reading this book, it felt unreal, the aching increase and you almost let out a moan. ‘Oh my god what has gotten in you?’ you start to question reality now. Trying to clear your head you shifted slightly drawing Alastor’s attention back to you while your mind was captured with the scene being played out in your head unable to focus on your book.
  Alastor’s gaze shifted from your blushing, sweaty face to your cunt that was already beginning to leak with your arousal causing a wet spot on your shorts clearly, the fabric becoming slightly transparent forcing him to know the color of your panties. He felt his cock twitch aching for some friction. All he wanted to do was run a finger down your wet shorts, just to see what type of reaction you would make. Suddenly you throw your legs over the side of the couch, planting your feet on the ground unable to control your shaking legs. Alastor quickly looks down at his notepad afraid of getting caught looking at your cunt rubbing a hand across his face to try to mask his flustered face.
 Panting slightly, with your head hanging low you try to catch your breath as the aching became too much. Every part of your body felt sensitive like it was on fire and needed a release. You had to get away from Alastor and quickly, he could not see you like this. Lifting your head, you look in front of you noticing the fireflies pulsing in the distance. Perfect. Unable to think rationally you hop up on your feet and turn to Alastor.
  “I-I am going to go um… L-look at the… um fireflies! For a minute,’’ panting you try to regain your composure but Alastor sensed something was wrong, so he reaches out and grabs your hand sending electric shocks up your arm. You flinch and pull your hand back throwing it up to your mouth coving a small barely audible gasp.
  “Are you okay dear? You seem…wound up’’ his voice dropping an octave, your core throbbed at his voice wondering if that’s what he would sound like fucking you dumb.
“Y-yess, I am fine” sucking in a breath, you say, “I just need a minute to take a break.’’
  It takes everything in you to not run as fast as possible to find cover somewhere you could relieve the heat that was continually bubbling at your core. Finally making your way past the tree line and out of Alastor’s line of sight, crouching down on the fountain in the middle of the garden you collapse to the ground to your knees bracing yourself on the stone edge.
  Confused Alastor he picked up your book wondering if it was the cause of your sudden mood shift, peeking through a couple paragraphs only to find a complete description of a couple in an intimate moment. He looked up to where you had gone, a thought peeking is interest. He follows after you staying back some to see what you would do.
  Stuffing your hand under your panties, you instantly find your throbbing bundle of nerves and start to rub in circles causing you to moan loudly, confident you were out of ear shot from Alastor so you felt free to let go.
  You need more. Quickly you pull your shorts down a little with your spare hand, giving yourself a little more room to move further to your cunt entrance.You slide a finger down your slit and circle around your core getting your finger wet before entering yourself. “Oh… fuck,” you moan again.
  You have never felt anything like this before, everything feels more intense and sensitive. It would normally take minutes of fingering yourself to even reach this level of pleasure, but this was something different. Your walls clenched as you go deeper and found your sweet spot gently pressing back and forth, with this you are melting further down, unable to keep yourself up.
Alastor’s grinning face flashes against your tightly shut eyes like it has so many times before when you have touched yourself. You could not help but moan, “A-Alastor…” saying his name made your core tighten and started to spasming around your finger reaching your climax.
“Oh, you have been a naughty little girl’’, you gasp hearing Alastor’s voice behind you. Panting still coming down from your orgasm, you turn slowly facing him pulling your hand out of your shorts quickly.
“OH my, Alastor I-“
  “No need to explain dear’’ his smirk widening. “I did hear my name though. Were you touching yourself at the mere thought of me perhaps?”
  How did he hear that? Was he standing here the whole time?
  Bashfully you say in a quiet voice, “Y-yes’’ unable to hide your lust and desire throbbing from your inflamed cunt, you lower your head hoping he wouldn’t notice.
  Alastor’s in front of you in seconds using his staff to lift your chin forcing you to look at him. “It’s quite alright little doe” he leans down at the waist inches from your face making you squirm feeling his breath on your lips. “In fact, I have wanted to sample your taste for some time now,’’ with a strained smile, “All you have to say is one word, and I could help with your…” shifting his staff he trailed it down your stomach stopping right before he reached your cunt. “Problem.”
  Shamefully you could not say no so you whisper “Yes,’’ breathing out.
  Immediately after you respond he’s pressing his lips to yours, licking his tongue at your bottom lip you, asking for permission before proceeding. You moan against his lips finding yourself lost as he enters your mouth as his tongue searches yours, teeth lightly nipping at your bottle lip.
Your body lights up in that moment, you lean forward and wrap your hands around his neck pulling him closer as you rake your fingers though his hair. Stifling a moan, air whips around both of you, next thing you know, you find yourself on top of something soft. Your head starts to swarm, and your body starts to heat up just like before, telling you it needed to be touched.
  You break the kiss and lean your head back, breathing out as Alastor trails kisses down your jawline stopping before latching on to a sensitive spot. “Alastor… please I need…” You voice catching when he drags a claw down your side until he reaches the hem of your shirt. You shudder as his hand moves under slowly and slides up over your bare rib cage before stopping just under your breast.
  ‘’You need what, (y/n), be a good girl and use your words.” His hand moves up cupping your breast and runs a finger over your hard nipple making you moan and lean back forcing him to straddle one of your thighs with his knee pressed up against your cunt. You grind yourself against his leg, groaning as your eyes cloud with lust at the much-needed friction.
“T-touched. I need to be touched more.’’ It was all you could make out before Alastor rubs circles around your nipple making you shiver all over.
  “As you wish my sweet girl.” Alastor snaps and you are laying there completely bare in front of him. You let out a yelp and instinctively try to cover your mound with your hands before you could reach green chains appeared around your wrist pulling them over your head. You whine and try to close your legs even though it was helpless since his thigh was still pressed against you.
  “N-no one has ever seen…’’ you stop for a second so you would not sound dirty. ‘’Me before,” your face starts to burn in embarrassment. Alastor notices and trails his claws up your neck grasping your jaw to make you stare at him though half-lidded eyes.
 “Ill be gentle my sweet,’’ with that you nod allowing your legs to open wide letting Alastor have a full look at your glistening cunt. You hear his suck in a deep breath before lowly saying “You are perfect, and this is all mine to enjoy, no one else has even glimpsed at you.” He groans closing his eyes at the thought, using his spare hand and slides a finger though your slick folds, you hike your hips against his finger at the instant pleasure. “How far have gone before?” It takes you a second to respond, all you could focus was Alastor’s fingers gingerly touching your entrance. You glare at him for a second after registering what he said.
  “I’ve taken more than just my fingers Alastor,’’ you say faking anger. “Just not with anyone real.”
  In response to this Alastor’s thrusts his finger into you, curling up and presses down causing you to moan loudly at the sudden pressure on your sweet spot. His finger pumping faster as he adds another digit inflicting your walls to pulse over his fingers.
  His eyes shift to yours full of desire and command, “What have you used on yourself then?” Alastor’s eyes dart down to your cunt pressing his thumb against your clit, circling slowly.
  You jolt your waist up your whole body flares with heat. “A toy!” you practically yell in pleasure. Commanding your breath to return you say, “A six-inch p-plastic toy” tears forming in your eyes, choking more words out. “It was all I could manage.” You whisper, tears spilling over to the sides of your face, falling into your hairline.
  His grip gets tighter making his claws dig into your inner thigh, forcing small droplets of blood to rise to the surface. You wince at the pain, but surprisingly it increases your pleasure, making you rut your hips further on his fingers. Alastor moans while chuckling. “So, you do like pain too…” Gliding a third finger into your heat. “Oh, darling you are going to have to take more than six inches.”
  Your brain goes into over-drive as you start to feel pressure building in your lower stomach “Alastor please I need more” begging as more tears fall.
  ‘’Mmh, good girl. I want you to want me and me only, by the time we are done you are going to beg for me to stop.” He leans over your chest and takes a nipple in his warm mouth biting just enough to inflict pain, but he quickly runs his tongue in a circle causing you to moan his name. “Oh, you’re so reactive, every touch so far. I can’t wait to hear more of your precious sounds.”
  “T-that’s new…I’ve never felt like this before, the intense heat feels so.” You voice trailed off as Alastor leads kisses up your neck, he brings up his bloody claws up to his mouth, taking a taste. He groans loudly closing his eyes at the taste of your blood. You watch him open his eyes franticly looking at you with a need for more, your words fall out of your mouth. “Un-natural.”
  Alastor kisses your neck and nicks the soft skin, lapping up your blood feverishly. Your walls tighten around his fingers, feeling yourself close with an orgasm. Right before you get your release, he pulls his fingers out of your cunt, bringing them to his mouth he licks one digit clean before bringing them to your lips forcing them open. You lap up your own juices on his fingers making Alastor moan. Shutting your eyes as he sucks harder on your neck trying to draw out more blood. You hear his buckle coming undone as Alastor takes his fingers out of your mouth, in an instant he is fully undressed.
  You open your eyes at the touch of Alastor’s cock gently tapping your clit. You look him up and down, your eyes tracing his chest. Surprised to see a puffy patch of black and red hair, thinning out as it reaches his stomach leaving a happy trial of red leading down to his cock. You are left breathless as you gawk at the sheer size of him alone. Your eyes dart up and he's looking down at you with a mischievous grin as he slides the tip of his cock down your slit getting himself lubricated with your juices, stopping just before entering your heat.
  You fiddle with the chains restricting your movement and you whine, wiggling your hands. “Please Alastor, came I have my hands back, I want to touch you.” Moaning as he presses the tip of his cock into your cunt. You squeeze your eyes shut at the intrusion that came along with a burning sensation around your tight ring.
  “Oh, darling I think not. I happen to look though your book earlier, and it included bondage little doe.” His voice dropping the way you always fantasize over. Alastor gives you a moment to acclimate to his size before pressing further into you slowly, “and domination,’’ he says as he magically pulls the chains tighter. You gasp as he fills you more, filling you to the point you thought you were going to burst, you clench down hard around Alastor shaft resulting in his cock twitching inside you. Alastor moans and presses a hand on your lower stomach right over your uterus making you gasp not knowing that pressure would give you such an intense pleasure. “Just relax, you going to take all of me.” Alastor growls saying the last part as he reaches under one of your knees lifting it over his shoulder, pressing forward when he feels you ease up around his cock.
 You bite your lip hard trying to hold in a moan, enough to break the skin making your mouth fill up with the taste of iron. Some of the blood pooling around your mouth before falling slowly down your chin dripping on to your chest.
  Alastor looks down at you with lust filled eyes widening at the sight of your blood. You could see his composer failing, so you take your tongue and wipe it across your lip sucking in the blood you had on your lips. That sets something off in Alastor as he plunges the rest of his length flush with your hips. Surprised at the feeling of being completely filled and the force of the thrust you yelp in pleasure as his cock twitch against your cervix. Your cunt spasms around his perfectly snug cock making you shudder.
   Nothing has ever been inside you this deep before causing our cunt to burn as his cock stretches you beyond the breaking point, well past the three-inch girth of your previous toy.
  Straining against the chains you whisper breathlessly,” oh Alastor please move. I need more” you beg, grinding against his cock.
  “You are taking my cock like a good girl.” Alastor coos as he pulls back his hips pulling out enough to still have his tip buried inside you and thrust softly so you can get used to the movement. Moaning, you arch your back at the sensation of his cock pushing though your gummy walls.
  “Alastor,’ you growl pulling on the chains even though they dig into your skin leaving your wrists raw and red. “You don’t need to be gentle with me” sucking in your breath as he slides slowly into your cunt again. “I can take it.’
  “Don’t worry little doe you’ll get what you’re asking for,” thrusting into you with more force before he starts to take a brutal pace bruising your cervix each time, he pounds into you. Your vison starts to blacken around the edges as you are quickly approaching your release. Alastor grabs your other knee and forcing them to your chest gaining an angle that allows him to fuck you deeper. You could not hear yourself anymore for your mind was overloading with the pleasure he was encouraging and fucking into you.
  “Al-Alastor, Alastor… oh my s-stars. Alastor please.” You moan his name like a chant over again sometimes you could not make yourself speak but continued saying Alastor’s name in your head. Alastor lowers your legs and raises your hips higher making him hit your g-spot with each thrust. “Please d-don’t stop” you beg, rolling your hips trying to match Alastor’s speed feeling the coil at your core tighten further making your walls clench down in return Alastor moans at your sudden tightness.
  “Good girl, beg for my cock to make you cum” you shudder as he rapidly increases his pounding.
  “P-please Al-Alastor I n-need t-to cum’’ you sob stumbling though your words from the roughness and speed he was fucking you at.
 “Yes, doe, cum on my cock. Show me how much you want it.” Alastor leans down and kisses your collarbone and he bites hard leaving an outline of his teeth without breaking the skin.
The chains disappearing around your wrists, he slips his hands under your each of your arms pulling you up, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, latching on to your neck sucking so hard blood rises to the surface just under the skin.
‘’Bite me’’ you whine and slamming your hips against him, grinding on his cock. Wrapping your arms around his neck running your fingers through his hair before you reach his growing antlers, you grasp the for some support forcing Alastor’s thrust to sputter when your made contact with them.
Alastor bites down on to your shoulder, pain knocking the breath out of you as he breaks the skin but not enough to tear around his teeth. He pulls back for a moment to watch the dark red blood rise and bubble over before any bit had a chance to drip, his mouth cupped around the bite mark, the sweet liquid flooding into his mouth. Alastor’s body starts to react to the blood fucking you harder he starts to feel you tremble as your body tightens.
Your orgasm rakes though your body with such power you start to go limp, your walls pulsing around Alastor’s cock. He releases your shoulder with a pop and groans as you milk his cock making him reach his climax, sputtering thick chains of warm seed into your womb. You let out a whimper as he slows his thrusts before thrusting into one more time resting his already softening cock inside your heat not wanting to leave.
  Alastor lowers your upper half back onto the bed and stares at your weak twitching body. Adoring the way you looked, shoulder oozed slowly, lip ripped and completely fuck dumb. You sigh in contentment as you raise your hands and rub your face smiling, looking up at Alastor, his face reflecting the one you had.
  With one last thrust he pulls out of taking a moment to watch his seed leak out, groaning satisfied he conjures up a warm wet rag, cleaning you up as your eyes flutter shut still trying to catch your breath.
  Chuckling, Alastor tosses the rag near the end of the bed he leans over your bloody body and press a soft kiss on your lips feeling your smile grow against his.
  ‘’I am yours; I don’t want anyone else,” you whisper softly opening your eyes to gage how he would respond.
  With Alastor’s face so close to your he leans down planting another kiss on your lips and says, “So you will be, mine for the taking.” He settles down next to you and pulls you up to his chest resting your face against his chest. You sink your hands in the puff of fur and close your eyes drifting off to sleep as you listen to Alastor hum a song from his time.
~~~
Later that evening you go back down to the kitchen to rinse out your coffee mug and see a thin piece of paper on the ground near the fridge. Reading it you immediately you text Angel.
(y/n): Angel was this on a clear jug with milk in it.
Angel: Yes, it was can you tape it back to the jug, I don’t want someone to get drugged. <3
(y/n): Drugged with what?
Angel: A drug that makes sex feel more intense, Val gave it to me to use for the next shoot, something about having bigger, better reactions.
You quickly make your way to Alastor’s room not bothering to knock you barge in and announce, “I was DRUGGED, my tea was spiked.” You proceed to show your messages to Alastor and explained you had used the drugged milk in your tea.
Alastor looks at you with a mischievous smile and says, “Well I guess we have to do it again to be sure you know exactly what I gave you tonight.”
You couldn’t help the heat that burned your cunt at the thought of fucking Alastor again.
~~~
A/N- This is my first time writing a fanfic and having the courage to post it, I hope it’s okay!! Request are open I’ll be posting the parameters later but feel free to ask! Feel free to voice your opinion <3 Thank you for reading 
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voonroo · 3 months
Note
Could I please request some platonic HCs for Sir Pentious and Angel Dust with a more reserved/naïve teen!reader sinner that’s relatively new to hell, somewhat overwhelmed by just all that chaos beyond the hotel, and ends up forming a paternal/sibling-like bond with them? Like they got the impression early on that Pentious/Angel either were fun to be around or maybe even helped them feel safe, and so they’ve kind of been hanging around them and coming to them for advice ever since? Thanks!
Cover Your Ears I'm About To Say Something You Don't Need To Hear!
⌐‣Angel & Pentious + Teen Reader REQ
Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎
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AUTHOR’S NOTE: I LOVE SIR PENTIOUS SO MUCH. He will get his moment. Trust. BTW ANGEL AS AN OLDER BROTHER WOULD BE SO FUNNY–
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Angel & Teen Reader
When he first saw you in the hotel not looking your hottest, he immediately felt a pang of pity.
News spread quickly in the hotel that you were new to hell. So he gave you some time before striking up a conversation.
You two hit it off without a hitch!
Angel often just calls you “kid” but it's in the most loving way possible.
He doesn't mind your reserved nature, easily talking enough for the both of you. So often, he’ll lead the conversation (a rant) and ask for your input every so often.
He tries his hardest not to spit dirty jokes in your presence, he doesn't really give two shits if you're naive, he's gonna try to keep you that way.
He wouldn't tell you what he does for a living and would probably try to avoid you after a rough shift to make absolutely sure that he doesn't pop off at you.
When you begin to come to (him!) for advice— oh that's when he takes the title of big brother.
He’d try his hardest to give you the best advice for anything you ask. If he can't think of something on the spot then expect a message with step-by-step advice at like 1 am.
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Pentious & Teen Reader
When he met you in the hotel and saw how young you were and how stressed you looked, tears could be seen in his eyes. (he's an empath I swear.)
He’d try to distract you from your own negative feelings frequently.
He calls you “my child” at first- even though you're a teenager… But soon it changes to him calling you your name like a normal person.
Another one who talks (rants) enough for the two of you. However, he’d be talking inventor and even if you don't know what he's talking about (you will soon) he will ask you your recommendations, thoughts, ideas, etcetera etcetera.
He loves trying to teach you how to build things. Whenever you're successful he claps his hands excitedly with the proudest smile on his face– and he's crying…
He grows attached very easily and will gladly take on the title of “father” The egg bois call you “the boss’s child”
Pentious won't allow any disrespect on your name even if it means he gets all the disrespect himself.
“You're naive? Oh don't worry I can be that too sssometimes—”
He knows he's so happy when you come to him for advice. He may not give the best advice but god damn it, with how he presents his answer to you with so much confidence- it might as well be.
“We ssshould nuke them!”
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Word Count: 443
Inbox is open!!
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panicpixieplaygirl · 11 months
Text
I’D HAVE YOU ANY TIME (anakin skywalker)
notes: i hope this is good. i like it but idk writing for star wars seems very intimidating. also hope y’all don’t mind the mini font, i like it so. anyway pls enjoy don’t yell at me <3
synopsis: still a beatles girl at heart…, ‘let me in here, i know i’ve been here, let me into your heart’. anakin being sore & whiny & persistent as always. loosely based on attack of the clones which will be obvious
warnings: smut!!! 😙✌🏼oral (fem receiving). pnv, creampieeeee. ridiculous overuse of many many words (so sorry).
18+! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
word count: 5.1k
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You were sick of Anakin’s prying. Barging into your mind when he thought you least expected it, irritating you with his desperation and earnesty. He was like a puppy scratching at the door, and no matter how much you shooed him away, he persisted. Nonstop, every moment of every day, for weeks.
He followed you around like a puppy, too. That was his assignment, unfortunately; to protect you from threats on your life while you were in hiding, but he was excessive. From the moment you met him once again back on Coruscant, he was never more than a few feet away, eyes never off you for more than a few seconds, constantly trying to break into your mind.
He was one of few who knew you were knowledgeable and strong in a small few of the Force’s ways. You weren’t exactly fit to be a Jedi, but you had incredible control over your mind and others’, and Anakin was determined to best you.
Between his undivided attention and that of countless people among your home planet and the rest of the Republic, you were amazed you had yet to go completely mad.
You were used to holding your composure well, inside & out, but that didn’t mean you were unaffected by it all, despite how hard you tried to be. All you wanted was to try to use this time as a few moments of solitary peace among the chaos. But your assigned protector was just too diligent.
It didn’t help that your guard had fallen weak when the two of you were re-introduced for this assignment. Anakin got into your head once, & he held on tightly to what he witnessed.
He was awaiting your arrival when you saw him, for the first time in 10 years, standing at the entrance of the ship where he & Obi-Wan would accompany you to Naboo to stow away. You nearly lost awareness of your surroundings as you approached him.
He was extraordinarily stunning. It was entirely unexpected- a dramatic contrast of the boy you once knew. A brand new man. A Jedi, at that. You wanted to stop looking at him, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away, everything else blurred into nothing.
Anakin could just faintly sense your shock & interest. It normally came of no surprise to him that he was visually admired, but you… intimidated him, some way, some how- weakened him. He dreamt of your face every night for the last decade, saw you just as real and beautiful as you stood before him now, but this was no dream. He was thrilled he’d earned your eye.
“Hello, your Highness. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” Anakin spoke, his voice gracing your ears and sending a warm glow shining and spreading in your chest and your cheeks. You nodded with a smile to greet him back.
You shared a gaze that felt deep and intense, falling into each other’s eyes and gently mingling with each other’s spirits. Seconds began to feel like hours.
Your stomach fluttered and your heart skipped as you stood before the young man. You kept a plain face, mouth gently pursed in a polite smile, but your eyes were glued to him. The words he and Obi-Wan exchanged in the short moments before boarding fell on deaf ears.
He took your hand to help you onto the ship, his much larger fingers delicately closing over yours, placing his other on the small of your back as he supported you. The sweet and intimate contact electrified you, sent your body sparking and ablaze. You were too overcome from it all to block him out of your mind, and he forced his way in.
His dreamy eyes, his plump lips, the sound of his voice, the way he looked at you, like his very existence was for the sake of swooning you, swirling & flashing & unrelenting in your head. You imagined what his lips felt like on yours and over your skin, his hands touching you tenderly and manhandling you, the weight of his body over yours.
Anakin saw your mind swimming and glittering with him, and it took all the strength he had to stop himself from pulling you in his arms and catching your lips right then. He couldn’t stop the sly smile that came across his mouth and deepened at your subsequent focus on it.
“If you need me to help clear your mind,” Anakin started in a teasing tone, “Just ask.” Suddenly it wasn’t so hard to tear your eyes from him. You blushed for the rest of night.
Since then, in the weeks that followed, he spent nearly every waking moment trying to break his way back into your head. He needed to know why you wouldn’t give in to him, if you still thought of him, if you wanted him as badly as he wanted you. It gave him just enough hope to be relentless.
And it gave you just enough embarrassment to never let it happen again. He was a Jedi, after all, and an important one. The entire galaxy would suffer if he were to be expelled. It wasn’t worth risking.
You didn’t know how any person could be so persistent for so long. Surely it must have been as tiring for him to be blocked countless times as it was for you to block him. It was like a pressure in your head, a twitch in your ear, urging you to crack. And you had to snap it back in place a hundred times a day.
That was just fighting Anakin’s use of the Force. You had to grapple with yourself as well, pushing away your ache to have him close. It helped that he was truly getting under your skin with his constant probing.
To make matters worse, just days after you reached Naboo, Obi-Wan was called back to Coruscant for a separate mission, rarely returning, leaving you alone with Anakin for days at a time. All there was for you to do was face how beautiful he was, how badly he wanted to get inside your head, and how much it all bothered you. Every day.
You needed a break, as much distance between you and Anakin as you could safely manage. Desperately.
By the fourth week you knew the planet much better. Your body was accustomed to the weather and the rise and fall of the Sun. You learned that Anakin liked to sleep in when Obi-Wan wasn’t around, but he wasn’t always a heavy sleeper. You devised something of a plan.
You woke up at dawn the next morning, moving quietly about the hut. You were careful to grab a weapon in case you should need it, and a small snack. By the grace of the Maker, you managed to make it out without waking Anakin. You would head down to the river at the bottom of the valley, only a 15 minute walk.
You listened carefully for footsteps around you as you went, watched carefully for any unfamiliar movement. You had been feeling safe, Obi-Wan assuring there’d been no talk of where you might be, but it was your first time out alone.
Somewhere along the way you realized you were just as nervous that Anakin would be following you, constantly looking back behind you, expecting to see him more than anything come to assassinate you.
But there was never anything, at least that you could sense. Sometimes a peculiar little animal, a fluttering insect, a tweeting bird, but no person. You began to relax quickly. Naboo served you a feast of fine alone time in minutes.
The sun was rising as the terrain under your feet transitioned from grass to sand. You took one last long look toward the field and forest behind you before deciding that if you didn’t feel him, he must not have been there.
You turned back toward the river. The sound of the waves, the smell of the silt and the water, the pink orange sky delighted your senses and you felt excitement flood your veins.
You slipped off your shoes and dug your feet into the sand, dragging them out into the water. You splashed & giggled in celebration of finally getting a wonderful moment alone.
You resisted the urge to get the rest of the way in and sat in the sand. Already the time alone you had from the moment you woke up and got along your journey was a breath of fresh air. You tried to enjoy it while it lasted. You’d have to go back before Anakin would wake if you wanted to continue doing this.
The trouble was, after you had enough time to absorb and sink into the scenery, your thoughts naturally drifted to him.
You laid against the sand and closed your eyes. You saw the first time you visited the river, watching him splash his face with water, fitting into the beauty of the valley perfectly.
You did wish things could be different, that you could give in to Anakin and stay here on Naboo, but you each had commitments to people in the galaxy.
Just like a puppy, it wasn’t long before you heard his footsteps following your path and his paws scratching at the door to your mind once again. Thankfully you’d become even quicker on your feet. You smiled to yourself, it was nearly getting funny to deny him.
“Aren’t you tired of that? It’s been nearly a month.” You called out to him as he came closer to you.
“Aren’t you?” Anakin teased, standing above you where you lay.
He was breathtaking from this angle, towering over you. Your eyes locked, and it felt like that first moment by the ship all over again. Everything else faded but him. The planet stopped turning, a warmth spread throughout your body, and you couldn’t look away. After all this time and pestering, you did still, truly want him.
His own breath actually faltered at the sight of you below him. He wanted more than anything just to have you, pull you close enough to feel your breath, your pulse, your lips, your smooth hands on his skin.
You were so beautiful. Hair against the sand, face sweet, radiating with a soft joy. Your arms stretched above your head, elongating your figure, your hands tangled in the grass. He imagined them tangled in his hair, and you smiled as his cheeks turned pink.
You were more than a Queen to him. A goddess. Always perfectly poised, even when you weren’t. Everything you did pleased him. He wanted more.
You were becoming aware of just how deeply you affected him.
“Well, you caught me. You can drag me back now, ruin all my fun.” You joked, holding your hands up and together as though you were waiting for cuffs.
He smiled and shook his head at your antics. If only he could catch you already. You were getter better at blocking him out of your head each day.
He laid on his side next to you in the sand. A little too close for your liking, his arm brushing against your hair.
“I don’t ruin all your fun. I’m just keeping you safe.” He spoke. “It is my job, after all. You really should be with me at all times.” His eyes were always sickeningly sincere, always wearing that stupid slick grin.
“After all this time, you don’t crave a moment alone?” You laughed, looking at him in amazement.
“Why would I? Your company is too sweet. And I believe in fulfilling my duties thoroughly.” He teased, relishing in your laughter.
“Oh, is that so?” You rolled your eyes as you giggled, sitting up and beginning to dust and shake the sand off of you. “And how long did it take you to realize I was gone, oh great protector?”
“I felt you leave.” He admitted in that smooth voice of his, and you turned to look back at him as his tone turned more serious. “I gave you as much time as I could stand.”
You wished you could say the needy look on his face didn’t make your heart ache. But you wouldn’t let him notice. You stood up, slipped your shoes back on and began collecting your things.
“When is Obi-Wan due back? Have you heard from him?”
“No message.” He said, still watching you with that needy look in his eye. Why couldn’t he have you already?
“Aren’t you coming?” You asked when you noticed he never stood up.
“Give me a hand?” He asked, reaching out toward you.
You reached out to grab his hand and help him up. You should’ve known better.
“Anakin!” you gasped as you were pulled down, his arms trapping you against his chest. You held back your laughter, but you couldn’t keep down your smile.
He turned you both over so he was above you, gently pinning your arms down, not enough to hurt, just enough so that you couldn’t move. He would never hurt you. He just wanted to look at you for a bit longer.
Seconds became hours once again as you got lost in each other.
You tried to steady your breathing after all the sudden movement, but it was no use. Not when he was holding you down and looking at you like he worshipped you. His face so close to yours, you could feel his breath fanning over you, his lips dangerously close, they called to you.
You imagined caressing his face with your fingertips, brushing your thumb on his lip, how smooth and plump he’d feel under your gentle hand. You could feel your fingers pulsing at the thought. His eyes closed like he could feel your touch.
You wanted to feel his lips and his breath all over, trailing down and over every inch of your body and drowning you. To see those eyes looking up at you while his tongue pleasured you between your thighs…
Anakin could feel the intensity dripping off you. He was so close to breaking you, he knew it. He just had to get inside you.
You were starting to get too hot. Touching you, pressing up close to you, it was all too much. You had to get him off of you.
“Anakin,” you mumbled, turning your head away from him, resuming time. His eyes opened and he almost looked pained in your peripheral.
He lifted away from you and helped you to your feet.
“I know you want me.” He said boldly, and you nearly reacted.
“Enough.” You said calmly, shaking your head.
“You won’t let me see.”
“You won’t let me be.” You mumbled, beginning the journey back.
“I know you want me.” He repeated. “I don’t know why you’re doing this to me. It isn’t fair.” He followed behind you, his tone characteristically sour and whiny.
You normally only heard him speak in such a way about the Jedi Council. You wouldn’t entertain it pertaining to you. Maybe he didn’t understand why the Council ruled the way it did, but he knew very well why you couldn’t indulge him.
When he realized you wouldn’t respond, he began again. “There’s no use in fighting it any longer. I’ll get to you eventually.”
You sighed, and laughed lightly. He was nothing if not determined. “In your dreams, Skywalker.”
He stopped in his tracks. How had he not thought of that before?
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The rest of the day went by remarkably easily, and quietly. Anakin didn’t bother you at all. For a good portion of the morning you didn’t notice, but after you flashed through your knitting without a single word or a push of the Force toward you, you were almost worried that something had happened to him.
You went to refresh your tea and check on him, and found him on the main room, surfing his datapad, not busy at all.
You took your time preparing your drink, waiting for him to come up beside you, give a slick comment, jiggle the knob of the door to your mind, but he did nothing. He ignored you.
You returned to your room even more confused than before. Was he really that angry that you’d gone off earlier without him? Maybe he’d finally grown tired of pining after you so hopelessly. Or maybe something had gone wrong back on Coruscant, or your home planet. Maybe something was wrong here. It pained you not knowing.
And you’d be damned if you’d be vulnerable enough to ask him why he wasn’t talking to you.
You went to sleep that night still wondering about it. He hardly said a word to you all day long. It couldn’t have been to urgent if he didn’t tell you anything, but that almost seemed worse- that would mean it was personal.
You thought it would be a relief not to be bothered by him, but it was much worse without him. You hated to admit it, but you missed him, a profound yearning, deep in your chest and abdomen.
Your bed felt colder & lonelier tonight.
You closed your eyes and you saw him at the river that morning, holding you close below him, his eyes watching you with the need you felt now. It seared through you, straight to your core. Maker, wanted to feel him next to you.
As you fell into your sleep you could feel yourself there, feel him leaning down, peppering gentle kisses into your neck. His hips pressing and rocking against you in time with the waves on the rocks. You dreamed of wrapping your legs around him, feeling him hardening against your core.
Your legs clenched together and you let out a sigh in your sleep. Your hands gripped the sheets as you dreamt of balling your hands up under his hold on you, you breathed out his name as you dreamt of pleading to touch him. Your longing after a day without Anakin made you weak, needy, desperate.
He had expected it. He had executed it, actually. Anakin wanted to make you feel how he felt, every night for the past 10 years. It nearly killed him in the process, abstaining from you for the day, but he knew it would be worth it in the end.
You were weak now, and he could finally feel how badly you wanted him.
Anakin heard is name fall past your lips as though it were amplified in his ear, echoing and rippling through his body.
He could feel the heat pooling between your thighs, pulling at him, making his heart thump. He could feel the waves of thirst coursing through you, he knew you must have been dripping, and his mouth dried up without you on his tongue. He felt so dangerously dehydrated.
He wanted you to come to him, to wake from your sleep throbbing with need as he had so many nights before, but he couldn’t stand to wait any longer. His cock was painfully hard already, his sheets were torture compared to the certain relief of your warm pillowy insides.
He didn’t care about the Jedi Code, he needed you. And now he knew for certain that you needed him, he had an unrelenting compulsion to fulfill you.
You didn’t hear Anakin enter your room, but you felt his eyes on you, felt the arousal dripping off him and filling the air. Your eyes opened slowly to see him standing beside your bed, looking down at you with dark eyes.
You felt chills as you looked at him. His chest was bare and heaving, his cock prominent in his pants, grown even more stiff at the sight of you.
“Anakin-” you started timidly, but the feeling of his hand grazing up your arm and resting on the back of your neck cut you off.
“Do you want me?” He asked lowly, his thumb brushing you gently. His voice made you quiver. He knew very well that you did. You had a lot of will power, but not enough to resist him before you like this. He just wanted to hear you say it.
“Yes,” you whispered. You hated to be so yielding, but you couldn’t fight it any longer. You knew he must’ve seen your dream. “Please, Anakin.” You reached out with staggered breathing, resting your hand on the tight, hot skin above his pants.
He didn’t say a word, just looked at you. You were exhausted of his depriving you, especially when it was clear that he wanted you badly.
Your hand dipped below his waistline, grasping him over his pants and shuddering at the feel of his hardness. You wanted a reaction out of him, but it seemed to have affected you more. You outright whimpered as you gripped him. Your mouth watered, your cunt felt offensively empty, something overcame you.
You sat upright eagerly, eyes drunk with lust and slickness sticking to your thighs, delighted to finally touch him.
His breath went from heavy to shaky, fighting to keep his composure. He grew thirstier by the millisecond, eager to see what you’d do, so desperate to be pleasured by you, to see you in your entirety.
You pushed his pants off his hips and moaned as he sprung free, thick & throbbing & leaking. His dick was just as stunning as the rest of him.
Already he was under your thumb again, your clothed body making him feel extra bare. The trance you were in as you looked at him sent shocks through his body.
His hand tangled in your hair, squeezing gently to get your attention. Your eyes met his and you could see he was just as weak & desperate as you were.
He nearly came on the spot when you looked up at him, legs clenched together, surely preserving a dripping nirvana under your nightgown.
He’d had enough.
Anakin brought your lips to his and kissed you passionately. It just spurred you on more. You whined into his mouth. His plump lips against yours made your head spin and your cunt call out for him.
Your hand that wasn’t in his hair finally drifted toward his cock, wrapping a tender hand around it and spreading the precum over his tip. He felt so hard, it lit you on fire. Anakin groaned into your mouth, the hand on the back of your neck tightened.
Your hand on him was bliss, just as soft and skilled as he imagined, but he had to stop it. He was sensitive to the new and heavily anticipated feeling, and he wanted to last long enough to get inside you.
He tore your hand away in a harsh grip and pulled away from the kiss. You opened your mouth to protest but then his lips were on your neck and all you could do was sigh.
“I need to see you,” He said into your neck, and you thought you may melt into a puddle.
He began to push up your nightgown, fingers brushing up your thighs, squeezing into you to feel your every curve. Suddenly he was kissing and squeezing you more roughly, getting more worked up at the feel of your naked body and the idea of finally seeing you bare.
Anakin pulled away from your neck to strip the dress over your head. His face was so pink and flustered as he drank you in, you thought he’d faint.
“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed, his hands coming up to rest on your waist, then sliding up to cup your breasts, gently squeezing your nipple, making you gasp.
“Maker, you’re so beautiful,” He repeated, bringing his lips back to yours before moving back to your neck, and further down your body. Your whole body buzzed and sparked in the path of his kisses, electricity hyperfocused where you needed him most.
He dropped to his knees in front of you, level with your core, and your hands tangled in his hair to keep you upright. He went into that deep, intimidating focus he often did, his eyes glazed over as he spread your thighs with his thumbs. He moaned at how you glistened.
His arms came around your back to hold you up as his tongue finally pressed against your clit and made you gasp. He pushed his tongue between your folds and licked you up, sucking your clit into his mouth as he reached the top.
Anakin’s tongue entered you and circled you and sucked you so well your head was swimming. You couldn’t stop the sounds that fell from your mouth, gasping and whining wantonly.
He would tease you with the tip of his tongue, then press it wide and flat and wet against you, careful to please and light every nerve.
Your legs grew weak and he lowered you on your back gently, his mouth never leaving you. He ate you like a man starved, diligent as ever.
One of his hands returned to your breast, and the other came up to your cunt and made you clench around his tongue in anticipation.
He gently pressed his finger into your wet hole and moaned at how the softness enveloped him, his cock twitching in the air. He focused his tongue on your clit while he fucked his finger into you, and you thought you might explode.
“Ah, Anakin,” you gasped, tensing around his finger. His mouth left you and you whined.
He kissed your thigh, adding a second finger to distract you from the loss of his mouth and stretch you out. His cock yearned for you as he watched his fingers disappear inside you, your face contorted in the pleasure he had given you.
“You’re so perfect,” He spoke, nearly overwhelmed at finally having all of you. He cursed and groaned your name and you groaned in return. He leaned over you and you could feel his erection on your thigh, making you gush around his fingers. Your hips ground against his hand, chasing your nearing orgasm.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” He whispered into your neck, shuddering as your eager whines filled his ear. He pulled his fingers out of you and gripped your thigh, throbbing at the sound of your sobs, knowing he’d make you feel better soon.
“Please, Anakin,” You whimpered, digging your nails into his back. Your whole body throbbed so violently it scared you. Your legs wrapped around him and pulled him close and tight, begging him in any way you could.
He entered you swiftly, your slick hole opened up for him easily, but his thickness still gave you a thrilling stretch. You both moaned, gripping each other tightly as you finally felt sweet relief. He already felt himself ready to burst as he settled into you, breathing deeply to control himself.
Anakin filled you to the brim and you couldn’t help but quiver around him. His mouth and his fingers had worked you up so well that you wouldn’t need much more to tip you over the edge.
“Oh, Ani,” You sighed, trying to catch your breath, “You feel so good already.” He moaned at that.
“Please move.” You begged, desperate to feel more of him.
Anakin was still dangerously sensitive, but he couldn’t deny you. His hands gripped the sheets and your thigh in a white-knuckled grip as he began to move.
He slid out and then back in to you so slowly you felt every inch and couldn’t hold back your whimpers, your stomach twisting into a tight knot and your cunt fluttering.
He did this again, and again, fucking you just right; slowly, deeply, passionately, forcefully, burying himself inside you to the hilt and dragging his hips into yours, as if he were molding your walls to fit him perfectly.
His moans became just as free as your own, filling your ear with gasps and grunts that made your whole body tense and inch closer and closer to cumming around him.
Your pussy gushed loudly with his leisurely pace. Everything was intensified, hot sweaty skin fusing together, sounds in sync, spirits beaming.
Anakin teetered right on the brink, the way your pussy swallowed him made his cock jump wildly inside you, but he needed to make you cum first.
“Cum for me,” He groaned into your ear, angling his hips so that he ground into your clit with every harsh roll of his hips, making you cry out.
“Please, I need you to cum for me, please,” He started to whine, chanting and pleading, his thrusts picking up pace and getting sloppier and harder.
His begging & the feeling of his cock hitting you in just the right, sweet, punishing, way made you snap.
“Ah, Ani- I’m cumming!” You shrieked, clinging to him with your arms around his neck and your legs squeezing around him as your orgasm hit you, flashing white hot, sending euphoric surges through your entire body.
The second he felt you flutter around him Anakin plugged himself deep inside you, his hips stuttering & grinding into yours, filling you so deep with his cock and his cum that your breath caught in your throat, cutting off your cries and replacing them with his own soft praises.
You felt him twitching and leaking as your walls clenched around him, seeing stars as he gave you shallow thrusts to work you through it. You could feel yourself extra slick as he fucked his cum into you, making you shiver.
You heaved and sighed as you came down from your high, pleasure dissipating and quickly being replaced with a lazy, giddy feeling. A grin came over your face and you turned your head to see him watching you, as always.
“Oh, Anakin,” you breathed, a hand coming up to cup his cheek as you looked at him with delight. For the first time in his life Anakin was speechless, the Force inside him multitudes lighter than before, basking in the happiness of having you at last.
You pressed your lips against his and kissed him sweetly, now full of love instead of lust, just as his eyes were when you pulled away to look at him.
Anakin pulled out of you and shifted just slightly to lay directly next you, his skin still connected to yours at many points. Now that he had you, he’d never let you go.
You were just as captivating as ever, lazing in your post-orgasmic glow, now able to embrace how happy you were to see him. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.
“Tell me you’ll have me again.” He said, knowing very well that you would, just wanting to hear you say it. In your comfortably vulnerable states, you could sense he wanted to hear more.
You kissed him gently once again, just shortly. “I love you, Anakin.” You said against his lips, with a smile. “I’d have you anytime.”
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2K notes · View notes
cod-dump · 2 months
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🔫 i demand a immediate continuation of teen!au roach!!!! ((only if you feel up to it and have time if not im sorry for *bugging* you))
Roach (teen!Ghost au)
———
It was a strange morning. Nik was nowhere in sight and John was quietly preparing breakfast.
Farah was the first down, wondering where Nik was and why the coffee pot wasn’t on. Kyle was down next, half asleep and unaware of the changes as he sat at the table and slumped over. Farah wouldn’t say anything, just stare at John. When Simon came down to let Riley out into the garden, he noticed Nik’s absence.
“Where’s Nik?”
John slowed his movements before he started making plates, “Something… came up last night.”
Kyle perked up awake, Simon’s anxiety spreading to him. John’s silence made it worse, which he realized, so he quickly started to explain in order to calm them.
“He’s fine, he’s actually in the bedroom.”
“Did you two have a fight?” Farah asked, concern deep in her eyes. She had plenty of experiences of fighting parents.
“No, no fight. Just Nik’s usual antics and… well, I need to call Kate.”
They all stared, looking at each other as if the other might know more to what was happening. John gave them all plates before he made another. When he walked past them all to go upstairs, that’s when their suspicion peaked. He didn’t eat in bed, neither did Nik.
“Is someone up there?” Kyle muttered, unable to find the will to eat.
“Has to be.”
Simon was very quiet, staring at where their father disappeared to. Everything was so out of place that Riley came into the room. He was being trained to not be in there when they ate but he was confused with the lack of the usual breakfast chaos. Simon just passed him a piece of toast, the pup taking it gently before he ran off gleefully with his spoils.
An hour would pass and the three barely ate even half of their food before they heard someone coming downstairs. John re-enters the kitchen, standing in the threshold as if he was meant to prevent them from coming through to the hall.
“Kids, we… have a guest. He’s staying until Kate can come and sort out his situation.”
Their attention was directed to a very happy Riley, who was trying to play with someone. They assumed it was Nik until they saw tiny hands pet him.
They collectively gasped, Farah pointing past John.
“Child.”
“Yes-“
“You have another child-“
John sighs, “Nik found him.”
Kyle had leaned down from his chair in order to get a better angle and see the kid in the hall. They made eye contact and the boy abandoned playing with Riley and ran to into the living room. There was a grunt and quiet Russian. He ran to Nik.
Simon blinks after hearing Nik try to comfort the child, looking at his father with wide eyes, “When I said I liked being a big brother, I meant that as I like Kyle and Tommy.”
John glares and Simon looks down. He sighs after a moment, knowing Simon didn’t mean it to be rude and was definitely in shock of a child becoming a surprise housemate.
“He’s not staying long. I… Kate is going to see to making sure he goes to someone who can care for him. She’ll probably call a friend of hers to help.”
The boys look at each other, Farah making a face as she thinks. No more words would be exchanged on the subject between them, at least not to John. They were quiet and made themselves scarce, allowing their young house guest to have space.
The boy had been with them a little under twenty four hours and he had not spoken a word. They had no idea what his name was and where Nik found him didn’t give any answers. They didn’t know how old he was other than he was a small boy, they didn’t know if he could read or write considering he never reacted to the note pads or them gently asking if he could write his name.
They knew nothing about him and John couldn’t help but worry. This little boy, found by a group of thugs that were probably speaking a language he didn’t understand. John wondered what he had gone through, what he had seen.
“When did Kate say she’ll be here?”
Simon was attempting to befriend the nameless boy, five or six hours after he and the others learned of him. John gave him some credit despite his approach being similar to what one would do with a stray dog. The boy wasn’t very fond of letting him get close and would dart away if he made one move out of place.
He was determined, he’ll give him that.
“Later tonight, I believe. She has to wait for Alex to get out of band practice before she heads over.”
“Nerd,” Simon muttered, remaining on the floor as he watched Riley make fast friends with their house guest.
John sighed, he couldn’t handle another kid. He adored his sons and Farah, but to add another child to the mix? One that is younger and at a different point in his life than the others? It seemed too much but… he had a hard time turning away those in need. And even though the kid wasn’t trusting of him, he was in need.
———
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kiss-me-muchoo · 9 months
Text
𝐃𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚 || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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Do you want a baby? part one || Suddenly, we have a baby part two || part three
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ Miguel and you finally have a baby. Your little family attends Pavitr’s party. Things are not okay though . During Pavitr’s party, Miguel and you finally explode and everything is a chaos that night in Mumbattan.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ this is long, Miguel has men postpartum depression, grumpy! x sunshine!, age gap (legal), implied short reader, mentions of pregnancy and breastfeeding. NO PROOFREAD!
𝐀/𝐍_ <3 Indian culture and religions, inspired by M.I.A’s/ KSHMR songs, listen to Legendary Lovers from my playlist :)
♪ ♫ my miguel playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)
One night, a young marriage lies on the wife's bed after a warm shower and a light dinner. Her round belly is getting more uncomfortable, but they happily wait for their little bundle of joy to arrive.
“Miguel?” you ask softly. He hums and looks down at you.
“Did you ever imagine you would be a father again?” it took him by surprise and pulled him out of reality. The image of Gabriella instantly appears.
However, his hand on your bump brings him back. He smiles, taking your growing belly with both hands, rubbing it up and down.
“Before you, not really. But the moment I married you, I kinda suspected it,” you giggle. Miguel smiles again before kissing your head, but you leave him thinking about the issue.
Somehow he wants to fill that void of his lost daughter. And while he knew he already had everything, trauma unconsciously haunted him.
“Do you want more kids?” He asks, and he hopes you say yes.
“I don’t know. As long we are okay, and the babies come healthy, I could have ten… Or just this little one,” you admit pressing your hand on his.
The man liked your answer, but the feeling of nervousness and a mix of panic and insecurity slowly started to grow bigger.
Miguel O’Hara was looking at his wife feeding his baby daughter; Magda O’Hara was about to turn five months old, and although she ate like a champion, she was still a tiny human.
You were sitting in the cafeteria, a lilac blanket covering your chest and the baby. Your eyes looked tired, your suit had a visible baby burp on the right shoulder, and your hair was very curly. However, there was a big smile on your face. A soft blush that made you sparkle and send the most motherly smile to your daughter.
Miguel smiles too, but he’s still watching, hiding behind a wall.
“Are you avoiding your wife and baby?” Lyla pops out of nowhere. Her heart-shaped sunglasses judge Miguel. He sighs, frowning at the AI.
“No.”
“I think you are,” she pushes.
“I think I’m not.”
“You are…” Miguel huffs in annoyance.
“NO. I being NOT,” Lyla shrugs, leaning to glimpse you and Magda. You are still feeding the baby.
“You know? One out of ten men get PPND after their baby is born” he had an idea of what the annoying AI was trying to imply; he wanted to ignore her for some seconds, but soon the worry assaulted him.
“What?”
“Paternal Postnatal Depression,” Miguel sighed. But then remembered how much he loved Magdalena, her round cheeks and dark hair like his, her tiny hands wrapped around his thumb every night. Then you, the kisses you spread over his face every time you greet him, his intense desire for you even when you claimed your body was slowly returning to what it was.
He wasn’t depressed; he was fine.
“Nonsense, Lyla. I’m fine” his tone was firm, confident, and intimidating. So the AI would not push it further.
“As you say, boss,” and with that, she disappeared.
When Miguel returned to see you and Magda, the cafeteria was full of spiders with lunch breaks, but you and the baby were gone.
Your boots with heels sound across the reports room of the HQ. Jess turns at the sound and smiles after seeing you. With a little wave, you pace toward her.
“Look at you, girly pop. If I didn’t know, I would say you have never been pregnant,” she explains with a big smile.
“Almost five months, Jess. I can’t believe it…” you admit, thinking about sweet baby Magda and her adorable yawns daily.
“I know, girl. My baby boy is almost a year now. Time flies…” Both of you nod. You start helping her with the reports.
Now you had been taking more missions and were happy to be back at work.
As you slide the pile of papers, Miguel stomps inside the room.
���What are you doing here?” He asks after spotting you beside Jess.
“Filling reports?” you don’t look at him, your eyes focused on the papers.
“You should be with Magda” His tone annoys you, finally pulling your eyes away from the papers and focusing on your husband.
“I spent the whole morning with her. She’s on daycare with Mayday and Peter” He rolled his eyes. And without another word, he sprint out of the room, leaving you very confused.
Jess kept staring at the door, where Miguel left but then turned to look at you.
“How has Miguel been dealing with parenthood?” you sigh.
“He’s amazing. He makes sure everything is fine with Magda and me. He also makes time to spend together, and…well, now I notice he’s stressed” Jess nodded, placing a new pile of paper on some shelves and opening a virtual screen to check the anomalies that had been reported.
“Maybe he’s…depressed?” her implication makes you break the focus on the report.
Having a baby was something big; you were okay, you felt amazing, just tired, but you felt healthy. However, even when you thought you had psyched Miguel that he was going to be a father again (with numerous methods. Like brief late-night talking, books, blowjobs, and fantastic sex). Maybe it wasn’t enough.
“You think he has it, right?”
“Maybe. Even if I tried to warn him, maybe…Yes.”
“I’ve known him since college, y/n. He’s a good man who loves you and that gorgeous baby girl so much. But he’s Miguel, and his damaged side will never leave.” It would never stop to amaze you how much Miguel changed after the events of Gabriella and her universe collapsing. You had to meet him just after that happened, so you would never know the man he was before that.
“However, you are his new chapter and a new chance to be better again. Just try to talk to him…” Her hand on your shoulder makes you feel supported. You smile, nodding at her.
“Thanks, Jess. I highly appreciate it.”
“Of course, girl. Now let’s finish these damn papers to have a break” a little less worried about Miguel, both Jess, and you had a good moment laughing and finishing the reports.
“Dear empress?” You roll your eyes, turning to your right to spot Lyla.
“Why do you call me like that?” You ask, laughing, chewing at your burger. Once again, a meal with your husband’s mask imprinted on the bun was a good idea.
“You are my boss’s wife, and Magda is the legitimate heir to the HQ” Again, you laugh. Lyla was funny and sweet; you really liked her and the dynamic she had with Miguel.
“To be an AI on earth-928, you are using medieval terms, Lyla,” she giggles.
“No, but Peter called. Magda woke up and demanded your company” You can’t even find yourself mad or annoyed. Your baby needed you after three hours separated.
Thankfully, you had taken a shower after the mission you had. Magda couldn’t be held with toxic particles and lizard’s spit.
“I’m on my way,” Lyla pretends to high-five you before opening the door of the balcony area where you were eating.
Soft cries flood the big daycare room. Lyla and you exchange looks before she speaks.
“Yikes, that’s my cue, bye bye” With that, she disappears.
When you open the door, you see Peter Pavitr, Gwen, and Miles showing baby Magda some toys to stop her from crying. Mayday is beside her, sitting, looking confused.
The closer you look, the better you can see Magda in a short sleeves onesie and her matted hair hidden under a little flower diadem.
“Oh, look, Magda. Mama is here,” Peter tells your kid. She’s very tiny, yet active to be four months old. Your eyes light up after taking her in your arms.
“Hi Bebé, I missed you so much,” Magda coos and plays with her little fists.
“Thank you so much for entertaining her, guys,” you tell your friends. They say it’s nothing. But you feel loved and welcomed, how well they treated your baby, and how much effort they made to include her even at her young age.
“It’s nothing. But… now you owe me in particular,” Pavitr says with a smile. You wonder what he wants. But then, he pulls out a pink envelope with orange and golden details and hands it to you.
“Happy Diwali season…” Immediately, you remember the party he mentioned months ago when you were still pregnant.
“Pavitr! This is so sweet, thank you” he offered a hug, which you accepted.
Few people dared to spread love like anything, and Pav was one of them.
“I want to see your little family there. And all of your too,” the guy threats smiley. Instant happiness succumbs you because you can’t wait to be at that party.
It was rare when you had the opportunity to hang out with every one of your HQ friends. Jess, Peter, and Mayday are the most recurrent since Miguel was very close to them as they were to you.
“I’ll bring my best clothes, man,” Peter calls before Pavitr leaves through a portal.
“I’m so excited!” You squeal along, Gwen.
Peter rolls his eyes, taking care of Mayday.
“We need some traditional dresses,” you comment.
“Oh, and we have to get Mayday and Magda matching dresses” The thought makes you die out of cuteness. Even Peter seems happy, claiming he will take many pictures if MJ can’t make it.
It has been a long time since you had a big party to attend.
The parties with your family were small gatherings where Miguel would likely get drunk with your father. Your mother and grandma would help you with Magda, and you had to be active.
So yeah, you were excited to celebrate Diwali with your friends and family.
That night, you are cooking some tray of peaches with cream muffins and jericallas, Miguel’s favorite desserts. Magda is sleeping in the pink carrier you bought for her and you (cause Miguel refused to wear every single day that carrier he got a grey one).
Dinner was quiet, which was weird in the past, but slowly grew normal.
You had wanted to ask Miguel about his possible PPND, but he always brushed it off before you could start.
Learning to look at the oven, there are five minutes left. You go to Magda’s room to put her in the crib.
You take some minutes to see her. She’s a carbon copy of Miguel. The sun-kissed skin, the dark hair, and you suspected she would have his spider abilities rather than yours. Oh, and her round puffy cheeks that you constantly filled with kisses.
You loved being a mother.
You preferred your own house on your earth; it was smaller, cozier, and homey.
And Miguel’s place was… an expansive apartment with minimalist colors and designs. It was still home… but not the same.
Still, you loved your family. No matter where you were.
So you clean the kitchen as the muffins cool off.
Miguel spent the whole evening locked in his lab. Claiming that he was finishing a new device for the HQ. Which you believed at the beginning, but soon you felt like he didn’t want to spend time with you, Magda, leaving the baby and yourself to play and read alone.
So you remembered what Jess said. Maybe Miguel was depressed or having a mix of emotions after Magda arrived.
Slowly, you open the door of the lab. He’s sitting, back facing you. He looks massive, being slightly hunched to work.
“Corazón…” you call him; he doesn’t flinch.
Miguel sees through the corner of his eye your silhouette, holding something.
A little plate, a jericalla, and a muffin slide in front of his face.
The smell of peaches and cream cheese invaded him. The small was enough to set him in a better mood.
“I made your favorites…” he knows he’s not the best husband material. But he was constantly irritated, and the last he wanted was to take it out on you or Magda. He would kill himself if something like that happened.
“Oh, muñeca. You didn’t have to “
“Yes, I had to… Miguel?… Are you okay?” You ask shyly, honestly scared of his reaction.
“What do you mean?”
“Lately… you’ve been weird. Is the work too much? I can take more; the master's program is basically finished. I have time, and with Magda-“ you want to find an answer before he even answers.
“Magda should be your priority.”
“She is. But I’m concerned about you too.”
“I’m fine.” You sigh. It wouldn’t be easy, you knew that.
“Just… you must know you can tell me anything, amor. I’m your wife…” his tense shoulders relax when you hug him from behind.
“I know that, mami.” A little smile peaks on your face, so you lean down to kiss your husband’s cheek.
He giggles before capturing your hands to give you a proper kiss.
“We love you so much, Miguel,” you add one last time.
“I love you and Magda too” Another little peck, and you're out of his lab.
Only that you tried to ignore the pain in your throat as tears threatened to spill as you lay in bed, waiting for him to come.
The sound of a phone taking pictures hits Miguel. When he enters the main bedroom of your house, he sees you in a traditional Indian gown in hot pink and orange colors, along with gold details.
He can’t help but think that his wife is perfect and that you gave him the best present ever; a daughter.
“Look at you, Magda!. You look gorgeous, my love,” she coos, stretching in the bed while chewing her feet. It makes you laugh, and Miguel feels relaxed.
You are taking pictures of Magda, and when Miguel gets closer, he sees his daughter in a colorful linen dress.
You turn to face your husband. Surprised to see him smiling.
“Look, Miguel. She’s totally ready for this party,” he finds himself sighing.
“Do we really need to go?” If you had to be honest, things with Miguel weren’t their best.
He continued to act desperate, less soft, and constantly irritated.
Last night, it didn’t work out.
He was fucking you on your back, but he was being rough. And not the type of wild you liked. It was rough where. You felt like a rag doll like it wasn’t lovemaking.
“Mig-Miguel. Can… Can we stop?” He had been so close, seconds away from painting your walls with cum. But you asked him to stop. That never happened.
“…Why?” He asked, confused and slightly angered.
“You’re hurting me…” it tears him. But the irritating demon creeped out for worse.
“Right, sorry. It won’t happen again,” without another word, he slipped out of you, locking you inside the bathroom and leaving you heavily confused.
Before last night, things had been like a rollercoaster, with ups and downs. They only didn’t make sense to you because you couldn’t understand your husband. He was taking care of pushing you away, and you were starting to feel hurt.
“It’ll be fun; it could help us to have a little escapade” he knows you want things to be better. But it seemed like the more you tried, the more he got frustrated. He was starting to believe Lyla about having PPND. And it scares him so much, already afraid of hurting you and Magda. So he had been a little secluded to avoid that.
In his mind, it was a good idea. But sure, it was not the best option.
“Fine. Do you want me to wear something specific?” His question made you pout.
“Just this…” you hand him a linen shirt in a cream tone. He sighed but surprised you by taking Magda in his arms and leaning to snuggle with you. Her tiny lips latched onto your neck, searching for milk, and Miguel peppered your cheeks with kisses. You started laughing at the tickles.
“Miguel! Stop!” You cry, laughing.
“Tell Mama she looks beautiful, Magda,” feeling her matted hair, your warms lips.
Of course, there were still some good moments. Like having a moment together, the three of you. Where there was only love in the air.
Miguel knew he had to change. He couldn’t lose his family.
Not again…
Whenever there was an anomaly on Pavitr’s earth, you would gladly stay longer than necessary. The colorful and loud city was always a sight.
But seeing the party he had spent months discussing was still a surprise.
There was a big rooftop with stone railings and details. Many plants partially covered the floor and every surface available.
And the colorful decorations in fuchsia and purple tones were breathtaking.
The Festival of Lights was the most exciting part for you. It reminded you of the movie of Tangled and how much you loved that movie.
The whole meaning of Diwali was beautiful, and having the opportunity to celebrate it with the locals, with your family, was even more special.
“This is beautiful…” you mumble, a big smile growing as you carry Magda. She seems attracted to the music and people talking around.
“Miguel! y/n!” Both of you turn around to see Peter and Mayday.
“AWW!” You let out once your daughter is reunited with Mayday. Both have the same linen dress, only that Mayday has her hair in a messy bun, and Magda… well, she was losing hair.
“They look adorable, Peter” Miguel says nothing, but he wants to smile so badly.
“I know; MJ took a whole album of her.”
“I can bet…” you add smiley. Peter looks at Miguel, and the tall and broad man looks annoyed, which makes him sigh.
“You look good, man,” Peter tries to soothe the strange air.
“Thanks.” It’s flat and cold. You are starting to feel anxious about Miguel and his consent mood swings.
“Man, you have to be happy. You are here with your gorgeous baby and wife. Smile…” You are surprised and thankful for your friend, not expecting him to speak.
To your dismay, Pavitr appears to say hi, but it’s not the best moment.
“Not now, Peter. You don’t know anything; stay away from this. It’s my family,” you frown, not liking Miguel’s tone. You and Pavitr exchanged looks before you turned to face your angry husband.
“Miguel, What’s wrong with you? Peter says it for good” he looks down at you, shocked to hear that you are not on his side.
“You’re letting him discuss our problems now?” To make the moment more stressful, Jess comes too; she looks confused at the scene but soon understands what is happening.
“What he said is obvious to everyone, Miguel. You’ve been off; we want you to be yourself again.”
“I am okay!” some people stare when your husband raises his voice.
“Miguel…” Jess warns him, hoping to avoid a bigger problem.
You came to a limit. All the weeks of dealing with an unstable husband, taking care of Magda on your own, working your part as a head of the spider society.
Indeed, you didn’t care that your friends were hearing.
“No, you’re not. You have been avoiding us!. We are your family, Miguel. If you weren’t sure of having a wife and kid again, you should have said it sooner.”
Ohh… everyone grows quiet. Peter holds your shoulder with his free hand, and Pavitr can’t believe what is happening.
“Don’t…” it’s all he says, but you cut him off.
“Maybe you’ve found someone else. Cause you’re rejecting Magda and clearly me. You don’t come home early; it certainly looks as if you were fucking someone else” Your baby is getting fussy, and your fears grow the more you talk. Now only waiting for his response.
“Yeah? Do you really think that low of me? Maybe I should go and make it real!” his words tear you a little. Making it impossible to not start tearing up.
Miguel realized what he had said when he heard Magda crying.
And he looked at you again; you were also crying.
He’s so embarrassed.
“Please take her for some minutes…” you say, handing Magda to Jess. The woman nods with a sad face.
And everyone looks at how you leave the party.
“I’ll go find her; please let me…” Pavitr tells Miguel, but he only stands there looking like an asshole.
“You’re right…” Miguel tells Peter, with his back facing him.
“I just want you and her to be happy.…” your husband nods, and Peter takes it as an apology and understanding of him.
“Can we talk?” Jess asks. Miguel knows he’s in trouble.
Both adults walk through the people to the most secluded area. Which seems to be a little garden.
“Do you want this baby?” Jess asks him, referring to the sleepy Magda in her arms.
“Or was it just for the lust of getting y/n pregnant?” It’s straight to the point, and it terrifies Miguel.
“Jess, you know I’ve always wanted a family,” he answers calmly.
“Then why the drama?. Everything seemed fine the whole pregnancy.”
“Lyla was right. I think I have PPND…” Jess sighed in relief because at least Miguel had an idea of his problem.
“That’s what I thought.” She replied.
“And now with this…I don’t wanna lose my girls” To hear Miguel in a vulnerable state was unusual. His eyes went straight to Magda. He walked closer to stroke her cheek.
He felt like a monster for what he did.
“You won’t lose them, Miguel. Everyone knows this baby, and y/n are beyond in love with you” Magdalena was his gift. And Miguel would always thank you for that.
The least he could do was be a supportive father and good husband.
“Go and talk with y/n. Then we can enjoy this peaceful party. It is almost time for the Festival of Lights” Miguel remembers how excited you were to see the lights. He worries that he won’t find you in time. Jess places a hand on his shoulder.
“Go. I’ll take care of Magda with Peter” The exit is crowded, so he hurries.
The streets are packed, people are celebrating, and some fireworks start.
Miguel ventures into the busy streets in hopes of finding you.
When Pavitr finds you, you are sitting on the long stairs that were the entrance of a temple. Your knees are pressed to your chest, your face hiding, and he can hear you sobbing.
“Oh… y/n,” he says, sitting beside you and hugging you. You are startled, but soon you are calmed to see your friend.
“I’m sorry for ruining the vibe of your party, Pav” He shakes his head, smiling.
“Nah, first of all, it’s my parent’s party. Second of all, nobody noticed what happened.”
“This was supposed to be a beautiful night. Not the start of the end of my marriage.”
“It’s not the end of your marriage, y/n. I can read people very well. Miguel and you hold an excellent dharma” You lift your head, looking at your friend. He offers you a kind smile that makes you feel comfortable.
“Call me ignorant, but what is specifically dharma?”
“It means a lot of things in my religion. But in this case, it means you and your husband have good energy. The connection is strong; there’s a balance that holds the love. And all of that is what Magda receives. This is just a bad season…” you analyze his words, trying to accept them.
“Then why do I feel like it’s not my fault? I feel that he needs to apologize…”
“Oh, because he does need to apologize. What he said was wrong. Even if he’s the one having a bad emotional moment, he caused this” It’s incredible how easy it was for Pavitr to understand when he was still a late teenager, only a couple of years younger than you, but wiser.
“Thank you, Pavitr,” he nods, hugging you again.
“Now come back, please. Gwen and Miles have been looking for you.”
“I’ll go. I need some minutes.”
He smiles one last time before leaving you alone again.
You sigh, and more tears spill, but quietly.
For a second, you don’t want to think about anything; you stare a the street in front of you.
The people laugh, scream, and look happy. A lot of them have the little lights in their hands already.
You try to savor the moment, so you sigh and breathe with your eyes closed, letting more tears run down your cheeks.
You could either fight for you and the love of your life and daughter… or move on, even if it was early to say it.
You don’t come to an answer because when you open your eyes, Miguel is on the stairs, going straight to you.
You’re startled, unconsciously standing up. You know you can’t enter the temple but you want to be away from Miguel.
He’s fast enough to stop you, grabbing your forearm.
“No. Not right now, Miguel,” you say firmly, with a broken voice.
“Wait. Please, bonita…” he hates to see you like that.
Finding you alone, crying on those stairs when everyone was happy and celebrating, was painful to him. Even more when he was the cause of it.
“I don’t want this night to be over with us fighting, please.”
You don’t say anything. You stare at him as he stays some steps under; you have him straight face to face.
“I didn’t mean anything I said before. I would never find someone else. Never, y/n” You remember his words.
Maybe I should go and make it real.
“That’s how it starts…” you say coldly. He shakes his head, grabbing both of your cheeks.
“No. No, mi amor… I only have eyes for you, and that’s how it’ll remain for the rest of my life,” he means it. Miguel fell in love with you one summer, months after meeting you. And from the day he accepted he was in love, the feeling never changed; it only increased.
“I must have… men postpartum depression” Immediately, you’re relieved. Because you had your suspicions, knowing that was the reason for the little downgrade of marriage soothed your worries about him cheating.
“Why have you always avoided it?.” You ask him. He only sighs, his hands leaving your cheeks to land on your shoulders.
“I don’t know. I guess I just… didn’t want to believe it?” you know he’s telling the truth. Miguel never lied; if he ever did, he would never babble. But he was looking defeated, showing vulnerability.
“It was stupid. I should have told you… agh, ¿soy un pendejo, no?” You nod, looking at him in the eye. Savoring his embarrassment, but not in a toxic way. You appreciated that he was recognizing his errors.
“We’ve talked about… Gabriella and what happened. But, now that Magda is finally here… I got scared again” It’s inevitable to not grow fond of him. He was guilty but also a victim of his own mind. And it was your role to help him.
“We’re not going anywhere, Miguel. I Can assure you that this family will last forever. Because I won’t let anything happen,” sometimes Miguel forgot that he married a brave young woman. Who showed him what he thought was lost in the world. And gave him a daughter to heal his past and grow better.
“I’d be lost without you and Magdalena, corazón. I’m so sorry for making you think otherwise.”
“And I’m sorry for not pressuring you to get help,” he smiles.
“No, y/n. You’ve done nothing wrong but being the most lovely and perfect mother and wife ever,” you blush. And Miguel will never stop loving his power to make you feel loved and blushed.
“Will you forgive me?”
“Are you going to the doctor?” He nods, so you sigh.
“And promise that this will NEVER ever happen again, Miguel O’Hara. Swear it…” he chuckles, but he knows it’s serious.
“I swear, this will never happen again. I swear it for my love for my wife and daughter”.
You smile, and that’s all Miguel needs to move his hands one last time. To your waist, to pull you closer.
As he hugs you, he enjoys the smell of your hair. That watermelon shampoo you loved to use. He’s at home.
“How can I begin with my apology?” He asks.
“Just hold me. Never… never, Miguel. Never let me go” his eyes get watery, and immediately his hands find their way to hold you, brush your hips, and lay his head on top of yours.
“I’m never letting go of the woman that saved my life” Tears flow across your face, but a smile grows too. No matter Miguel’s walls' height, you had all the power to crash them, and for the best.
“I love you, bonita,” you nod, sobbing and giggling simultaneously. Squeezed in his arms, you lift your head and smash his lips.
It’s warm, slow, and sweet. Both of you have flashbacks of the first kiss you shared. And it fueled the love, making the kiss even more adorable.
“I love you too. So, so much…” Between every so, you kiss his cheeks. It tingles him, so he laughs.
“Stop it, Nena” For some seconds, you stare at each other in silence, feeling the love slowly returning to reign.
You are thankful for having a husband like him. Someone who had problems like everyone else but would always stand up for his family and try to make everything better.
“Hear me out. I’ll never be able to give you back, Gabriella. But Magda and I will love and cherish you for her. This has been a big change for us, never forget that, Miguel” Magda was his light, just like you were the dawn he enjoyed every day. But the dread of his past wasn’t ready to leave yet. Nothing would compare to the time he had with Gabriella, but nothing would change the fact that she was gone.
“I’ll get over that someday. But now I have my girls, and it’s perfect. Simply perfect…” there was something about you that Miguel wouldn’t trade for anything. You gave him happiness, comfort, and a daughter.
The canon never warned him that you would appear, yet, there you were, willing to listen and help him. Even after all…
“I like the sound of that…. I can schedule an appointment with Doctor Spider-Man. He knows everything…”
“Yeah, that would be fine. I also think we should have a second honeymoon” Your eyes widen.
“What? Really?”
The first honeymoon was a fever dream. Almost a month in Oaxaca, in a boutique historic hotel, and fantastic food, outside activities, and… tons of sex. Thankfully you were cautious with protection, cause otherwise, Magda would have been a honeymoon baby.
“Yeah. Or we could have our first family trip. Magda is young enough to still make it pass as a second honeymoon” his playful tone makes you aware of what he meant, and it burns your cheeks.
“I’m also sorry about what happened last time we were…”
“I know,” you quickly answer.
“I would never waste the opportunity again. If I could go back in time, I would have apologized better and rewarded you with a big orgasm,” you laugh, punching his rock-hard chest.
“Miguel, shut up!. We’re at the entrance of a temple” he looks with curiosity and realizes it is true.
“Shit. Sorry… okay. Can we go back to the party?” You nod, and you gladly take it when he offers his hand.
When you make it back. The Festival of Lights is starting. Jess hurries and looks between you and him.
“Everything alright?” You nod.
“Thank you so much, Jess,” she says. It’s nothing, handing you a smiley Magda, who happily coos at you and Miguel.
The man smiles at her, kisses her hair, and takes her little hand.
“Oh, I got some perfect spots,” she adds. The balcony's edge is where a lake looks like a mirror with lights.
Peter, Hobie, Gwen, and Miles gather with you and your family.
But Pavitr leans closer.
“I told you it was all about the dharma you two hold,” the young man says, pointing at you and Michel.
Your husband frowns, confused.
“Dharma?”
“I’ll explain it later, man,” Pavitr answers smiley, leaving.
Miguel takes Magda in his arms, and he feels better; the light weight of his daughter and your head resting on his bicep was everything he needed as everyone watched the lights go up and illuminate the sky.
It was time to let go of his past at all. His present was right in his arms, and you were right.
As he would fight to keep his family, Miguel knew you would too, and that was a lot to say.
___________________________________
Sends ideas / requests 4 Miguel. I’m planning something based on hummingbird (I love that song so much) <3.
I’m seeing Taylor Swift tomorrow SEND HELP OMG :0
Taglist: @obi-mom-kenobi @g0oshtt @berlinswifey @alison645 @futuristicpandakid @sleepyoriana @amb3rrz @amyg1509 @t00-pi @crowleysthings @boobabietch @l3lazee @brtodd @gigachadcowboy @saturnknows @chiyoyooo @miggyyyyohara @puresweetenerx @saturnnnnl @natthernandez @reagan707 @voidashh @daisydark @kissezfornamjoon @etherealton @wonderlandangelsposts @niyanispunk @ang3l-dust1 @electro-supremacy @bestie1223 @dangerousness15 @iluvjisoo @atlaincorrect @naponiac @edgycatx @fluffy-koalala
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flowerandblood · 4 months
Text
The Gate of Salvation [1/3]
[ young pope • Aemond x catholic • female ]
[ warnings: sexual tension, angst, anxiety, manipulation, doubts related to faith, chauvinism ]
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[ description: During the conclave, a new pope is elected, but to everyone's surprise, he does not intend to show himself to the crowds waiting for him. His ideas terrify the cardinals, and one of them convinces his niece, who is studying marketing, to talk to the new head of the Catholic Church in his presence. Main theme: sexual tension & holy touch. ]
A mini-series created as a thank you and celebration of my 2'500 followers. I initially plan that it will have about 3 chapters.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Aemond as a Pope Edit
Series Characters Moodboard
Aemond NSFW Alphabet
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
Next chapters: Masterlist
_____
What happened after the conclave took everyone by surprise and caused complete chaos in the Catholic Church; she was one of the people who watched the live coverage from St Peter's Square.
She prayed in spirit that her uncle and her mother's brother, Cardinal Reene, would not become Pope.
Admittedly, it was thanks to him that she was living in Rome, and without his financial support she would not have been able to study, however, her uncle was a person who did nothing selflessly.
He recalculated to himself that if his niece wanted to study marketing at University then he would help her, reminding her at times that he would count on her help in the future, to create a good, sympathetic image of him.
She had the feeling that listening to him she was even losing her faith, which, despite her many internal disputes and doubts, was strong in her. She returned to the bosom of the church of her own free will when she was in high school after years of not attending Mass; she discovered that she felt attached to this tradition, as well as to God himself, whose presence she subconsciously felt all around her.
She knew that her uncle would certainly try to bribe other cardinals and she guessed what his pontificate would be like, so she begged God in her prayers not to allow such a man to become head of the church in his name, and heavens, as always, heard her prayers.
When she saw the white smoke on the screen she let out a loud breath, closing the textbook she had just been reading – she heard shouts and applause of joy coming from the television; the bells rang out, the solemn moment when the new pope comes out onto the balcony to greet his faithful was about to begin.
This went on for an astonishingly long time and she wondered if something had happened or if the votes had been miscounted, however, she heard the cheers of the crowd again as the doors opened. What stepped out was not a procession, but an ordinary priest in a black cassock; she recognised in him the secretary of the late Pope, who was certainly not a cardinal.
He seemed tense and frightened; he approached the microphone and said only two sentences.
"We have a Pope. The Holy Father, who has taken the name Pius XIII, asks you all to pray for him." He said in a trembling, uncertain voice, all pale, and then disappeared back behind the door – voices of disbelief and disappointment spread throughout the square, the gathered people, like her, were shocked.
However, all the internet portals published the name of the cardinal who had been elected; it turned out that the new pope was Cardinal Targaryen, a very little-known, withdrawn and shockingly young priest.
He was only two years older than her.
Journalists despaired that there were no official or unofficial photos of him, no statements from him, as if he had lived for years locked away in some monastery and never stepped into the light of day.
The world was confused and anxious – the young pope had not stepped out onto the balcony of St Peter's Basilica even once despite the crowds gathered in the square below chanting his name day and night.
She wondered if, in this way, he wanted to focus the world's attention even more on himself by standing in the absolute centre of it, and thought that if so, it was not a good beginning to his pontificate.
Two days later, her uncle paid her an unannounced visit at the flat he was renting to her, dressed so that no one would recognise him, just like the other cardinals still hounded by journalists and paparazzi.
"I need your help. The matter is very delicate." He said quickly, handing her his coat, which she hung on one of the hangers, looking at him over her shoulder in surprise.
"Me?" She asked with her eyes wide open, wondering what was going on there that required the help of someone from outside the Vatican.
"Pius XIII is a cripple. He lost his left eye as a child. He insists that if he is to show himself to a crowd, it should only be with his artificial eye, but not an ordinary one, one that resembles the real one, but a completely white one. He thinks this suits his attire and position better, but we think it will create additional confusion about him. Additionally, he wants to keep the Pope's public appearances to a complete minimum. He has fired all the Vatican marketing people with years of experience. This is some madness. Can I have a coffee?" He finally asked after his verbosity, sitting down in a chair at the living room table, placing his black wide-brimmed hat on the tabletop, sighing heavily.
She nodded, snapped out of her reverie and the shock of his words, pulling a mug and black coffee from her cupboard. Her uncle drank coffee made from three heaped teaspoons without milk, and although she didn't know how he could swallow something so disgusting and not have a heart attack in the process, she made it the way he liked it.
She swallowed loudly, pouring water into the kettle, putting it on the burner and turning the fire on under it, analysing everything he had told her.
"It sounds like he has a very low and a very high opinion of himself at the same time. How could I help here, uncle? I'm just a student." She said in dismay, shrugging her shoulders; her uncle nodded his head as if convinced that this would be her answer.
"You are young, you have a fresh outlook. He doesn't want to listen to us old people, he thinks we're out of step with the world and what it needs, whatever that means." He said with a sneer, looking out of the window, spreading himself comfortably in his chair with a creak of wood.
"I'd like you to try to talk to him, to understand what he means, what his vision is. Guide him to the idea that young people too want peace and predictability, not perpetual rebellion. I told him I could introduce you, that you are very talented and he agreed." He said finally and scratched the back of his neck – she heard the kettle whistle and turned off the fire under it, feeling that she had simply run out of words.
"− what? − I − oh God, uncle, I don't know − what if I make things worse and you lose in his eyes because of me? −" She muttered, feeling adrenaline start to bubble throughout her body; she poured hot water over the coffee in her mug, grabbed it and set it in front of him, then started walking back and forth across the room, panicking in some kind of way.
"This would just be a consultation − two young people want to change the image of the church to, let's say, a more welcoming one − this could be your big chance." He said, lifting the mug to his lips, taking a sip from it and murmuring contentedly, apparently finding that his coffee was exactly the way he liked it.
He persuaded her for so long that she finally agreed, but she regretted it as soon as he walked out.
She was inexperienced in discussions with this world, with such people, and was afraid she would make a mistake, do something against protocol and embarrass herself.
Her uncle sent her a message on the day of the meeting saying that she must dress modestly, preferably in white or black her dress must end at least past her knees, her toes must not stick out of her shoes, her shoulders must be covered. Sharp, defiant make-up was not acceptable.
She was to address the Pope as Holy Father or Your Holiness, keep the proper distance, not sit with her legs crossed, not put her elbows on the armrests, not lean or crouch in front of him, approach him only if he wanted her to kiss his ring.
The amount of information she received overwhelmed her; she took a quick look in her wardrobe and found that her simple black dress with white embroidered collar and cuffs was the perfect length – it had no cleavage, it looked elegant, innocent and girly at the same time.
She decided to wear flesh-coloured tights with it and sleek black shoes, which she had previously polished. She styled her long dark hair in a braid around her head, keeping it in place with pins, short, unruly strands on the sides of her face.
She used only mattifying powder and mascara as her make-up, deciding that this was enough, around her neck a necklace with a small gold cross that she had been given once by her grandfather.
At the appointed hour, a black car pulled up in front of her townhouse; she got into the back seat and greeted the driver, who, however, did not answer her, driving off without a word.
After several minutes they were already in the Vatican itself; she looked through the car window at the crowds of people spilling out of St Peter's Square, saw a group of men and women holding cardboard sheets in their hands with the handwritten words:
Our Pope does not love us.
She lowered her gaze, silently contemplating all that was happening, and shuddered as they stopped in front of the gate – a Swiss Guard officer dressed in colourful historical attire with red, yellow and navy blue stripes stopped their car.
Her driver showed him his ID and the man nodded – the gate opened and they drove inside into a small courtyard that she saw for the first time in her life.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the figure of her uncle waiting for her in his full, opulent cardinal's robe, a cross on his chest of pure gold, adorned with rubies and diamonds.
He greeted her with a broad smile and joy, with a gesture of his hand inviting her inside – they ascended the baroque staircase to the corridor, the view of the interior of the entire complex took her breath away.
She was surrounded on all sides by paintings and sculptures by the great Italian masters of the Renaissance, Baroque and Classicism; she felt a solemn mood, though she did not know why, as if she had in fact entered the truest home of God himself on earth.
The guards as well as other men passing her looked at her intently – she thought with horror and shame that women, with the exception of nuns, were a rare visitor to this sanctuary and aroused curiosity mixed with distrust.
Here, what Eve did in paradise according to the Bible, because of whom sin possessed man, was never forgotten.
They climbed the stairs to the upper floor and then stood in front of a large white door, high up to the ceiling, with two men in the same colourful garments standing in front of them. Her uncle sighed heavily, as if stressed himself, and looked at her comfortingly.
"I'll do the talking, you keep quiet for now." He said lightly, surprising her completely – she had no time to reply as he nodded and one of the guards opened the door for him.
Her uncle moved ahead, so she moved behind him, entering a spacious, bright room with six windows overlooking St Peter's Square – to their right stood bookcases filled to the brim with books, and to their left a huge wooden desk.
Only after a moment did she notice someone standing by one of the windows; his back turned to them, looking out at the crowds knowing they couldn't see him, a white cassock on his body, his short hair looking elegant and carefully styled, pulled back, almost white, glistening in the sunlight.
"Holy Father. As promised, I bring before you my niece, who I hope will allow us to come to an agreement." He said in a light, cheerful tone, as if addressing a friend, but they were answered by an uncomfortable silence.
She swallowed loudly when he finally turned to face them, her heart stopped for a moment when she saw how sharply shaped his face was – his cheeks and jaw were clearly outlined as if someone had carved them with a chisel, his mouth full, a pale scar running across the left side of his forehead to his cheek, his artificial eye completely white.
She felt that she was looking at him with her lips slightly parted and some sort of concern, so she lowered her gaze, reminding herself that she shouldn't do that.
"Hm." She heard him hum under his breath, as if he was thinking hard about something.
"Leave us alone, Cardinal." He said finally, turning his face towards the window again – she and her uncle looked at each other horrified, for this was not their plan.
She was only going to be an accessory, he was going to be the one doing all the talking.
"Your Holiness, I…"
"Get out."
Her uncle pressed his lips together and grunted, bowed his head and left, not even bestowing a glance on her despite the despair written on her face, leaving her to her fate.
She swallowed loudly as the door closed behind him and intertwined her hands in front of her, not knowing what to do, where to look, a cold sweat on her back.
"Do not be afraid, child. I know your uncle's nature. If I didn't let him bring you here he wouldn't let me alone." He began reluctantly, as if the very fact that he had to talk to her made him very tired; he moved with his hands entwined behind him ahead, walking along the windows, his profile illuminated by the sun.
She lowered her gaze, feeling a wave of shame surge through her, understanding that he knew perfectly well what her uncle wanted.
That it wasn't just about his image, but that he, as a cardinal, wanted his favour and the high position, money and comfort he could give him.
"What do you think of my decision not to show myself in public?" He asked finally; she raised her eyes at him, surprised, horrified that she had to answer. She swallowed loudly and licked her lips, dry of stress, thinking intensely about what she should say.
"Go on. You're supposed to know it, after all, it's an image issue." He growled and looked at her with an anger that sent a shiver through her; she stared at him in disbelief and fear trying to decide what kind of man he was.
She wasn't sure this was how a pope should behave.
"Driving here I saw people holding cardboard sheets saying: Our Pope does not love us. I felt sadness at the thought that many people feel rejected by your decision, Holy Father." She said at last, feeling that involuntarily her voice trembled and broke; she saw him tighten his lips, his nostrils moved nervously in accelerated breathing.
"Is love a perpetual vying for attention, standing in the centre? Is love only the deeds that can be shown, that anyone can see and name?" He asked frustrated, and she felt a squeeze in her throat, her lower lip quivered. She shook her head.
"People are afraid of what they do not know. You don't let them meet you, Holy Father." She whispered, and he snorted, turning back, going the other way, as if thinking over her words.
"So you think I should speak? Go out on the balcony and give them what they want?" He asked dryly. She let the air quietly out of her lungs, feeling her body tense all over – she had the feeling that she had adopted a defensive posture, as if ready for him to hit her.
"No. But I think it is necessary to find a way in which they can see you, Holy Father. To feel that you are in their lives physically as well. They need a guide, not another invisible God." She said finally and fell silent, lowering her gaze, feeling that her last sentence might have been too far-fetched.
She noticed with horror that he stopped hearing what she had said.
"You think I'm doing this out of vanity?" He asked in disbelief. She lifted her gaze to him, for some reason feeling that she was on the verge of crying.
"I don't know, Holy Father. I do not know you, nor do any of your faithful. We are sheeps who do not know where to go and where is their shepherd. Do you think we are too sinful? That we don't deserve to see you?" She asked finally in a trembling voice, his healthy eye fixed on her.
Our Pope does not love us.
She shuddered, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart as he moved towards her with a slow, lazy step, not taking his eyes off her, towering over her. She didn't know what she saw in his gaze, proud and cool; she felt heat in her lower abdomen as the pleasant scent of his masculine perfume filled her nostrils.
She thought he had approached her far too closely.
She froze and swallowed loudly as he lifted his hand; she thought for a moment in horror and disbelief that he would touch her breasts, however, he grasped her golden cross in his hand and turned it between his fingers, looking at it thoughtfully.
Something about him she found disturbing, even though she was surrounded by whiteness and daylight it seemed to her that the room had gone dark.
"I am not a hypocrite. There is no greater sinner in this world than me. I am vain. I am proud. I am cold. I am eternally, eternally thirsty." He murmured softly and looked into her eyes, her lips slightly parted in disbelief.
She felt panic begin to overtake her body as her insides throbbed wonderfully hard at his ambiguous, unsettling words.
"Do you believe in God?" He asked, still playing with her necklace, however, he did so in such a way that once in a while his fingers rubbed against the material of her dress lying between her breasts, each time a wonderful shiver ran through her spine.
She was only able to breathe and look at him, nothing more.
There was something evil, menacing, lewd in the way he asked the question, in the way he acted and the way he looked at her and she knew it, she was horrified by how strongly her body reacted to it.
"Yes." She whispered, as if she was admitting something she was ashamed of, something that was her secret.
He hummed again under his breath, as if accepting her words – his hand let go of her necklace and returned to the other, placed behind his back.
"I'm hiring you. You will be my image specialist. I expect you here tomorrow at 8am. That's all. You may go." He said indifferently, turning away as if nothing had happened; she sighed quietly, terrified, and nodded with a rapidly pounding heart.
"Holy Father." She mumbled, then turned and walked out.
Her uncle ran after her asking her what they were talking about and what had happened – he made the sign of the cross with some kind of relief on his face when she told him in horror that he had hired her.
"What did you say to him about me? I'm only in my second year of university, I don't have the right experience yet." She muttered in a trembling voice; her uncle sighed, correcting his glasses on his nose with his pointing finger.
"He doesn't care about your experience." He said amused, and she looked at him in disbelief.
It suddenly dawned on her what her uncle had been planning all along, and what she had gotten herself into because of her foolishness and naivety.
There is no greater sinner in this world than me.
I am eternally, eternally thirsty.
She felt a squeeze in her throat, tears filling her eyes again as she moved forward, covering her mouth with her hand, distraught, humiliated.
Her uncle didn't want her to be his worker.
Her uncle wanted her to be his lover.
_____
Aemond Taglist:
(bold means I couldn't tag you)
@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla
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doumadono · 30 days
Note
Hello, hello, I'm so so happy for you ❤️ And I'm glad I'm able to celebrate your milestone with you 🎊
As for the request, I want a cone with a little scoop of mint-vanilla ice creams topped with maple syrup! I want to ask for a coffee shop quirkless au with Bakugo
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A/N: thank you so much, sweetie! Your support means everything ♥
5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA
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Every time you walk into the coffee shop where Bakugo works, he feels a rush of excitement. Your presence brightens his day, and he can't help but smile when he sees you.
He'd always notice you from afar, your gentle demeanor standing out amidst the hustle and bustle of the café. As you approached the counter, he'd feel a strange flutter in his chest, something he couldn't quite explain.
You always order the same thing: a large cappuccino and a carrot pie. Bakugo has memorized it by heart.
You have a habit of sitting in the same corner of the café, studying while enjoying your coffee and pie. As you settle down with your books and papers, Bakugo can't help but steal glances at you while he works behind the counter. Your dedication to your studies impresses him, and he secretly admires your focus.
Your voice, when you place your order, is like a soothing melody to Bakugo's ears. It cuts through the noise of the bustling coffee shop and calms the storm raging inside him. He finds himself looking forward to those brief exchanges more than he cares to admit.
Sometimes, when the shop isn't too busy, you engage in small talk with Bakugo as he prepares your order. It's nothing more than idle chitchat, but to Bakugo, it's a precious moment of connection amidst the chaos of his daily routine.
Despite being just a customer, you have a special place in Bakugo's heart. He cherishes the little interactions you have when you place your order, relishing the chance to exchange small talk with you.
On one particularly hectic day, as Bakugo prepares your usual order, he catches himself stealing more glances than usual. The sight of you engrossed in your studies, a faint furrow between your brows, stirs something within him.
"Here's your cappuccino and carrot pie," Bakugo says, his tone softer than usual as he hands you your order.
You look up, meeting his gaze with a smile. "Thank you. You always make the best cappuccinos."
His heart skips a beat at the sound of his name on your lips. "Yeah, well, it's my specialty," he replies, trying to sound nonchalant despite the warmth spreading through his chest. He's puzzled. What's going on with him?!
Later that day, as you're about to leave, Bakugo gathers his courage and stops you. Summoning every last ounce of courage, he clears his throat and takes a deep breath, approaching you. "Hey, before you go, I was wondering if I could ask you something," he begins, his heart pounding in his chest.
You raise an eyebrow, curiosity shining in your eyes. "Of course," you reply, your smile encouraging him to continue.
Bakugo takes a moment to gather his thoughts, then blurts out the words that have been on his mind for weeks. "May I have your name?"
You turn to him with a smile, and your eyes sparkle with warmth. "It's Y/N," you reply sweetly, offering him a smile. "And yours?"
"It's Katsuki," he tells you with a little smile dancing in the corners of his mouth. "You have a very pretty name. It's nice to finally know who I'm making all these cappuccinos for," he jokes, a genuine smile gracing his slightly chapped lips.
You chuckle softly, slowly packing your things.
"Well, Y/N, would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?" He asks before reining in his boldness.
You pause packing your books into your bag and gaze at his face for a moment, staying quiet.
Bakugo feels his cheeks flush beet red and his heart race. Why is he acting like this around you?!
Finally, you nod, smirking slightly. "Do you like manga?" you ask instead, catching him off guard.
Bakugo nods. "Yeah, I do, especially something with some decent action."
"So I'd love to chat about the new "Chainsaw man" issue over a cup of cappuccino," you reply, grinning. "How about tomorrow after your shift? What time do you finish?"
He tells you when he finishes his shift, and you bid farewell to him before leaving the cafe.
Bakugo can hardly believe his luck. Not only does he finally know your name, but he also has the opportunity to see you again tomorrow, and on a private level this time! He realizes that he wouldn't have it any other way.
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wikiangela · 25 days
Text
I can finally breathe
7x04 coda, Buck's pov, 756 words
posted the beginning of it for fif, but I wrote more so here's the whole thing lol
[also on Ao3]
___
Oh. Oh. Oooh. So that’s- that’s what it was. Huh.
That’s the first thing going through his mind as Tommy kisses him. It’s like- it’s like a piece of the puzzle finally sliding into place, after years and years of searching, looking for something to fill that space with, that feeling of something being missing. It’s almost weird, really, how easy it feels, how he’s more relieved than freaked out. Because this- oh, this makes so much sense. He’s into guys. He’s been into guys. And right now, at this moment, he’s into Tommy. 
Holy shit, he’s into Tommy.
Buck’s mind has been a whirlwind of chaos and confusion and frustration for days, but now, when Tommy kisses him, it all silences. Just to start anew as they part, butterflies in his stomach so intense he feels like he might float, as a slow smile spreads across his face when Tommy pulls away. 
This is the part of himself he’s been looking for, he’s been denying himself, he’s been silencing for so long. He doesn’t know why now, why Tommy, what it all means and where it’s leading. But he knows that now he feels almost… complete, feels like himself, feels at ease. Feels like Buck.
He feels giddy with excitement when Tommy asks him out, and finds that as soon as the door closes behind him, Buck already can’t wait to see him again. Jesus, he has a crush. He’s a grown man in his thirties, just now finding out he’s into guys, and he has a goddamn crush on a guy, and that’s why he’s been acting like a teenager. It makes so much sense now, and Buck feels- well, he’s embarrassed because of his idiotic behavior, and guilty for maiming his best friend, but most of all he just feels relieved. Because he knows now, knows why he’s been so bent out of shape about this whole situation, and can put a name to those feelings. It’s like a huge weight has been lifted off his chest, that he didn’t even know was there.
He’s going on a first date on Saturday. With a guy. With Tommy. The thought makes a happy and a little dazed chuckle bubble out of his chest as he stands there in his kitchen, thinking about that kiss, his stomach doing flips. It was a nice kiss. A very nice kiss. He really wants to kiss him again. He wants to go on a date and kiss and hold hands, and do it all with a man he’s attracted to, and, god, he can’t wait. He’s also very grateful no one can see him or read his thoughts, because this crush deal is, frankly, embarrassing. He feels so silly, but he doesn’t even care, because he also feels over the fucking moon right now.
His face is burning and he can’t stop smiling as he goes about the rest of his evening, feeling weirdly light and relieved, like never before. He knows he doesn’t have it all figured out just yet, but at least he found out this one thing about himself, and it feels… it feels life-changing, in a way. It kind of is. This realization he just had, it’s- it’s huge, but instead of throwing him into more confusion, it settles him, tilts his askew world upright. Things are finally starting to make sense.
He’s into dudes. But he knows for a fact he’s into girls, too. So, what does that make him? Bisexual? Maybe? He already knows he’s going to overthink that and have to do some research to figure out what fits, what it all means, and reevaluate some of his past behavior in this new light. But for now- for now he’s just going on a date. He can take it one step at a time, both his sexuality and this new thing with Tommy, and figure it out at his own pace, and he hopes Tommy will be patient with him while he does that. Because- because he really likes the guy, and he wants the date to go well, and maybe, hopefully, it’ll lead to something more. He thinks he’d really, really like that.
Whatever the future brings, as of right now Buck just feels like something finally clicked and things started making sense for once in his life. He’s not as lost anymore. He feels like he can finally breathe. He found the missing piece of him, and he’s honestly excited, if just a little anxious, to explore that further.
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call-me-cheese · 2 months
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Yooooo always good to see new writers on here
Could you do some hurt/comfort with Charlie and Vaggie (specifically poly chaggie x reader, but if you don't do that, separate is fine), where the reader is in the fight at the hotel and saves Charlie from Adam (in place of Lucifer), but is seriously injured in the process and sort of lost in the chaos. Then, once the angels retreat and things are calmer, Charlie and Vaggie find reader beaten and bloody, practically on death's door, but hanging on as the two try their best to stabilize the reader
But the reader survives at the end because there needs to be a happy ending to it :(
Charlie x reader x Vaggie
A/n: I had rewatched the final episode for 4 times and I will go and cry about it. But I hope you will like it, here is 916 words(if you are interested in it).
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Your spear struck Adam's face with a slashing motion, throwing it away from Charlie. You may not have been perfect with polearms, but the time you spent with the Vaggie definitely made sense, usually without incredible strength, you could easily throw an almost 2-meter man away from your girlfriend. The adrenaline in your blood does its job, completely numbing the pain of the wounds sustained in the battle with the exorcists and allowing you to focus your attention on Charlie's defense. Adam was thrown to the side of the impact, and you turned to Charlie, checking how she was.
"How are you, Charlie? I definitely should have hurried." You turned to her, giving her a hand so she could get up.
"Thank you!" said Charlie as she walked up to you, hugging you tightly, and you gave her a gentle pat on the back to make her loosen her grip.
Somewhere in the background, Adam rises and begins to curse both you and Charlie, and you turn to him, walking slowly towards him, leaving one of your girls behind.
"How dare you, wretched accomplice of heaven, touch our ray of sunshine Charlie?!" -- your spear changes its position with lightning speed, the thin shiny blade of angel steel is very close to his body, yes you are not in the best shape, yes you see that Vaggie also needs help, but compared to Charlie, at least she is an experienced fighter and knows about the tactics of angels, so you're probably better off staying close to Charlie.
"Who are you? How many of you are gathered here? Moreover, why do you care so much about her? Okay, devils, you're going to be a piece of cake, haha!" -- Adam stood up, shaking off his clothes and spreading his wings, ready to take off, while you, seeing this, decide that you need to attack before the moment of takeoff, because there he will have an incredible advantage.
You attacked quickly, but despite this, Adama deflected almost all the blows, your imperfect technique, although easy to guess, a few cuts appeared on his mask and clothes. Suddenly, you heard Charlie trying to shout something at you, and you let Adam take off. Charlie called you in case of Lute that tried to attack you from behind to distract you from Adam, but Charlie and Vaggie teamed up and protected you.
"Thank you, darlings," you quickly thanked them and turned your attention back to Adam.
At least you tried, as Adam had already unleashed his magic on you, literally cutting the entire hotel building in half. And if Charlie has Vaggie to catch and hold her, there was no one for you in particular. That is why it was you who fell into the crack between the buildings.
You were lucky, the beams fell above you, which very successfully saved you from other debris, the adrenaline in your blood stopped working, the pain from the injuries came flooding over you and seemed several times stronger than it really was, there was no strength left to move or at least some signal, so all you could do was lie down and hope. Charlie and Vaggie will definitely find you, it can't be otherwise. Occupied with such thoughts, your brain gradually shuts down.
The next thing you feel is a cool, slightly rough hand, you instantly recognize it as a Vaggie's hand that was touching your neck in search of a pulse. Your eyes open a little and are dazzlingly bright compared to the dark silence your brain was in during the faint, contrasting so strongly that it hurts your eyes. You squint, turning away, trying to shield yourself from the light and the sounds around you.
"Honey, she's awake," says Vaggie beside you, and Charlie's shadow instantly blocks out the light, bringing relaxation to your buzzing head. So you try to open your eyes and look around without still fully regaining consciousness. Charlie hugs you, touching several open wounds, which makes you groan in pain. You want to ask about the situation, about the situation with the angels, but as soon as your lips open, all your senses come back to you, you begin to feel dust and dryness in your mouth, the surface of the ground beneath you, destroyed and not at all pleasant, dried up your blood, mixed with angelic blood and other things that fell on you during the fight and, To be honest, you start to want to feel nothing again.
"Shut up," Charlie and the Vaggie tell you at the same time. They also lift you up and transport you to a more comfortable surface at the same time. It is quite pleasant and the lack of constant tension in your body allows you to faint once again.
The next time you wake up, your body is tightly wrapped in bandages and the sensation of pervasive dust that caused incredible sensory disgust is gone. You're in the shade, lying on something soft. There is no sensation of pain either, it looks like you have been fainting for a relatively long time.
"Veggie, Veggie, come here!" -- Charlie is nowhere to be seen, but you can recognize her voice everywhere. You can also hear Vaggie's voice, but you can't make out what she said, she probably answered Charlie.
They hug you, you're sure Charlie is crying because something wet has touched your cheek. You, too, are glad that at least these two dearest people are alive.
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So as I already said I hope that you enjoyed it)
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dean-a-mean-tae · 4 months
Text
Nicholas Ross' Iconic Moments | Stray Kids Extra Member
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He’s an icon. He’s a legend, and he is the moment. Nicholas Ross. An unintentionally funny man with a very random sense of humor.
WARNINGS: Jokingly talking about putting a puppy(Seungmin) down, sweaty Hyunjin hugs, mention of a Haunted house, I don't know if you'll get embarrassed from the chaos that is Stray Kids but they're clumsy, mention of a strip club, I don't know what else.
(@cafekitsune made the dividers) | Nicholas Master list | This was originally gonna be called Iconic Quotes, which is why some are in bold.
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The camera panned to Nicholas in Stray Kids' dressing room. He was napping across the floor with Felix on his chest. The other members were spread across the room, while Chan went with the staff to get everyone food.
Nicholas opened his eyes and screamed, scaring Felix awake. Above him was a grinning Seungmin.
"Where do you keep spawning from?" Nicholas deadpanned as he sat up.
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"Please calm down. I don't feel like putting a puppy down," Nicholas said. Seungmin was jumping up and down while hugging the older boy.
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"Not today, Satan!" Nicholas screamed as he ran out of the haunted house. Running behind him was a screaming Hyunjin and a laughing Minho.
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Nicholas sat next to Jisung on the couch. They watched Hyunjin and Jeongin fight on the floor. Jisung bet that Jeongin would win, while Nicholas bet that someone would interrupt them.
Shortly after the bets were made, Chan stood over the wrestling boys. "What are you two doing?"
They stopped, and Jisung handed Nicholas, who was grinning, his soda. Jeongin yanked Chan down, and Hyunjin helped the youngest tackle him to the floor.
"It's official," Nicholas hummed. Jisung looked over in question. "Questions will get you hurt."
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A giant pillow flew across the room and smacked Nicholas on his head. He fell off his seat and onto the floor with a loud plop.
Slowly sitting up, Nicholas made eye contact with a panicking Changbin. He grinned, "Oh, I see. You have chosen death."
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Everyone was outside for a challenge. Nicholas held a bag of different vegetables while Minho marked things off their ingredients list. Jeongin sat in front of them with a giant bowl in his hands.
SPLAT!
Jeongin looked up. Minho was looking at Nicholas with wide eyes. The bag had ripped open, and all the vegetables had fallen on the floor. A tomato had busted open as soon as it hit the concrete. Fortunately, everything else was fine.
"Get the groceries!" Nicholas screamed as he chased four bell peppers rolling down the small hill.
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"Uh oh," Nicholas whispered.
It was like dominos. Hyunjin tripped over Changbin's body and fell into Seungmin, who fell on Felix, who grabbed Jeongin, who clutched Minho, who fell on him. Everyone collapsed onto the floor.
Chan, who stood next to Nicholas, sighed. "Are you guys okay?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if any of you broke a bone," Nicholas chuckled, scooping a piece of peach into his mouth.
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"We don't have time for your sad feelings things. It's your turn," A staff member grumbled at Nicholas.
"Respectfully, I don't like you," Nicholas glared at the male staff member.
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"I say this with as much respect as possible. *says something disrespectful*"
I can't think of a scenario off the top of my head, but I think Nicholas is unintentionally ruthless.
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Everyone was goofing around on stage. Nicholas stood near the front with Felix on his back and Hyunjin leaning against his arm. Jeongin was sitting on the floor next to Nicholas, leaning against his legs.
Meanwhile, Seungmin, Minho, Changbin, and Jisung had decided to gang up on Chan. While Changbin and Seungmin were poking at Chan. Minho and Jisung were lifting his shirt off his body.
STAY's screaming alerted the group upfront of the chaos behind them.
"Last I checked, this is not a strip club!" Nicholas shouted. "Put your shirt back on!"
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After watching Jisung test if bananas were slippery, Nicholas sat on the couch with a laughing Changbin. He didn't know if he wanted to join the laugh or feel sorry for Jisung.
Nicholas sat there with his :[ face. A grinning Chan sat next to him and started poking his face.
"Can you please not?" Nicholas grumbled as he side-eyed his leader.
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"Got me some chips," Nicholas said. The camera was zoomed in on his eyeball. After a quiet chuckle, Nicholas finally zoomed out. "No, you can't have any."
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One of Nicholas' favorite things to film was behind-the-scenes clips. Giving people a glimpse of the chaos that went behind their projects always made Nicholas happy.
What he didn't love was when the most sweatyest member, Hyunjin, tried hugging him.
"Please take a shower," Nicholas huffed, softly shoving Hyunjin off him. He hated sweaty hugs, but he hated hurting Hyunjin more.
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Nicholas Ross Master List
©️DEANAMEANTAE2023
Tags list: @bada-lee-ily, @jinnie-ret, @hwxnghyynjin, @foxilsdenn, @rensahazard, You can be added by asking in the replies, sending me a message, or doing an ask thingy.
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lunarduty · 4 months
Note
Hello ☺️ Could I request the Risk prompt with Alejandro please? No worries if you’re not up to it. Thank you
𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙋𝙐𝙇𝙎𝙀 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙎𝙃𝙊𝙀𝙎
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☾ alejandro likes to celebrate after a successful mission. | [ RISK ]  for one muse to drive and finger the other who is in the passenger seat.  ALEJANDRO VARGAS X F!READER TAGS | nsfw. smut. female reader. WC | 626 x
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after an op is all wrapped up, and it’s time to head back to base, alejandro usually likes to drive back alone with you. not all the time - if a lot of his men are hurt or if shit went sideways or if he needs to discuss things with rudy. but it’s happened enough times where most of the guys know that you drive back with alejandro, and therefore don’t offer up a seat in their trucks.
they figure it’s because their colonel is just protective of you. likes to keep you close. just wants a brief moment of PEACE after the chaos of a hard fight. and they aren’t wrong, but alejandro always has ulterior motives for his actions. before getting back to base to celebrate with his men, he likes to celebrate with you.
it always starts with a hand on your thigh as alejandro sings your praises. calls you his tough girl. recounts your accomplishments on the op while his hand squeezes your thigh all the way up to the waistband of your pants. he’s gotten really good at undoing your belt with just one hand. always grinning when he gets the top button open as if he’d just won a carnival game. glancing over to you as he drives and staring for a moment too long before you’re scolding him to watch the road.
but how can he not watch that pretty fucking face as his fingers wedge down the front of your pants? how can he ignore the look you get when his fingers start their DESCENT - an addicting combination of impatience and eagerness? riding the same aftershocks of adrenaline that alejandro is. and though his eyes turn back to the road, at least he can hear your little gasp when the pads of his fingers find your clit. a breathy, shortened version of his name as he pushes three fingers through the folds of your cunt to spread out all that fucking wetness and he’s half-tempted to pull his hand out to taste it.
alejandro’s favorite part is the teasing moments before he pushes even a single finger inside you. when you’re desperate for him and he’s holding it just out of reach so you start grinding your hips up against the palm of his hand and he just lets you. allows you the freedom of fucking up against him because you did amazing today and you deserve to do whatever makes you feel good.
but he eventually does sink a finger in - quickly, unceremoniously, and without warning because he loves hearing the little whimper of surprise from you. while driving, alejandro can only do so much. he adds another finger, curls them, lets you thrust against his hand, but has to leave his special little tricks for the brief moments when the trucks stop and he can spend even a few seconds pumping his fingers at a pace that makes you grip his forearm with a moan of his name.
“c’mon, princesa. you like to ride my hand, yeah? want me to make you cum all around my fingers? right here in the truck where anyone can see? very dirty, my tough girl. need to stop INDULGING you so much.”
it’s a bluff, though. if anything, you’re the one who indulges his dirty habits. he just loves finger fucking you on the way back. loves it when you cum and your voice is just a little hoarse from yelling during the mission so the moan is just slightly scratchy. loves having drinks with his men later with the faint smell of you still lingering on his hand. loves catching your eye from across the room and knowing you’ll be returning the favor tonight in the privacy of your home.
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