#its such a sweet taste of everything to come and GOD they went all in

[multifariousqueer]

Hello girl! how are you? doing well?

Can I request a E 42 yandere miles X reader? Am yes, E 42 reader is dead, omg how original XD

But the E 42 reader had this "church girl" or "flower girl" innocent type persona. And when E 1610 reader arrived with miles, she is a loud, cusses out a lot and has a hammer with her at all times.

E 42 miles sees her and while stunned to see such drastic personality change, he still sees his beloved in her and wants to keep her in his world and in his life? Add flashbacks if ya like! you can change it if you want! whatever makes it be awesome! luv you! <3

Hey, love!! I can totally do this

Suerte- Miles G x Reader

A/n: I hope y’all enjoy this!!

Warnings: strong language, angst, suggestiveness, reader being a spider person, descriptions of blood and yandere behavior, kidnapping, lmk if I missed anymore

You were falling off of a building, it seemed your screams would never end as you looked up into the endless sky waiting for someone, anyone to save you. Miles watched as he tried to run and save you but by then it was too late, the sound of your skull hitting the pavement and the crimson blood that flowed from your nose was enough to indicate that you were gone and there was no saving you. Miles cradled your softer skull as the police and ambulance arrived.

Suddenly, Miles woke up in a cold sweat. It was Sunday now, and he had to get ready for church the only reason he was going was because you convinced him too

You managed to convince Miles to do just about anything; he just couldn’t say no to your adorable face and he hated disappointing you. You two seemed like an odd couple at first, with Miles being tough, cold and closed off whereas you were bright, happy, innocent and it seemed like you could do no wrong. You went to church every Sunday, you prayed all the time, you helped everyone and everything and Miles fell for your soft innocence and your warmth. He fell for your simplicity, your poise, your patience and how you felt like a piece of heaven.

The day he lost you was the day he lost himself. Miles was never the same after you left; he closed himself off completely and adopted the Prowler moniker. He felt like he failed you and that you would be so dissapointed if you saw him now. Miles would have flashbacks to you telling him how much you loved him and how you would always love him in every universe, so he decided to pray and beg God for you back and eventually, he got that.

“MILES WHERE THE FLYING FUCK ARE WE??” you shouted

“I’M TRYING TO FIGURE THAT OUT, Y/N” Miles shouted back

You and your Miles were best friends since you both came to Visions. He found out you had powers the same as him and you two clicked immediately. It seemed you two were fated to be together; same music taste, fashion choices and morals its just you were a bit more harsh than him

“I think we’re home?” Miles questioned

“I don’t remember Brooklyn looking this shitty” you said

“It’s just dark, come on, we can go to my house. My mom loves you” you said

Mrs. Morales loved you because not only were you quick on your feet, you also made Miles happy and you made a great first impression. She thought you were exactly like Miles, just more abrasive and she thought you were sweet.

You went to Miles room and it looked different, almost more grown. Your spider-sense went off and just as you went to tell Miles, Rio was there and greeting him. She looked at you like she had seen a ghost, tears spilling from her...green eyes??

“Y/n?” she whispered

“Yeah? Hi Mrs. Morales” you went, going to give her a hug which she reciprocated just more eagerly

“Oh Mija, I thought you were dead. Gracias Dios, you answered my prayers” she said, sobbing and looking up at the sky

Her and Miles had a conversation and you both revealed your identities in which she was indifferent about. Suddenly, the door opened to reveal an Uncle Aaron.

He saw you and his eyes went wide. He stalked closer to you before grabbing your shoulders and shaking his head

“Is it really you, y/n?” he said

“uhh yeah last time I checked” you chuckled, grabbing your body as a joke

“Where did you go? How are you here?” he asked in disbelief

“Well interesting story actually, we used something called our legs and walked here” you joked, usually Aaron could appreciate your humor because it was one of the things he told Miles before he died

“Miles, you won’t find another girl like her. Girls like y/n don’t come around like that so I’d advise you to keep her"

“Got it” Miles would say

It was like you were looking into a portal of dead people, your entire body clenched when his gaze suddenly went cold.

He lead Miles and you to the roof when suddenly, you felt a strong stinging in your neck and just as you were about to hit the floor, a strong pair of arms grabbed you and you heard voices

“She’s not your, y/n man. She’s meaner”

“I don’t care"

You awoke with a splitting headache on a couch. Your limbs were handcuffed together and it was dark; your eyes immediately went to search for your Miles when you saw him tied to a bag

“He won’t be up for a bit, hes out cold. Maybe we can keep him that way” a voice said

“He’s not the only one who’s gonna be out cold. Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” you snapped

“Hm. So hostile, my Y/n would never speak like that” a man said approaching you

“Dawg are you smoking crack? Speed? Bath Salts? Because you gotta be fucked up if you think-“ you started

“la muchacha sucia(dirty girl), I should’ve put that gag on you while you were out” he said, taking off his mask to reveal your boyfriend just more gaunt

“Listen here you Rick and Morty knockoff, if you try that, I will bite your finger off, comprende?” you said

“Si. Eres muy bonita pero tu boca es tan asquerosa. I can tell you aren’t from here” he smirked

“Just so you know, just because you called me pretty doesn’t mean I won’t crush your nuts the second I get out of these chains. Listen, your knockoff prowler suit doesn’t scare me and neither do these chains, I could break out right now but I’m intrigued” you said

You heard groaning and saw your Miles move

“MILES” you screamed into the other Miles’ ear

“Y/N. GET AWAY FROM HER” your Miles shouted

The other Miles ignored him but he grabbed your throat and forced you to look up at him

“It’s not a knockoff mami and unless you want to find out just how powerful this suit can be, I suggest you pipe down. It’s gonna take a bit of work, maybe force” he tightened his grip at force, causing your eyes to water and your tongue to come out

“But I think I can make it work. You may not be exactly like her, but you’ll be close enough” Miles said, lowly

If the circumstances weren’t what they were, Miles would’ve found your position hot, you were tied up, tongue hanging out a bit and your eyes looked so pretty; in his mind, you were giving him the “fuck me” eyes but in reality, you were using this as a way to escape

The idea of playing along until he got his wish came to mind but you realized this was deeper than that, he wanted you in every form and if it wasn’t you, what’s to stop him from taking another version of you that may accidentally come by.

“What happened, mami? You had so much to say, say it.” Miles taunted, hand still flush against your throat

“Yeah its kinda hard when you’re choking the life outta me” you said

He took his hand off your throat and you coughed.

“Dude just leave her alone, okay? You can have me, kill me just please let her go” your Miles said, his voice faltering at the end

“Oh but where’s the fun in that? Plus cabron, I don’t want you at all, its not about you. It’s about her and her making a promise

“What promise did I make?” you asked

Miles got a flashback of you laying next to him, playing with his braids and giggling

“I’ll love you in every universe, Miles Morales” you said sweetly

Miles teared up and explained this to you

“Okay well bud, I’m not her and in a way, I do love you in every universe, I love my Miles but” you said before he slammed his fist next to you, causing you to yelp

“I am your Miles, mi amor. At least, I will be. I’m never letting you go again” he said close to your face, hovering above your lips before getting up and striding over to your Miles

[stvharrngton]

kinktober: day thirty one

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

kink: squirting

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, fingering and oral (f receiving)

word count: 0.7k

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @wheel-of-hyperfixation @mooonyweasley @steveshairspray @jjmaybankswifes-blog @steves-babysitter @vxoguesworld

a/n: quick note but this is a wrap!! kinktober is finally finished and only 2 days late lol but thank you to everyone who has read and enjoyed these blurbs <3

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

It all felt too good.

Steve was between your legs, his fingers teasing your pussy as he licked at your clit. He was soft with it, gentle and sweet. The tips of two of his fingers were barely inside you, spreading your arousal all around, his tongue and lips swirling and kissing at your pussy.

Your hair was spread out against the pillows, your thighs spread as wide as they would go. One hand was clutching at the sheets, the other found its way into Steve’s hair, threading your fingers through his soft tresses. You moaned wildly at the intense feeling he was causing you, warmth was spreading throughout your body as the pleasure overcame you.

When Steve finally plunged his fingers inside you properly, his lips wrapped around your clit it sent you reeling. Back arching from the bed as Steve curled his fingers inside you, you cried out his name, using every last breath you could muster to let him know how good he was making you feel.

“Oh my God,” you moaned, as Steve switched between slow strokes of his fingers and fast paced thrusts. Suddenly everything felt hotter, wetter, your juices leaking from your hole and coating Steve’s fingers, leaking down onto the sheets below. 

“Does that feel good, honey?” Steve asked, taking his lips from you momentarily but his fingers never stopped, curling his digits to find that little sweet spot of yours, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, you taste so sweet.”

Everything felt so intense, your whole body was on fire. You could barely keep your eyes open, your gaze only flitting down to Steve every now and then. He soon went back to licking and sucking at your pussy, his eyes fluttering closed as he was fully engrossed in you.

It didn’t take long for Steve to find your sweet spot and it was like a switch had flipped inside of you. The pads of his fingers brushed against it over and over, again and again, it had your clit throbbing and your pussy aching. Your hips bucked up off the mattress, essentially grinding your cunt against Steve’s mouth.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried, “Fuck, Steve–” you struggled to string together a sentence, goosebumps erupted on your skin as everything went white hot. This feeling was different, something you had never experienced before, not this hot, not this intense.

“Y’gonna cum, baby?” Steve cooed, “Can feel you squeezing my fingers, fuck, you’re so wet.” He replaced his mouth with his thumb on your clit, rubbing soft, lazy circles as he continued to fuck you with his fingers, doing his best to keep touching that spot that was making you go crazy.

You could only respond with a nod and a jumble of moans and whines of the boy’s name, a shrill yes tumbling from your lips. Everything went fuzzy, you saw stars as you felt the wave of pleasure crash over you, your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. You felt yourself gush over Steve’s fingers, your pussy and inner thighs were soaked.

“Oh, Steve,” you wailed as your body tensed up, your thighs shaking as Steve began to slow his movements. Your ears rang, you felt like you were on cloud nine, like your soul had been removed from your body momentarily. 

“Jesus Christ,” you heard Steve groan quietly. His eyes were trained on your pussy, on where you’d just absolutely drenched his fingers, soaked the sheets with your juices. He was sure if he looked in the mirror right now, his pupils would be in the shape of love hearts.

It took you a minute to come around, a little time to come back down to earth. You were met with Steve’s hands on your thighs, his fingers stroking over your skin softly. You felt your cheeks heat up as you glanced down at the sheets, a large damp patch between your legs.

Steve crawled up to you, lips kissing at your cheeks, soft pecks planted all over your face. “That,” kiss, “was so hot.” kiss, “I can’t believe you just did that.”

Steve found it hard to not let it go to his head, to give his ego a little boost, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t about to attempt it the next time you got between the sheets.

[rzyraffek]

Slashers with y/n that just gets along with everything

Like slasher could litteraly kill somone near y/n and she would be like alr alr whats really important is that you are happy🤠😎. Im sorry that first 2character had super long headcanons while last ones have way less :( I had no ideas Request open!

Billy Lenz

He always expects some sort of negative response when he calls people and when he heard new voice on the Phone he got even more exited cuz new person new reaction! He totally didnt expect her to just go "yeah yeah sure buddy, anyways... how is your day man? Cuz im so so tired...*starts normal converstation*

He probably tries to stay in character but he is so caught of Guard he doesnt know how to react really (hehe the table has turn)

Now he kinda hopes that she will pick up cuz shes very intresting😈 billy likey

"Ew its this creep again! He is asking for you y/n? Of please dont tell me you befriended him??" "So what? He said hes favourite fruit is strawberry he cant be that bad!" *billy saying slurs on the phone*

You need to constantly tell him that, no Billy no harrasing women isnt sexy, you arent quirky, you are mentally ill

"Y/n i killed that bitch that was gossiping about you 🧍 " "👍good for you billy im glad you found healthy way to cope with that negative emotion😇" "on god"

His whole moral compass is created around the simple question 'does it hurt y/n?' .1:no it doesnt so feel free to do it .2 do not do it, she will ban Billy from sweets (bad ending)

The man from hush

This guy. This dude. This Little gremlin. He is upset that he gets no reaction! Like please oh please act all angy when he 'acidently' shot tire in her car! But oh no ofc no, she had to be like "oh its okay honey i have backup in garage🥰" hes like HHUH SINCE WHEN WE HAVE GARAGE

Like tbh thats how i imagine how they met: he saw her, he wanted to hunt her, she was so chill that she didnt even leave her household while the power was off and he went inside and just saw her having lil nap on couch. 🧍🤨erm exuse me gurl im trying to roleplay epic hunter here tf

He probably kidnaped her cuz she was too weird to just kill her but he didnt want to risk her calling police. He probably tied her up and yeeted her on backseats. And then she begun judging music on the radio"yo big guy can i get some good music taste?" "What? Whats wrong with Taylor Swift?"

He will overshare everything to kinda check where is her limit if it comes to being chill "yeah so i killed this old lady.." "im sure you had good reason🥰" "🤨... anyways... yeah so i was drinking some redbull when some guy said i look ugly so i shoot his head off and-" "HEY HEY hold up geez you CANT drink Energy drinks?? Bestie you know it is unhealthy?? Also you like hunt for sport it will ruin your condition!? How you gonna shoot people with shakey hands?? You crazy or something?" "Damn😔"

Micheal myers

I tried to put him here but i realised he will be as chill as her.

Like he can give her gifts covered in blood and she' just going to clean it and wear it like nothing happened or completley ignore it

He cares about this stuff as much as y/n so like not at all. I mean tbh theres is a bit of difrence: shes at least positive about it! Like "yeah micheal go for it, love🥰😇 i know its hard to cope with trauma take it all out alr?" Shes trying to be a good supporting gf not her fault she never had serial killer bf!

Brahms Heelshire

He lives for attention! What do you mean the war crime he commited this lunch break is okay!?!? Baby pleasee

But this negativity disapears the moment he realised he can get a lot of positive attention when he will do some nice stuff! "Oh honey I didnt kill any rats today" "oh that's amazing brahms I'm sure you and the rats inside walls will get along well soon🥰" (rats in walls bully brahms)

Please complement him or he will get a tantrum and destroy something

Brahms and rats have very hard past i might do seperate hc about that

Ghostface

"Look babe! My newest victim *shows photo*" "ugh baby...😰 you NEED to buy new camera or watch some youtube tutorials about how to take good photos" "aw man whats wrong with my pictures 😔"

Otherwise y/n supports his hobbies! People need to grow😇 (and he needs to grow up)

If theres 2ghostfaces(like in most movies) they will bet money on how long you gonna keep this 'do whatever as long as youre happy' act. Well they didnt know that this wasnt an act but her personality

Also they will probably try to use this chillnes aginst her like "oooh y/n something terrible happened! I crushed my car oh what will i do!" "Alr bestie i will drive you over there😇" "😈omg you are so nice i totally didnt expect that(heheh i dont need to pay for gas today (hes very evil))

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia: (Part Twenty-Four AU)

Threesome Edition

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content: Threesome (M/M/GN), Jealousy/possessive fighting, Spitroasting, Size difference, Oral sex (reader performing & recieving), Swallowing, Double penetration, PinV sex, Anal sex, Breeding kink, Humiliation kink, Creampie, Aftercare.

Word count: 11k

Notes: Alright you fuckin degenerates HERE YOU GO! I DID IT! Alternate version of chap twenty-four which ends with a bit more s p i c e, aka Miguel is no longer a dumb virgin.

You barrelled into the elevator with Mig at your back. Neither of you could even stomach waiting until the doors were closed; the moment you hit the floor he was pinning you down with his lips and biceps, tonguing your mouth with furious, pining little moans. The doors closed on a handful of curious if horrified onlookers.

‘Mm- mm, come here’ he hissed between kisses, furiously petting your body.

‘M-Mig—’ You barely even got his name out of your mouth before his tongue was back down your throat. The soft ‘ding’ of the elevator, a reminder of the professional, clean-cut environment you were in, was drowned out by the sound of Mig grinding you into the floor.

You dug your nails into his back as you smothered you with his human torso. It was hard to breathe. You felt your lungs expanding in your chest as his muscled chest crushed your ribs. No air could hope to break through the bond he’d made between your lips, that halo of saliva and venom, allowing him to taste you in the most perverse way. His flat, hot tongue was curious as it brushed your own. You felt so delicate. So small. He wanted to eat you up.

You were getting lightheaded.

‘Mm—MM—’

It was right then, as Mig was sliding his tongue down your throat, that a deafening bang filled the elevator. You spun in unison to see the unexpected interruption.

The doors to the elevator had been yanked apart, revealing a tall and imposing shadow in its maw. You both watched in a state of panic as their face came into view.

Miguel’s cold, tired pout stared back at you and Mig from the elevators entrance.

For a moment all three of you went silent. You were too shocked to say a word, as was Mig, and Miguel seemed too exasperated to get a word out. He simply ran a hand down his face and furiously rubbed at his eyes.

‘Ay coño—’ he murmured beneath his breath.

You felt your heart sink into your chest. Oh god. You’d been tricked. Of course, this was all a ruse, wasn’t it? Miguel had set you up, made you feel safe, and now he was going to show you off to everyone. You could faintly see the curious spiders moving about the lobby behind him, all of them in the perfect position to see you beneath Mig.

You locked gazes with Miguel as he stared down at you with cold, red, disdainful eyes. You silently pleaded for him not to do whatever he was about to do, even though you knew it was likely pointless. His eyes narrowed.

‘Everything okay Miguel?’

Someone from outside called to him, and you braced for him to reveal you and Mig in your compromising position. But Miguel didn’t do that.

‘It’s fine! Lyla spotted something off about the elevator. I’m going to check it out’ he said, and before anyone could reply he used his own web to slam the elevator doors shut.

You were too shocked to even get up. ‘You—Miguel, where did you—’

‘Why… did you not USE A PORTAL TO GO HOME?’ he hissed in your face. You stumbled back as Mig pushed his way forward, his teeth defensively bared. The two butted foreheads so hard that it let out a violent cracking noise.

It took you stumbling to your feet to stop them from breaking into an all-out war. Your skin-tight suit had been soaked with slick just from Mig’s sweet kisses, and the smell seemed to have a physical pull on the two men. You stood, sodden and abashed, beneath the joint glow of their eyes.

‘I….’ Miguel grunted and coughed, forcing his aggravated expression back on like a mask. ‘I said, why did you two not make a portal and go back to your universe. Why did you go into the elevator?!’

‘I, ah—I, wasn’t, thinking straight’ you blurted. ‘I just… I needed, to—’

‘Eres estúpido—’ Miguel paused midway through his angry rant to breathe. You watched in real time as he forced that instinctual rage down. ‘I know’ Miguel grunted. ‘I know. God, you both—stink. Just— alright, stand back’ he barked. You hated how you still obediently followed his orders.

Miguel held up his watch and created a portal on the far side of the elevator. He gestured for you both to jump in. ‘Here. Sneak out while you can, I’ll divert the people outside.’

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. You wanted to ask what his deal was, where he’d gone, why he was suddenly helping. You had a million questions for this man, though you quickly realized they’d have to wait, as Mig was tugging you towards him. The spider hadn’t blinked since Miguel entered the elevator, and his body was shaking with an innate desire to tear his rival to shreds.

Miguel stared back with cold eyes.

‘Go, now. Out’ he said. Mig bobbed his head. He checked quickly that you were safe and stable at his side, and with his foreleg around your waist he leapt through.

You dove through the portal and stumbled back out into the old woods, your feet right on the verge of your homely little hole in the ground. You let out a low groan as you hit the grass.

The heat was still burning low and strong in your core, thickening with every minute that passed. You’d settled it a little by letting Mig grind on you, but it would soon return. At least you’d be able to quell it at home.

Mig took a moment to collect himself on the grass before grasping your nape between his teeth, his favourite method for carrying you in a rut. It was pleasurable to grasp you in his maw, to show off how small you were and how strong he was. You didn’t need words; his warm, affectionate breath on your neck was enough, as was your willing acceptance of his grip.

You hung limp and allowed him to carry you down into your shared nest. Through the rounded door, down into the dimly lit earthen tunnels where the candlelight danced across your skin. Your belly knotted in anticipation. You knew where he was taking you.

Sure enough, Mig went straight to the bedroom. He widened his jaw and let you drop into the soft, sweet silk covering your shared bed, all of it smelling like him. You breathed in his scent as he began rustling at your back. He was doing his little mating dance, rhythmically shaking to earn your favour.

‘Mi tesoro’ he whined. ‘Mi hermoso tesoro, te necesito.’

You coyly glanced over your shoulder at him. That temptation was bubbling in your gut again, the heat prickling beneath the skin. You wanted that pretty spider to have you.

‘Mm… Mig, come here—’

You rolled and held out your arms, ready to take him in, only to lose sight of him in an explosion of light.

Your arms flew to your face as Mig dived on your body. You could feel him trying to shield you, but from what you didn’t know. You tensed and prepared for some kind of attack.

But nothing happened. Seconds passed without a change in the air, spare for the light you could see dancing beneath your closed lids. When Mig also failed to move or speak, you opened your eyes.

You froze. Miguel was standing in the middle of your bedroom, his silhouette framed by a shifting portal, the culprit of the sudden explosion of light. He ignored you both as you gawked in shock, instead fixing his sleeves as the portal collapsed in on itself.

‘Miguel?’ you blurted. He glanced down at you and froze. He could smell the heat on you even here. That fragrant, tempting musk, the scent of slick dripping from a body ready for him to breed.

He was like a starving man on the brink of death being taunted with an overripe peach; all he wanted to do was tear into that soft flesh, and taste whatever was inside. He bit his tongue to stop flushing.

‘Really? The moment you got back, you start—rubbing on each other again? Not a second to waste? God you are both—’ he paused to hiss beneath his breath. ‘Degenerado. Cochino’ he emphasised as he glanced at Mig. The two locked eyes.

‘You’ Mig hissed, venom bubbling at the corners of his teeth.

‘Cochino’ Mig repeated coldly.

The two jumped at each other before you could even think of stopping them. They went for the throat, teeth gnashing and claws flying, snapping and pushing on each other’s shoulders like dogs. You yanked at Mig’s fur in vain.

‘STOP! MIGUEL, STOP!’ you cried.

After the initial burst of rage Miguel did force himself back. He stumbled away and panted hard, leaving you to grip Mig’s side so he didn’t finish the job. It was clear that the hormones in the room were simply too much for them.

‘Get OUT, OF MY NEST!’ Mig seethed. His body let out a rustling sound like a snake, a fools attempt to scare Miguel away. His variant let out a violent hiss, and you tensed in preparation for another attack, but to your surprise Miguel instead relented.

He drew back and shook his head from side to side, physically smacking the left side of his face with his palm. He continued this pattern until he seemed to have calmed. ‘Look, I—I came, to talk. I need to talk to you both’ he said.

‘You are not welcome in my nest, nor even in this forest’ Mig said, his lip curling with distaste.

‘I just—I need to talk to you!’ Miguel replied cryptically. Mig was having none of it. He stamped and reared his front legs in a territorial display.

‘I have nothing to say to you, spare perhaps that I’m disappointed to see you didn’t—’ Mig froze. He wanted to say ‘die’, but as it reached his lips it petered out into nothing. That wasn’t the truth. His raging, stallion hormones were pushing him into anger unbecoming of himself.

He was, deep down, glad to see Miguel alive. Nothing could quell their past, nor his fundamental morals. He valued life. He valued this man, even if he hated him for what he’d done. Mig swallowed hard and struggled to regain his commanding tone.

‘You… What do you want?’ he barked. ‘If you want them—’

‘Idiot. I’m not here to hurt you, or to touch them, or—anything of the sort. Look, if you’re that paranoid, you can… tie my hands together. You’re a freak, you should enjoy that, right?’ Miguel replied spitefully.

Mig narrowed his eyes. ‘If our shared insecurity taught you anything, it should be that you are not my type’ he said slowly.

Miguel narrowed his eyes back. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a grim half-smile. He let out a chuckle. It was just one soft noise, then two, then three. ‘Mhm. Funny. Funny. Just—can we talk? …Please?’

He said ‘please’ like it physically hurt to say, but he said it. Mig glanced around his shoulder at you, and you glanced back.

You weren’t sure what to think. Miguel so far had done three things that surprised you. He’d filed the paperwork so you didn’t get in trouble, which at the time you suspected could have been a secret ploy to ruin you later, but now he’d been given the most perfect chance to embarrass you both in front of the society and he’d instead saved you again.

‘If you wanted to talk you have a funny way of going about it’ you said coldly, nothing the fresh cuts on Miguel’s arm. He sneered at you. He clearly wanted to argue back, but just like before he shook his head until his eyes were a little clearer. It was as if he was physically fighting some demonic possession.

‘We’re—spiders. It’s what we do’ he said in response, only to fold at the sight of your disgusted, disbelieving expression. ‘I mean—the, rut, it… I’m sorry. I will hold my tongue’ he said instead.

‘Do you promise to just… stand, quietly? And not, attack my partner again?’ you asked.

‘Yes. I will- stand here, and not attack. I promise’ he said, and even waved his wrist web mechanisms aside. He held up his hands in surrender.

The distaste in Miguel’s eyes was what you wanted to see. If he’d had something planned he’d have looked cool, collected, perhaps smug even. Right now, he looked angry. He looked annoyed, even, that he had to do this. He was doing this against his will, meaning either someone was forcing him to help you, or he was forcing himself to do this.

You gently patted Mig’s back, urging him to lean around and face you again.

‘Let’s hear him out’ you said. Mig instinctively looked disgusted at the idea, almost betrayed that you’d even suggest it.

‘He—after what he did—’

‘I’m not asking for anything other than to hear him out’ you insisted. ‘If he makes a move, you can kill him. Though, only if I haven’t killed him first. But twice now he’s helped us out. He was given the perfect chance to actually get us kicked out and he rejected it.’

‘He— It’s a, ploy. It has to be’ Mig hissed. You shook your head.

‘No. If he had a plan, he wouldn’t be so angry that he’d done it. He knows he’s getting nothing out of this.’

Miguel raised a brow as you spoke. He seemed begrudgingly impressed at how perceptive you were.

‘Argh…. Very well. Arañita, ask what you must’ Mig grumbled. ‘Just don’t let him stay too long. His- stench is disgusting.’

Miguel opened his mouth to argue back, but a murderous side-eye from you forced his mouth shut again. He curled his lip with petulant disdain as you faced him.

‘Alright. Look, we don’t have much time, unless—well unless you plan to watch again, so let’s be quick. Up front, what do you want?’ you spat. Miguel widened his jaw and snapped as he spun, his body betraying the mannerisms of a cornered animal.

‘I wanted to—apologize.’ He grit his teeth on the word ‘apologize’, and he refused to make eye contact, but he did at least manage to get it out. You paused.

‘You—You want to apologise?’ you said incredulously. He grit his teeth so hard they cracked.

‘Y… Yes. Yes. I want to apologize’ he repeated.

You maintained your pause, your eyebrow slowly raising. Now this was interesting. Interesting enough for you to briefly push your heat aside. ‘Okay’ you said, ‘go on. Do it. Apologize.’

Mig let out a dangerous purr at your back as he watched the man with unblinking eyes, as did you. Miguel felt that gaze like a spotlight.

‘I’m—sorry, for how I acted’ Miguel said. The words seemed to weigh in his mouth like hot coals. It looked like agony. ‘I’m sorry. I am, genuinely, sorry, that I let my distaste for you personally impact their safety.’

‘What about Mig’s safety?’ you pushed.

Miguel bared his teeth. ‘I was getting to tha—uh. Yes, I am sorry that I impacted on your safety too, Miguel. You—whatever issues we have, you were under my care, and… you are one of me. The only one of me I still have contact with. I should have kept you safe.’

‘I don’t need your protecting’ Mig sneered. He reared himself for the second time, fully gripping the roots of the ceiling with his claws to show off his enormous side. Miguel stirred with discomfort at the display. He tried, against all the impulses in his body telling him otherwise, to stand still and finish his apology.

‘I’m sorry I tried to approach you so aggressively while in rut, I—am, disgusted in myself for that. I grabbed you and that was wrong. I’m sorry I acted unprofessionally in trying to tear you apart. I truly, believed, I was doing what was right, that you were in danger in his care, but I—I was wrong’ he said, grimacing on the word ‘wrong’.

‘I know I was wrong. And I hate it, because I can’t afford to be wrong, but that—that isn’t your fault. I just—I am sorry, for how I pushed both of you. You… didn’t, technically, do anything wrong.’

Mig listened in silence. When he spoke, it was cold.

‘I don’t care. I don’t want it.’

‘Mig—’

‘I don’t need, nor want, his apology’ Mig cried, both at you and Miguel. ‘And you shouldn’t either. He is a lying snake!’

‘I can’t—lie! O’Hara’s can’t lie!’ Miguel argued, his hands now clasped to his chest. Mig spat venom at him for the second time.

‘You are not an O’Hara. You are a snake. You are—’

‘YOU’RE being unfair! I apologized, I—I did the thing, this is not my fault anymore!’

Mig let out a sardonic laugh. ‘After all you’ve done? You pathetic, grovelling, creature, begging for my mate, begging for attention—’

‘I’M SORRY’ Miguel blurted. Mig reared himself up to instigate a fight, but this time you held him back. You grabbed a thick fistful of his fur and tugged him back down to the bed beside you.

‘Miggy- stop—’

You heard their teeth clashing above you. You hated, internally, how your hot little body throbbed at the sound. You were still instinctively excited by their violence.

‘YOU ARE A SNAKE—’

‘I’M TRYING—TO FIX THING—’

‘YOU ARE A MONSTER!’ Mig cried, his mouth barely a cm Miguel’s.

‘YES! YES, I AM!’

Miguel’s wailing filled the room as the two fell apart, and for a moment you all paused. He let out another broken sound as he paced back and forth across the dirt floor of your bedroom, his head now hanging in his clawed hands.

‘I am! I am! Why do you have to remind me!?’

Mig paused. He was trembling with the unfulfilled need to fight, coursing with adrenaline, but that noise ruined everything. The sound of a man wailing. He didn’t know what to do with that.

‘You… After, all you’ve done—’

‘Yes! I know! It’s why I--- It’s why, I’m trying’ he whined through gritted teeth. You could feel Mig tapping his feet in discomfort.

‘Is that what—do I have to stand here, and be berated, to fix this!?’

‘Why should I not be allowed to speak to you the way I want?!’ Mig snapped.

‘Because it—GOD, It’s so easy for you!’

‘What do you mean, easy for me?!’

‘Because despite what you are, you—grotesque, beast, you get to be—’ Miguel paused again. Through all that anger, through all that disgust, you thought for a moment that he looked sad. ‘You get… you get…’

He looked pitiable, lost, alone. It flashed over his eyes for just a second before he blinked it away.

‘I have seen, every version of myself’ Miguel said. His voice had dipped now, reflecting that internal sadness you’d sensed. ‘Every. Version. They are all… miserable. They all lose someone, if not everything. Do you know how many Peter Parkers there are, that are happy?’

You shook your head awkwardly, and Miguel let out a sardonic chuckle. ‘Almost 60%. Do you know how many versions of me, are happy?’

Again, you shook your head. You saw that little flash of self-pity again.

‘It’s just… him’ he spat. He raised a claw and pointed it at Mig, who stared back with sombre eyes. ‘It’s just, him, now. The only one happy, and it wasn’t even with someone from his own universe. He’s all that’s left. The only other version of us who got to be happy was the one who wasn’t changed, who got to have a child, but he died before he got to really raise her. Everywhere I went, I was alone, or dead, or a monster. Do you know, what they DOES to a person?’

You felt your body growing small in the face of his spiel. You felt Mig shuffling uncomfortably.

‘You don’t. But he does.’ Miguel pointed again to Mig, who refused to meet his gaze. ‘He knows. He knows what it means to be alone, and for that I needed him.’

For some reason, that sentiment bothered you. ‘You treated Mig worse than anyone else’ you blurted. Miguel didn’t deny it.

‘Because I know why we’re alone! It’s—us! As beings!’ Miguel lamented. ‘It’s the spider in us, this, monster, this animal, with no morals, just—eat, fuck, sleep, kill. I wanted to believe I could be good. That I could be better. But I keep…’

He paused again to let out a long breath. ‘I keep, fucking, up. I keep hurting people, like you. But he fucked up too. I justified, myself, because… well he fucked up too. It must be all of us. But he… You, stayed with him, so long. You ignored peoples disgust, you—ignored his body, and you, stayed. I couldn’t comprehend why. I thought—he had to be using you.’

‘I stayed because he’s good’ you insisted. ‘See, you’re so—cruel to him, just for looking this way. He’s only ever been kind.’

‘Ah. Yep. And there it is.’

You blinked in confusion as Miguel smiled sadly.

‘There it is, that’s what drove me so mad. Like he said. I am—a jealous, man. Why did you care about him, why did you want him, and not me?’

‘I—’

‘It doesn’t matter. Does it? It doesn’t matter why you picked him. All that mattered, to me, is that you didn’t pick me. I… hate, what I am. I despise it. And I just—I wanted, someone, to want me. Even a part of me. I wanted someone to prove me wrong. But they never did.’

‘But, your friend—’ you started to say, until Miguel interrupted you again.

‘Pity’ Miguel grunted. ‘It feels like… pity, when he touches me. It’s why I can’t stand it unless I have to. He’s a good man, but… Nobody touches me because they want me.’

‘How sad’ Mig cruelly noted. Miguel let out another sad laugh, and you noticed then that his red eyes were wavering. They were swimming, like the setting sun over an ocean scape. He was crying. He was trembling as he fought himself.

‘You stood by his side. You stood by him through everything, and I…’

He paused and wiped a hand down his face. ‘I have no excuse anymore. Something is wrong with me. I don’t know what, maybe—it is, the spider, maybe its potency is more in me than him because its hidden, I don’t know. I just know that, he’s doing something right, and—I don’t know what it is, but, I want to know.’

He turned to face the wall, seemingly to hide his emotion. ‘I’m sorry’ Miguel said slowly. ‘I am, sorry.’

Mig took a minute or so to slow his breathing, using your warmth and presence as a comforter to soothe his violently beating heart. His body began to relax as he leant against you for support.

Bit by bit, the tension in the room burnt out. Soon all that was left was the smouldering remnants of a very complicated relationship, lingering within all three of you at once.

‘I… don’t, know, how to trust this’ Mig hissed. ‘I don’t know how I’m supposed to trust you.’

‘I will prove it’ Miguel said over his shoulder. ‘I will. I want to, help.’

‘Help with what?’ Mig pushed.

Miguel let out an exasperated sigh. ‘We mentioned, ages ago, that the reason you needed to be sanctioned was due to the unknown factors around people from different dimensions having children. Right?’

‘Yes. I remember what you used to keep us apart’ Mig hissed.

‘I…’ Miguel opened his mouth to deny it, but he had to stop himself. He knew it was true. ‘Yes, I did. I used it as an excuse to shame you away from each other. But—it wasn’t, untrue.’

‘What wasn’t?’ you asked.

‘The issue of, inter-dimensional couples’ Miguel explained. ‘That. That is the issue. People from different universes have different DNA, we’re coded to the universe we came from. As far as we know, it’s not changeable. It’s why, without that watch there, you would de-stabilize and your DNA would crumble in another world.’

You blinked, and glanced at the watch on your wrist. As you contemplated what he was saying, you started to feel a little sick. The reminder that you weren’t welcome here, that you were hanging by a thread in this world, it hurt to realize. You and Mig weren’t from the same universe. You were never meant to meet.

‘Because of that, the idea that—well, the possibility of breeding between dimensions, it’s never been touched before. None of our members have tried, until… you, two. There is a very real fear that it could cause an anomaly, or—kill you, one or both of you.’

You were drawn to look at Mig, and he was drawn to look at you. He looked horrified. The intrusive memory of Dana, dead on the ground, filled his head. The idea of that being you, of you dying in an attempt to bring about offspring for him, it made him his heart palpitate.

‘Arañita?’ he whimpered. You touched a hand to his flank to help keep him grounded, and internally you stiffened yourself. He needed you to be strong for him.

‘We… yeah. We know that’ you said slowly. ‘I mean—even if it wasn’t true, we accepted that we might not be able to have kids. It’s fine. I’m happy with him.’

‘That’s fine, but… If we could know for sure, would you want to know?’ Miguel asked.

‘I… I mean, yes, but, how?’ you asked, still in shock.

‘I’ve done some research into this area before. I haven’t conducted anything regarding the creation of new life via different universal donors, but, I think my previous research may be useful. I just—I need help to do it. I wasn’t good enough, on my own, to do anything successfully. I’m too- busy.’

He cracked his knuckles as he spoke. He looked angry to admit it, to acknowledge his failure. You watched his full display with wide and curious eyes. Something in him had undoubtedly changed.

‘You’re, asking for help?’

‘Yes. I need—more of me’ Miguel explained. ‘I will do the bulk, since I’m the only one who can do it, but I need assistance, and the only one who can help is another version of me.’

‘And, you’ll help us find out if we can, stay? Together? Why?’ you asked.

Miguel grunted, his lip curling into a slightly sarcastic smile. ‘After all the failures I saw, I gave up. But… I have convinced myself, perhaps stupidly, to do this one more time. To try, one last time. Maybe I can still prove I’m a good person, maybe—’ Maybe I could love something, he thought, though he couldn’t bring himself to say it. Maybe he could be happy. Maybe, he wasn’t doomed.

Mig grunted at Miguels proposition. He didn’t look pleased, but deep down he had regained some of his sympathy for his variant. This arrogant fool had ruined himself, and now he stood here crying, asking for help.

It felt good to see him so low. It also felt bad. Mig could so easily see himself in his place. He’d done so much, and yet he just kept forgiving him. Perhaps he was stupid for that.

Deep down he did want to regain his connection to Miguel, as the only two people in the multiverse who understood each other. How could he not? But the water was so murky now, he didn’t know if it could ever be fully cleaned.

The hormones certainly didn’t help. While he instinctually wanted to submit to you, in turn he wanted to submit this man. He’d beaten him in a fight, he’d won your favour, and yet it wasn’t enough. He still felt unfulfilled. What more could he need? What could he do to even them?

Either way, what mattered is that Miguel was making an offer that meant the world to him. The chance to be with you long term, to consider having a family, to be a unit. It was all he wanted.

‘Very well’ Mig said slowly. He began to lower his tensed spider legs back to the floor as a sign of clemency. ‘I… accept your proposal. I cannot accept your apology, but I accept it as a… start.’

Miguel gave an awkward nod in response. His eyes betrayed a conflicted admiration for his counterpart, though it was still tinted with self-loathing and jealousy. Mig sighed. His own eyes betrayed the same.

‘Yes, I um—I don’t know if I can forgive, yet, not until I’ve seen some change, but… I mean I appreciate the apology. I do’ you said.

‘Oh, god—don’t pity me too’ Miguel scoffed.

You let out a little sarcastic laugh through your nose. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t. I—’

You opened your mouth to add something, only to double over with a low groan.

You’d forgotten. In the thick of shock you’d forgotten the heat, still lingering deep within your body, begging for release. Against your will it reared its head, that primal urge bursting forth into your blood. It was hot. It was tight. It was BEGGING.

‘Ah…. F-fuck, ah—’

‘Are they okay?’ Miguel blurted. Against his better judgement he moved to help you, only to get a nose-full of that smell. The sweet, rich musk of your body, the smell of pheromones calling to him. He almost stumbled.

‘Oh… Oh. I—’

He caught Mig’s eye as you whined and shuffled in the sheets. The spider was glowing with dangerous intent. His eyes were wide, red, bloody and smooth, and he was slowly moving to cover your body. He refused to blink as he dragged your little body towards his own, his teeth sinking into your suit to pull you closer.

Miguel felt that usual flood of confusing, conflicting emotion. He felt jealousy, lust, disgust. He wanted to run, to flee, and yet he wanted more than anything to dive in, to bury himself in that mattress and plead for your favour.

‘I see you are—busy’ Miguel said through his teeth.

You managed to look up at him as he spoke, your misty eyes struggling to fixate on his face.

Just as he could smell you, you could smell him. As you breathed in his pheromones you came to a sad realization.

Miguel was still infected. He was still rich with pollen, still rutting, still burning up with heat, and he had no other outlet. You’d needed sex almost ten times a day to soothe your shared rut, but theoretically, Miguel had received nothing. No relief, no saving, just that agonising itch he couldn’t scratch.

Your saw his eyes lingering. He was sniffing, subtly, breathing in the smell of warmth and sex and musk. You saw his fist tighten and noted the subtle squeak of straining leather as it did so.

‘I… I should, go—’

‘Wait.’

You spoke without thinking, ordering him to stay. He did as told, his eyes lingering on your face. You held that gaze.

O’Hara’s couldn’t lie. They could hide the truth, but they couldn’t distort it. You knew he was genuinely sorry for what he’d done. He wouldn’t sound so angry about it if he wasn’t. Whatever he’d done before, right now, he was tame.

You couldn’t forgive him so easily, but your brain was on fire. The heat had burned away all higher thought, and you just couldn’t cope with the need. You saw him standing there, alone, and you thought about when you were crushed during the fight.

You secretly relived that memory often. The thought of being penetrated on both ends, to be utterly subdued by two huge men with their snapping teeth and inhuman pheromones, it was too much to even think about. It made you soft. It made your insides clench around nothing, reminding you of your own need to be filled.

The final, filthiest taboo. The one peak, the one ultimate indulgence. That sweet, rare, unachievable gem.

As you looked up with misty eyes you saw the tension in Miguel. The need bubbling just under the surface, the accumulated denial of relief. That stupid, emotionally constipated man, denying himself the most basic touch, ruining himself for pride.

It was hard to not feel sorry for him. It was hard to not want to see him weep over the faintest touch. It was hard to not want to submit him yourself.

‘I think… I think, I know, how he can start showing, how sorry he is’ you murmured.

You felt Mig shifting above you. He was already hard, unabashedly so even in front of his variant, and he seemed too distracted to have heard you. He was panting while rubbing himself out against your thighs.

‘Uhn… w-what?’ he asked, his voice husky. You licked your bottom lip.

‘I… I know, how he can start, making it up to us. If he agrees’ you repeated slowly. You felt Mig rock to a stop.

‘What— What do you mean?’ Miguel hissed. He was feigning annoyance to avoid revealing how aroused he was, how the smell of your body was tugging at him like a physical rope. You licked your lip a second time, and this time, you bit it. Miguel’s eyes instinctively widened.

‘We made him watch us, that one time, right?’ you said slowly. While Mig purred at the memory Miguel looked away, clearly embarrassed. He must have assumed you were going to make him sit and watch again.

‘Yes, I remember’ Mig replied. ‘Do you—’

‘What if, we—did that again, but this time, we let him help?’ you blurted.

Miguel’s head snapped back to you, his eyes wide and hungry. He seemed confused. Did he think he’d misheard? Did he think his mind was playing tricks? You held his gaze steady, your own eyes starving for touch, and slowly his eyes widened with realization. No, he’d heard right.

‘He could… help us out, with easing the r—’

Mig growled hard, cutting off your proposition. You groaned as his talons sank into your back. He pinned you hard to the bed as he leered around your back, his eyes burning as they narrowed at Miguel.

‘Mine.’

‘No, Mig, I—’ you glanced up and tried to catch Mig’s attention, your eyes darting between him and Miguel. You were gesturing silently your desire, your interest.

‘What—what are you saying, arañita?’ he hissed. You bade for him to come down so you could speak with some semblance of privacy.

‘I… I, look, just hear me out. I’m suggesting, that… maybe, just, one time, it—fuck, this rut is so bad, and, if he owes us, it might help me, to… let him, get, involved.’

For a moment you saw concern flash over Mig’s eyes. ‘You… want, him?’ he asked. You shook your head.

‘No, no, not like that. I don’t want him. Just… what he has on him’ you whispered. ‘This is purely physical, I just… This all started, because—mm—we’re all, messy, hormonal, idiots, and you know that. I-I know, you offered to let him watch again, to—ease himself. I-I’m offering that again, just—different. As weird as it is, he owes us, and I want him—to make up for shaming us. How better than to show him for the hypocrite he is?’

In the corner Miguel was absolutely still. He was trying to cover up how he was almost drooling at the mouth like a starving animal, his venom glands working overtime as his rutting body trembled.

This was wrong, he thought. This was so wrong. He shouldn’t want this. He shouldn’t indulge this. Oh, but god, the idea of touching something, of being touched, it made him dizzy. Despite his brain screaming at him to go, he stayed.

‘I-I don’t want your, pity fuck’ Miguel hissed.

‘It’s not pity’ you hissed back, your own body now trembling. ‘I want—to use you.’

Those words drew him to pause. Being used? That meant being wanted, at least on some level, right? Suddenly all of his reservations melted, leaving only the burning, desperate excitement beneath. He’d be touched. He’d be wanted, even just as a donor. He’d be required.

Mig purred low. His eyes were narrowed, but he seemed curious. ‘You… Wish to, use him?’ he murmured. ‘But, the mating—’

‘No mating’ you panted. ‘Just- I’m proposing just the mouth, for now. No mating. I only mate with you.’

The mouth, Miguel thought with a tremble. He could fuck your mouth.

Mig grunted, his breath condensing in the air. The glow of his eyes turned his smoky breath red. He refused to let anyone else touch you, or inside you, but he couldn’t pretend something inside him wasn’t a little aroused by the idea of you using his counterpart for your own pleasure.

The heat was spiralling you all out of your usual depths.

‘You are, mine?’ he murmured. He spoke so low that only you could hear him.

‘I’m yours’ you whispered back. As if to prove that point you used his foreleg claw to slice your suit open at the crotch, smearing his fur with the seed he’d left dripping from your cunt. He shuddered a little at the reminder.

‘All yours. It’s just… It’ll calm him down, it’ll calm me down, and he’ll have to obey you. I’ll let you be in control of what he does. I think, that might calm you down, too.’

Mig glanced down at the little sticky white strings hanging between his fur and your inner thighs. He fixated on them as he tried to think through the haze of heat, through the violent throbbing pulsing of his cock.

The more he dwelled on the idea, the more it fascinated him. It felt deeply perverse but in this state it was feeding his pleasure. He was disgusting and horrified at the idea of you mating with his variant, or of being affectionate with anyone else, but what you suggested? Using him like a toy to bring him right down to your level, to humble him completely, keeping him in your joint good graces so he never messed with him again? It fed right into his need to assert dominance.

It was tempting. As was the idea of seeing you so desperate, so horny, all while taking his seed alone, it sent a little shiver up his spine. His abdomen rustled.

‘Mm… I will, be in control?’ Mig asked. You nodded.

‘And… you are, mine?’ he repeated. You nodded harder.

‘All yours’ you whined. ‘All, all yours. Always.’

Mig purred again. He let out a low clicking noise before raising his head, and with a neutral expression he gestured for Miguel to approach with one claw. Miguel obeyed.

‘You do not mate with them’ the great spider barked. ‘That is my right only. You do not touch this—’ he paused to gesture at your chest, your clit, and your entrance, ‘Or this, or this. They are mine. You will not speak nor receive any words of affection beyond appreciation for their- hospitality. That is for me alone. You will stand still, and obey, and they’ll do what they want with you. Understand?’

Miguel curled his lips. He seemed aggravated still that he had to tilt his head back to speak with his counterpart, but the need to be touched kept him rooted to the spot. ‘Yes, sir’ he grunted with a crack of his knuckles.

Mig purred. Their eyes glowered in the dark of the den. ‘Good’ he noted. ‘Then, mi arañita, you may show me what you want.’  

You were shaking with anticipation as you nodded up at him. ‘O-Okay. Just—if, if anything bothers you, let me know, okay?’

Mig paused and admired how affectionate your gaze was, how big your eyes looked peering up at him from your precious position, bound and pinned on the bed by his huge hands. ‘Of course’ he purred. ‘Of course. Mi arañita.’

You nodded to Mig before letting him mount you from behind, instead turning your own focus to Miguel. ‘C-Come here’ you panted.

He approached with a slightly curled lip, seemingly annoyed that he had to take orders, but despite his cold face you could see his cock straining beneath his suit. The hologram was sparking at the tip with how hard it was trying to burst forth.

He stopped in front of your face, barely an inch from your lips.

‘You… Are you—a-ah!’ You squeaked and jolted as Mig tore your suit aside, leaving you completely naked. You could feel his tip probing at your cunt, smearing you with pre-cum. Miguel’s eye twitched as he fought not to show he arousing he found your pathetic, needy display.

‘Are you, ready?’ you asked. Miguel looked down at your wide, hot, pleading face, and for the first time, he looked almost shy. He slowly nodded.

You gestured for him to lower his suit. Miguel did so silently, his eyes fixated on your face as you waited impatiently. He waved away the suit at his groin, and you watched as his hefty cock fell free in front of your face. You squeaked at the sight.

You weren’t exactly surprised by the size. He was clearly huge, veiny and uncut, but you’d been rather ruined by Mig’s extraordinary size and structure. His plush, soft, squishy phallus was unmatched.

You were shocked just because you were seeing it at all. What a filthy thing to do. Part of you still wondered if this was wrong, if this was a good idea, but your brain had been melted by lust until it was all that remained.

As Mig angled himself and began coyly puncturing your cunt with just the tip of his cock, you widened your lips into a wet, inviting little circle.

Miguel swallowed hard. He put one finger beneath your chin and slowly moved in, letting his member sit upon your lips. He seemed afraid that at any moment he’d be bitten.

You let out a moan and started to tongue him. He tasted unnervingly different to Mig, clean but slightly sweaty with a faint metallic tinge lingering on the skin from his holographic suit. You flicked on the tip and let his pre-cum smear your tongue. Thick, warm, just a little sweet.

‘Ay, Dios mio’ Miguel whimpered. The stoic monster was already submitting.

You swirled your tongue around his member and gingerly started to suck on him. Immediately, your eyes rolled back into your skull. God it felt so good. You strained for more, hungrily trying to lap at his shaft. His hand flew to your head.

‘Ah, perfecto/a—’

Miguel groaned out loud only for Mig to hiss in his face, instinctively drawing Miguel to hiss back. You had to buck your hips to settle the two down.

‘You—you do as he says’ you panted up at Miguel. He glanced down and eyed up your face in turn, noting the way you were trembling and jolting with each gentle thrust from your partner. The sight made him weak. He swallowed his pride and ducked his head.

‘Yes, sir’ he murmured.

Mig purred low as he pumped himself inside you. He made Miguel wait as punishment, forced to watch you mewl and whimper as the wet sound of your copulation filled the air, but after seeing how horny you were he relented. Mig gestured for Miguel to continue before letting out his own low groan of satisfaction as he pushed in deep.

Miguel grunted and spread his legs for stability. He put his thumb on your smooth, wet lower lip, and slowly pulled it down. He eased your jaw open before pushing his cock towards you.

You tensed up, hard, and caught his eye as he pushed it in. You felt his cock enter your mouth and audibly whined.

He let out a sound like he was being strangled. The pure, inescapable relief, it was overwhelming. Fuck, he was inside your mouth. He was being touched. He was fucking something.

He started to move the moment he felt the velvety lining of your mouth squishing his shaft.

So soft. So wet. Your tongue moving back and forth on the base of his shaft, combined with the soft sucking motion of your lips and throat, it made him want to cry. That big man was reduced to an absolute mess.

His clawed hands flew to your head for stability, but a hiss from Mig forced them back. He put his hands behind his head and internally strained to stay standing as you sucked on him. ‘A-Ah—so, so soft, so soft—'

‘Soft’ Mig repeated. He was fully inside your cunt now, his cock squishing back and forth against your walls as they quivered and clenched. His entire abdomen was bucking hard with each thrust, and the motion was unintentionally pushing you back and forth along Miguel’s shaft.

You were truly spit roasted between the two, penetrated on both sides by those enormous men who could both break your back with ease.

Fuck, it felt so good. This was heaven, and every bodily fluid involved here was your mana.

As you sucked on Miguel, you felt his hips starting to move of their own accord. He started to gingerly pump your throat. He wasn’t as big as Mig, but he was still so much more powerful than you, so rough and strong. You caught his abs tensing as he willed himself not to cum too fast.

He moved one hand from his head to your chin so he could feel it moving in your throat. Your eyes unintentionally locked.

You still retained your distaste for the man, and his smug little groans were grating, but there was something really pleasurable about having him fuck your mouth. You kind of liked submitting to him. You kind of liked this asshole getting his way, especially like this.

As he watched you his lips parted. ‘You like that?’ he whispered, smugly flashing a fang. You moaned in response.

‘Yeah, they like it’ Miguel breathed.

‘Mm… Good arañita’ Mig purred. ‘Are you having fun, mi tesoro? Do you feel better?’

You moaned louder, your cunt unintentionally clenching him tight. Mig’s deep groan resonated through the entire den. ‘A-Ah-- Tú eres el major, aranita. Ah… Is that small thing giving you a mouthful at least?’

His subtle jab made Miguel hiss, but he was quickly humbled once more. Mig withdrew his shaft about halfway out just to measure up against him, forcing Miguel to see the sheer size of that plush red cock dripping in pearly slick. You whined and bucked your hips, begging for him to put it back, and with a smug grunt Mig returned to pumping.

Miguel bit back his desire to bite the man’s throat. He wasn’t used to being the smaller man.

He relented to just being grateful he was being touched. No matter what, he got to fuck your mouth. He got to watch your bratty, difficult little face while you sucked his cock, mewling and moaning submissively, and that was truly enough.

He did a little test by pulling out, and sure enough you whimpered and strained to get it back. He pulled out inch by inch, until just that sweet, curved member was resting on your lips, and only when you pleaded did he slide it back in.

‘Ah… there you go’ he murmured smugly. ‘There you go. I’ll give you what you want.’

He didn’t need to breed you. He just needed you to beg once. He needed to be wanted.

In this messy, tense threesome you all continued to indulge. Miguel remained rigidly still as you played with his cock, coyly sucking and stroking and teasing as you wanted, while Mig pumped in and out of your pussy.

Your home was saturated with a musk so thick you could almost see it, taste it. You were drowning in the smell of sex, the taste of skin and cum, and the obscene soundscape of your own body being ravaged while you choked on Miguel’s shaft.

The tension just kept growing. You were losing all higher thought, dumbifying yourself to be their little breedable catch, relishing in the submission. It had, somehow, breached the divide between the two men, as they fixated solely on you and your pleasure.

At one point Mig pulled out just so he could lift your hips to his mouth and slather you with his affectionate tongue, eagerly lapping at your swollen clit as you continued sucking on Miguel. Your moans vibrated through his soul.

‘Mm.. Tengo un hambre de lobos, arañita. Quiero comerte’ Mig purred between licks. When you bucked your hips for more he chuckled. ‘Mm. Do you like that, mi tesoro?’

Your reply was muffled by Miguel’s cock, but he replied for you. ‘They—mm, they said—y-yes’ he grunted.

Mig paused. An intrusive thought filled his head, and while it disgusted him at first, his hormones pushed him to ask. ‘They… How do they feel?’ he purred.

Miguel whimpered. ‘Ah… a-amazing’ he confessed. ‘So… fucking, amazing—’

Mig rustled with perverse excitement. He began to raise himself back up, his enormous phallus throbbing and twitching in the cold air. He turned and curiously watched you moaning and deep throating Miguel as he slowly pushed his cock back inside you. He watched you squirm, your hips shifting and adjusting to the size, your hands tearing at the sheets as you screamed.

He let out a little rustle of satisfaction.

‘Would you prefer to be sucking on me, arañita?’ he asked, emphasising each word with a slow thrust. You nodded aggressively.

Miguel felt his stomach drop a little at the embarrassment, but Mig wasn’t finished.

‘Are you having fun though, mi tesoro? With your new toy?’ he asked.

Again, you nodded aggressively, your lips widening as you slathered Miguel from base to tip. You allowed your saliva to hang and drip from his veiny cock down onto the silk below.

Miguel almost whined out loud. That’s what he needed. Fuck, it was humiliating, but it was so worth it.

He could be a toy. He could be your toy. He gripped the back of his head and started pumping into your throat again.

‘A-Ah… F-Fuck, I’m—close—’

To his own personal disgust, he looked at you and Mig for permission to cum. You nodded eagerly at the idea, and Mig simply waved his hand. He was too busy riding out his own pleasure to care right now; he was on the verge of cumming inside you, of filling your womb with his hot seed, he didn’t care about that pathetic toy squirting in your mouth.

Miguel sighed with relief as he was given assent. He grabbed your head and started thrusting hard.

‘F-Fuck, oh— más duro, haz que me corra—!’

Miguel came violently, unloading god knows how much pent up cum into your throat. You took it all with nothing but a shocked squeak.

He grabbed and pulled your hair as he slathered your mouth and gullet with that thick load. It slid down hard, and you were forced to swallow the entire time he pumped to stop it overflowing.

And then, right as you were choking on Miguel’s seed, Mig ejaculated inside you. You were thrown between them like a rag doll, like a true little cum dumpster, filled from every angle. Mig thrust hard to paint your cervix with his seed which pushed you forward onto Miguel’s shaft.

It was too much. Even without outside stimulation you managed to shudder into your own brutal orgasm. You clenched Mig so hard he rasped at the feeling, your little body shaking and spasming with pleasure. Your screams were muffled by Miguel’s shaft, but he felt your throat vibrating.

‘Good—good arañita, that’s it’ Mig panted frantically. ‘Good, good little arañita, that’s it. You enjoy yourself.’

When they’d both emptied themselves they slowed and slowly pulled out, leaving you to collapse into the sheets. You were immediately showered with kisses and praise from Mig while Miguel fell to his knees.

He was euphoric. The man almost fell into a full prayer position as he lulled in the sweet relief you’d offered.

You expected that to be it. You’d quelled the beast, you’d achieved a kind of stalemate. But it wasn’t over.

As you lay back and let Mig continue his gentle aftercare, you began to realize that the heat hadn’t passed. It was still in your veins. You continued whining, mewling, wiggling your hips for attention. The two men could feel that brief emptiness beginning to build up again.

It was as if there was a pressure inside their bodies that they had to expel, that they needed to unload into you. It was painful, weighty, a physical need.

The more sweet, wet little noises escaped your mouth, the more they seemed to involuntarily converge on you. You felt Mig at your back gently rustling his abdomen, and you felt Miguel starting to crawl towards your front. You felt their breath on your skin, their hungry eyes gawking.

You were spread out before them, naked and warm, your body coated in little beads of sweat. They could see the pearly strings of slick between your thighs.  It was glistening, smooth. You must be so wet by now.

The tension peaked, like a jar teetering on the edge of a table. The two Miguel’s locked eyes.

The jar fell, and it smashed. They dove at you.

This time there was some snapping and scratching, some territorial hissing as you were tugged back and forth, but your desperate whining and their new-found pack dynamic helped to soothe their instinctive need to fight. Instead, you were grabbed and squished between the two of them at once.

‘Help me prepare them’ Mig barked, and Miguel obeyed.

Miguel held your hips as Mig spread your legs, lifting you up until you were in the right spot for penetration. They used Miguel’s webbing to hang you from the roots above, maintaining your weight in the air, and Mig used his sticky webs to keep your legs stuck to his abdomen. He trapped you in a bondage tie against him, just like when he’d soaked in you, and Miguel used his hands to hold your torso as he positioned himself at your back.

You felt Mig as he forced his cock back up inside you, squishing your overstimulated muscles aside, while Miguel began prepping against your ass. He used his webs to drag over a pot of that pain relieving gel you’d been prescribed. He smeared it over his entire shaft, so thick it dripped off the tip, and with a soft grunt he began lining himself up with your anus.

You let out a soft gasp. You were being distracted by Mig who was already busy slowly moving inside you, so you only barely noticed Miguel’s member probing at your rear. But he didn’t tease for long.

‘Can I—Can I penetrate, here, sir?’ Miguel panted. Mig nodded, clearly too preoccupied with breeding you to care. As you whimpered in their grip Miguel pressed his lips against your neck.

‘May I fuck you, little spider?’ he hissed.

‘Y-Yes.’

‘Has anyone fucked you here before?’ he whispered. Embarrassed, you shook your head.

‘N-No.’

‘Okay. Don’t freak out. I need you, to stay still for me’ Miguel murmured in your ear. ‘Stay still, and try to loosen up’ he purred, before pumping himself inside you.

You immediately tensed up at the sensation. You had to fight to loosen for him, even with that much lube, as his cock’s size was suddenly very noticeable. He forced your muscles to make room from him.

‘MM—mm, that’s it, that’s it, come on—’

He bottomed out with a desperate growl, his claws digging deep into your hips.

You felt everything. The sweat on his abs where they’d pressed into your spine, his muscular hairy thighs against your own, his heavy balls crushed against your ass, and his shaft, gently throbbing inside you. A desperate whimper escaped your lips.

You realized, in your lust, you’d just given your anal virginity to him. Miguel’s groaning let you know that he’d noticed that too. ‘F-Fuck… Fuck, so fucking tight—’

You gasped as his breath hit your neck. You could smell the hunger on him, the desperation, and the allure.

This stupid little spider, this whiny brat, now giving him a taste of what he’d craved for so long. He breathed in your scent and trembled; what a stupidly adorable little thing, he thought. Part of him just wanted to praise you, to berate you, to worship you.

But that part of him was quickly pushed aside. The higher mind was subdued, and all that remained was pure, primal, animal lust. He started to rut the moment he was settled inside you.

‘Uhn—f-fuck, finally—’

His voice peaked as he started thrusting. You felt the power in his hips as they started clapping you from behind, pulsing in and out of that tight hole. The feel of your ass bouncing each time he hit it made him almost weep.

‘Ah—c-careful, please’ you begged.

‘Mm—must, breed you’ he whined. Mig paused and hissed at him again, and this time Miguel willingly backed down. His lust was malforming, adapting to his subservient role just to feed itself.

‘Yes, sir’ he whined. ‘You breed them, sir.’

‘Good’ Mig snapped. He continued humping between your legs as Miguel gently thrust at you from behind. ‘They’re mine.’

The glow of their conjoined gaze was blinding. Red light pulsing in your vision as they skewered you, pumped you, smearing every inch of you with precum and sweat.

‘You want me to breed you, arañita?’ Mig purred.

‘Fuck- breed them good’ Miguel groaned. You felt Mig grasp your jaw in his hand.

‘You were made for O’Hara cum’ he hissed, utterly lost to pleasure. ‘You were made to be stuffed with these genes, arañita. My perfect mate. I want you saturated with it.’

‘You—craved it so much, you couldn’t stand having just one, huh?’ Miguel hissed in tandem, letting out a breathy laugh. You could feel them both crushing you from the front and back as they rhythmically pumped. You were small, helpless, frail between them. You rasped with each shaky moan.

‘Mi arañita’ Mig purred, ‘you sure you don’t want me to breed you for real?’

‘They want to be bred’ Miguel panted. You felt his lips near your neck, his claws on your hips. ‘They need it. I can smell it in them. Their body wants it.’

In the hazy mist of pure degeneracy the two men dissolved into moaning, thrusting animals, grunting and desperately kissing across your face and neck. Mig bent forward to tenderly brush his tongue against your own while Miguel nibbled and kissed your shoulder from behind.

They snapped at each other occasionally, but now even that was a form of sexual gratification. Miguel had lost all boundaries, and he was willing to be the beta if it meant he could vicariously breed you. They had the same DNA, after all, and he was still pumping you regardless.

He’d snap just to get Mig to bare his larger, more terrifying fangs, all for the thrill of backing down.

And you, in the middle, were struggling to even breath. You were being pulverised from both ends, stretched to your limits and fucked until it was all you could feel. Your legs had gone numb, your hands were tingling with pins and needles, and all you could focus on was the two, veiny, weighty cocks twitching and pulsing against your guts.

There was no coming back from this.

‘Can’t- believe, I get to breed with you’ Mig whined. ‘Perfect little spider—’

‘Let—let me take off the patch’ Miguel breathed. Mig purred loudly, his abdomen shaking with excitement. ‘Yes’ he panted, ‘yes, they need breeding properly.’

You squirmed between the two men as they crushed you. They both had elated, almost ravenous expressions, their lips drawn back into the same desperate, dreamlike smile.

‘W-Wait— Mmm, fuck—’

Your face was sweaty from their conjoined breath and the toll this constant movement was taking on your body, and you were struggling to get any word out.

‘We’re gonna breed you, pretty little thing’ Miguel purred, his voice husky as he blurted his most perverse thoughts. ‘Little brood mare, time to grow an O’Hara in you.’

‘F-Fuck—’ You squirmed harder and screamed with pleasure as they both continued to erratically pump you. They were feeding into each other’s delusional fantasies.

‘Mm—Arañita, don’t you want it?’

You were losing your mind like this. There was nothing but them, nothing but their pleading, nothing but the thick, primal drive between the three of you. You felt yourself going dumb.

‘Ah… y-yes’ you blurted.

‘You want to be bred?’

‘Y-Yes’

‘You want my cum in you, arañita?’

‘Y-Yes!’

‘MM—Fuck, give it to them’ Miguel snapped. ‘Fucking pump them—’

‘Oh I will’ Mig panted. ‘Come here, you beautiful little creature—’

The two started thrusting harder, rhythmically rocking your body back and forth between their own. You were totally crushed into stillness, your body moving without any input from you, leaving you to feel in perfect detail what they were about to do.

You could feel them pulsing in and out together, separated by the thinnest bit of skin, nudging at your insides as they quivered from the overstimulation. You could that your thighs were completely sodden at this point. You were dripping with slick, with cum, with pain relief gel, even with sweat, to the point that you looked like you’d just exited a pool.

You weren’t sure how much more you could take. You clung tight to Mig as he cradled and fucked you.

‘Shh, shh, here we go—here we go—you just take it, mi tesoro, that’s it, just take it—’

‘F-Fuck I’m close—’ Miguel cried.

In near unison the two men ejaculated inside you.

It was far too much for you to handle, but luckily they were in tune enough with your body and hormones to sense that. Miguel had the sense to pull out and keep only the tip inside you, instead pumping his cock with his own fist as he spurted each thick rope into that tight space.

Mig, too, pulled back a little to make room, and supplied you with short, gentle bursts as each squirt of seed pulsed up through his shaft. You were filled, yes, but not so much as to be unbearable. You were allowed to lull and enjoy the feeling of each fat cock gently expanded and throbbing that warm, soothing seed inside you. You could enjoy their joint, frantic breath on your skin, their pitiable whining and grateful kisses.

Once utterly spent the two pulled out slowly and cut the webs, allowing you to go back down to the mattress. Mig stayed with you, your body safe and cradled in his arms, while Miguel collapsed onto the edge of the bed.

The man fought to catch his breath. It felt as if every scrap of energy he had was gone, but as the fog on his brain cleared, he scraped together what willpower he could to glance at you across the bed. He noticed the patch was still in place.

‘Oh, thank, fuck—you idiot’ he whispered beneath his breath, letting out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t fucked up that badly.

At this point the heat had truly been subdued. He could feel the emptiness at last, the relief of that weight lifted from his shoulders. For all the weird, conflicted feelings he had about what he’d just done, the sheer relief trumped them all. He’d have done so much worse just for this. The feeling of being empty, of having mated, it was all he wanted. He lay back and closed his eyes.

On the other side, Mig was busy nestling your cheek. He was focused on keeping you comfortable, ensuring you smelled healthy and weren’t in any pain. He kissed your jaw and nestled into your hair, and in response you shakily put your hand on his cheek.

‘I-I’m okay’ you whispered. ‘I’m okay.’

‘Are you sure, arañita?’

‘Y-Yeah. I’m sure.’

You went quiet for a moment as you nuzzled each other, showing through affectionate that you were both okay and on good terms. His human hands pet at your waist, rubbing you with his calloused thumb, while his sharp nose nestled against your brow.

‘You are… mine?’ he whispered. You nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, of course. I’m yours, Mig. Always. Are you, okay?’

He nodded as well, his lips still parted as he panted. ‘Y-Yes. Yes, I think so.’

‘Are… are you sure?’

You couldn’t deny that part of you felt a little guilty for what you’d asked them to do, even if they’d gotten into it. It was strange. You felt like you shouldn’t have done it, but it’d felt so good it was hard to understand why you felt that way.

Mig hummed and looked from you to Miguel.

The man wasn’t making any moves towards you. He was laying on his back, breathing in the relief.  

As strange as it was, he did feel like he’d found some state of resolution. They were both satisfied finally, which had by itself eased a large amount of the tension between them. He had, technically, followed orders. He had even broken and supported his desire to mate with you.

It hadn’t solved everything, but seeing Miguel wallow in acknowledgment of his hypocrisy, to have had him bow his head and support you both so strongly as to have participated in your copulation, it was definitely a start.

It still felt a little tense, and undoubtedly awkward now that the thrill was done, but it didn’t feel bad, and perhaps right now that was the best they could ask for.

Miguel must have noticed him looking, as he slowly opened one eye. The two locked gazes.

‘Ah…. Hey. Thank you’ Miguel said. Mig’s eyes widened. He seemed too surprised to even give a reply, so Miguel just let out a breathy chuckle.

‘I can think. Finally, fuck, I can think clearly.’

‘You… This doesn’t mean—’

‘I know. They’re yours’ Miguel said, easily catching Mig’s main concern. The spider growled. ‘I know they don’t want me, and I don’t need them. It’s fine. I just—I needed to stop that, fucking, pain—’

He ran a hand down his face as Mig’s eyes darted across his body. Bit by bit, he lessened the tension in his body. He didn’t need to fight.

‘It is… quite, painful. I still recall very well my seasonal ruts when I was isolated, it was… agony’ Mig replied, offering a branch of sympathy. Miguel took it with a similarly cold grunt. ‘It is… awful. Yeah.’ His eyes turned then from Mig to you, locking onto your exhausted eyes. For just a second, they looked soft.

‘Thank you’ he repeated. You just awkwardly nodded. How else did you respond? It was so strange, just lying in the bedroom beside this man you’d hated, who’s cum was now sliding in pretty streaks down your back after being pumped into your ass.

You caught him admiring your body for a moment, but you saw no hunger in him. He wasn’t starving for you. All you could make out was a kind of quiet gratitude, and maybe a little physical attraction.

‘Ah… Okay. I should go’ Miguel said. He rose to his feet with a couple of stumbling steps before phasing his suit back on, covering up any evidence of what he’d done.

‘You—you’ll still help us, right?’ you asked. Miguel nodded without turning his head.

‘Yes. I don’t lie. I stand by my word. Just, uh—avoid me, please, until your heats over. You could, set me off again, and… I like being satisfied, right now. I want to keep this.’

With those final words he drew up a portal and left you Mig’s aftercare, stepping back out into the cool dusk of Nueva York. He breathed in the empty, city air and sighed.

He wasn’t sure how he’d react. Now out of that haze, that mist, would be guilty? Angry? Unsatisfied? Jealous?

No. He just smiled a little to himself, and then made his way back inside. For now, at least, he was truly satisfied.

Link to next part

[doeilovr]

hello! are you open for request? i kinda want to request something but it has a lil bit of smut but you can do it your way if you're not really comfortable with it.

soo it's where jaehyun and the reader just cuddle and embrace each other's warmness, blabbering sweet nothings even praising each other and telling how lucky they are to be together.

that's all, if by any chance you are interested in writing this, i hope you enjoy it. thank you for the chance so i can send the request. im in love with how you write jaehyun stories so i thought you would rock this one too hehe. thank u once again, hoping u have a lovely days ahead!

summer mornings

-> Jaehyun x reader, fluff, 660 words

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You blinked your eyes open, still feeling jet lagged after your long flight the day before. You barely remember arriving at the hotel and checking into the room - somehow you made it though. Both you and your boyfriend Jaehyun immediately brushed your teeth - the suitcases parked somewhere in a corner of the room - and went straight to bed.

Now it was some hours later, the sun was already shining through the windows. A soft and fresh breeze caressed your skin. You sat up in bed and looked around, the doors to the balcony were open, white curtains gently swining in the wind. You got a sneek peak of the mediterranean sea, somewhere in Italy.

You heard shuffling and voices, but somehow you could not stop staring out of the window. It had its perks to being able to tavel with your international model boyfriend.

A shuffling sound made you eventually turn around, to find Jaehyun looking as gorgeous as ever, no shirt, just pyjama pants. You did not question anything, but welcomed the breakfast tray he was holding with a smile.

"Ciao bella", he said with a deep voice and sweet smile. You could have melted right there and then.

"What do we got there. Looking good."

Jaehyun put the tray on a table beside the bed. It had several pastries and an assortment of fresh fruit. Juice and coffee made everything smell amazing.

"In case your hungry, I ordered us breakfast." He sat down on the bed.

"I was not talking about the food", you smiled cheekily, grabbing his face and kissing him softly. There was nothing better than kissing Jaehyun and his soft lips. They tasted like orange and you suspected he already snacked on his way from the door to the bed.

"I missed you", he whispered. You knew it was ridiculous to say this, as you were literally sleeping next to him all night. It was maybe five minutes when he got up to freshen up and get the door that he did not see you. But you loved it.

"I missed you too", you smiled and kissed him again. The kissing intesified and before you knew it Jaehyun climbed on top of you, now kissing you a lot harder.

You relaxed under him, your hands roaming over his muscular back and then back to his defined abs. He was definitely crafted by the god himself.

You glanced up at Jaehyun, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. His eyes got darker and were full of hunger. For you or the freshly baked lemon roll next to you, you were not quiet sure. Probably both.

Jaehyun smiled gently. "You look beautiful. What do you say we eat some breakfast on the balcony first, before the coffee gets cold." You only nodded, before he continued. "And then we can come back to this."

You bit your lip and smiled. With Jaehyun still on top of you like this, feeling the heat of his body and his bare skin, you honestly could not really think straight.

"Or even better, after breakfast we could take a bath or shower."

Jaehyun nodded, waiting for you to finish your sentence. "And then?"

"No, that was it. We can take a bath or shower. But like, together."

Jaehyun's eyes widened. "Oh, well, yeah", he stuttered. Even after being together with you for a while, he was still surprised everytime you made such suggestions.

He got up quickly, fixing his hair, before he grabbed the breakfast tray and carried it to the table on the balcony. "Come on", he invited you.

You sat up in bed an watched him, smiling. He seemed in a rush, pouring some coffee and snacking on a slice of peach. "Hurry, let's eat fast, so we can take a bath."

Now you were laughing and even Jaehyun couldn't hold back. Safe to say it was a quick breakfast and a long, very long, bath afterwards.

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a/n: hello my guys :) so, this is a jaehyun request and although i couldn't do the smut i hope you still like it.. i love a jaehyun one shot and thank you for the lovely request <3

[starlost97]

— melt.

summary: After seeing how heartbroken the families of the people who work for the department get when they die, you decided to not get involved with anyone. You didn't expect, however, to have that ice wall melted away by someone — Jay Halstead — in your own unit. And when Jay got hurt in one of the cases, you couldn't help but be mad at him, and it didn't take long for him to figure out the why.

keywords: fluff, personal favorite, kind of grumpy x sunshine trope, Jay Halstead is a smug bastard, gn!reader.

characters: Jay Halstead.

warnings: mention of near-death experience, swearing.

a/n: wrote this after episode 7 of the Percy Jackson series (hence the Asphodels mention) at 2AM. I was actually going to request that but I ended up wanting to write it myself! hope u like it :)

word count: 1,248.

requested?: no.

Grumpy, reserved, quiet. All words used to describe you. And they weren't really that mistaken.

There was a thick ice wall between you and the rest of the world. A wall that didn't allow you to build any deeper relationship with anyone. One that burned people with its overwhelming coldness.

A wall that you build it yourself a little over a month after entering the Chicago's Intelligence Unit. Specifically after you watched how destroyed a family felt after losing a relative who worked for the department.

You felt selfish for even thinking of getting emotionally involved with someone. What if something happened to you? To them? You would never forgive yourself. You'd be rooted in the Asphodels Meadows — trapped with your own regret for all eternity — if anything ever happened because of you.

Everything was going well with it. You weren't that happy, but you were happier than you would be if you carried all the guilt of putting a loved one in danger.

But you never could prepare yourself to the warmth of Jay Halstead.

How cheeky of you to fall in love with a sweet smile. But it was true. You felt pathetically helpless any time he laughed at your jokes and showed you his teeth.

It was bittersweet. His laugh sounded like heaven and it made your life a living hell. How could you not be selfish? How could you think of being a good person when he was so close to you?

You tried to rationalized it. Tried to think that he wasn't that good. That perfect. That it was just your love-starved brain romanticizing him to tempt you.

Which lead you to the mistake of getting to know him.

Everything got worse.

The attempt of hating his flaws turned out to realizing that his loyalty was too much for his own good. He would mindlessly die for you, without a second thought or regret. How intoxicating.

He was like a honey-flavored poison. The sweetest way to lose yourself forever.

And unfortunately, you tasted him. Not only that, but it was never enough. You couldn't get enough of him. He became everything.

So when he almost died during one of the cases because he risked himself a little too much to get information, you were mad.

"Will you tell me why you're not talking to me?" He asked you, leaning over your desk and tilting his head, letting out a sigh. "Come on, I could've died and you won't even talk to me?"

"It's exactly because of that." You murmured, annoyed, not looking at him.

"What? I didn't hear you." Jay said, getting closer.

"It's because of that!" You said, now louder. You two were alone in the office. You were finishing up some papers while Jay — who couldn't for the life of him be separated from you for more than a couple hours — made you company.

"You're not talking to me because I risked myself?" Jay asked, confused, watching as you got up from the chair and went to the break room.

"I'm not talking to you because you're irresponsible!" You answered, finally looking at him in the eyes. Your bodies facing one another.

"I did it for the case! We needed the info!" Jay argued and you groaned, massaging your temples.

"Oh, my God, you really don't understand, do you?" You brushed your hands against your face, trying to calm yourself down.

"No, I don't. You do things like that all the time, and usually is worse. But when I do it, I'm irresponsible?" He asked, frowning.

He looked at you, trying to understand what was wrong. You weren't like this. You didn't fight with people unless their actions harm the case. So what was happening?

It was when the realization hit.

You were worried.

"Detective," He called, flashing you that damned smile that you so desired to kiss. "are you mad because I could've died?"

"Wha- What? No!" You mumbled, taking a step back as he approached you.

"Oh, yeah?" He mumbles, smiling smugly at you. "Are you sure of that?" He asks, getting closer and closer.

"Y-Yes, I am! If you died, it would've been a loss for the team and all the time and money that they invested on you would go to waste and-" You gulped, feeling the cold wall against your back and watching as he trapped you, putting his arms on each side of your face. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You said, nervously pushing his chest, but not really wanting him to leave.

"Like what?"

"Like that! Staring at my lips! Stop it!"

"Or what?" He asked, smugly.

Your breath got stuck in your throat, and as the seconds went by, he got closer. His forehead was soon touching yours, and his smile only grew bigger.

"Looks just like a dream I had." He said, putting his hand on your chin. "It ended very well. "

You didn't answer right away, trying to process your thoughts. You wanted to give a good answer, something that would make him go away — even though you didn't really want that —, but a wave of curiosity hit you with the revelation that he dreamt of you.

"How so?" Your voice was almost inaudible.

"I got to do more than just kiss you." He whispered, as if telling a secret. "But I think that just being able to kiss you would already make me the luckiest man on earth."

Your gaze fell to his lips, and just the thought of kissing them got you nervous. Your heartbeat rapidly beating against your chest, and for a moment he thought that he could feel it too.

But it was actually his own.

"Please," He asked. It could be mistaken for a beg, but the smug look on his face said otherwise. "detective."

"I thought…" You were breathless. Your nervousness didn't let you speak properly, but still, for some reason, you knew exactly what to say.

"Say it."

"I thought you were a man of action," You breathed out. "detective."

He smiled.

His hands — painfully — slowly went to the nape of your neck, holding it as he pressed his lips against yours, devouring it slowly, torturing you with it.

The kiss was the epitome of breathtaking. His lips moved slow and tenderly against yours, savouring you like it was his last meal.

He could live the rest of his life devoting himself to kissing you. How could it taste so sweet?

Jay wasn't much of a religious man, and he was even farther of believing in Greek gods. But as he felt your body against his and your sweet kiss on his lips, he was sure that you must be Aphrodite's work.

Masterpiece, actually.

His hands traveled around your body, feeling your curves, trying to memorize it so he didn't feel so sad when they weren't against his fingertips — even though that he knew it would be his life's biggest torment.

And he got a taste of it when he had to part himself from your lips.

"What were you saying, baby?" He asked, with a smug smile on his face.

"Fuck you, Jay Halstead." You said before kissing him again, feeling his smile melt against your mouth as your fingers intertwined his hair.

"You wish." He mumbled against your lips, lifting you up by your thighs and wrapping them around his waist.

Jay warmth was definitely more than enough to melt the ice wall away.

[waechan]

nct dream hyung line; small moments

just little moments with each member.

fluff, slight angst (mostly cute)

⋆.˚

lee mark:

you two have been best friends since birth

he knows everything about you, and you know everything about him

he has a soft spot for you, confessed when you found him pacing at your doorstep one day with flowers

pretty quiet at school, sorta nerdy, but cute nerdy!

likes computers, plays basketball for fun

always sends you game pigeon as an excuse to develop conversation (even though you two are already dating)

plays guitar for you to help you fall asleep

you sing along with him sometimes and he always stares at you, smiling softly

works at his friends moms daycare and helps check the kids in and out

its late, 1 in the morning, and he calls you

you pickup, his voice is groggy

"can you come over?"

"of course."

you're there in an instant, you open the door, and you see him standing there in his pjs, looking lost

immediately you walk over, hug him tight, and he holds you, refusing to let go

"what's wrong?"

"i don't know what i'd do without you."

it's all he says, and it's all he needs to say.

"i love you too, mark."

2. huang renjun:

he was your tutor, and hated you, actually.

well, before you two started dating. and he fell for you without realizing. and you made him confess because you were tired of him being stubborn.

you were social, he wasn't

that's really all there was to it

you two basically competed for teachers pet privileges

it didn't start out that way, but you two got competitive for no reason

obviously he was smarter than you

"can you just shut up and listen to me for once?"

"can you just man up and admit you have feelings for me?"

yep, that's how it went.

he blushed

stumbled over his words.

you kissed him

he fell even harder.

little bickering moments like this always reoccurred in your lives, and sometimes people were convinced you actually hated each other

one day the two of you hang out with some of your mutual friends

you leave the cafe after having an intense debate about whether or not mint chocolate chip ice cream is overrated or not, leaving your friends behind after you had to go

"honestly, it tastes like toothpaste."

"can you just agree with your girlfriend? that's all there is to it."

he holds your hand and kisses the back of it as the two of you walk back, and nods

"yes maam."

3. lee jeno:

he was every girls dream

how did you manage to end up with someone like him?

by far the most popular guy at your school

everyone he looked at managed to become flustered

you were the sweet, yet quiet girl in the back

he still noticed you, every day he would look back at you without you noticing

one day, you were having a hard day

you just wanted to go home, wanted to sleep, wanted to forget about all the events that had happened prior which took a negative toll on your health

you see a piece of paper fall on your desk and the silhouette of jeno's shadow passes by

you look up and see him staring at you across the room

he nods

"open it." he mouths, his eye smile appears

you do so, and you immediately smile as you see what's inside

"turn that smile upside down!"

god, of course he had one chance and messed it up. it was so cliche, yet so jeno

and you didn't care that it was a bit on the cheesy side

you walk by him at the end of class

"i think you meant frown?" he gives you a look of confusion.

"wha- oh. oh shit."

popular jock, quiet girl. observer, and recipient.

sometimes though he needs help from you too

one night he stops by without even telling you

he walks through the door, hugs you, and pulls you into the living room

"nap time. please." he sounded so tired, so done.

you chuckle.

angel sent from above. that's what he was.

4. lee haechan:

best friends older brother

shouldnt even be an option tbh

but haechan was haechan, his teasing made you blush, his small acts of care for you never went unnoticed

the three of you went to a cafe

your best friend ordered, then went to the restroom

you ordered your drink

he pushed you to the side

ordered his drink as well

paid for you like nothing happened

"haechan you really didn't have to-"

he puts a finger to his lips as his eyes twinkle, and he smiles gently at you

"i wanted to"

fast forward

you're official and he will not leave your side

always attached to you, in public he glares at any guy who stares at you for a millisecond too long

you walk into a clothing store and the worker smiles at you

"hi, do you need help finding anything?"

haechan pops out of nowhere and grabs your hand

"uh, no, i think we're good, thanks."

he pulls you away immediately

"what was that for??? he was just asking for help..." you whine

"nuh uh, no he wasn't. i know how guys work."

you chuckle. just go with it.

whatever makes him happy.

⋆.˚

let me know if you want the maknae line version! it's my first post on tumblr:) i am taking suggestions as well

[miyaur]

oohhh i love your blog!! how about some morning sex headcanons with albedo, ayato, kaeya and cyno?

⟢ a rising sunset in the east ft. albedo, ayato, kaeya, & cyno ・synopsis. early mornings, busy afternoons, it all calling for intimacy in the bright sun rays through the cracks of the curtains that spill onto the floor, and slow sensual sex at the crack of dawn, right before he goes. ・notes. ugliest and cutest color combo ive ever made, #696969 for the win tho, bro why did i ever think writing was easy without fancy ahh words. day ii: im losing it, i cant write dom albedo, its ok i tried ・warnings. nsfw, morning sex, gn!reader, dom & sub!reader, dom & sub!character, strap/cock mentioned

THE ALCHEMIST: ALBEDO ・such a sweetheart honestly! wants to make those little moments between you two at least somewhat sweet, but he can't help but whimper at the way you went so slowly up and down his cock. and damn did it feel good. probably likes cowgirl / missionary the most. probably has a lot of stamina too! could go on 'till night time again if you wanted him to. orgasms too easily though, so overstimulation with him can barely be avoided. likes to call you an angel, or just basic petnames (i.e. love, darling, dear, etc., he's really cheesy). pretty loud in bed if i don't say so myself. like dom or sub, either way he whimpers and groans a ton, gets turned a whole bunch when you moan, lets him know you like it too yk? ・oh and if you the one pegging/thrusting him from behind or what, do wtv u can to his nipples, he likes that. like a lot. tug on them, rub them, like just doing that and being the one pounding his ass and he'll fall in love, praise him while doing it, tell him he's a good boy and you are on your way to make him orgasm another time. probably real sensitive too, like i said he is prone to orgasming a bit early into sex, like after tugging on his nips for a bit he probably will come as soon as that dick/strap come inside of him!!! anyway back to srs writing, he loves praise a lot, do that and rub his nipples, he'll come untouched. more sensitive in the mornings btw ・aftercare w him is soo soft, like he'll make sure you're both showered and stuff, makes sure you're okay, continuosly asks actually, cuddles you to sleep, before he goes in the morning, forehead kiss and goes out the door feeling like a man with the greatest partner ever.

THE YASHIRO COMMISIONER: KAMISATO AYATO ・likes being in control, any position will do honestly, whatever you're most comfortable with. major tease & wastes 0 time, wastes 0 time is going drunk on your taste, i feel like he's more into sucking/eating you off/out, doesn't have the energy to rail the fuck out of your hole, but maybe a taste of you could give him more energy, yk? gets so drunk on your taste he almost doesn't realize you've already came and your cock/pussy is already off his mouth, will probably overstimulate you a bit too, maybe even edge you a bit after that. ・degrades you like no tomorrow, but likes being degraded when you're the one pegging/thrusting into his ass. likes being punished too, probably the type to go "i'm too tired for this" when you ask if he's your slut to purposely piss you off. will gladly bounce on your dick/strap though, absolutey goes crazy on it, please place hickeys on his neck, show everyone that he belongs to you when he goes out <3 ・loves aftercare, loves also to shower kisses on your back while you both get ready for the morning activities, and as long as you ask for it he'll get for you, makes sure everything you want and need it there for you while he isn't there, so a kiss to your forehead, and he's out the door, and those little things that you had kept your eye on but don't wanna go out anytime soon? he'll get it as soon as possible! just sit tight, and wait for him, that's all he needs from you.

THE CALVARY CAPTAIN: KAEYA ALBERICH ・god damn, he is definitely a big tease while you sleepily ride his cock, your eyes barely open, pleasure running all throughout your body, your hands on his chest, the only thing that really helped your body up, and kaeya can't help but groan, you felt so ethereal, it made him feel like he's falling in love with you all over again. he just needed this before work, just needed you this one more time, he's been almost too busy, it took too long this time for a single mission to be completed, he's glad you can help him relieve his stress! ・probably praises you immensely, and whatever position is okay as long as neither of you have to move that much. pound him while his face is in a pillow, literal praise prince, seriously loves praise so bad, tell him he's being such a good boy taking all of you in. his loud moans in pleasure echoing through the hallway, loves even more if you fuck him in front of a mirror, seeing how much of a mess you've made him, gets turned on so bad, even if it's just you jerking him off, your smooth hands running over his red tip, aa just please keep going!! ・the type of guy to call you mommy/daddy, just depends how far you guys are into it (as in round wise yes.) anyways, aftercare is a dream!! so gentle with you honestly, getting showered with him is so heavenly too, smooth talker plus showering you with affection? such a sweetheart, and if you really can't walk after like in the other headcannons i made for ayato, he'd go for errands for anything that you need, but not 'till 8am, it's still 6am, he'll stay with you for a bit. just a bit 'till he goes.

THE GENERAL MAHAMATRA: CYNO ・WAAA baby is so sensitive, literally just touching all over his cock for a bit makes him wanna cum soo bad, just say the word and he will paint your hands white <33!! his drowsy eyes could barely keep up with the speed of how fast of a pace your hands were going up and down his dick, spurts cum everywhere honestly, kinda heavy load everytime he does too. will let you dominate him in the morning, doesn't really care ・make him choke on your fingers if he's being too loud, definitely likes getting degraded, but praise isn't out of the choices. a mix of everything, really, just don't let it be related to gory stuff, makeout with him and jerk him off, and he'll be off happier than ever. sensitive all over, just seriously do anything to him, more prone to cum just by you stroking him. ・if he does end up being a dom, lots of praise and kisses, really just soft thrusts into you. the belly bulge on your tummy is really what keeps him going, seeing how much of his seed is inside you, holds your hand throughout most of the rounds too, lowkey arrives late to work because of aftercare with you. ・treats you like a queen/king, reminds you all the time how much he loves you and cares about you, that's why he doesn't go that hard during sex, wants to make sure you're comfortable, likes to hold you in the shower, just you and him.

you can tell i was dying while writing this it's kinda icky too so mb.... cg on 700 followers for me ig.......

[rosemarycovet]

In my room- billy loomis x reader

(billys pov)

“are you gonna let me in?

“hello?helllooo?”I heard tapping from my window knowing exactly who it was

I was trying not the drift off in class as stu rambled about some nonsense when 2:45 the bell went off

thank god I thought to my self I got up and quickly left the class room speed walking through the halls with my head held low

I didn’t bother acknowledging anyone

many people think i’m odd just because I keep to my self I only talk to stu and our ‘friend group’

which are other people I don’t consider worthy of my time

but I mostly walk alone

avoiding girls that gush over me and the pathetic boys at school trying to start small talk with me

as I walk out the school building I avoid the sunlight with my chalky tone

some may say i’m a gaslighter and manipulative which they aren’t wrong

with my ‘piercing eyes’

I get home I don’t say anything

like there’s anyone to greet ain’t no one there

my mother had abandoned me

and my father is barely ever home,I don’t care.I walk in and right up stairs to my room

I go straight to bed take a quick nap and just wait patiently until dark because that’s when the real show starts

———————

‘Tap tap tap’

———————

I hear from my window I smirk knowing exactly who it is

I see her

(y/n).my baby is what I like to call her

she’s as beautiful as ever as she gives me a sweet soft smile

she’s young and pretty

she comes to my room and we talk at night

she’s demonic and bloody in my eyes

but she holds me tight every night i’m in my bedroom with her i’m never alone

and I kiss her cold lips until morning comes then she’s gone and i’m off

but she only exists in the dark of my room

as me and my ‘friends’ are sitting at the fountain for lunch I sit next to stu as randy sits in the middle of stu and tatum and Sidney is next to tatum

god how much I hate Sidney she’s the reason my mom left me

yet she doesn’t even know

I kept catching her staring at me yet pretended as if I didn’t notice

I know she likes me it’s obvious

but my feelings are the opposite for her

I wish she would die

I wish I could kill her right now

I have planned to kill her with the rest of the group but making stu my partner

there’s so much of sidney I can’t stand same with the rest of them as they talk about meaningless stuff

and all I can think about is my love

I’d do anything for her

as me and her laid in my bed I do adore her as I said before I’d do anything for her and it’s always in my room that we’re the closes

I try to smile but i’m always frontin

but I do love her and at least that’s something.She doesn’t talk much but when she does it gets cold

usually we just lay there and we hold eachother

we’re lovers we don’t need others

certainly i’m all she needed and she is everything I need I don’t need anyone else but her

one night one of my mother’s cat that she also had abandoned had jumped up on the covers

and it scared my baby,cause she don’t like pets.

she had scrambled out of the room

It had made my blood boil that the cat had frighten my baby so I twisted it’s fucking head of its neck

“look baby it’s bloody it’s gone it’s doomed” I had cried out to her

“please come back to the room..don’t ignore me” I begged her

this was more than a sick love story

If she was ever to leave me or was left with out her I’d bring a gun shot to school

and I will for any reason if she wants me to

I hate it that she has to leave when the light comes on and if I had it my way the fucking sun would be gone

sometimes when we’re kissing I start shaking when she slips me that tongue it taste like bacon

she looks sad

uh-oh something wrong.my baby’s upset

“baby what’s wrong?” I asked her as I tuck a strain of her hair behind her ear

“billy one of the neighbors kid had spotted me sneaking in and now I can’t come back cause they know our secret”

unless I can make them keep it if I do she’ll still be able to come

the next day i’m in their backyard as I slipped my ghost face costume on with a shotgun and knife

cut the screen,I went and found the kid

blew a blow of spaghetti to the side of it’s head Then their daddy was next he ran down the hall as I chased after him he was quick to fall as I shredded his throat.

I gripped the knife and started stabbing the shit out of his wife

after Is was done with them I went back home a bloody mess still in my ghostface costume with a job well done

as I washed up in the sink and but the bloody costume in the washing machine waiting for baby to come

like I said I do anything for her

I waited and and hated for 3-4 hours to hear her tapping

then finally she arrived as always she had a soft smile on her face as I held a smirk

“baby I got rid of them you don’t have to worry”

she stared at me a bit surprised

“you got rid of them?..for me?”

“of course baby I’d do anything for you”

she smiled and ran up to me as I picked her up and took her in my room

[nexusnyx]

to my sweetheart

40s!bucky barnes x f!reader [8.2k] summary: The promise of a weekend home hangs over Bucky's head like the sun used to shine on sweet summer days, illuminating everything in life. It's all planned out in his head: the place he'll take you to, the things he wants to talk about, the hundreds of ways he needs to touch you. It's all planned. A taste of how it'll be when the storm passes—he's ready for it. 📝 this was based on this post. if you like it, reblogs and comments make all the difference. i hope you enjoy this sweetheart saturday, 'cause this will be the sweetest one. 🏷️ established relationship, letters, angst, longing, love delcarations, Steve x Reader (platonic) ⚠️Smut. Minors, DNI. Unprotected sex, body worship, slow fuck.

masterlist | series masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤJuly, 1943.

My sweetheart,

You're a menace even from far away. How can that be? If I hadn't met you exactly like this, I'd dare say I'm surprised. But I'm not. Little minx. Do you know the lengths of what I had to do to finish your last letter? The effects you have on me, even from far away?

I bet you do. Good god, I can bet you're fuckin' smiling, right now. Sittin' there all pretty with your knees pulled high, so giddy and proud of yourself for what you've done to me. Well—let it be known that this here... this is payback.

First things first, thank you for the pictures.

You're more than I could ever ask for, every single time. One of them is safely tucked inside my uniform. I placed the other one inside my pocket watch. Morita's already laughed under his breath as if I can't fuckin' hear him sayin "you don't let a single hour pass by, huh, Sarge?", so you should be happy to know that, as well. My guys are giggling because of me. Because I'm whipped for you.

Second of all... thank you.

From the bottom of my heart which belongs to you entirely, I'm thankful for you. Knowing Ma has a friend in someone soothes my soul. I got a letter from her a few days ago—she's mad at me for dating you "for almost half of an entire year, James Buchanan. almost half a year and you didn't think to bring her here yourself! You'll count yourself lucky if you go back to the base camp with your ears still intact because when I see you..." and this is a direct quote, by the way. I have her letter right next to me—Ma's mad, and I'm glad that she is. It means she loved ya. As I knew she would.

What did you two talk about? Ma said you played with the girls, too. I think I dreamt of that scene. Did she show you my embarrassing baby pictures? I bet she did. My favorite one is the one that Stevie's got paint all over him; I love that one.

Now... as for the rest of your letter.

What should I do to you, hm?

You can't just tell me these things, you lil' witch. Can't just talk about the things you wished I was doing to you, 'cause I'm not there to do them, and it makes my chest tight, my heart beating faster.

I went to the showers at 2 something a.m. to finish that letter, 'cause I felt your words like caresses all over my skin. Here's a new acronym I learned from Gabe: V E N I C E. Wanna know what it means? I'll tell ya.

It means I think about it, too. Not often, unfortunately, not because I don't want to, but because in here I have very few moments to think about good things, but when I do, that's where my mind goes to—in the sweet minutes I have all to myself, my mind runs back to your presence like a puppy, wiggling its tail with its tongue out, so happy and so excited beyond words because of one single person.

My mind rushes to you, to memories of us, to moments we shared. Most of all, it seems to zoom in on the seconds where we were the closest. I save those memories for the stars, for when no one else's around, for when I can let my brain dive and swim in them.

You said that for you, what comes back when you're alone in the dark is the ghost of my hands.

For me, it's the fathom of your lips.

The way you kissed put a spell on me. Right now, as I write this, I'm sitting alone in a corner of the common showers with my neck sweating just a little bit and my heart beating in my throat, all because of that: the thought of your lips, so present and so sweet, making me ache all over. Should I be concerned, lil' witch? With the way you have control over my body even from far away? As if I were a puppet with strings only you can see, I'm aching for you and you're not even here. I'm hard, painfully so, because your picture and the distant echo of your giggles in my ear are enough to put me in a trance... the way you whisper my name when my hands are searching in menace ways the best path to get under your clothes and imprinted all over your skin... It's so difficult to write like this, sweetheart. Very Excited, Now I Caress Everywhere... d'you get it now? D'you see it?

I'm not there, but I can see you reading this. I can see your thighs clamping together in a pitiful attempt to not think about how I loved to tease the path to my favorite place, with my hands, my lips, my tongue. I'm gonna dream about it tonight, I can already see it. Gonna dream about your little whines, and how excited you got, while always being so good. Never asked for more. Never pushed for faster. Just took whatever I had to offer you, and asked in the sweetest way possible for what you wanted. "Jay." I miss that. The way you call me Jay when it's just us. No one's ever called me that before, and no one ever will again.

So do it, lil' witch. Touch yourself all you want when thinking about me. You had to ask for permission, didn't ya? (It's a rhetorical question. You never have to ask. I told ya long ago that from me, you can take and take without ever asking first, and yet you did, anyway.) I'm the luckiest bastard in this godforsaken and twisted world, all because of you.

I'll be there on the last weekend of this month, only for two days, but it'll be enough.

Just a taste of what'll come for us when all of this is over. A taste of you — that I miss so goddamn fuckin' much, Jesus Christ, sweetheart — and hours and hours of making you smile until it's imprinted in the walls of my brain, secured safe and sound in the labyrinth of my mind.

Wait for me, but never sadly. Keep up your studies, and focus on them just as I focus on work here whenever I have to. Talk to your friends, stay clear of those damn radios that only make you anxious and get you to bite your pretty nails, take Steve out for walks and keep that neighborhood in check, the two of you. I'll be back. I'll always come back to you.

With love in my heart (and because of your menace ways, my hand in my pants), I say goodbye for now,

V.E.N.I.C.E;

always yours, J.B.B.

In a month and a half, Bucky has written and read more than in the past decade, at least.

You'd scold him for admitting such a thing so easily, but it was true.

There are a few letters exchanged by now—the U.S. Postal is doing their best, but can only do so much—but they're enough on their own. More than two, sometimes 3 pages long, filled with more post scrimptums than anyone else rather than you two would care to read and it's probably acceptable, and always signed with a lot of love.

It's a whole new world created between the two of you where childhood memories are shared, secret fears that neither Bucky nor you ever imagined talking about are laid on the table, and all of that written between paragraphs of gossip stories from home or the military base, and dirty dreams and wishes.

A mess. An entire conversation—one with topics that go back and forth since the first letter and short pieces of dialogue you two shared with important people; it's the best conversation he's ever had.

The longest. Deepest.

ㅤㅤㅤ"I love talking to you, Jay. If before I thought we were two peas in a pod, now I'm certified of it the same way I'm certain the Sun rises in the East to set in West. Can you see the same thing I do? Sometimes, it feels as if we're sittin' on our porch, on our living room armchairs, laughing to one another about the sweet memories or silly theories that only we find amusement in."

Through you, Bucky hears things his Ma is saying. Gets news from his two younger sisters, as well as realistic check-ups on Steve.

In one of your letters, you said, "you know, I'm starting to feel calluses. I dreamt of writing dark children's books for so long, and I think this is my punishment, in some sort of way. How in the hell am I having an argument with Steve and you through here? You two are wrong. We talked about this before and I'll say it as many times as needed: this whole 'trip to the future' thing is hiding something bigger, and it's cute that you two think that geniuses and billionaires are just giving us all of their biggest developments. Truly adorable," and it had sparked the favorite topic in his unit: the existence of aliens, or not.

You're there without being there.

Most of them don't even know about you, of course. Bucky's private, and likes to be that way.

Morita, Gabriel, and Dum Dum are exceptions—those tree men proved to be the exact type of company a fella needs when facing an untamed and suffocating darkness.

They teased Bucky about his alone 'poet' time. When the time in July finally came for the soldiers to be dismissed for a weekend home before being shipped to London, Morita bid him goodbye with, "and see if you do something else other than writing back home, eh, Sarge?"

Bucky would.

He barely gets any sleep, waiting for the time when he'll be sharing your presence and counting each minute of it, placing them in the same precious box he kept your words.

With his eyes closed, the smile sets in stone on his face.

To any onlookers that pass him by, Sgt. James Barnes looks at peace.

Everything around him feels sharp and colorful.

Bucky almost feels surreal—his energy is humming underneath his skin, scorching as hot as the star that starts to rise.

He breathes in deeply as he steps out of the train, welcoming the smell of home.

Brooklyn is a hive of noise, so loud and different than anything he'd been used to these past weeks, and he strides in confidence towards his destinies.

For each of his people, Bucky told a story, but all for a good reason:

First, he has to visit his family. If he had told Steve about the time his train arrived, he'd be there without any regard for his sleep and comfort, and Bucky loved him too much to pull him out of bed before the sky had even lost its dark blue tones.

So first, he goes to the Barnes household.

Bringing bread, he steps inside his home almost feeling like the first rays of sunshine itself. Bucky's welcomed by the oldest feeling of attached to being safe and sound when Winnifred's arms wrap around him and she lets out a choked gasp at his name.

"James," is the first name he hears.

He's James during breakfast while he updates his mother to the best of his abilities, and fights the persistent sting in his eyes whenever the light illuminates her dark hairs, shining evidence in her new silver strands. He's James — but in a scolding tone — when his mother hears that he omitted from Steve his arrival time, and he's oh, James when his plans for later tonight are laid on the table in a soft, almost shy-spoken tone.

"I really like her, you know?" his mother tells him.

She's leaning against the sink with her ruby red robe, the soft slippers he bought for her as a present, and her hair held up in a bun. Bucky smiles at the approval, ignoring the heat in his cheeks that blossom at his mother's all-knowing gaze and the glint in her blue eyes. "I'm glad to hear that, ma."

Winnie does no effort to hide how pleased she is, and he has to admit that the teasing face he catches in reflections sometimes came from one person, and it wasn't his father. "Will I get to spend some time together with the two of you, at least?"

According to Bucky's plans, very little, because the time was as counted as their paychecks. "Well—today I'm gonna have lunch with Steve, then the three of us will meet up."

"Right."

"We'll probably hang around Stevie and I's apartment. Then we'll get ready to go to the Stark exhibition."

Winnie's are you serious look reminds Bucky that she never saw the three of you all hanging around together. "Really, James?"

"What?"

"You're gonna bring that poor, sweet boy to chaperone and be a third wheel at your date? Son," the title is another scolding and meant to serve as a tug in his ear.

He can't help it—Bucky laughs. "Mom," he teases right back. "That 'poor sweet boy' will be just fine." He snorted—there was nothing poor nor sweet about Steve. "The three of us are friends."

"And I'm not doubting that for a second. I'm just sayin'. Does he need to be there on the date? Does he even want to?"

"They already argued about this and the final conclusion was, apparently, that yes, he does." Bucky had to bite his lip at those bits in your last letter—even through ink and paper, he could see you and Steve as clear as daylight. "Steve and her are really good friends, Ma. She knows how much I miss him, and she claims that he's been even more annoyin' about stuff, mumbling shit—sorry, mumbling stuff about 'Bucky this' and 'Bucky that', so she ain't havin' it. Plus, it's not like the two of us can't behave. We never made Stevie feel left out."

His mother chuckled. "For some reason I find it hard to believe that you two are not the grossest thing together."

"What?!" his laughter intensifies. "You never saw us together."

"And whose fault is that, hm? Hm?" Winnie's look pierces through him as the last drops of her coffee seep to the cup, and she grabs her cup like a ninja, with eyes still glued on him and her head shaking, no need for a single glance to where her hands are going. His mother sips, and Bucky's laughter subsidies to a smile. "Well, I'm glad you she's generous enough to share ya." Her whole face softens. "Bubba's right. Steve's been missing ya a lot."

Bubba. Bucky forgets how to breathe for a single second. "Bubba?"

The name that his mother calls the girls—Bubs, Bubba, baby.

Winnie smiles behind the cup, and he's not sure if her happiness is directed at him because of how he looks, or at the whole situation. "Yes, James. The woman who's been comin' to my house for two months now, havin' almost daily cups of tea with me to talk about life and the perils of life is, to your surprise and delight, my Bubba. Are you really surprised?" Her next chuckle is as sweet as her coffee must be. "I like her. I told ya already."

"I can see that."

His mother moves to sit in the chair in front of him. "And you haven't answered my question yet, young man." She crosses her legs and offers her coffee for him to sip, which he does. Gods, this woman is a bee. He returns it with a grimace.

"Right, as I was sayin', today we're going to the Stark fair, the three of us. Eat a hot dog, be annoyin' at the square, drink a couple of beers. Then tomorrow, uh—"

"You two love birds will be together all day, yes, I can imagine."

He's thankful his mother saves him from saying the embarrassing bits, at least. "I have to go back on Monday."

"What time?"

"Thirteen hundred train."

"So there's time for breakfast?"

His smile returns. "Yeah, Ma. There's time for breakfast together."

Across the table, his smile seems to be reflected back at him. It looks a little older, with more crinkles around the corners and kissing the side of the eyes, but the same smile nonetheless. "Now I'm happy." She sips the coffee, humming in pleasure. "And what's so interesting at this fair?"

"Was that Bucky's voice?! Ma! Is Bucky here?!"

Ah, that screeching tone.

The second name he hears—Bucky.

Screamed at the top of her lungs by Rebecca, and later by a still sleepy Dorca, Bucky's greets with open arms his young rascals and spins them in the air, so lucky to have their laughter be the only sound he hears once again.

He does his best that whole morning to imprint every second spent with them like a tattoo in the malleable muscle of his brain. He wants Rebecca's slightly nasal and bossy tone to be of easy access when he's far away. He wants to not forget how long Dorca's hair is getting, or how much his mother still has control of this entire house at the tip of her fingers as if she's a powerful spider whose webs are invisible, but stronger than the eyes behold.

Before he leaves, he takes them for ice cream. Bucky asks all sorts of questions, trying to squeeze as much as he can in only a few hours, knowing that no amount of time feels enough nowadays.

Later, there's Buck.

"Hey, Buck."

It's a second homecoming.

This one, it tastes like a little bit of everything. "Hey, Stevie." The tiny frame that fits in his embrace as if it were a puzzle piece, it smells like childhood and teenage years all mushed together. "Glad to see you're in one piece."

It's a jab to the fact that his best friend and soulmate was about to get into a fight just seconds before Bucky finds him, and it was met with an ocean-cold stare. Blue meets blue, and Bucky can only laugh.

"Oh, shut up," Steve rolls his eyes. "I hate that I let them go—fucking bastards."

"Hey, hey; you can't fight 'em—"

"Can't fight 'em all, I know, punk, I know." Steve sighs, but when he looks at Bucky again, his gaze softens. Something clicks, and Steve seems to come back to himself. "You sound like Father Chase," his snorted laugh means it's Bucky's time to scoff.

"Maybe because he had a point?"

"Always did. Doesn't change the facts."

"And what are the facts?"

"The facts, Buck, are that you're a softie," before he can come up with an answer, Bucky's frame is pushed back by the force of it—Steve doesn't go for it, he lunges for another hug, body crashing against Bucky's. "'m glad you're back."

The facts must be true, if only when it came to Steve, at least. "Punk," he mutters against soft blond strands. Bucky hugs back just as hard, and they let go at the exact same time.

A single look is shared, and then they nod.

Secret conversations aren't only spilled in acronyms.

I'm glad to be back, his nod says.

While Steve's says, Now we're alright.

They were. For now, everything was alright.

"You get your orders?" Steve starts walking in the direction that Bucky's heart was tugging in—the direction of your apartment.

He follows, putting one arm around Steve's shoulders. "Sure did. The 107th. Sgt. James Barnes, shipping out on Monday for England."

"Sargeant, huh?"

Under Steve's appraising eyes, Bucky's always felt a little bit analyzed. "Yeah." No inch of him went unnoticed. "I'll do my best to take care of all of them." An artist's eye on you could be an unnerving thing.

It soothed when he smiled. "Of course you will, Buck." Often, Bucky wondered if Steve had any idea of how much power his opinion yielded. "You always do your best." A smile of his alone, and Bucky felt more approved than any superior's highest praise. "I—" he hut himself short, but Bucky knew what he swallowed down. I just wish I could help. "I'm happy for ya."

Always so good, "thank you, Steve." Not a day would go by when Bucky would let it pass the opportunity to thank god for gifting him with Steven Gran Rogers. "Now—" he looked up, seeing your building approach. "You sure she has no idea I'm here?"

Another roll of eyes—Steve could one day get cursed with the sight of his brain forever. "I'm starting to think you're spending too much time with your comrades. You forgot already who's had your six since forever?"

"Awn, Stevie—don't be jealous of my smelly, grumpy men. You'll always be my number one."

"You're ridiculous. Of course she doesn't know. Lady thinks you'll be here on the 4pm train, just like we talked about. She's probably still sleepin' 'cause of her late-night shift."

"Another one?!"

A scoff. "You try to tell Lady what to do and see how it goes. I already know my place of speakin', and it ain't that one."

"God, how on earth did I end up with the two more stubborn people to ever walk this goddamn planet? No, really—"

"Oh, because you're a beacon of flexibility."

"—you two are made from a single mold, and whoever used it on you first, and then her, saw their mistake two heartbeats too late, then broke the damn mold 'cause they knew if they made more, it'd mean world domination."

There's a single second of pause, and then Bucky turns to the amused gaze staring at him. Steve with a hand on his hip and a smirk on his face will always look the same. "You've gotten more dramatic. That's a fuckin' wonder." He turns around laughing to himself and shaking his head. "Go say 'morning' to her. I'm gonna go get tomato sauce, we ran out of it yesterday."

The implication that Steve's been hanging around more registers in all the happy places of Bucky's brain, but everything's washed away by the flood that it's the sight of it—

your window.

Bucky's entire world does the thing: it tunnels.

The same rounded, small rocks that he used on the first date still litter Mrs. Simyl's vase. He picks one, weights it in his hand, and with a heart-thumping loud in his chest, he throws it to your window.

A peck.

KNOCK

Bucky waits: one, two, three heartbeats.

He swallows the lump that rises in his throat.

The sun already rose, but it comes up again.

At least, for him.

When your head pops out in the window, Bucky swears it does.

Like a sniper's barrel, your eyes know exactly where it goes on instinct. They find him underneath your window pulled by the gravity that—with a quick check on his hummingbird of a heart, it's confirmed—still there.

North, meet South.

"Jay?"

"Hi, sweetheart."

Your face disappears, taking everything with you. The light, the warmth, the strenght in the gravitational hold of your beautiful eyes and gaze—as soon as they disappear, Bucky's spell is broken, and his feet gain life.

He knows you're rushing to your door the same way he rushes up the stairs.

He's glad the uniform stayed in his suitcase, safely tucked in his and Steve's apartment. He'd sweat from all the heat he's emmanating, and probably drench you in an ocean before he could get a single kiss.

Bucky's pulled by his North, and when he sees the familiar sight of your door, it's already swinging open.

"Oh, god." There's a breach in time. A break in the fabric of space. One moment, he's a few steps away from you, and the next thing he sees and knows, he has an arm full of you.

"Bucky."

That's him. James, Bucky, Buck, Jay. From all of his names, now's the only time when all of his cells feel slotted into place. Bucky's heard every one of his names, all the ones that matter, and now he is whole.

His voice evades him.

Inside his arms, he's aware that you're shaking, even if the notion takes a moment to register—as it should. He's shaking, too; vibrating, is more like it, because he's here, and now that he can breathe, his body seems incapable of doing so.

He inhales deeply, even if it's all trembling.

Your smell is different from any other. Bucky would recognize in a crowd of millions. He'd find it blindfolded, he was certain of it.

If they made him forget his name, Bucky would be Nobody, but even as Nobody, he would know that this is the scent of his person.

Citrine. Mint leaves. With a deeper inhale, he catches the underlying tone—vanilla. The purest and sweetest form, used in the lotion you put all over your body after showering sometimes, mixed with the unique and personal scent of just you. Vanilla has a taste on you. It's sweet, but not sticky.

It's summer.

Bucky is in love.

When the pull that holds you together seems to loosen its threads, you and Bucky pull back at the same time.

Not too far—neither one is able to go further than millimeters for now, and in the back of his mind, he's thankful that Steve gave the two of you the time you needed.

Just like he and Steve clung to each other like a lifeline for embarrassing minutes that neither one chose to talk about, you two are roped together, and going too far is impossible for now.

The only space is a breath of air separating your heads.

Bucky pulls an arm up, crowding your head inside his forearm. His palm spreads on the top of your head, holding you there.

His eyes find yours, swimming and spilling over.

Your lips tremble when you speak. "You told me you were getting here later," he feels your hand making fists out of his white shirt, resting on the curve of his lower back. After a sniffle, you add, "'m gonna kill you and Blondie," and then, you nuzzle your nose on his.

He laughs. Bucky truly is home. "He was just followin' my orders, lil' witch. No killing, please."

"You two planned behind my back," you go on, sounding small and choked still. His crybaby that never cried before.

Bucky's arm cage around your head got a little tighter, and his arm around your waist pulled you impossibly closer. "Don't cry," he pleaded in a whisper. "It was to surprise ya."

He thinks you're beautiful even with wet, rosy cheeks. "I'm surprised," your laugh came out choked, and you sniffled again. Bucky accepted the tears despite how much his hand itched to wipe them away, and clean your cheeks. Lower, and softer, so much softer than he was used to hearing any voice, you say, "You're actually here..."

The awe in your voice is a sentiment he can understand. "I am."

"I'm not dreaming."

His forehead stays touching yours as he shakes his head, and while it's an uncomfortable angle, but he likes it for now. "No. Seems neither am I." It's the closeness his heart aches for, and achieving it soothes the wrinkles in his soul.

You, on the other hand, seem to need a better angle—your head pulls back against his head, gaining a couple more inches of distance, and his body moves along with yours.

When you're far enough to look at his whole face, Bucky's breath is sucked out of his body.

He's here.

"I missed you, Jay."

And so are you.

Bucky smiles and dives.

Your eyes are closed, lips waiting for his.

If angels sing, this is it. Angels, a choir, or maybe just the white noise of his head subduing, opening up space for this—your lips on his are a single drop falling in a pond, creating ripples until the surface is a still mirror.

Neither one of you moves too much. There isn't back and forth, or any deepening of the kiss. On the contrary.

It is what it is.

A sweet sound of hello. A press of lips, two pieces meeting together, fitting in as one.

When the air he stored runs out and Bucky gasps in your lips, he hears your pleased hum.

You smile, breathing in through your nose. "'m so happy," you inform him.

Bucky laughs. He breathes out, and kisses you again, but messier this time. Rougher. He wants to taste your tongue, wants your oxygen in his veins. He nibbles, bites, sucks on your lips; Bucky finally gets his tongue intertwining with yours, walks you back inside your place, and closes the door with his foot even if somewhere in the back of his mind, he's aware that Steve will come passing by any minute now.

The kiss is enough for now.

A single taste—a sip of a galleon he'll drink whole later tonight, bathe himself, drown in; Bucky pulls back and is pleased to note how pink you look and the puffiness in your lips.

You two exist in silence for a moment, just breathing each other in, and then,

"You ready for a day with Stevie and I?" he asks.

Your smile is enough of an answer. "Where's Blondie?"

"Probably comin' right up."

"'Kay. Cool." You press your lips on his again, melting and humming softly; all the little sounds he's missed. The hums, and ahs you make when melting in his arms that he's taking back to the base with him. "'m gonna change."

"Cool. Let's go."

Your laughter as well—he's pocketing that, and keeping it close to his heart. "That wasn't an invite."

"Was it not? Damn, I could've sworn it was, miss. My bad."

"D'you think I can get any 'changing' done with you in the room?"

Although the question is asked amidst laughter, you seem okay with Bucky glued on your back and stepping where you do, channeling his inner cat. "I have no clue. We'll figure it out."

"And if Steve arrives?"

A cackle from him—you're the witch, but Bucky laughs like one at that joke. "I'm sure your new best friend can find himself just fine in your house. Wasn't he here last night?"

"How d'you know that?"

"He said you two ran out of tomato sauce. He went to get some to cook lunch for us."

"You mean for you to cook lunch for us. We're just sittin' there lookin' pretty and talking your ear off."

"Sweetheart, that sounds marvelous to me."

True as he said to his mother, there is no third-wheeling or chaperoning.

In the same kitchen as his two favorite people, Bucky has one of the loveliest afternoons of his entire life. In fact, his Saturday is so good that Bucky marks the date in the calendar in his mind — the 24th of July — as some special daybreak.

He fits right in. Between the jokes that you and Steve now share and he has no idea what the roots of them are, next to your attentive, hawk-like eyes that never seem to leave him, snuggled by the much smaller frame of a friend who still looks up to him as someone good.

It's a pity that Bucky has no superpowers.

He would fit an entire month right there, in the afternoon reserved for the three of you.

By the time the sun is setting down and you three feel the need to clean up for the exhibition, the trio has already covered every base:

The military. Family. Neighbors (both the annoying as well as the good ones). Steve's stubbornness, and then yours. England. Bucky's squadron, with the specifics of each man he claimed to like.

Bucky laughed. He sobered up—those coal, slimy tentacles of war tried sneaking their way to the front.

Impossible to be done with you and Steve present.

When Bucky comments about separating — 'Steve and I can go to the apartment to get ready then come pick you up, whatcha say?' — he gets the same attitude from both.

"Why would I go stay alone at my place?" you ask.

Steve nods along. "Just wait here 'till she picks up her overnight bag and she'll come with us."

"Yeah. Steve never takes longer than ten minutes to get ready, anyway."

"True. I say Lady and I will be ready before you are," Steve adds with a knowing smile.

You laugh with him. "Oh—that's for sure."

"Hey!" Bucky loves to see you two teaming up. It's the kind of thing he'd like to see forever if he has any say in it. "I don't take that long."

To that, he hears many arguments.

"Oh my god, who is he talking to?" you ask, turning your gaze to Steve.

"I don't know. He's actin' like we don't know him," Steve snorts.

"It's crazy. Did he forget the times we had to wait for him?"

"Many times."

You glance back at Bucky, all smiles and daring. "You think you can hurry up tonight, princess?"

It does something to him. He hates that it does—and he sees and hears it in Steve's laugh that it's obvious, too, that the stupid teasing nickname pulls a string or two of his, and he huffs away from you both. "Ungrateful duo of firecrackers, I swear to god."

"Oh, c'mon!" it's you, rushing to catch up to him, laughing the same as Steve.

"Yeah, c'mon—"

"Don't you dare, Steven," he cuts him off before he can use it too, and it gets only more laughter.

"You didn't answer her question, you know," Steve comments when he catches up to Bucky and you.

He rolls his eyes. "I'll speed up. 's not like I have to look my best—not when you two aren't doing anythin' to deserve it."

"Damn, Jay. Not even a little bit of cologne for me?" you pout.

The gall. The audacity. He huffs and puffs, and turns his eyes away from you. "I'll think about it." He's a joke. Bucky's going to spend at least triple the time in the bathroom, but it's okay, because he'll come out to you and Steve waiting for him.

"Welcome to the Modern Marvels Pavilion and the World of Tomorrow!"

In his uniform, Bucky feels oddly in place.

He's pulled by the sleeves by either you, or Steve. "C'mon, c'mon, Buck, it's starting!" you squeal.

Willing and pliant, that's his role for the whole night. With a smile plastered on his face, and a giddiness he hasn't felt since he was a kid. Not that he was ever this happy in his childhood—this is a new, shinier form of happiness.

It happens because he's in the right place. With the right people.

Also, he paid very close attention to your eyes when he left the bathroom an hour ago.

When Bucky saw that glint, a very familiar one to him, his body responded. He felt your gaze on him. On his uniform. The tension that for a second became almost like humidity in the air, it hung for a few seconds, and it made Steve go to the kitchen with yet another roll of his eyes.

"I'm... gonna go drink a glass of water. You two—yikes. Be quick. The eye fucking is gross."

"Such a gentleman, Steve," you joked, but the lack of eye contact with him kind of ruined it for you.

Bucky approached you, walking in slow and deliberate steps. He allowed you to look at every inch. Feeling it was good, too—your eyes ranking up and down his body was almost a physical touch, and it made the soft spreading of your palm on his chest warmer.

"You look..." the words left you, leaving your lips parted and pink. "Very nice."

Not often did Bucky feel bashful. "Thanks, sweetheart." A rare gem such as this needed to be polished, even if it was perfect in its raw form. Bucky leaned in closer, barely containing his smile, and with his mouth nearing your ears, he whispered. "I have a feeling it's not my hair and my perfume that you like."

The intake of your breath was loud from this proximity. "Jay..."

That whisper alone was enough for him. He whispered your name back and kissed your temple with a smile. "Save all of those thoughts for later, 'kay? All of 'em. I wanna hear everything that's goin' around on that pretty head of yours."

Breathless, you whispered, "'kay'," and then nuzzled your face against his neck before pulling away. The flush was high on your cheeks. Redder than before, and due to more than just makeup. "You really do look handsome," that whisper made his insides tangle, and he enjoyed it.

"'m glad you think so."

That part was only forgotten when he saw the automobiles.

Even if Steve hid it better than you and Bucky, the reality hit you three all the same. Three nerds in a science fairy served for more than entertainment; it meant a night to be remembered.

Bucky gets lost in hours of conversation.

You three see everything. Even the dance floor is forsaken in the name of reading about stuff, theorizing about what is left out of the exposition, and laughing with each other as the ideas that bounce between you three get wilder each time.

It's almost midnight when you three make your way to the apartment.

Bucky is in a tipsy state. Steve—well, his tolerance is not the best, and mixing sugar with alcohol is a bad idea. It's all good though, because you hate the taste of it, and walking between the two of them like a beacon of balance and normalcy is a thing you did before.

Steve's hand hooks through your shoulder, into Bucky's nape.

He talks about the war. The human condition—Mrs. Georgia, from downstairs.

"She's been cryin' every night or two. It's—sad. Loud. God, I'm so glad I'm gonna black out tonight."

Bucky ends up taking off Steve's shoes while you tuck his sleeping body into bed.

He looks up at you, and sees the strand of your hairstyle escaping the pins, framing your face into something more suited for the faint yellow lights of late-night times and the Moonlight outside. "At least he waited 'till he was home," Bucky reasons.

You smile at him. "At least he didn't puke."

"Touché."

Once Steve Rogers is safe and sound, you turn your body to Bucky, both hands placed on your hips.

Here it comes, thinks Bucky...

"Safe and sound."

He smiles. "That he is." Bucky knew he'd be. It wasn't his first time hearing this.

He extends one hand in the air and is delighted when you catch it.

"Let's go?"

It's barely a whisper.

You nod at him, fitting your body under one of his arms as you walk out of the room. In the quiet magnitude of this hour into the night, you whisper, "I should've let you buy me cotton candy."

Bucky closes the door of the room holding back his laughter. "I'll make you scrambled eggs when we get to the hotel."

"Will you?"

"I will."

"I don't know if I trust your tipsy self to a stove."

Bucky groaned, pulling you even closer to him to bury his nose into your hair. "I'll be a hundred percent by the time we make it there."

The conversation goes on in hushed whispers as you two walk, ignoring all the other rare figures you see walking in the streets too, not on purpose—on the fact that it's a new world, already.

As soon as the apartment door was locked behind him, Bucky's world shifted in its axis; everything becomes you.

He's barely aware of what he's answering.

The only thing he knows it's that you're teasing him—he pays attention to the blush he sees forming on your cheeks once you feel his gaze so locked on your lips. He laughs under his breath when you stutter, and then laughs harder when you poke him in the ribs for laughing in the first place.

He feels how warm you are despite how chill the night has become.

Inside his jacket—his uniform, you've found heat.

The hotel room he located for the night is not far from your house itself, and it's one of the most decent ones still inside his budget. Rooms that are nice and clean, plus a decent breakfast.

It was far from what you deserved, but Bucky had years of work ahead of him before he was able to afford that.

When he enters, you take a little spin around.

Bucky puts both yours and his duffel bags on the floor.

He lets you walk around, and take your heels off, his eyes following you.

When they finally land on him, Bucky can almost see the air that stands between you.

Your voice is as low as a whisper. He hears it loud and clear in the deep quiet of the night. "You're not gonna cook for me, are you?"

He's kicking his shoes off as he shakes his head.

Bucky's eyes are so attentive, that he catches the shivers that run through you.

"Tomorrow," he promises.

Your fingers graze the long sleeve of the dress until it hooks on the shoulder pad, but Bucky hums negatively.

The movement stops.

He takes his steps until he's an inch away from you, and breathes in deeply.

"'m pretty sure that's my job."

It was. One of the best parts of it, now that Bucky paid close attention to it. His hands removed the fabric from your skin, exposing it to the light entering the room through the window, and in those moments, Bucky managed to fit in hours.

Every inch of you being exposed to him, it was like he painted it somewhere in his mind, guarding that canvas in a special slide of his subconscious.

When all your clothes were on the floor, he continued his ministrations of sewing all your measurements to memory.

Bucky's hands — palm spread flat, his fingertips, his knuckles — made work of you, while you removed his clothes in return.

Once naked, he could pass on to the next stage:

"Wanna remember how you taste, sweetheart."

The shaky gasp you let out when his words met your ear was too fast for him to catch, but everything else that followed fell into Bucky's lips.

They were wide, hand-made nets, built only for one purpose: to fish every part of you that was delectable.

Bucky started with close-mouthed kisses and ended up almost devouring you. Swallowing you whole.

There were hours between that first and last stage, though.

At first, everything was slow.

Bucky had been so preoccupied back at the base with whether the first time you two fucked would be the same as the ones from before or not, that he missed the entire point.

It had always been great. The connection between you two always started with more than just physical, and when it got to that point, you two were already lost in each other.

This was immersion.

Hearing your tender, then groaned, and later broken moans of "Jay" counted as his sea.

Your eager touches were current, guiding him in.

This was far from fucking. There was nothing crude about the first time—there was only love.

Bucky never made love before, but he understood why not when your body unfolded in front of him. When your legs open wide and everything blossoms, Bucky has full comprehension of what a feeling can do to two people.

Not just any feeling. This.

Bucky's a drunk man.

It's only his grace that you're as far gone as him. As Dionysus blessed—when Bucky's fingers intertwine with yours to replace your fisted hands in the sheets with his own instead, Bucky's gaze catches yours.

He sees the warm and inviting openness of black in your eyes.

Bucky kisses and leaves his feeling all over his path.

As overwhelming as it is, making love is also beautiful. This type of surrender required a level of trust and blinded faith that he's not sure he even had before, but he finds it right there, in bed with you.

The first time is slow.

Both of you taking your time to marvel at how in sync you are—to marvel at how wet one makes the other, and how unashamed both of you feel in touching each and every part.

He's never had anyone touching him the way you do. Bucky gets your lips leaving prints from his face, his chest, arms, and legs, all the way to the curve above his ass.

As he opens you up with his fingers, Bucky keeps watching all the emotions passing through your face.

The first time you make love, in gentle, long, and agonizing steps.

When he pushes inside at last, he can almost swear he hears violins.

Or maybe it's your nails digging at his back—your pained, blissed whines. "Jay."

He's whining, too—your name spills from his lips as much as air does, and you two move not to reach an end, but to feel what is connecting you at that exact time.

When the words leave his lips, Bucky can see them traveling in the air before being sucked in by yours. "I love you, sweetheart."

Out of his lips, into thick, warm air, and falling...

You gasp, closing your eyes for a moment, and Bucky tastes your tears when he's gifted back with, "I love you too, James." It makes him smile, shaking from head to toe like a leaf. "I truly do."

"I know. I feel it."

"It w-was never like—like this. Never before."

An understatement, if he ever heard one. Bucky could feel your heartbeat as if it was his own; it was more than just his cock buried to the hilt inside of your warm cunt, feeling every construction and high of your pleasure, or the vibrations of your moans and the pleas for his name that seemed to reverberate all through his being—

"This—" he bucked his hips harder, just to feel the waves of pleasure cursing through you, and laughed with his lips ghosting your mouth. "This is—oh—it's making love, sweetheart."

"Jay!"

Bucky was unsure of how long it lasted.

Could've been hours, or just a few, blissful minutes.

From the thick layer of sweat that covered your bodies by the time you both came undone, his guess tips more towards the first.

It's almost like seeing a visible thread being cut—when the orgasms hit your bodies, one right after the other, Bucky collapses his back in the bed, carrying your body along with him.

That's where you two stay, for a few moments longer.

"Were we whispering?" you ask.

He likes when your lips are on his skin. They're warm, and he has their shape memorized now. "I think we were." If he was a better artist, he'd draw them. "D'you want me to cook for you now?" he asks with a chuckle.

You tilt your head up, take a second to think it over, then answer with a simple smile.

So Bucky cooks.

He slaps your hand when you try putting on his white t-shirt laying on the ground, commenting, "No need for that at all, c'mon'," and watches with the same pleased and hungry eyes as you stay leaning on the wall as he uses the small stove for a quick meal.

After that, there are other times.

There's the desperate round, and there's the fucking, and the unexpected, and the lazy, 'we're too tired to move but still horny enough for this' moment where he just lays in bed with his hands between your legs, touching your pussy even if he's not actively doing anything.

Bucky washes you with careful hands and a lot of tenderness in the shower, running the cloth and the soap through your marked, sensitive skin as slowly as his sleepiness allows.

"We're gonna have a good day today," you tell him.

Given the whispering tone and slurred words, Bucky assumes you're almost sleeping, too. "Yup. All day to ourselves. Dinner with Steve. Come back here to sleep well."

"I love you, James."

Bucky would never get tired of hearing those words in your voice. He pulls your body close, kissing even if he'll taste soap and warm water. "I love you more." He whispers your name, kisses you again, and turns off the shower head before cold water sprays on his perfect day.

Nothing about today is cold.

Bucky's warm. While you may carry the elegance and magic of the Moon, you're his Sun.

His North, and his Sun, which would always guide him home, for hot and perfect days like this that remind him of why it's good to be alive and to feel all of this love.

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ☆ next chapter ☆

[xmorguekittyx]

Ever Locked

Part 4: Good Night, Bunny

Part 3: With Your Ghost

pairing: Older!Leon Kennedy × Ex!Coroner's Assistant Reader

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, talks of enjoying inflicting emotional and physical pain on another, just Leon’s pov on things right now.

Fucking rain. Every single day, nothing like the thick air, the feeling of Raccoon City before its inevitable bombing. Boots clap against the rain puddles, slick as the show slides on the step, nearly knocking me off balance and into the small bushes by the hotel door way. "Shit-", the word spat as my hand clutches at the automatic door, stilling it. "Fucking rain, can't wait to get back to my place.", all the more reason to get into her mind, to open Pandora's Box into the mind of the woman of the hour.

   My phone dings as I adjust the whiskey bottles in the bag, shifting from my right to left hand, reaching for the Motorola Razr, the fucking brick costing much more than i wanted to pay. Chris Redfield sent a message. A grumble left my lips as i entered the doors, heading to the shiny elevator. Tapping his stupid little contact photo opened the message; "so, when were you gonna tell everyone you were over 3000 miles away? You know we listed you as MIA and had a chopper checking around your house, right? Never understood why you needed to live in the middle of butt fuck nowhere, had us worried you went off the deep end or something." I could nearly hear Rebecca hitting him in the shoulder for the last part.

  My choices in house placement was quite simple; remote enough to not have any issues with neighbors- like a certain old hag who should've minded her own business- then, were close enough to a small town with a grocery store and a post office. It's perfect. Small, far away from everyone else and it can be a small safe space for the family i'm going to build. I have lived my life giving and giving and giving, giving up my life to the government, letting all my wants go to work on missions, letting vacations slip past me just so i can work my ass off one more time and get denied the next vacation. I never have a moment to myself until i'm MIA.

  I'll be selfish, this time around, i'll be selfish. I want one thing to myself, my home to myself. I want her, bunny, to myself. The future is so uncertain, but in certainty, i know i will have her and she will be away from everything and everyone. She'll be something just for me, for my pleasure. It's selfish, god, it's wrong to be so self centered to throw off someone's life so horribly, but i can't find it in myself to regret the choice i've made to come and find her.

  The elevator dings, bringing my attention to the wobbly reflection. My hair is dark with grease, my skin dry and flakey in parts, my hand comes up just as the doors open. Fingers rubbing at the rough scruff that coats my jaw. I looked like shit, honestly, i would've cried had i seen myself too. As the door threaten to close once more, i step out. The hallway is lit with a warm lamp, it was short and the rain taps against the windows with a rhythmic patter. I wonder what she's doing, is she worrying? Is she scared that i'm back, or is that perfect new boyfriend currently too busy keeping her wrapped around him? The latter causes my brows to drop.

  The keycard taps the lock, hearing a beep and a green light before my, still wobby, legs threaten to let me fall. The handle is clicked quickly, falling under the weight of my hand. The room is... clean, at the most, plain. Very minimalistic. The bed is neat, the coffee cups wrapped, definitely won't be touching those, unless they have the creamer i like. Coffee left a bad taste, trying to down that god awful black coffee to impress the older officers still made me want to throw up. The bitterness, i wasn't someone into the bitter things, despite how bland my life had become. Time didn't stop for me to indulge in anything sweet or extra. That's why i won't answer that message, once i acknowledge it all, then come questions, why's, when's, where's. I don't have the time, I needed to set my plan in place. I needed to know that things were gonna work out this time, this opportunity.

  The desk is clear of anything, which is good, my bags lay underneath from my earlier visit before the White Wolf. Duffel bags of clothes, files and photos. It was time... but a drink first wouldn't hurt. A soft sigh leaves my lips as i lay the whiskey bottles down, hearing them clink together. Jack Daniel's, wasn't the top shelf shit- but it was cheap and whiskey tastes like whiskey once you've downed enough- they all taste the same.

  The bag rustles as i fish out the first bottle, nearly half empty from the gas station down the road. My boots slide off with ease as i step towards the coffee maker, pulling one of the little paper cups from the stack. "As good as any.", my shoulders weigh with a shrug before the cap is off and the cup is half full of warm whiskey. The amber liquor burns, the flavor vanilla-ish. Something i should've looked at before throwing the cash on the counter. Alcohol is alcohol, at the end of the day.

   My back hits the bedding, cup laid aside on the side table. The thoughts of the past few years flooding my mind, the latest tragedy being my team being ratted out and only myself coming out as a survivor. It never seems to fail, anyone close to me... their life is cut short by some tragedy or they're in danger at my hands. It was a cycle, one i wouldn't let touch the innocence of my bunny. The pillow engulfs my cheek as i lay my head upon it, the inside rough but manageable as i reach out for the cup, my fingers pushing it further away before catching the rim and pulling it closer.

  My head aches with the next round of thunder, the lightening cracking over the dim room. Engulfing everything in a light for a few seconds, the painting across from the bed getting my attention. It looked... angry, and yet it was just swipes of black and red paint over a white background. What? You gonna say it's some internal struggle i'm having or something. is it like those tests the therapist hands you to get a read on you? The liquid in the cup splashes as i swirl it, my mind bouncing from left to right. It feels surreal, im sure it does for her, too. The moment i've been anticipating since i saw the name under a few address, the moment she's been dreading since that faithful day. It's crazy how much fate can dictate.

  The Chinese have a legend, about a red string of fate tied between two lovers. It's a beautiful story-pictures of fingers intertwined with the others, red string wrapped delicately around pinkies and swirling around the hands that finally met their match. It's beautiful until the string is tied around your throat by the one tethered to the other side, that string of fate is telling. What was meant to show you endless care and tenderness now tightly stealing away the very air that kept you alive, that tore at the delicate flesh, its motives unknown and terrifying.

  Another rumble of thunder and that thought too is ripped from my consciousness. I see the fault in my plans, don't get me wrong. I'm not insane. I simply don't care, i want this and for once in my miserable life, im going to get something i want. She's just the poor soul who has to be the one i set my sights on. She loved me once too, you know? She said it- herself- she loved me. She let me see her vulnerable and bare. I want to see it again, that bitch at the bar declined giving me Bunny's new number. What a stuck up bitch. A laugh ripped past my lips, the liquor splashing out of the cup lip and landing on my cheek as i wipe it away quickly. Hand once more in my scruffy, growing in beard. I wonder if i should keep it, at least while i'm here? Nah. I never could grow a nice full beard, mine always patchy and uneven. It is what it is, but i'm not shaving it right now. My eyes are stinging, head falling back on the pillow as the cup slides back onto the night stand.

  The clothes call to me from their bag, begging for me to change into the soft grey sweatpants that have been my favorite for years now. I feel a twitch in my leg, a pushing force that is quickly pushed away. That can wait for tomorrow, as can planning. The bed is too magnetic to my body. The sheets already bunched under my weight, fingers digging around to grip the sheet and pull it up, promptly causing my muscles to ache, realizing i have, indeed, made no progress, my legs stand for a millisecond, before i'm back into the bed, quicker than the bag can see. Nothing outweighed the amount of exhaustion that built up in my brain.

  The aircon kicks on, the room settling at a nice sixteen nine degrees. Cold and enough the blanket keeps me warm. The buzz of the alcohol and the warm and cool feeling just about as perfect as it can get. Something feels as if it's missing, like there's something that should be here and isn't, but i think i know what it is. I think it's always been missing and the sleepless nights had me begging any god that i'd have that back. Sleep doesn't come easily for me anymore, but knowing her presence isn't as far as i anticipated, has me feeling slightly more relaxed. Maybe enough to settle into bed all night, or enough to keep staying asleep the entirety. Either way, as long as i sleep. I can't keep pushing missions with no rest, last mission i was nearly left back there. Sleep is a necessity that hasn't been fulfilled since her disappearance. I know it wasn't her choice or fault either too.

  That's why I'd wanted to speak with her at her work, to see if all these years anything had changed. I know it probably has, but does she still bring that peace and calmness to me, can she still cause me to snap instantly with her little smart ass behavior? I have to know. Either way, she's mine. She's always been mine.

  The sheets cocoon me, cradling my body as I slept in my daily clothes. It didn't matter, i'd slept in abandoned ships, cots that were as hard as a plank of wood, in 3 day old clothes, bed for other men who hadn't showered in weeks. This bed, felt amazing, compared. The curtains letting the lightening crack over my face but the stinging stalled as the darkness encroached my eyes. The fluttering causing a tear slipped pasty cheek. warm as i nearly got to that state of peace. Work can be done tomorrow, plans, actions and strong up my temporary home, it'll all work out. Good night, Bunny...

[xxdevilishbabyxx]

NSFW!!! 18+ MDNI!!!

//Priest John Price

Just imagining John Price as a priest falter around a normal looking girl, with skirt too short and a slightly tighter blouse. Her eyes fluttering whenever she caught his gaze, his face slowly going red, imagining how soft her skin to touch, how sweet her scent is, how delicious her plump lips are, how her ass would feel on his calloused hands and how addicting her nectar taste. Having to fight back the urge of indulging to one of the sin he promised to avoid, digging his nails into the palm of his hands, while he pray to the god above so feverishly.

One time he went out to town to run some errands and he bumped into her coming out of a coffee shop, spliing her coffee on him. She apologies to him profusely, handing him her handkerchief to wipe the coffee stain off of him. Listening to her voice is such a blessing to him, he listen to her voice very closely, memorizing every single thing that she said or she did during their accidental conversation. Her soft gasp when she realized that its him, her constant say of "sorry" spilling out of her delicious looking lips, the way she twist her hair when she offered to wash his cassock. John memorize everything, everything that he could catch, everything that he could later use to relieve his lust of her, to scratch the itch deep inside him of wanting to claim her.

Imagining her beneath him, writhing in pleasure, body glowing from sweat, gasping for breath now and then, face welled up with tears of pleasure and pain. "Father... Father!" His name rolling of her tongue so smoothly, so naturally, its like his name is only for her to say and hers only. His cassock would be stained with his release, glistening in the dimly light room. He can hear his pant loud in his ears, sweat dripping down his forehead, his hand still stroking his throbbing cock while his other hand gripped her handkerchief tightly, bringing it to his nose so he can inhale her intoxicating scent.

Everything, everything about that woman is maddening to him, all he want to do is to ravish her soft body, to devour her whole. Sin be damned, he want her, he needed her, seeing her underneath him moaning his name while he is deep inside her is what he needed. He needed to take her. And he will.

[daisybell17]

Loki takes care of you hc’s:

You never fell sick, so this was a the first time Loki had ever saw you this physically weak

“i’m still going to work” you say through sniffles

“you’re not serious right? come on let me take care of you” Loki greatly insisted

“no i need to work, i need money” achoo!

“darling please…you know i can shower you with all the riches of the world…just stay in”

“no”

“yes. end of discussion.”

“no”

“yes. you will lie down and i will take care of you”

“no. let me go!” achoo!

Loki grabbed your phone

“and what the hell are you doing?”

He was much taller and stronger so you stood no chance in getting your phone…he called your office and said you were sick

“LOKI! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT” cough!

“because…love…YOU ARE SICK GET IN BED!”

Loki drags you into bed

“LOKI!” cough!

“Your boss said it was fine, in fact he insisted you took the week off…when was the last time you took a break?!”

“i don’t know?! fine ill rest” achoo!

you pouted in defeat, although you were glad Loki offered to take care of you, you just wanted to always win discussions

“good! now…what would you like to eat my dear?”

“pasta…and fish”

“pasta and fish it is”

Loki went out and bought ingredients for your requested dish and cooked you pasta and fish

He also bought medicine, tea, a stuffed toy, and some chips since they were your favourite

achoo! “mmm love your cooking is amazing” you say as you devoured the dish

“only the best for my best girl always” he smiled and gave a kiss on your cheek

Loki then gave you some space to eat in silence and came back later with the other items he bought

“Ok so…medicine first, drink up love”

You saw the medicine he bought and you cringed from the memory of its taste

“What’s wrong? are you okay?” Loki asks as he watched your face contort from the sight of the medicine

“I just…hate the taste” cough!

He chuckled “oh come on, you know its good for you”

You shook your head ahchoo!

“Come on”

“Fine” You forced it down…god you didn’t like that cough!

“Good girl”

You blushed and smiled at him

“Ok then i got you some tea you can have whenever. I got chips since they’re your favourite and this stuffed animal”

ahchoo! You saw everything he did for you and you couldn’t help but tear up “d-darling, you’re too sweet” you smiled

“awh my sweet, i’ll always take care of you, no matter what…mhm my precious” He said as his hand rubbed up and down your backside

“Alright well…i’ll leave you alone and let you rest…please get some sleep my love” Loki then started walking out

“Wait! Wait!” You pleaded cough!

He turned back at you

“Cuddle with me? It will make me feel better”

Loki smiled and crawled into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you “My darling”

“Loki…mhm I love you, thank you for taking care of me” sniffle

“Of course my love, always, I love you too…now get some rest darling”

You drifted to sleep in his embrace

——————————————————————————

(a/n): hey hey! just something short and sweet hc’s of loki taking care of you hope you enjoy and are having a lovely december so far!

[bluetoraa]

uehehehehehehehe saiki with a reader who loves to bake sweets?? Romantic or platonic is fine!! Take ur time <3333

SAIKI K X BAKER!READER

!warnings!

GN!reader

after science class, the teacher announced a test would be coming up soon.

you went up to saiki asking begging to help you study since you are struggling in the subject.

saiki found you less annoying then the rest of the students at PK, so none the less, he agreed.

you said you’d meet him at his house around, 5PM. not immediately after school but way later since school ended.

when saiki agreed you smiled and said, “i’ll surprise you with something since i know you don’t like having people around, take it as my thanks saiki!”

when he heard you think ‘mh, he likes sweet stuff right? maybe strawberry cake’ll do it! god, i hope he likes it.’

yeah, saiki knew he was gonna love having you over.

when he got home, even though saiki can hear everyones thoughts, was lazer focused onto yours.

‘i gotta taste the batter, what if it’s too bitter? nevermind, i think it tastes good!’

‘i just gotta pack these slices then it’ll be good! im so excited to see him, gosh what if his family’s there?!’

oh yeah. he didn’t tell his parents he’s gonna have you over.

“ah, hi ku! is everything alright?”

“kusou! your father needs some help with somethi-”

“no. and i’m going to have someone here in awhile. so please, do not be weird and swarm them with questions.”

the two of them looked like they were gonna cry.

they were shouting stuff like “our baby ku is making more friends than we though?!” and “oh my! we MUST make dinner to greet them, gosh i hope they like the food!!!”

this is what he didn’t want to happen, but it was too late to stop them because a bell rang at the door.

how did he miss you? he would’ve prepared sooner!!!!

“i’ll get it! ah, im so happy for you ku!”

suddenly saiki’s father appeared behind his mother tearing up in excitement.

“i’ll just open the door.”

“too late kusou, your mothers already opened the door and is obsessing over them and- OH MY GOD IS THAT STRAWBERRY CAKE?”

saiki just stood awkwardly in the back as he watched his parents force you to sit onto their dinner table as you three ate the cake you brought.

“me and y/n have to STUDY. please leave us alone.”

“c’mon ku! eat this delicious cake with us, your friend worked extra hard for this!”

saiki sighed and sat down in the wooden chair beside you as you passed him a slice of your cake.

“i hope you like it saiki, i made it with you in mind. we can study later!”

he grabbed his fork and stabbed a piece of the fluffy cake and put it in his mouth.

when the cake touched his taste buds his aura totally changed!

he had a cutesy, happy aura around him instead of that cold feeling that surrounds him at all times.

he’s smiling while going for the last bite of the cake but suddenly drops the smile as it hits him thats that is the last bite of his slice.

“well, we better get studying huh? should we stay here or go to your room saiki?”

“my room.”

the two of you studied until you physically, mentally and spiritually could not.

when you were getting ready to leave saiki asked you,

“do you know how to make coffee jelly?”

“absolutely i do! my nephew loves it so i make it for him all the time!”

“could you make it for me tomorrow for lunch? its fine if you can’t..”

“awe, of course i can saiki! but i gotta get going, my moms gonna freak if i don’t get home soon.”

before you could even open the door his mom’s rushing to you thanking you for coming and how you’re so good looking!

oh ku must be so lucky if your his friend, maybe you guys should—

alright thats enough!

saiki rushed you out of the door and wished you well and quickly teleported to his room to avoid the questions he knows he’s gonna get drowned in.

in the blink of an eye saiki was in bed ready to sleep but he couldn’t.

not because of the incoming thoughts from others 24/7, because he was fantasizing about that coffee jelly he was gonna eat tomorrow.

saiki may be an all powerful being with no weakness, but your treats made him feel normal.

he really really likes your baking and you. <3

AUTHOR NOTES!

haha…hi guys.

pls dont be mad😭😭 i just lowkey forgot that i post fics…!

but i’m gettinh ready to post another fic today! i swear! maybe tomorrow.

december 3rd, 2022. 6:42.

[hsgucci94]

Her first

Summary: The one where Y/N joins One Direction on tour and decides to lose it to Harry.

Content warnings: first-time sex, fluff, ~ you might actually fall in love ~.

Word count: 2k

A/N: i’m a sucker for cute long hair harry, so in my mind this took place in 2015, while One Direction was still on tour :’)

masterlist

———

Harry's lips tasted like candy..., maybe because they were so pink and fluffy, or maybe because he had just been eating some of the one Y/N bought from the candy shop around the corner. Either way, his lips were addictive, and she always found herself gluing them to hers whenever she had the chance.

Another day, another kissing session, and she was not complaining at all. Ever since she joined One Direction on tour a couple of weeks back, neither her or Harry had been able to stay away from one another for too long. They ate, walked everywhere and practically spent their days together. The only two moments along the day where they weren't inseparable were when he was onstage and when they both went to sleep. They'd been together for four months now, but so far, they hadn't taken it further than kissing. They hadn't had the chance to just yet. In fact, this was the first time they were kissing in such an intimate place: his bedroom.

Parks, friends' parties, and even backstage: they had kissed almost everywhere, but always open-pit. Which was something that came to Y/N’s mind the moment he rested his hand on top of her knee. Nothing he hadn't done before, but when he had, there were people around and in that moment none was.

“I…,” she gulped, suddenly pulling away from him. She bit the inside of her cheek while she looked away. Her heart started beating hard against her chest, resounding through her ears.

Harry frowned, quickly fixing his posture, as well as the noticeable boner that had started growing in his jeans, "ls everything alright, baby?"

She could feel her cheeks turning red, while her anxiety was slowly but intensely making an appearance after days of barely hearing from her. She would have lied and told him she was fine, but the sweat in the palms of her hands and her sudden stutter gave it away before she could come up with an excuse.

"Y/N?" he softly spoke, both scared and concerned, "What's wrong?"

"I... l'Il come by later."

"No," he carefully wrapped his hand around her wrist, keeping her sat on the bed, "Tell me, please. I can't let you leave the room like this," he gulped, "Did I... do something?"

No... Yes? The whole situation was embarrassing to the core, she thought to herself.

"I, um-" she bit the inside of her cheek so hard she made herself bleed, "This level of intimacy... I've never gone further than a few steamy kisses, Harry. And now you, um, you're getting a bit excited down there and...", she could only murmur those words, unable to bring her voice to sound normal while she mouthed them out.

For a split second he just stood there, looking at her, until he finally understood what exactly she was trying to say. His eyes opened slightly, his lips parted, before a relieved sigh escaped from them. The corners of his mouth curled into a smile.

"Oh, God... You almost gave me a heart attack, Y/N." He chuckled, shaking his head. Her cheeks were now even more red if posible. He noticed them; it was hard not to. "It's me, baby." Harry reminded her, "No need to feel embarrassed."

"But it is embarrassing,” she replied, still fighting to get her voice back to its normal tone.

"Why?," he frowned.

"Because..., because I'm inexperienced, Harry."

"So? Listen," he then stretched one of his hands for her, his palm showing, and when she put hers on top of it, he smiled, "I like you, I thought it was obvious?" a shy smiled appeared on her face, "You're dead gorgeous, funny, sweet and caring, just to sum up. I couldn't care less wether you were a virgin or not, trust me. It's fine by me either way," he assured her.

He had kind of got the hint a few days back anyway, when she suggested sleeping in separate rooms. Somehow he was just waiting for her to tell him with complete confidence. He thought they had already reached that point in their relationship where they both could practically talk about anything, but he might had been a bit wrong.

She looked him in the eyes, but didn't say a word.

"You don't believe me, do you?”, he giggled, and she didn't contradict him, which was enough for him to know she actually didn't.

It was not exactly that she didn't believe his words, she just found it hard to understand he didn't care as much as she did about her non existent sexual experience. She was 21 years old and still hadn't shared that type of intimacy with anyone. There was no way he didn't think weird of her, she thought, but apparently he didn't.

"Okay, I know what we're gonna do. From now on, you set the pace. We will kiss, cuddle or whatever whenever you want to and you feel like it. You wanna hold my hand? Feel free to do it. You wanna lay on my chest and play with my hair? You're more than welcome to. Intimacy is not just sex, baby, is everything. It's a closeness in attraction and appeal of thought, emotion and physical language. All three, actually, not just the last one, which we can forget about for now. How does that sound?"

By the time he stopped talking she was speechless, too caught off guard from all he had previously said and how good his words made her feel.

"Y/N?”, he called her, trying to get her to say something. Anything, really. Instead of trying to form a coherent sentence, something she was just not able to do after hearing him talk, she looked down at hers and Harry's hand glued together and entwined her fingers with his, slightly squeezing them as an answer.

"What if..., what if I told I was ready?"

"Then I'd kiss you like I was a few minutes ago and l'd try my best to make you feel good," he said, "Sex is fun. And when you feel ready, we can try it together. But don't feel pressured to do anything you're not comfortable with, okay?"

She nodded, and he brought her to him, her head now resting on his shoulder. "I really wanna do it, though," she admitted.

"Won't you rather wait a bit?"

"A bit more you mean?" she lifted her face to look at him, giggling, and making him giggle as well.

"Are you sure about this? I don't mind-," she didn't let him finish, and pressed her lips against his instead. "Alright, got it," he chuckled, "C'mere."

He grabbed her hand, and walked them both to the side of the bed, where they stood in front one another as they both carefully stripped down their clothes, their eyes constantly fixed on the other.

"Fuck, you're perfect, Y/N. Every inch of you is," he murmured, his eyes going up and down her body as she simply stayed there, not even having the urge to cover her skin with her arms because she was not feeling uncomfortable at all. Harry was looking at her as someone would look at art in a museum, entirely taking in the sight of her that was in front of him: her chest, her waist, her belly button, the scar right under her hips…, everything.

When she laid on the mattress, he did, too.

"I need you to spread your legs for me. That's right," he smiled at her when she did, his hands on the inside of her tights to keep them open while he positioned between them.

When he was at her entrance, he checked with her one more time to see if she still wanted to go on, and when she gave him a nod, it wasn't enough for him, "I need to hear you say it."

"Yes", she replied, a nervous smile between her lips, and that's how he got the green light.

"It's gonna hurt a bit, baby... I'Il try ease the pain, though.” When she felt him inside her, she momentarily held her breath. "I need you to relax," he murmured, pressing their foreheads together, "Play with my curls, yeah? I know you love that. Get distracted with them, while you keep on looking at me so I can read your face at every move. Can you do that for me?”

She nodded, burying one of her hands in his hair, the other grabbing a piece of bedsheet to pull at whenever the pressure hit harder. He leaned in to kiss her, pressing his lips to hers before moving them somewhere else as he got deeper into her, always being careful not to be too harsh with every movement; he didn't want to hurt her.

He used his kisses as a distraction, to make the whole process feel less uncomfortable and painful for her. He left them on her neck and on her collarbone. In the back of her ear as well, where he soon learnt she had a soft spot that made her slightly shiver whenever his lips brushed against it. Soft movements and calculated thrusts helped him navigate inside of her until he reached his final destination, his body slightly shivering on top of hers when he did. His head fell on Y/N, his long hair tickling her cheeks while his face was hidden in the crook of her neck.

He then moved his head up and looked at her, "You did so good, baby." She blushed a bit. "I promise it'll only get better from now on," he pressed his lips to hers, making her smile mid-kiss. He slowly pulled out of her, murmuring a few "Sorry, baby.…. I'm sorry," whenever she made a grimace. She was still a bit too sensitive.

Harry got ride of the condom, before laying next to her on the bed, one of his arms grabbing her by her waist to turn her to him, her face now just inches away from his.

"How are you feeling?"

Y/N smiled at him, caressing his cheek, "I'm achy, but I'm okay." He nodded, smiling too, and kissed her lips again.

"I need you to go to the bathroom and make sure you pee. I'll wait for you right here to cuddle." He then moved his body a bit to let her out of bed.

A few steps later, she was already sat on toilet. She hadn't even bothered to switch on the light; it was going to be quick. She smirked, casually realising what had just happened a few seconds back.

"And that, folks, is how you lose your V-card to Harry Styles," she shouted. She heard his hysterical laugh right away, which only made her smile bigger.

"Hurry back, you crazy woman. I want cuddles!"

When she went back to bed, he anxiously pulled her to him, locking his legs with hers. His cock slightly brushed against her leg, but she pretended she didn't feel it. Instead, she focused on his embrace, on his emerald green eyes and his rosey lips that adorably smiled at her.

"Can I sleep here with you tonight?”, she said after some time, enjoying the closeness she was experiencing with someone for the first time.

"Tonight and every night if you wish," he replied, kissing her on the forehead, "I'd hate to see you leave to your room one more night."

"I'd hate to leave, too," she admitted.

"That's it, then, it's been settled: as of right now, we'll share the bed wherever we go." She giggled, fully agreeing with that statement.

After some more late night talking, her eyes started to feel way too heavy for her to keep them open, and ended up falling asleep in Harry's arms, him drifting away not much later.

[flamemittens]

maybe for morgayne and gortash?

Flower Language prompts from here!

Gortash x F!Durge. 1.3k words. *Act 3 spoilers*.

*Now extended and on AO3*

Black-eyed Susan - "Revenge tastes sweet, and so are you."

The first time she meets with him is shortly after the coronation ceremony.

Her companions do not want her to go alone, but Morgayne insists. It is better this way. There is an inexorable pull towards the man that she finds she cannot ignore, and he seems to have at least some of the answers she seeks—if he is telling the truth. They have heard the rumours—from whispers that coil in dark corners, to braver shouts that ring off the buildings and cobblestoned streets—all over parts of the city and its outskirts; in his rise from upstart lordling to city ruler and protector, he has used everything and everyone—whether at his disposal or not—to ascend.

She finds him upstairs in his office, as promised.

He assures her that their plans can still be brought to fruition. He confidently directs, explains to her what they should do, and Gods, that evasive something in her wants to listen. It is all so frustratingly, distantly recognizable. Hypnotic, in a way.

There must be more to it, she thinks. To them. She recalls the torn page she found in the Moonrise mindflayer colony, and its frenetic, tormented penmanship.

“Lord Gortash. Who were we to each other? Really?”

He seems to wince, for some reason, at her use of his title. After a brief silence, he finally offers his answer.

“I meant what I said in the audience hall. You can use that as a reference if you wish.”

Morgayne frowns. “As strange as it may seem, that does not make things much clearer. I only have more questions.”

“Well then. Allow me to fill in some more of the specifics for you, in a way that leaves no room for interpretation.”

“Please do.”

“Have a seat, then.” He sees her hesitate, and adds, in a strangely gentler tone, “I insist.”

They talk for an hour before she takes her leave.

--

She returns to him again a day or two later. She doesn’t really know what draws her there; perhaps it is this nostalgic, tenuous thread of intimacy and trust that she cannot yet determine the root of.

They talk further.

“How are your memories?” he asks, after a while.

Morgayne sighs. “It’s like trying to complete a puzzle but all the pieces are broken, scattered, and some will forever be missing. However, some things are coming back to me, I think. Slowly.”

Something like delight flares in his dark eyes. Something like hope.

She stays for longer this time.

“How was your Archduke, darling?” Astarion asks later as he sidles up to her on her return to the Elfsong, amusement plain on his beautiful features.

“He is not my Archduke” she counters flatly, feeling none of the conviction she tries so hard to imbue the words with.

--

“I heard you went to the Hells today” Gortash begins the next time she visits him. “You’ve been busy, my dear.”

“Yes” she confirms.

She tells him about it all, of Helsik, of Hope, of Nubaldin. Of what the self-important rock gnome revealed before she was compelled to sear the flesh from his bones, to burn away his smug grin—but not how she later felt she had been told part of the story before. That she keeps to herself for now. She speaks of the Master of the House, and how she robbed him blind.

Any other eyes on the scene would think he is not reacting, but she sees something subtle in the set of his jaw, the rise of his shoulders, the pitch of his eyes. How one clawed gauntlet grips the edge of the table, pressing marks into the oak, how the knuckles on his other tightly fisted hand are turning white. How he won’t even look at her, his gaze fixed on the floor as she talks.

“Raphael is dead” she finishes.

His eyes flick to hers eventually, the tension bleeding out of him faster than it bloomed.

“It’s…curious, isn’t it” he muses.

She doesn’t need to ask what he means.

--

As per their agreement, she goes to him after her duel with Orin.

She tells him what happened, down there in the dark. How she defied her father. How she lay there, drained and dead on the cold, bloodstained stone. How she came to be here now, telling him about it all.

“You have our—your revenge, then. And your freedom.”

She takes a mouthful of the Marsember Blush, lets it linger on her tongue before swallowing. It’s a balmy evening, and the wine is as refreshing as it is spicy.

“Yes. It would seem I do.”

He studies her with an almost unnerving intensity over the rim of his glass.

“I always knew, Mori.” is all he says.

That’s the name engraved on the inside of the ring she wears on her right hand, she thinks.

Her Archduke looks tired tonight.

--

The letter arrives the next afternoon, precisely crafted if a little concise, and mildly fragranced like his coronation invitation. She takes it to a quiet corner to read, drinking in its scent. His scent. It is one line, with an Upper City address at the bottom.

M Come to this address tonight. I can promise you it will be worth your while.” E

Later, she slips away from the others, but is intercepted by Jaheira on the landing outside their rooms. The older half-elf appears concerned. She can’t say it isn’t justified.

“I feel we are losing you.”

“Interesting that you should say that. I feel I am finding myself.” She packs as much of an apology as she can into her smile.

Jaheira looks as if she understands somehow. “Be careful, cub” she says, after a beat.

A short time later, Morgayne reaches the building in question. It’s a sprawling, well-appointed manor like many of those in the Upper City. She glances down one side of the building, spotting a tall trellis thick with ivy that scales up to a balcony. A fragment comes back to her then—heavy rain, gloved fingers slipping on the wood before finally reaching stone.

On entering, she is welcomed and led upstairs; she notices the guards, yes, but also the minimal staff, the thin coat of dust over almost everything—he does not come here much anymore, she recognises.

She is ushered into what she is informed are his personal chambers.

Gortash—Enver—sits at a desk, nearby a large chaise that faces an unlit fireplace. Multiple pages of what looks to be Steel Watcher schematics are spread over its surface. A decanter and tumbler, both half-filled with amber liquid, sit at his elbow. He is casually dressed, save for his golden gauntlets.

“Ah, there you are. You found your way here, at last.”

He rises as she approaches, walking around to stand in front of her.

She sees it all then, plain on his face. Relief. Pride. Desire.

He leans in with a confidence, a lover’s closeness that she supposes he has already earned, long ago. Something clicks into place as she smells the whisky on him—it’s less a moment of realization and more of a punch to the chest that steals her breath away—it speaks of the past, of hushed conversations and affection and trust.

The air seems to become warmer, thicker with every passing moment. He’s orchestrated all of this, she knows now. A tableau of echoes just for her.

She believes it all, feels the truth in it.

He kisses her then, and she kisses him back. It’s clumsy at first, like a musician trying to recall a once beloved tune, but she falls into the familiar rhythm soon enough. He trails his mouth along her jawline and pulls her flush against him, as one hand slides round the back of her neck and up into the base of her braid—the cool metal against her warm skin is…grounding.

“Stay here” he murmurs into her ear. “Where you belong. Don’t go back to them.”

And Gods help her, she stays.