#even when the nagging voice in the back of my brain is telling me to give up and stop

[tame-the-lion-writes]

[miguel o'hara] holding the world

This is reposted from my AO3!

After a nightmare all about your deepest insecurities, Miguel is quick to comfort you.

In other words: I was having fun reading a filthy as fudge Miguel O’Hara fic, and all of a sudden, literary SUBDROP hit me in the face like Peter Porker had just pulled an anvil out of nowhere. SO--this short little blurb is for all my fellow Miguel O’Hara simps who need something soft to follow up that kinky shit. Not quite aftercare, but a whole--“you exist as a human being outside of sex” sort of thing. Especially when that sort of “post-nut/fic” clarity hits and you need some love. So yeah!-- love y’all.

tags: hurt/comfort, praise kink (that isn't really a praise kink but just comforting), fluff, angst, can be taken in a post-sex manner

His palm presses down harshly between your shoulder blades, forcing your face into the mattress while his free hand bruises your hip.

“This is all you’re good for–” he whispers– “and to think you’re not even that pretty.”

To say that you were innocent would be a lie, but to say that you could take little blows like that on a high without realizing how much the doubt built up would be doubly so. And while your Miguel never degraded you like that–would never even dare to go near such a thing–the insecurities had built up. The dam overflowed.

It’s what made you wake up in the middle of the night, gasping for air, imaginary hands on your neck lingering in the cool dark shadows.

“Mm… mi cariño? Por favor–what’s wrong?”

Miguel’s voice comes out as a mumble, muddled with sleep. And yet, his arm, formerly rested across your waist with lazy affection, is still strong as it pulls you into his chest. His face now nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“Bad dream,” you answer in return. “It’s nothing… Go back to sleep.”

But he feels the way your body is stiff against his, and the way your chest rises and falls in the wake of frantic pain. He doesn’t believe you.

“I won’t until I know you’re okay. So don’t tell me it’s nothing.”

His voice is clearer now that his concern has further awakened him. But you don’t respond right away – unsure of how to do so. It was a nightmare, you tell yourself. A fear from past trauma and situationships and exes that shouldn’t – and wouldn’t – apply now. You tell yourself he loves you. Miguel loves you. You know you do. 

And yet, your brain doesn’t trust him. Refuses to. He’s too good to be true.

You overthink so much that your words don’t come out natural.

“I– I just… You– you love me, right?”

As you glance up at him, hands on his chest, you see Miguel’s soft expression harden. It almost makes you flinch: you’ve seen so many faces before that it’s hard to distinguish different types of stress. Or more like your own stress keeps you from determining his exact mood. So much so that, for a moment, you think he’ll answer no–

–but better than a yes–

–he sighs and presses his forehead against yours. Lets you feel small and safe and vulnerable all at once. In a way that you let him. And he traces the tips of his fingers down the side of your face–not quite cupping it, but brushing strands of your hair away.

“When I call you mi vida, mi amor, mi corazón – I don’t mean that you’re the love of my life. I mean that you are my heart in its entirety.” He gathers up your hands in his and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “That I am yours as much as you are mine.”

It’s his kindness that makes you break.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just– I trust you– I swear I do. But a part of me just nags that you don’t really want me. That all I do is annoy you. That I’m not enough and never will be–”

Miguel doesn’t say anything to halt your rants. He knows you need this moment to vent, and as such, does nothing but shush you gently as he sits upright and holds you in his lap. Once your cries quiet down, he wipes away your tears with his thumb, places a kiss to your forehead. All that, and more.

And seeing you pout, he gives you this half-soft, half-teasing smile.

“... Do you need me to praise you? I’ve got a lot of those up my sleeve, you know.”

You can feel how puffy your eyes are right now. Hell, you can feel all the side-effects of ugly crying–snotty nose, congested throat, raw skin. But Miguel doesn’t seem to care as you come to nod, only complying with what you need, and speaking gently as though singing a lullaby.

“Alright, then. You’re a good girl, you know. No–the best girl. I know you try your best in everything, but when it gets hard and you just want to exist for a bit, that’s okay, too. And have I mentioned how pretty you are? Ay por Dios, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. The smartest, too. She’s got me like a fool on a leash. Imagine that…”

You can feel sleep take you once again as he speaks. And you can feel the way he moves your shared blanket over your shoulders as your eyelids droop.

What you don’t hear is how he ends his little speech, long after consciousness has departed.

“And you’ll never believe how much I love her. Like I’m holding the world in my arms.”

[wildflowerteas]

almost forgot to send off our ch16 highlights!!

the Ace of Spades!! right from the start, that's been a key symbol in TSP. It's one of the aces on the logo of the double black, it's the highest valued card in most games, it's a stylized sword, and it's known as the death card in some games as well.

I GOT ANOTHER ONE OF YOUR BIRTHDAYS????? my mind . . . u_u tell Hella i need hers so i can have awful shit happen in the timeline for all of you.

TSP Yosano backstory will actually be coming soon! I've been purposefully avoiding it because I want her to talk about it with someone other than Dazai, for reasons I won't specify.

off to part 2 !!!

[tsukimefuku]

voice kink ♪ nanami kento

I ended up watching a YouTube short of Kenjiro Tsuda and it made me deeply unwell, hence this 30 minute drabble. Have my horny. Part 2 here

Nanami was a dedicated — you could even say devoted — lover. Truly, after so much time together, you doubted there was anything vanilla-related this man wouldn’t do in bed if you asked him to. The sheer lengths he’d go to have you finishing at least twice every time you had sex were surprising.

However, there was this one thing that still nagged you. You thought about it, mulled it over, and considered talking to him after he got home. However, your eagerness to talk about it got the better of you.

“Kento, why don’t you talk dirty to me when we’re having sex?” you asked him, still laying on the bed with your pajamas on.

He turned to you surprised, already dressed in his classic blue buttoned shirt, beige formal pants, and yellow tie with a splatter pattern hanging around his neck as he got ready to leave for work.

“For no reason in particular. I think I just tend to focus on how it feels rather than talking about it,” he answered, “why? Would you rather have me talking more?”

“Perhaps. I mean… I find your voice very sexy,” you admitted, blushing a little, “and one of my favorite parts of sex is when I get to hear it.”

He lifted an eyebrow, a soft hint of amusement taking over his impassiveness.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

He seemed to ponder on something for a moment, and then, began walking towards the bed as he opened the top button of his shirt.

You were confused for a moment as he climbed with his work clothes from the end of the mattress. However, in an instant, he took both your hands, entangling your fingers while he pressed them to the sides of your head, and sunk his hips in between your thighs, his belt softly catching on the edge of your pants.

Having you caged underneath him, Nanami brushed his lips against your cheek, and slid them slowly down.

His warm breath caressed your skin, and Nanami grazed his teeth on your earlobe before whispering only inches away from your ear, “what would you like to hear me say?”

“A-anything, really,” you stuttered out, thoughts becoming nothing but jumbled bits in your brain.

He hummed, “then, let me tell you what my favorite part is.”

Each syllable had you melting like honey under him, his deep tone caressing your hearing in all the right ways.

“My favorite part is when you are about to finish for the second time with me inside you, and you always dig your nails on my shoulders. I really like when I look in the mirror and see those tiny marks you leave me with, because every time I notice that they’re gone, I know it’s time to get some new ones.”

You let out a moan, sinking your head back on the pillow and arching your back. He pressed himself a little harder, and proceeded.

“I also find your taste to be exquisite, but I’m still unsure if it feels better when I have my tongue deep inside as you tremble all around it or when I’m thrusting it in your mouth right after I’m finished eating you out.”

Another moan tumbled out of your lips as you felt your heartbeat throbbing in between your legs, and at that moment, you were absolutely sure that if he kept going, you’d cum completely untouched underneath him.

“K-Kento...”

“Also, feeling you all warm and wet and tight around my cock when you ask me to have you completely raw is one of the most delicious sensations I’ve had in my entire life, topped only by when I cum inside you and fill you whole, all thick and warm.”

Holy. Fuck.

Your body was quivering underneath him, your breath completely broken in hitches, and you squirmed your hips desperate for some friction over your pooling wetness.

“I hope I gave you enough for you to think about me while I’m gone at work, darling,” Nanami concluded, planting a kiss on your cheek before lifting himself up, carrying his warmth along with him.

You realized that moment you definitely should’ve waited until that night to tell him that.

[ffsg0jo]

warnings: fem reader, insecure reader, chubby reader, drinking, self-deprecating thoughts, really awkward flirting, aizawa is whipped and doesnt know how to act, not proofread - inspired by this post by @/mintmatcha

fics for gaza commissions

They're laughing again.

The guys sat at the table across the room, kept glancing over in your direction, only to immediately look away when you noticed, going back to tittering amongst themselves.

They're laughing at you.

Your cheeks heat up, and you pointedly try not to look sideways in their direction, but the self-sabotaging part of your brain keeps urging you to look back. To make you suffer even more.

Staring at your drink, you try to take your mind off it by focusing on your friend's story; her words are drowned out by a sharp laugh, joined by more and loud clapping sounds.

Suddenly, everyone's laughing, and you can't breathe. The tight-fitting dress you're wearing is torturous, and your hands itched to rip it off. Why did you choose something that clung to you like a second skin? You wanted to unzip yourself out of the dress and out of your body, too.

Eyes catching onto your phone, you see your reflection on the screen, and you hated your friends. You felt bitter at the fact that they let you, encouraged you even, to go out wearing such a tight dress.

They convinced you it highlighted your 'curves' and brought out your features and that you looked good. And you felt good too, before you stepped into the club and felt their stares and heard their laughter.

(There's a small part of your brain telling you they did it on purpose.)

The laughter plateaus, and you realise your friend has stopped talking. You follow her eyes to see her looking past you, to the man that's just sat down on the barstool beside you.

Your breath hitches at his rugged beauty, his dark shaggy hair and somewhat scruffy stubble. You look away when he catches your eyes, but not before he shoots you a smirk over the rim of his glass.

Shame curls into your stomach and settles deep within your gut.

Your friend beside you slightly nudges you, whispering at you to make conversation with the man. 'He's so clearly into you'. In response to her words, you only let out a small laugh, shaking your head and fiddling with your fingers.

The man next to you finishes off his drink in one go and then leans into your field of vision.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He says, his voice tugging at the shame in your gut. Had you looked up at him a second earlier, you would've noticed the way his eyes hungrily ran over your body, having to finish his drink for some courage.

You figured it was some kind of joke, or he was just trying to get you to introduce him to your friend. There's no way a man like him would want someone like you.

You hesitated, and your friend jumped in for you.

"She'd love one," she said loudly, facing him with a smile. Your friend throws you a wink and then leaves you at the bar to go dance with your other friends. You so desperately wanted her to come back.

The man returns his gaze to you once more and frowns, noticing the look on your face.

"Do you want me to introduce you to her?" You asked him, disheartened, misunderstanding his frown. You expected this, even though every fibre of your body so badly wanted him to be interested in you. You knew it was unlikely.

"No, I was hoping to get to know you and buy you a drink. But if I'm making you uncomfortable, I can leave?"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He seemed sincere, but something in the back of your head was nagging at you, telling you he's lying and he's mocking you.

Ignoring the voice you decided to be brave.

"No it's fine, I'd love a drink."

The man smiles slightly and calls a bartender over. You both wait in a slightly uncomfortable silence for your drinks.

"Oh shit, Aizawa," he says, breaking the silence suddenly as your eyes snap to look at him. "My name." He adds on sheepishly.

Now that you've calmed down a little, you realise he looks nervous, a blush colouring his cheeks at his little outburst. You smile at him more sincerely, giving him your name.

Aizawa tastes your name on his tongue, repeating it out loud, and your body flushes the shame and insecurity out. You both go quiet once more, the silence a lot more comfortable this time.

"I'm sorry," he says, holding his drink that was placed down in front of him moments ago. "I haven't done this in a while, and not with anyone as beautiful as you."

You pause, not knowing what to say, and as you open your mouth to say something, anything, he speaks again.

"Your dress is gorgeous, by the way. I like it a lot. I like you a lot."

A slight laugh escapes your lips, and your face heats up once more, only this time the thoughts in your head remain silent.

"I uhh, like your hair. A lot. And your shoes are nice," you don't know why you added that last part. You didn't even see what shoes Aizawa was wearing. It was as though your brain disconnected from your mouth at his compliment, and any nonsense started coming out.

Aizawa breathes out a laugh and leans closer to you. You feel his breath fan your face, and you wonder what his stubble would feel like against your cheeks, your neck, your stomach, and-

"I know a place not too far from here. They have really good kebabs, do you wanna join me?" He asks, wondering if it's too soon.

It'd only been 10 or 15 minutes since he had sat next to you, but you were itching to get out of the bar. You nodded immediately, grateful for the out. A smile graces your face. You had a good feeling about Aizawa.

Your stomach rumbled, and you both laughed. A kebab sounded good right about now.

(Aizawa was somewhat in disbelief that you, an angel, had wanted to go out with him. He moved off his chair and held his hand out to you, holding your hand in his as you both moved to the exit.

The bartender, however, stops him, calling out after him, telling him he forgot to pay his tab. Aizawa looks at you sheepishly and tells you to wait outside. He walks back in shame, apologising to the bartender, and pays for his drinks.

Coming back to your side, he gently takes hold of your your hand. You both look at eachother for a couple of seconds, you trying to stifle laughter at what just occurred.

Laughter filled the air as you walked to the kebab shop.)

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[milla-frenchy]

Hold my hand

4k1 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: a stranger saves your life. Or your and Javi’s love story Warnings: 18+ mdni. soft!Javi, alternating pov, fingering, Javi can lift reader, size kink, oral (f/m), piv, creampie. No age specified.

a/n: this is written for PPCU Body Worship writing challenge, hosted by @joelmillerisapunk 😘🫶 I got Javi and hands 😍

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 @saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

You were walking towards the beach, enjoying the warmth of the sun on your bare legs and arms. Once arrived, you laid your beach towel on the sand, took off your shorts and a tank top, and put on some sunscreen. Then you dipped your feet in the water. Its temperature was perfect. You walked along the shore for a few minutes and looked at the few surfers and swimmers. 

You couldn’t resist the idea of swimming and you moved towards the open sea. You let it slightly cool your thighs, then your stomach. You dove under a wave, enjoying the coolness of the water. You swam a few breaststrokes, and let yourself be carried on your back between each wave for a few minutes.

When you looked back towards the shore, you noticed that the current had carried you much further than you thought. You were a good swimmer and didn't worry, starting to crawl towards the beach. 

But a wave you didn't see coming washed over you. You swallowed a mouthful of water, just before another one broke on you. You realized that you were in deep water, even farther away than before, and a third wave took you by surprise, leaving you breathless. 

The current was still pulling you further away and you started to worry.

Each of your other attempts to reach the shore was a failure, and the worry turned into panic. It overwhelmed you. You knew that you had to stay calm, but you couldn't think straight anymore.

Another wave swept you away and a full panic, nagging, tightening your stomach, was overtaking your brain. 

You looked around. A few surfers were on their boards, unaware of what was happening a few feet away from them. When another wave swept you back with it, you felt helpless. Seeing the shore even further away.

“You ok?”

You turned towards the voice just before another wave hit you. A hand grabbed yours and pulled you back up to the surface. The man was facing you, worried. 

“I… I can't go back,” you answered, trying to blink back the tears that were gathering in your eyes.

“I'm gonna help you. Don’t worry, everything's gonna be ok.”

You nodded, holding onto his hand.

“A wave is coming, we’ll use it to get closer to the shore. When I tell you, kick your feet, okay?”

“Okay,” you stammered.

“Now!”

You did as he told you, and when you looked up at the shore, it was a little closer.

“Another wave, it's gonna crash on us. It's just foam, okay? I’ll hold your hand. Take a deep breath, now!”

You took a quick breath before the wave hit you. Clinging to his firm hand.

“Please don't let go of me. Don't let go of me,” you pleaded after his firm grip pulled you back to the surface.

“I won't, trust me. We'll get to the shore in a few minutes.”

“But the last wave pushed us away!” You didn't mean to yell but your panic was too strong.

The man, on the other hand, remained calm. There was no fear in him, as if he was used to handling potentially complicated situations.

“I know, but another wave is coming - a good one - and we’re gonna use it to move forward. Swim!” 

You followed his instructions with each wave, good or bad, holding his hand tightly. His hand never shook, never let go of you, and that silenced your apprehension. 

And you finally reached the shore.

“We made it, see? You did great and you're ok. I'm Javi, what's your name?”

He was looking at you, slightly worried as he was waiting for your reaction. You knew he was talking to you to bring you back to the reality: you were safe.

You gave him your name, still choking, exhausted from the effort.

“I’m glad to meet you. Everything's ok. Where are your things?”

You showed him and he accompanied you there, without letting go of your shaking hand.

“Here. How are you?”

“I'm… I'm…”

You were holding back your tears, realizing that without him you would still be struggling in the sea, or worse.

“Thank you, Javi. I’m… I think you saved my life.”

“I just helped you a little, you needed reassurance. It’s easy to panic in these situations.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Do you need me to stay with you for a few minutes, or are you ok?”

You assured him that you were fine. He smiled at you and waved, before walking away. You lay down on your towel, catching your breath, and watched him walk over to his towel and drink some water before going back into the sea. You turned to the other side and the tears that you’d been holding back finally fell.

Once you calmed down, you sat up and looked at the man’s things. You grabbed a paper and a pen from your bag.

“I didn’t get to thank you properly. Here’s my number. I’d be happy to take you out to dinner, if that’s okay with you.”

You put the paper under his sunscreen and left.

Several days passed when he finally called you. You already thought he wouldn’t reach out to you. He thanked you but told you that the invitation was unnecessary, that the help he had given you was completely normal. You insisted kindly, and a meeting at a restaurant was arranged for the next evening.

When you arrived, he was already there, waiting for you in front of the restaurant, dark glasses on and a cigarette between his lips. You realized that you hadn't even looked at him well, given the events.  He was breathtakingly handsome- brown hair, clean-shaven face except for his mustache. He was dressed in black and his clothes fitted him perfectly. He was gorgeous.

You got out of your car and joined him.

The dinner went by without any awkward silence or discomfort. You told him about your job, and he told you that he used to work for the government in Colombia, but had now moved back to Texas. He seemed like a confident man, not too emotional but caring. You tried not to stare at him too much not to seem creepy but his beautiful face hypnotized you. Your gaze sometimes rested for a few moments on his large, veiny hands. So masculine. Those hands that had supported you in the sea.

“Have you gone swimming since that day?”

You looked down before admitting that you were slightly scared.

“You should go back. To not let that worry set in.” Sensing your uncertainty, he added, “I can go with you if you want. So that you could regain your confidence.”

You agreed to meet at the beach the next morning, before each leaving in your own car.

You met up the next day as planned, and at first you didn't even think about the sea. You got chills seeing him in his swimsuit. He had a slim waist, broad shoulders, and a body of a Greek statue.

“You ready?” he asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“Will you go with me? Just in case”, you murmured. Your fear of swimming again was slowly taking over you.

“Of course. I won’t let you handle this alone, Hermosa.”

Your mind was telling you that maybe the nickname wasn't special. But the butterflies in your stomach didn't hear it that way.

Damn, you were down bad for him, and you barely knew anything about him.

“You coming?” he asked, already in the water, looking at you as you stood frozen on the sand.

“Yeah! Yeah, sure”, you replied, following him to the shore.

Javi hesitated for several days to call you, after seeing your note. When he saw you struggling in the sea, it awakened his protective instincts. He couldn’t help himself with them.

During dinner at the restaurant, of course he saw the way you looked at him, even if you tried to hide it. He was trained to sense emotions, feelings. And he didn’t want to let yours settle. You weren’t some hooker he would fuck in exchange for information, or to release pressure. He had never wanted to break hearts, even if he was used to it happening. He knew the effect he had on women. As soon as you walked out of your car, he already knew what you felt.

The way your hand had latched onto his in the sea, the way your beautiful eyes were staring at him in the restaurant, brought out emotions he had been pushing away for a long time. And he didn’t want to feel those emotions. Not that time, when he had only recently left Colombia, and when he was longing for a normal life. But a voice in his head kept telling him that that was a normal life. Spending time with someone, no matter what happened next. And right now, he was trying to resist that voice. Even though his flirtatious side couldn't help but come out when he called you that nickname. He felt the way your body reacted. It made his cock twitch in his swimsuit. Luckily, you were too focused on his lips to notice. So he walked towards the sea, counting on its coolness to refresh him. And his cock.

When you reached him, he was already waist-deep in the water. He was walking so fast from the beach that you wondered if he was even waiting for you.

“It’s a perfect day to go swimming again. There aren’t too many waves, it will allow you to get back to your usual sensations. Shall we?”

You nodded, and you swam for a few moments, moving a little away from the shore. You felt safe with Javi by your side. Until a wave bigger than the others formed.

“Javi!!” you called, voice worried.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. Stay calm, you’re gonna do it.”

You took a deep breath and dove under the wave, as you had done hundreds of times before that cursed day. When you came out of the water, you met his worried gaze, waiting to see if you were okay. And you were. He smiled, and you spent a long time swimming in the sea. Your fear was gone, thanks to him.

You went to have a drink at a bar next to the beach. It was Javi who had suggested it, and you were delighted. You were still at the bar when he took your hand in his and complimented your nails. You were under his spell, and you felt yourself blush like a teenager.

You saw each other every day after that. Spending more and more time together. He smiled and laughed regularly now, opening up to you.

One evening, you went to the movies. You were scooping popcorn out of the same bucket, and sometimes your fingers would brush against each other. He needed to feel you more, and couldn't wait any longer—he brushed your arm with his hand, and you looked at each other. The intensity of his gaze was so strong that you could barely hold it.

“Do you wanna come to my place after the movie, Hermosa?” 

You nodded. But you two didn't wait any longer and left for his place in a minute.

He grabbed your hand as you were walking to his car, and his lips crashed against yours, his hands tightening around your waist. Your tongues brushed against each other as his hands were already roaming your body. Everything about him exuded sensuality. He was like a wild animal. A thirsty, hungry, agile feline, having captured his prey that just wanted to be devoured. You finally made it to the car, and luckily his apartment wasn’t far away. You kissed whenever the traffic allowed, and your fingers had already run through his hair more times than you could count on two hands. You were glued to each other until you walked through the door of his apartment. You wondered if Javi would be the love of your life or the one who would break your heart into a thousand pieces. But right now you didn’t care, only that moment mattered. Those feelings that he made you feel. You wanted his hands all over your body, and you probably had wished for it since the first time he grabbed yours, in the sea.

When you entered the dining room and he pressed your ass against the table, you were both breathless. The clothes you had gradually taken off littered the floor of his apartment. You were only wearing your panties, and Javi still had his jeans on. One of his arms was around your waist, keeping you tight against him, and he squeezed a breast with his other hand, before taking it in his mouth, sucking and licking your nipple. Your fingers ran through his hair until you took his hands in yours, eager to touch them in different circumstances, and you kissed the tips of his fingers. He looked at you, eyes fixed on your lips that were placing small kisses on his skin. Keeping his hands in yours, you lowered one of them to your crotch. Sliding his fingers along your folds still covered by your panties.

“You’re so hot, baby”, he murmured. He smelled of tobacco and mint, and you were intoxicated by his scent.

You kept brushing your folds and your swollen clit with his fingers. He let you do it, as if he liked not being in charge. You could hear his breathing quicken, his jerky heartbeat against yours. You grabbed the hem of your panties and pulled them down to mid-thigh.

“I think I fell in love with your hands that day. Wanna feel them in me”, you whispered into his ear. With your underwear still around your thighs, you took his hand in yours again, slid it down to your pussy, and stroked yourself with his fingers. Running them over your soaked parts. You moaned against his chest before pushing them further into you. You used his digits to finger yourself, and it was perhaps the most sensual thing you had ever done.

Your fingers pressed to his, he kept fucking you slowly and you rubbed your clit with your thumb.

“I’m… I’m gonna come, Javi.”

He placed his other hand against the back of your neck, holding you tight, and you came on his fingers. Panting, you let your forehead rest against his shoulder, catching your breath while his hand was caressing your hair.

“Came so hard for me, baby…” 

He brushed and breathed in your hair, holding you close. You didn’t expect him to be so gentle, so patient. You knew nothing about his past, his love life, but when you had seen him in front of that restaurant, so sure of himself, so handsome, you had imagined someone else. A womanizer, maybe. 

You hastily removed your panties, just in time for him to lift you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. He grabbed your ass with his hands to hold you up and kissed you. You couldn’t get enough of running your fingers through his hair while you were kissing his luscious, warm lips. His mustache was soft against your skin.

He carried you to his bedroom, as unknown sensations were running through his mind. 

Javi wasn’t the one to fall in love. His life was always dedicated to his job. It was dangerous in Colombia and he didn't want to involve someone in it. 

So he fucked women he met in bars. Women that fell for him, the second their eyes were laid on him. He would bring them home, he wouldn’t have gone to the movies with them. There would have been no seduction game.

He fucked hookers regularly, too. His informants. He cared about them and offered them protection as much as possible. But he didn’t love them.

But since he had met you (saved you) on that beach, since he had seen your eyes filled with tears, since he had gotten to know you, his heart was beating in a way it had never done before. Even for his ex fiancee. He had not yet thrust into you and he already dreamed of waking up against you. He didn’t know what was happening but this bliss intoxicated him. He felt himself melting at your touch and he yearned for more. For the first time, he could offer his protection to someone who was not related to his job. Someone who wasn’t in danger of being hurt or murdered by sicarios. Someone for whom he wasn’t a client. Now that life was behind him, and his heart was craving something else. Proximity. Sharing everything he had to offer with someone. 

With you.

He lowered you, next to his bed. Your eyes met and your sweetness made him melt again. He brushed your cheek tenderly.

“You know,” he said, “I’ve seen the worst in my job. The darkest possible things. One day I’ll try to tell you about it. And the way you’re looking at me right now… it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. The sweetest, and I feel like I’m seeing something bright for the first time, finally. And I needed it.”

His confession took your breath away. You felt deep down that he was sincere. He wasn’t playing a perverted game to lure you into his bed. It was stronger than that, and it was overwhelming.

“I need…”

“What do you need, Hermosa?”

“Need to feel you… need you inside me.”

“Not yet, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Hurt me? Why would you hurt me?”

He unzipped his jeans, and your eyes didn't know where to look. His face, his shoulders, his chest. His body was beautiful. He pulled down his jeans, he wasn't wearing anything underneath. Your eyes landed on his cock, and your mouth turned into an O. You were unable to make a sound.

“Do you trust me, baby?” he asked, taking off his pants completely.

“I… Yeah, of course.”

“Let me get you ready, okay? Lie down on the bed. I’ll go slow.”

You did what he said and bent your knees. He settled between your thighs, and his face just above your pussy was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life. 

His thumb ran over your wet, soaked folds.

“I wanna taste you. Wanna feel you shake.”

He licked your cunt up and down, in one long stripe, and growled. Your taste, your scent was driving him crazy. 

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You taste so good.”

He wanted to make you come on his fingers and his tongue, and never stop eating you. He wanted to feel you around his cock. He wanted it all, and he felt like his heart was going to explode.

He kissed your clit, then placed his lips around it. Sucking it lightly before swirling it under his tongue, and you curled your toes instantly.

He pushed one finger, then two, into your dripping pussy. Your fingers gripped his temples then his hair, and he was crazy about the feeling, about you expressing need and eagerness. He was listening to your moans, which were getting louder and louder. Feeding on them. He felt that you were going to come again soon, that you would be ready to take him. His cock kept throbbing, the precum flowing down his cock. He was used to preparing pussies before fucking them. He sometimes did it mechanically. But not today, not with you. His 5 senses were alert and fully focused on you, until your hands clenched his hair and you pulsed on his tongue. Your walls squeezed his fingers while you sang his name, and it was the most beautiful music he had ever heard.

He placed one last kiss on your clit, softly, watching you come down from your high. His eyes just above your heaving stomach, and his fingers still buried inside you.

You sat up, and said “lemme taste you, Javi. I want to feel you on my tongue, please, baby.”

Your voice was a melody to his ears. The way you said “baby” could have been enough to make him come in the sheets.

“Fuck… ok baby, ok.”

He lay down and you knelt down next to him, marveling at his gorgeous, tan cock. The tip was oozing. You licked his slit softly, impregnating your throat with his taste, before taking his tip in your mouth and sucking it gently. Your fist clenched on his shaft, your head bobbing, your lips completely spread around his cock. Eager to give him as much pleasure as he had given you. Your thumb brushed his balls before you licked them. Sucking his soft and fine skin.

“Damn, Hermosa… Fuck, that’s good, baby. So good.”

His praise made your pussy drip while you kept sucking, lapping at his balls, his shaft, his tip. You couldn't help but crawl up to his lips to kiss them before taking him back in your mouth, until he begged you to stop.

“Wait, baby please. I wanna feel you around me. Wanna see how beautiful you are, all spread out for me.”

You kissed his stomach, licked his nipples, and spread kisses on his collarbone, then his lips. He gently manhandled you to lie down under him. His hands cupped your cheeks and you kissed, the taste of him and you mixing between your lips. His body weighed down perfectly on yours. He grabbed his cock and nestled it at your entrance, making you moan. You bucked your hips forward, eager to finally feel him inside you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight… So tight for me,” he said as he pushed in slightly. Your walls parted for him as he buried his head into the pillow, his breath hitching in the crook of your neck.

“Wanna feel you, Javi. All of you.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you… I need to go slow.”

“It’s ok, I swear. Thrust in, please. I need to feel you, all of you in me.”

He pushed in, just like you wanted him to. The effect made you bite your lip, your pleasure overflowing throughout your being.

“Oh my god, Javi… you're so big, you feel so good…” He kissed your forehead, then rubbed his aquiline nose against yours before placing his lips on yours. It was the most intimate sex you had ever experienced. More intimate than any you had experienced with previous boyfriends. He was thrusting softly, slow and deep strokes without taking his eyes off you.

“You look so good beneath me,” he murmured.

His hand slid between you and he brushed your clit, amplifying your moans.

“Javi… so thick…”

“I know baby, I know. It's a lot.”

“Yeah, yeah… too… too much.”

“Too much? You want me to stop?” he asked, looking at you, a little worried.

“No! No, too much sensation but I love it. Don't stop, please, I wanna feel them all.”

“Damn, baby, I… I wanna feel you come on my cock. Can you do that for me? Squeeze my cock with your tight, little pussy?”

“Fuck… yeah… yeah keep going. I’m gonna come… oh fuck!!”

Your walls squeezed his shaft so tightly when you came for the third time, that he whimpered.

“Where?” he asked, almost out of breath.

“Inside, inside…” you replied, still shaking.

Your face in his hands, he didn’t stop watching you, thrusting in as slowly until he spilled his cum in your pussy, rope after rope. He lay against you and turned you towards him, his soothed cock resting against his thigh, his cum leaking out of your pussy.

He always thought that you got better with time when you have sex with someone. He wondered how it could get better with you.

He held you close, your face against his chest, his hand on the back of your neck and the other on your lower back. He knew that you needed him to protect you, and he had a lot of protection to offer. 

“Keep your hands on me, Javi, please,” you whispered before falling asleep.

No, Javi hadn’t fallen in love. Ever. 

Until the day his hand caught yours in the sea and you taught him another way to take care of someone. 

And he had never felt so free in his life, so peaceful. After years of daily angst and darkness, his heart finally felt lighter in his chest.

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[deanstead]

Low Effort

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: Y/N gets a surprise visit, which triggers some unpleasant symptoms

Word Count: 1k+

Tags/Warnings: mentions of stomach cramps, slight allusion to anxiety, negative emotions

A/N: Long time no see! This is a thing I needed to get off my chest and needed to get the emotions out, so it’s just some Jay comfort/fluff. Also, a warning that I haven’t written in so long, this kind of feels a bit meh, so I hope I haven’t lost too much of my writing touch LOL

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You closed your laptop shut, just as your phone lit up with a notification about a new message from Jay.

Sorry, got held up. 10 minutes. Tops.

You smiled, typing a quick response of acknowledgment to tell him not to hurry before you got up, grabbing your bag. You were too fried to continue anything else so you figured you would just go and wait for him. Fresh air was better than whatever was coming through the office vents.

As the glass doors of the main entrance on the first floor slid open and you felt the chill of the Chicago winds hit your face, you sighed. Fresh air was definitely better.

“Y/N.”

You glanced up, your eyebrows naturally bunching together at the sound of a woman’s voice.

As your eyes met hers, you froze for a moment, your brain still processing the fact that she was here.

“Amy?” Her name slipped past your lips before you could stop yourself, even though the only emotion you were feeling at this moment was surprise. There was nothing positive or negative about it.

Amy could feel it in your voice as well. “Can we talk? I’ve missed you.”

You frowned as a cramp shot through your lower abdomen.

“I thought we were better friends than this. Low-maintenance, remember?” Amy said, and you could hear the tone in her voice, the one she used when she was upset or disappointed.

The feeling of indignation shot through you once again.

“Yeah, low maintenance, not low effort.”

Your voice was low but you didn’t let the emotion sway it. You spent years telling yourself that it was just a low-maintenance friendship, that you were both just busy, but you couldn’t ignore the way she’d reappear in front of you only when she needed your support, or when the guy she was seeing was out of town.

You glanced up at the street but hadn’t seen Jay’s car yet.

You exhaled. “Look, Amy. You have your priorities, I get it. Just don’t expect me to drop mine when you blow back into town or when your boyfriend doesn’t have time for you. It doesn’t work that way.”

You felt the cramps intensify and knew what it was. You called it “emotional cramps” with Jay, joking that as long as he kept you happy you’d be fine. Yet, here they were again. Maybe it was because you hadn’t had them in a while, you felt them more intensely now.

You put a hand on your stomach as you looked up at Amy. As expected, she had an indignant look on her face.

“How could you say that, Y/N? I know the fact that I was seeing Trevor was a sore spot with you because you weren’t seeing anyone so I didn’t want to make things harder for you. But now…”

You couldn't even respond as the pain ripped through you once again and you bent forward slightly, your knees buckling a little. You braced yourself for the impact of your knees hitting the concrete sidewalk when you felt his arms around you.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

Jay.

Amy seemed stunned for a moment before she spoke again, “It must be her…”

“Why’s it acting up?” Jay asked, his entire focus on you as you glanced up at him and quietly shook your head.

Jay glanced up at Amy. They didn’t know each other since you’d met Jay sometime after contact between you and Amy had dwindled to almost nothing. By the time you and Jay had started dating, you’d made up your mind to let go of Amy and this friendship, and it had merely nagged at you a little at the back of your mind from time to time so you hadn’t brought her up.

“Come on, we’re going to Med,” Jay said quietly, pulling you upright.

You glanced at him. “Don’t you dare carry me,” You warned.

Despite the worried look in his eyes, Jay smiled. “We’re going to Will.” He repeated, almost like he was daring you to argue.

You didn’t argue. Partly because all you wanted to do was get out of there but partly because you knew it was useless. Besides, the pain was more intense than you remembered.

Without a second glance back, Jay helped you into the car and drove off, both of you leaving Amy still standing on the sidewalk.

You knew what had triggered the attack, so after getting medication for the pain and cramping, you’d been feeling much better.

“You know I’d be feeling even better if you would stop hovering, Detective.” You said, directing the comment at your boyfriend.

Will smiled as he tapped on the iPad in his hand and glanced at his brother. “She’s fine. Her tests are normal, and it was probably just a one-off stress-related attack.”

You nodded. “I’ll follow up with my therapist, I promise.”

Will ruffled your hair affectionately and you growled because he knew you hated it.

“I’ll get the discharge started.”

Jay was quiet as he leaned over you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, before you glanced back down.

“Amy’s an old friend.” You said, after a while. "At least, she was."

Jay didn’t say anything, so you continued, telling him about how Amy was when she started dating anyone, and it only progressively got worse. “And it’s not about seeing her often, you know? It’s just…”

Jay nodded. “You didn’t feel like she cared.”

You sighed quietly. “I just… it got to a point where I realized she didn’t care. I was a friend when she needed me, and when she didn’t, I just… didn’t exist. And apparently, to her, that’s me being sore.”

Jay just took your hand in his, gently stroking your fingers.

“But I just realized it was better to have no one than to be treated that way, so I just…”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Jay said quietly. “Listen, someone who gives you low effort doesn’t deserve you. I don’t care who they are. Anyone who makes you feel this way doesn’t deserve even one percent of you.”

You looked up at him and smiled, a little sadness hidden behind it.

“I guess seeing her today just brought it all back, you know? And then it triggered all those emotions and then my stomach cramps decided to join the party.” You made a face.

Jay smiled quietly back at you. “But you know what? You’re not alone. At least not anymore.”

You smiled and leaned forward for a hug. Jay perched by the edge of the bed, pulling you gently into his arms and you buried your face into his shoulders, feeling his arms encircle your entire body.

“I know.” You whispered.

Jay kissed the top of your head. “Good.”

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[sarawritestories]

Kneel Before Your High Lord

Eris X Fem reader

A dedication to @ninthcircleofprythian for encouraging the feralness.

Summary: A stressful encounter with the High Lord of the Night Court has you coming home to your High Lord, your mate, who is all Too willing to help you unwind for a while

Content Warning: Night Court being shady, dom sub dynamics, male oral receiving implied, fade to black, unedited

Divider made by @tsunami-of-tears

Tears began to well up in my eyes as I left the dark hallowed palace the High Lord of the Night Court called home. My mate entrusted me to go to this meeting on his behalf. To ensure our alliance was secured now that Beron was gone.

I had failed.

His band of miscreants humiliated me, the shadowsinger looking at me as if I were a play thing he could bend to his will. Something in his gaze unnerved me rightfully, so the reputation of the spymaster was as long and as gruesome as his wings.

Being completely disregarded and made to feel like I was not worthy of Rhysand's presence I was dismissed with barely a hand gesture and a smug, "If the High Lord of Autumn wishes for a meeting, tell him he will have to show his face in order to do so."

Embarassing.

Eris had said they were all dreamers, and all had the same goal of maintaining peace, having the freedom to simply exist. The nagging side of my brain couldn't help but wonder if they only showed that side to him. That only to those who deem respectable and powerful were worthy of looking within the mask.

You would think that being the High Lord's mate would have given me that level of respect.

Before a tear could slide down my cheek, I windowed to the one place I felt safe.

Home.

My mind had been reeling deeply that, that I was unaware of Sadie; my hound Eris had gifted me as a mating gift guiding me to his study. It was only when her tongue met the palm of my hand that I was pulled from my stupor petting her soft gray fur I lightly knocked on the door.

"Enter." Eris' voice filled with the command of a high lord caused my toes to curl as I opened the door. His copper eyes met mine and instantly softened, "Home so soon, My Love?" He tilted his head his red curls illuminating against the setting sun. His eyes assessed my face and immediately rose from his chair to approach me. "What happened?" His calloused hands cupped my cheeks, his thumbs stroking idly along my face.

The dam broke, and my body tore out in a string sobs.

Eris tucked my face in his chest as he stroked my back as I told him of my encounter in the Court of Nightmares.

"Eris, please don't make me go back there." Eris ran his fingers through my hair, his soft lips pressing against my temple. His touch was always so soothing for me.

"The next time I go over there, Rhysand will wish he never treated you with such disrespect, Pet." I stiffened slightly at the sound of his name for me. He pushed me away gently, in order to see my face, even through the tears I could make out the cute freckles across his nose that made him look youthful, a youth that was stolen from him.

He gripped my chin with his thumb with just enough force to tell me what wad going on, "Would you like to forget for a little while?" My heart began to flutter as I attempted to nod my head only for him to firmly keep my head in place. "You know better. Use your words."

Heat began to pool between my legs at the commanding tone in his voice, "Please, my Lord. Play with me."

Eris pressed his lips to mine, giving my bottom lip a small bite before releasing me. "Put on your uniform, and return here when you're done." He pulled the pin from my hair, allowing my curls to cascade down falling to my shoulders. "Hair stays down."

"Yes, My Lord."

Eris gave me a mischievous grin, "Good Girl."

I walked back into his study in my silk robe, knowing well that I didn't want the staff to see the Green Corset and matching lace panties that left little to the imagination. "Robe off." His command jolted me as he hadn't even looked up from his paperwork.

I quickly remove the garment to reveal the bodice of the corset with intricate gold lace design that compliments the green lace around my thigh with Eris' name in gold lettering. Eris' eyes finally meet mine, and the russet hues of his iris glow like the fire in his veins. He tucks his bottom lip behind his teeth as though assessing my appearance and his gaze causes my cheeks to warm. "What to do with you, Pet."

I bow, "Use me how you wish, My Lord."

Eris motions his finger, indicating for me to move closer to him. I do as instructed, and when I approach, there is a stagnant pause. He resumes his work, "I expect my pet to kneel before her High Lord."

"Apologies, My Lord." I whisper, my stomach flipping at the command in his tone, my need to serve him and not think for a while. My knees hit the plush carpet, and my head lowered. His fingers is immediately running through my hair.

"My Sweet Girl. My sweet, loving girl. Look at me." I meet his gaze, and there is a warm smile on his face. "You are amazing, I need you to know that. You didn't fail me. You made me proud. Do you hear me?" I nod my head, and his eyes darken, "Words, Love."

"Yes, my Lord." He leans down to kiss me. I go to grip his face when he catches my wrist.

"Good, now be my good girl and make your High Lord feel good while I work. Then, when I'm done, I will worship you like the goddess you are."

I smiled and tucked myself under his desk and showed my high Lord just how much I loved him.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Difference of Opinions (Part 1)

Fandom: Spider-Man, Spider-Verse, Across the Spider-Verse, Miguel O'Hara, f!Reader Summary: You went against the man you loved and helped Miles escape. Now you must face Miguel's wrath. Word Count: 1821 TW: Angst, Betrayal, Anger, Glitching, Left for Dead, Miguel has a temper Notes: I told myself I wasn't going to get sucked into writing for this movie, but this idea wouldn't stop nagging at my brain so here you go!

Prequel, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Series Masterlist

*Spoilers for Across the Spider-Verse*

As you watched Miles disappear in a flash of the Go Home machine, you couldn’t help but smile. For a moment, you had been afraid that he wasn’t going to make it. That despite everything you, Hobie, and Margo had done to help him, Miguel was going to stop him before he could escape. But he got to go home to try and save his father. He had a chance.

However, the smile slowly faded from your face as Miguel roared and ripped the arm off of the Go Home machine. You had been so focused on getting Miles off of Earth-928 that you hadn’t considered what happened afterwards. This was going to be bad.

The room had filled with other Spider-people who had all been involved in the chase for Miles and they all just stared at Miguel. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Margo’s avatar disappear and you sighed in relief. At least she would escape Miguel’s fury. 

Right now, his focus had turned towards Gwen. As they began yelling back and forth at one another and Miguel dragged her into the Go Home machine, you started to back out of the room as inconspicuously as possible. While part of you wanted to run to Gwen’s aid, she was being sent back to her own universe. It was heartbreaking to watch– especially knowing what was going to happen to her father when she returned –however, she was getting off easy considering her part in getting Miles involved in the Spider-Society in the first place. Things could have been a lot worse for her. As they would probably be for you if you didn’t let Miguel cool down for a while before confronting him.

You had just about made it to the door when you heard a snarl behind you. “And where do you think you’re going?”

Red webs coiled around your arms and legs pinning them to your body and making you fall to the floor. Before you could try to squirm your way out, Miguel yanked hard and you flew backwards into him. He caught your chin with one large hand, his nails sharpening into claws and digging painfully into your skin as he held you off the ground. 

His red eyes flashed dangerously as he roared in your face, “Did you think I wouldn’t see you trying to slink away? You helped him escape! You! Of the hundreds of us in the Spider-Society, you were the last one I ever imagined turning against me.”

“I haven’t turned against you, Miguel. You know I love you too much to ever do that.” With your face still pinned in his grasp, you tried your best to keep your expression calm and non-confrontational. You knew how he got when he was like this and it was better to not get him even more agitated. However, your voice remained firm and unwavering. “But right now, you’re letting your past cloud your judgment and you’re not thinking clearly. I was just trying to–”

“He’s trying to alter a second canon event! We still haven’t dealt with what he did in Mumbattan and you just let him get away to do it again!” He bared his sharp teeth at you as he growled deep in his throat. In all your years together as friends or as lovers, you had never once feared Miguel would hurt you…. until this moment. All reason seemed to have left him and all you saw when you looked at his face was fury and pain. There was no trace of the man you loved before you.

Trying to keep the quiver out of your voice, you calmly said, “You said it yourself. Miles is an anomaly. He was never supposed to be one of us so who’s to say he has to uphold the canon events? From what I can tell, the Peter Parker of that world already lost his captain before he died. So maybe Miles has a chance none of us ever got. Maybe he doesn’t have to bear this loss like the rest of us. Maybe he can change his fate.”

“‘Maybe! Maybe! Maybe’! You risked the lives of an entire universe on maybe!” Miguel’s grip on your face tightened and you mewled slightly as his claws broke skin. “Whether or not he was supposed to be Spider-Man, he is now. And that means he must follow the canon. If he was different than the rest of us, he wouldn’t have already lost his uncle.”

“Or may– possibly becoming the Prowler is what got that Aaron Davis killed, not because he was Miles’s uncle.” You tried to reach up to stroke Miguel’s cheek, to calm some of his anger, but your hands were still pinned to your side by his webs. “Miguel, don’t do this. I’m begging you. Please, let Miles try. Trust that I know what I’m doing.”

Slowly, Miguel’s fury faded from his face until there was nothing left but pain. Pain that you knew you had caused. He lowered you to the floor and loosened his grip on your face though he didn’t release you. Then, as he stared deeply into your eyes, he spoke in an agonized whisper. “I did trust you. I would have gone to the ends of the multiverse and beyond for you. I gave you my heart even after I swore never to open myself up to anyone again but you turned your back on me the first chance you had.”

Tears sprung to your eyes and you squirmed against the webs, desperate to touch him. To hold him and make him feel that your love for him never wavered. “You know that’s not true. I’ve stood by your side from the very beginning. I’ve loved you and helped you build this Society so we could uphold the canon across hundreds of universes. But I just… I just couldn’t stand by this time and not at least give Miles a chance to try and save someone he loves. I’m sorry.”

For just a moment, you thought you saw a glimpse of compassion or love in his gaze but it was quickly replaced by bitter cold indifference. “I’m not.”

His claws slashed through his webbing, freeing your limbs. But before you could move, Miguel grabbed your arm, ripped your portal watch from your wrist, and hurled it against the wall where it shattered into pieces. Still holding your arm, he tossed you across the room. You crashed into the floor and slid another dozen feet or so on your side. And just as you slowed to a stop, you glitched as this unfamiliar universe attacked your cells. 

You felt like your body was simultaneously being compressed and stretched in a hundred directions at once. When the glitch ended, you let out a small whimper but the sound didn’t cull Miguel’s rage any. Even as you lay in a heap on the ground, he tossed a disk in your direction and suddenly a red transparent field surrounded you. 

Unable to believe he was really doing this to you, you called out to him but he ignored your plea. Instead, he turned his back on you and growled, “Jess, Ben, come with me. And somebody catch Spot.”

Jess glanced at his retreating form then back to where you were now confined. “Miguel. You can’t just leave her like this. Without a watch–”

“She made her bed, now she can die in it,” he snapped without turning around. He simply opened a portal and said, “Let’s go.”

Ben fell in behind him, but Jess hesitated, her hand reaching out towards you. But you shook your head. Miguel had judged you and once that happened, no one could change his mind. Jess had too much to lose by trying to help you and despite hating to see her leaving to track Miles down, you knew she was just as trapped now as you were. So, reluctantly, she turned and followed Miguel and Ben into the portal.

Now alone, you pulled your knees up to your chest and buried your face in them. You didn’t regret helping Miles, but you never imagined this would be the consequence. Miguel had a right to feel betrayed yet the fact he would go this far– that he was alright with you slowly glitching out of existence – broke your heart. Miguel had never been a saint but you never imagined he could do this. Not to you. How could his love sour so quickly that he was willing to let you die rather than try to understand why you did what you did? 

No. I won’t accept that.

Miguel was just not thinking clearly after everything that had happened today. Deep down, he still loved you. He had to. Just as you still loved him despite him leaving you to die in this cage. If you could only show him that you were right and Miles was different, then maybe Miguel could forgive you for going against him. And maybe there was still hope for the two of you. Or maybe he would still want you dead. 

Wow, Miguel was right and you did rely heavily on “maybe”.

However, there was just something about this situation that made you believe in those maybes. For years you had protected the multiverse by Miguel’s side and you had never questioned his decisions or a canon event. But something in your gut– in your spider-sense –was telling you this time was different. That Miles really could break from the canon without the same consequences as the others. But you would never know unless you found a way out of this cage!

Suddenly, you remembered how Miles managed to escape the same sort of prison an hour before. You might not have his Venom Blast powers but maybe Miguel presented you with your own way to escape. Spreading your arms and legs out as far as you could, you pressed yourself against the force field so you covered as much area as you possibly could. Then you waited.

About four minutes later, it happened. You glitched again but this time, you were ready for it. Using all the strength you could muster, you fought against the glitch and kept yourself pressed against the field. As your body began to flicker and change, so did the force field. When things finally corrected themselves and you were left moaning on the floor, you opened your eyes to see what was once your cage had been transformed into a pile of random junk from across the multiverse.  

Giving it a slight push, the pile collapsed and you walked out of the remains of your prison. You were free. Now, you just had to find a way off of Earth-928 and back into the multiverse to find Miles before Miguel did. And you thought you had an idea about where to start….

Thank you for reading, liking, commenting, and/or rebloging! I am planning a prequel to this fic showing how Miguel and Reader met and I may also do a sequel fic to this one. If you are interested, please let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! Thanks!

[ohthemis]

Hi! May i request a fanfic?? Where tot male leads are sick and mc is taking care of them, despite them saying they are fine and later on they starts acting clingy? Thank you so much! Stay safe :)

tot boys when they're sick

characters: all

a/n: ive been gone for centuries lol, sorry i got into a big school and underestimated the workload. finished this because i ditched my case study after a breakdown.

ARTEM WING

he just wants to work, so why won't you just let him work? "i'm fine, mc. i promise, so please, just give me some time to work in peace." he knows he's being snappy, and it isn't fair to you, who just wants to help him, but it's not like he's dying.

you come behind him and tenderly place your hands on his shoulders. "you're sick, artem. please rest?" he sighs, he's trying to understand you, after all he'd do the same for you, but he can't help the nagging feeling of annoyance pulling on his chest.

"mc, i really need you to get out of my office right now. okay?" he doesn't intend for his tone to be so sharp, so mean, but that's exactly how it comes out. you sigh and do as he says, not before giving him a soft kiss on his scalp.

artem then proceeds to go back to work, or at the very least, he tries to. he feels sick and he feels guilty. he reluctantly gets up and opens his office door, greeted by the sight of warm soup and some tea prepped up by his doorstep.

his legs move faster than his brain, and before he knows it, he's already wrapping his arms around you on the bed. he relishes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. 'it's good to be sick once in a while', he thinks.

MARIUS VON HAGEN

he playfully nudges you away, "i'm fiiiine." his voice is nasally and hoarse, and his skin is paling. you both know he's not fine. "marius, i'm serious right now. let's get you to bed." he refuses again, his hands still typing away on the laptop, despite your tugging on his sleeve.

you even go as far as to try and entice him to bed. "come on, i'll even join you." he grins at that. "tempting offer, but this needs to get done asap, mc." you sigh at his stubbornness. "marius, you look like you're at death's doorstep." but he doesn't budge.

eventually, you're left no choice but to make him some soup and resign yourself to the sofa behind him. you're tapping away on your phone when you feel it. the sofa dips beside you, and he drops his head into your lap.

"mc, my head hurts so bad. i think i'm dying." you roll your eyes but your fingers almost reflexively start to massage his forehead. "that's why i told you to get off your computer and come rest." he sighs into your stomach as your ministrations on his skin relieve him of some pain.

"mm, you're always right, mc. offer still up for the bed." you help him up on his feet. "yeah. but don't get any ideas. you're sick." he lays his head on your shoulder, "'m not that sick." he proceeds to collapse on the bed within seconds of laying down.

LUKE PEARCE

he's coughing his heart out and you're to your knees in worry for him. he, as always, assures you that it's nothing. in the morning, he tells you he was just choking on breakfast. now, he's telling you that he just swallowed wrong.

"luke, you're not fine. please just rest." you plead with him to the best of your abilities, but he refuses to budge. luke smiles at you reassuringly. "for what? just something in my throat is all." you sigh, knowing there isn't much you can do to argue with him.

he goes back to tinkering an old watch a client left for him to fix. you hear a sharp intake of breath and luke slowly turns around. you look up, and you nearly collapse yourself once you see the blood dripping from his nose, down to his shirt.

you're quickly standing next to him, panicking. luke calmly instructs you what to do, and you follow his words. your hands tremble as you tend to him, and he lets you lead him to the bedroom.

that night, he can barely sleep. he's tossing and turning, going between shivering cold and sweating hot. you spend the night kissing his tears away, brushing the damp strands of hair away from his forehead, and adjusting the ac as needed. he finally falls asleep during the early peaks of the morning, his hand tightly wrapped around yours.

VYN RICHTER

vyn is a stubborn man. you should be used to it by now. there's no point in arguing with him, especially when he's dead set on something. but you wish that he'd just listen to you this once. "vyn, you aren't fine. you're sniffling and clearing your throat ever five seconds." he repeats the same thing he told you five minutes ago.

"it's just a cold, don't worry too much about it." but what kind of cold has him staggering as he walks or refusing lunch because he just has no appetite? you come over and wrap your arms around him, a frown on your face. he kisses your jaw and goes back to his papers.

you try to tug on his shoulder gently. "please? just listen to me this once. please?" he signs something, before humming. he sighs and stands up from his seat. "alright. lead the way." you take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. you lay him down, and he thinks it's sweet how much you care for him.

he thinks it's sweet until he's on the brink of insanity because he feels absolutely sick and you're busy getting some medicine for him. "mc, just let me die, i need you here," he whines from the bedroom. you've heard the same thing in about 30 variations in 5 minutes.

once you get back with his pills, he practically inhales the drugs and latches onto you. he grabs you by the arm and pulls you in. "please stay," he asks, in a voice softer than you've ever heard from him. "you won't let me go anyway," you reply. he hums smugly.

[tonight-i-may-see]

Illicit Affairs (Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader)

[note: MORE ANGST UPON YE. also can u tell im on a tswift kick?]

cw: angst with a happy(?) ending, gn!reader, reader's gender isn't specified.

word count: 1k

Inspo: Illicit affairs - taylor swift & peace - taylor swift

“I have to go.” 

It was like clockwork. You'd meet, spend a few hours together, then he'd go and the next morning you'd have to look him in the eye at work like this wasn't breaking your heart.

This time, you decided to push things.

“Why? Who's waiting?” You ask, obviously pointing out the fact he wasn't married anymore and hadn't been for quite some time. The divorce had happened months before the first time the two of you did this routine, so why exactly was it he had to leave so soon?

He’s silent for a moment, then deeply exhales. “No one. But I don't have my go-bag if we get called.” 

A spark of irritation fizzles through you, so you push harder. “What, you can't go get it on the way?”. It's clear by his face he doesn't want to have this talk, and another sigh rolls out of his nose. It was typical really, he only ever wanted to have the good stuff with you, no discussions that might require actual use of his brain cells. To him, you were supposed to be easy, just a way to relax after work that he didn't have to stress over.

Of course, he was more than aware of how unfair that was- you were a human being with very real feelings, reciprocated ones, even. But after Haley he just wasn't ready to focus on anything but Jack and work…which was made difficult by the fact you were work. You were there every day, giving him that hurt puppy dog look that broke his heart a little every time he saw it. Those eyes only made him push you further away, though, so you'd resigned to only allowing them when you thought he wasn't looking (He could never take his eyes off you, though you had no idea that was the case.).

“Can we not do this tonight?” Aaron asks, and you’re startled by the weakness in his voice, by the tightness that was building to a crack. Looking up at him, you can see his eyes glisten in the lamp light, an even more startling reaction to your nagging questions.

“Are you-...are you crying?” You ask in a whisper, worry knitting your brow and bringing a frown to your lips. “Aaron, hey-” 

He tries to shy away, but you don’t let him for once. You pull him close and wipe his cheeks, still concerned about how out of nowhere this reaction is from him. “I just want you to stay, what’s going on?” 

It’s silent for a long while, you assume he’s collecting his thoughts and calming down, so you just keep one hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm to ground him. Five minutes pass before he can look you in the eye, and when he does your heart shatters. The tears just won’t stop. As he falls into your arms, you rub his back and try to push through the confusion at how fast things changed emotionally. “What is it, Aaron…? Honey?” You ask softly, moving so he can sit next to you on the bed.

“I wanna stay-” It’s a little difficult to make out with the tears and the fact he has his face pressed against your shoulder, but you hear it. “I wanna stay,” He repeats “But that makes it real.” 

Time slows, and the cogs start to turn in your head. Losing Haley twice over must’ve been the worst heartbreak he’d ever experienced, and she wasn’t in the field. You are. Sure, that means you’ve got each other’s backs, but it also meant your lives were on the line daily. Sure enough, he finishes your train of thought for you.

“I can’t lose you.” 

You don’t even try to say he won’t, because you know he might. Every time you step out of the bullpen and into the field there’s a target on your back, and you’d be a fool if you tried to ignore that. But was that really a reason to break each other's hearts?

“You might.” You say stiffly, running your fingers through the longest parts of his hair. “But if you keep this up, you’ll lose me too.”

It was something you wanted to let hang, so you did. One hand still running through his hair as you watched him process it…he was tired, you both were, the case you were on right now was one of the worst and was only devolving more. What would usually have been an irritating question with snide comments had become the final straw. Unwittingly, you’d broken him. Eventually, he looked up at you from where he was leaning, and your heart broke. He didn’t have to speak for you to know how he felt. 

“I know…I know it’s scary. I’m terrified.” His bottom lip trembles slightly, and you think about how you’d fight people tooth and nail to never have to see him so upset again, about how it gripped at your chest and stung your eyes every time you took in a breath. “But we can be scared together.”

There was no way to fix this, not alone, but therapy wasn’t something to bring up right now. Right now, the man in your arms clearly needed comfort and support, and that’s what you gave him. Hours pass with him half-cradled in your arms like a child, and eventually you wake up next to him, the pink light of a sunrise flushing his cheeks just like his own heartbreak had the night before. It was odd, seeing a man you knew to be so strong completely relying on you for stability, but at the same time it felt right. If Aaron needed a rock, that’s exactly what you’d be, there was no question he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. This wasn’t going to be easy, you’d have a lot of explaining to do to the team and your families, but you’d do it together.

Afraid, but in love without denial.

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (1)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 2.7K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language.

Notes: I'm so excited and so nervous to be posting this. It was originally going to be a one shot, but it got a little out of control and so I've decided to try and split it up into multiple parts.

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed!

------

He woke up feeling like his mouth had been stuffed with cotton balls and an ice pick had been taken to his head over and over and over again. The pain was blinding. The grimace on his face must show, because suddenly there was a squeeze to his hand and a soft voice by his ear. 

“Bradley?”

That’s him, he recognized, maybe taking a little bit longer than he should have to realize that fact.  

“Oh, Bradley. Can you open your eyes for me, honey?” 

His movements felt slow to him, delayed and lethargic and like he’s fighting against more g-forces than he ever has. It takes him a moment to pry his eyes open, but when he does, he immediately flinches and squeezes them shut again. 

“Shit, oh my god I’m sorry,” that voice speaks again. The pressure on his hand is released and he hears what must be the squeak of a chair being pushed back. A soft click sounds through the room, but it felt like another clink of the ice pick on his skull. It’s a little less bright beyond his eyelids now, though. In another moment, his hand is warm as it’s encased in another again. “Lights are off now.”  

It felt like a tremendous effort to open his eyes again, and the process is slow. As he came into consciousness a little more fully, he registered the pain in more than just his head. And oh, there was a lot of it. He tried to shift just the slightest bit and immediately regretted it. It felt like every centimeter of him hurt. God, even blinking hurts.

The room comes in and out of focus, and even when it mostly clears, there was a slight blur around the edges of his vision. He recognized enough to know he was in a hospital. The white walls, the iv running through the crook of his elbow, the continuous beep beep beep of the monitor on one side of the bed are a giveaway to that. 

“Baby, baby, hey, don’t try and move, okay?”

The voice on the other side of the bed must belong to whoever is holding his hand. Despite the request, he couldn’t help but slowly, slowly turn his head in that direction. The voice was captivating, melodic, almost, and he wanted to see who it belonged to. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus on you, but when they do, he’s blown away. 

“Wow,” he breathed out in awe, his voice scratchy and sore, “you’re beautiful.” 

The breathtaking woman holding his hand laughs, and the sound is beautiful, but then tears well in your eyes. He doesn’t like that, he decided. He’s confused as to why he cares as much as he does about that fact. “Please don’t cry.” 

“I’m sorry,” you responded as you wiped under your eyes, “it’s just so good to hear your voice and see those eyes, baby.” 

There’s something he’s missing. The nagging feeling in the back of his head tells him that it’s something important, vital, imperative to his very survival. He racked his brain to try and find what it was, but the pain was so severe and his vision was starting to go in and out again the more he tried to figure it out. God, what happened to him? 

“Let me call your doctor,” you insist, and you’re standing to press the button on his bed when he tries to speak through the pain again. 

“Are you…not my doctor?” 

His voice was low, but he knew you heard him by how your entire body froze and your watery eyes snapped to him. Tears were welling again, he noticed in his blurred vision, but the look you have in your eyes was different this time. 

He felt like he did something wrong. 

You pressed the call button over and over again, more times than is probably necessary, before sinking back into the chair that he was starting to think you’ve been in for a long time. It felt like your hand was holding onto his a little bit harder now. 

“Bradley…do you know who I am? Do you know my name?” 

The pain in his body was ricocheting through him so viciously that he felt he may throw up, but he tried to push through it and think anyway. It felt important. You felt important, but he couldn’t figure out why. And he couldn’t think of your name, either. It’s that feeling of being right there on the tip of his tongue, but it just wouldn’t come out. 

“I can’t remember. I’m sorry. Should I?” 

You gasped lightly and he doesn’t like that sound, either. Before he could try and apologize, for something he wasn’t completely clear on, the door to his room opened and suddenly there were way more than the two of you in the room. He’s surrounded by white coats and navy blue scrubs and your hand wasn’t in his anymore and he missed the feel of it. He flailed slightly, trying to find it once more, but you were being ushered to the back of the small hospital room and that doesn’t feel right, either. 

“No,” he muttered, not listening to any of the medical personnel asking him questions and poking and prodding at him. He just knew that he wanted you back beside him, looking like you did when he first woke up, not sad like you did now. 

Everything hurt. 

Someone was shining a light in his eyes and he was so overcome with it that he at first didn’t notice how everyone in the room stopped moving when he had been asked what year it is and he had said 2018. He answered again when they asked who the current President was and his date of birth. 

By the collective intake of breath throughout the room, it seemed the last one was the only one he got right. 

“Lieutenant Commander -”

“It’s just Lieutenant.” 

The doctor clicked his flashlight off and took a small step back, clearing his throat and contemplating his words before he spoke. “According to your official Navy file, you were promoted to Lieutenant Commander two years ago. And unfortunately, Lieutenant Commander, it’s no longer 2018. It’s 2022, sir.”

The beeping of his heart monitor was starting to quicken, and his own breathing was loud in his ears. 

The doctor started speaking again, but Bradley couldn’t hear him. There was a consistent buzzing in his head. He was starting to get unbelievably dizzy. He felt like he was going to be sick. Throughout it, his eyes were still on you. The tears were streaming freely now, no longer being pushed away in defiance, with your hands covering your mouth as you stared back at him like you were having a hard time seeing him. 

A shimmering caught his attention and for the first time, he noticed the ring on your left finger. The edges on his vision started to go dark, and as the possibility of what that meant hit him, he no longer felt or saw anything at all. 

_________

He had been unconscious for three days. 

A training accident, the doctor had told him, and a nasty ejection that involved not only slamming into the canopy, but into the plane itself. He was unconscious before he ever hit the ground, but his parachute had done its job on at least getting him there. More broken ribs than intact ones, a collapsed lung, more cuts and bruises to add to the regular collection, and a skull fracture and swelling on his brain that explained his massive headache and his apparent lack of memory. 

Four years of his life. 

Four. Years. 

Somehow, though, that wasn’t the most shocking thing he had heard since regaining consciousness. 

The woman in the room was his wife. You were his wife and he didn’t remember you. But he knew you. He knew that he knew you. He could feel it in his aching bones when he looked at you. 

It took a long time for the two of you to be alone again. A nurse had been in the room when he next woke up and the doctors quickly followed to explain all that had happened to him. He had almost immediately been rolled away for a variety of testing, poking and prodding. He wasn’t sure how long it took, but by the time he made it back to his room, there was no natural light filtering in through the windows anymore, and the ward itself was a little bit quieter. It must have been late.

You gave him the smallest of smiles from the chair next to his bed as the nurse who brought him back made sure all of his monitors were hooked up properly. She explained a few things to the both of you, seemingly unfazed to be sharing his medical information with someone he didn’t know. He supposed it didn’t matter, though. Because you’re his wife, and it’s your legal right to have this information. 

When Nurse Anne finally left, the two of you simply stared at one another. The air felt awkward, taught with unfamiliar tension. It settled over the room for a moment before you cleared your throat. He tried not to focus on how you were playing with the ring on your finger, twisting it around with your thumb.

“How are you -“

“I don’t know your name.” 

He didn’t mean to blurt out the words, especially when it cut off whatever you were about to ask him. But the thought has been going through his mind since you had asked him when he first woke up what must be hours ago now.

He had hoped for a revelation when you told him. Your name bounced around in his head, searching for something. But the only thing he found was disappointment when nothing hit him. 

He was tired and wanted to go to sleep. Even with the pain medication continuously dripping through the IV, his whole body hurt, but he couldn’t, now. He was desperate to speak to you. He wanted to make some sort of sense of this mess, but part of him, some part he was no longer familiar with, also just wanted to hear your voice again. 

“How…how long have we been married?”

“Three years,” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. It seemed that all he’d made you do since he woke up was cry. Bradley could tell that you were holding yourself together with all the strength you could muster. He admired you for that. You must have realized quickly that he was distracted or that the math was hurting his still aching head, so you followed up by explaining you had only been dating for four months before he proposed, and had been married by month six. 

Despite all the confusion and both the physical and mental hurt, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “You were crazy enough to say yes after four months?” 

You laughed, and oh, he thought, that’s a beautiful sound. 

“You definitely aren’t the first person to accuse me of that,” you revealed, though it didn’t come as much of a surprise because it made sense. Meeting and marrying in half a year was intimidating, and a bit insane in his eyes. He had always been slow to trust and even slower to love. He wondered about those first four months and what they must have been like to inspire him to propose, but instead of asking, he took the quiet that came over the room as an opportunity to just…look at you. There was an ache in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain as he does. 

Your hair was pulled back loosely at the base of your neck, more than a few pieces falling out of the hold the band had on it. You were in plain black leggings and an oversized Eagles sweatshirt that threatened to swallow you. In the back of his muddled mind, he questions if it was his, or if you maybe shared his enjoyment for the sport and team. Your skin was blotchy and your eyes were puffy from all the tears. 

You looked as exhausted as he felt, but you were still so, so beautiful. He doesn’t know if he’d ever seen anyone so beautiful, in fact. It was the first thing he had thought when he woke up the first time, and his opinion hadn’t changed. 

“This must be really overwhelming for you,” you said after a few minutes of silence. He could sense your nervousness rising and noticed how you were rubbing your rings again - he wondered if it was a tell of yours all the time. “I don’t - I don’t want to make that worse, so I - I can go, if you’d like me to.” 

“Go?” he questioned. Something that felt like panic flickered inside of him. He doesn’t think he likes that idea. 

“Yes. If you wanted to be alone. Or I could - I guess I could have someone else come stay with you?” You looked like you dreaded the idea of it, but he knew you would do it if it was what he wanted, and wasn’t that something? He had never had someone who would willingly put themselves through hurt if it made him feel better. Your last question raised one of his own, though, and he couldn’t help but ask. 

“Have you…been here the whole time?” 

“Of course,” you whispered with a nod. You leant forward in your chair like you were going to grab his hand but stopped yourself at the last second. You were still rubbing the rings on your left hand as you considered the words you were going to say. 

“I had to have my gallbladder removed last year,” you spoke again after a moment. His eyebrows furrowed, searching for a memory and coming up short. He didn’t know where you were going with this. “I was at home when I started getting these really bad pains. I would have thought it was my appendix, but I had that removed when I was a kid. After the pain didn’t go away I decided I should probably go to the hospital. I knew you were in the air that day so I left you a voicemail and sent you a text about what was happening. They had just put me in a room after running a few tests to figure out what was wrong when you came crashing in, demanding to talk to a doctor about what was wrong with me and then demanding to know why I wasn’t already in surgery if my gallbladder was so inflamed and infected that it was causing me as much pain as it was. I was in the hospital for less than 24 hours but you were there the whole time, holding my hand. Then you took time off work so that you could stay at home with me. For the first few days, if I did anything more than lift the tv remote or turn the page in my book, you were stopping me so that you could do it yourself. You were so worried about me.” 

He could feel it then. It was a strange sensation, really. He didn’t know you. His mind couldn’t produce any memories of you, but the thought of something happening to you, of something having happened to you, made him worry. He felt protective of you and you weren’t more than a stranger to him right now. 

“I say all this to say, Bradley, that if the roles were reversed, if I were the one in that hospital bed, I know exactly where you’d be, too. Because you have been. It doesn’t matter how big or small. I know you don’t remember but…that’s…that’s who we are, okay? There’s nowhere else I’d have been but right here by your side.” 

Your words hit him harder than he expected them to. He didn’t really know how to respond. He couldn’t make sense of all of this.  

“I think I want you to stay,” he whispered, almost afraid of the words. 

This time, you didn’t stop yourself from reaching out to him. You settled your hand over his and squeezed gently. And though you didn’t let your touch remain for more than a moment, the brief interaction spread warmth through the area. 

“Get some rest, sweetheart. We’ll talk more tomorrow.” 

-------------

Part Two :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: Thank you for reading! Your feedback is so important to me. Please let me know your thoughts and if you're interested in more of this being posted :)

[mothwingwritings]

Release

F!Reader X Ren Hana

Hello everyone!!! Back at it again with a new Boyfriend To Death fic ❤

I know what you might be saying. “Wow another BTD fic based around a collar, real original Moth” BUT in my defense I actually wrote this one before the story I wrote for Strade. My brain barfed this out a few months ago (when I finished playing through Ren’s route for the first time) but I wanted to make something Christmas-esque because it was December, so Strade’s story came out first.

Regardless, I had a lot of fun writing both, so I hope you enjoy them too! ❤

Though there is nothing overtly sexual in this, due to the subject nature of this fic this story is 18+ ONLY please!!!

Warnings: imprisonment, abuse (physical and mental), reader has some extreme Stockholm syndrome going on, incredibly unhealthy relationship, biting, blood, reader gets hurt, mentions of sex, I guess maybe petplay potentially??? (what with the collar and all).

Thank you for reading!

“Okay… You promise you’ll be a good girl, right? No funny business?”

Despite being perched on soft carpet, your legs ached from kneeling on them for the past half hour. You kept your back pin straight and your shoulders even, your hands neatly folded in your lap. His voice was cheery as he spoke down to you, playful even, but you knew Ren well enough to know that these next moments were crucial. With him, even the most benign moments could turn at the drop of a hat.

“I promise Ren. I’ll be good.”

Your voice was soft as you responded to him, big doe eyes looking up at the beastkin in expectation. Your promise wasn’t a lie- you always intended to be good for him, striving to do so even when the situation made that nearly impossible. You bit your bottom lip apprehensively, a slight shiver wracking Ren’s body when you did so. He was watching you just as closely as you were him, drinking in your form, honing in on each and every move of your body and change of expression. 

He smiled at you, that sad half smile he always got when he was grappling with his inner emotions. “I know you will. You are always good for me… To me…” He hesitated for a moment, staring with trepidation at the key that lay in his hand. It was no bigger than his pinky, but seemed to weigh him down regardless.

“I’m just, um, nervous I guess. But I’m not sure why? It’s not like taking it off is gonna change anything,” Though he laughed to dispel the tension, it had the opposite effect, his nerves palpable as he fidgeted where he stood.

For a moment you thought he was going to go back on his word. Tell you to forget about it and toss the shock collar’s key aside, leaving you stuck in it for another day. Part of you wondered if that would even matter. Ren was right, nothing truly would change, collar or not.

… But still, you couldn’t help but hope. That cruel, nagging feeling swelled up in your heart, making your breath hitch in anticipation. Your heart beat like a drum in your chest and sweat slicked your brow as you watched him nervously turn the key around in his palm, your fate in his hands as he mulled the decision over.

It had been months now that the collar had been around your neck, heavy and overbearing, a constant, torturous reminder of your new life. He had only allowed it to come off in brief intervals when you showered or when you slept so that you could find some comfort as you laid next to him, caged in by his embrace. Otherwise it wrapped around your neck like a noose, and even though these days its intended purpose was hardly necessary, Ren kept it firmly in place. He was too afraid to keep it off you for long, worried that given the choice you would abandon him too.

But you wouldn’t. For better or worse, whatever twisted feelings Ren had harbored for you, you now shared for him-all of his ardent affections reciprocated. Deep inside you knew this all was wrong, and it would be a blatant lie if you said you no longer felt any fear or sadness over all that had transpired (all that continues to transpire) while he held you in captivity. Even so, none of that dulled the fact that at this point you craved his touch, yearned for his smile, and wanted nothing more than his companionship and love to get you through the lonely struggle life had become.

After spending months with him as your only companion, you had grown to care deeply for Ren. Though the experience was often terrifying and confusing, you had learned to place your trust in him as he watched over you the past half year, relying on him for all your needs and necessities. The more time you spent together, the more you learned about him. And the more you learned, the more you began to open up to him. 

After a certain point, love began to blossom.

That feeling flourished within, growing so unruly that even his moments of torment and cruelty were accepted with open arms. It took you awhile to realize it, but you now understand that everything Ren does he does for your benefit. Whether he was treating you like a princess or teaching you a harsh lesson, Ren did everything in his power to make sure you were cared for, protected, and aware. Life wasn’t always fair and kind, it was better to be taught that at the hands of someone who loved you then to experience it unexpectedly out in the wild.

Looking back on it now, you were a fool not to appreciate him sooner. All the fussing and fighting you did when he first brought you home seemed completely ridiculous now. He took you in, let you live in a nice home, prepared you home cooked meals every day, and lavished you in affection even when you were being stubborn and didn’t deserve it.

For all that he is and all that he has done for you- the good and bad alike- he deserved nothing but your wholehearted devotion in return. Thinking about the past made you cringe but you refused to let yourself get caught up in it, doing your best every day to be good for him and make up for your prior indiscretions. He loved you with all that he is, poured his soul into caring for you and keeping you content. No past lover had ever treated you with the loyalty or attention that Ren had, and you were thankful for that.

 His happiness had become your happiness. To risk the life you had built together by taking advantage of his kindness was unthinkable.

But even with your steadfast dedication to him, he still continued to mull over this decision with a deep scowl plastered on his face. An ache blossomed in your chest. Surely he had to realize by now that he was just as precious to you as you were to him? You pouted a bit as you watched him agonize over the situation, your heart hurting to see him have such a lack of faith in your bond.

“… Ren?”                                                                                    

Your questioning voice caught his attention, dragging his focus away from the key he was clutching in his sweaty grip. The moment you had grabbed his attention, you slowly began scooting closer to him, your knees itching as they scratched against the fibers of the fancy carpet. Once you neared him, you raised your hands till they cupped his, gently enveloping his shaky fist in your warm hold. You pulled his hand towards your mouth, delicately kissing each of his fingers as you stared up into his eyes.

“If you don’t want to take it off, you don’t have to,” you smiled at him genuinely, your lips lingering on his thumb before you pulled away. You felt a shiver pass through him as his eyes grew hazy, boring into yours with growing intensity, “I can tell it’s making you uncomfortable, so it’s OK. I am not upset, we can keep it on another day-“

“No.”

Your eyes widened at the assuredness in his voice, all previous concern nonexistent. “No… It’s time to take it off. It’s only getting in the way at this point. Just… Gimme a second, OK?”

He positioned himself behind you, nervous hands fumbling as he worked to remove the collar. After several seconds of poking and prodding, a loud ‘click’ came from the back of your neck followed by a small thud as the heavy collar fell from your body, colliding with the carpeted floor.

Your hand’s shot up to touch your exposed skin, a shiver coursing through you as the cold air hit your sweaty flesh. Tears began to well in your eyes as the realization donned on you. You were free. You had been a good girl for Ren and he rewarded you for it, just like you knew he would.

“W-well,” you heard Ren stutter above you, clearly a bit nervous about what may happen next, “What do you think? How does it feel?”

“It feels amazing,” your voice warbled as you still got used to the sensation. Its absence was foreign and exciting and you couldn’t help but break out in a huge, elated grin. “Thank you Ren. Thank you so much.”

He lowered himself in front of you, crouching on his knees. “Can I see?” A hint of worry still remained in his timid voice, fearful that you may still end up rejecting him.

You looked to him with a smile and nodded, baring your neck for him to witness. “Of course! I probably look a little bit different without it on, huh?”

“Pretty…” His voice was breathless as he dragged his fingers gingerly across the freed skin of your neck. His pupils dilating slightly as he felt you shudder under his touch. “So, so pretty… But also, a little barren, don’t you think?”

Your breath caught at the insinuation, a small wave of panic causing your body to tense. Did he regret his decision after all? Was he going to put the collar back on? You had told him it was fine if he decided that, and you weren’t someone who went back on their word, but at the same time… that was before you experienced it. Now that you realized how good it felt without that horrible, weighty reminder clinging to your skin, you dreaded the thought of it attached to your body once more.

An airy chuckle fell from his lips as he noted your reaction. He leaned in closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek as he brought his mouth close to your ear.

“Don’t worry pumpkin, I’m not going to put it back on. But I do hate the idea of you walking around without something on your body to signify that you’re mine, you know?” His caress traveled from your cheek, his right hand snaking around your head to cradle it, pulling you closer to him. His free hand wrapped around your waist, which kept you flush against him.

“I want to give you something better than that collar,” his voice had become strained, lithe fingers curling up to entangle in your hair, tugging roughly on the strands at the base of your neck. “I want you to have something personal, something that will look perfect on you.”

Without another word, he latched himself to your neck. Not in a kiss, but a harsh, powerful bite.

You gasped as his sharp incisors dug themselves into your flesh, a wave of pain causing tears to flood your eyes. You pressed your fists against his chest, biting down on your trembling bottom lip in an effort to hold back your cries.

Warm blood trickled from the wound as he detached himself, a vibrant trail snaking from the puncture wound to slither down your neck. His tongue stopped it before it hit your collar bone, leaving a wet, sloppy streak across your neck as he licked up the mess.

“This is much better, right?” He asked tentatively, his fingers traveling down to trace the wound he had inflicted. Blood coated his fingertips as he ran them over the injury, his breath hitching as he smeared you with crimson, “prettier… you are so pretty, (name)…”

“T-thank you Ren,” you flinched at the movement of his fingers, shuddering as he pressed down on the open wound, “It’s much better.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, pivoting your head slightly so that he could nuzzle into the unmarred side, “but it’s not perfect yet, there needs to be more.”

Another abrupt bite sunk into your flesh. This time you couldn’t help but cry out, blubbery whimpers tumbling from your quivering lips. You felt Ren shiver against you, your reactions eliciting an excited moan from him that was muffled by your flesh in his jaw. The hold his teeth had on you eventually yielded, but the assault of his mouth did not. Feverish kisses pressed against the new wound, his tongue lapping at the blood as it muscled its way across the puncture. You whined at the sensation, waves of pain emanating from the weeping, gory wounds as he continued to aggravate them.

When he finally pulled away tears had already begun to fall freely down your cheeks. Though he had given your neck a much needed break, you were given no time to collect yourself as he proceeded in pressing his lips firmly to yours. The taste of copper flooded your tongue as he deepened the kiss, forcibly pushing himself against you until you had no choice but to lean backwards, your back falling flat against the floor as he crawled overtop you.

He placed his hands on either side of you, his legs straddling your hips as he sat himself atop you. You were effectively caged in when his lips parted from your own, and though his face was obscured in shadows, you could clearly see a swath of your blood spread across his mouth. It perfectly complimented the animalistic hunger in his eyes, his mischievous fox like features seeming far more sinister than normal as he leered down at you.

If you didn’t know any better, you would fear he was going to eat you alive.

“I want to mark you in all kinds of ways, (Name),” His tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip, a sliver of pink peeking through the red, “I want to mark you to show you how much I love you. I want you to be able to look at every inch of your body and be reminded of me. That way even if we get separated, you won’t be lonely. You’ll have a constant reminder of how much I love you.”

A serene smile spread across his face as he looked at you, the vibrancy of his blush nearly matching the blood that coated his mouth and chin. He shifted a bit above you, the feel of his hardening cock unmistakable as it pressed against your pelvis.

“I love you,” his voice wavered as he leaned closer towards you, unsteady breaths fanning your face as his lovesick eyes drank you in. His lips were teasingly close to yours as he continued to smile down at you, a small, happy laugh tumbling from his lips as his tail began to swish behind him in excitement.

“I’m so glad I made you mine.”

[adventuringblind]

Deserving

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Summary: while she falls into the pit of her mind, Charles is there to pull her out.

Warnings: mentioned self-harm, anxiety, toxic media, mentions of addiction

Notes: A Nonny request, I hope you like it!! This one is definitely an insight into how my brain works.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Everyone says rookie years are the hardest. Which, she won't say everyone is wrong, just that she also had consistently bad years. They blend into each other now. A never-ending cycle of the same lame excuses as to why she's so downcast.

She's a rookie driver and having a pretty decent season. Logan and Oscar are two of her closest friends. She's dating Charles Leclerc of all people.

So why is that piece of her brain still nagging at her? Years of therapy and help hasn't done the trick. The stinging still pushes through to the front of her mind.

The habit started so young. It was a distraction from the pain of whatever she'd been going through at the time. A means to satisfy her the voices in her head. Now it's to remind her she's still alive. That the media hasn't shattered her already frail will to live quite yet.

Everything in her wants to just... stop. Everyday she's reminded that her place is somewhere else. Not in the car, not with Charles, not even on the planet.

It doesn't matter that she's having a good year, that the car is good, or that she has people who love her. The voices always come back in those dark hours when she's alone.

She staggered herself in the beginning. Enough that her physio wasn't catching on. She lived in Charles' hoodies, and he thought nothing of it. Just another source of comfort.

He'd seen the faded scars, asked her about it every occasionally. He never pushes her to talk about it.

She doesn't deserve Charles, or anyone for that matter. Mentors, family, friends, they are all to wonderful for her to drag them down into her misery. The constant pity party she throws herself has no guests, only her and her demons.

Redbull isn't the best environment for someone as fragile as her. Despite the boosts of confidence Christian gives her daily and the constant reassurance from Max, she doesn't feel like she deserves it. The media is eating her alive. The next teammate to be crucified to Redbull and Mad Max.

It's starting to become noticeable again. The lack of sleep and covering clothes. Charles is skeptical and keeps reassuring her she can talk to him.

If she does that, he'll leave. Her mind can't take being alone yet.

Max is the first to catch sight of the new lines adorning her wrist. He asks if she's alright, but again, nobody pushes for more. Maybe if they did, she would break. Her fragile walls would come tumbling down.

Oscar is the next to push. A good friend of hers and they've both had good seasons. He and Logan show up one night with comfort food and cards. It manages to make her smile like when they were younger.

But they have to leave eventually. The voices swallow her whole the second she's alone again.

Charles finally pushes for answers. He finds her alone, body slumped along the hotel bathroom wall. She's exhausted, but manages to give a crooked, tired smile.

He crouches down in front of her and looks at the fresh line on her thighs. Bandages are something she has readily available, and Charles knows exactly where to find them.

He works quietly, just humming softly as he patches her up. It's a classical song that he listens enough that she knows the tune but not the name.

Charles dresses her into comfy clothes and tucks her into bed. A hand plays with her hair and strokes her cheek.

She doesn't deserve him.

"Tell me what's eating away at you, chéri. Please, I hate that you won't talk to me."

She scoots her body closer to Charles so she doesn't have to see his face. "Just hard - I guess."

"It's okay to have hard days. It's okay that you feel the way you do. But this thing, hurting yourself, is not the way to make it better."

"I know that, Charlie!" Her voice cracks at saying his name. "I just can't help it."

Those fragile walls she has come tumbling down. The pit of despair finally swallows her, and she can't stop the tears.

It hurts. Her head, her heart, her bones, it all hurts. She falls and shatters, but Charles is here to put the pieces back together.

"I don't deserve you. You're everything people love, and I don't want to drag you down with me."

"Who put that idea in your head?"

"The voices," She sniffles. Her words muffled when Charles pulls her into his chest.

"Well, the voices are incorrect. I, of all people, know what it's like for the media to pick you a part. Whether it's appearances, my driving, my relationships, they will always find something." Charles pulls her back just a bit, enough for him to make eye contact. She hates how his eyes are as glassy as hers. "You don't have to suffer all alone, in silence. You have people around you that understand and want to help. None of us are asking for perfection. We - I - don't want to see you hurting so much."

"What if it's too much?"

"Then we figure it out together."

She falls asleep in Charles' arms. Tears soak into everything, but he doesn't tell her to move. He comforts, because Charles loves her.

She has people who want to be there for her. Yes, slips happen, healing is never straightforward, but she can try. She can lean on Charles, let him love her; let him be the steady rock she needs in her life.

"Progress chéri, not perfection."

"You sound like all team principles."

"And? It's a good saying!"

Charles pulls a laugh out of her. A genuine laugh at something that isn't even funny. She blames her love for him.

"Maybe I do deserve you."

"If this is an insult, I'm taking all the covers tonight."

[killerpancakeburger]

Attending a wizards soiree with Rolan headcanons - Angst Version

Rolan is about to ask you to come with him when he stumbles upon you and one of your warlock/wizard/sorcerer (pick wattya want) friend asking you to come with him to said soiree.

Didn’t mean to listen to the conversation. Does it anyway when he realises what it's about/that he's been beaten to it.

Your nonchalant, sardonic reply breaks his heart a bit. "Why would I go to that stuck-ups gathering? It's going to be full of pompous jerks who like to listen to themselves talk all night. Hard pass." With a derisive laugh.

He goes back the way he came from, face unscrutable, resolutely determined to not mention it at all to you.

You notice his change of attitude - he's colder, less patient, snaps more easily - in the next days but despite racking your brain about it, you don't get where this is from. 

The evening of the event, he disappears and you go to his siblings for information. Awkward conversation ensues. 

"Have you seen Rolan?" "Well he's at his beloved wizards gathering obviously" "... what gathering?" "...you mean he didn’t tell you?" "Tell me what??" Cal and Lia exchange anxious, embarassed looks. Your worry and apprehension boil over. "What is it!?”

Once you wring the truth out of them, you pause for a moment, before remembering your conversation with your friend, and everything brutally makes sense. Welp, time to fix this mess.

You find a fancy outfit in a hurry and rush to the soiree in a panic, while still trying to look dignified.

You get pushed back at the entrance. Invitations only. You try your best to not cause a scene but it ends with the guard and you raising your voices high enough to be heard from the guests. You're considering knocking them out until Rolan shows up.

Of course he recognized your voice from afar. It's not like he had been spending the whole evening trying to keep you out of his mind. To no avail.

"They're with me." Crisis averted. Well, for now. You're in like you wanted but now it's time to face the music. Despite coming to your rescue, Rolan does not look happy.

"Why are you even here?" are the first words crossing his lips. His features are twisted in a scowl. Being familiar with his temper, you can tell that he's restraining himself from yelling.

You have to rein in your first instinct which is to snap back "Why do you think!?". Aggravating the situation is not why you came. You afford yourself the luxury of taking a deep breath to compose yourself.

"I came for you, of course." You stare directly into Rolan's gleaming eyes as you say those words, trying to convey your sincerity and your feelings through your gaze.

Rolan crosses his arms, still frowning. "Far be it from me to suggest you should waste your evening by spending it listening to pompous jerks who love the sound of their own voices."

You put your hands on your waist and raise a dubious eyebrow. "Come on Rolan, I was deliberately exaggerating to make my friend laugh. Surely you figured that out. Plus I distinctly remember all the times you complained about the wizards you interacted with, and how they drove you crazy with their contempt and their egoism."

The frown on his forehead progressively disappears, but his gaze becomes shifty, avoiding yours. "I... I suppose I fail to comprehend why you would have accepted my proposal when you declined his."

You open your eyes wide in suprise, then your shock makes way for understanding. "Oh, Rolan." you sigh with both endearment and annoyance, a fond smile stretching your lips.

"What", he retorts, crossing his arms again, but in a different way than earlier, akin to sulking. A light blush adorns his cheeks. He knows that smile of yours, and that tone. You're about to say something sappy.

You close the gap between the two of you, tenderly cupping his face with your hands - he makes no move to stop you. "Rolan, rolan, rolan. Is it so hard to believe that I would endure hours of nagging, self-important wizards just to make you happy? Just to spend time with you? I defied shadows in a cursed land to save your tail, I braved the army of an immortal man to free your family, and I slaughtered the so-called greatest wizard of the Sword Coast for daring to lay a hand on you, and you think I'm scared of a soiree?"

He closes his hands around your wrists, not to repel you, no, but to gain more contact with your skin. He's able to look you into the eye again. "I suppose... it does sound foolish when you put it this way."

At last, you both join the function, but not before you first reclaimed a kiss or two from Rolan, to make up for his coldness the last few days.

[junrenjun]

Burn

omega!minghao x beta!reader x alpha!mingyu (part of my understand series)

genre: fluff, smut (18+ please!), angst for 2.2 seconds

wc: 3.2k

warnings: fem reader, smut and suggestive material throughout, unprotected sex (have safe sex plz), threesome lol, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, very heavy member x member in this (don't like, don't read)

summary: minghao is finally ready to let y/n help with his heat.

a/n: this is basically porn with plot lol. @straykidsstanforeverandever requested this so enjoy :) also minghao will get his own standalone fic eventually. this is not his only feature in this series. oh and mingyu is a consent king ofc.

Minghao is antsy. That’s the best way he can put it. Preheat is, in his opinion, the worst part of his heat. There’s a constant nagging feeling that he gets. Like bugs under his skin. Or like someone is watching him but he can’t see them. Unsettling and it never goes away. It drives him batty every time.

Right now, he thinks, it’s driving Mingyu batty more than himself. The man in question is sitting on Jihoon’s bed, watching as Minghao paces around his nest once more. He tries his best to ignore the quizzical looks the alpha keeps sending his way, but to no avail. Eventually, he exasperatedly turns to him, hands on his hips, and asks, “what do you want?”

Mingyu has been the omega’s heat partner for far too long to even flinch at his tone. Instead, he sits further up in the bed and cocks his head at the man. “Are you sure it’s just preheat? You look stressed.”

He melts at the alpha’s soft tone, instincts dying down a bit when he realizes he doesn’t need to put up a fight. “I don’t know, Gyu. My brain keeps telling me that something is missing from my nest, but I can’t figure out what. I’m not sure if something is actually missing or I’m just paranoid.”

At these words, Mingyu gestures for the omega to come join him by the other bed and he does so, stopping to stand between his legs. The alpha runs his hands up Minghao’s legs and side, then intertwines their fingers. He looks up at his mate and says quietly, “are you sure it’s something and not someone?”

Minghao closes his eyes and lets his mind wander. He and Mingyu have talked about this already. Inviting you in to help with his heat. He wants it. He really does. But some little voice in the back of his brain screams at him, warning him that it’s not a good idea.

It’s stupid. He knows you aren’t a threat and would never do something to hurt him. But an omega’s self preservation instinct, especially while in heat, is quite strong. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been an official member of the pack, his brain is flashing warning signs at him and screaming “stranger.”

He doesn’t even realize he’s trembling until Mingyu’s hands wrap around his waist to steady him. His eyes flutter back open to look at the alpha beneath him, who whispers, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to Hao.”

The omega simply hums in response, raising a hand to brush a strand of hair out of Mingyu’s face. This time, it’s the alpha who closes his eyes. He leans into the touch as Minghao drags the hand down his face. 

A low rumble leaves Mingyu’s chest. He looks up when he hears the omega let out a small gasp. Minghao has his head thrown back and his chest is heaving a little bit. The alpha smirks a little bit at his reaction. 

“Don’t do that”, Minghao says breathlessly. “You’re going to make it come faster.”

He regretted the words the second they came out of his mouth. When he looks down, Mingyu’s smirk is miles wide. “I know a thing or two about making things come fast.”

The alpha receives a well-deserved slap on the arm. But it doesn’t stop him from scooping Minghao up before he has a chance to berate him for his lewd words. “C’mon omega”, he tells him, “let’s find y/n while you still have brain cells left.” The omega in question lets out a muffled, “hey,” from where his mouth is pressed up against Mingyu’s shoulder.

Minutes later, Mingyu deposits him in a lump on your bed. You raise an eyebrow at him, but don’t get a chance to ask any questions, because Minghao practically tackles you. Once sufficiently on top of you, he shoves his face into your neck, nose against your scent gland, and takes a giant whiff. Within seconds, he’s melting against you and you’re left with an omega shaped blob weighing you down.

You reach down to touch the back of your hand to his forehead, frowning when you feel that he’s starting to heat up already. “You feeling it already, Hao?” you ask him.

He doesn’t directly respond to your question, pulling back for a second and then shoving his nose even further into your gland. His comment is stifled a bit from your skin, but you can still make out the words. “I swear they put crack in your pheromones or something.”

Both you and Mingyu laugh at this. However, you abruptly stop when Minghao raises his head to look at you with tears in his eyes. “Why are you guys laughing at me?” he pouts.

You’re quick to calm him down, extending a hand to brush away a stray tear. “Oh honey. We’re sorry. Preheat emotions suck don’t they?” He sniffles but still nods at you. 

After he takes a minute to compose himself, you speak again. “Why don’t you ask Mingyu to bring you back to your nest, hm?”

All of a sudden, the omega looks panicked, glancing back at the man sitting at the foot of the bed. You’re not sure what you did wrong, but Mingyu speaks, cutting off your train of thought. “I think Hao wants to ask you something first.”

Minghao looks up at you sheepishly, toying with the sleeve of your shirt absentmindedly. After a long pause, he looks up at you from under his eyelashes and says, “will you help with my heat?”

The question renders you speechless for a moment. You’ve been told Minghao is a bit…picky about who he spends his heat with. You know he and Mingyu have been heat partners for years now, and barely anyone else helps now that they have a system down. Only when Mingyu starts to get exhausted does Jun take over. Most of the time, he doesn’t let anyone other than the two alphas and Jeonghan get near his nest in the throes of heat. 

A part of you is silently cheering. Minghao’s instincts are finally accepting you as a true pack member if he trusts you in his most vulnerable moments. But another part of you is terrified. You really can’t mess this up. 

He must pick up on your apprehension through your scent, because in seconds, he’s throwing himself off you and into Mingyu’s lap. The alpha looks up at you apologetically as Minghao sobs into his shoulder. “She hasn’t even said anything yet, give her a second,” he tells the omega.

The scene is enough to convince you to say yes. You let your scent even out for a minute before reaching out to brush your hand lightly over Minghao’s ankle. Once his sobs die down a bit, you say, “I’ll help you Hao. I’ll be there as long as you need me.”

His scent takes such an abrupt turn it almost burns. You may need to apply some scent neutralizing lotion beneath your nose if this is how strong it’s going to be the whole time. You don’t have enough time to think about that though, because he’s grabbing your arm and pulling you out of bed, with a soft mutter of “nest.”

He drags you to his room, Mingyu trailing not far behind you both. Once inside, he points to his bed and repeats “nest.” You follow the omega’s instructions and climb into the center of the nest. Then, he turns to Mingyu and tells him the same thing. After both of you are comfortably sat in the nest, he fusses over the sides, effectively tucking you in. 

Once he’s satisfied with his work, Minghao crawls into the empty space between you two. A soft keen leaves his mouth and Mingyu chuckles. “Nest is complete now?” he asks. The omega is too busy releasing happy pheromones to respond. 

The comfort of his nest, combined with the exhaustion of preheat must finally take ahold of him. Fifteen minutes later, he’s sleeping soundly, his face tucked into your shoulder. Mingyu’s arms are tucked around his waist, and the alpha peeks over him to look at you. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, y/n,” he whispers.

You offer him a small smile back, trying to not disturb the sleeping omega beneath you. “I know. I want to though,” you tell him. 

You wake up in the early hours of the morning, the sun barely peeking through the window. While you aren’t really a morning person, a heat-ridden Minghao clearly is. His heat has come in full force over the course of the night, if the way he’s rutting against your thigh is any sign. 

When you look up at him, his eyes are squeezed shut and there’s a sheen of sweat covering his face. And the smell. God the smell. His usual lily scent is heavy, almost sticky in the air. It has a fruiter tinge to it though, something you can’t quite place.

A low moan startles you out of your thoughts. Minghao’s eyes have fluttered open and his mouth hangs open, panting. Without a word, you jut your leg out even farther, giving him a bigger surface to grind on. 

It clearly helps, because his eyes roll to the back of his head again as his hips move faster. Then, without warning, he leans down and shoves his face into your scent gland. Immediately, he starts sucking at it, leaving you breathless. The more his pace increases on your leg, the harder he sucks. His teeth scrape at your sensitive gland and you release a sharp gasp.

The commotion must wake Mingyu, because he shuffles around on the other side of the bed. He glances over at you two and runs a finger down Minghao’s spine. With that morning voice you love so much, he tells him, “easy on her Myungho. She’s not used to you yet.”

His words and actions have the omega shivering and pulling back. Your gland pulses uncomfortably at the lack of attention. You ignore it though, electing to reach around and pull lightly at the hair on the back of his neck. He whines. “Yeah?” you ask him teasingly. 

Mingyu chuckles from across the bed. You took that one out of his book. He leans down and whispers into Minghao’s ear. “You gonna come for our beta?” 

The omega nods furiously and he takes it as a sign to continue. “Yeah? Feel good spreading your slick all over her thigh? Tell her how good she’s making you feel.”

You can feel the wet patch slowly spreading across your pants. Something deep inside you twists at this, making you itch for your own release. It twists even further when he slurs, “so good. Making me feel so good beta.” 

You tug a little more on the strands of hair tucked in your hand and it’s the last straw for Minghao. His orgasm comes washing over him and he buries his face in your neck once more. The wetness on your leg increases exponentially and he makes a mess of it as his grinding begins to slow down. 

You flinch a little bit when he murmurs into your gland, the vibrations tickling your sensitive skin. “I’m gross now,” he says.

Mingyu wraps his arms around the omega’s waist, kissing the back of his head where your hand just untangled from his hair. “Mm a little bit. Nothing a bath can’t fix right?” he asks. 

A contented sigh leaves the man in your arms. You give him a little peck of your own, right on his forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up honey,” you mumble, prompting him to sit up. 

Once he’s successfully out of bed, Mingyu leads him to the bathroom, leaving you to change and collect some supplies for the day ahead of you. After a quick pit stop at your room, you head to the kitchen. As you refill some water bottles, you feel hands rest lightly on your waist and a nose tickle the back of your neck. “Hannie,” you acknowledge.

His nose presses even deeper into your skin. “You smell like Minghao,” he mumbles softly. “Is he in heat already?”

“Mhm,” you hum as he spins you around in his arms. Almost dropping the now full water bottle in your hands, you scowl at him a bit. “Don’t make me drop my omega’s water.”

He looks at you questioningly. “Your omega, huh?” He waits for you to respond, but all you do is nod. “You gonna take care of your omega’s heat for me? Make me a happy pack omega hm?” 

He’s such a little shit. But you’re too preoccupied with the fact that you just called Minghao your omega to even remotely care. That’s something to unpack later. Instead you screw the lid back on the bottle and grab the snacks you’ve prepared. “Yes Hannie,” you utter, and dart out of his arms, back to Minghao’s room.

Jeonghan watches you go and a familiar chuckle rings in his ears. When he turns, Seungcheol is standing there, clearly amused with the conversation that was just had. Jeonghan rolls his eyes at him. “You,” he says, pressing his index finger into the alpha’s chest, “are where she gets the possessiveness from.” 

They think they’re being sneaky, but you can still hear them from down the hall. And looking back at your past experiences with Seunghceol, you come to realize that he probably is where your possessive streak is coming from. And the fact that you’ve spent the last few hours with an omega in heat, but that’s not important. 

When you return to the room, the pair is curled up in the nest. Minghao seems slightly relieved. Less desperate and eager to simply relax. Mingyu is snoozing next to him. You deposit your supplies on the nightstand and crawl in to join them. 

Minghao immediately curls himself into your side. “Was thinking about you my entire bath,” he whispers, thumb stroking the skin that’s visible where your shirt had ridden up. You raise your hand to test his temperature again. When it makes contact with his forehead, he twists to lightly kiss the gland on your wrist. “Wanna make you feel good,” he breathes out.

The statement kind of surprises you. “Aren’t you supposed to be the one being taken care of right now?” you ask him, eyebrow quirked. 

“Letting me eat your pussy is taking care of me.” You nearly gape at him when he says this. Such dirty words and for Xu Minghao of all people to say them? You might combust right here and now. 

And combust you do, because minutes later, he’s got his face shoved between your legs and is eating you like his last meal. Your moans have awakened Mingyu, who, at first, elected to watch. But after a little whining from the omega, he’s mounted Minghao from behind. 

You’re embarrassingly close within the first few minutes. There’s so much going on. The sound of skin against skin. Mingyu’s breathy groans. Minghao’s tongue teasing you softly. The feeling of his hair in your hand. All three of your scents blending beautifully in the air. But the kicker is when Mingyu gives a particularly hard thrust, causing Minghao to lightly scrape his teeth along your clit. 

Your nerves feel like they are on fire. Your eyes roll back as your thighs tighten around the omega’s head, who whimpers in response. He grabs your hand and strokes it softly, coaxing you down from your high. When you finally come to, Mingyu is singing his praises to Minghao. “...a good omega, making our beta come like that. I think you deserve a reward for that. How about a knot, hm?”

The mere mention of a knot seems like it kicks Minghao into overdrive. “Please, please, please alpha! Wanna knot so bad!” He pushes his hips back furiously, like it’s going to make MIngyu’s knot pop any faster. It doesn’t, but it at least satisfies him for a moment. 

In the meantime, you reach over to grab a towel from the nightstand, bringing it down to wipe off his face. He whines, something about losing your scent, but still mumbles out a, “thank you.” 

Mingyu picks up his pace, a clear sign that he’s going to knot soon. The second his base swells enough to catch on Minghao’s opening, the omega is keening. He reaches out to grab onto your thigh, then sinks his teeth right into the soft skin. You gasp, not prepared for the sudden bite. His orgasm washes over him hard and it seems Mingyu’s does too. 

After a minute of heavy breathing, he releases his jaws and lets go of your thigh, looking up at you sheepishly. Mingyu, who still has his head thrown back, his chest heaving up and down, mutters, “sorry, I should’ve warned you that he’s a biter.”

“It’s okay,” you respond. “It felt good, it just surprised me that’s all.” You reach down to pet Minghao’s hair a bit more, giving him a little bit more comfort. 

“...’m full,” is all the omega can manage to get out. 

The alpha reaches down to run a hand along his back. “Yeah, alpha made you nice and full. Let’s get you into a more comfortable position, okay?” he coos at him.

You shift closer to the outside of the bed so that he can pull himself and the omega down into a seated position next to you. Mingyu leans against the headboard, pulling Minghao down so his back presses against his chest. The omega whines a bit at the shifting, knot tugging uncomfortably at his entrance the more they move. 

You give them both their own water bottles and offer a snack. Mingyu takes the protein bar quickly, but it takes a little coaxing (and hand feeding) to get Minghao to eat anything. 

After a few minutes of blissful silence, the omega murmurs, “you feel bigger today Gyu. I don’t think your knot has gone down at all yet.” 

The alpha grunts in response and shifts uncomfortably, making Minghao squirm. “Yeah well I’m tied to an omega in heat and I’ve got a really hot beta sitting naked in bed next to me. Can’t help it if I’m a little excited.” 

You can’t help but preen a little bit at his statement. You. The hot beta is you. But you’re quickly distracted by Minghao, who moans when Mingyu shifts again. The alpha peers down and sees that Minghao’s cock is getting hard again. “We’re still tied together baby,” he tells him. “I can’t do anything for you right now, but maybe if you ask your beta nicely, she’ll ride you while I’m still inside you.”  The omega’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the lewd thought and he moans loudly. “Please beta?” he asks, opening his eyes again just to flash the most pitiful look ever at you. It’s going to be a long few days for you three.

[lolasimms]

a lots gonna change pt.1

Summary: Married life isn’t great, infidelity ensues and things change.

next part

Soft music sounded throughout the restaurant’s interior, as the view of the lake glistened, courtesy of the fairy lights scattered around the facilities patio. Boats lined up along the dock, few were decorated with candle lit tables, while others were completely taken by darkness.

The gentle sound of waves washed over you even with the sound of the baroque music playing aloud. You turned your attention to Lila who was nagging on about hunger and you decided to feed her some of the bread and margarine that sat in a beige woven basket in the centre of the table. Soon enough, your meals had arrived and you were tasked with feeding your greedy daughter.

As you and Ellie were engrossed in conversation, the familiar ping of her phone alerts the both of you and as she lifts it up, she makes an uncomfortable face upon spying the contact name. In haste, she excuses herself and you return to feeding Lila. Things had been tense between the two of you for the last 12 months, having your daughter had put a stint in the honeymoon period of the relationship.

Not to mention her pressuring you into taking the year off work, claiming she had it under control. Soon enough the two of you had found yourselves in couples therapy, something you were weirdly self conscious about. The prospect of marriage was something you had convinced yourself needed to be perfect, so when yours began to crack under pressure so did your confidence.

-

"EIs, I need you now" cries the hoarse voice on the other side of the phone.

"What did I tell you about calling me unannounced, I'm out with my fucking wife and kid for Christ's sake" she's now holding her fingers against her temple, rattled with anger.

"But baby, I need you" the voice cries, only angering her more.

"I'm sending an Uber to get you, I'm busy right now, don't piss me off.”

"I love youuuu" the voice whines, and she angrily ends the call, makes a straight face and returns to her family. She had to be careful, if not she would be falling down a slippery slope, one that would put everything she and y/n had been working hard to piece together in jeopardy.

“Who was that?” You ask, obliviously as Ellie returned to the table. You held a small cup of water to Lila’s mouth, the toddler chugging greedily.

“Just work, being annoying as usual” she lies through her teeth, her answer seemingly satisfying you as you simply hum in response and return to your food”

-

Ellie hated lying to you, she really did. After Lila things between the two of you had become exhausting, fights were more frequent, minimal sleep, lack of intimacy, it was affecting the way she functioned and she felt that her brain was just not in the right place. That’s when she met Amelia, blonde, petite and shallow. The complete opposite of who you were.

What was intended to be a one night stand after a particularly long day at work, turned into a 4 month long affair. Ellie felt horrible, she really did, but she had no idea how to end it without causing havoc in both of your lives. It didn’t help that Amelia was her own special brand of crazy that would stop at nothing to get Ellie’s affection and attention.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean it, I-" Amelia’s voice wavered, it wasn't real remorse, only a fool would be gullible enough to believe she held even an ounce of guilt in her, and Ellie wasn't a fool. She was sat on the edge of the king sized poster bed, compliments of the swanky hotel she had booked for the both of them. She hurriedly put her clothing back on, set on leaving as soon as she could, if she stayed near Amelia for a few more minutes she was afraid she would get violent.

In the midst of fucking her, Amelia took it upon herself to bring up Ellie’s family, claiming she could give her so much more than them. Everyone that knew Ellie was aware that her family was a red zone, a zone you didn't want to cross. After the words left her mouth, she wasted no time in pushing her off of her body and throwing her clothes back on.

"I don't even want to fucking hear it, I really don't." She tries putting her thin arms around Ellie’s neck and she wastes no time in pushing them away.

"Please it was a mistake, it was the orgasm high, baby look at me, please I love you" she's hysterical, her cheap eyeliner leaves stains running down her face, and her nauseating perfume is hard to miss when she's this close to her.

"It's over, were done. For real this time" Ellie is now stood by the bedside table, putting her wedding band back on and clicking her watch back onto her wrist. Amelia looks at Ellie dumbfounded, as she sits on the bed with her bra on, the rest of her body bare and on full display.

"You can't, please no I need you, I love you." she gets off the bed and makes her way over to the brunette who was now fuming, pounces on her and stands idly, holding onto her waist tightly.

"This was a mistake, a big one at that and I'm done, you had no fucking right to bring them up. No right!" She reaches to her waist and removes the blondes arms, aggressively. Pushing her hair back in frustration as the blonde begins hiccuping pathetically.

"It's always them over me, why can't I be enough for you?" If she weren't livid, she would have found Amelia’s words to be quite amusing. The fact that she believed she stood a chance against her wife and daughter was madness, wishful thinking at its highest.

"You're nothing to me, this was solely transactional for fucks sake and I don't love you, I never have and never will" she didn't care that it hurt her, she was hurting too, and Amelia was the only person she could project her anger onto, without feeling any sort of guilt or remorse. She placed the key card onto the table and made her way towards the door, turning around to get one last look at her. She's stood there half naked, hair disheveled and makeup running down her face, she knows this is it, she knows Ellie will never come back to her and it hurts her more than words can explain.

"No one will ever love you as much as I do" Amelia whispers as they make a final glimpse of eye contact, Ellie scoffs at her comment and closes the door, making her exit.

-

Lila, you can't do that it'll hurt your dolly" You sigh, as you look down at your kid.

"She likes it" she mumbles, you’re still taken aback whenever she speaks. It’s as though it was just yesterday when you were carrying her.

You were in the foyer of your home, hanging up some frames of a young Ellie and the rest of the family, that Joel had dropped off. Lila was 'helping' you with all the labour or at-least that's what you had convinced her, to stop her from trying to climb the ladder. In reality she was just keeping you company, sitting on the floor and continuously banging her poor dolls head on the tile. You had just hung up the last framed photo, which was a fairly new portrait of you, Ellie and Lila that Joel had taken on Mother's Day.

You thought it was beautiful, the perfect photo to tie together your family’s wall of memories. As you climb down the ladder, you're startled by the opening of the front door and met with Ellie’s tired face. She had told you she was working late tonight and you believed it from her disheveled appearance. Lila quickly runs over to embrace her and you decide to follow suit. Just as she gently places her daughter on the floor, you jump into her arms and begin kissing her face playfully.

"Hi momma, how was it?" You question as she hikes you up higher and carry's you into the living room, Lila makes sure to run after the both of you. She finally gives you one last kiss and then drops you onto the couch and wraps her arm around your sitting form.

"It was shit , Page and Vic said hi by the way" she finds herself lying to you once more, knowing good and well she wasn’t working late.

“That sucks, I’m sorry baby” you lean in for a kiss and she reciprocates hesitantly. You don’t take note of it, however she fears you might taste Amelia on her. Suddenly a ray of guilt surges through her, she’s glad she had put a stop to the affair, for once and for all.

Lila is bothered by the lack of attention she receives from the two of you and begins to whine. You both chuckle at her and Ellie takes it upon herself to get her kid ready for bed. In the meantime you walk back to the foyer to locate your phone and keep yourself updated.

'2 new messages from Dina'

D: Pleasee come over for dinner

D: I don’t care if you have to drag her here, make Ellie come!!!!!