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#any rating or tw for the requests
tobias-hankel · 2 years
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I'm taking Hotchreid drabble requests in honor of the Hotchreid Zine release.
For more information about our Hotchreid Zine, make sure to check out Tumblr - all proceeds go to SharedHope, a charity to combat sex trafficking.
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crvptidgf · 8 months
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Sharp Kisses
Mattheo Riddle x Reader (smut)
➸ summary: after begging Mattheo to mark you as his, he finally gives in
➸ warnings/notes: MAJOR TW & MDNI 18+, self-injury (ish), mentions of cutting & being cut, smut w/ little to no plot, p in v sex, heavy petting, oral (f! receiving), knifeplay?
➸ requested?: yes ↴ (i changed it up a bit in the fic)
- mattheo carves his name into reader’s upper thigh and one day she walks into his room and sees him coming out of the shower with her name cut on HIS ABS (requested by 💜 anon)
A/N: reader discretion is advised, i am not responsible for the media that you intake. i also do not condone any of the actions that are partaken in this, it is merely fiction. if you struggle with sh or self-destructive behaviors, please talk to someone. my inbox is always open!
word count: 1.2k
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GRABBING THE SHEETS harshly, your head was thrown back onto the pillows, breath uneven. There was a chance that your panting could be heard all the way down to the common room if it weren’t for the silencing charm put on the room.
Mattheo’s mouth was wrapped around you, his tongue flicking upwards, side-to-side, in circular motions. His movements were never-ending, not that you wanted him to stop. He pulled away momentarily, saliva connecting his mouth to your lips.
He only stared at you as he licked one long stripe upwards, collecting all your juices before diving back in. It wasn’t long before his soft hands began gripping the flesh of your thighs, practically suffocating himself between your legs. He picked up his pace, his moans reverberating into you as he reveled in your taste.
Your legs gave out, weakening under the feeling of your climax making it’s way up. Mattheo held onto you for dear life, supporting the weight of your limbs that rested on his shoulders. Once he was satisfied with the sight of you shaking under him, your hands pulling his head away from your sensitive area, he raised his head up.
He really never failed to pull your release from you.
You looked at him as you tried to catch your breath, trying not to pass out at the sight of his messed up hair and glistening chin. His lips were bright pink, the corners of them perking up upon making eye contact.
“You doing okay up there?” he mused as his breath fanned right over where he was previously buried.
“Mattheo,” you whined, “stop teasing.”
His hands rubbed soothing shapes into the back of your thighs which were hooked around his shoulder. Your pussy throbbed with every gust of air that hit you due to the quick breaths that Mattheo took. He continued to stare at you, not saying a word.
“You know,” you said, inhaling deeply as you tried to slow your heart rate, “it would be better if you used the knife on me.”
His breath fanned across your thighs as he sighed and pushed himself up, giving you a warning stare. “Love, we talked about this.”
“I know,” you practically groaned, “but can’t we try it. Just once? Maybe you’ll like it.”
Mattheo sat up fully now as he leaned over your face, his hands on either side of your head. He thought for a moment before he finally gave into your puppy-dog eyes.
“Fine. But if it’s too much, tell me to stop,” he said, his lips meeting your forehead in a hurried kiss.
The drawer beside your bed opened as he grabbed his wand, casting ‘Accio’ so he could get the dagger that you bought that rested on your desk across the room. You had been prepared for this, knowing that one day you would get to finally try out your fantasy.
Mattheo took a deep breath, asking if you were sure. Once he got a breathy ‘yes, please’ he began to slowly make work with you.
He knew how much you wanted this, and in all honesty so did he. What he was afraid of was doing too much, or causing you more pain than you could handle. He could never forgive himself if he out you in harms way.
Your breath hitched as the cold metal touched against your abdomen. It slowly travelled across your ribs, up your chest, and to your breasts. The tip of the knife touched the plump skin of your tit, and you shuddered with excitement as you closed your eyes.
“So good for me,” Mattheo whispered as he dragged the blade back down your body. He pushed it further than your pelvis, wanting to explore your thighs as he made his way down to your legs.
He pressed chaste, wet kisses along your inner thighs as he played with the blade a bit more, experimenting with how deep he could press it without causing any harm. Pulling it along your inner thigh, he added a slight pressure, causing a moan to ripple from your throat.
Now that he knew how much you enjoyed it, maybe he could get used to this.
“Mattheo,” you said, your moans mixing in with the call of his name. “Make me yours.”
He cocked his head to the side, confused. “But you are mine, baby.”
You lifted your head to look at him, lust filling every corner of your eyes.
“Write your name into me,” you breathed out.
Mattheo’s head shot up. He definitely did not expect to hear that. Of course, the thought aroused him more than it should’ve, but he was also nervous. You were putting a lot of trust into him and he didn’t want to break it. For you, though, he would do anything.
“Fuck,” he muttered through gritted teeth. This was way more erotic than he had imagined.
He slid the blunt edge of the dagger across your clit before bringing the tip to the other side of your thigh. “Okay,” he said, “but-“
“If it’s too much, i’ll tell you to stop,” you nodded, your head already falling back onto the pillows.
Mattheo kissed soft, quick kisses along your pussy, teasing you before diving straight in. His tongue was slow and meticulous, licking across the most sensitive parts of you which he knew like the back of his hand.
You felt the knife begin to slice through your skin - not enough to leave a scar, but enough that you would be marked up for a few days. The thought that only you and him would be able to see it send a strong pulse throughout your pussy.
Mattheo smiled into you, his eyes peeking to the side to make sure he wasn’t cutting too deep. He pulled away from you for a second to lick into your entrance before coming back up to suck on you.
The feeling of his lips wrapped around, combined with the sharp tip of the knife was sending you over the edge. You tried to guess what letter he was on now, but you couldn’t focus if you even tried.
Your mewls and pants were all that could be heard in the room. Mattheo looked up again, his hand curving so that he could make the ‘o’ at the end of his name.
His hand came to replace his mouth as he drew circles onto your sensitive nub.
Mattheo’s tongue swiped against the new cut, your blood coating his tongue as he licked it up. Your injury was starting to hurt a bit, but with Mattheo’s saliva entering the mix, it soothed the pain slightly.
It wasn’t long before your orgasm overtook you, and you were a mumbling, idiotic mess under him.
Shit, he should’ve just done this a long time ago.
- - - - -
You were now bouncing up and down Mattheo’s length, his fingertips gripping into your hipbones as he held you in place, his hips coming up to meet with yours. He fucked up into you, his mind reeling with pleasure before an idea popped into his head.
It had been a week since the first used the knife on you, and he was curious.
“Cut your name into me,” he said, his breaths heavy as he stared at you with half-lidded eyes.
You rolled your head back, his demand causing you to feel a certain way that you had never felt before. He had never sounded hotter than he did right now.
“Where,” you gasped as his dick hit the perfect spot inside of you.
Mattheo’s hands gripped your hips as he grinded you on top of him now, halting your bouncy movements. “My abs. I know how much you love them, baby.”
- - - - -
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naeverse · 5 months
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Stress Relief
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🌑staring: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
🌓 preview: 
Blinded to the meaning of his always tensed muscles, excessive sleep, and lack of energy. 
Your boyfriend, Miguel O'Hara was stressed and even worse…
Sexually frustrated.
You became even more saddened at the revelation, pondering how you couldn't decipher it sooner with the many red flags in front of you; but with the new knowledge, you, luckily, knew a way that could relieve him of all his stress and exhaustion. 
Knew of something that will cleanse him and make him anew whilst in the process, curing the burning ache in your core…
🌔Summary: Lately, your boyfriend Miguel has been arriving home from work with an overwhelming sense of stress and exhaustion, leaving him unable to dedicate time to your relationship or attend to the needs of either himself or you. 
Tonight, you've planned to offer the much-needed support and care he deserves. 
🌕tw/cw. Bed-Sharing, Blowjob, Cock Worship, Fingering (Slightly) Handjob, Oral sex, p in v (Slightly), Size Difference, Somnophilia,
🌖pet names: Mi amor (My love), Mami (Sweetheart/Baby/Honey)
🌗rating. 18+ explicit I SMUT I
🌘Word count: 4.4k
This request is from a lovely anon, so I hope you enjoy! 💜😊💜
(I do not own any of the photos used! All credit goes to the original artist!)
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(This oneshot contains Somnophilia, do not read, if not comfortable.) 
Somnophilia- The urge/desire to have a sexual encounter with someone who’s asleep.
**YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!!**
(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)
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Your boyfriend, Miguel O’Hara was a workaholic. 
You discovered his habit upon moving in with the large Latino and noticing his incessant late-night shifts at the Spider Society HQ. 
At first, you didn’t mind it, your boyfriend found joy in helping the multiverse through his tech and Spider-Man work, so it didn’t bother you as long as he was happy. It wasn’t until he began to come home after a long day of work with tense shoulders, half-lidded eyes, and a face full of stress wrinkles. He wouldn’t say much, only a drowsy greeting, followed by a tired peck upon your lips or cheeks before he crashes onto any soft surface he lands on first.
His intense fatigue began to build a wedge between the two of you. You missed Miguel, his cute fanged smile, comforting words, loving pet names, and the way he looked at you like you were the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on.
Now the only thing his eyes searched for upon entering home was somewhere for him to lay his head. 
Due to his absence because of exhaustion, you’ve also grown to miss intimacy with him. Even though he was tired, he used to still make sure to satisfy you, but recently, his weariness seems to be too much for him. 
Tonight, you sat in your shared bed, a book in your hands. Your eyes scanning the erotica you were reading, full of interest.
Due to your lack of intimacy from your lover, you’ve begun to search for it elsewhere, and thankfully, erotic authors were a thing. 
You didn’t know what you'd do without them. 
You bit your lip, reading the sexiest passion exchange between two lovers when the all too familiar sound of your boyfriend's arrival via his orange and red portal was heard from the living room. You looked up from your book when you saw his massive being enter your bedroom.
His dark hair was messy on his head and his muscular frame was covered in his red and blue holographic spider suit. He almost touched the top of the doorway due to his tall height. 
When his crimson eyes met yours, a tired smile spread across his exhausted face. He walked over to your side of the bed, pulling you into a deep embrace. His burly arms and massive chest engulf your being in his warmth. 
“It’s nice to see you after a long day, mi amor.” He muttered, pressing a brief kiss to your lips. Your eyes fluttered close, savoring the feeling of his plush lips when he pulled away. Desperately your mouth followed him, yearning for more as he was already climbing into bed beside you. The mattress creaking loudly under his heavy weight. 
You pouted, setting your steamy erotica on your bedside table and turning on your side to face him. “How was work, baby?” You asked, causing him to groan, his eyes already closed. “Tiresome, mi amor.” He said sleepily, your face saddening even more at his response. 
You pulled him to your chest, enveloping your arms around his shoulders and beginning to run your fingers through his dark hair. He sighed in contentment against you. With him in your arms, an idea came to your head— a thought that you’ve been meaning to bring to his attention. 
“Babe, I was wondering since tomorrow is Saturday, maybe we can do something different.” You proposed, continuing your soft massage on his scalp. “Like we can stay home together, snuggle up on the couch, catch up on some movies and TV shows, and just relax-” 
The sound of his soft snores instantly brought your words to a halt. You looked down to see he was asleep, a peaceful look of rest adorning his defined features. 
You sighed, a small smile spreading across your lips at his adorable deep grumbles whilst his face was buried into the dark green fabric of your nightgown. You caressed his chiseled cheekbones with your thumb, knowing his inability to fight the sleep that always sought him each night upon returning home. 
“Goodnight, Miguel.” 
You whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead and gently placing him onto the soft pillows of your bed. You then stood up, moving over to his side as you frowned at the sight of his holographic suit still covering his body. The suit seemed to be the second skin of your boyfriend as every contour of his muscles and body was hugged by its blue and red digital strands.
Despite the burning desire for him to sleep without such restrictive clothing, you didn't want to disturb his tranquil rest, so you decided to leave it on.
You took the white linen sheets in your hands and pulled them over your boyfriend, tucking him in before turning off the lamp that sat on his bedside table. His side of the room, darkening at the loss of light whilst your bedside lamp still assisted in bringing a soft glow to your space. 
After clicking off his lamp and ensuring he was comfortable, you returned to your side of the bed. You climbed under the sheets and drew back the blankets, beginning to read your erotica once more. 
As the night progressed and the deeper you got into your steamy novel, you started to become overly aroused. 
You couldn’t explain the tantalizing feeling of need and lust that felt like a feather gliding across your skin. The sensation felt just beneath the surface, spreading like wildfire and demanding your attention. You couldn't pinpoint when it started as it crept upon you so suddenly. 
With each steamy word, phrase, and action read, your body heated up and your core throbbed in desire. You clenched the novel in your hands, squeezing your thighs together under the sheets in an attempt to control yourself, but it was no use.
You closed the book and took a deep breath. 
‘What is wrong with me?’
You pondered, never before feeling a deep craving for such intense intimacy. Most of the time you were content with just your steamy novels to cure your need, but tonight, you felt like you were about to burst.
You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your lip harshly whilst sitting against the headboard of your bed. Occasionally your hands gripped the erotic book, trying to relieve yourself of lust, but it felt unshakeable. 
You needed touch…
You needed intimacy…
You needed Miguel…
‘I could…wake him.’  You thought, your mind going into a spiral of all the things Miguel would do to you upon awakening and hearing your need for him. 
How he'll grant your lips with his long, passionate kisses that you missed so much. How his large hands would roam your body, his every touch igniting a flame inside of you that only he could achieve. 
Most of all, your sex-deprived brain imagined how he'd take you. 
How despite his loving touch and kisses, sex with your boyfriend was the complete opposite. 
Miguel loved to take the lead and enjoyed watching your eyes roll in ecstasy, the trembles of your body, and how one mere thrust of his massive cock could make you come undone. 
And that’s what you imagined whilst sitting with your eyes closed shut, biting your lip, and gripping your book so tight, your knuckles turned white. 
You didn't care what position, the pace set, or of a release, being filled by your boyfriend's cock was enough.
It was all you needed at this moment. 
To feel him buried deep inside, your walls stretched to accommodate his enormity whilst you felt his warmth and massiveness. 
‘Maybe just…?’
You opened your eyes, looking over to take in your boyfriend's sleeping form. How peaceful and content he looked, the rises and falls of his chest and the sounds of his adorable deep snores that left his tanned lips. 
He was handsome even in sleep.
The thought once more resurfaced in your head, the urge to wake him and satisfy your needs when you hastily shook your head.
‘Get a grip, Y/N. It's not that important. You can wait.’
You scolded yourself, averting your eyes from your enticing lover and deciding to go to sleep. 
You closed the book, placed it on your nightstand, and turned off your lamp. Your shared bedroom instantly engulfed in darkness except for the natural glow of the moon through your window. 
You pulled the white blankets up to your chin, snuggling up against them as you closed your eyes for sleep. 
But it appeared that sleep was playing hard to get tonight.
You were restless. 
The lust was too overwhelming and made rest impossible to reach. 
You tried to clear your mind, focus only on sleep but the thought of Miguel and his massive cock would invade your mind every time, preventing you from your slumber.
You gripped the sheets tightly, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to calm your arousal and relax; but your composure only shattered when small sounds began to fill your, once silent bedroom. 
Small sounds that went straight to your core and made you wet. 
Your eyes slowly opened, eyebrows furrowing as you turned to look at your sleeping boyfriend. 
You thought you'd misheard it, that maybe the arousal was so intense that it had clouded both your mind and sense of hearing, but again, you heard another soft groan leave your lover’s lips.
Your eyes widened at the sight of his face that was scrunched up in ecstasy, yet holding its peaceful look of sleep. For a moment you were confused, eyes trailing his being in search of the reasoning behind his pleasurable facial features and erotic noises. 
Upon examining your boyfriend, you shifted slightly in bed to get a better view when something hard brushed against your thigh. You gasped in surprise, springing away.
‘What was that!?’  You wondered in astonishment, clueless about what the object could be. 
Gently and cautiously, you pulled the sheets up to peer under the white blanket and your heart dropped at what you saw. 
An evident tent was sprouting from the crotch of your lover's spider suit.  
You wanted this to be a dream, that you were just seeing things, but upon drawing the blankets back fully to get a better view, you could clearly see the massive bulge under the red and blue strands of his holographic suit. 
You bit your lip, eyes trained on the alluring sight. Your core pulsated, begging to be filled as you couldn't remember the last time you were intimate with your boyfriend. Another series of very familiar deep grunts and groans were heard from him, only coaxing you to do the unthinkable. 
‘But…he's sleeping. That's not right.’ You thought, your eyes drawing back to the outline of his huge member through his suit, begging to be freed from its confines and brought to a release.
But the more you looked at his bulge and heard his occasional whimpers, you wondered if this was a regular occurrence. 
That possibly due to your boyfriend's fatigue, he tended to fall asleep despite his burning need for you.
The thought of him waking up in the middle of the night to relieve his arousal himself, without waking you, tugged at your heart. 
You sighed, looking back at your sweet boyfriend. He needed you and you've been oblivious to the signs. 
Blinded to the meaning of his always tensed muscles, excessive sleep, and lack of energy. 
Your boyfriend, Miguel O'Hara was stressed and even worse…
Sexually frustrated.
You became even more saddened at the revelation, pondering how you couldn't decipher it sooner with the many red flags in front of you; but with the new knowledge, you, luckily, knew a way that could relieve him of all his stress and exhaustion. 
Knew of something that will cleanse him and make him anew whilst in the process, curing the burning ache in your core. 
With your decision being final, you slid closer to your sleeping lover, the sheets under you rippling slightly at your movement. Your bare thigh brushed against his clothed one, making your breath hitch and instantly come to a halt.
Your eyes snapped up at him to see he was still asleep, shaky, uneven exhales passing his tanned lips. You breathed a sigh of relief, continuing with your plans of relaxing him and yourself, but you first, had to undress him. 
There was only one way that you could get Miguel out of his high-tech spider suit and it was by his technological white watch that adorned his left wrist. Like a stamp glued to an envelope, Miguel never could depart from his multiverse watch. It was one he’d worked very hard to create alongside his artificial intelligence, LYLA. If his watch went missing, he promised that all hell would break loose. 
But now, it was the center of your focus.
Your gaze was entranced by the orange screen of his white watch, emitting a small glow from his left wrist. The burning desire to just reach over and click the irresistible button was overwhelming you. 
But you had to be careful…
Frantically, your eyes glanced from the well-lit gizmo on your lover’s large wrist to up to his sleeping face. You followed the pattern of his breathing and when you were ready, you slowly rose on your knees. With a heart beating loudly against your chest, you gradually leaned over his massive, sleeping form. It felt like forever before your fingers finally touched your boyfriend’s sacred watch.
You didn’t hesitate to slide the pad of your finger along the orange screen, remembering how your boyfriend did it every night as you discovered your long-awaited button. 
With much fervor, you tapped it...
In amazement and satisfaction, you watched the sight of his holographic spider suit begin to disintegrate from his body, revealing his massive, tanned figure that was covered with muscles.
But, your triumph was short lived as upon relief of his suit, Miguel whimpered softly, shifting in his sleep. You hastily sprung away from him, not wanting him to wake up and see you hovering. 
You held your breath, waiting for his groans to die down to be replaced with soft snores and the creases of his eyebrows to settle once more before turning back to the task at hand. 
Your boyfriend Miguel wasn’t just a workaholic, but he was somewhat of a meathead. 
He enjoyed long workouts that consisted of intense and extreme exercises in an effort to keep his massive build. It was a figure that you could never get over, and despite what he wore, his muscles seemed to strain under the fabric, demanding attention. 
Even now in his peaceful state, they were enticing you. 
Begging for you to get a touch, to feel just how solid he was. 
You bit your lip, blinded by lust, you placed a hand on his right pec. You moaned softly at just how hard it was, the muscle seemed to have a life of its own as it rose under your palm with each breath he took. 
‘Gosh, how did I get so lucky?’ You wondered, unable to just get a touch and beginning to run your hand along the large expanse of his chest, relishing in the ripples, curves, and dips of his muscles. You traced your fingers along every beauty mark and scar, loving how they only seemed to add to your lover’s attractiveness. 
The more you touched him, the more your lust heightened. You felt your panties underneath your gown begin to become soaked with your arousal, and start to unbearably stick to your core, but you couldn’t help it. 
Your boyfriend’s body was calling to you…
Intoxicated by the feeling of him, you continued to feel his body, moving down his defined stomach adorned with a captivating six-pack and following the alluring brown trail of coarse hair from his navel, down to his massive length.
You were in awe at the sight, falling in love with your lover’s shaft every time you saw it.  
His well-endowed cock was now released from its confines to stand hard and completely erect before you. A patch of coarse dark hair sat upon his base; his tip was an angry brown with a tantalizing vein that bulged down the underside of his girth, leading down to his captivating balls. 
You sucked in a breath, glancing back at him to see his face momentarily contort in pleasure to soon relax once more. 
You pouted at the sight. 
Your boyfriend was secretly craving you, but due to his exhaustion, he was unable to cure his needs. The thought only urged you to continue. 
You kneeled beside his huge body, enveloping a hand around his girth and feeling just how solid he was. You gasped, a deep groan erupting from Miguel at your contact instantly made you bite your lip to silence you're surprised sound. You waited a few moments before stroking him at a slow pace and watching for any signs of discomfort to cross his tanned face, but none did. 
Breathy groans left his lips whilst his eyes remained closed, his features showing he was still asleep as you proceeded with relieving his stress. 
With each stroke, you were slowly becoming more engrossed into your erotic action. You pressed gentle kisses onto his thick, muscular thighs, running your closed fist up and down his enormous member. “Always working so hard, baby mmm~ never giving yourself a break.” You whispered, continuing to fist his cock, gradually speeding up. “But I’ll help you. Help you relieve the stress you have packed onto yourself.” You uttered through hushed moans, leaning towards your boyfriend’s sticky tip and licking it softly, finally getting a taste of his salty essence.
A deep groan left Miguel’s lips, his body jerking in his sleep causing you to halt. You looked up at him, your hand still wrapped around his cock as you studied his pleasured face. It wasn’t long before deep snores filled the room once more, his body settling upon the bed. 
You smiled, continuing your work at satisfying your lover and sucking his cock passionately. Your tongue licked up and down his shaft, running only the valley of veins of his base to circle the crown of his tip. You enjoyed how even in sleep, he shuddered at your touch. 
Upon rising to his tip, you buried his member deep into your mouth, feeling his head touch the back of your throat. You gagged, eyes beginning to water up as you pulled away to catch your breath, saliva, and pre-cum soaking your chin, but you didn’t care. 
You were blinded by your lover, driven by the need to satisfy him and yourself. Hastily, you returned, savoring the feeling and taste of your lover’s shaft on your lips and tongue, a sensation you haven’t had in so long. 
You moaned softly, rambling nonsense whilst stuffing your mouth repeatedly with his length, sucking and choking on his cock. Miguel’s soft grunts and groans filled the room with every flick of your tongue and suction of your lips on his shaft, the sounds only urging you to do more. 
You stroked him with one hand, slurping and lapping at his length as your other hand slipped into your panties. Your eyes fluttered when your fingers found your sensitive bud, circling it and moaning around his cock. “So good, Miguel. Gosh~ You taste so good.” You babbled breathlessly, your wetness coating your fingers while you pleased yourself.
You whined, bobbing your head along his cock and swirling your tongue around his tip. His grunts of pleasure becoming more louder and consistent the more you pleased him.
But the longer you fingered yourself and sucked his cock, the more careless you became. 
The drunkenness of the pleasure caused the thought of not wanting to wake Miguel to rush to the back of your mind. He felt so good, tasted even better, and your fingers flicking and rubbing your throbbing bud was only the cherry on top. 
You moaned loudly, gripping his cock tightly as you wiggled a finger into your drenched entrance. You whimpered, sucking his tip once more and thrusting your finger in and out of yourself, enjoying the sweet friction you were creating inside... 
“Fuck...” 
Miguel drowsily groaned, your eyes widening at the slurred words. You hastily glanced over at him to see he was still asleep, snores soon passing his lips soon after.
You breathed a sigh of relief, mentally facepalming yourself at being so negligent but unable to resist the spell that washed over you at the sight of his very saturated cock. 
It only drew you again. 
You engulfed his member in your warm mouth, sucking his thick manhood and discarding your own pleasure to use two hands to stroke him. With closed eyes, you relished the moment, tracing every vein with your tongue once, twice, thrice until it was engraved into your head like writing upon a stone. 
“Nngh…Mierda.” 
Another whimper escaped your lover’s lips, in his state of repose, but the words only became background noises to your loud slurps and squelches of your throat. “Fuckkk, so big. I-I missed this.” You babbled, moaning and gasping for air when you felt his cock throb inside of your mouth. 
You pulled away, watching beads of pre-cum dripping down his base and his abs tightly clench. 
He was close, you could feel it. 
You caught your breath, your lips and chin still coated in your mixed essences. With hungry eyes, you took in your boyfriend, every muscle in his chest clenching and unclenching, his incessant groans that left his lips and his member that throbbed horribly. 
Blinded, you climbed into his lap, his solid thighs easily holding you. His cock brushed against your gown, smearing its thick layers of saliva and pre-cum onto the fabric. 
You bit your lip, pushing your damp panties to the side and lifting your hips. You placed a hand on his hard chest, and took his cock in your other, brushing his tip along your drenched folds. You moaned at the feeling soon lowering yourself onto him. 
Your soppy walls instantly sucked him in while the satisfying feeling of fulfillment overwhelmed your being. Tingles spread through you whilst deep whines left your lover’s lips. 
You looked up at him, his face contorted in a look of pleasure as his hand instinctively landed on your waist. You hummed at the touch, beginning to roll your hips. With each grind, his cock buried deeper inside of you, taking the air from your lungs. 
At your movements, his breathing began to quicken, his eyebrows knitting together tightly as a guttural groan left his lips. Your eyes rolled, his load shooting inside of your walls, painting and filling you up completely. The warmth and intensity making you shudder and release after him. Your body trembling horribly as you held your loud moans back with a harsh bite of your bottom lip.
Once you regained your senses, you lifted your hips, releasing his cock as his creamy essence slipped out of your entrance, eyes fluttering at the sensation.
After catching your breath, you took the blankets in your hands, covering both of your bodies. Exhaustion instantly crashed into you upon your contentment and satisfaction. The lust and need were gone and Miguel was relieved.
You couldn't be happier. 
Sleep soon overtook you as you snuggled into your lover’s chest, his breathing settling after his release and lulling you to sleep. 
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The next day, Miguel’s eyes fluttered open. The Saturday morning sun shining into your window and illuminating the bedroom. Miguel oddly felt relaxed, completely refreshed like a free-flowing river after being burdened with ice.
He heaved a relieved sigh when he noticed the warmth that lay upon his chest. He glanced down to see you snuggled up against him, soft snores passing your lips. He smiled, running his thick fingers through your hair, slowly waking you. 
You looked up at him with drowsy eyes, giving him a warm smile. “Good morning.” You whispered, the night previous feeling like a dream, but the lingering sensation of being full could still be felt in your core. 
“Good morning, amor” He replied, pressing a kiss to your head, your body instantly melting at his affection. “How do you feel?” You asked him, a fanged smile spreading across his tanned lips. “Oddly, I feel rejuvenated.” He chuckled. You grinned, a small blush spreading across your cheeks at your words.
“I’m glad. My top priority is to make sure you are satisfied and most importantly…
Stress-free.” 
You said in a suggestive tone, one that your lover instantly picked up on. His crimson eyes wandered your face in thought when his bushy eyebrows rose. “Ah, did you have something to do with this?” He inquired, your boyfriend's intuition always being spot on. You bit your lip, flashing him a sly grin. “Maybe…” You trailed off. 
Miguel cocked his head at you, finally noticing his change in attire and that he was now bare, completely different from when he crashed the previous night. Along with the change, he was beginning to notice a potent scent of your shared arousals, a smell only he knew due to his heightened senses. His smirk broadened at the realization.
“I see…” He smirked, catching on to the little fun you got to have with him last night. You blushed, a little embarrassed as he shook his head. “Mami, no need to get flustered on me now.” He teased before suddenly flipping you over. 
A gasp escaped your lips followed by a laugh when you found yourself under him on your bed. He held his body over you, your being much smaller compared to his massive form. His crimson eyes held amusement in them at the sight of your laughter. Miguel looked down to your lips and back up at you, his tanned ones parting.
He didn’t say another word, only devouring your mouth with his own. His suddenness surprised you but instantly made you melt into him. You cupped his face in your hands, hungrily matching his intensity. 
Miguel overwhelmed and intoxicated you, engulfing you in his burly arms as your lips clashed in a combination of teeth and tongue. “Had some fun, huh?” He growled between the passionate exchange of kisses. You moaned against his mouth, humming in agreement. 
He smirked, continuing to messily ravage your mouth and roam his hands down your body. “I've been neglecting my baby, hm?” He groaned, squeezing your soft flesh through the fabric of your gown. “That's why you did it? You missed me, mi amor?” He inquired breathlessly in a hoarse voice through kisses and firm caresses on your body.
You moaned at his touch, nodding at his question of longing. The familiar feeling of need sprouted through your body the more he spoke, kissed, and ran his hands along your being. 
He pecked your lips one last time before pulling away, the intensity of the kiss leaving you in a daze. You looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, his skin seeming to be more radiate than ever. His crimson eyes met yours, blown with lust as a fanged smirk spread across his puffy tanned lips.
“You’ve had your fun, amor. Now it’s my turn…”
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A/N: Thanks so much for reading my oneshot! Shoutout to the wonderful anon who gave me the request, I hope you enjoyed it!
Make sure to like, comment, reblog, and follow! Don't hesitate to request or message me for any ideas or if you'll just like to chat! Love talking with you guys. ❤️❤️
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samandcolbyownme · 4 months
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Summary: anon request - "hear me out ok .. ok what if reader was getting a tattoo and JAKE is the person who does the tattoos??????"
Warnings: TW needles, getting tattooed, male tattooing female reader, mentions of being in pain and smoking, mainly fluff
Word Count: 5.5K | kind of edited
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"Hello?"
"Hey y/n, it's Corey from Emblem One."
You smile, "oh hey. What's up, Corey?" You sit up and listen to him, " So, Vienna isn't going to be in today, she's got a bad, and I mean bad case of the flu."
You pout slightly, "Oh. Thats too bad. I hope she feels better soon."
"Yeah, me too. I just got done rescheduling her appointments today.. she was booked and busy so it's.. been a day so far." He laughs slightly, "But I know you trust the rest of us, and I was going down over our other appointments and Jake has an earlier opening if you want it."
"Is he the one you were talking about bringing in a few weeks ago?"
"Yeah, that's him. He does pretty sick work, if I do say so myself, but you know that if I didn't think he could do your tattoos, I wouldn't recommend him." Corey chuckles slightly, "I know it's a sternum tattoo, so if you're no-"
"Put me in." You say quickly, "I need tattoo therapy Corey. I can't wait any longer." You laugh and he clicks his tongue, "You got it."
He pauses for a second, "So instead of coming in at six like you were supposed to with V, he can get you in at two thirty. That sound okay?"
"That's absolutely perfect. Thank you so much for calling me."
"Anytime. See you in a little."
"Yep, bye." You hang up, checking the time before getting up to go shower.
You were getting a chest piece done, a floral setting under your boobs with a vine that goes in between them.
You were actually kind of nervous for this one, well.. it wouldn't be as bad if you hadn't let google and all of its pain scale ratings deter your feelings about it.
You tried not to think about it by going to the shops page, looking to see if they posted an introduction to Jake.
They did, and wow is he ever pretty.
You bite your lip, reading down over the basic info that's listed below his picture.
Emblem One would like to introduce our newest artist, Jake Webber. Jake has been tattooing for a few years and he is absolutely incredible. You can swipe to see a few of the pieces that he's done so far, and if you would like to schedule an appointment with Jake, please call the shop and we'll get you set up.
You raise your eyebrows as you swipe through the attached pictures, "Wow." You shake your head, Corey was right, his work is pretty sick.
You find yourself in the comments, and to no surprise, you're reading stuff that definitely should have stayed in the keyboard.
User1: I have no tattoos, but now I want one that will take hours
User2: I have a few openings that I can definitely schedule you in to fill.
User3: I'd leave a wet spot on the table, he's so hot
"People have no chill." You roll your eyes, laughing slightly as you double tap the picture to like it before getting in the shower.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You push the door to the tattoo shop open, walking in as you give Corey a smile, "Hey."
He stands up, "What's up, y/n?"
You shake your head, closing the door behind you, "Nothing really, about to get a tattoo." You laugh slightly and he chuckles, "You don't say."
He slides the paper for you to sign, "Are you nervous?"
You sign your name and shrug, "I know it's going to hurt, but I'm so excited for it."
He chuckles and nods, "Yeah, I don't really think it's going to tickle." He nods to the back, "I'll go tell Jake you're here."
He walks back, leaving you alone in the small lobby that you're very familiar with. You walk over, looking at the different paintings and drawings that are on the walls.
You've seen them a bunch of times but they always amaze you.
"Y/n."
You turn, seeing Jake standing there and your eyes move up to meet his - wow, he's a lot taller in person.
You smile, "Yes, hi." You walk over to him, "You must be Jake."
He extends his hand out, "That would be me."
You lay your hand in his and it feels like fireworks are going off inside of your stomach.
"So if you're ready.." he nods towards the door, hand still holding yours, "You can follow me this way."
You nod, blinking a few times as you smile, "Yes. I am more than ready." You slip your hand from his and he gives you a little smirk before walking back the hall.
You follow him back, saying hi to the other artists that are there today.
"You're popular here aren't you?" Jake jokes and you laugh, "I've known Corey since, middle school, I think."
"So you're friends with the owner, how sick is that?" Jake sits down on his stool and you nod, "It has its perks."
You sit your bag down on the extra chair in the corner and shrug your jacket off. You turn around letting out a quiet, but loud enough to catch Jake's attention, "shit."
"Everything okay?" Jake looks up from getting everything set up and you nod, "Yeah, well. I mean no. I wanted to bring an extra shirt with me, just so I didn't get ink all over this one, and I forgot it."
"I have an extra one if you want it." Jake offers and you raise your brows, "Do you really?"
He nods, getting up from his stool, "It's in my car, but I can go out and grab it quick."
"Are you sure?" You tilt your head, "I don't want to be a hassle. I know you have other appointments later."
He shakes his head, "Nah, just one. But that isn't until six or something, so we have plenty of time." He grabs his keys and points to the door, "I'll be right back."
"Thank you!" You say as he walks out. You turn, digging your phone from your bag and bringing it up to text your best friend, I got rescheduled so I'm here at the shop now. Corey put me with the new guy they hired and oh my gosh is he a sweetheart, and oh, he is sooo pretty, too. Go to Emblem One on IG and look. It's their new artist. Jake.
Just as you get done, basically fan girling about Jake, he walks back in, "Here you are."
You take the shirt from his hand and smile, "You are a lifesaver, Jake. Thank you."
He bats the air, "Oh shucks." He laughs slightly and walks towards the door, "I'm going to let you get comfortable, I'll be back in a few."
You watch as he leaves, closing the door behind him.
You take off your shirt off, followed by your bra before slipping on his shirt. Your eyes scan over the black walls, moving over the long mirror hung horizontally against it.
You walk over to the mirror, spending the last few minutes alone trying to figure out how you were going to keep yourself covered while he tattoos.
As you're moving the shirt around, there's a knock on the door and you quickly pull it down, "Come in."
The door opens and Jake walks in, "Comfy cozy?"
You laugh slightly, moving to sit back on the table, "As much as I can get."
"Is there anything else I can do for you before we get started?" He sits down, turning to look at you with a smile.
You tilt your head, "It's more or less how I'm going to stay covered up, I don't want anyone uncomfortable. I seen other shops have hospital gowns that they have people put on backwards.."
He smirks slightly, "I was actually thinking about that out there and, I don't have a hospital gown, but what I can do, is cut the shirt up the middle and then tape it down so you're covered."
"I don't want you ruining your shirt, Jake." You shake your head slightly and he shrugs, "That's an old shirt anyway. I won't miss it."
"Are you sure?" You ask and he smiles as he grabs the scissors, "So. Are we doing this?"
You laugh, moving to stand up, "I guess we are."
He rolls over, pinching the hem of the shirt with his fingers before gliding the scissors upward. You lay your hands on your boobs to keep them covered and your breath hitches quietly as the cool air hits your skin.
"Let me grab the tape."
You nod as you watch him wheel over, grabbing the white tape before coming back over. He look up at you, "If you feel uncomfortable at anytime and need or want me to stop, please tell me."
"You're fine, Jake." You smile.
That wasn't a lie, you were, oddly enough, more comfortable with him than you were with any of your actual guy friends.
"I'm just saying. I don't want you writing a bad yelp review." He tries not to laugh but fails which causes you to laugh, "Oh yeah, I'm going to totally go home after this and write the worst review ever."
"Maybe that'll make the girls in the instagram comments stay away." He snickers as he shakes his head while taping down the shirt to your skin.
"You saw them?" You drop your hands and he look up with a nod, "Oh yeah." He rolls his eyes and sighs, "But I seen you liked it, so thanks for that."
You can feel your cheeks heating as he pushes himself back, "Oh, that. Yeah, i was just.. showing love to my favorite tattoo shop, you know."
Way to play it cool, y/n, you mentally slap yourself as you sit down on the table again.
He chuckles, "No I appreciate that. I know being a new artist to some is kind of scary, but Corey said he would hype me up and it obviously worked, since you're sitting on my table."
You laugh, "he did. Don't worry. He said your art was sick and I have to agree with him. You do some good work, Jake."
He smiles as he holds up a fresh, unopened needle, "Steril, clean." He brings it down to open it up, "Thank you. I appreciate getting that confirmed." He chuckles as he puts everything together.
You make small talk while he gets the stencil ready, asking where you're both from, what you do for work, this and that.
"alright, if you would come stand in front of me." He points with his pinky to the floor in front of him. You walk over to him and he rubs soap onto your skin before shaving the spot the stencil is going to be.
You look in the mirror, watching Jake as he works to get you ready.
"I'm actually nervous about this. I heard this spot hurt."
He smirks, "everyone is different, you know pain tolerance and all, but considering you have a few others, I think you'll be fine. If you need to take a break or two, or five.." he laughs slightly, "Just let me know."
You nod, "Sounds good."
He applies a thin layer of the stencil solution to your skin before turning around to pick up the thin layer of paper, "Alright. Nice and straight and stay as still as you can for me."
You let your hands hang by your sides as you try to control your breathing. You glance in the mirror, watching as Jake smooths out the stencil over your sternum and under your boobs.
"I think, this is going to be a sick ass tattoo." Jake leans back, letting the stencil sit for a few seconds before gently peeling it off, "take a look at that, let me know if you need it moved or anything."
He watches as you turn to look at the stencil in the mirror. You nod, "That's good. I like where it's at."
He nods, "Then we'll let that dry for a few minutes then I guess we'll get right into it." He smiles as he turns away to pour the ink into the little cups.
"I know your post said you've been tattooing for a while, but I'm nosey, so how long is a while exactly?" You sit back down, making sure to keep your body as straight as you can.
He laughs slightly, "Well, if you must know." He glances at you with a smirk, "I was an apprentice for about two years then I worked with an artist in the city for a little bit until I got a call from Corey."
"Did Corey find you on Instagram?" You reach up to run your hand through your hair and Jake laughs, "No, actually. My friend Sam got him in touch with me."
You blink, "Wait. Sam.. what's his last name?"
"Golbach."
"Shut up."
"I'm confused." Jake laughs and you shake your head, "No, no. I know Sam."
"Really? No fuckin' way." Jake's mouth drops open, "How do you know Sam?"
"My family knows his family. Ever since we were little." You shake your head, "That's crazy. Maybe it is a small world after all."
"Yeah, yeah." He smiles, "It sure is."
You smile and after a few seconds of silence, he points, "I'm going to check your stencil if that's okay."
"Oh no." You push your chest out, "Go ahead."
He walks up, gently rubbing his finger over the end part and nods, "Ready?"
You take a deep breath, "I guess so." You laugh as you swing your legs up, lying back on the table. Jake sits down, wheeling himself and the cart over.
You hear the buzzing of the tattoo gun and you take a deep breath. Jake applies a thin layer of Vaseline over the stencil, "Alright. If you need a break at all, let me know."
"Alright." You nod, taking in a deep breath before he anchors your skin down to start.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Halfway through the tattoo, you opted for a break.
Jake takes your hand, helping you sit up. You swing your legs over the edge of the table, "Thank you."
He nods, taking off his gloves before shrugging off his jean jacket, revealing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.
"I like your tattoos." You smile as your eyes move over his tatted skin. He smiles, "Thanks. I'm kind of an addict when it comes to them."
"Tattoos are hot, so it's okay." You smirk at him as you get up to look into the mirror. He walks up behind you, "Yeah, they really are." His eyes move from your half finished tattoo to your eyes and his lips form into a smirk before he turns away.
"Do you care if I go out and have a smoke real quick?"
You shake your head, "Nope. You're good." You smile at him, "Take your time."
"So sweet." He smiles and pulls the pack from his jacket pocket, "I don't know if you smoke, but I'd feel like it would be rude of me not to offer you one."
You laugh and shake your head, "I only smoke when I'm drinking, or drunk, I should say."
"Nothing wrong with a drink and smoke." He smiles and puts a cigarette between his lips, "I'll be back."
You nod, bending down to get your phone out so you can snap a picture of your tattoo progress. You laugh when you read over the text from your friend, oh my god. He is absolutely beautiful. You're letting him see your tits? Lucky day for both of you lol
You roll your eyes, taking a picture of your current state, He gave me his shirt and cut it so he could keep me covered. He's honestly very respectful, but we're halfway done. I'll send you a picture when it's all done.
You walk back over and toss your phone in your bag before going back to sit on the table. As you sit and wait for Jake, you can't help but think about how you feel like you've known Jake for years.
You clicked with him, so fast that it was actually kind of scary.
"I brought you a water." Jake says as he rounds the corner into the room. You look up, smiling as you take it, "Thank you so much."
You open it, taking a sip before lifting your legs to rest them on the table, "How was your smoke?"
He nods, "It was alright." He laughs as he grabs new gloves, "Don't worry, I washed my hands when I came in."
"No worries, I trust you." You smile, watching as he pulls the black gloves over his hands.
He had nice hands. Very. Nice hands.
"Are you ready to start again?" Jake snaps you out of your stare and you smile, "Yes. Yes I am." You lay back on the table as look over at Jake, "So is this your first sternum piece?"
He looks up at you, "Mm, not really. I did a touch up on one other, but her boyfriend stared me down the whole time."
"Oh I bet that was awkward." You stare up at the ceiling, "I hate that. I hate people in general."
Jake chuckles before he starts tattooing, "I totally get what you mean."
"Oh, I don't hate you. I hope you didn't ta-"
He cuts you off, "Not at all. Not at all." He smiles as he continues, "Don't take this the wrong way, but you have beautiful skin."
You bite down on your lip, smiling as you feel your cheeks turning red, "Thank you? I think."
He leans back, wiping your skin, "I meant that as a compliment, sorry if it didn't sound like one."
"No, no. It did. I just.. never got that compliment before."
"Really?" He shakes his head, "People are missing out to see you smile, then." He glances up at you, and you can tell that he's just as comfortable with you as you are with him.
You didn't really believe in love at first site stuff, but you did believe in that click, and that click is what you have with him.
"Alright, now this part might hurt a lot more than the bottom piece, so if you need another break, just tell me."
You give him a nod, biting down on your lip as he starts the vine that's between your boobs.
"Oh.. gosh.." you take calming breathes as he was right, it does hurt, "you were right."
You close your eyes, trying to think of something else and Jake helps with that.
"Have you lived here long?"
"Kind of." You say instantly, "I've been here a few years. I actually only live a few streets over in the Green Ridge apartment building."
"Nice, nice." Jake wipes away and gives you a little breather, "Do you have any pets?"
"I have a cat." You laugh slightly, "I would love a dog, but my building doesn't have the grass around it for them to go out, you know."
"Oh man. Of course not. What's your cat's name?"
You laugh slightly, "Um. It's mystic. He's a fluffy grey cat and I got the name from The Vampire Diaries." You wince slightly as you feel the needle piercing your skin, "I'll show you a picture when we're done."
"I would love to see it." He smiles as he moves onto the next part, "I don't have any pets. Mainly because I spend most of my time in the shop, whether it's drawings or tattooing, I just like being here."
"Did you draw that moon phase picture above the mirror?" Your eyes move to the frame and back to him, "Yeah I did." He looks up at you with a smile, "it wasn't easy, took me forever but I finally finished it."
"Do you.. think you can draw me a flower piece that connects to the top of this one?"
He nods, "I'd be honored."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Two hours of talking and tattooing later, Jake is up by your shoulder, leaning over you to finish the top of your tattoo, "We are almost done, sweetheart."
The cute little pet name makes your stomach flip and your cheeks turn pink, "Okay." You say quietly with a smile, "I'm so excited to see it."
"I may be biased, since I'm the one who's doing it, but it's so pretty." He nods, "I like it."
"I'm sure I will too."
"If you don't like it, you can tell me. I promise I'll wait to cry until you leave." He laughs and turns to get more ink.
"I don't think you'll need to cry. From what I already saw, I'm in love with it already." You smile at him and he nods, "I'm glad."
His arm lays over your shoulder, resting under your chin. You close your eyes, feeling the vibrations move through his arm and before you know it.
You're done.
Jake leans back, "Well.." he wipes off your skin, "we're done."
"Already?" You smirk, "That didn't even take long."
He laughs as he helps you sit up, your hand in his and his other on the center of your back, "Take a look."
You glance down before sliding off the table. You walk over to the mirror and your jaw drops, "Oh my god."
"Go easy on me, I'm sensitive." He holds his hands up and laughs.
"No, Jake. This is .. this is beautiful." You turn back to look at it more, "By far my favorite tattoo."
"I'm glad you love it. I love it too." He sprays a paper towel and sits down, "I'm just going to wipe it off some more then take a picture if you don't mind?"
You turn to face him, "I don't mind." You smile as you step towards him, feeling that relief as he wipes over the completed tattoo. (A/n: if you ever had a tattoo, you know exactly what I'm talking about.)
He rests his hand on your hip as his eyes move over the tattoo, wiping it in different spots, "Beautiful."
You look down at him and he smirks, "That tattoo looks pretty good, too." He winks before turning to grab his phone.
Okay, so there's something there. You weren’t imagining it.
You take a deep breath, licking your lips as you turn to look at it in the mirror again, admiring his work.
"Alright." Jake says, "Ready when you are."
You turn back to him, standing up as straight as possible as he snaps a few pictures.
"Got them. I'll probably post it later if you're okay with that?" He looks up at you and you nod, "Whatever you want to do. I'm covered."
"I definitely wouldn't post them if you weren't." He chuckles and points, "Do you want me to take that tape off or did you want to do it at home?"
"You can take it off and I'll just wrap the shirt over and we can slap a new piece on if that'll work?" You motion to pulling the shirt over and he nods, "oh yeah, that will totally work. Do you want me to cover it?"
"Oh yes. Please." You nod and he gives you a thumbs up before turning around to grab some Saniderm. He holds up the piece, "I think that'll be good for the bottom, I'll cut a skinnier piece for the vine part."
You nod, letting him do whatever he needs to do.
He runs his hands over the clear covering and then moves to take the tape off, "If you wanted to grab this side, I'll go ahead and work at getting these pieces off."
"Okay." You hold the side against you as he peels each piece of tape off on the other side before you hold that side of the shirt against you.
You pull the shirt over, holding it there until he grabs a new piece, "Thank you again, for the shirt, for cutting your shirt, and for doing all of this."
"It's not a problem at all, y/n." He smiles as he rubs the piece of tape to stick to the fabric, "Thank you for allowing me to do this."
"Corey said you were good, I just wanted to see how good." You smile and step back. He smiles, "Well I appreciate your curiosity getting the best of you."
"Of course." You nod and go over to grab your jacket, slipping it on before grabbing your bag, "Do you want me to meet you out front then?"
He nods, "Yeah that'll be good."
"Okay." You walk out to the front and Corey looks up, "Well, I see you're alive. How was it?"
"Painful. But.. worth it." You laugh and rest your bag on the counter, "You have a good artist back there."
He tilts his head, "Good as in he does good work, or good as in you like him?" He smirks and you shrug, "Is it okay to say both?"
He chuckles and rolls his eyes, "I guess." His eyes move behind you as Jake walks out. He moves behind you and around to stand next to Corey.
You hand him the money the amount for the tattoo and he squints his eyes, "How much did you and Vienna agree on?"
"Three fifty." You say and Jake laughs, "I'll take two."
You sigh, "then I'm leaving you a big tip."
He chuckles and Corey looks between the two of you, "I have to go.. check on something.. I think." He laughs as he walks away, leaving you and Jake at the desk.
"I'm not leaving until you take it." You rest it down on the counter and Jake sighs, "You're persistent."
"I like to show my appreciation." You smirk and he picks up the cash, "Fine." He smirks and sets it down on the desk, "Are we looking at scheduling another?"
"Is that even a question?" You laugh and Jake sighs, "Yeah, a dumb question." He laughs and looks at his schedule, "When did you want to come back in? For the shoulder connecting piece, right?"
You nod, "Um, we can do like two, three weeks? That should give you enough time to draw it up for me."
"Okay." He bends down, clicking on the computer, "Does the twenty first sound good?"
"That's perfect." You smile and watch as he writes down the date on an appointment card. He hands it to you and right when he's about to say something else, the door opens and you both look over.
A guy walks in, smiling at both of you.
"Hey Matt, I'll be right with you." Jake nods to him and looks back at you. You sigh, "Thanks again, Jake. I really appreciate it."
"Anytime."
And with that, you leave the shop, mentally beating yourself up that you didn't ask him out.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
A few days later
The last few days have been painful and irritating as you can't really sleep comfortably yet.
So it's two am, you're wide awake, and your phone goes off.
Who could that be, you think as you sit up, leaning over to grab it.
Hey, y/n. It's Jake. I'm so sorry that it's so late but I cannot stop thinking about you.
Your mouth drops slightly as you feel an excited rush roll over your body. You smile, biting your lip as your thumbs quickly tap the screen, Hi Jake. I'm glad to see that we both feel the same way.
You clutch your phone, anxiously awaiting his response.
Okay, wow. This is embarrassing. I honestly didn't expect you to be awake, but then again I'm glad you are. I wanted to ask you out at the shop the other day but I was so fucking nervous.
You giggle slightly, happy that you finally got the message you were waiting for, or waiting for the courage to send.
You tap the screen biting down on your lip as you send the message, You're literally taking the words right out of my mouth. I was so nervous, too.
You see the bubbles pop up, disappear, and then pop up again before he finally sends his message, This might be a long shot, but what are you doing right now?
You look at your screen confused but you answer, I can't sleep so I'm just lying in bed wide awake.
He answers, almost instantly, Do you want to take a drive?
You answer instantly, Yes, please.
You send him your address and he responds, I'll be there in twenty, I'll text you when I'm there.
You kick the blankets off, hurrying over to grab a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt from your closet. You brush your hair, not worrying about anything else before you walk out to your living room to wait.
You were kind of nervous, but at the same time, you were so excited to see him.
Twenty minutes later, your phone lights up and it's a text from Jake, I'm parked out front in the Tesla.
You grab your bag, making sure you have your keys before walking out of the door. You walk down, smiling at his car as you walk towards it.
He smiles at you through the windshield, leaning across the consol to open the door for you.
"Thank you." You say as you get in and shut the door. You turn towards him as you buckle, giving him a quiet, "Hey."
"Hey." He smiles and looks away, "god why am I so nervous?" He laughs and looks back at you. You shrug, "I asked myself that, too. A few times on the way out here."
He smile and shakes his head, "I figured we could stop, get some snacks before we drive around?"
You nod, "That's good with me."
"Okay." He nods and starts driving, "So. I have to ask. Are the lines on your tattoo straight?"
"I think so." You look at him, "Why do you ask?"
"Because.." he laughs, "I had to force myself to not shake."
You laugh slightly, "Aw, Why were you shaking?" He looks over at you, "I started shaking the minute you turned around to look at me in the lobby."
"Well you did a good job at covering it up because I couldn't even tell you were." You smirk and he sighs, "Well that's a relief." He looks over at you, "Tattoo healing okay?"
You nod, "Oh yeah. I took the stuff off two days ago I think?" You look over at him, "Do you want to see it?"
"If you're okay with that." He nods, "I'd love to."
He pulls into the parking lot and you unbuckle, bunching up your sweatshirt to reveal the underboob part of the tattoo, "I love it."
He raises his eyebrows, "That looks so good."
You nod, "It's healing perfectly."
He smiles as he points to the building, "Shall we go get some car ride snacks?"
You nod, "Let's do it."
You get out, walking in with him. You stay close to him, mainly because you're just happy to be with him. You grab some snacks and a drink, making your way up and Jake takes you stuff from your arms to pay.
"You don't have to do that." You say and he looks back at you, "You got out of bed at two in the morning for me, it's the least I could do."
You roll your eyes with a smile and wait for him to grab the bag before you walk out. You get back in the car and Jake looks over at you, staring for a few seconds.
"What?" You ask shyly, "Is there something on my face?" You brush your face and Jake laughs, "No." he sighs, "You are just.. amazing."
He laughs nervously and you smile as you look down, "So are you."
He turns towards you , word vomit spilling out, "I definitely would have asked you out the day you were at the shop, but I didn't want to do it with Matt standing and.. and then I thought that I could wait until your next appointment with me, but I couldn't so I got your number from your client profile and I just.. had to see you sooner."
"I'm glad you did. I was beating myself up over not saying anything." You sigh, "Plus. You're worth getting out of bed at two in the morning for."
He smiles and shakes his head, "That.. is sweet. Thank you."
You laugh, "I'm just glad we feel the same."
"You had me when you first looked at me, but you really got me at I hate everyone." He laughs, "I'm just glad that it wasn't all in my head."
You shake your head, "Nope. It's not."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
As usual, let me know how you liked this. Thank you for reading! Love you all!
Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤
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enviedear · 6 months
Note
can you pleaseeee do the reader’s first with billy??
i feel like that man would be a gentle giant 😞🩷
first time with billy bonney...
you asked so nicely i gave you a full fic <3 enjoy 2k words of first time cuteness with our favorite outlaw
tw— 18+ smut, minors dni, piv, unprotected sex, (do better irl) cumming inside
request
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billy's charming in the way he helps you off his horse, eyes as bright as the stars above. you let yourself walk with him, hands interlocked and arms brushing together, as you escort him back to your small cabin.
up here, away from the fast-growing town, trees stand tall and animals call out—it's wild out here. so wild in fact, that no one in the gambling den batted an eye when the gunslinger offered to accompany you home. his citation of some recent bobcat attacks being enough to make his sinfully intended sentiment sound as if it were an honorable and gracious one.
of course, not that you gave it any mind. none at all. for as sure as the days are long, it's no question that you've fallen head first for the man on the run. in just a few weeks of his strolling into town, he's managed to endear himself so effortlessly to you.
you watch his slender fingers graze the doorknob of the wooden door, "i can find som'where else to stay tonight, darlin'. if you've changed your mind."
his voice is hushed and you furrow your brows at his admission, "why would i change my mind?" your resolve is unwavering as you look up at him, your stare wrought with permission.
he pushes the door open, letting you step inside first. for a second, you think he may back down, regret his decision at the den, and leave you here alone with only the idea of what could have been.
such thoughts are promptly absolved from your head when he wraps his strong, yet lean, arms around you. his chest becomes flush against you, and you note the prominent bulge pressing into your backside— how could you have ever thought of rejection? this is the furthest from it, this is obvious clearance, a promise.
"you look so pretty," billy whispers, cool breath hitting your shoulder, "i want you s'bad... just don't let me scare you."
another confused expression graces your face, "why would you scare me?"
the gunslinger breaths in your scent, nose brushing along the curve of your neck, "'cause i know how much i want you. m'crazy for you, sweetheart," he pauses to turn your head toward him, pointer finger at your chin, "just don't want to be too much and scare you away."
you ease into his touch, turning to face him, defenses down at his confession, "i won't run, billy. i like you too much."
your words seem to ignite the spark of passion within him as he pauses to let his eyes trail over your lips before finding your eyes again. the act is small but apparent enough that you feel comfortable enough to slide your hands up to his chest. his heartbeat thumps against your hands, rate accelerated.
with a shaky breath, you lean into him, lips brushing his. lingering, you feel as if you're on the edge of a cliff seconds away from jumping into the waters below. you feel him give the softest smile, bottom lip bumping into your own. the little sensation lights you aflame, and you have to fight back a moan when he finally presses his lips to yours.
his kiss is saccharine, loving, and careful. his hands keep you steady, at your hips, drawing you into him. you feel utterly lost in his being. the way he kisses you, slow and graceful, a welcome surprise. used to rowdy farmhands' awkward kisses and scorned by vicious schoolboys' unsolicited pecks, you've never had a kiss so sweet.
as his tongue tentatively brushes against your lips, you feel your body responding in a way you never thought possible. you feel animalistic, wanton and greedy. your hands grip his shirt, pulling him closer as you part your lips and let him deepen the kiss. the taste of him is intoxicating, and you can't get enough.
with a sudden urgency, billy pulls you towards him and lifts you onto the nearby table. you gasp as he breaks away from the kiss to trail kisses along your jawline before nipping at your neck. your head falls back, exposing more of your neck to him, and you hear him groan in approval.
his hands roam your body, tracing the curve of your waist before sliding under your shirt to cup your breasts. you arch into him, craving the touch of his rough hands on your bare skin. your own hands find their way to the buttons of his shirt, fumbling with them before pulling it off his body and revealing his toned stomach. you run your hands across his chest, feeling the stiff muscles under your fingertips.
you break away from him momentarily to catch your breath, gazing into his eyes as he looks back at you with such intensity that you feel like he's seeing straight into your spirit, "i want you," he whispers, voice husky with desire, have the minute i laid eyes on you."
billy eases you back onto the table, lips grazing your own, the feel of his skin against your own sending shivers down your spine. as your fingers fumble with his belt, you're reminded of your lack of experience.
you pause to look into his eyes, silently asking him for reassurance, "s'okay, darlin', trust me." his lips press against yours, reassuring and gentle, "you're doing s'good already."
you can't help but grow warm at his words, the bravery and candor in his voice giving away your own effect over him, "i trust you." you whisper against his lips, pulling him impossibly closer.
he hums, kissing you again before sliding your dress shirt off your body. you feel his hands roam your waist, following the curve of your stomach to rest on the swell of your hips, holding you steady.
you take a moment to appreciate the sight of billy's bare chest—the way the moonlight filters through the windows, casting an ethereal hue on his body. you catch yourself wondering if you'll be so lucky to have him in your bed again, and you decide then and there that if he leaves, you won't let him go alone.
focusing back into the ardor of his embrace, the kiss as passionate as it was before, if not more. your tongues dance against each other, neither of you keeping a single thing to yourselves. billy's hands slide around to your hips, gripping at your skirt.
a shiver runs up your spine as he pulls you into him, feeling the weight of him press against your thigh. the heat from his body feels almost as strong as your desire for him, and you shudder from the contact, "i need—" you break away from him, hands fumbling at your own clothes, "i need you, billy…"
you pull your skirts up, revealing yourself to the dark-haired man before you. billy's eyes are trapped on your hips, lingering on your underwear as his hands slide up your hips and hook themselves around your bloomers, "never had a lady tell me what she wants," he murmurs, "s'direct."
his words drive you to press your hips into his, wanting him to know that you mean it, "please, i need you."
his lips find your neck, teeth nipping at your collarbone, "i need you, too, darlin'."
you close your eyes, hands finding their way to the button of his pants, "take them off."
you hear him chuckle and he slides down off the table, unlacing his belt as he steps out of his pants. you turn your head from him, flustered as you slide your undergarments off your hips and legs, kicking them to the side to fully expose yourself to him.
the gunslinger glides your back onto the table, eyes grazing over every curve and plane of your body as you lie before him, "you're so beautiful, darlin'."
you smile at his words, reaching your hands out for him as he lowers himself over you. your breaths seem to come faster, riddled with nerves.
you can feel his breath on your cheek, and you lean into him, "billy..." his lips kiss yours once, stopping you from saying anything further. you can feel his erection press against your thigh.
his hands find your hips and slowly slide you towards him, "just relax." he whispers as his eyes find yours.
you feel him press against you, and you close your eyes, bracing yourself for the pain. you suddenly feel a heat wave course through you, leaving a trail of nerve endings burning at his every touch. the gunslinger groans in approval and kisses your neck, seemingly urging you to relax more.
you feel him nip at your collarbone before slowly easing into you. you feel a light burning sensation, but it seems to be more from his movement than from his dick. his hips are gentle as he thrusts into you, his breath catching in his throat as you move your hips. the gunslinger's hands move to your waist, gripping at you as he pulls you into him.
the need for oxygen breaks your kiss, and billy's lips slide up to your ear, nipping at it as he thrusts into you with more force. you gasp, your back arching as he pulls you into him. you hear him groan in approval, "darlin', you're s'tight, and warm…you feel so good. i could stay inside of you forever."
you shudder at his words, unaccustomed to such vulgar remarks. your mind is filled with thoughts that no lady would ever think, but you find that you don't care. the pleasure billy brings you is more than enough to excuse what others might consider improper.
his lips find your neck again, leaving gentle kisses across your skin. you shiver as you feel him pant against your skin, "more, darlin', let me hear."
you nod your head, not at all sure what to expect. as billy's thrusts become harder, your nails dig into the tops of his arms, leaving light trails of red on his skin. he groans, "good girl."
your mind begins to cloud, your body becoming light with pleasure, "billy…"
as he moves within you, your body instinctively tenses and your breaths become labored. billy's hands grip your hips tightly, urging you to move with him as he thrusts deeper and harder. you can feel the tension building inside of you, a primal heat that intensifies with each movement.
"god, darlin', you're so close. i feel it." he whispers huskily in your ear, his words fueling your desire even more. your nails dig into his arms, leaving marks on his skin as you cling to him desperately.
finally, the wave crashes over you and pure ecstasy washes over your entire being. billy's own release follows closely behind yours, his muttered words blending into the symphony of pleasure that surrounds you both. as you lay there, spent and gasping for air, billy wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. his weight is a comforting pressure against your body as he remains inside of you for a few moments longer.
eventually, he pulls out and lies next to you on the table, allowing both of your bodies to relax and catch their breath. you turn towards him, gazing into his deep blue eyes that are filled with adoration and passion. this intimate moment between the two of you feels like an eternity as you bask in each other's presence. you turn and face him, smiling as you lean to kiss him.
you know you've never been so satisfied, and you can't help but feel happy for the choice you made. the gunslinger is kind enough to take you to your bed, snuggling into both you and your covers.
you lay in his arms, exhausted from your previous activity. billy looks down at you and smiles, "you did real good, sweetheart. i didn't scare you, did i?"
you shake your head, stupid grin on your face, "no, billy. you were perfect."
—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !
billy taglist— @honey-bees-13 @poppyflower-22 @black-yn @siriuslybeloved @sherlollyliveson18 @cosmicspacewitch @aravenswritingdeskblog @sabrinasbd
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itsmealaiah · 11 days
Text
"wedding gift"
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TW: multiple rounds of sex, multiple orgasms, profanity, p in v sex, unprotected sex, teasing, use of thongs/lingerie, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, explicit content, nsfw below!
Request: hii! Can you do a fic where tom and reader just got married and like the wedding night the reader wears lingerie? Like see through bra and thong with a see through nightgown?? and she teases him and shi?? when they fuck its like slow and gentle, but then tom just goes rough on her? He spanks her, pulls her hair. and they go in all sorts of positions. sorry if this is weird😭😭
Rating: explicit, nsfw content below the cut!
WC: 1.1k
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After years of promises that you both were going to get married, you had finally tied the knot, and you couldn't be any happier.
The love of your love was now yours, and you were his, so you wanted to give him a little wedding present of your own.
It was a little risque, however. Whenever tom saw you in any provocative clothing, you would be sore for days, but you didn't honestly care.
You had handpicked the lingerie weeks ago, and you were obsessed with it. It was see-through and had some straps to it, perfect to tease tom.
You sat on the bed of your small villa, the waves crashing underneath you as the stilts of the home held it up. Your head was tilted so yo saw the ocean, the sun slowly setting down into the horizon.
Tom was drying out your bathing suits from the day of frolicking around the beach, swimming in the near see-through ocean, and eating a sea-side dinner.
He walked back into the villa, seeing you peacefully gaze out into the horizon, and settled in next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you close. "hi my love" you giggled, turning to face him, his beard tickling you. "hi schatzi" he kissed your lips softly, smiling against them.
"you have fun today?" he asked, his hands rubbing your sides up and down. "mhm, i loved it" his hands slowly undid the robe you had on, carefully sliding it off you. He hadn't expected what was underneath, however. The lingerie you had picked was now on display, and his cheeks flushed a dark crimson at the sight.
"holy shit" he panted, feeling himself getting hard as he saw your bare nipples exposed, the revealing clothing doing nothing to keep you hidden. His eyes drifted to your pussy, and he saw nearly everything.
His eyes widened, glazing over with lust. "love, if you wanted to fuck, you should've just asked" he breathed out. You smirked, and got on top of him, pinning him down with one hand. You leaned down, your breath hot near his ear as you whispered "well, that wouldn't be much fun now, would it?" and kissed right below his earlobe, marking his neck. Your hand slipped over the waistband of his boxers, your fingers dipping into the fabric, teasing tom's hard cock.
He began to moan, his hips jerking upwards as you left purple, dark marks on his skin. Your hand pumped his shaft slowly, creating a gentle pace as you kissed his lips, his mouth struggling to meet yours. "s-shit" he panted out. You rubbed his balls slowly, covering his cock in pre-cum, lubing it up for you. "mmn-mngh" he groaned out, his hands flying to the sheets. He was already going to cum, his balls heavy. "baby i-i'm cumm-cumming" he whimpered.
"too soon love, too soon" you took your hand away, stripping him of his boxers and you of your panties. He whined from the loss of stimulation, his cock throbbing with need. You held his cock to your entrance, and sat down on it, your head falling forward as you began to ride him slowly, your hands squeezing his nipples harshly as he hissed.
Your ass slid easily up and down on him, your walls gripping him tightly, making it very easy for him to cum again. You went faster, increasing your pace, his balls slapping against your ass as he struggled to keep up, moans pouring out of his throat as he begged to cum, his balls getting heavy once again, ready to shoot his load into you.
His tip hit your g-spot perfectly, running over it each time you bounced on him. You threw your head back in pleasure, feeling your high creep up on you. His face was covered in a thin layer of sweat, his eyes shut as he released inside you without warning, thrusting up into you meekly. You tortured his cock just a bit more, and came, cum spilling out of you slowly, tom watching as it did, mesmerized.
"my turn" he flipped you both over, and drilled his cock into you, not caring if it hurt. His tip abused your gummy spot as you screamed in pleasure, your legs wrapping around his waist as he fucked you hard and rough, ruining the sheets. "shit!" you moaned out loudly, his dick burying itself deeper, now hitting your cervix as your eyes rolled back in pleasure.
"oh-oh my god" you panted, tom's head lying in the crook of your neck, leaving small kisses as he thrust relentlessly into you, his pace rougher than your own. "such a slut, look at yourself, dressing up so naughtily, getting me worked up" he laughed harshly, enjoying how dumb he made you. "whose slut are you?" he demanded, stilling inside you. "i'm you-your slut!" you yelled as he smiled. "good, good" he resumed his pace, ruining you with his thrusts.
He fucked you so hard and good, a partial reason why you wanted to marry him so badly, so you could have this all to yourself. He grinned wickedly, turning your brain into mush as he held your hands above your head, making sure you couldn't touch him. You couldn't even think, he fucked you so dumb, even just after one go.
"fuckmefuckmefuckme" you chanted, his cock hitting you so hard you felt like you couldn't even take it anymore. "i am love, i am" he said calmly, groaning as your walls gripped him, making him never want to leave your pussy. He had to admit, he was pretty pussy-whipped.
He pulled out harshly, leaving you confused, until he got you on your knees, and slid back in, gripping your hair, pulling your head back. "tom!" you squealed, feeling somewhat overstimulated by his actions. He thrust harder, pistoning into you as your head fell onto the plush of the pillow, your back arched in pure pleasure. Your legs began to shake, his hand smacking your ass. "come for me slut, come on" he slapped you harsher, and you moaned into the pillows loudly, releasing on his cock.
He finished soon after, but he didn't pull out, keeping his pace, now fully overstimulating you.
A few rounds later, and he was still merciless, fucking you harshly as you took it all, he didn't care if you were too tired, you were going to take it no matter what. His cock squirted his cum into you one last time, panting as he fell on top of you, pulling out. Cum oozed out of your abused pussy, and your whole body was sore. "shit baby, did i go too hard?" his eyes became worried for you, and he checked over your body, trying to see if you were bleeding.
"i'm okay love, it was really really good" you kissed his lips softly. "well im glad to hear that" he chuckled.
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Taglist 1: @madzandmore @20doozers @itsangelll @tomssexdoll @billskeis
Taglist 2: @charliesgoodboy @tokio-motel @tomsonlyslut @kqulitzlvr @roseroseluvrr
Taglist 3: @ballhair @tomkaulitzsjuicyballs @cherry-rawr @estxkios @billsdolliest
Comment on masterlist post to be tagged!
Requests are open! keep sending them in!
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charliemwrites · 8 months
Text
Hello, hello! Per ceilidh's request - a Soap x Reader ficlet from the prompt thingy.
#11 "You tricked me."
I was heavily inspired by that tiktok sound (iykyk)
Rating: M CW/TW: brief/vague torture, threat of SA (doesn't happen), manipulation, dark!Soap
Being a medium in the military isn’t that much different from being a medium anywhere else.
The rules are roughly the same. Don’t talk to ghosts in living company. Don’t join idiotic 2am summoning circles. Try to help the ones you can; try not to lose sleep over the ones you can’t.
Oddly, there aren’t as many ghosts on a base as any given suburban house. Depends on the base, of course, but a reassuring number of former-military souls continue to their final rest. Even if their bodies (or parts of it) don’t make it back, tags and a symbolic burial usually suffice.
The 141’s main base only has a handful. A few you’ve already gotten closure for, sent off into the beyond. The others you’re working on, or already know they’re a lost cause. Most of them are even friendly!
There’s a corporal that haunts the mess and laments mashed potatoes. A captain appears in Price’s office occasionally, his residual energy glaring down at reports and rustling at phantom papers. On the range, you sometimes speak to the ghost of a prostitute murdered by some piece of shite back in ye olde times. She doesn’t talk back – can’t with a crushed windpipe – but she smiles when you have the privacy to acknowledge her.
Your favorite, though, is Johnny. He’s a comparatively new spirit, by your estimate. Lots of energy, still coherent. You can’t tell how he died by looking at him, but that’s not unusual. It could have been internal bleeding, or a stroke despite his youth. He won’t tell you his last name despite all your asking, always just laughs.
“Yer no’ gettin’ rid o’ me tha easily!”
He always lays the Scottish accent on in a thick velvet blanket. You want to wrap yourself up in it.
Yes, the rules for being a medium are the same, even on a military base. The main one: don’t get haunted by feelings.
That was never a concern, never even a thought, until Johnny. Until you caught his eye around Price’s shoulder during your introductory tour. He followed you for hours, interjecting little asides that put your selective hearing to the test. Always orbited just close enough to send chills down your spine and goosebumps up your arm.
You confronted him when you’d finally been dismissed back to your barrack, whirling around as he popped his mohawked head through the door. Despite yourself, you made quick friends with him.
He’s an unusual ghost. Doesn’t seem tied to a particular place or thing on base. Isn’t trapped along the same paths he walked in life. He’s always solid or near solid, doesn’t waver at certain times of day. You’re utterly charmed by his unorthodoxy, by his miraculous non-existence. And by the fact that, while he knows your secret – as all spirits do – he seems more intrigued than solicitous.
It's not that you blame other ghosts – the coherent ones – for wanting help. It’s torturous to toe that line, not alive but not at peace. Stuck and dwindling little by little. You can’t imagine what it feels like, but you can sense from some that it’s frightening, and cold. No, you’re not bothered that they ask for help. Or with the ones that are just angry; they have every reason to be.
Johnny, though… he’s special. You don’t feel so alone with him, even if the room looks like it to an outsider.
“Oh, aye, that’s pure dead brilliant. You know they’re sending you to Russia?”
You flick Johnny a glance. He’s leaning over Price’s shoulder, peering at the briefing docket that’s actively being explained. You don’t mind the extra or early info. Saved your ass a couple times before.
Your lack of response ruffles his feathers though. He stalks through the table to Gaz, flicks his pen right off the surface. You snort softly as he curses under his breath and ducks to retrieve it, trying not to interrupt Price. You make eye contact with Johnny, blink and minutely shake your head. He can see the twitching at the corners of your mouth anyway.
He smirks and wades through solid objects back to you. His presence looms behind your shoulder, an uneasy flicker at the edge of your consciousness. Like this he seems bigger, inhuman beyond ghostliness. Rougher and darker in the corner of your vision. You’ve done a double-take and gotten teased for skittishness enough times by now to quell the urge to check. It’s always just Johnny.
You’re paired with your lieutenant, Ghost. He’ll be watching with his sniper while you’re on infil. Usually, you’re paired with Gaz, but he and Roach will be at the other end of the compound taking out a target.
When the team is dismissed, Ghost only pauses long enough to give you a nod before skulking off. Not unusual for him; you take no offense. Johnny, however, is scowling something fierce after him.
For whatever reason, he’s never been a fan of your LT. The one time you asked, the lights started flickering and Johnny dismissed the question with a sharp “just don’t like him.”
You suspect that it’s because Ghost was your mentor when you joined the 141. The two of you spent the majority of your time together, training you up to run with the rest of the squad. Due to his constant proximity, your ability to respond to Johnny was greatly hindered.
Still is with how observant Ghost is. Have almost blown your cover several times and had to really watch yourself, and your reactions. You think Johnny might resent him for that.
Back in your barrack, though, Johnny happily chatters while you gear up for the mission. Base gossip and bits of intel he shouldn’t know and shouldn’t tell you. It’s standard ritual for you two; he likes to talk, and you’re accustomed to listening. You hum in the right places, storing tidbits away for your own amusement later.
A playful tug to your bitch-strap makes you yelp, then laugh when you catch Johnny’s grin. He does it again, loosening one of the buckles on your thigh. You swat him uselessly, retightening it only for him to pluck at your bootlaces while you’re occupied. He’s got so much energy, for a ghost. So adept at interacting with the physical world.
“Quit it!” you giggle, trying to dodge his darting hands.
“Why should I?” he chuckles. You curse as he gets a finger in your harness and jerks, misaligning it with the rest of your gear.
“I’ll banish you,” you lie, wriggling various straps back into place.
“Oh, sweet girl, it would take a lot more than you’ve got to get rid of me now.”
It’s an odd turn of phrase for him, but it’s the tone that draws your gaze. There’s an unfamiliar, inky darkness in his voice that pools in the pit of your stomach. You frown, open your mouth to ask what he means. But just like that, his electric smile is back, eyebrows arching as he nods to your bedside clock.
“You’re gonna be late.”
“Shit!” You snatch up your backpack and fling it across your shoulders. “I’m gonna kill you, Johnny!”
“Can’t kill something that isn’t alive,” he cackles as you sweep out the door.
You make it the transport just short of reprimand, though that doesn’t stop Ghost from narrowing his eyes as you duck into your seat. Gaz has already started a lively conversation with Roach, and Price is staying back this time.
You miss Johnny already. He may not be trapped in any particular part of the base, but he can’t come with you on missions or leave. The spaces where he’s absent feel colder and quieter. Everything seems just a bit… off. A song missing an instrument, a rainbow lacking one color.
You’re not sure when that started happening, when Johnny became such a vital part of how you perceive the rest of the world. When did longing for him become a chronic illness?
“Focus up!” Ghost barks in your ear.
You blink, shake your head, and take stock bewildered. Gone is the transport and the rest of your team. It’s just you now, hidden behind a generator, presumably about to infiltrate the target.
How?
When you try to recall, you have vague recollections of exiting the transport. Hiking to the compound. Splitting off with a few parting words amongst the lot of you. It feels watery at the edges, more of a vivid dream than a waking memory.
“Yessir.” It jumps instinctively from your tongue while you flex your cold fingers, trying to coax the nerves back to life.
You take a deep breath – lungs aching like you’ve held your breath too long – and continue with the mission. There’s no room for error now, or idle daydreams of noncorporeal men with wicked smiles.
The building is only three stories and you’re not meant to clear it. Just get to the server room, collect the information, and slip away with minimal enemy contact.
Maybe that’s why you don’t realize that something is wrong at first. You’re supposed to be avoiding guards, so you don’t notice the lack of them. Things do go right, sometimes, the intel can be good.
But it’s the quiet the finally prickles at your awareness. You may be more attuned to the dead, but you have a sense for the living as well. Always made you the worst to play hide and seek with. Now, you can feel that this building is vacant, deprived of any souls.
“LT, something is wrong,” you whisper, frozen mid-step.
“What is it?” he asks.
“It’s too quiet.”
To his credit, he doesn’t dismiss you immediately. “How?”
“I think the building is empty. Have you seen anyone?”
“Negative.” A pause as he considers, maybe scans the other windows for signs of occupation. “Sit tight, I’ll update Price.”
There’s barely a heartbeat before you hear distant gunfire. Too much and too soon for the plan. Roach and Gaz weren’t supposed to neutralize the target until you were collecting intel.
“Fuck,” Ghost snarls. “Get out of there!”
You’re already sprinting for the stairwell. Nearly pop your ankles leaping down, boot treads catching on the edge of steps. No one is chasing you, but your team needs help. Gaz is shouting in your ear, the channels reconnected for ease of communication. The situation is devolving quickly and violently.
“Almost there,” you report.
Your foot hits the last landing before the ground floor when the building explodes.
---
It takes three tries to get your vision focused. There’s not much to see once you do. A concrete room tinted by bare yellow halogen. There’s a drain in the floor just in front of you and old blood dried in the corners. It smells like rust, infection, and despair. Your head pounds; your entire body aches. Being tied to a metal chair doesn’t help the post-explosion soreness.
You’ve been stripped down to your fatigues, no boots. There isn’t a door in any of the three walls you can see, so it must be positioned behind you.
Confirmation comes about a minute later. Three sets of boots entering your little box. Only one of them walks into your line of sight; a mean-looking man with face tattoos and a gold tooth. He asks if you speak Russian, and though you do, you spew a string of English profanities and threats at him. The backhand you get in return says he understood you.
The questions start as soon as he switches to English. They want information; they always do. What you had been sent to collect and why. Who Roach and Gaz were sent for and why. You don’t speak a word. Even when the pain starts, and then doesn’t stop. You lose track of time, the head injury floating you on the edge of consciousness within the first thirty minutes.
Hours – days? – later, the man takes a step back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.
“It’s alright,” he tells you, “I like taking my time, and we have plenty. Your friends think you are dead.”
That, you think through the haze, is probably true. You thought you were dead too.
“Perhaps next time we try something… else,” he muses, running a finger down your neck. “You are not as pretty now, but… prettier than you will be later, da?”
Ice forms in the pit of your stomach and climbs up your spine. It was always on the table, you know that, but facing it is something else.
Whatever expression you’re making seems to satisfy him, because he laughs heartily and finally leaves you alone.
Alone, with the promise of his next visit looming.
You squeeze your eyes shut. There’s a dripping sound nearby that you realize, vaguely, is your own blood. Maybe you’ll bleed out before he comes back. You time your breaths with it, using it as a count to get your wild and unsteady heart under control.
Reality washes over you in waves. There is no escape. Your team thinks you’re dead. Eventually, you will break and/or die. You might even become a ghost, join the collective that darkens the edges of this very room, a thing of pain and fear and rage without any coherency or singular will.
You didn’t even give Johnny a proper goodbye.
That somehow hurts the worst. Johnny, hearing second-hand that you’ll never make it back. No one to mourn with him, to offer any comfort. He’ll be alone with grief and then beyond, no one to tell his jokes or stories to.
You miss him more fiercely than you ever have. Part of you is glad he isn’t here. You know him, know he’d be too stubborn to leave you. He’d stay and watch, helpless, as you were tortured and killed. It would tear you apart to do that to him even though it wouldn’t be your own choice.
But… an awful, selfish part of you longs for him. Even just being able to see or hear him would soften the pain and fear. Would make this hell on earth almost bearable. You want to leave this world with Johnny whispering in your ear, maybe even join him when your body finally goes cold.
Given the choice, you would want him here.
You want Johnny. No, you need him. Regret ever leaving him behind, even though he couldn’t come with you. You’d do anything to change that now; anything to be with him again.
Anything?
It’s an unbidden thought, almost intrusive. Doesn’t even feel like yourself asking.
“Anything,” you whisper aloud, just to hear something other than your own despair. “Johnny…”
“You called?”
You jolt, head snapping up so fast it makes you dizzy. The world spins but he’s there, right there, crouching in front of you, arms balanced on his knees.
“Johnny?” you whisper.
Were you closer to the brink than you thought? Is this some sort of final hallucination as you slip into death?
“In the flesh.” He tilts his head, snorts. “Well, in a manner.”
“How…?” you ask, eyes already stinging.
“Told ya, you called. I’d never – hey, now, hey. No need for all that,” he soothes. He wipes the tears from your face. You can feel the warmth in his fingers. “This is a happy occasion.”
You huff in watery amusement, shaking your head. “Did you lose your glasses when you died? I wouldn’t call this celebration-worthy.”
His eyes scan over you, flicker dark. “It will be, don’t you worry.”
You blink, try to focus. Exhaustion and injury and chemical rush are making it difficult, but you know things are off. He shouldn’t be here, least of all because you called. And… something else too. Something in the way he’s holding his shoulders and the twitching around his expression. 
“Johnny, really,” you say, “why are you here?”
“You offered me anything, and I’m here to collect.”
Between one blink and the next, his eyes are black. Pitch black, from corner to corner. You suck in a breath, try to jerk back but there’s nowhere to go.
His grin is sharp enough to cut yourself on.
“I’ve been waiting for that,” he sighs.
He leans in, lips parting. His tongue rolls out, long and split at the tip. Licks a luxurious, burning trail from your chin to your temple. You make a sound borne of confused pleasure and fear, high in the back of your throat.
He shushes you, plants a slow kiss at the corner of your mouth. “My brave little lass, finally offering herself to the demon she’s been courting.”
The word bounces against the walls of your cell and burrows into your brain. Demon, demon, demon.
Johnny is…
“You tricked me,” you sob.
He cocks his head, onyx eyes soft with avarice. “Tricked you? No, angel, I’m saving you.”
His hands pet over the cruel ties around your ankles. The itch of them digging into your skin falls away. Gentle thumbs rub circles over the imprints the left behind. Hope and relief pounds hard in your chest.
“I’m only taking what you so willingly and enthusiastically offered,” he explains in hushed awe. Like you’ve given him such a wonderful gift, the greatest gift. Suppose you have.
“I’m going to take such good care of you,” he croons. His arms wrap around you, almost like a hug. His fingertips trace down your bruised arms to the cuffs biting your wrists. Those too fall away, and you find yourself reaching for him so quickly, folding into his chest, free of that wretched chair.
“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, a hand curling into blood and sweat soaked tangles.
“It… it is you, right?” you ask. “You’re my Johnny?”
“Always, angel,” he replies, “it’s always been me. I will always be yours. All you have to do is say yes.”
You tilt your head back, catch the wicked curve of fangs as he speaks. He smells like heat and woodsmoke.
“Yes to what?” you ask.
“To everything,” he answers, deep and rough. “You offered anything, and I want all of you.”
You should say no, you should throw yourself away from him.
There is not an inch of your mind or body that wants to leave the safety of his arms. This is Johnny, your Johnny, hellfire and all.
“And… in return,” you venture, “I get… you?”
“Eternally.”
Then it really doesn’t need much more thought.
“Yes. Please.”
“Good girl.”
872 notes · View notes
ohdeerfully · 3 months
Note
hi!! i absolutely love your writing, you write alastor so so well and i absolutely devoured everything you have posted... would you by any chance be open to writing alastor with a f!reader who has an eating disorder/anorexia? <3 it's a triggering topic so i totally understand if you'd rather not! 💖 i've just recently been stressed about feeling like i need to lose weight again despite already having lost quite a lot and it just feels. never enough, so i would much appreciate some comfort! thank you for sharing your writing with us! 💖
hi my love!! i know you requested this some time ago, and i hope youve been feeling better (,: i also struggle with this type of thing so i 100% dont mind writing about it, but just know that you are super beautiful and worth every sweet treat and meal you get!!! mwah mwah mwah i hope you like the story ^.^
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Ma Moitié
Alastor x Reader (fluff/comfort)
TW: eating disorder!!! alastor is def OOC hes being a sweetie pie join my discord!
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You always had a poor relationship with your body and food, in life and in death. You went through periods of weight loss, gain, loss again—some seemingly never ending cycle that no amount of therapy has managed to halt.
Your mind was currently weighing the pros and cons of eating the slice of cake offered to you by Charlie. She was celebrating the arrival of a few new residents, the first to arrive since the last extermination. The news really helped the hotel garner some attention, that plus the fancy new renovation Lucifer himself helped with… needless to say, Charlie was thrilled. So, she threw a little party. You had been standing awkwardly near the doorway, trying to find an opportunity to slip away from the small party. But you doubted you could escape without your absence being noticed; there really weren't that many people here to begin with.
You had accepted the cake out of sheer politeness, but you now just held the plate loosely in your hands, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you thought. You’ve been feeling particularly… susceptible to the calories in food lately. You considered the fact that you hadn’t eaten much today—or, honestly, the whole week for that matter. It shouldn’t hurt to just have one slice of cake. Just this once.
But… still… 
You frowned down at the cake. Picking up the plastic fork, you took a tiny chunk from it and lifted it to your lips. Your lips quivered as the food touched your tongue, and you felt sick as you chewed. You managed to swallow after an unnecessarily long few seconds of chewing, and you continued to just stare down at your plate. You didn’t think you’d be able to handle another bite.
Niffty had seen the sickly expression on your face, and loudly started throwing questions at you. Were you sick? Did you hate the party? Why didn’t you like the cake she made? Her loud voice was growing in volume, and catching the attention of a few other demons in the room. You tried various ways to shush her, attempting to answer her questions politely, but you felt your heart rate pick up at the obviously growing number of eyes.
“I’m not incredibly fond of sweets myself,” You heard that radio-afflicted voice pipe up from behind. You couldn’t help but jump at the unexpected presence, but you turned your head with a light smile. Alastor was looking curiously down at Niffty and you. 
“Ah, yeah, the cake’s great, I just… don’t like dessert that much…” You lied. You actually really liked cake, but it had been a long time since you were actually able to enjoy it without feeling intensely guilty about it. The tiny demon made a fussy comment about how nobody appreciated her and all of her hard work, stomping away. Her mood didn’t last, though, immediately getting caught up in cleaning something you couldn’t even see. 
You turned your head to thank Alastor, but you saw his smile drop slightly as he looked at you. The demon bent at the waist to lean down, his mouth near your ear and his usually boisterous voice quieted to a whisper. “Is everything alright, mon coeur?”
You felt your face heat up, both at the words he spoke and the proximity. You and Alastor had been quietly ‘official’ for quite a while now, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever get used to the small gestures of affection from the Radio Demon. It felt weird if you thought about it too long.
“I’m okay, just…” You weren’t sure how open you wanted to be about how you were feeling. Alastor knew about your poor body image and eating habits, but he truthfully never really knew how to go about comforting you. Plus, you felt as if your personal struggles were trivial to a literal Overlord of Hell. You didn’t want to bother him with your own shit.
“I’m fine,” You finally decided. You could tell Alastor knew you were lying, with that furrow of his eyebrows, but he stood up straight and didn’t push. You sighed and gently placed the plate of cake down on a small entryway table by the door you had been lurking near.
“I’ll get us out of here,” He declared with a wide smile, and he strode forward to where Charlie stood talking to the group of new guests. She knew Alastor was approaching due to the look of horror that slowly crossed the new demon’s faces. You couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but it looked like she briefly scolded Alastor for being so damn intimidating for no reason.
They chatted for a moment, and you could hear the Radio Demon’s obnoxious laughter from across the room. He gestured to himself, then to you, to which Charlie looked in your direction. You shot her a small smile. She smiled back, nodded, and turned away to continue talking to the new residents—who all had been slowly inching away from Alastor. They looked incredibly relieved when he left the group.
He gave you a grin and wordlessly threaded his arm around yours, linking you at the elbow. You lifted your hand to give his upper arm an appreciative squeeze as you left the room. Your eyes lingered on the abandoned slice of cake as you walked away, feeling guilty in more ways than one.
Alastor had led you to your room, releasing your arm and leaning his body weight on his cane as he looked down at you. You glanced up at him, then back down, pursing your lips as you stared at anything else in the room.
“I hate when demons lie to me,” He said, eyes narrowed. Of course, you knew he wasn’t truly mad at you. Maybe frustrated. “What’s wrong.” It was more like a statement than a question. A demand.
You sat heavily down on the edge of your bed, fiddling with your fingers. 
“I don’t know, Al,” You muttered. You hated this. “I just… You know how I get sometimes.” It somehow felt so silly, telling him about this. 
Alastor had sat down next to you, his arm wrapped over your shoulder and a clawed hand rubbing up and down your forearm. You could tell his touch was light, awkward, unsure—but the gesture was appreciated nonetheless. While Alastor typically had no problem overstepping boundaries and shoving demons around purely to aggravate them, he obviously had no real idea how to be intimate and kind. But he tried for you.
He took his other hand and slipped it under your legs, swiftly lifting you and pulling you further up the bed. He leaned his body against the headboard, and dragged you over to lay your torso against his own.
“I don’t understand why you worry about all this, dear,” He mused, his fingers threading through your hair. His other hand graced past your stomach, which caused you to subconsciously flinch away. You felt his hand pause, but he didn’t mention it.
“I wish I didn’t have to,” You responded slowly, your cheek squished against his chest. “But I’ve dealt with this since I was alive. I feel like it’ll never get better.”
“Dearest, you have a whole eternity here,” He mused in response. He placed a finger under your chin and craned your head to meet his gaze. “You need to be strong to survive down here; to stay sane. A healthy body leads to a healthy mind.”
Of course Alastor was always thinking about strength and survival. He was an Overlord, after all. You didn’t respond to him, but you kept looking at him as he spoke. There was an odd look in his eyes as he talked.
“Plus,” He continues. His words were slow, and his mouth moved as if the words tasted unnatural on his tongue. This uncertainty that touched the Radio Demon’s voice was… rare, to say the least. “I want to see ma moitié happy. I am… incredibly devoted to you.”
Your ear pricked when you noticed the radio frequency in his voice completely dropped when he spoke the words. That look in his eyes—you finally recognized it as some odd sense of passion and endearment. An emotion that you could tell confused him, with the strain in his brow as he examined you. He meant the words he said, no matter how unnatural they felt leaving his mouth.
You rested your head back down on his chest. You knew this conversation wouldn’t “cure” you or anything, but you hoped that maybe you could think back on his words everytime your hands shook as you held a fork to your mouth. Of all demons in Hell, Alastor’s opinion was probably the most important to you, and you knew his devotion wouldn’t halt because of a few pounds; Alastor had to be deeply, deeply passionate about you to even let you lay on top of him like this.
You only hummed in response, and simply rested your head back against his chest. You hugged your arm tightly against him to try to convey that you appreciated his words, but you didn’t really know what to say.
“Would you join me for breakfast tomorrow?” Alastor asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence. “I know this wonderful place that I frequent for coffee…” 
You thought for a moment, again weighing the pros and cons; a habit that you struggled to drop when it came to meals. Your mind was buzzing with thoughts of what kind of food might be there, and if you should ration out the meals for the rest of the day. But, you felt the thoughts melt away when Alastor’s hand rubbed a comforting circle against your cheek, and then trailing down towards your shoulder in a light squeeze.
“Okay,” you finally said. It wouldn’t hurt to have a decent meal for once. You pulled yourself up onto your elbows again to look at Alastor. “Sounds awesome.”
His smile twisted up, his teeth peeking through a small gap in his lips. His head inched forward, but then paused, and you could tell his mind was racing with various thoughts. You waited for him to decide and, after a few moments, he closed the gap and lightly pressed his lips against yours. It was brief, as most intimate contact with him was, but you enjoyed it while it lasted.
“You will always be my only weakness,” Alastor admitted tenderly. “The most captivating demon in all of Hell.”
You couldn’t stop the shy smile that spread across your face at his words. You sputtered out some awkward response, to which he simply hummed and smiled at. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the headboard, his fingers still playing with your hair gently.
You followed suit, resting your head against his chest and closing your own eyes. You didn’t even realize how tired you were, too caught up in the rare intimacy with Alastor. You let your worries of breakfast fade away, choosing to just enjoy the warmth of his body so close to yours.
266 notes · View notes
straykeedz · 8 months
Note
heyy bby, im dreaming with jisung weed dealer for so long i would love that if you could do it !! kisses luv 💋💋
high on you ; hjs
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author’s note: thank you so much for requesting something to me! i’m sorry if anything that’s written here is inaccurate lol, i now nothing about weed and stuff like that 🙏 hope this lives up to your expectations, x 🫧
pairing: han jisung x afab!reader;
rating: m, s;
wc: 2,9k;
tw: jisung’s your weed dealer; smoking weed; fingering (f receiving); they’re in a car so i guess a little bit of exhibitionism; han calls reader a slut during sexy-time but it’s okay because she likes it; reader calls him hanji 🥺; they talk about kids in the end; suggestive ending;
check out my masterlist here ♡
🗺️: i am not a native english speaker so please let me know if you spot any mistakes/typos/anything!
mature content under the cut so minors dni! 🤨
☎︎
He’s holding the small, transparent plastic bag above his head, out of your reach as he smirks at you cockily. 
“This is the third time you hit me up this month.” Jisung points out. “I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me, babe.”, the pet name rolls off his tongue so naturally it makes you scoff and cross your arms over your chest. 
“Am not.”, you roll your eyes at him as you make a scarce attempt at reaching the plastic bag in his hand. He chuckles as he watches you miserably failing. “Am obsessed with that’s inside that bag, tho. Give it to me.”, you growl, frowning. 
That stupid smirk won’t disappear from Jisung’s face, and it’s starting to annoy you. “Addiction is not good, babe. The way you’re acting is making me wonder whether I should give this to you.” Jisung teases. 
“I’m not addicted to this stuff.”, you shot back, offended by his assumption. “It just helps me relax.”
It’s true - it does help you relax. Though, it’s not the real reason why you keep coming back to him. It sounds ridiculous when you think about it - falling for your dealer. However, you fell for him - you fell hard. You don’t even like weed that much, if you think about it, you keep on buying that stuff because it’s the only thing that somehow links you to him. It’s stupid, you’re aware of that, but that’s just how much Han Jisung has you wrapped around his finger.
“Okay then.” Jisung smirks. “That’ll be fifty bucks, babe.”, he says. 
You look at him with wide eyes, mouth slowly agape. “Fifty?”, you squeak. “I don’t have that much money! You sold me the same amount for twenty bucks last time!”, you argue. 
“What can I do?”, he shrugs, waving the plastic bag in the air, still out of your reach - even economically now. “That’s how the market works, I don’t dictate the rules, babe.”
You whine, letting out a heavy sigh, defeated. You can’t afford spending fifty bucks on that shit - not when you’re drowning in bills and delayed payments. If what Jisung said is true, that means you’re gonna have to stop calling him - you’re gonna have to cut him off for good. 
“Whatever.”, you bite your cheek, a bit annoyed. “I guess I’ll see you around, then.”, you turn around in order to leave, but he grabs you by the wrist, making you turn to face him. 
“I thought you wanted it.” Jisung says. “Thought you were obsessed with this.”, he mocks you, still grinning cockily, mimicking the quotation marks with his fingers. Annoying. 
You glare at him. “Stop.”, you growl. “I mean, there isn’t much I can do. It’s too expensive and I can’t afford it right now.”, you let your arms fall down your sides. “I guess our paths part here, Han Jisung. I’ll see you around.”
He grabs you by the wrist once again, making you snap your head up at him as he lowers his hand - the hand that’s holding the little plastic bag, and places it in your hand. You look at him confused, brows furrowed. 
“What does this mean? I told you I can’t afford it.”
“Consider this as a gift from the house, babe.” Jisung smirks, before turning around - walking away from you without uttering another word. 
You look at him dumbfounded, bag in your hand, gaze switching from it to Jisung and then back to the bag, then again back to Jisung. “Wait!”, you shout, making him stop right in his tracks. He turns his body to look at you. You quickly walk towards him, waving the plastic bag in front of his face. “I’ll accept that only if you smoke one with me.”
He looks taken aback - this is new. He doesn’t usually do stuff like this - he just sells it, he never smokes it with his clients. “It’s not professional.”, his friend once said. As if being a weed dealer is even a profession, Jisung can’t help but think. Eventually, he figures out he’s got nothing to lose - it’s just weed, he’s done it a million times before.
“Okay.”
Fifteen minutes later you’re in the backseats of Jisung’s car, in an empty parking lot in the proximity of your place, car windows down so that the vehicle won’t smell like weed once you’re done. You watch him as he takes his time in rolling the blunt, licking the paper slowly, almost sensually. You wonder how come he looks so fucking attractive even when licking a stupid piece of paper - but that’s not the focus. 
“Y/N?”, his voice shakes you off of your thoughts, holding the joint between his fingers and a lighter in his other hand. 
“No, you do it.”, you tell him. 
He chuckles. “Why, feeling shy all of a sudden?”, he teases, bringing the joint to his lips. 
“No, it’s just - I wanna see you do it.”, you admit - you hope he doesn’t notice the way you’re practically drooling over him as he lights the joint, kicking his head back as he breaths out the smoke, the familiar scent filling up your nostrils. 
“God, I missed this.”, he sighs, eyes closed as he fills his lungs with smoke. “It’s been a while.”, he comments, before handing you the joint, which you gladly accept and bring to your lips, doing exactly what he did. 
“How come?”, you ask him, breathing out the smoke as well. “Are you cutting down?”, you ask him. 
He shakes his head, taking the joint from you - fingers brushing against yours, and it makes you shiver. You can feel the familiar tingle between your legs, and you can’t believe you’re getting turned on just because of a slight touch, that sounds pathetic. Your stupid crush on your dealer is pathetic, but it’s not like you can help it. 
“Kinda.”, he shrugs. “I mean, it’s not that I can keep on smoking this shit forever, you know?”, he observes. 
You hum, not really knowing what to say. If Jisung were to stop smoking weed, it’d mean he’d eventually stop selling it too, which would mean that you’d have no reason to contact him anymore in the first place. It’s not like you have anything in common - you don’t share classes together, you don’t even share the same group of friends. He’s a friend of your friend, tho, and that’s how you met him. Not a close friend, however, so it’s not like you’d see him around. 
“Yeah, I get it, that’s exactly how I feel about this.”, you agree with him. 
Jisung passes you the joint, eyes on your lips as he observes the way your lips close around the filter, wrapping around it as you inhale another drag. “I thought you were obsessed with weed.”, he comments, not tearing his eyes off of you as he watches you kick your head back as well. “You’ve been hitting me up like crazy lately. Didn’t think you would be cutting down on weed anytime soon.”, he adds. 
You chuckle - if only he knew. You’re not obsessed with weed, you’re obsessed with him. 
“You’re what?” Jisung asks in a high-pitched voice, looking at you with wide eyes. 
Fuck, there’s no way you actually said that out loud, is there? No, it can’t be possible, you must’ve imagined it. But the way he’s staring at you, kinda shocked, is telling you otherwise. To be honest, you’re as shocked as he is - you weren’t planning on saying that, what is wrong with you?
“I haven’t said anything.”, you try to bluff, but he doesn’t fall for it. 
“Yeah, your lying game is shit.”, he comments. “Now - say that again.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”, you shrug, desperately trying to avoid eye contact with him. 
“I’m talking about…” Jisung shifts in his place, now sitting just a couple of inches away from you as gently grabs you by the chin and forces you to look at him - both yours and his eyes are slightly red, but neither of you are too high. “You saying you’re obsessed with me.”, he repeats your words. “Is it true?”, he asks - it’s like he wants you to give in. 
That you do. If you think about it - what is there for you to lose? It’s not like you two are close anyways. It’s like you’re stuck in a limbo with him - so you decide to be brave and just say what’s been in your mind for the past weeks. 
“Of course it’s true.”, you let out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t even like this shit.”, you point at the joint you’re holding between your fingers. “I just buy it so that I can see you.”
“So I was right when I said you’re obsessed with me.”, he smirks cockily and you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “That explains why you been calling me so often.”, he teases.
You scoff again, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Aw, don’t be like that, babe. I’m just teasing you.”, he takes the joint from your hand, bringing it to his lips once again. “Besides,” he breathes out the smoke and leans closer to whisper something in your ear “I’m obsessed with you too.”
His words send a shiver down your spine, and you pull away to stare at him with wide eyes. Is he for real or is he saying that just to mock you or worse - lead you on? 
“You are?”, you whisper - but in the silence of his own car, he hears you loud and clear. 
He nods, biting his lower lip. “Yeah, I am.”, he confirms. “Have been for a while now.”, his fingers brush delicately against your clothed thigh, but it makes your head spin nonetheless. 
“Why didn’t you say anything, then?”, you frown. 
He sighs, then shrugs. “Because, babe, let’s be real. I’m not exactly boyfriend material.”, he chuckles. “I dropped out of school and sell weed for a living, I’m not the kind of guy parents would approve of, you know?”
“You still haven’t asked me out and you’re already thinking about meeting my parents?”, you tease him, smirking. “I don’t care about that shit, Hanji. If we like each other, we should give it a shot.”, you point out with a shrug. 
“What did you just call me?”, he asks. 
“Hanji.”, you repeat, smiling. “It’s your name in my phone. It’s short for Han Jisung.”, you explain. 
“I like it.”, he chuckles, leaning in closer to your face. “So… can I kiss you now?”, he bluntly asks. 
You nod - and he places his lips on top of yours for a chaste kiss that turns into a make out session not too long after. You can taste weed on each other’s tongues as make out in the backseats of his car, the joint now out, forgotten in the ashtray of Jisung’s car - pretty intact. He has his fingers intertwined with yours, while his other hand is resting on your thigh as you’re practically sucking each other’s faces. You can feel the tingle between your legs become more and more intense - you have to squeeze your thighs in order to find some relief, and he notices, hand climbing up your thigh slowly. 
He gently pulls away from your lips and nuzzles your nose with his. “How high are you on a scale from zero to ten?”, he asks you, looking you in the eyes. 
“Not so much.”, you whisper on his lips. “Enough to know I want to take things further, not too much for you to think you’re taking advantage of me. You?”
“Same.”, he crashes his lips onto yours once again as his hand climbs up, slender fingers no brushing against your clothed core, which makes you whimper against his lips. “Help me slide these off?”, he murmurs, tugging at the waistband of your jeans. 
You nod eagerly, undoing the button before wiggling to slide them under the curve of your ass, together with your panties. You should feel at least a little embarrassed to be completely exposed in front of your crush - but you’re not. Just eager and desperate to feel his touch on your skin. You watch him as he brings two fingers to his lips and then in his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to lubricate them. When he pulls them out, there’s a string of saliva that connects his fingers to his mouth - that sight only is enough to make you whimper, but then he places his fingers on your cunt, right below your clit. 
“A little higher.”, you instruct him, letting out a heavy breath when he finally brushes against your most delicate spot. 
“Here?”, he asks, and the whimper you let out when he starts rubbing your clit has him grinning when you nod, too fucked out already to answer him. In your defense, it’s been a while since you got your clit acknowledged by a man - so your reaction is completely understandable. 
Jisung crashes his lips onto yours once again as his fingers slowly move south, pads now brushing against your slit, and you’re so wet they could easily slip inside. They do. You moan against Jisung’s mouth. It only takes him minutes to bring you close to your orgasm, and you’re actually impressed - he found your g-spot faster than any of your previous partners. 
“God, you’re so damn hot.”, he pulls away from your lips only to look at your fucked out expression - cheeks red and flustered as you’re desperately trying to hold back your moans. “Letting me finger you in my car, in an empty parking lot.”, he continues - his words turn you on even more. “So filthy, anyone could see you right now - getting fingered like a slut.”
You nearly yelp when he calls you that, your orgasm approaching faster. He can feel it. 
“You like it when I call you a slut, don’t you?”, he purrs in your ear - the car is filled with your whimper and the squelching sound of his fingers thrusting inside of you. “My slut.”, he growls. 
You kick back your head and shut your eyes closed, on the verge of reaching your high. That’s when Jisung unexpectedly places his thumb on your clit and starts to draw gentle eight figures, not even thinking about halting his movements with the fingers that are buried inside your cunt. That’s exactly what you needed, and you feel your orgasm wash all over you as you release with a loud whine, practically squeezing Jisung’s fingers with the way your pussy’s clenching, swinging your hips back and forth. 
“Good girl, fuck yourself on my fingers, ride it out.”, he growls in your ear. You ride out your orgasm as he said before you eventually stop moving, your legs are shaky and you’re panting. He retrieves his fingers from inside of you - not wanting to overstimulate you, not tonight at least. He’ll leave that for another time. 
He brings his fingers to his mouth, wrapping his lips around them as he sucks your juices off your skin, swirling his tongue around his digits to make sure to lick them clean and not miss a single spot. “You taste fuckin’ delicious, babe.”, he whines as soon as he’s done swallowing your arousal. 
“I can’t believe we did that.”, you comment with a smirk on your face, sliding your jeans up your thighs, legs feeling a bit jelly. “In your car nonetheless.”
“Yeah, that was wild.” Jisung chuckles. “Like, imagine when our kids will ask us what we did on our first date.”, he chuckles. “What are we gonna tell them?
You snap your head in his direction. “Our kids?”, you quirk an eyebrow at him. “You were scared of my parents not approving of you twenty minutes ago, that escalated pretty fast.”, you tease him, leaning in for a kiss. “Besides, that wasn’t a date.”, you point out. 
“It wasn’t?”, he asks, and you shake your head as a no. 
“I’m pretty sure fingering me in the backseats of your car doesn’t count as a date, Hanji.”
“I like it when you call me that.”, he smiles, nuzzling your nose with his. “I’ll take you out on a date, babe, I promise. A decent one we can tell our kids about.”, he kisses you on the lips.
You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head playfully as you giggle. “If I were you, I’d worry more about how you’re gonna tell our kids you used to be their mom’s dealer, but whatever floats your boat, Hanji.”, you say and he chuckles and you playfully push him. 
“Yeah, maybe we should leave that part out.”, he suggests with a chuckle. 
“Maybe we should.”, you giggle, leaning in closer to rest your head on his shoulder. “It would be a fun story, tho.”
“I really want to take you out, babe.”, he mutters after a while, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I wanna treat you right, like the fucking goddess you are, but I don’t know shit about relationships and romance and stuff like that.”, he lets out a deep sigh. “I’m scared I’ll fuck this up.”
You cup his cheek with one hand, looking him in the eyes. “It’s okay, I’m shit at relationships too, we can learn together.”, you reassure him. “What do you think about it?”
“Sounds perfect.”, he smiles before leaning in for a kiss. And another. And then another. And another. Then another two, until you find yourself lying on your back, his body between your legs, hovering over yours, his erection pressed against your crotch.
You pull away from the kiss, panting, only to ask him, breathless: 
“Do you want to go back to my place?”
☎︎
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like/reblog/comment my works if you enjoyed reading them - it encourages me to keep writing more! ♡
if you want to request something, you can do so by clicking on the "💌" emoji on my profile. write down the scenario you have in mind, the skz member and the rating. i'll start writing asap. ♡
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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months
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~Lazy Jellyfish Writings~
Welcome
REMINDER: UNDER 18 DNI AS MOST OF MY WORK IS NSFW. I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CONTENT YOU CONSUME. PLEASE DON'T PLAGIARISE/TRANSLATE/FEED INTO AI ANY OF MY WORK(S). REBLOGS/RECOMMENDING MY WORK IS MUCH APPRECIATED. REPOSTING TO ANOTHER SITE OR ADDING TO A FIC LIST IS OKAY AS LONG AS YOU CREDIT ME PROPERLY!! 😄 IF YOU GET INSPIRED BY SOMETHING OF MINE PRETTY PLEASE TAG ME IN IT BECAUSE I'D LOVE TO SEE IT.
🪼🖤
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Hello! I'm Jelly! Jellyfish, JJ, any variation of those also welcomed🪼♎🇹🇴 I like to write for fun and started this blog in Nov 2023 thanks to my Miguel O'Hara (ATSV) fixation. I also write for Peter B. and Ben Reilly, though not as often.
I love to gush/talk about Miguel and I mainly write for him at the moment and for the unforeseeable future 🤧. I'm happy to become moots and love to support fellow writers. 🖤 I don't take requests at this time due to personal nerves about meeting expectations and also due to time constraints, I'm sorry! I am also on AO3 and Instagram under the same user: lazyjellyfish300. 🪼
Masterlist below the cut:
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Most of my reader POVS are fem or AFAB, sorry. Since I am a cis female that is the pov I feel I can write the most accurately. I try to exclude reader's appearance as much as possible except clothing. I describe curvy body parts. You might have superficial things like tattoos or piercings once in a while but that's it. I try to do gender neutral every once in a while where I can.) My rating system is my humble opinion & might not be totally correct, read at your own risk.
Updated as of: 5/27/24
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🌶️-suggestive 🌶️🌶️-moderate smut
🌶️🌶️🌶️-very smutty 💖-fluff 💔-angst 🔥-slow burn/smut doesn't happen right away
Miguel O'Hara(Reader x Miguel)
-DD series🌶️🌶️🌶️🔥💔💖 (ongoing-9 chapters/11-links for the chapters will be in each post, Miguel is your Uber Driver with a twist on the og Miguel O'Hara comic) DD series art I have commissioned from the artist @/ejpuki on insta
-As you slept 🌶️💔💖(Twilight AU with Miguel Cullen. He visits you while you sleep, TW: STALKERISH)
-Have I found You?- 💔💖Twilight AU Miguel Cullen, inspired by ending prom scene of the first Twilight movie
-In Between the Bookshelves-💖🔥🌶️🌶️🌶️ Librarian!Miguel AU, a trip to the library has a spicy conclusion
-In a Vial around your pretty little neck 🌶️🌶️💖(you & Miguel wear vials of each other's blood)
-The Stuffed Rabbit- 🌶️💖you go to Build-A-Bear and plan a Valentine's Day surprise for Miguel(same universe as in a vial around your pretty little neck)
-With New Eyes, Every Time-🌶️💖 with Miguel about your date to the aquarium, inspired by one of my moots.
-Books and Puzzles -🌶️💖 Bookstore, coffee and puzzle building date with Miguel
-Miguel Parenting Headcanons🌶️💖 (two parts which are linked in the post)
-Mom and Dad are Fighting on Christmas🌶️🌶️💔💖 (Jerry Maguire inspired, angsty piece with Miguel) also a Valentines spinoff: Mom and Dad are Fighting on Valentine's Day 🌶️🌶️💔💖
-Mom and Dad are Getting Along-quick blurb as an ending to the other two mom and Dad are fighting pieces, on a quiet Mother's Day morning 🌶️💖
-Blurred Lines -🌶️🌶️💔💖, (2 parts)you become his fwb reluctantly in hopes he'll eventually fall in love with you too, but it's not that simple.
-Relationship Weight🌶️🌶️💖soft Miguel reassuring insecure reader
-Bedtime Giggles- 💖short fluffy blurb with Mig
-Breakfast for dinner 💖🌶️-short fluffy blurb with Mig
-What's Mine is Yours 💖-fluffy blurb, Miguel starts to love everything you love as his partner
-An Easter Proposal(s)-💖🌶️ 3 short separate stories about getting engaged to Miguel on Easter, based off 3 different rings to choose from.
-Fortune Cookies💖-fluffy blurb with Mig sharing takeout & fortune cookies
-A Box of Chocolates💖🌶️-trip to the choclatier on your birthday with your boyfriend Miguel
-I'm Here -💖🌶️fluffy blurb with Mig, helping you with your back pain, inspired by another Tumblr user.
-Miguel loves your tattoos- drabble in outline format💖🌶️
-A Day Off At Miguel's💖 -longer fluffy blurb where your boyfriend cheats & Miguel's there to cheer you up.
-Gentleman 💖🌶️🌶️🌶️💔🔥 -chapters 4/?-mini series where you're a broke college student intern at Alchemax and Miguel becomes your sugar daddy
-Long Distance 🌶️🌶️🌶️-naughty dialogue on the phone with him
-Silent - 🌶️🌶️💖 smutty short blurb exploring Miguel's quiet side in the bedroom
-Love Across Dimensions💖💔-fluffy angsty headcanon outline of your relationship. A spinoff from Long Distance. Along with smutty pt 2.🌶️🌶️🌶️💖💔
-Still and All -angsty, heavier piece(lots of TW in description). You have a lifelong STI and you need to tell Miguel when you start dating him. 🌶️🌶️💔💖🔥
-The Woman He Didn't Choose - series ongoing 7 chapters/?-angsty Bachelor AU where you made the final two but he chose the other woman. 🌶️🌶️💔🔥
-Traitor- angsty blurb about your breakup with Miguel inspired by some break up songs🌶️🌶️💔
-Just A Little Carried Away -NSFW Mig blurb 🌶️🌶️🌶️
-Mirror-NSFW Husband!Miguel short blurb 💖🌶️🌶️🌶️
-Hot Tub with a View-Husband Miguel!drabble about doing the nasty in a hot tub on vacay 🌶️🌶️🌶️💖
-Camping with Miguel-camping trip that turns into more than just friends. 🌶️🌶️🌶️💖
-Possessive Miguel drabbles-links to both in this post. One is SFW the other is NSFW but more suggestive & no smut 💖🌶️
-Hand holding during sex-short NSFW Miguel thought🌶️🌶️🌶️💖
-Praise and a HJ-getting Miguel off while you praise him drabble🌶️🌶️🌶️💖
-Miguel's shoulders in the dark NSFW drabble 🌶️🌶️
-Intimacy with Miguel NSFW drabble 🌶️🌶️
-Miguel's obsessed with your legs drabble-NSFW headcanon format 🌶️🌶️💖
-Titty Massage-Miguel holds your tits when stressed drabble🌶️🌶️💖
-Tell Me-hopeless romantic NSFW Miguel blurb where you tell him how much you love him during intimacy 🌶️🌶️🌶️💖
-In Your Name-NSFW Villain! Miguel drabble🌶️🌶️🌶️💖
-Apology-drabble, rainy, middle of the night makeup sex 🌶️🌶️🌶️💖
-One Cabin-🌶️🌶️💖(3 blurbs linked in the post) with Miguel playing on the one bed trope. Instead what if you had to share a cabin with him on a mission?
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Peter B. Parker x Reader
-DBF!Peter B. Parker comes to dinner -your dad's new friend from work comes over for dinner one evening with a spicy conclusion.🌶️🌶️🌶️💖
-Down Bad-short blurbs where you're a stripper and he takes you home-2 parts linked in the post 🌶️🌶️🌶️💖
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Ben Reilly
Dating Headcanons-gn!reader x Ben 🌶️💖
Traitor epilogue- Spider-Woman Reader x Ben 🌶️💖💔 this fic is technically a pairing with Miguel, however the epilogue has a happy ending with Ben after your breakup. 🫶🏽
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Carlisle Cullen
Random Headcanons 🌶️💖
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Gallery (art I've commissioned from artists to accompany my fics/just for fun)
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Art by the amazing ejpuki on Instagram based on Part 1 of my Miguel series DD in which he meets you as your Uber Driver after a drunken night out, and your relationship grows based on the og Miguel O'Hara comic with a twist. Please check out ejpuki on insta and support 🖤
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Art by the amazing ejpuki on Instagram based on Part 3 of my Miguel series DD in which he meets you as your Uber Driver after a drunken night out, and your relationship grows based on the og Miguel O'Hara comic with a twist. Please check out ejpuki on insta and support 🖤
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callsignfate · 2 months
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HELLO HELLO! Happy New Year! From 1 to 10, how would you rate 2023? (10 being the BEST YEAR OF YOUR LIFE and 1 being the worst year)
It's not my first time reading your work (which is amazing), but it's my first time making a request in your blog. I don't see one of those posts with the rules and boundaries to make a request soooo I hope this isn't disrespecting any of your rules.
Valeria Garza could have any woman she wants by her side. But not her personal assistant (reader). Reader always kindly reject valeria every time she invites her on a date or for a drink. Valeria never understand why but respect her decision.
One day valeria finds out reader is a single mother!!
Reader rejects valeria not because she's not interested but because she thinks when valeria finds out she has a kid, she would change her mind.
Take your time and take care 🫶
Valeria x Single mother
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A/N: This is lightly edited as most posts might be for a bit, I'm just finishing all the drafts I left hanging and editing them as much as I can for the night. Thank you Anon for this idea and I have some fluff one-shots for this idea I might post as well. As for my 2023, it was rough so I would say 2 or 3 for most of it but it did have some nice times. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!
TW: Mentions torture and hints to murder, child is gn! but referred to as beautiful.
Loving a woman who runs Las Almas would be a mistake, a huge mistake you always told yourself. Moving here to Las Almas to get away from the man who threatened everything you loved was one thing but to fall in love with a woman who was more dangerous than him was something you cursed at yourself for even thinking about it mentally every day.
The day you caved and took her offer to become some sort of secretary was one that you wish you could regret, but you often didn’t. The pay was great, giving you the chance to give you and your child something you dreamed of the day you had them. Stability. All you did was show people to her office and answer calls that weren’t the dangerous kind. Sometimes you’d keep track of whatever accounts she trusted you with and make sure nothing was coming in or out unexpectedly, easy enough.
You worked efficiently while you thought of the thing that usually plagued your mind, why you? She must have had hundreds of not thousands of people at her disposal, so why you? You didn’t let yourself think too deeply about it as the fear of losing the comfortable life you had made for you and your child over the now two years you worked for her.
You rarely missed days, only taking a few when your kid was sick or needed you, often saying instead that you were sick, she didn’t question it and never told you off for taking a day or two, only eyeing you slightly when you arrived back.
Valeria was always impressed with your work, she didn’t at first need a secretary, rather using it as an excuse to get closer to the woman who ran through her thoughts often when she first heard of a beautiful outsider's arrival to Las Almas, nothing came up that made her worry, and the few things she trusted you with at first always stayed in her inner circle so you were trustworthy, even if the things she told you at first were false, tests to see if the info would end up anywhere else.
As the months went on things got more comfortable, as she hoped they would. Hoping her little flirtatious comments would get through, they did most of the time, not that you weren’t quick to offer a small smile but quickly get back to the point of the conversation. The gifts she gave were met with endless thank you’s and a small smile before she'd find the items worth of money back into one of her accounts soon after.
Valeria was getting slightly impatient and confused, She could have anyone she wanted as most were at her feet, willing to receive gifts of her wealth that she rarely personally used on anything but well-made clothes or the standard needs for herself. Why weren’t you cracking? Why were you evading her efforts so well? Why were you so unwilling to take a gift, other than a holiday bonus? Many others have asked for this and tried to get close to El Sin Nombre for the same treatment you received.
The weekend rolled around again and like always she walked by your empty desk where you had always left a reminder sticky note for her, something that needed to be done over the weekend when you couldn't remind her yourself. She huffed and kept walking, taking a stroll through the streets of her empire for something to do wasn’t the worst idea, you told her many times to try it, and this once she did.
At first, Valeria walked with her men trailing her far back, looking as if they were too just strolling the bustling streets in the crowds. The store windows and many street vendors had nothing she could think of getting you that you wouldn’t return or pay her back for anyway. Valeria’s eyes scanned the street, and the people, many times over, until she spotted you being pulled around by a child who looked strikingly similar to you, you had an exhausted smile as you followed the kid seemingly pulling your arm off as you nodded and watched as the kid pointed to some toy a vendor was selling, she walked through the small crowds as she got closer to hear you talking, you were asking if they were sure if that's what they wanted, the kid nodded quickly, your back was to her but she could already tell that was you, and that was your child that held on tightly to your clothes with a tight fist, anxiously.
Before you could get out the money for the toy Valeria already paid for it, you looked over to her with a smile that fell into shock, the one secret you had desperately held on to, the one thing you had feared her finding out was now indisputable, there was nothing you could say to sway her otherwise. You stood there frozen before clearing your throat and trying to think of something, anything to say.
“Thank.. You.” You finally mumbled out before you looked down to see the toy already in their hands as they moved it around in the air, some dragon toy they had asked for many times, a toy they had only seen a few times because you didn’t want Valeria’s men to see you and possibly report back to her, you were so careful, your head felt like it was building with pressure, the soft thrumming your blood pumping through your veins filled your ears as you assumed they, like your face, were bright red.
Valeria noticed the shock and fear immediately, she wasn't a stranger to people looking at her like this, yet until now you hadn’t. You always had a polite smile and kind words to offer, even small talk when you both had the chance. Valeria was perfect at keeping her emotions hidden, yet this time she struggled to not react in any way to the fear that was so prevalent on your face that it looked like she had tied you to the chair and was getting ready to torture you.
Your mind was racing with anything to say or to do, but you felt paralyzed. She wouldn’t harm you but would she stop talking to you? Offering you small compliments and the job if she found out you were taking sick days for your child instead? You knew Valeria had a soft spot in her somewhere but were you in it?
“They’re beautiful, they look just like you,” Valeria said before offering them a piece of candy from the vendor, which she quickly paid for. Of course, they took it excitedly, with a small thank you before putting it in their mouth.
“Thank you… Again. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I just didn’t want you to worry I wouldn’t be there or that I.. single mothers are somewhat frowned upon sometimes and I-” You rambled on filled with anxiety that felt like the world around you was louder and brighter than before.
Valeria saw this quickly, how anxious you were, how you pulled your child behind you and pressed them against you, for a moment she wished she had a mother who was willing to stand in front of someone deadly and still put themselves between it all. She offered her normal smile and a laugh, hoping to ease your worries.
“I’m not worried, I’m guessing this is why you always told me no to my many advances,” Valeria said with an amused tone, finally realizing it wasn’t that you weren’t interested, but rather you were worried she’d perceive you differently. Valeria was happy to know that her killing that man who ended up putting hits out on you and hunting you down wasn’t a terrible Idea. She could see the smallest resemblance to the father's in the child's face.
“I don’t want anyone in my life that isn't supportive or willing to help me take care of my child, they are my priority, always.” You said as the confidence slowly filled your town, the protectiveness Valeria could see in your eyes.
Before Valeria could say another word, she watched as your child begged to be picked up which you obliged, struggling to carry the bags with everything else. Valeria sighed and clicked her tongue in disagreement while shaking her head before she slid the bags off of your shoulders and tilted her head for you to lead the way to wherever else you were headed.
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naeverse · 4 months
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Divine Touch
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Requested by: Anon! Request: That would be so good if there would be kink series(some aren't tho)! Good thing someone asked for it l'm shy I have a list on mind Imao: Roleplay, breeding kink, Exhibitionism, scene play, age play or ddig, praise kink?, cockwarm?, threesome with peter b parker prob, lactation kink, phone sex?, mirror sex?, dacryphilia, oh maybe like an au where the reader is pregnant n Miguel just get turned on by that LMAO
A/N: I completely adore this request, it's literally the inspiration for the kink series so thank you so much anon! I hope you enjoy the first one! ❤🧡
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🧡staring: Deity!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Maiden Reader
      🏺preview:  
“I must keep the balance in Nueva Yorkhaven or chaos would go rampant upon our lands.” He said, keeping his crimson eyes on you. “So if I take a life…
 I must replace it…”
⚔️summary: After being coerced by your mother into a marriage with a man you didn't love, who treated you poorly, you believed your life was over. It wasn't until you remembered one last divine solution that could possibly help alleviate your wretched situation.
🥟tw/cw: Big Dick Miguel, Breeding Kink, Clit Stimulation, Doggystyle, Grinding, Historical Era, Mythology-Based, Orgasms, P in V, Power Difference, Praising, Unprotected Sex, etc…
🍵Pet names: Cariño (Darling), Pequeñita (Little one), Querida (Dear)
     ⛩️Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I
 🧡 Word Count: 12.3k
(I do not own any of the photos used! All credit goes to the original artist!)
(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)
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(This oneshot contains Breeding do not read, if you are not comfortable)
Breeding kink - The sexual desire to be impregnated or to impregnant another.
**YOU'VE BEEN WARNED**
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As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the beautiful village of Nueva Yorkhaven and bringing upon the covering of night, you, a fair maiden of the town, traversed during the dark hours down the cobblestone pathways. The gentle glow of lanterns that adorned every trail served as a guide towards your desired destination.
You clenched your black cloak tightly to your body, attempting to hide all traces of your being and the basket that you carried. With frantic, cautious eyes, you swiftly flicked them around, trying to detect any lingering presence in your path; but upon finding none, you quickened your pace.
On your covert journey, you passed cottages with ivy-covered walls and huge trees with dew-kissed leaves that danced in the moonlight, welcoming the night.
Your feet, adorned in black Astrids, carried you through the winding routes of the village, leading out into the quiet meadow that surrounded it. You left behind the dreamscape facade of your village to tread warily into the forest.
Following a dirt path that looked to be used before by countless others, it led you deeper into the meadow. Fireflies wove trails of light along the dark road, while the distant hooting of an owl echoed through the woods, making you jump. Your hand landed on your chest, feeling how harshly your heart was pounding.
You knew the consequences if you were caught, but it didn’t matter.
Things had gone too far, and you needed assistance.-
Divine assistance.
The forest was painstakingly quiet. Every rustling of leaves, cracking of wood, along with your timid footsteps, seemed to reverberate through the trees. A gentle breeze brushed past you, filled with the scent of pine and wildflowers, yet a subtle unease clung to the air like sticky sap on tree bark.
With every step, a voice in your mind told you to turn back, to stop.
You soon realized it to be your mother’s.
Her pestering and nagging words clouded your head the deeper you entered the woods.
‘You know traversing the forest in the dead of night isn’t fit for a young lady. Turn back now!’
‘What would Sir Hawthorne think of you?’
‘Turn back now or you would be seen as a disgrace to your father!!’
Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, a shaky exhale passing your lips. Even though it was your own head, your mother’s pestering sounded almost too real; it shook you to your very core and even had you contemplating returning back the way you came when the silhouette of an ancient structure emerged in the distance, causing your worried thoughts to halt.
With a soft gasp, the idea of leaving left you as you hurried along, a sense of relief washing over you. You left behind the unsettling forest and looked upon the worn, yet sturdy stones that held up the quiet sanctuary of your town’s guardian. The large entrance was framed by weathered gray columns, adorned with two flickering torches that casted a soft glow of red-orange into the dark space. The air carried a new sense of otherworldly, different from the feeling of unease you felt before.
You gazed up at the olden engraving of letters, etched into the stone above the massive doors, reading under your breath:
Sanctuary Of Miguel O’Hara Guardian of Nueva Yorkhaven
Just uttering the deity’s name felt ancient and heavy upon your tongue. A huge grin spread across your lips, reading the name of the divine structure once more.
You did it. You actually did it.
You were here…
The harsh grip you had on your basket loosened; anxiety and fear that clung to your being like leeches faded away. You felt an overwhelming sensation of safety and security as you approached the ancient doors.
Despite the feeling of disbelief at your success, you set down your basket and placed both hands onto the ringed doorknobs. The doors were heavy, and it took all of your strength to hear the satisfying creak and soon feel the stone doors move out of their rooted place. You were only able to open them a little, but it was big enough for you to slip through, entering into the sanctuary of your village's infamous guardian.
Instantly a rush of cool air brushed along your body, making you hug your black cloak closer to you. The room was dimly lit with torches and candles as your feet walked along cool ancient stone, guiding you to the heart of the shrine. Respectfully, you drew down the hood of your black cloak, your eyes unable to take in the magnificent sights before you due to astonishment.
You had always heard stories and legends about the great Miguel O’Hara. How he saved your village from many horrific storms, dreadful winters, and blazing droughts. How, with his divine might, he crumbled armies and men who dared to harm his people.
Miguel protected your town and watched over every villager. He was there to pick you and your people up when you fell, whether that was with love, wealth, or glory.
The villagers of Nueva Yorkhaven looked to Miguel for needed support, and he was known to answer your calls of need every time…
Standing and gazing upon your protector's sanctuary, it resembled the great deity perfectly.
The room was styled lavishly in warm reds and muted yellows and oranges, granting a sense of protection to those who entered. Tall pillars rose at each corner, stabilizing the grand building, and the walls were decorated with sacred symbols—images of laurel leaves and celestial patterns that showed Miguel’s guardianship and lasting connection between the divine and mortal realm.
As you move further into the sanctuary, your eyes instantly are drawn to what lies in the center. On an elevated platform adorned with laurel wreaths and symbols of protection was your Guardian’s majestic stone throne, and in front of the throne was an intricately designed altar. The sacred surface was covered with offerings of fruits, flowers, prepared dishes, and tokens of gratitude that were carefully arranged. Candles flickered softly around the tributes as your feet led you towards it.
Nervously, you bit your lip.
You couldn't remember the last time you’d done this.
Before, your family would visit your great deity’s sanctuary once a month, dress his altar with beautiful gifts, and pray for protection until the next month when you’d return once more.
After your arranged marriage to Alden Hawthorne, a man who traveled to your village in search of a wife to betroth, your family stopped visiting.
Sir Hawthorne lacked all youthfulness in his appearance. His facial features showed his age, and he wasn’t a suitor who set hearts aflutter either; instead of his looks doing the speaking for him, his wealth did.
His stature and wealth led many fair maidens of your village to toss themselves at the older male in his late 40s in an attempt to get a grab at his riches.
Of course, without seeking consent, your mother had already given your hand to the salt and pepper-haired male, who, with one glance at you, agreed almost immediately.
You were the most beautiful in your village. A rose that bloomed gloriously amongst ordinary flowers. Due to the poor conditions of your household, your mother sought for more. After your father’s death, she became adamant on finding a living, so she used you to do so.
With the betrothal to Sir Hawthorne in place, from then on, only pesters and nags left the lips of your mother, demanding perfection and a great image. “You will be the wife of Sir Hawthorne, after all. You’ll have to act like it as well, dear," she'll tell you countless times until that dreadful day.
Vows that weren’t written by your hand and said by your heart were read aloud, expensive, lavish rings were exchanged, and the most atrocious kiss was shared.
You didn’t think your life could get any worse until after your wedding when your mother pulled you to the side. With a huge grin and beaming face, she told you what was to occur during your honeymoon.
Something so very abysmal it almost made you retch.
“During that time, the breeding of children will be had. You remember the drawings I’ve done for you—that is to occur.” She said with a smile. “All you must worry about is laying back, spreading your legs, and not being a little pest to him. Got it!?” She spat harshly, proceeding to speak of being a grandmother and having grandchildren to take care of and fill her day, not at all concerned for her daughter who was real and right before her.
And as you anticipated, that night was horrific and excruciating…
It was laden with weeps of sorrow and agony. The booming voice of your mother, that told you repeatedly to not be a pest and to not protest, filled your head while a pain that struck you like a hammer upon a nail hit you over and over again…
It’s a memory you try to efface from your mind.
After the dreadful honeymoon, you, sadly, had to live with him. Sir Hawthorne had a house built in your village, Nueva Yorkhaven, one so grand and modernized that it contrasted greatly with the usual dreamscape cottages.
You hated your life there as every day in the lavish halls of your new home, you were worried about only one thing.
Did Alden’s advances work? 
Would you bear him a child?
You would weep every time the idea crossed your mind. After two months had passed, Sir Hawthorne hired doctors to come to your home. You weren't showing any signs of pregnancy and that worried your ‘husband’ to death.
Finally, after what felt like forever, you breathed a sigh of relief for the first time in your marriage when the doctors told the two of you about the failure of Sir Hawthorne's advances. It appeared to have been a failed impregnation, but one on Sir Hawthorne’s part.
Your ‘husband's’ inability to produce an heir angered him immensely.
After the doctor visit, the facade of your marriage crumbled, and Sir Hawthorne revealed a side of himself that you had feared—he turned abusive—mentally and emotionally.
Every word that left your mouth was seen as an irritation. He demeaned and belittled you and constantly criticized your appearance.
Sir Hawthorne isolated you from villagers, housekeepers, your mother, and forbade you from having friends. He even halted your use and access to his riches—although it wasn't like you used it anyway.
As a sign of punishment, he forced you to assist in keeping up the house. He had housekeepers that worked alongside you, but he purposely gave you higher expectations than the normal help.
Despite the stress of your new job, you found solace in it.
It reminded you of the peaceful times back in your home cottage when things were right.
A time when your father and mother were together, your mother wasn't so cruel, and where you were loved.
It was a memory that always came when hanging clothes to dry or harvesting produce.
It wasn't until Sir Hawthorne discovered your contentment with your punishment that he made things even worse for you. He gave you harsher tasks, such as washing every window of his grand house to sparkle in the sun, redecorating rooms over and over again to his liking, and being made to work even in the dead of night.
The physical labor had become too much as he even denied you access to necessities like food and proper clothing.
You felt trapped.
Stuck in this cycle of degrading and forced labor that felt endless.
Many times you thought of running away, but to where? You didn’t have anywhere to go.
You didn’t have friends; he forbade it.
Your neighbors in Nueva Yorkhaven adored Alden. They’ll think you were the crazy one if you came to them with your troubles.
And you definitely couldn't go back to your mother; she’ll send you back.
It felt hopeless…
Like a blossomed well-kept garden, suddenly, an idea came to mind. One that after all these years, you've completely forgotten was the solution to any villager of Nueva Yorkhaven's debacles.
Miguel O’Hara.
The protector of your village, the guardian of every mortal being born and raised in Nueva Yorkhaven.
He was your refuge, your solution to this mess.
But standing before his altar, inside of his sanctuary, you’ve never felt so disconnected from him.
With shaky hands, you set your basket down upon the stone tiles and untied the black cloak from around your body, laying it down gently onto the stone floor to create a small cushion. You descended upon your knees, a neutral-colored bodice with short sleeves adorning your figure. Aimlessly, your eyes wandered the altar, trying to remember how your family did it before.
When you were all together… 
Father, Mother, and you…
It felt so long ago.
You pushed back the urge to cry as your gaze landed on the throne, a feeling of strength overwhelming you. You lowered your head, closed your eyes, and began to speak and recollect the words your father uttered all those years ago.
“‘O’ Mighty deity of protector and strength. I…I call upon you on this night to ask for your presence.”
You declared with a shaky voice. After a moment, only silence followed and filled the quiet sanctuary.
Fear and worry filled your being. After your father said those words, you remembered feeling a warmth, a rush, a feeling, something!
The only thing you felt was the heat from the candles and the excruciating silence that seemed to span on forever. Your lips trembled, tears beginning to slide down your cheeks.
Did your deity turn his back on you?
Was that why he wasn’t listening?
The thought only made you sob even harder. You lowered your head to the ground, placing your forehead against your cloak.
P-Please…Miguel. I-I need you.”
You cried, the sound of your weeping being the only thing heard after your desperate words.
It felt hopeless… 
It felt like you could feel his presence, but he just wasn’t answering.
Like he was just…
There…
Watching…
In the midst of your sobs, a strong hand cupped your chin, lifting it up.
In alarm, your eyes snapped open coming face-to-face with what you deemed utterly impossible.
“Lift your head mortal. You have shed enough tears.”
The booming voice of your deity said, his crimson eyes holding its divine blend of stoicness and softness as he gazed down at you.
You were unable to speak, only capable of staring back in shock.
Your mighty protector smirked, stroking your tear-stained cheek with his thumb before pulling away. The mere action sent a wave of heat throughout your body, the urge to cry and the sensation of sadness melted from your being.
Unable to keep your eyes off his mighty figure, you watched him walk away from you, his majestic scarlet robe trailing behind him whilst he walked up the steps of the stone platform to take a seat in his throne.
You still couldn’t believe he was here, blinking once, twice, thrice to make sure you weren't mistaking the sight.
Miguel O’Hara, your town’s powerful and divine guardian was, indeed, before you. Your eyes traveled to his seated being, taking in every part of him.
In the dimly lit sanctuary, the great deity sat on his throne. His tanned muscular frame exuded strength, a declaration of his divine might. His dark hair cascaded in waves, framed a chiseled face of stoicness. Crimson eyes stared down at you, the dancing fire of candles and torches reflecting off his red orbs.
Draped in celestial attire, Miguel wore a flowing robe of deep scarlet, adorned with intricate golden patterns. Atop his head, a circlet of gold laurel leaves styled his thick brow and around his neck hung a pendant, both signifying guardianship. To complete the divine being's attire, golden sandals that were crafted with celestial elegance dressed his feet.
Despite the times you came here with your family, Miguel’s appearance was a first.
There were legends and rumors that drifted through the village of his presence gracing the eyes of mortals, but many believed it untrue—but here he was, before you, sitting in his throne with a posture so perfectly regal and straight it was astonishing.
You didn’t know what to do or what to say; his previous touch seemed to be burned into your cheek. With a stunned expression, you stared up at the mighty deity who returned your shocked look with a stern gaze that shook you to your very core.
He then raised a thick eyebrow, his eyes still locked on you. “You appear surprised, yet you summoned me, mortal.” His deep voice seemed to echo inside the small space. You exhaled, breathing out the breath you didn’t know you were holding.
“Y-Yes, mighty deity. I-I did call upon you.” You stammered, not knowing what to do and hastily lowering your head in a bow while remaining in your kneeled position.
You thought you were dreaming. That this was all just a moment occurring in your time of slumber, but the thunderous voice heard before you said otherwise.
“Lift your head and state your reasoning for summoning me, mortal.” He said in a gravelly tone, one that contrasted greatly with his previous touch and soft gaze.
Like the mighty being ordered, you lifted your head, meeting eyes with the deity once more, and instantly you lost the ability to speak. All thoughts escaped your mind as you gazed up at him.
He was majestic just like he was described, painted, and sculpted by mortals; yet, standing before him in the flesh surpassed every interpretation drawn by man.
His tanned skin seemed so radiant and flawless, and his body looked taut and perfect. It didn’t help your stunned state that he was very attractive, despite his face being completely hardened and cold.
“Human. State your reason.”
He repeated, knocking you from your trance. Your lips quivered, trying to find the words, and when you did, you held onto them tightly, not letting them go.
“M-My name is Y/N. I’ve resided in Nueva Yorkhaven since my birth and I-I need your divine assistance, great deity.” You muttered with a voice of little confidence. Deep down, you were still shaken up at the fact that he was here before you, in all of his greatness.
Although the belief of him making an appearance to villagers was thought to be untrue in Nueva Yorkhaven, it was said if he did appear, you were special.
So were you…
Special?
You didn’t feel like it.
The celestial being grunted in disapproval at your words. “Y/N…it’s been ages since I’ve seen you here at my sanctuary, yet you ask for my assistance.” He stated in a rumbling voice that unsettled you like an earthquake.
Your lips trembled, shame visible upon your facial features. “Y-Yes. I-It’s, indeed, been a while since I’ve come to g-glorify you, mighty protector.” You said, tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes due to worry about how this interaction would go.
“I see…” He uttered, his piercing crimson eyes still trained on your small being before his altar and throne. “I hope you have brought a tribute along with your presence, Pequeñita.”
Hastily you nodded, opening the case of your basket and taking out the many offerings you had brought for your divine protector— apples picked from Sir Hawthorne’s garden, a woven beaded necklace made by your mother from your youth, cooked empanadas that you knew were the deity’s favorite, and something that you cherished deeply— the last letter written by your deceased father.
You placed each item in a neat arrangement upon the surface of the altar. “I hope you accept my offerings, ‘O’ great one.” You whispered, your voice carrying a blend of hope and reverence.
Miguel’s eyes lingered upon the sacred surface, taking in your tributes from his throne to settle his gaze upon the cooked meal. “Hmm, empanadas.” He uttered, his voice holding satisfaction at the sight of the delicacies. “You know your deity.” He chuckled, giving you a brief glimpse of his sharp fangs that gave a formidable aura before he turned his gaze back onto you.
“Wonderful choice of offerings, Cariño. I'm deeply pleased.” The great being said, filling you with relief. “As well, I am happy that you have come back to me after all this time.” He said, a comforting smile spreading across his tanned lips that brought a sense of warmth inside.
You placed a hand on your heart, giving your deity a deep bow once more. “I am grateful for your comforting words, mighty deity.” You said, a satisfied grunt leaving your protector’s lips at your appreciation.
“Now, tell me, mortal. How can I assist you?” He asked, his crimson eyes seeming to draw you in as well as his fanged smirk. You gulped, apprehension filling your being at his anticipated question.
You were aware of the reason you sought the great deity, but you didn’t know what other way for your life to be fixed if not for the dreadful request you were about to utter.
“Great deity, I…I need you to…
Get rid of my husband.”
You said in a trembling voice. A deafening silence filled the sanctuary after your shocking request, one that even seemed to surprise the great being.
His thick eyebrows rose on his face, his regal posture faltering upon his seat. “You want me to…get rid of your husband?” He inquired, his powerful voice demanding clarification and certainty, bringing you to nod.
You’ve heard of the great being ridding your village of bad people, of individuals like murderers, thieves, and outlawed criminals who came to seek refuge, but he’d done it of his own free will.
There wasn’t a story where a villager asked for the assistance of the protector to eradicate anyone, so it felt odd and a little scary to be the first.
Miguel hummed, his crimson eyes roaming over your being before returning to your face. “Pequeñita, I cannot lie - your request surprises me.” He said, studying you as he spoke. “Your husband is Alden Hawthorne, is that correct?”
Your eyes widened at your mighty protector’s knowledge of your husband, but you should have known - he watched over the villagers of Nueva Yorkhaven, after all.
“Y-Yes, protector. Alden Hawthorne is my…husband.” You replied, finding it hard to prevent yourself from speaking in disdain at the role the horrible male had in your life. While you spoke you kept your head lowered in a way that still showed respect but attentiveness to your great deity.
Miguel hummed at your agreement, shifting to rest his elbow on the armrest of his stone throne and placing his chin onto the knuckles of his divine hand that was covered with golden bands. The change caused his scarlet robe to ripple with his movement and the light to bounce off his circlet golden laurel leaves that sat upon his head.
“Alden Hawthorne.” He scoffed. “The foreigner who has entered my lands and who hasn’t even come to meet me?” He asked in disdain—it seemed Sir Hawthorne hasn’t made a good impression with your villager’s mighty guardian.
“Great deity, y-you are correct. Sir Hawthorne, i-isn’t from Nueva Yorkhaven. He comes from New England.” You said. “Sir Hawthorne also doesn't know of your divine presence upon our lands.” You explained to him in a shaky voice. A surprising fanged smirk spread across his tanned lips at your explanation. “You do not have to be formal when it comes to him, Pequeñita.
It’s just you and me.”
His words made your heart flutter. At your guardian’s request, you realized what you’ve been saying. Alden and your mother had taught you to always speak of your ‘husband’ in such a way—to always address him formally. It had become such a normal thing for you that despite despising your husband, you still did it.
Even now before your great deity, you were speaking such a foul name.
You bowed your head once more in appreciation. “O-Of course. I-I will not be formal when addressing him, ‘O’ great one.” You said, a little too delighted at the thought of deserting such a name that gave you a sense of freedom from your dreadful husband.
“As well as me.”
The divine being added with a small smile. Your eyebrows furrowed, not believing what your great deity just said. You looked up at him to see his crimson eyes gazing back at you, still holding their sternness but now a hint of tenderness was found.
It felt odd for him to ask you, a mere mortal, to abandon the formal names that were meant to be used to glorify and show his divinity. It was hard to abide by such a surprising request, but for your great protector, you would attempt to.
“I-I will try my best, M-Miguel.” You whispered, his name still holding the same weight when you read it upon the sanctuary entrance.
Miguel smirked proudly, leaning back in his seat and resting both of his hands on the armrests, using his thick finger to trace patterns into the stone of his throne as his scarlet eyes never left you. “Good mortal. Now, this…Alden.” The divine being said, returning back to your request at hand.
“I knew of him to be a problem when he first stepped into the village of Nueva Yorkhaven.” He said with a disapproving head shake. “No good comes from mortals who think of themselves as gods.” He growled, his lips turning up into a scowl. He looked at you once more, his crimson eyes settling on your kneeled being before him. “Tell me, what problems has this mortal caused in my lands?” Miguel inquired, his face hardening.
You wetted your lips, preparing the words that you were to tell to your mighty guardian. “Alden Hawthorne shows little interest in knowing your divine greatness upon our lands.” You began. “He…built a home by taking down the sacred trees of the village, and he uses others to serve him… l-like a deity.” At your words, Miguel’s thick eyebrows narrowed, his crimson eyes seeming to darken. “This mortal is living off the backs of people - My people?”
“Y-Yes, Miguel.” You confirmed causing him to snarl, his eyes wandering the room in rage before settling on you.
He looked to be sensing something, his crimson orbs glowing for a second, while his finger tapped the armrest of his throne in steady, thunderous beats, all the while keeping his intense gaze on you.
It was rather unnerving…
“But that isn’t why you want him gone…Is that right, Y/N?”
His surprising question struck you right in the heart. Every cutthroat word, demand, and task that Alden had given to you came rushing back in an instant.
“Y-You are right. T-The words I previously spoke i-isn’t the reason I want Alden gone.” You sniffled, trying to hold back tears that threatened to fall down your cheeks. Miguel’s eyes softened, his attention drawn to your trembling being. “Speak to me, pequeñita. What has this…foreigner done to you?”
His question only made the harsh memories flood back to you like a tidal wave. You shakingly exhaled, blinking back tears. “Frankly, if I were to recollect every wrongdoing that Alden has ever done to me, I’m afraid, you’ll be here forever, Miguel.” You confessed sadly, just remembering everything Alden had done to you was like an endless web of thorns, each holding a prickling reminder of the pain he has caused; some greater than others.
“Then forever, I shall be.”
Miguel’s deep voice filled your ears, brimming with comfort and warmth that instantly soothed your broken heart. Meeting his eyes, you found his enchanting red orbs holding love. “Tell me, Cariño,” he urged. “I might already know what you will say, but I want to hear it from your beautiful lips—if you may, my dear.” Your heart fluttered at your deity’s compliments and endearing names.
You knew speaking of this would only make you more emotional, but you knew you must.
For your deity you’ll do anything…
Before you spoke, Miguel gave you a small smile. “And if you may, will you come closer? I want to see you before me.” He asked, his request leaving you stunned once again. No one was ever to transverse further than the altar, but at your divine protector’s wishes, you rose to your feet.
Your bodice trailed behind you as you walked up the stone steps of his platform to step directly in front of him. His divinity seemed to radiate from him. One could instantly feel Miguel’s superiority and it made you want to kneel and glorify him.
You kept your eyes on your feet as even when he was sitting, Miguel still towered over you. A small chuckle passed his lips when you felt his divine fingers take hold of your chin, lifting it up to meet his gaze.
“Are you ready to begin, pequeñita?” He inquired, his intense gaze causing your legs to tremble slightly. You wet your lips, nodding slowly. “Y-Yes, Miguel.” You whispered. He gave you a fanged smile and released you to settle his hands on his armrest, giving you a nod to begin. You took a deep breath before starting from the beginning.
“M-My mother married me off t-to Alden two years ago.” You said, trying to hold back the agonizing desire to burst into tears. “I never liked Alden, ever since I casted my eyes upon him for the first time - he was prideful, egotistical, and a womanizer.” You explained.
“O-Our marriage wasn’t consensual from the start and as time passed I felt like I was losing control of everything. M-My mother led my life like it was her own, driving me to seal my dreadful fate with Alden in the spring.” You said in a trembling voice, a tear beginning to stream down your cheek at the recollection.
You couldn’t meet your great deity’s eyes, certain you’ll break down into a fit of tears; so you pressed on without casting him a glance. “A-After the wedding, t-the honeymoon occurred…” You trailed off, that horrific night coming back to you. A shaky exhale passed your lips, the trembling of your body only intensifying.
A large, rough hand was placed on your waist, the tremors instantly coming to a halt. “You do not have to dwell on details if it pains you so.” Miguel voiced calmly, stroking your waist with his mighty thumb.
With a small sniffle, you nodded slowly, deciding to continue, bypassing that painful night. “I-I was forced to live with him afterward, a-and he was hoping that I would bear a child for him.” Your voice quivering as you spoke. Miguel’s face remained unshaken, but the subtle tightening of his fingers against your waist revealed his inner turmoil.
Once you caught your bearings you continued. “I-I couldn’t help but be a little relieved when I discovered that I-I wouldn’t. T-The doctors were trying to be modest when they spoke to us, but we discovered that Alden couldn’t bear himself a child even if tried.” You said.
“H-His body couldn’t will it.”
To your surprise, a small smirk spread across Miguel’s lips at your words. “Ah, you see everything must be balanced, Cariño.” Miguel uttered. “Alden constantly took from the world, in turn, his ability to reproduce was taken from him.” He said so wisely with a voice of might. A greater burst of relief and satisfaction filled your being at your deity’s words.
“I-I’m grateful for that occurrence, Miguel. Very much.” You said very appreciative, recalling the many days and nights you spent stressing and worrying. Miguel caressed your skin through your beige and black bodice, the mere touch making your body burn up. “You are welcome, pequeñita, and you may continue.”
With a nod, you proceeded. “Because of his inability to create, Alden became angry at everyone and everything, but especially me.” You sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “He began to treat me unwell, such as demeaning and speaking vulgarly to me in such a ridiculing manner.” You tried to explain in a stable voice, but failed miserably. Miguel listened intently, his mythical eyes never leaving your being as you spoke.
“Alden Hawthorne made me into his personal servant, and when he saw that wasn’t a harsh enough punishment; h-he made things worse by giving me impossible tasks to complete and dehumanizing me.” Your lips trembling horribly as you recalled the terrible memories. “A-And for two years, I've lived this horrific cycle of degradation a-and harsh labor and…
 I just wish to be free…” 
You said sadly, allowing your final words to fill the air. When you looked up at your great protector, he was fuming. Miguel’s eyes were darkened and anger could clearly be seen in his facial features despite his attempt to keep a hardened face. 
You’ve never seen your deity so furious, even the flames upon the candles and torches inside of the sanctuary seemed to intensify with his growing rage. “He’s really done these things to you, pequeñita?” He inquired through gritted teeth and sadly, you nodded. 
He growled, baring his fangs in fury. “So this useless leech believes he can come to my lands, live upon it and use and hurt my people?” Miguel hissed, his hand continuing to caress your waist in a soothing manner despite his palpable rage. 
You didn’t know if to be scared or appreciative of his shared disdain for Alden. Your divine protector’s anger was causing the entire room to heat up, the flames of the lights to burn larger with his rising fury. His narrowed crimson eyes moved in thought, his large hand lifting from your waist to settle on the armrest of his stone chair. 
Miguel's stern gaze landed on you, a deep exhale passing his tanned lips, causing the raging fire of the torches to settle.
“Allow me to consider your request…” 
He said as you hastily lowered to your knees before him, casting your eyes to the ground. 
During judgment, the great being would go into a state of complete thought. Like you've read in your youth, during this time, he'll become knowledgeable of the outcomes of his choices and if the human before him is worthy to be graced with their request…
And depending on their request, they could be struck down by Miguel himself in the place they stand…
You chewed your shaky lip, anxiety overwhelming you like an overflowing well. Being the first villager with the request of eradicating a human, it could be seen as murder, a disruption in the land of Nueva Yorkhaven. 
Your mind raced of what would occur. 
Would Miguel deny you your request, send you back to your life of torment and anguish by Alden, or strike you dead where you stand?
But there could be a possibility he does neither…
That he'll grant your request and you could finally be graced with the peace and freedom that you've yearned for…
However, you didn't want to get your hopes up…
If living by your mother's cruel words and residing with Alden Hawthrone has taught you anything is that hope strikes the heart deeper than any weapon when used carelessly.
And right now, you couldn't be careless to believe you'll reach the light at the end of the dark path. 
It'll only wound you even more if you do…
So, with a pounding heart, you awaited your great deity's next words, chewing your bottom lip raw and clenching your bodice so tightly that your knuckles turned white as you waited…
..
.
“I've come to a decision, mortal.”  
Your heart dropped, harshly gulping. Shakingly, you looked up to meet your deity's piercing crimson eyes, his face completely devoid of emotion. Giving him a curt nod to show your attentiveness, you prepared yourself for the worse—that he would reject your request and even worse, punish you for asking him such a thing. 
You were shaking in fear, full of anxiousness of what he decided that your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.
“With the request that you've traveled to ask me Y/N, I've come to the decision to…
Complete it…” 
Your eyes widened, everything seeming to have come to a stop. You were certain you had stopped breathing. “W-what?” You stammered breathlessly, looking up at Miguel’s stoic face in surprise. “I’ll rid the world of your husband, like you asked.” He said, your heart skipping a beat at his clarification. 
But before you can utter your astonished appreciation, his next words made you freeze.
“But, you must do something for me in return.” 
With furrowed eyebrows, your shock face turned into full of worry as you gazed up at your deity. You wanted Alden gone, but you were a little concerned at what the price you’ll have to pay to do so; 
However, your desire outweighed your fear. 
Hastily, you bowed your head once more, pressing your forehead onto the stone tile before his mighty feet. “W-whatever you need, Miguel. I-I’ll satisfy it.” You declared in a voice full of desperation. 
A hum left Miguel’s lips, before he ran his fingers through your hair, the action causing you to look at him. His piercing crimson eyes instantly meeting your poignant ones. 
“Don’t agree until you know my terms, Cariño.” 
He uttered mysteriously causing a knot of anxiety to build inside of your belly. You nodded slowly, chewing your bottom lip. Miguel leaned back in his seat, his eyes still on your kneeled being before him. “I spoke previously about a balance. You do remember that, right pequeñita?” He inquired, causing you to nod. “Y-Yes, I remember.” You told him, a little worried about how the balance of life was important when it came to your request; it didn’t help that Miguel’s face gave no hints on what he could possibly mean, making you even more nervous.
“I’ve never had one of my people request to take the life of the living. Due to this wish being from a mortal, I must demand something in return.” He explained, tapping his finger against his stone armrest. You wet your lips, looking from his large hands that were decorated with gold rings to up at his mighty tanned face. “And…w-what do you require, Miguel?” You asked, feeling your heart quicken. Your great deity’s eyes narrowed, his face turning completely stern. 
“I must keep the balance in Nueva Yorkhaven or chaos would go rampant upon our lands.” He said, keeping his crimson eyes on you. “So if I take a life…
 I must replace it…”
Miguel trailed off, his words repeating themselves over and over in your mind, yet you were still puzzled about what he needed in return. “Miguel…I-I do not understand.” You honestly said to your great deity, and Miguel didn’t hesitate to tell you. 
“If I am to kill Alden Hawthorne, you must bear me a child to replace the life taken, Y/N.” 
His voice seemed to echo and bounce off the walls of your mind, repeating itself for eternity, but you still couldn't believe what your great deity needed from you.
“Y-you want me to bear a child for you? In return for Alden being…gone?” You asked in astonishment. Miguel grunted in agreement, only making you even more baffled.
“But…a-a deity mating with a human is forbidden.” You reminded the great being even though you already knew his knowledge of the ancient laws. Miguel nodded at your words. “Indeed, but when it comes to…circumstances such as this, the laws are allowed to be bent.” He stated, his words causing a wave of heat to fill your being.
“So, Y/N…will you accept my terms in exchange for Alden Hawthorne to be eradicated or leave my sanctuary without my divine assistance?” The great deity inquired, his crimson eyes trained on your kneeled being before him. You could feel his gaze traveling along your body as you pondered your decision.
‘If I agree, Alden will be gone, things can go back to the way they were before his appearance into my life…but I'll have to bear the child of my great protector — and not just any child, a demigod!’ You thought in disbelief, chewing your bottom lip.
‘But if I do not, I'll return back to my dreadful life of sorrow being a mere servant to a man who I'm to call my ‘husband.’’ You pondered, trying to discover which choice would be better.
The thought of returning back to Alden was a nightmare, but you couldn't help the uncertainty that was bubbling inside your stomach like a potion being brewed by the village doctor at the thought of bearing such a mighty being. It felt like a huge responsibility, one that you weren't confident you would be able to handle.
You lowered your head in respect, gripping the fabric of your neutral-colored bodice in your fists. “M-Miguel, I…do not believe I-I’m the right person for this task.” Sincerely you told him in a trembling voice. “I-I want A-Alden gone, but I’m afraid of disappointing you.” Your words of ambiguity reverberating off the walls of the ancient sanctuary before fading into silence.
The feeling of Miguel’s piercing gaze upon you was intense as he grunted in understanding. “I comprehend your reluctance to agree to my terms, but without me, your fate will be jeopardized, my dear.” The divine being said, his deep voice causing you to lift your head and meet his perfectly chiseled facial features once more. His face still held its stoicness, but his eyes, like before, held a look of tenderness that made you warm inside.
Miguel leaned towards you, the scarlet robe shifting slightly to give you a glimpse of his toned pec underneath as he cupped your face in his mighty hand. “With my child, you would grow stronger.” He said, his eyes wandering your face whilst his fingers held your cheek with such gentleness. “This child shall heal all the wounds of your heart and return the joy you’ve lost back into your life, Cariño.” He explained, his expressions full of love and compassion, the most emotion you’ve seen since his appearance.
“This baby is your refuge— your solution if you wish to live in peace and happiness once more, Y/N.” He cajoled, the more he spoke, the more enticing his deal was…
Miguel, of course, was right…
The thought of having a demigod, a mighty being, a child would, indeed, help everything…
Before departing from your dreadful mother, she spoke heavily about you bearing a child—one that she could care for and love.
During that time, you didn’t understand her reasoning, only seeing it as her not loving you anymore and wishing to replace you, but it wasn’t that at all. 
Your mother was wishing for something to fill the hole in her heart that was created when her husband, your father, passed away. She yearned for a grandchild that could help her mend her sadness and grief, which her desires blinded her from the pain she was causing you. This revelation changed your view of your mother. Over the years, you’ve grown to despise her when really, she was broken just like you.
Perhaps, like your great protector has said, this child could fix everything. With their mere divine presence, they can restore the good in your life and return it to how it was before…
Your mother, back to her happy and loving self.
Alden Hawthorne gone.
And lastly, peace and joy being restored to your life.
If this child was to impact your life this greatly, you couldn’t help but want to agree to these terms.
It seemed as if it was your last hope.
Your last chance to make things right…
Miguel stroked your cheek with his thumb, drawing you from your thoughts and back to the grand decision beforehand. “So what will it be, Cariño?” The divine being asked, his eyes seemed to glow with hope and reverence, the look rather foreign on the great protector. After thinking it over, you knew your answer, causing you to give him a hesitant nod.
“I-I agree…” You uttered sincerely. “I’ll bear your child and bestow upon it the love that I could only have wished for in my years of being with Alden.” You affirmed, keeping your eyes on the deity and holding the confidence in your voice.
At your declaration, Miguel gave you a warm, fanged smile. “I’m delighted to hear your acceptance of my terms, querida.” He said, caressing your cheek with his mighty fingers before pulling away.
"But may I confess something in return?" 
He inquired, returning to his regal posture with his arms positioning themselves upon the stoned rests of his throne. You were intrigued, yet worried about what his confession could be.
Was it about the child? 
Your fate? 
What secrets could possibly be shared from a divine being to a mere mortal? 
It was a troubling thought...
Giving him your approval with a nod, you shifted on your knees into a comfortable position, awaiting the deity’s confession.
Miguel smiled, keeping his crimson eyes on you. "I’m known as a being of protection, a divinity that is to guard the people of Nueva Yorkhaven, but that is my only role— it’s what I was created to do." His deep voice echoed off the walls of the sanctuary and blended well with the flickering of candles and torches inside; but to your surprise, the deity’s usual stern expression suddenly saddened.
"But recently I’ve grown to want more…"
He uttered, silence following his words. You were stunned at his confession, never wondering from the great protector’s perspective that possibly he could desire something other than being a guardian.
You felt sympathy for him…
"What is it that you want?" You asked with a compassionate voice, one that seemed to be new to the great being. His thick eyebrows furrowed and his posture faltered. Miguel tilted his head at you, confusion found in his usually stoic facial features. "I’ve…never had someone ask me such a thing." Miguel admitted, a soft and uncertain chuckle passing his lips. The mere question of his desires seemed to cause him to be unsettled.
"M-My apologies." You began. "It’s just…humans always come to you with requests and desires, and you consult them each and every time." The words being pulled from your being as your mouth continued to move. "Yes, we bring you offerings and tributes to thank you, but what is it that you truly want, Miguel? What is it that you seek but believe it’s too far away that even you cannot seem to grasp?" You sincerely asked. 
Miguel’s crimson eyes widened,  his defined Adam's apple moving with a hesitant gulp "What I desire sounds rather silly, but it’s a mortal want, something as a deity I find to be impossible to obtain." He said with a small laugh, the riddle troubling you. Miguel smirked, taking in your confused expression.
"I desire love, little one."
Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. You weren’t expecting that to be what he wanted from the world. Like he had stated, it sounded like a human desire rather than from a great being that has lived upon the world for many, many years.
Miguel took in your face as he shook his head, a snicker passing his tanned lips. "I know, a silly desire from a great being as myself, but I want to love like you, humans." He said once more, his expression turning into one of deep thought.
"I do not mean love as in worship, but intimacy and connection…I want to experience what it is that causes mortals, such as your mother, to not be able to live on without the presence of their loved one." Miguel said, looking off whilst he spoke.
"I want to feel the beating of the heart and the flutter of the stomach that you humans write of in stories and tales. I desire a love that drives and strengthens me; one that courses through my being and is the reason I breathe." He admitted so vividly that it could be seen as he turned his red orbs back to you. His eyes seemed to slightly glow a bright red hue.
"But that isn’t what I wish to confess to you, Cariño."
You were even more surprised than you were before at his words. "W-What is it that you'll l-like to share, Miguel?" You muttered with a voice stained with anxiousness. You were nervous to ask what he really wished to reveal that was even more shocking than what he stated before.
Miguel’s entire face hardened, his stern eyes trailing along your being, taking in every part of you—the aged bodice that framed your figure perfectly, the dark circles under your beautiful eyes, and the failed effort of taming the unkempt hair upon your head.
Even in this state, something was happening and it troubled the great being immensely.
"You’ve…done something to me."
He simply stated, causing your breath to become stuck in your throat. "W-what?" You asked in confusion and fear, not understanding what he could mean. "You’ve done something to me, human." He repeated, his piercing gaze never faltering from your kneeled being.
Your eyebrows furrowed in perplexity, his statement leaving you completely bewildered. Despite how troubled you were by his words, you kept silent, looking down at your lap as Miguel's thunderous voice filled the sanctuary once more.
"When you arrived and called out to me in tears, I couldn’t stop myself from appearing before you," he stated. "When you told me your request of wanting your husband gone and your reasoning, it made my heart behave…oddly, especially when you did what no human has ever done and asked me what I desired." He tried to explain; however, his gravelly voice was laced with rigor and disarray.
Your heart dropped at his explanation of these "odd" feelings he was experiencing.
‘He’s not feeling what I think he’s feeling, is he?”
You pondered, biting your lip and rising slowly to your feet. “M-Miguel, I do not wish to speak out of turn or assume incorrectly, but is it perhaps that you are experiencing what you desire…? 
Love?”
As if a lantern was sparked inside of a dark forest, Miguel’s eyes widened. “It…It’s possible.” He replied in a suspicious voice while his gaze roamed along your figure once more before settling on your face. “To be honest, I’ve found you captivating since I first saw you in my sanctuary, Y/N.” He confessed with a small smile. “But it did sadden me to hear the debacles in your life. 
I would’ve eradicated Alden sooner to prevent them.”
His tone was completely cold and serious as he looked at you, but your heart fluttered at his natural protectiveness, something you wished you had alongside you in the years of being Alden’s wife-servant. “But…with your help, we can fix them now.” You whispered, remembering the terms of your agreement with the great being that brought a smile to his lips.
“Indeed…” He replied in a tone that he, perhaps, didn’t mean to sound erotic but made your cheeks burn nonetheless. You gulped, trying to regain your composure. “And…how would this be done?” You inquired, believing it to be a divine touch of his hands upon your belly would magically create a baby into your womb.
But this was far from a fairy tale…
“To seal our terms, we must perform it in connection to one another.” He explained.
“As one.”
You suddenly felt like fainting. The thought of experiencing that, with the great protector, shocked you more than anything you’ve heard in your time in the sanctuary.
Completely stunned, you could only look at him with an agape mouth and widened eyes. Miguel laughed. “Don’t be so surprised, human.” He chuckled, suddenly taking your hand and pulling you onto his lap.
With a gasp, you found yourself upon his thick thighs, your legs resting upon the taut muscles. Your cheeks reddened as instantly you were aware of how close the two of you were—the divine silk of his scarlet robe and your bodice being the only obstacles between the two of you.
You gulped, the action not helping your rapidly beating heart like you hoped. Snapping you out of your thoughts, Miguel cupped your cheek in his large hand, caressing your skin with his thumb as his crimson eyes roamed along your face.
“I know your first time was…painful,” He said sympathetically, continuing to stroke your cheek soothingly.
“But I’ll be sure to replace that memory to be something truly wonderful.”
He promised, his other hand moving along your side, feeling your body through your bodice. A shaky exhale passed your lips, eyes fluttering at the sudden intensity of sensations that were coursing through your being. You believed that due to his divinity, it was causing everything to be more heightened, every touch seeming to linger and burn into the surface of your skin despite fabric blocking his bare touch.
You couldn’t help but nod in approval, craving his divine touch. Miguel smiled, drifting his hands down to run along your legs, disappearing under your bodice to bring your housekeeper dress up and over your head. He dropped the neutral colored bodice on the ground beside his throne, revealing the white chemise that covered your bare body underneath.
He sucked in a breath at the sight, caressing your thighs and rear. “So beautiful, little one.” He purred, placing a hand to the back of your head and pulling you in for a kiss. You instantly gasped as he kissed you passionately, massaging your chewed lips with his tongue before entering your mouth to taste you.
You’ve never experienced intimacy in this manner, allowing him to take the lead and bashfully returning the kiss. Miguel’s arms wrapped around your body, pulling you flush against him whilst he continued to kiss you. Every part of his being wasn't left unnoticed. 
It was impossible.
It was hard to ignore how his pecs pressed into your peaked chest through both of your clothing, his burly arms and muscles that held you snug against him, and his thick thighs that flexed underneath your legs; even the intensity of his body heat was causing your core to throb in desire, a feeling you’ve never felt before. Everything about your deity was slowly blinding you, like a heavy fog was briskly clouding your mind with the only light source being him.
You wanted him, needed him to be able to see clearly again, and Miguel, like always, was there to cure your debacle.
He pulled away from your lips, the lingering buzz and taste of him still on your tongue and mouth. “Are you ready?” He asked, caressing your bare thighs soothingly, his suggestive question causing a pit of uncertainty and fear to fill your being. The memory of your dreadful honeymoon with Alden rushed to the surface along with the excruciating pain, sorrow, and the suffocating feeling of helplessness that followed.
Miguel instantly saw the fear that grew upon your face, bringing him to take your chin in his powerful fingers, his eye contact with you, unshakeable. “What occurred with Alden will never happen again,” he sternly said, his crimson eyes roaming your face, taking in every expression.
“If you are worried, the pain will not exist with me; your body will be too consumed with…other feelings that it will not allow it.” Miguel reassured, stroking your cheek. “And if, by chance, the pain does occur, don’t hesitate to speak—to tell me to cease, and I will. Do you understand me, querida?” The great protector inquired.
With trembling lips, you couldn’t help but nod, wholeheartedly believing his words of assurance. In Miguel’s arms, you’ve never felt safer, and you trusted that he would make this intimate experience with you enjoyable.
The deity gave you a smile, reaching down to undo his robe and drawing back the scarlet fabric to reveal his perfectly defined olive pecs, abs, stomach, and thighs; but what instantly got your attention was the enormity that sprung up from the red fabric to rest against your belly.
In all of your life, you’ve only seen the male’s intimate part once, and it was with Alden; but his was nothing compared to the great being’s.
Miguel’s tanned member was large and thick with a bulging vein and an angry mahogany tip. It pointed up to the ceiling, perfectly erect and hard. The sight intimidated and aroused you as you looked up at Miguel with stunned eyes. Miguel chuckled at your astonished expression, running his fingers through your hair. “We will take it slow,” he said, consoling you once more.
You bit your lip, looking back down at the size of his length, trying to imagine how it’ll possibly fit.
It seemed incredulous.
Your eyes snapped up at Miguel at the feeling of his hand beginning to draw your white chemise up, revealing your bare rear underneath. A heavy blush spread across your cheeks at being exposed in front of your mighty protector, drawing a laugh to rumble from his chest at your flustered state.
His crimson eyes looked down at your exposed crotch and up at you. “Do you mind if I touch it?” He asked, his tone sweet and not wanting to overstep. “I just need to see if you are…
Ready.”
Miguel explained, but you didn’t understand what he meant. Your mother had never gone into thorough detail when it came to intimacy, only stating this was how babies were born and what occurred, other than that, you were lost.
Nevertheless, you placed your trust into your mighty protector, giving him a nod. You assisted him by lifting your chemise to your stomach, allowing him more access to your sensitive area whilst you nervously awaited for his touch.
Miguel looked pleased at your approval, moving his ringed fingers between your thighs to run the pads of them along your folds. You sucked in a breath, eyes instantly becoming hazy at his divine touch. Miguel clicked his tongue at your lack of saturation before pulling away. He looked up at you, meeting your flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes. “You aren’t…wet enough.” He stated, causing your eyebrows to furrow as he continued. “We’ll have to get there before we begin.”
Despite your perplexity, you followed his every word absentmindedly. Miguel placed his hands on your waist and slightly lifted you upon the girth of his cock. He groaned softly, his length laying against his stomach while your folds rested on the base of it. You moaned softly at the feeling of his warmth and hardness in between your folds.
Miguel looked up at you, a fanged smirk on his lips as he rocked you against him. The most unlady-like sounds began to be pulled from your throat at the sudden bursts of pleasure; his cock sliding between your folds and pressing into your sensitive bud with each push and pull of your hips upon him.
The great being grunted and groaned, his crimson eyes looking between the grinding of your pussy along his cock and up at you. “How does it feel?” He inquired, but you were unable to speak.
The pleasure was so intense and foreign, a tingling sensation seeming to sprout from your core and throughout your body. With clouded ears and dazed eyes, you noticed the divine being snicker softly, satisfied that you were enjoying it.
He gripped your hips tightly with his large hands, grinding your body along his cock with much force and speed causing your heavy gasps to change to loud moans in an instant. A wetness began to spill from your core, coating your thighs and his cock with each nudge of his base and tip into your swollen bud.
In all of your life, you’ve never felt this blissful. Naturally, you overheard the many housekeepers at Alden’s mansion speak of this type of intimacy with their husbands and lovers—of euphoric feelings that were so addicting, one could become entranced by the activity.
At the time, you couldn’t understand…
Your time with Alden Hawthorne was anything but enjoyable and euphoric as the ladies spoke of, but now…
You understood what they meant…
Everything about this moment was what they described—euphoric, blissful, and most of all, addicting.
Your hands landed upon his broad shoulders, a heat pooling at your stomach as you took control, sliding your hips forward and pressing your core along his base with each grind. Miguel’s large hand held your lower back to steady you, but his attempt in holding in his groans was intensifying the feeling. 
“Just like that, pequeñita.” Miguel moaned softly, meeting your dazed gaze. “You know how to please me.” He chuckled between his heavy breathing, the praise only making your stomach tighten like the thread of a spinning wheel about to snap.
“M-Miguel…” His name fell from your lips in a whine as your thighs began to tremble and still. You were feeling like you were about to burst with each ongoing friction upon your sensitive bud. 
“I can’t…Something’s c-coming.” You whimpered, gripping his shoulders tightly, blunt nails piercing the skin, but it didn’t seem to bother the divine being. At your words, you felt Miguel’s massive length twitch against your core, and a soft groan to escape his lips. “Can you hold it for me, pequeñita?” He inquired in a stable voice, despite being so aroused. The tension in your belly only heightened at his request, however, you bit your lip, nodding. 
Miguel grinned at your willingness and obedience, soon effortlessly lifting your body and standing from his throne. You gasped at his suddenness, his large hands holding your bare thighs and pressing you closely to his muscular body. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your white chemise fell down your body to cover his large hands that rested upon your legs. 
When you met the great being’s face, the look he held was different and very unexpected. His crimson eyes were brimming with love and affection, but something that you’ve only hoped your true lover would cast upon you. The sight made your heart skip a beat and your stomach flutter. 
The thought of a great being such as him feeling this way towards you, despite all that you’ve been through, made you feel profoundly grateful and touched. Everything about him felt heavenly, like this moment was the world apologizing for what it had put you through, and you couldn’t have been more thankful…
He walked to the side of his throne, lowering you to the floor without breaking eye contact with you. Your white chemise covered your figure once more, whilst Miguel’s hands were placed upon your waist to turn you around. You followed along with his wishes, giving him full control. He gently laid you across the armrest of his stone throne and pulled your chemise up to rest on your hips once more, revealing your bare bottom.
You bit your lip in anticipation, feeling a wetness sliding down your thighs at the longing for the addicting pleasure he could bestow upon you. A contented groan left the lips of your protector at the sight of your rear, his massive, ringed hands moving to roam the soft skin of your bottom. You moaned softly, the need to release was still evident in your belly, but only intensified with every divine touch of his hands upon your body.
You suddenly became aware of how massive and close the deity of protection was. His body heat was like a furnace on a cold winter night, his mere presence being able to warm you in an instant. His toned pecs and abs were palpable against your back through your chemise as he leaned over your body. The great protector’s hard cock poked against the back of your thigh causing your wet core to drip along your legs. Miguel’s lips grazed along your ear, the feeling sending a wave of heat to sprout through your body. 
“Are you ready for me, Querida?” 
He asked, seeking clarification in case of you regretting your decision; but you could sense he hoped you didn’t.
The many fearful and anxious thoughts overwhelmed your senses once more, but his sweet kisses along your ear and cheek were causing them to fade. “Y-Yes.” You replied hesitantly, still nervous about performing such intimacy that always terrified you after Alden. 
Miguel was relieved but still sensed your hesitance. His large hand caressed your stomach through your white chemise and continued his soothing kisses in hopes of calming you. “Trust me.” He whispered into your ear. “I promise, it would not feel how it was with Alden. It’ll be better.
I’ll make sure of it…” 
You always found the traits of the great beings fascinating, one of them being their inability to deceive. The deities could only speak the truth which only made you believe his words even more. 
“O-Okay.” You replied, taking the hem of your chemise in your hands to cope with your anxiousness but to also grant him better access. The sight only made Miguel smile, thankful that his words were able to settle your troubled thoughts. He pressed a final kiss to your cheek before pulling away. 
Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest as you felt him slide his tip along your soppy folds, the squelching filling the room. “Take a deep breath for me,” Miguel told you, stroking your hips. 
You took a deep breath, inhaling deeply, and upon exhaling, he pushed his length inside. A loud moan erupted from your throat, fingers gripping the chair at the intensity of your stretched core. 
“G-Goodness, you are…so tight.” Miguel groaned into your ear, his grip tightening on your waist. His enormity filled you up completely, and to your surprise, you didn’t feel pain as you thought, only pleasure that only heightened when he bottomed out. He groaned, kissing along your neck. “How do you feel?” He asked, his voice full of lust and desire, his hips stilled to allow you to adjust to his massive length. 
You could only frantically nod, your stuffed core quivering in delight at how wonderful the sensations felt. Miguel smirked, pulling out to the tip before slamming back in, causing you to release a choked moan. It was as if an avalanche of pleasure crashed into you and overwhelmed your every sense with the suffocating emotion. At your wonderous response, the great deity began to slowly thrust into you, dragging his massive length into you and sliding out. 
In all of your life, you’ve never felt something so good and addicting. Your unkempt hair spilled over his throne whilst the most unladylike sounds were pulled from your lips with every smack of his hips against your rear. “Such pretty sounds you are making for me, Cariño.” Miguel cooed behind you, wrapping an arm around your stomach to hold you close. 
The great protector kissed along your neck, nipping softly and grazing his fangs along the skin. It wasn’t long before the tension in your stomach returned. You whimpered and moaned, the improper sounds of skin and squelching bouncing off the walls of his sanctuary as the divine being took you to your blissful end. 
“M-Miguel, I- something’s coming.” You whined through body tremors and the clenching of your walls. “You may let go, querida. Give it to me.” Miguel moaned breathlessly into your ear, aiming his rhythmic thrusts to attack your sensitive spot over and over. 
Unable to hold it any longer, with a loud cry, you released the pent-up pleasure that was building in your stomach. Your eyes rolled, body shaking horribly in Miguel’s arms. Suddenly a rush of euphoria overcame you, making you weightless, like a feather being drifted off into the wind.
Miguel’s hips never ceased their movement, rutting into you as his grunts louden against your ear. "Are you ready to be mine, querida? To bear our child?" He asked, his pace quickening. 
The blood rushing to your ears and the pounding of your own heart made his words faint, but nevertheless, you heard him. Frantically you nodded. "Y-Yes. I'm...ready." You told him through breathless gasps and the slapping of his hips against your rear. 
At your final approval, a guttural groan escaped his lips as he burrowed his length deep inside you and released his warm, hot essence into your womb. You could feel his thighs tensing up against your legs and his toned chest heaving on your back whilst he filled you; granting you a child and fulfilling the terms...
The sanctuary was now laden with both of your heavy pants and the small flickering of fire upon the torches and candles. A comfortable silence fell upon the two of you as Miguel slowly pulled out, leaving you empty and longing for him once more. 
The great being kept you in his arms, seeming to not be able to let you go…
Not like you wanted him to anyway. 
It felt like forever since you were loved, and in Miguel’s arms was where you were cherished. 
But like all good things, they must come to an end…
“Your request will be completed, Y/N,” Miguel promised against your backside, caressing your stomach through your white chemise. In your moment of pure bliss, you’ve forgotten the reasoning behind the shared passion between the great being and yourself. 
His words brought you back to the harsh reality that you’ll have to eventually leave him…
He pulled away, fixing the scarlet robe upon his mighty, chiseled body whilst you also got dressed, drawing down your chemise and adorning your neutral-colored bodice once more. When you were finished, you turned to look at Miguel to see he was already staring back at you, his crimson eyes holding adoration in them.
He walked up to you, his divine body towering over your form. “Y/N…” He said your name upon his mighty tongue, making your heart flutter. You looked up at him, trying to calm the desire to avert your eyes due to how intense his gaze was. “Y-Yes?” The inquiry leaves your lips in a timid voice. Miguel gave you a small smile, cupping your face in his large hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I need you to promise me something.” The great being uttered, his words greatly intriguing you. “W-what is it?” You asked, willing to do anything for him. 
The divine being’s eyes roamed over your face, taking in your every facial feature. “In all of my years that I’ve traversed this world, I’ve never experienced something like this.” He confessed, tracing his fingers along your jaw. “You’ve done something that no human has ever done, Cariño.” He whispered, leaning closer to you, so close that his breath fanned against your lips. 
“You’ve fulfilled the wish of a deity and have set my heart ablaze.” 
You sharply inhaled, staring at the great being with widened eyes. You wanted to believe that his words were false, that the great protector of Nueva Yorkhaven had mistaken his feelings of love for you as something else; but the truth of the most alluring trait about the deities continuously filled your head. 
He couldn’t lie. 
He was created unable to…
His words of adoration and affection were all real. The great being loved you out of all mortals and that thought only made you even more confounded. 
You wet your lips, meeting the red-eyed protector, and taking in everything about him: his morals, values, greatness, natural will to protect his people, and even his physical appearance with his perfectly sculpted body, chiseled face, dark wavy hair, and beautiful, scarlet eyes. 
In all your life, you’ve never fallen deeply in love, you were never given the chance to—being forced into marriage with Alden severed your ability to find love for yourself, however, after all this time, you believed you’ve succeeded. 
You’ve fallen in love with your divine protector...
“I…love you too.” You said, the words leaving your mouth before you could even think about it. Miguel’s thick eyebrows rose briefly in shock to soon settle once more. He hastily pulled you into a kiss, his plush lips interlocking with your own in a passionate entanglement that seemed to go on forever. 
When he finally pulled away, he kept you snug against him, his arms protectively wrapped around your body. “I want you to promise me you’ll never love another—that your heart will always burn for me as mine does for you,” he uttered, his deep voice filling the small space between you and adding to the tender moment even more. 
Unbeknownst to him, his promise was an easy one...
In the pit of your stomach, you knew from this moment onward, things would never be the same, and you were content with that. 
When you first pressed your lips against the great protector’s, it was as if you were being reborn, your wretched life leaving you as a new one welcomed you. 
Once you leave this sanctuary, Alden Hawthorne would be like a terrible nightmare that never occurred. Your mother and yourself could mend the relationship between the two of you, and you would always have a piece of Miguel with you even if he wasn’t there physically, holding you in his mighty arms. 
And you were satisfied with that…
Like the sun emerging to dispel away the shadows from a long, dark night and bring light across the lands, goodness was being revived into your life all because of the might of Nueva Yorkhaven’s great protector—Miguel O'Hara. 
Looking up at Miguel with glossy eyes, you smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a loving embrace. 
“I promise. 
I’ll love you till my last breath.” 
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A/N: Thanks so much for reading my oneshot! Shoutout to the wonderful anon who gave me the request, there is still more to come for you, but I hope you enjoyed it!
Make sure to like, comment, reblog and follow! If you would like to add a request to the kink series or have an idea in general, just message me or submit an ask! ❤️
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<3 Taglist:
@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedevax @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywattyy @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages @prazinos @huniedeux @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @anniee-mr @crimin4llyins4ne
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394 notes · View notes
Note
Hc for Halsin, Astarion, Will, Gortash, (& maybe Damon and Raphael) caring for a loved one with chronic illness or like an illness that keeps them bedbound for an extended time
A/N: Oh Nonnie, do I feel this ask lol. Chronic fatigue sucks, mainly because so few people don’t understand it goes beyond being just ‘tired’. There’s brain fog, stomach issues, and body pains– so I tried to touch on each of these symptom types for each character response. However you’re doing, whether you’re in a flare or not, I want you to know your illness is not your fault. You didn't ask for this. Don’t feel guilty for having to take care of yourself. You’re worth it. I promise. 
Also, this is unrelated but it’s lowkey funny that the week after I got diagnosed with a weird anemia, I write an answer for an ask about chronic fatigue. lol
TW: Mention of Chronic Fatigue/Pain, Brief Mentions of Sex 
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🤕 BG3 Men Caring for a Gender Neutral! Loved One With Chronic Illness 🤕
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Astarion: 
Worries. Like A LOT.
Tells you not to be so dramatic about it but will literally sprint towards you if he even hears you sigh.
He asks Karlach to carry you. 
Steals somebody’s cart/chariot if she refuses and instead makes her and Shadowheart take turns pulling that. (Jokes on him, they do it because they’re your friend, not his lol.) 
Has you come on missions because he feels more secure knowing you’re right behind him, and he can keep looking after you. Astarion makes sure to always sneak ahead so you never walk unknowingly into any danger 
Will give you massages if you’re in pain frequently, especially shoulder rubs, as he loves the view it gives him of your pretty neck. 
Speaking of necks, feeding is a huge no-no. At least, until you start feeling a bit better. And then he’ll only allow himself a taste. Gods knows you need all your strength, and he would feel terribly guilty to take what little you have from you. 
Lowkey appreciates the bags under your eyes and the way you can look like death incarnate, because well, then he doesn’t stand out as much. He also finds it strangely alluring, how you can look so fragile yet be so strong. It inspires him to find that balance within himself if he’s being honest. 
If you have trouble ‘performing’ due to your illness, he’s not upset at all! (He’s actually quite relieved.) 
Loves finding other ways you can be intimate together, like going to a spa and sharing a bath. Or finding a highly-rated inn and cuddling under some luxurious silk sheets. 
Turns out that after a lifetime of being forced to do things, Astarions is more than happy to spend his time doing nothing with you. 
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Wyll: 
Is so sweet and tender when he speaks to you.
He’s literally Prince Charming, which makes you his Sleeping Beauty. 
On your good days, he’ll have you stand on his feet as he twirls you around, finding this the best way to ‘dance’ with you, given your current stamina. 
Requests for you to stay back at camp and rest while he and a few of the others handle the more taxing and dangerous missions. Gifts you some books and journals of his to keep you occupied in the meantime.
When he comes back to camp, the first thing he does is check on you. If you’re awake, he’ll make sure your needs are met before tending to his own. Doesn’t matter if Wyll’s starving and covered in guts, if you need a drink or an extra blanket, just say the word and he will fetch it immediately.  
Will recite poetry to you on the bad pain nights when you cannot sleep because everything aches too much. He knows his voice won’t stop the pain, but he hopes it provides a soothing atmosphere to just rest in, even if sleep cannot find you.
Is always so tender and gentle in his lovemaking, that it’s rarely an issue for you. However, on the nights that it is, don’t feel bad at all. Wyll adores you for much more than your body. He loves your mind, your heart, and your soul. Just being near you, knowing you love him back is more than enough. 
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Halsin: 
Is always prepared with some medicinal herbs or a healing spell. 
He’s a natural caretaker, and you are no exception. However, when it comes to you, Halsin does approach the act a little bit differently. 
It’s much more personal when he makes you health potions or casts spells to heal you, you can see it in his eyes. In a way, it’s as if your pain has become his pain, and he needs the relief just as much as you. 
As long as you give your consent, Halsin prefers to have you touching him. Be it laying on top of his chest, or seated on his lap, he always wants his skin against yours, as if his touch alone could shield you from your illness. You find it rather sweet of him.
He pleads for you to stay behind in camp, or the grove- somewhere that is not the center of the action. He wishes for you to remain out of the fray, fearful that in your condition, fighters with less honor than he would take advantage of your vulnerability. 
If you need to be in a house with a room, and not camped out in the woods, he understands, although it may frustrate him a bit. He believes nature is the perfect healing environment, but he also trusts that you know your illness better than anyone. After all, you’ve managed it all these years. So instead, he simply brings nature to you. 
Haslin decorates your bedroom with plants, trees, and succulents. If you’re allergic, he enchants them to reduce their pollen production. 
Halsin understands he is rather large in the ‘down there’ department. If you cannot have traditional sex with him, it’s not a surprise to him. He knows more than one way to please his partner. He’s very giving and seems to get off on your pleasure more than his own at times. 
Halsin thinks you are one of the most beautiful gifts of nature. Your illness is just another part of you, and because it’s a part of you, he thinks it’s beautiful as well. You may resent it, but Halsin could never separate that part from you and hate it. He simply loves the whole of you too much to do that. 
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Dammon:
Oh my god, he’s such a sweetheart.
But also a low-key tease. 
He has no issues getting or reaching things for you, but he does have a mischievous side, so be prepared for him to hold your things hostage, in exchange for a kiss or two. 
Has a habit of finding you curled up in bed on your worst pain/fatigue days and peppering you with kisses, and won’t stop until you laugh. 
Forges special mobility aids! Do you need help walking? Pfft. Not a problem. Dammon’s an incredible blacksmith, and he can make you armor that helps stabilize you. You know those really cool joint support braces you can get on Etsy and stuff? Yeah, he makes you DOZENS of them, all in different metals and designs, to match your mood/outfit for the day. 
While on the road, or in the grove, he always ensures you’re armed with some sort of easily gripped knife or sword, just in case anyone attacks. He does his best to keep you close, never walking too far ahead or behind, but you having that extra layer of protection makes him feel all the more reassured. 
He's not a fighter, but years of working in the forge have made his arms and back strong. He swears he will do everything he can to protect you, that no harm will come to you so long as you stay close. 
Is so relieved when you make it to the city at last. He’s so grateful that he can finally provide a real room and bed for you. He feels as if the entire journey has been worth it now that you’ll be able to rest and heal as you need, in the kind of safe and stable conditions you deserve.  
Comes in from a long, sweaty day of working in the forge, but immediately sets his sights on taking care of you. Draws a bath but insists you bathe first, as the water won’t be full of grime and ash after he bathes. 
Is always surprised and very flattered when you tug him in with you, still touched by your affection for him, as if you’ve just met for the first time. Dammon’s still a little shocked that out of everyone, you chose him. (Ironically, you feel the same. You’re a perfect match!) 
Insists on taking the lead during more intimate moments, and to make sure you just lay back and let him do all the work, introduces soft silk ties for your hands and ankles for whenever you feel like indulging in that kink with him. 
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Gortash: 
Spoils you rotten. 
No, really.
Part of the highlight of being a Lord, soon-to-be Duke, is that he has the power to make all the other people do things for him. And no task is too costly or requires too much manpower so long as it means you’re taken care of. 
Buys the most lavish sheets and sleep sets for you. He wants you to be comfortable, the both of you deserve nothing but the best, after all. 
Assigns around-the-clock healers to you 24/7. They are always in your home, on-call, awaiting your request for relief. He wants every measure of treatment and remedy explored. If there’s a spell or herb that can reduce your pain, then you shall have it. 
Enjoys any downtime he has with you. Has his staff put a special chaise lounge in his office so you can visit him when he’s working. 
Gortash is so used to putting up fronts for everyone else, that it’s nice to let his guard down around you. You don’t judge him, or think less of him for his ambitions. Other people would run if they learned the truth, but not you. No, you’re so much more special than that. 
Of course, whenever you go out, you have your own guards and steel watch keeping you safe from anyone who’d wish to harm either you or him. All the other Lords and Ladies of Baldur’s Gate don’t dare say a mean word about you or your abilities, lest they wish to face the wrath of a peeved Gortash. 
As an inventor, Gortash invents the very first automatic, steampunk-esque wheelchair for you. It’s powered in the same way his Steel Watch is, and it is uniquely one-of-a-kind, tailor-made just for you. 
You know how in the game it’s hinted that Gortash basically stole and fucked his way into the high society of Baldur’s Gate? That many of the widowed Ladies gifted him lavish presents (like the deeds to their house?!) in response to whatever ‘relationship’ he had with them? Yeah. The man knows what he’s doing. And he does it well.
Your fitness level is no concern to him. The both of you will enjoy yourselves. He learns how to play the erogenous zones of your body perfectly, and in the event you’re too exhausted to play his, he has some, shall we say, special toys, he’s created just for himself. Course, should you ever ask, he’s more than willing to share them with you. ;)
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Raphael: 
Switches between pampering you to badgering you about it.
When he’s feeling particularly generous, he makes a point to overindulge you, making sure you’re aware of how unselfish he’s being at the time. 
He’ll make sure you have not only whatever you need, but also, anything you should want. As a devil, he does have some magic up his sleeve, ready to take care of various aches and pains that you feel. 
Ensures no other beings in the House of Hope lay a finger on you. No, that’s a privilege for him and him alone. 
Of course, such benevolence from him comes at a price, so don’t expect the luxury to come freely, without strings attached. 
After he feels you’ve rested enough, he switches from being overly doting to being more curt, and even a bit cruel. 
You honestly don’t expect him to let you lounge all day, do you? Surely there’s a way you could make yourself useful to him. Your attention, your company, your body… there must be something of interest to him at the moment. Of course, Raphael won’t tell you outright what he wants, you have to figure it out for yourself each and every time. 
More than anything Raphael loves your adoration, your attention. Just sit with him in his office as he reads over the various contracts he has binding any number of sorry souls. Ask him questions, praise him. Tell him you think he’s brilliant… Darling just worship him. 
And after his ego’s been satisfied, he’ll go back to worshiping you. Relationships are all give and take after all. 
(And don’t worry if you’re too tired or in too much pain to perform well in bed. He’s certainly no good at it either lol.)
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pfhwrittes · 3 months
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housemate!kyle x gender neutral reader let's goooooo.
rating: PG-13 (for now) pairing: eventual kyle "gaz" garrick x gender neutral reader word count: 1.5k TW: bit of swearing, fluff, mentions of original characters AN: i fully plan on writing more of this, but i wanted to get the first part out before i start the next part. as always, barely edited so funky grammar and typos are still likely. this is completely self indulgent. please send love to @391780 for cheerleading me with this one!
your housemate sucks since meeting her new boyfriend. 
your normally sociable, polite and reasonable housemate has turned into some kind of lust-crazed succubus since meeting dale, spending hours upon hours of her time shut in her bedroom with him. and if she doesn’t shut the fuck up in the next five minutes you’re going to kick her door in. or castrate him. or possibly burst into sleep deprived tears.
“oh! oh god! fuck! dale, baby, oh my god!”
jesus fucking christ. it’s 4.30am and ruby is wailing like a cat in heat at the top of her fucking voice. she’s so loud you could swear she and her soon to be castrated boyfriend were fucking in your bedroom instead of the room next to yours. briefly you debate yelling at the top of your lungs but you don’t want to disturb the neighbours any further, so with a muttered curse you snatch your pillow and duvet off your bed and stomp downstairs to the living room so you can sleep on the sofa. 
you get settled onto the sofa and glare at the ceiling in the living room, the sound of rhythmic thumping and moaning still audible even with the increased distance between you and the nymphomaniac formerly known as ruby. you mutter and grumble to yourself as you shut your eyes trying to get at least a little bit of sleep before needing to get up for your job interview in the morning. 
at midday you kick the front door shut behind you and shrug your coat off your shoulders as you step further into the hallway. 
“hey i’m home!” you call up the stairs, “my job interview was an utter shit show so i’m thinking we get a chinese and a bottle of wine to commiserate, yeah?” you pause waiting to hear ruby’s usual reply reminding you not to order from the golden palace but silence greets you instead. 
“huh. weird.” you mutter to yourself as you pass through the living room, dropping your bag and coat on the sofa as you beeline towards the kitchen. ruby’s probably making something for lunch while listening to one of her creepy true crime podcasts. 
“hey ruby - oh.” you cut yourself off as you walk into the kitchen, no sign of ruby except for the used butter knife leaving a greasy smear on the counter and a pink post-it note stuck on the front of the fridge. you step forward to pluck the note off the fridge and squint at ruby’s loopy handwriting.
gone 2 stay w/ dale 4 a few days! look after widget for me - r xxxx
you huff a breath out of your nose and crumple the note into a ball so you can pop it in the kitchen bin with the crumbs you sweep off the side into your palm. ugh. it’s such a little thing but you feel frustrated tears well up in your eyes in response to having to clean up after ruby once again on minimal sleep. 
a tiny high pitched mrr! interrupts your internal grumbling and you turn around to face the little tabby that is waiting patiently by an empty food bowl. 
“hiya widge, have you been a good girl while i’ve been out?” you ask softly as you crouch so widget can bonk her head onto your outstretched hand. typically widget doesn’t answer but she chirps again before padding back to her bowl, politely requesting that you get with the programme and make with the biscuits before cleaning up the rest of the kitchen. 
you sigh and push yourself up from the floor, just another half finished job left for you. great. 
a week later, with no sign of ruby and your texts unanswered, your laptop chimes on the coffee table with a new email. you hope briefly that it’s one of the companies you’ve applied to responding to your application with an offer for a job interview, but your heart sinks as you realise it's an email from your landlord, john. 
you skim over the email and you feel your eyes sting as select phrases leap out at you. “i’m sorry to inform you that ruby has decided to end the tenancy agreement at 141 hereford way early” ... “you can choose to remain in the property as a sole tenant after an additional credit check to ensure your affordability” … “alternatively, please let me know when ruby has collected her belongings so i can advertise the room to other prospective tenants”. 
fuck. that utter bitch. she’s left you unemployed and now potentially living with a total stranger. fuck. 
your hands shake slightly as you reach for your laptop so you can start composing your reply to john. 
“hi john, thanks for letting me know. i haven’t heard from ruby in a week now, so i’m unsure when she’ll be able to collect her belongings but i think it’s probably for the best if you look at advertising her room as available to rent. i’ll start bagging up her belongings today. kind regards….” 
it’s official. your soon to be ex-housemate really fucking sucks. 
several days pass with a flurry of emails to john and even more unanswered texts to ruby, when a solid jaunty knock startles you out of the doze you’d dropped into on the sofa. you hiss as widget launches herself off your stomach using her claws for purchase so she can bolt up the stairs away from the noise. you swear under your breath as you kick one of the six black bin bags that line the hallway filled with ruby’s crap as you edge your way to the front door. the silhouette you can see through the frosted glass in the door knocks again just as you reach for the handle and pull the door open. 
“yeah yeah i’m here -” you cut yourself off with an embarrassed sound as you get a good look at the man standing at the threshold.  oh no, he’s fit as fuck is your first thought and you’re not wrong. 
the first thing you notice, as you flick your eyes over him quickly, is that he’s in incredible shape. the stranger has broad shoulders and a muscular chest that tapers off into a narrow waist. the second thing you notice when you raise your gaze back up to his face is that he has a jaw dropping smile when he flashes you a friendly grin. 
“hey, i’m kyle. your new housemate.” he says confidently, “john should’ve mentioned me.” 
you shake yourself out of the slight daze you’ve found yourself in - seriously no man should have skin that perfect - and you offer your own tentative smile back. 
“uh, yeah. sure. sorry i was -” you glance back into the hallway and cringe at the sight of the black bin bags “- um. in the middle of something.” you finish weakly, hoping you don’t look too obviously like you’ve been napping in the middle of the day. 
your housemate - kyle - rumbles out a slightly bashful chuckle. 
“no, no it’s fine. i would’ve been here earlier but i had to give a witness statement for the accident on the high street.” kyle reaches up and tugs at the brim of the scuffed blue baseball cap on his head awkwardly. 
“oh shit, really? what happened?” you query him eagerly, your love of gossip overriding your mild embarrassment in a flash. kyle’s eyes crinkle happily at your tone and he leans in conspiratorially, letting his hand drop away from his face. 
“some guy walked into an open manhole cover.” he says with a completely straight face. 
you burst out a startled laugh. “no fucking way!” 
kyle nods, his lips twitching in a poorly concealed grin. “yeah, stuck like winnie the pooh, i swear to god.” 
you have to hold onto the edge of the open door to stop yourself from collapsing into fits of laughter. “how -” another gleeful cackle escapes you before you can compose yourself, “how the fuck did he manage to do that?”
kyle shrugs. “he just walked straight through the barrier, surprised the lanky fucker missed it really.” 
you collapse into laughter again, feeling your cheeks ache from the width of your grin. holy shit, that’s the best thing you’ve heard all day. eventually your slightly hysterical laughter peeters out and you wipe at your eyes as you look at kyle who is grinning back at you. 
“so, fancy letting me in then?” he nudges at the frankly massive khaki rucksack at his feet after a moment of silence as if to remind you that he isn’t just here to charm you with silly stories and his offensively handsome good looks. your embarrassment flares once again as you realise you’ve just been looking at him instead of asking him to come inside like a normal person. 
“sorry, yeah of course.” you step back from the door and turn around so he can’t see the way your cheeks are now flushed from embarrassment instead of laughter. “sorry about the mess.” you say apologetically over your shoulder as kyle follows you into the hallway.
“oh i dunno, it doesn’t look too bad to me.”
you hear kyle kick the door shut behind him and you laugh again to cover up the way your stomach flutters at his tone. if you didn’t know better you’d say he was flirting with you, but you discount that as wishful thinking on your part as you lead him towards the stairs. 
it is wishful thinking, right?
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glitterbiss · 2 months
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“Unwillingly Attached”- Anthony Bridgerton x SBF!Danbury Reader pt.1
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a/n this is my first ever…”one shot?” Whatever it is. I’m kind of nervous to put this out there, but I realized that every time I get immersed in a character again, I need to release this creativity; my mind is full of scenarios and I never put them into play. So this is a start, and I hope I will continue to put more out. Hope you all enjoy and please leave feedback, I wanna improve my writing. 💙
Summary: It is the night of Lady Danbury’s niece’s 20th birthday. Overstimulated by all the dancing and clutter of people, she takes a breath of fresh air, only for it to be irritatingly suffocating by her constant aggravation
Word count: 2,521
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, innuendo, black!reader, dirty talk, body worship, age gap
Also, I recommend playing Toxic by Midnite String Quartet and How Deep Is Your Love by Kiris Houston as you read cause it really adds to the tone, in my opinion.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Bridgerton characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
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“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Lord Bridgerton uttered, his voice carrying the weight of authority. “I understand you wish to have time to yourself, but you must remember, this ball is held in your honor. I ask that you head inside.” His words hung in the air, a command disguised as a polite request. He spoke to her as if he had the right to dictate her actions, a presumption that had become too familiar.
Anthony and Y/N have known each other for years. Seeing that she had been close friends with his sisters, the girls were inseparable. So, when they got in trouble with the eldest Bridgerton, she did as well. Now Y/N did not mind having her ears talked off by the man, but when he tells her what to do and give her orders…that always ruffle her feathers. She still respected him as the head of the house, taking his title into consideration; a few eye rolls at his orders never hurt. Anthony had always known of her doing so, or even sometimes catching her looking at him with a disgusted expression; he ignored them, finding it humorous. The man saw it adorable that she felt irritation from his orders. However, now, a woman grown, she won’t hold her tongue.
The woman let out a deep, frustrated sigh, shutting her eyes as irritation bubbled within her. She turned to face the man sternly, her patience with him wearing thin. Her full brown curls swirled in the gentle breeze, dragging across her back and catching the eye of the viscount. His gaze, as always, drawn to her captivating presence.
The sight of her, his eyes tracing the curls, captivated Lord Bridgerton as they delicately caressed her skin. There was a longing in his gaze, a wish that he could be the one to stay there, to trace the path of her hair as it brushed against her skin. He had often wondered how it’d feel if it were his skin that her hair graced across. He yearned to know the sensation of her curls against him, a desire he kept hidden beneath the veneer of his composed exterior.
“Why do you persist in dictating my every move, as if you possess any authority over my actions, Lord Bridgerton?” She spoke with a conviction that underscored her diminishing regard for the man’s title. The respect she had once held for him had eroded under the constant and unsolicited commands. He had granted her no peace or autonomy, so she no longer cared to show him any deference.
“Well, I-.” He attempted to interject, but she swiftly cut him off with a simple action. Her finger rose, effectively shushing him before he could utter another word. He responded with a sly chuckle, a testament to his amusement at her forceful assertion.
“You are not in a position to control me, Lord Bridgerton. You are not my father. You are not my husband. You will cease this presumptuous behavior.” She warned with a tone that brooked no argument. Her words hung in the air, a clear and unequivocal declaration of her independence.
With that, she turned her back to him, a symbolic farewell to his overbearing presence. She moved gracefully down the steps, her every step a proclamation of her newfound freedom. Her destination was the garden, a sanctuary where she could find solitude and peace, away from the stifling authority of Lord Bridgerton.
Finding himself intrigued by her newfound authority, the man trailed a few steps behind the young woman, his eyes drawn to the sway of her dress as it brushed against her ankles. His mind wandered, painting vivid images of his hand slipping beneath the cool blue silk of her dress, tracing a path upward along her leg. A groan escaped his lips at the thought, the sound more akin to a moan than an expression of frustration.
Lord Bridgerton found himself at a loss, unable to pinpoint exactly when his interest in the girl had intensified. Was it the fact that he had witnessed her transformation from a naive girl into a mature, full-bodied woman? Or was it the subtle defiance she displayed each time she rolled her eyes at his words, a clear indication of her growing impatience with him? There was something incredibly exciting about riling her up, and he found himself fantasizing about doing so at all times, even when he was preoccupied with his responsibilities as a viscount.
“Y/M/N,” the Viscount’s voice stern with authority, invoking her middle name as he always did. It was his unique way of commanding her attention, a tactic that he had adopted over the years. He used it as if it held some magical sway over her, as though uttering it would compel her to pay heed to his words. Or perhaps, he simply enjoyed the privilege of being the only person who could address her in this manner.
A few feet behind her, he stood his ground, his eyes locked onto her retreating figure. He expected her to halt at the sound of his voice, but she didn’t. A sigh of resignation escaped his lips as he watched her continue. He knew her all too well. With hurried steps, he caught up with her, his hand reaching out, gently grabbing her elbow. His fingers pressed into her skin, pulling her closer.
Suddenly, they were chest to chest, their faces inches apart. His warm breath mingled visibly with hers in the cold air. Confusion and determination mirrored in their eyes as they held each other’s gaze. His eyes slowly drifted down to her lips, curiosity tugging at his heartstrings. He wondered how they would feel against his own. His mind was a whirlpool of questions. ‘If I kiss her, would she kiss back?’ His gaze snapped back to her eyes, searching for answers.
“I do have the right,” he spoke slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am a gentleman. I worry for your safety just as I worry for my sisters. You are my responsibility, just as they are.” His eyes found hers once again, his breath hitching as he let his hand run down her arm. The urge to lean in and press his lips upon hers was overpowering, but he resisted. Her eyes scanned his face, taking in his longing expression. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a sense of confusion swept over her. Why was she not pulling away? Why did this situation affect her so much? And why did she feel a sudden urge to kiss him?
“Anthony,” his name escaped her lips in a whisper before she could stop herself. His firm response, “Go. In. Side.” The man’s tongue laced with desperation, a warning to both her and himself. He desired to provoke her once more, yearning for her reaction. Yet, as much as he was fully aware of the dangerous path they were treading, he was also on the brink of losing his restraint.
And so, they stood there, in the tranquil garden, lost in each other’s presence, the world around them fading into insignificance. Desperation apparent in both of their gazes. “You do not listen.” She responded, feverishly desiring for his reaction as she stood her ground.
Despite the fact that Y/N found the lord intolerable, a revolting presence in her life, she couldn’t help but be aware of his physical presence; his determined gaze, the teasing smirk that would often grace his lips, the warmth and strength that radiated from his hands each time they dared to touch her body. Even though to an outsider, their interactions might have seemed normal, both of them found their thoughts consumed by these moments as they lay awake before sleep.
“Why do I seem to provoke such anger within you?” He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper, as his fingers traced a path from her arm down to her waist, finding a comfortable resting place on her hips. Inside his mind, a battle waged. He desperately fought against his impulses, but his resolve was weakening. The proximity of her body, the sweet aroma of coca butter that clung to her skin, a scent that was rich, tantalizing, and utterly irresistible, was causing a hunger to stir within him. A hunger laced with lust. To make matters worse, the soft glow of the moonlight seemed to highlight every curve of her body, making her skin shimmer enticingly. ‘Am I being a fool?’ He silently questioned his own sanity.
His gentle caresses elicited a soft moan from her lips, a sound she detested because it was a clear indication that her body was willingly succumbing to his touch. The temptation was winning. It was even more frustrating for her to know that he felt the same. That he was just as affected by her as she was by him. She wasn’t the only one grappling with dangerous thoughts. Yet she chose to continue this game of tension. “You vex me, Anthony.” She admitted, her voice barely audible as her lips brushed against his. “To the point where my mood shifts dramatically the moment you step into the room. It’s infuriating.” Her words ended with a soft sigh. Her hand found its way to his chest. She tried to push him away, to create some distance between them, but felt an inexplicable urge to keep touching him.
His response to her words was a low groan, a sound that clearly indicated his satisfaction at knowing he could affect her so deeply. “You have become such a source of torment for me, Y/M/N. Why do you fill my mind with such vulgar thoughts?” His words were out before he could stop them, not that he cared much in the moment, carried away as he was by the intense emotions.
Her breath became slow and heavy, her eyes closing as she allowed her mind to conjure up various inappropriate scenarios, her head tilting back subconsciously to feel his breath against her neck. He drew in a sharp breath as he watched the moonlight play on her exposed neck. Her gold and diamond jewelry sparkled in the soft light, seeming to dare him to stake his claim. He leaned in, inhaling her scent deeply before pressing his lips gently against her throat, moving to the side of her neck, nipping at the skin.
Y/N’s hand held onto Anthony’s coat, her nails digging into the material as his warm tongue tasted her skin. Her thoughts were a whirlwind. ‘What if someone catches us?’ The risk only added to her excitement. His hand slowly moved up her sides to her chest, his thumb beneath her breast, holding her there as he nipped at her neck. “I think of you before I fall asleep,” he murmured into her ear. “I wonder if you’re a whiner, if you beg. Do you enjoy being told sinful things while being pleasured?” She stood there, intoxicated by his words, as she held onto his shoulder with one hand while the other played with his hair. “It keeps me up all night,” he admitted.
“Lord Bridgerton, we must stop this,” she warned, her voice shaky and not very convincing as she responded to his kisses, which had now moved from her neck down to her breast, just above her bodice. He seemed to ignore her words. No one would see them, bodies hidden behind the large fountain; he was far too entranced to give up on what had been a mere fantasy until now. “You are so invigorating,” he replied, scattering kisses up her jaw before claiming her lips with his own.
The instant their lips met in a fervent connection, a realization dawned upon them both; this encounter was going to become a complicated affair. Anthony, caught in the heat of the moment, wasted not a second. He wound his arms around her slender waist, pulling her lithe body into the solid strength of his own. The taste of her plump lips ignited his senses, sending him spiraling into a euphoric haze. She was his intoxicant, his addiction, and he was helplessly ensnared.
Y/N’s hand found a resting place on the warm expanse of his neck, her delicate fingers tracing patterns on his flushed skin as she kissed him with a hunger she didn't understand. She often found herself exasperated with the lord, especially his orders. Yet, as she delved deeper into the intoxicating kiss, she comprehended that perhaps this inexplicable frustration was born out of a hidden desire for him.
Their tongues intertwined in a passionate dance for supremacy, their breaths coming out in ragged gasps as the intensity of their kisses drained them of air. Yet, the lack of oxygen didn't deter them. Their mouths continued to hungrily devour each other, the sound of muffled grunts and moans filling the air, punctuated by the occasional silence. Anthony found himself leaning in for more, more of her sweet taste, more of her intoxicating scent. Meanwhile, Y/N held him in place by gripping his hair, the moon silently bearing witness to their fervor.
His hand slipped from her waist, the rough skin of his fingers gathering up the material of her dress. As he pulled and collected the fabric with his other hand, it bunched up around her thighs. His palm traced a path on her smooth skin, gentle and tender, causing her to shiver under his touch. Lifting her leg from the ground, he hooked it around his hip, calling out her name in a voice that was as breathless as it was low.
Engulfed in a cloud of lust, Y/N barely registered the sound of his voice, the deep, strong, but gentle timbre sending shivers down her spine. A sensation started to bubble up within her, threatening to consume her completely.
Suddenly, the echo of a sharp gasp pierced the silent night. “Oh!” Startled, they both broke away from their passionate tryst to confront the intruder. Standing there, eyes wide with shock, was Daphne. “I’m so sorry,” she stammered, spinning on her heels to make a hasty retreat back towards the ball. Anthony, anxious about his sister's unexpected arrival, hastily set Y/N's leg back on the ground and rushed after Daphne, eager to provide an explanation. His primary concern was to prevent any animosity from developing between Daphne and Y/N.
Left alone, Y/N was haunted by guilt, her mind swimming with the weight of having kissed her friend's brother. She hastily adjusted her dress, her hand instinctively flying to cover her still tingling lips. Panic set in as her eyes scanned the surroundings, the reality of her actions hitting her full force. She couldn't believe she had kissed him, and the question that echoed in her mind was, "What is wrong with me?" She pondered if she would ever be forgiven. Now that she had recognized her feelings for him, would she be able to let them go? She didn't want her friendship with the girls to end because of this.
Y/N decided then and there, from that moment on, she was going to stay as far away from Lord Bridgerton as possible.
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itsmealaiah · 3 months
Text
Angel
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TW: angst, fighting, kicking tom out, p in v sex, unprotected sex, head (f rec), profanity, babytalk, praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, slight degrading, tom talking in german, pussydrunk tom
Request: could you please do a oneshot about 2010 Tom and y/n having a massive fight because he forgot their 3 year anniversary (make the angst long plss <3) and then y/n finally caves in when he brings her flowers and chocolates to make it up to her and they fuckkkk
Rating: 18+, mdni
Word count: 2.4k
Send some tom reqs yall my inbox is open 💞
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are very much appreciated
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It was a night much like any other, the cold air nipping at your exposed skin as you waited for tom to come home from whatever the fuck he was doing this late at night.
You were angry. So, so angry. How could he forget your anniversary? It had been three whole years together, and he couldn't even be bothered to remember. You knew you shouldn't be surprised; after all, he had been distant lately, and he had been away a lot more than usual. But still, it hurt. It hurt so much.
You had tried to call him earlier, but his phone had gone straight to voicemail. You left him a message, your voice laced with anger and hurt. You didn't want to fight, but you couldn't help it. You needed him to understand how much this meant to you.
And then, finally, you heard the click of the front door. You turned around, your eyes narrowed, your hands balled into fists. Tom walked in, looking sheepish, his shoulders slumped. He glanced at you, and for a moment, you could see the regret in his eyes.
"Tom," you said, your voice low and shaky. "You have some explaining to do."
He winced at your tone, but he didn't say anything. You felt a surge of anger course through you, and before you knew it, you were yelling. You were yelling at the top of your lungs, throwing his promise ring on the ground, the platinum flashing in the dim light. Tears streamed down your face, and you felt like your chest was going to cave in.
"How could you?" you screamed. "How could you forget our anniversary? Do you even care about us anymore?"
Tom's face contorted in pain, and he took a step forward, reaching out to touch you. But you shoved him away, your anger stronger than your fear.
"Get out," you managed to choke out. "Just get out."
He looked like he was about to say something, but then he seemed to change his mind. His shoulders slumped again, and with a defeated sigh, he turned and left the apartment, the sound of his footsteps fading away down the hall.
You were left alone, the silence pressing in on you like a heavy weight. You wiped away your tears, but they seemed to come faster and harder. You curled up into a ball on the couch, your whole body aching from the tension and the hurt.
Eventually, exhaustion overtook you, and you fell asleep, still sobbing. You didn't know how long you were out, but when you awoke, it was to the sound of a gentle knocking at the door. Groaning, you sat up, wiping the tears from your face. Maybe it was Tom, coming to apologize. Maybe he'd brought you something to make it up to you.
Your hopes were quickly dashed when you opened the door to reveal not Tom, but a young florist holding a large bouquet of flowers. "Um, hi," they said, their voice shaky. "I was sent here to deliver these for Mr. Kaulitz" They held up the flowers, a stunning arrangement of red roses and white lilies.
You felt a pang in your chest as you took the flowers from the florist, your hand shaking slightly. "Thank you," you managed to choke out. As the florist turned to leave, you closed the door and leaned against it, tears welling up in your eyes once more.
It was then that you heard another knock, this time from the window. Confused, you crossed the room and peered through the curtains to see Tom standing outside, his face pale and his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He was holding a small box, and you could see the corner of a gold card peeking out from it.
Your heart began to race as you unlocked the window and pushed it open. "Tom?" you asked hesitantly. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with regret and apologies. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I wanted to make it up to you."
Tears pricked at your eyes as you took the small box from him. It was wrapped in black velvet, and when you opened it, you found a pair of exquisite earrings inside. "They're just like the ones you admired at the jewelry store last week," he explained, his voice barely audible. "I wanted you to have them."
You felt your defenses start to crumble as you looked at him, really looked at him. His eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and his shoulders were slumped in defeat. "They're beautiful," you whispered, wiping away another tear. "Thank you." You took a deep breath and stepped forward, pulling him into a hug.
As you held him, you could feel the tension easing out of your body, and for the first time in hours, you felt like maybe things could be okay between you again. Tom held you tightly, his face buried in your hair. "I love you," he murmured against your skin. "So, so much."
You breathed in deeply, trying to steady your own voice as you replied, "I love you too, Tom. I want us to work this out. I don't want to lose us." He pulled back slightly, searching your eyes for any sign of hope. "I'm not giving up on us" you assured him, and placed a kiss on his lips.
As the kiss deepened, you could feel the tension slowly melting away, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and connection. Tom held you close, his hands gently exploring your back, and you knew in that moment that you wanted this, you wanted them. You wanted to be with Tom, through everything.
As if sensing your newfound resolve, he pulled back slightly, his eyes burning into yours, and then without warning, he roughly pushed you down onto the couch, following your body down until he was hovering over you. Your breath hitched in your throat as he pinned your wrists above your head, his body pressing into yours, his erection trapped between your legs.
He growled, the sound vibrating against your neck, and then his lips found your earlobe, sucking and nipping at it hungrily. You arched your back, moaning as he continued to thrust his hips, grinding his erection against your clit with each movement. The friction was almost too much to bear, but you knew you couldn't last much longer like this.
You gasped as his hand slipped free from your wrists and roughly grabbed the back of your head, holding you in place as he began to fuck you harder. His hips snapped forward with each thrust, his body weight pinning you to the couch. You could feel the muscles in his back tensing and relaxing with each movement, and you couldn't help but match his rhythm, your body moving in time with his.
His growls and curses in german only seemed to heighten the sensation, pushing you past your limits. It was as if he were a wild animal, untamed and unyielding, taking what he wanted with a primal fury. You arched your back, moaning loudly as he thrust deeper inside you, his hands gripping your hips tightly.
Your head thrashed from side to side, the couch cushions digging into your back as you tried to find some purchase against the force of his movements. The heat between your legs grew more intense with each passing second, your orgasm building and building until it felt like it was going to explode from your body.
And then, with one final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his eyes meeting yours as he watched your face contort in ecstasy. "Ja," he gasped, "ja, baby." You clenched tightly around him, your gummy walls squeezing and massaging his cock as your orgasm crashed over you in a wave of pure pleasure.
Your body arched off the couch, your back bowing, your fingernails digging into the cushions as your inner muscles gripped him, milking him. He growled, the sound vibrating deep in his throat as he began to move faster, thrusting harder, his hips slamming against your ass with an urgency that left you gasping for breath.
Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your pussy clenching and releasing around him in rhythmic spasms, each one more intense than the last. He groaned, his face contorted in pleasure as he felt your walls squeezing him, milking him, your muscles gripping him so tightly it was almost painful.
Finally, with a last, powerful thrust, he came, his hips snapping forward as he released himself deep inside you. His grip on your hips tightened, his teeth biting down gently on your shoulder, holding you in place as he emptied himself into you. Your walls milked him relentlessly, drawing every last drop of his seed before finally releasing him.
As his orgasm subsided, he collapsed forward, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. His weight pressed you deeper into the couch cushions, his sweat-slickened skin pressed against your own. You reveled in the feel of him inside you, the warmth of his body and the strength of his embrace.
After a few moments, he slowly pulled out, the wetness between your legs left exposed and vulnerable. He rolled onto his back, pulling you into his arms, your head nestled in the crook of his neck. His fingers traced gentle circles on your stomach, the rough pad of his thumb brushing against your clitoris.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice raspy with exhaustion and desire. "I could look at you all day." He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling back to look at you. Your eyes were closed, your face flushed with pleasure and contentment. "I love you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I've always loved you."
You opened your eyes, a slow smile spreading across your face. "I love you too, Tom," you whispered back. "You're my everything." He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, his tongue darting out to tease your bottom lip.
Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his chest, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin beneath them. The afterglow of your orgasm lingered, leaving you both relaxed and content. "I could just lie here with you all day," you sighed, nestling deeper into his embrace.
He chuckled, the vibration of it sending a shiver down your spine. "Well" he pointed out with a grin. "We could stay here and just enjoy each other's company for a while. Or," he continued, moving to kiss you slowly and deliberately, "We could head to our room, and see what other mischief we can get into." His words sent a wave of anticipation through you, and you felt your body respond, growing even wetter between your legs.
You nodded, your heart racing with excitement at the thought of what might happen next. "I like the sound of that," you whispered, tracing a line down his chest with your fingernail. "Lead the way, my love." He smiled, rolling to the side and then scooping you up in his arms. With you held securely against him, he stood, carrying you through the living room and into the hallway.
Your bedroom was just down the hall, and as he neared it, his pace quickened, his heart racing with anticipation. The air was thick with the scent of their lovemaking, the sheets tangled and sweaty from their earlier encounters. He set you down on the bed, the mattress dipping as he knelt between your spread legs. His hands moved to your hips, gripping them possessively as he leaned forward, his lips mere inches from your wetness.
He inhaled deeply, savoring the musky scent of your arousal, and then lowered his head, his tongue darting out to trace circles around your clit. Your hips arched off the bed, your back bowing as a moan escaped your lips. He increased the pace, his tongue flicking faster and harder against your sensitive flesh, his fingers digging deeper into your hips. Your legs trembled, your inner walls clenching tight around his tongue.
"Oh God, Tom," you cried out, your voice cracking with desire. "That feels so good!" He groaned in response, his teeth scraping lightly against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure crashing through you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper. His free hand moved up, cupping your breast, tweaking your nipple roughly before rolling it between his fingers.
The bed creaked beneath you as he shifted, spreading your legs further apart to get better access to your sensitive flesh. His tongue danced in and out of your folds, teasing and pleasuring you, his thumb circling your opening, pressing against your entrance. Your hips bucked up off the bed, seeking more contact, more friction, more of him.
The taste of you on his tongue ignited a fire inside him, and he moved faster, his thrusts becoming more urgent. His free hand found its way to your other breast, squeezing and massaging it roughly as he continued to ravage your clit with his tongue. The room spun around you, your senses on overload as he brought you closer and closer to the brink.
Your orgasm built and built, an unstoppable wave of pleasure coursing through your body. You arched your back, digging your nails into his shoulders, the muscles in your thighs clenching tight around his head. He groaned into your pussy, the vibration sending shockwaves of ecstasy through you. Your pussy clamped down on his tongue, milking him for every last drop of pleasure.
As your orgasm finally crested and broke, you cried out his name, your voice hoarse from the intensity of it. He slowed his ministrations for a moment, savoring the taste of you as your body shook with aftershocks of pleasure. His eyes were dark and intense as he looked up at you, his chest heaving from exertion.
"Ah, mein Schatz," he murmured, using his favorite pet name for you. "You are so beautiful when you come." He leaned in closer, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before spooning you, and holding you tightly against him.
As your breathing slowly returned to normal, your body relaxing into the comfort of his embrace, your eyes began to shut.
The weight of his arm draped across your waist, his strong hand gripping your hip, grounded you even as sleep pulled you under. You felt the mattress dip as he shifted his weight, his breath warm against your neck as he murmured something in his native tongue. It was a lullaby, you realized, a sweet and soothing melody that made your eyelids grow heavy.
"good night my sweet girl" "goodnight tommy" you said, before shutting your eyes.
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Taglist: @madzandmore @20doozers @ichikopotato @il0vet0mk4ulitz @benkeibear
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