#show your utter and complete devotion

[pendragora]

"Her love is yours...

But only if you give your heart to her."

This particular part of the verse is hitting different every single time

[fangswbenefits]

Devotion

Summary: You give yourself to Miguel, and he's about to show you what complete devotion looks and feels like.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 6.5k

18+. Miguel POV. Reader POV. V*rginity loss. Cr*ampie. F*ngering. C*mplay. Org*sm denial. After care. Edg*ng. Br*eding k*nk. Mentions of pregnancy.

Part 1. Previous Part.

Thank you so much to @ancientbeing10 for the help with the Spanish 🩷

Miguel had scooped you up in his arms effortlessly and carried you to his bedroom, slowly placing you on his bed.

He then leaned in to place a kiss to your temple, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head back, hoping to have his lips on yours once instead. 

The truth was that you were absolutely smitten by him. Relationships are often complicated. People are complicated. Miguel was a complex person, and yet, you felt drawn to him.

You could still remember the first time you realised your feelings for him transcended those of a regular friendship.

It had begun with him looking after you in the lab. It had been innocent and fleeting enough, but the heart works in strange ways. The way he was so adamant about you having to take care of yourself awoke in you a feeling that you were seldom presented with:

Affection.

His lips hovered over yours, snapping you from your thoughts, and you brought a hand to the side of his face. "Please kiss me…"

Even through the darkness that engulfed his room, you could still spot a faint smile.

And he did as you requested. 

Your back arched nearly instantly, seeking more of him. Even though your body had barely recovered from your orgasm, you felt desire flare inside you at an alarming rate.

He quickly deepened the kiss by parting your lips with his experienced tongue, and you eagerly let him in, moving your hand to the back of his neck, yanking him closer.

Nearly losing balance, Miguel placed both hands on either side of you for support, settling in between your legs.

A moan rose in your throat, and you broke the kiss at the feeling of your clit throbbing, as the underside of his cock settled between your folds.

"We can stop."

You stared into his crimson eyes. "Do you want to stop?"

He pressed a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth. "This isn't about me."

Oh.

Desire had clouded your mind, almost making you forget that you were still very much inexperienced. But you still craved the fluidity and eagerness of couples who already knew their way around each other's bodies… with no virginity in the way.

Truth be told, if there was anyone who you'd give yourself to, it would be Miguel O'Hara.

You wouldn't utter these words out of fear of sounding ridiculous at best, and desperate at worst.

"I want more…" you whispered instead, rolling your hips and causing his cock to slide along your clit.

He moaned, but gripped your hip to a halt with strong fingers. "Are you on birth control?"

The question caught you momentarily off guard, and you blinked. "What?"

"If you want to continue… I have to know."

"Yes—Yes, I have an implant."

Hormonal imbalance had been the sole reason, though. Irregular periods accompanied by terrible cramps had taken a toll on you. 

Pregnancy had been the farthest thing on your mind.

Miguel groaned lowly before burying his face in your neck, lips caressing your flushed skin, which caused your hips to jolt into him.

He immediately hissed from the sudden friction, and began to match your tempo deliciously slowly.

You bit your lip, not wanting to moan embarrassingly loudly with each slide of his cock against your clit.

He quickly grazed his thumb across your lower lip, releasing it from your teeth's grasp. "Please… let me hear you…"

The plea mixed with his gentle touch was enough to have your mouth part in a whimper. 

"Louder."

Your eyes fluttered shut once the tips of his fangs began to poke your skin, and you couldn't hold back the loud moan that erupted from your throat.

Wet sounds and sticky sounds echoed all around you, as you began to drip, adding more and more layers of your own wetness around his cock. 

Ambient lights were suddenly switched on, an orange and yellow gradient filling your field of vision.

Miguel brought his lips to your cheek. "Are you sure you want this?"

You sank your fingers into his soft hair, arching your back slightly, your nipple piercings digging into the taut muscles of his chest.

In reality, you were terrified. Miguel seemed to be on the thicker side than what you had expected, and you didn't see yourself taking more than one of his fingers, so his cock definitely overwhelmed you.

Would it hurt? Would he be gentle? Would you even enjoy it?

The preconception that having sex for the first time was a painful ordeal was engraved into your subconscious. Growing up, you had heard some scary recounts of first times from your friends. 

But you were still clinging on to the hope that Miguel knew what he was doing. 

So you took a deep breath, staring into his eyes. "I'm sure…"

He shifted to press a kiss to your forehead. "You can tell me to stop if it gets too much," he murmured. "And I will."

You had no doubt he would. 

But it still made your heart speed up, and an uneasy feeling spread throughout your body rather quickly.

He reached over you to grip one long pillow and eased it under you until your back pressed against it, angling your torso so your eyes could be met with the sight of his cock dripping precum. 

Now you understood why he had turned the lights on.

Then, you heard a click and stared as he removed his dimensional travel watch, placing it on his bedside table.

Oh.

Your soaked folds were wrapped snugly around him, and you gasped as you spotted your swollen clit peeking from under his cock.

"Does that feel good?" Miguel asked, voice strained. 

You could only stare in complete and utter fascination, as he kept dripping more and more precum, the droplets eventually running down along your folds.

"Yes… you're really…" you paused briefly, completely transfixed with the amount of precum. "Is it normal for you to…"

Miguel's eyes followed your line of sight, and he chuckled upon realising what you meant. 

"With you, yes."

His bluntness had your walls clench instinctively around nothing in anticipation.

He then raised his hips and you watched as strings of precum mixed with your wetness dangled from his cock, before he kneeled at your side, slowly dipping the mattress.

You were about to protest at the loss of contact, but he immediately silenced you with a hungry kiss, drawing a couple of whimpers from you.

The taste of him had become so familiar to you by now, that it served to soothe your frustration and impatience.

Your hand tapped around blindly until it found what it was looking for.

Wrapping your fingers tightly around his hard cock, you tugged gently, and Miguel quickly broke the kiss with a delicious hiss. "Fuck…"

The heat pooling between your legs was becoming unbearable and, with each throb of your clit, uncertainty gave way to burning desire.

"Miguel… please…"

He pecked your cheek. "I need you ready for me."

You pouted in response. "I am."

He then brought his lips to your ear, whispering softly, "Can you take more than one of my fingers, then?"

Your heart faltered once you felt one hand trail down from your neck, caressing your hardened nipples, before traveling down until it reached your swollen clit.

"Can you, sweet girl?"

That term of endearment had begun to grow on you, and it almost made you moan out your answer.

"I think… I think so," you said, trying to muster your confidence.

He then pressed a kiss to the pulse point on your neck.

You watched as he traced your clit with his middle finger, coating it in your wetness. The view was hypnotic and you stifled a moan as he rubbed at your entrance once, before plunging the finger inside.

As if seeking an immediate anchor, you gripped his cock tighter, feeling beads of precum steadily spreading across your hand.

"Easy, cariño… not so tight."

This wasn't even considered dirty talking, but it was enough to have you buck your hips against him, and he eased inside easily, burying himself knuckle-deep. 

Crimson eyes watched your every reaction attentively, and you gasped as the heel of his palm pressed down on your throbbing clit.

"Tell me how it feels," Miguel cooed, sliding in and out of you at a torturous pace. "I need to know."

You hummed in response, trying your best to ride his finger through throaty whimpers.

He paused abruptly. "Use your words."

You snapped your half-hooded eyes to him. "It feels good… really go-" the word died in your mouth as he began pumping into you once again.

He unclasped your fingers from around his cock. "I know you're eager, but if you keep touching it like that I won't last…"

You were sticking out your lower lip in a silent plea, but decided to bring your precum-soaked hand to your breasts, letting the warm liquid drip onto your nipples, earning an approving growl from Miguel.

"Do you think you can take a second one?" he asked, bending over to swipe his tongue across one nipple. "You set the pace."

The sight of him tasting himself on you was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced, and you immediately nodded, just so you could feel his tongue again.

Suddenly, you felt a second digit probing at your entrance, and you couldn't keep your chest from heaving rapidly at the stretch.

Miguel shifted closer to you, catching your eyes in his. "Relax, cariño… you're doing great."

You tried. You really did try to stop your walls from tightening around his fingers, but your body was moving involuntarily at the sudden intrusion.

He placed a reassuring kiss on your cheek. "Nearly there…"

A raspy whimper parted your lips and you allowed yourself to relax ever so slightly, until he was buried as deep as he could.

The discomfort of the stretch turned into impatience, and you rolled your hips, seeking more and more friction.

"More…" you mumbled desperately.

Your eyes dropped to the mesmerising motion of both fingers sliding in and out, glistening with your wetness, as your swollen clit peeked from between your folds.

Wet sounds filled your ears and your head fell back once his palm pressed against your clit. Miguel immediately took advantage of this angle, and had his lips on your neck, sacking gently.

The familiar coil in your lower abdomen warned you that you were nearing the point of no return. The delicious friction mixed with his thick fingers fucking you at a steady pace.

"You're so close…"

You bit down on your lip so hard you feared drawing blood. At this point, you didn't trust yourself to utter any words, and chose to lose yourself in the blissful moment.

Miguel took your hand in his and had your fingers wrap around his cock once again with a hiss. He was so thick and hard and warm and leaking so for you.

"Let me fuck your hand…" he growled into your neck, snapping his hips. "Just… squeeze harder…"

You eagerly gripped him tighter, feeling strings of precum sliding down your wrists as he matched his hips with the tempo of his fingers inside you.

"Miguel… Miguel…" you managed to moan as you neared the precipice.

His lips were on yours all of a sudden, and you crumbled under his touch, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue found yours.

You were so close.

So deliciously close.

"You’re doing so good," he praised you over and over again.

Your back arched reflexively as the blissful turbulence of an orgasm began to wash over you.

And then, it was gone.

Your peak never came and your moans immediately died in your throat.

Confusion took a violent hold on you, as you slumped into the pillow and mattress underneath you.

Miguel had removed himself from you entirely, and you were left clenching around nothing, mourning the loss of his touch.

"Miguel…why?!" you protested, as you felt tears prickling the corners of your eyes.

You dropped your hand from his cock to grip the sheets, hoping to rein in your frustration in between sobs.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding truthfully. "I want you to come around my cock, cariño…" he added, before kissing your quivering lips.

You wanted to be mad at him for denying you of your pleasure, but he managed to gain a nod from you instead. 

The mattress dipped around you and even through closed eyes, you could tell he was positioned right between your legs.

He then brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. You felt slightly taken aback, not expecting him to do this.

"You taste really good."

You laughed nervously. "I do?"

His lips tugged upwards. "Don't take my word for it, then."

He brought two glistening digits to your lips and you immediately took them in, savouring yourself on him.

You sucked on him for a moment, enjoying how he looked so smitten by it.

He pressed your tongue flat with his fingers, before sliding out, saliva dangling from the tips.

"You're so hot."

That compliment threw you for a loop, and you immediately looked away, not quite feeling like you deserved it.

He cradled your face with his hands. "Look at me."

Slowly, but surely, your eyes met his as you tried to even out your laboured breaths. 

"You are. You are beautiful."

Your heart clenched and you were left speechless at how genuine he sounded.

You felt like you could cry from this. You didn't cry easily, but his words always found a way to tug at your heartstrings like no one had ever managed to. 

He craned his neck to press a soft kiss to your wet lips, and you felt his cock resting against your throbbing clit.

"Are you sure of this?"

"I am. Please, Miguel…"

He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. "I'm not going to last long," he whispered softly. "But neither are you."

The jab at your stolen orgasm had you pouting at him.

He groaned in response. "Try to relax as much as you can, okay?"

You swallowed hard with a determined nod. "Okay."

You felt his cock slide along your soaked folds, grazing your clit, before you felt a small pressure at your opening.

Instinctively, you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the pain and discomfort.

But Miguel kept his hold on your face with one hand. "Please look at me…" 

You took a deep breath and mustered the strength to stare into his crimson eyes. 

"I've got you," he promised, brushing his knuckles across your heated cheek.

And you believe him.

Even when you felt the tip being pushed slowly into you, your breath caught. Your gaze faltered and your mouth fell open in a strained gasp. You felt his other hand press flat against your thighs, and you spread your legs as much as possible, hoping it would be enough to ease him in.

"Breathe…"

You slowly let out a shaky breath, realising he had stopped.

"Are you okay?"

No.

You wanted to be, but you could feel yourself tense up and you brought your hands to claw at his back, feeling the muscles underneath his skin flex as he adjusted himself.

But you still nodded. You wanted to be done with this. First times can be tricky, but you would have to keep your fear of pain at bay until the worst had come and come.

He pushed his hips into you again, and the stretch had you holding your breath again, as a sharp sting tore through your entire body.

You didn't dare breathe.

Your chest became so tight it ached, and you felt the familiar tension in your eyes, as the first tears began to blur your vision.

"Stop… please…" you begged, tapping on his back.

He immediately halted, his face softening. "Do you want me to pull out?"

You shook your head, the motion causing one tear to slide down from the corner of your eye. He captured it with his lips, a silent reassurance that he would take care of you.

Deep down, you feared he might be turned off by your hesitancy. You were sure he wanted to go deeper and faster, but the discomfort was gripping you hard.

"How much…" you sobbed, staring down at the length of your body to find where the two of you were connected. "... is it almost there?"

Miguel smiled warmly at you. "Nearly there, sweet girl."

Your lungs expanded with a deep inhale and you sighed through your nose. "Go…"

You dug your nails into his skin as he slid deeper inside, drawing a sharp gasp from you. This time, you had to bite down on your lip again, feeling Miguel's unwavering stare on your face.

"Tell me to stop, and I will."

But you didn't want him to stop. Not now. Not when you were so close to being filled to the brim with him. No amount of pain or discomfort would take that away from you now.

He was being so gentle and caring, assuring that you were the priority here. 

And you wanted this to be on equal grounds, soon.

His pleasure would be yours.

Your pleasure would be his.

He was kissing every single tear away, whispering praises, and you knew he was fully buried inside, once he stopped moving again.

This time, you felt him shudder under your touch, breath coming out in shallow pants.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice raspy and shaky.

"Yes."

You would be soon. 

The pain hadn't been as bad as you had expected and once you began to relax, you could feel the remnants of it slowly fading.

The two of you remained still for a few more seconds, with only the erratic breathing keeping you company.  

"I'm not going to last long," he confessed, burying his face in the curve of your neck. "Can you relax a bit more?"

You tried to drain the tension from your muscles, and you immediately felt his cock twitching inside you.

He was so deep...

"Please move," you asked, ready for what was to come.

Miguel inhaled sharply, and you felt him drag it out slowly, earning a few pained whimpers from how thick he was.

Before you could take a deep breath, he slammed slowly into you.

Your clit was swelling up again and you knew he had bottomed out again when you felt his balls press into you.

But you needed more. You needed to feel more.

"Can you go faster…"

He dragged his fangs along your shoulder. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. Please…" you begged.

Miguel set a slow pace at first, and you heard the wet sounds of your pussy clenching around him, which had him groan with each thrust.

Your gaze was on how his cock reappeared only to disappear back inside you, visibly struggling to move past your tightness. 

"So good… fuck…así… no pares," you heard him mumble mindlessly each time he pushed all the way back into you.

You managed to snake one hand in between your bodies, and you immediately gasped as the tips of your fingers slid past your clit only to finally touch his slippery cock.

His pace quickened slightly, and he removed your hand with his, pressing down on your pulsing clit.

"Just… just like that…" you whimpered breathlessly.

You arched into him, your pierced nipples digging into his chest, and he suddenly stilled.

"I need you to come first," he rasped, drawing circles around your clit. "Please… please…"

There was something incredibly riveting about having Miguel O'Hara begging. Such a strong and serious man, was now on top of you, completely taken by how you milked his cock, and how close he was

His thumb left your clit, and he pulled his torso away from you and moved back, pressing your legs together with both hands and pushing your knees into your chest.

The new position nearly pushed you over the edge, as your walls pressed further around his cock. His thumb was on your clit in an instant, and you moaned and whimpered, gripping the sheets with both hands, holding on for dear life, as he skilfully brought you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come for me… clench around me, cariño," he urged desperately.

You heard the sound of fabric tear as your grip tightened around the bedsheets, plunging you into a blinding orgasm. Your vision blurred and you arched your back, feeling rhythmic contractions ripple across your walls, gripping his cock hard.

As your chest heaved rapidly with a rush of adrenaline, you felt him slam into you only twice before reaching his own peak.

"Mierda, te sientes tan bien… carajo," he mumbled in between groans, as he buried himself as deep as possible, finally spilling himself inside.

Even through the numbness of your orgasm, you could feel his cock twitching inside you, filling you with a burst of warmth.

Beads of sweat poured from your skin, and you felt completely spent by the time he finally slid out of you. A whimper escaped your lips once he was fully out, and your walls involuntarily clenched.

You felt him slide his cock along your folds a few times, the added  friction on your oversensitive clit making your jolt.

He released his hold on your legs, and you let them flop down, feeling something beginning to seep out of you.

"Wait here," he said as he slid out of bed and pressing a sloppy kiss on your parted lips. 

You remained still for a few seconds, before curiosity got the best of you, prompting you to slide your band in between your legs. 

A warm liquid began to coat your fingers and you propped yourself on one elbow, watching in awe as your clit and folds were covered in his cum.

You dragged a small quantity from your entrance and brought it to your lips, eager to finally taste it.

Its saltiness and warmth invaded your mouth and collected it with your tongue, slowly swallowing all of it. 

"Does it taste good?"

Your eyes widened slightly as you found Miguel standing next to you, fully naked. He was a complete marvel of muscle and beauty, and you felt heat rise to your cheeks as his burning gaze bore into you.

He had a towel in his hand, and slowly kneeled on the floor, tapping his finger to your jaw to have you fully face him.

Miguel was so very handsome. It was almost criminal. Sweat-damp strands of thick hair covered his forehead and you brought your free hand to brush some of them aside.

"Does it taste good, cariño?"

You smiled innocently, removing your fingers from your mouth. "You can taste it yourself."

Miguel's lips met yours and his tongue slipped past them hungrily. Your eyes fluttered shut and you pushed some of his cum with your tongue into his.

He eventually broke the kiss and you felt the soft fabric of the towel being softly pressed to your forehead.

Some drops of cum coated his gorgeous lips and you found yourself unable to look away from his face.

"Let me take care of you."

Affection and devotion.

You nodded as exhaustion slowly weighed down your body. 

His lips curled into a faint smile and you mimicked him. "What?"

"You're so… perfect," he drawled out, sliding the towel down the side of your face and neck.

You giggled. "Is this a post-sex thing?"

He arched an eyebrow, looking very serious all of a sudden. "You're doubting me?"

Your smile faded slowly. "Oh, I just… I… don't think I'm perfect. No one is."

Miguel pressed his lips together, his gaze shifting to your breasts as he continued to pat the sweat away.

"You are to me," he mumbled.

You had heard so much about love over the years, and thought Tom had been the personification of it in your life. Even after what had happened between you two, you never doubted he was the one who had gotten away.

But now?

You weren't so sure anymore.

And it wasn't because Miguel was so easy to offer you compliments and praises. That was easy to do. It was much harder to be stricter with those one cared about, and Miguel didn't hold back from grounding you when you needed the most. 

After all, he managed to get a hold of your heart with the way he took care of you.

Just like he was doing so now.

He reached in between your legs, and you jolted from the surprise.

"Was I too rough?" he asked, uncertainty dripping from his low voice.

You shook your head. "You were perfect."

His crimson eyes met yours and you smiled warmly, allowing him to clean the cum mixed with your own wetness. 

"You said no one is perfect."

"I'll make an exception for you," you said, feeling your eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

He leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek, and your vision darkened as your breathing steadied. You faintly felt more cum drip out, which Miguel quickly wiped, and vaguely wondered how much was still left inside you.

But your thoughts were cut off by your drowsiness, feeling exhausted and as you lay limp on the mattress.

You were almost dozing off when you heard his voice. "Want to take a shower?"

A grumble left your throat. "Later… I'm so tired."

"I'll carry you."

For the second time that night, Miguel took you in his arms with little to no effort, and sauntered into his bathroom, occasionally pressing loving kisses to your face.

You had looped your arms around his neck for support and groaned lightly as he stepped into the shower, tepid water hitting your skin gently.

"Can you stand?"

"Yes, yes…" you said, fighting through a yawn and landing on your feet and easing your hold around him.

Miguel silently washed your back witj both hands, and you were able to feel more cum drip from inside you, blending in with the running water.

You pressed your forehead to the tile as he moved the wet piece of cloth in between your legs, and you flinched away.

"Did I hurt you?"

"It's just a bit sore…" you breathed out, reaching down to touch your numb clit. "It's fine… don't worry."

You then turned around to face him and tip-toed to place a wet kiss to his jaw.

Adoration didn't even begin to cover how you felt about this man.

Maybe he would be your first 'I love you'.

Maybe.

- 2 months later -

Miguel shot his laser-like string of web to the side wall of glass that led to his apartment. 

The window was open, and he smiled to himself.

You were home.

He flung himself upwards, the opening presenting itself as the perfect entryway, and he swung through it, landing gracefully on the tiled floor. 

His digital mask vanished, and he ran a hand through unruly hair.

Immediately, his senses were hit with the familiar smell of freshly cooked empanadas, and he immediately smiled as you entered the kitchen, specks of flour resting on your cheeks.

"Hey, you," you greeted sweetly.

"Hey."

He closed the gap between you two in an instant, taking your face in his hands.

"Are these empanadas all for myself?"

Your eyes fell to his lips. "Depends."

He dusted off some of the flour with his thumb, raising an eyebrow. "On what?"

"Payment."

"Oh, really?"

You hummed, bringing your lips so close to his, he could feel your breath fanning them lightly.

"What sort of payment, sweet girl?"

He could almost taste you, and his heart jolted in his chest. 

It seemed that he was doomed to having your presence have this permanent effect on him. No matter how much time passed, he could not get accustomed to the hold you had on him 

"One kiss."

He quickly complied, tasting your sweetness.

You were quick to break the kiss, however. "And… promise you won't be upset."

At this, he felt a faint scowl settle on his face. "What did you do?"

The reply to his question came in the form of Peter B. Parker waltzing into the kitchen, with an empanada stuffed in his mouth.

He waved and tried to speak, but his voice only came out muffled and intelligible.

Miguel's scowl deepened and he glared at you, earning an innocent shrug.

"Peter and MJ are visiting, and I thought it would be nice to invite them over," you said endearingly, offering him a napkin.

Peter beamed. "Thank you! And Miguel… not a surprise to see you here," he added, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he grumbled.

MJ walked in with Mayday clinging to her shoulder. "Hey, Miguel!"

He inwary winced, already anticipating an upcoming headache. In all honesty, he just wanted to spend some time with you after arriving from a mission, and now…

"MJ," he greeted flatly, before patting Mayday on the head, her curls bouncing lightly.

She stuck out her tongue in response before breaking into laughter.

"He's not even using doors anymore, Peter," MJ started with a devious smile. "It's serious."

Peter nodded, taking Mayday into his hands. "Definitely serious."

Miguel's scowl deepened further and he watched as you laughed nervously.

The two of you hadn't told anyone about your relationship. Miguel would rather keep it that way.

Why?

Because this was the result, and it annoyed him to no end.

"Oh, wipe that frown off your face, Miguel O'Hara," MJ scolded. "Everyone knows about you two, already."

"What?"

Peter quickly brought Mayday to him. "Here, hold her. It will calm you down!"

Miguel reflexively took her in his arms, but kept his gaze on MJ. "What do you mean?"

She rolled her eyes, joining your side, as you began to clean off the counter. "All the missions together… always coming in together… spending time at the lab," she continued, listing off everything with each finger. "Peter and Jessica told me all about it."

Anger flared inside him briefly, but it quickly plummeted as defeat took over.

"Just a coincidence."

MJ shrugged. "Sure."

Mayday sat on his shoulder, tugging gently at a few strands of his hair, giggling. He winced in pain and removed her from him in an instant, holding her far away from him.

You turned to him and moved to grab her from his grip, pressing her adoringly against your chest. "Don't worry, Mayday. He's just a little bit grumpy, but he's a cutie, too!"

His scowl softened at the sight of Mayday melting into your touch.

You really were a natural at this...

"You're the cutest, though," you whispered in her ear, and she immediately gave you an ear-to-ear grin.

MJ was glaring intensely at him with a knowing smile, and he cleared his throat.

The last thing he needed was them realising how he yearned to be a father, with you carrying his children.

"You're so good with Mayday," Peter praised, stealing another empanada from the plate, and earning a death glare from Miguel who considered hiding them away. "Imagine Mayday and Jessica's kid having another friend to play with!"

Your eyes widened lightly. "Oh! I… I think…"

Miguel wanted to catapult Peter through the window, but he wouldn't do so in front of his wife and child. He always found a way to be inconvenient, and even though Miguel agreed with him on this, he couldn't let it show.

Out of spite.

MJ motioned for him to cut it off, and the two of them walked out, leaving a babbling MJ with you.

You chuckled. "They're good fun, right?"

No.

But he wouldn't dispute that with you, because this was what you did. You adored making people around you feel included and your love language definitely spoke louder.

As you rocked Mayday against your chest, lulling her into a peaceful silence. 

"Actually, I have something for you," you whispered with a smile.

Miguel's brow quirked again. "Please don't tell me Hobie Brown is about to burst through the ceiling."

His remark caused you to stifle a giggle. "No, but he might pop up later today."

Miguel's face hardened again.

"I'm kidding, Mr. Grumpy," you said, pointing to an envelope on the table. "Open it."

He glared suspiciously at you before shifting his attention to the piece of paper. Once he unsealed it, he peered closely at what was inside.

A small plastic rod.

His eyes widened and his lips parted.

That was…

"Yeah. I had my implant removed," you said, standing close to him. "The spider-doctor told me to wait out for my next cycle, but…" You began rubbing Mayday's back as she dozed off with a yawn. "Pregnancy can happen earlier than that if we try…"

Miguel was too perplexed to say anything.

You were indeed aware of his breeding kink, and he would gladly give you as much time as you needed. Even if you ended up deciding not wanting to have children, he would be more than fine with that decision.

He was too in love with you to push you beyond your comfort zone.

And yet… here you were, willingly fulfilling his wishes.

"Say something," you said, nudging his arm with yours.

He swallowed, finally meeting your eyes. "You didn't have to…"

You nodded. "But I want to, Miguel. And I know you want it, too."

There was no denying it. The past few months had been torturous at times. Each time he fucked you raw and spilled inside you, knowing fully well nothing would come of it. Witnessing his seed going to waste would torment him.

He pressed his hand to your head and pulled you against him, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Te amo."

You lifted your head to stare at him. "I love you, too."

- A couple of weeks later -

Miguel stormed into the lab later that afternoon, needing a refill of his serum.

But he didn't expect to see you still there, sitting on a chair, and tapping at the screen in front of you.

"What happened?"

Your head turned and he was met with tired eyes. "Oh, I was wondering if you could draw some blood."

Alarm bells chimed inside his head right away and he was quickly in front of you, scanning your face for any signs of distress.

"I'm okay, Miguel," you assured him with a faint curl of your lips. "Just want to check something."

You sounded off.

So he quickly gathered what he needed to comply with your request, always eyeing you from the corner of his eye.

He came to sit next to you and motioned his fingers so you'd lay out your arm for him.

"Did something happen?" he pressed again, pulling the sleeve of your lab coat upwards.

You shook your head, gaze dropping to his hands. 

He wasn't convinced in the slightest, but decided to give you some space, offering a respectful silence.

Hi fingers tapped your skin, tied a latex glove just above your elbow as a tournique, seeking a bulging vein. 

"It's funny…" you said with a sigh. 

Miguel lifted his eyes briefly, finding yours staring right back at him. "What is?"

The faintest tug at the corner of your lips had him relax slightly. 

"The first time I met you… you also drew my blood for testing," you said, and your tone told him you held the memory of it fondly. "And now, here we are again."

"Under different circumstances, I'm sure."

"Better ones."

He was unsure of what you meant by that, so he dropped his eyes to your arm again. Once he found what he was looking for, he punctured the soft barrier of skin, watching as the vial in between his fingers filled with liquid.

As he withdrew from you and pressed a pad to the wound, a weird feeling began to loom over him.

Could it be that...

He eyed you curiously, hoping for you to confirm his suspicions, but you remained silent.

"Apply some pressure," he asked, and you nodded, your fingers replacing his.

Scooting over to the analysis machine, he placed the vial inside and watched the liquid being sucked inside.

"Why do you need your blood tested?"

You shrugged, but he could sense you were holding something back.

By the time the first results began to appear on the hovering screen, he scanned them, looking for an outlier. 

It didn't take long for it to show up.

Miguel's heart lurched as the confirmation hit him, and he checked it twice, but there was no mistake.

< hCG (mIU/ml) - 145 >

The human chorionic gonadotropin was colloquially referred to as the pregnancy hormone, and its level could inform how far along a pregnancy was. 

This value had Miguel guess you were around three weeks. 

"Why didn’t you tell me right away?" he managed to ask, swallowing the lump in his throat.

He felt you looping your arm around his, resting your head on it. "I figured it would be more romantic than peeing on a stick and showing it to you," you chuckled softly.

In all honesty, he wouldn't care either way. 

How could he?

In front of him was the proof that the bond he shared with you was now bearing fruit.

"... besides… this is your field, right? Genetics," you said, tightening your grip around him. "It felt right for you to find out this way."

Miguel felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, upon realising just how you never missed anything. Down to the last detail. Everything you did always held a purpose, no matter how insignificant it might seem at first.

"I…"

You shifted until you were in front of him, and quickly laced your arms around his waist, placing your chin on his broad chest, eyeing him with absolute adoration. "Come on, Miguel… don't tell me you're surprised it happened so quickly."

He truly wasn't.

He had bred you over and over again over the past few weeks, always making sure you would lay still after each time, a pillow under you, not allowing any cum from going to waste.

You had protested at first, but he excelled at providing after care, and those sessions soon turned into opportunities at exploring your intimacy to the point you were eager to be filled over and over again.

His sweet girl…

"I think I love you," he blurted out, immediately realising how ridiculous he sounded. 

Your chuckle reverberated across his skin. "You think? I hope you're more sure than that. There's no turning back now."

His arms circled you, pulling you into a tighter embrace as his gaze met yours. "Thank you."

You quirked an eyebrow. "For what?"

"Everything."

Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who has been with this story from beginning to end. It means a lot. I hope you were able to connect with these characters in one way or another 🩷 I will be missing Miguel and sweet girl so much... this story wouldn't be anything without your vital support, and I will forever be grateful! Ruby~

Masterlist

[nariism]

to the ends of our world — i. rin

academic rivals to lovers + "i could kiss you right now!" + "we fell asleep by accident and woke up as a mess of tangled limbs."

synopsis. all rin said was that he would help you with calculus. he didn't think he'd be waking up to your morning breath and wishing the moment would last forever.

wc. 1.6k

notes. kind of a highschool au where rin is out for the season because of an injury 🙏 also kind of a one-sided rivalry because rin is a loser :p

— for @itoshiexx <3 | event masterlist ✉️

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I could kiss you right now.

Those were the last words you spoke to Rin almost an hour ago.

He's agonizing over it, really. He probably should have at least said something back to you instead of shutting you out like he does every time he feels himself getting too close.

Instead he's dutifully working through his calculus notebook.

If he focuses enough on perfecting derivatives, he can ignore the way your presence beside him has only gotten weightier. But it's hard to do that when the words are still echoing in his mind.

I could kiss you right now.

You're just as adamant on finishing your workbook, eyes glued to the page and attention completely devoted to making numbers dance.

When you asked him earlier in the day if he could help you with the new sets, he was confused. You'd always been the one to best him.

It irritated him. You reminded him too much of his big brother.

But then he saw your notebook. You'd hesitantly handed it over to him when you showed up at his doorstep with courtesy snacks and a bag of oranges for his mother.

(Which she gushed about, by the way. He felt like burying himself in a hole when she asked if you were dating.)

You'd been trying for so long to figure out the solutions that some areas of the page were torn where you had kept erasing and redoing the work. He even found things scribbled out in frustration.

He would have laughed if you didn't have such a grim look on your face. Rin was never one for humour, anyways.

He reluctantly agreed to help, though he was sure your other grades would make up for one botched math unit. It was the petty pride in him speaking—in reality, the way you looked like you were on the verge of tears was enough to send him into fight or flight mode.

He had never seen such a dazed, stressed expression on you before. You were the epitome of a model student—good grades, class representative, and friendly enough that no one ever wanted to step on your toes.

No one but Rin, that is.

He told himself he hated you. Goody-two shoes. Smiley. Obliviously and annoyingly cheerful. Successful enough to do anything you wanted to do, so long as you had the drive.

Everything Rin would have been if he hadn't injured his knee right before the football season started.

But what he thought he felt about you was a lie. He hadn't even realized it until you were sitting down on his bed, knee bumping into him as you lounged there criss-crossed.

He'd always just seen you as the person who sat in front of him in homeroom. Untouchable. He envied you, even though his grades were nearly as good now that he had all the time in the world to study.

Now, though, you're just as human as he is.

Rin can see your face instead of the back of your head. Your words are meant for him—thanking him, praising how easy his method for solving these equations is.

Then, you shattered his daydream.

I could kiss you right now.

You said it so unseriously, not even looking at him when you did. You had gotten to the end of your third page of work, conquering the math with ease now that you understood it.

It was your funny way of expressing gratitude. He knows you didn't mean anything by it, definitely. But it's been stuck in his mind.

And neither of you have uttered a word to each other since.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when you slam your pencil down in your notebook and shut it with an audible thud.

"Break time!" You sigh blissfully, though he isn't sure if you're talking to him or yourself.

You flop back into his mattress and he just stares in quiet disbelief while you scroll through your phone like you fucking pay rent here.

Rin debates whether or not to kick you off his bed so that he can finish his homework without distraction, or if he should just leave you be. Ultimately, he decides that it's too much of a hassle to deal with confrontation and silently goes back to doing derivatives.

He would feel bad shoving you away when you finally started talking to him, after all. And you look so at ease now, with your work almost done.

(Yeah, you started working at a faster pace than him with his method. You seriously piss him off.)

He comes to the conclusion that this is going to be a one-time thing. Rin hates the twist of despair in his stomach seeing you about to burst into tears.

He hates the peace that fills him when you're back to your smiling self even more.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Rin wakes up to warmth.

Groggily, he blinks the sleep out of his eyes until they adjust to the light of sunrise pouring into his room.

It's strange. He doesn't remember falling asleep at all.

What was he doing last night? He shifts a little bit and freezes when he hears the crinkle of paper beneath him.

Oh, his calculus homework. Did he finish it? It's due today.

He's just about to sit himself up to check the time and hope he has at least another hour to sleep before school, when he realizes much too late that there's a weight on his arm.

Rin gets yanked back by the arm that's pinned down, yelping quietly in surprise.

And then everything hits him like a goddamn truck.

Maybe more like a freight train, really, because he feels like he's about to have a fucking heart attack. Rin dares to turn his head, so comically slow that it's like life itself moves in slow motion.

Somehow in your sleep, you've become a tangled mess of limbs.

His arm is tucked under your neck—the culprit for making him whelp like a child when he tried to sit up. Your legs are twisted together and... Oh god. His free hand is resting where your hip melts into your thigh.

Panic rises in his chest because one, he's never had another person in his bed before. Period. And two, because there's heat boiling in the pit of his stomach and he's pretty sure he's about to keel over and pass away.

Just as he's about to shove you off the bed, realization dawns on him.

You look so peaceful when you sleep.

Your breath smells, and your hair has gotten tangled under the weight of his arm. You're muttering to yourself quietly in your sleep, and he's pretty sure he can see a bit of drool in the corner of your lip.

He so desperately wishes that his first thought would be to tease you about this until the end of time. Or maybe use it as blackmail against you, if you were to get a higher grade on the upcoming calculus exam because of his methods.

But instead, his first thought is that he never wants to move from this position. That he needs to savour this moment.

It's horrifying.

18 hours ago, you pranced up to the side of Rin's desk and asked if he could help you with the problem set.

All he said was that he would help you with calculus.

He didn't expect you to show up at his door right after dinner. And he didn't expect you to seat yourself on his bed before he could offer you the chair at his desk.

He certainly didn't think he'd be waking up to your morning breath and wishing the moment would last forever.

You've just been a bag full of mysteries. Rin hates mysteries. It's part of the reason why math works for him—no surprises, no ambiguity. There's always an answer.

Rin can't formulate an answer on why his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his ribcage.

You shuffle in his arms and suddenly the pounding in his chest ceases.

Is this what death feels like?

"Rin?" You murmur sleepily, shifting into his warmth as if this is something regular classmates should be doing. "What time is it?"

"I can't see the clock," he deadpans, though it's just a facade to hide how utterly enamoured he is right now. "It's behind you."

You groan, rolling over to check the time. He breathes a sigh of relief as you pull away but it gets stuck in his throat when you collapse back into him, your back against his chest.

"6:07," you tell him nonchalantly. And then you cozy yourself up in the blankets again, nice and warm, and go back to sleep.

"Hey," he shakes you lightly. "Don't just go back to bed, moron."

"We can talk about the homework later," you mumble as if that's what he fucking meant.

A million words run through his mind, parading to the tip of his tongue where they all fall off and die. He can't find them when you're slotting yourself closer and closer in your sleep, squeezing his arm against your cheek.

Eventually, he decides that it's not worth the hassle of getting up and having you see his flustered face right now. You'd never let him live it down.

So he closes his eyes and pretends that you're not just the person who sits in front of him in homeroom. Goody-two shoes. Smiley. Obliviously and annoyingly cheerful.

"I could..."

He swallows loudly, the words like molasses in his throat.

I could kiss you right now.

You're dead to the world, but he doesn't dare speak the thought into existence, anyway.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

("Rin! 95%!"

You shove your paper into his face and he opens his mouth to snark back about it.

But then you leap forward and press a kiss to his cheek. Everything in his head instantly melts into mush.

"You're the best," you gush.

He just glowers at you with burning red cheeks.)

[oathkeeper-of-tarth]

I have all the time in the world. How about you?

There is a theme to Aylin's threats and vows of vengeance that I've noticed and that I want to share.

Do what you will. I cannot prevent you. But you know as well as I, I will come for you. One day.

That one, for example, is for Balthazar, while she is imprisoned.

I cannot prevent you. But I can advise you. Be careful to whom you yoke your fate. One day, when he is severed from me, Ketheric will die. I will not. And when I am freed, I will remember whose recompense to claim.

Did you expect me to beg? To cry? To plead? For what. I accept my fate - for now. But the life of a divine is longer than you can fathom, Sharran. And this cold chapter will close, one day.

And those are for you, when you've yet to harm her, when she's still only warning you off. But then, if you choose to try to kill her, like so many before you:

Was it everything you hoped for? Was it sweet, Sharran, to murder a paladin of Selûne - her daughter - her sword? Congratulations - your mistress Shar will write your name on her hand. And I? I will come for you. When the time is right.

The next bit depends on your character's gender:

When your sons are grown and your beard is long and wiry; when you cannot hold your nightly water and your nose grows as long as your weary, weary days… When your daughters are grown and your chin sprouts whiskers dark - when your teeth are yellow as corn and your sleep grows short and your days are long and weary, so weary… When your children are grown and your eyes are weak; when your nose grows as long as your weary, weary days…

Ultimately, your fate will be the same:

That is when this immortal will visit you, Sharran. That is when I will show you what it is to be afraid.

All these long-term promises of one day, coupled with inevitability.

I find it so striking that most of Aylin's threats include her flaunting and flexing her immortality (as well as her flawless, long memory) over whoever has wronged her.

Present your weapon, soldier. Plunge it into the Nightsong. I cannot stop you. But know this: I never forget a face. HAH! Are you afraid, Sharran? Do you rattle and jump at the realisation that an immortal has your face emblazoned in her mind forevermore?

Everything is but a passing inconvenience to her, she claims, even a century of imprisonment and torment. Outlasting, outliving - that is simply what she does and what she chooses to intimidate with. Promising to wait until you are old and decrepit, until after you've experienced all the vagaries of age that she never will, leaving her sword hanging over your head throughout the entire miserable lifespan that she has permitted you to have.

Then, if you wrong her in a very heinous way, there's the extreme one of outliving not only you, but killing and extinguishing your entire bloodline in order to obliterate every trace of you from existence:

WHEN I AM FREE, I WILL DESTROY YOU! I WILL MURDER YOU, AND YOUR CHILDREN, AND THEIR CHILDREN BESIDE! I will rip this world apart, plank and beam, until every iota of your being is scalded by my light. This is my promise. This is my vow.

Over and over, Aylin builds her oaths of vengeance on the foundations of an utter, even proud, certainty that she will see her foe end, one way or another, due to her nature and the simple fact of her own endlessness. This is the well she keeps coming back to.

And I find all of this, this consistent insistence on it, so striking and ironic, because one of her other main emotional threads is being thoroughly enraptured by and devoted to and just so completely in love with a mortal. One who will age and die and pass into memory just like all the targets of her rage - if I think of Isobel when I re-read all of that dialogue up there, it seems to cut both ways so deeply. But then there's the extra element that every single one of these is spoken when she either knows or is (incorrectly) convinced that Isobel is dead. Isobel, who didn't get to grow old, and who is both an anchor to humanity and a very painful reminder of the truth of Aylin's situation being twofold.

Aylin will outlast what she hates, yes, but she will outlast what she loves as well.

[obriengf]

My Beloved || Thomas x Reader

Summary: Thomas is filled with emotion as you both seek out a way to show just how much love you truly hold for one another. Words: 7.5k Warnings: SMUT18+!!!, loss of virginity, masturbation, p in v, this is honestly very fluffy and sweet okay  Notes: okay so... this started off good then towards the end i got desperate to finish it and it turns rushed i think?????? a little bad??????? anyway, these guys would have NO idea about sex ed tbh just what they’ve learnt from each other... because i feel like WCKD had better things to do, like brainwashing everyone, instead of teaching kids about the birds and the bees. long story short just go with it and no judging on my smut please i dont write it often!!!

There’s a boy, and he’s so beautiful it hurts. 

Among the fiery glow of the bonfire flames, his eyes luminate with golden specks - so bright, so mesmerising, that you cannot stop staring from beyond the heated curtain. You catch his gaze and the way his smile quirks upward, bashfulness flushing his cheeks and provoking his teeth to sink sinfully into the plusness of his lip. It brings a warmth to your chest - a sensation of adoration, burning hotter than the flames separating you both. It travels to your fingers with an itch that wants you to jump to the boy, embrace him, kiss him, love him. He had been everyone’s saviour, but to you, he saved more than just your life; he brought colour back to your dull days, allowing you to see the vibrancy that radiated with pure intentions from your daily sunlight. He returned hope to your anxious mind and settled the prior need to look over your shoulder for danger every spare second. He made you feel so incredibly loved to the point where you stopped breathing and your heart would swell with anticipating warmth. There’s a boy, and he’s so perfect it hurts, in the most breathtaking way. 

Thomas could feel you staring. He revelled in the way that your eyes sparkled, and how you looked at him as if he put the stars in the sky. He was still getting used to others viewing him as their paladin, but you were different - it was much simpler, housing purity and sincere devotion, seeing the boy as your ending. You fell in love in the wrong place at the wrong time, surrounded by chaos and imminent peril, but the clawing need to stay by the other’s side brought you both to your much-deserved salvation; and better yet, into the forever hold of each other’s arms.

The boy couldn’t understand his emotions as they intensified, but he knew that it was longing. He knew that they yearned for you. He didn’t have the time or space to stop and consider how his body was growing and reacting to being around your own, the desperation to run and hide and fight had eventually become all that he could think about - until it was all over, and you were all safe. Now, those feelings returned and his thoughts drifted to how your kiss has started to ignite something in his gut, and how it spread through his veins to the point where he wanted to dig his fingers into your flesh and never let go. 

It was a topic of conversation that he had previously brought up through loose lips and in between inebriated breaths; Minho on the receiving end with a bit more sobriety, but he was still dazed as he listened with widened eyes and unsplit attention. It was near comic how Thomas had him on the edge of his seat - he couldn’t put into words just how he was feeling, but his friend could see the depth behind the amazed look that glassed over whisky hues and how a curt smile perked at his lips. Minho very much understood that desiring need, the way complete and utter endearment could make a person feel like they were floating effortlessly on cloud nine. Thomas was the first person he went to when he was ready to take that step further with the sweet girl from the kitchens - and now it had turned full circle, and Minho had never been happier that love had struck his closest friends. 

The flames began to die, juxtaposed to the rising moon that now bathed the Safe Haven in beautiful luminescence. Thomas could see you much clearer now, and it made your stomach flutter at how fervently he appeared. You found yourself growing more heated the further you allowed yourself to fall for the brunette boy; your eyes lingering that little bit longer, the need to nestle into the side of his body growing stronger, and your heart rapidly reverberating in your chest just that much harder. It was as if every nerve was ablaze with want, and it was such an unfamiliar sensation that you were starting to feel nauseous. And you didn’t want it to end.

It wasn’t long before Thomas stood, dusting at his covered thighs to rid the ash that sprinkled from the rising smoke. He moved slowly, almost with hesitance, but it was the bashful and budding thump from his heart that drew him toward you. Through the curtain of your lashes, you peered up at him as he stopped only a mere foot or so in front of you, his hand extended, and a chest filled with held breath that he hoped you wouldn’t notice. He was bathed in a fiery afterglow, his figure enveloped by golden flickers. You sighed dreamily. 

“Want me to walk you back to your hut?” His voice was quiet, a gentle hum as it held the possibility of diffidence. He always held a sort of shyness when it came to you, especially when it allowed him to hold your hand and selfishly receive all of your undivided attention. 

A rosy hue climbed your neck, speckling your cheeks with a blush that exceeded even the dancing flames of heat before you. It felt so incredibly right as your palm confidently slid over his own, granting Thomas permission to lightly grasp at your wrist and provide some strength in pulling you up. He always escorted you, these days. Part of him dreaded that if he didn’t, then something would happen to you. Whilst other parts craved the company you gave and the adoration you unforgivingly showered him in. Maybe, it was just his way of showing the supplemental gladers that surround you both that you would always leave with him, because you’re simply his. 

Regardless - your hands were quick to wrap around his arm, tugging the boy close to you as you clasped your fingers with his. Bidding farewell to your friends and fellow survivors hardly took any time before Thomas was guiding you away, the path he followed so well-known by now that he swore he could travel it in his sleep. The lanterns that usually adorned your way had already died down, softened by the late night, yet complemented beautifully with the rising blanket of radiant moonlight. It would be hard for you to form words around just how contented you felt in this moment; calmed by the gentle breeze wafting from the ocean shores of the Safe Haven, and lulled when it rustled nearby palm trees in harmony with the now distant joyousness abandoned back at the bonfire. 

Thomas’ thumb absentmindedly rubbed at your hand as your head dropped to his shoulder, the faint smell of burnt wood tickling your nostrils after becoming woven into the cotton of his shirt. You managed a small hum, surprising yourself when you inner thoughts left your lips with quiet notes, “Do you think it’ll stay like this forever?” 

“What will stay?” He replied, his eyes briefly glancing down to you, lips curling into a slight smirk at how in thought you seemed to be.

You paused, lips pursing as you racked your brain for the right words. Everything, is what you truly wanted to say, but even then you wished that some things were different. You wished for Newt to be there with you all, and Chuck, and Winston. You had also often thought about Teresa and just how much she would have contributed to this new society. You really didn’t want everything to say the same, but some things were just simply perfect in your eyes.

“The tranquility.” You ended up with, squeezing Thomas’ forearm with your spare grasp, “The calm after the storm. Being able to take a deep breath because you know you aren’t always looking over your shoulder. Nights like this… so beautiful, merciful. Seeing our friends smile in what felt like forever. Us.” 

“Us?” He questioned, peering to you again before focusing on the upcoming silhouette of your hut. Thomas laughed lightly, “We aren’t changing, not anymore. I have you and I’m keeping you forever. No take-backs, sorry sweetheart.” 

A tender giggle echoed lightly in the air as it fell from your lips, prompting you to nestle even closer into Thomas’ side. He always made you feel protected, and you know from the bottom of your heart that he will also continue to until his dying breath.

You pressed your lips just under his ear, breath igniting his skin, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

It was a force that managed to shake the walls; such harshness in comparison to the soft velvety feeling of his lips sliding against yours. Thomas’ brows furrowed slightly after forcefully kicking the door to your hut closed behind him, but it was the sweetness of your amused laughter that drew him so effortlessly back to you.

“A little eager?” The warmth of your breath fanned over his still rosy cheeks, reminding Thomas that you were so close. You watched as his lashes fluttered against his cheekbones - delicate, yet sharp - framing the doe-like brown eyes that you’ve grown to love, and beyond, and it made the boy appear so incredibly pure. He was a snowflake shining against the sun, a flower’s petals fresh as they begin to bloom, the dancing flames of a picturesque fire that you were only just admiring him through. 

Thomas managed a smile through a breathless exhale, as if you were there taking his breath away with your bare hands, grabbing and keeping it as your own lifeline. He lent in, this time with closed eyes, the tip of his nose nudging against yours, and it was your turn to hitch at his whispered words, “You have no idea.” 

His hands were rough. Callouses adorned them from the past year or so, memories and scars that captured how he survived and that those hands were the reason you were safe. They often trembled when he slept due to the nightmares that haunted him - the monsters that made him bleed, and the people that he watched perish before his tear-glazed eyes. Those hands carried the lives of legions of people at one point, and sometimes Thomas thinks that they are under pressure to still do so. Those hands were strong and could hold so much from so many people.

Yet, as one grasped your hip and the other cupped your cheek, they had never felt more tender. Oh - and how you desired the benign fingertips to soothe over your skin and touch you in places that have gone undiscovered by most. And if Thomas wanted to tread in those uncharted waters, there was no way that you would decline, not when you dreamt of his touch for so long.

You breathed him in once more, intoxicated by the most mundane of scents that built up who this boy came to be. The smoke was strong as it continued to linger, but the salt water that had dried on his skin and the subtle waft of dirt from his earlier exploration this morning was a concoction that on the best of days, drove you crazy, but right now you wanted nothing but to bathe yourself in it. With a small swallow of the lump in your throat, fingers grasped at the unbuttoned opening of Thomas’ henley, and you pulled him even closer than before until chests were flush and hearts beat in thumping unison. 

His lips found yours again with ease, wrapping around your own and taking you as if he were a starved man. It drew a small moan to elicit from your throat and he knew that he would do anything to hear that sound again, over and over, a broken record that could both lull him to a lustful sleep and keep him awake at all hours with a curled fist and an overworked forearm. It wasn’t until his tongue slipped; dragging with deliciousness over your bottom lip, and taking refuge against your own as he licked so casually into your mouth. That’s the moment you blacked out and allowed your stance to lose all sense of muscle, becoming jelly-legged and at the mercy of Thomas’ arms wrapping further around your submissive frame.

Thomas slowly walked you both backward until your knees collided with the frame of your makeshift bed. You released a small gasp, enough to wake you from your short absence from reality, as the boy took it as his cue to lift you carefully until you were laying down against the thin sheet that you deemed as a blanket. This was the first time that he was ever situated above you - usually pulling you into his arms as you stood with friends, or tugging you down onto his lap so that he could cuddle against your back. Kisses would be shared, but they were never this hot, nor this needy, and Thomas’ breaths stopped momentarily as he took in how stupidly beautiful you looked underneath his heaving body. 

He wasn’t sure what changed between you both so quickly with this new angle, but he had a sudden overwhelming sensation to kiss you with every ounce of passion he could muster, and meld himself with you until a single unit was left in your wake. He was throbbing in his head at the salacious thoughts that drowned his mind with images of you in positions seemingly compromisable. Throbbing in his heart at how emotion could so easily play such an intense role in how he never wanted to be a part from you for as long as he lived. And throbbing a little lower at how it all seemed to come together as one want, an impulse, a craving for your touch and taste and sounds that could drive a man mad in the absolute best way possible. Thomas was already halfway there. 

You could feel it too in the way he was gazing over your frame - the heat that loved to submerged your body was now between your legs, and you had the itch to squirm from the slight discomfort it gave you. It was formidable once before, during a night where sleep was off the schedule, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how much you yearned for being between Thomas’ arms and held to his chest. The heat was like a heartbeat as it pulsated, and under the curtain of nightfall, you had eased the pain with your fingers and a hasty soothing rub. You remember seeing Thomas flash behind your fluttering eyelids before they settled closed, and it made you press harder, chasing after a feeling that was odd at first… but so quickly became pleasureful until you squealed his name and your chest sank from a high that pulled you up from your bed. It was euphoric, and you were quick to understand what some of the others meant when they talked about making themselves feel so good. All you wanted now was that feeling again, and Thomas to be the one to grant you such elation.

With vulnerable movements, you reached up to cup the boy’s cheek, your thumb dragging from his nose to the softened skin under his eye, teasing his lower lash line. You bit your lip at how stunning he truly was and how the subtleness of moonlight played shadows across his face. He nuzzled into your hold and placed a small kiss to the skin, the tip of his nose dragging with fragility over your palm until his lips pursed once more. You needed him closer until all you could feel was him, all you could taste and hear, too. You were aching to settle the feeling that had now reached your lower abdomen as it screamed to be soothed, to be taken care of. 

“Kiss me.” You slipped, a softened whisper that Thomas almost missed until you said it again, “Kiss me, Tommy. I need you.”

You didn’t know what the words truly entailed except for how right it felt to say them - Thomas, clearly on a wavelength that matched yours with perfection, as he dropped to your lips with a smile and groan that you happily swallowed whole. Arms and legs clung to him for dear life as he slotted between your thighs, lips smacking and tongues dragging and suddenly that alluring cool night air became thick and humid. He covered your frame and slowly sank his body weight onto yours - a puzzle piece that was cut perfectly for you, embedded so sublimely against your curves and dips. 

Hips clashed with harmonising force, a kind of friction that was heavily sought as it was chased. It drew a throaty groan to echo past Thomas’ lips, his brows furrowed as he tried to overcome the near pained feeling of pressure against his crotch as you absentmindedly pushed up against him. It was bittersweet torture - the kind where he knew how to relieve it, but was riddled with nervousness about sharing it with you. He sat a curled fist beside your head as his other held your hip, hoping that you wouldn’t notice how frisky your touch and taste were making the boy. Thomas was holding back every instinct to lose control over a sensation that had only ever met his right hand.

You were lost hopelessly in his lips. They held slight chappedness from the salty air, but an ever-forgiving softness that so easily held you captive and vulnerable. Whenever he kissed you, it was as if you were nothing but his - simply a figure that had fallen victim to his tender touch and enrapturing words, you wouldn’t dare move in case it burst the bubble that separated you from the outside world. It was simply an addiction and you craved it always, a constant need for Thomas, a constant need to share your love. 

Absentmindedly, your ankles pulled his lower back further into you, and it was the meeting of his hardness against your heated core that ripped a sudden moan from you both as synchronised calls filled the space of your hut. You clung even further to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck among the thin sheen of sweat. It was the type of stimulation that you needed again, or else you’d stop breathing. Tentatively, your hips rose again before you gently rubbed over the pulsating hardness through the thick denim of his jeans, and you swore that stars exploded behind your eyes as you whined against his neck.

Thomas breathed out heavily, his throat thick, “Shit - shit, that feels good.” 

You nodded weakly, desperation clawing at you as you pressed kisses down the column of his throat, remembering the patches of skin that made him shudder with fragility. Thomas was melting against your frame - a puddle of a boy between your limbs as he began to rock over you, slow drags until a comfortable pace was met and he could feel your fingers digging into his shoulder blades.

His senses were enamoured by you - completely and utterly taken, infatuated to no end. You were all that he could feel and it made the air thicker than he thought possible as he swallowed your panting breaths. The need came rather quickly as Thomas grasped at the back collar of his shirt, his ears perking at the small whine you let escape as he sat back on his knees to remove the obstructive piece of cotton. Your lips were still pursed and they chased him with weak effort from your sobered drunken haze, much to the boy’s admiring amusement.

With a chuckle, Thomas lent down to you, his lips ghosting over the rosy hue of your cheek before pressing gently against it. He allowed the tip of his nose to nuzzle against the soft skin before he spoke in a whispered tone, “Who’s the eager one now, hm?” A shudder travelled down your spine as warm breath danced below your ear; a sensation that was enough to rip another moan from your thumping chest, a sound so melodious that Thomas found it a hasty necessity to imprint it permanently in his mind. 

You replied breathlessly, “I can’t help that you’re hot, Tommy.” 

He gripped your waist after his fingers slid over the exposed skin from your hiked-up shirt with desperation to run his touch over every inch of your body. He didn’t want to push you to follow suit with the removal of your own shirt, but it didn’t stop the clench of his jaw and sudden strong grip as he held himself back from pursuing the hunger that was slowly developing within him.

You knew him, more than yourself, and how his demeanour would change, and how every emotion or action was a chapter in his book that you’ve read too many times to count. It promoted your hand to lift and squeeze at his bicep, Thomas’ eyes drifting to your widened gaze and the glint that sparkled among your coloured hues, “Take it off, it’s okay. I trust you.” 

He nodded, his chest fluttering at the faith you so easily had in him. You always did - have faith in Thomas - after all, he saved your life and in turn, you saved him by providing the limitless unconditional love that he deserved. His encouragement allowed you to find yourself after being lost within such a cruel world, and he never stopped believing in you. He never would. Thomas’ fingers flexed below your ribs, the toughed skin of his fingertips dragging with savour as he pushed your shirt further up your body. As it bunched under your chest, you managed to sit up slightly, quickly tugging the shirt until it let your skin breathe free, and it was tossed somewhere presently unknown across the room. The boy’s breath suddenly hitched as eyes raked shamelessly over your now vulnerable frame. His mouth felt dry, yet he was in complete awe. 

“You’ve seen me like this before.” You noted though the silence, your voice barely loud enough to break the intimate atmosphere. Your chest flushed slightly, only growing more vibrant as it reached your cheeks. You grew bashful under his doting stare, and he couldn’t help but bite his lip adoringly.

“Yeah, but…” Thomas thought back to the times where you all would swim at the beach, enough clothes to cover you, but to which still left little to the imagination. He shook his head once more, still in complete wonderment at you laying beneath him, “This is different. What I-I feel… it’s so much more than I can handle, you’re just so beautiful.” 

Your hand cupped his cheek and history repeated itself with such endearment; thumb rubbing under his eye to which he turned and kissed against your palm. It was quickly becoming your thing, your couple thing, something so small but so symbolic that ran the same path as screaming from the treetops that you’re in love. It was your silent communication of forever, and always, and until the end of our dying breaths to a world if there is one beyond ours. It was a promise and a reminder - that you both were there, and you weren’t ever going to leave. You were telling him through a simple touch of your hand that you were real, and his kiss was a reply of sincere gratitude.

Thomas lent down to peck the tip of your nose, smiling widely as your face scrunched with joy. His lips were quick to attach themselves to your neck next, wanting you to feel the ecstasy that you supplied him. They trailed with a wet path - his tongue darting out against pressure points and sucking at the spots that drew groans of satisfaction from you. Your head lulled back against his bed when teeth tickled your collarbone, and it didn’t take long for you to surrender yourself completely to him. Thomas’s tongue dragged heavily down your sternum before tracing along the cups that prevented you from bareness, eyes peering through thick lashes to silently ask for permission to go further. You couldn’t dare say no… not when every ounce of sunlight and warmth sang to you through such a simple look. 

You snuck a hand behind your back to unclasp the bra, suddenly releasing an unknown-held breath when the cool night air mixed with the heated moans that Thomas fanned against your chest. He swiftly reattached his lips as he relished in the new canvas for his kisses, his moistened trail continuing. You squeaked as he passed over your sensitive nipple, promoting your hand to grasp the back of his head and hold him closer to you. Thomas continued by sucking lightly before his tongue swirled in time with his hand squeezing your opposite side. He kneaded and squished the flesh tenderly, feeling his trousers tighten at the mewling sounds you made. 

He swapped sides and continued whatever sweet assault he could muster to prolong your symphony of sounds. It was building inside you - the desire for more. You felt like you were ignited, but wanting to be more than a spark… you needed to be an explosion, and you needed Thomas to be the one to set you off. You wiggled as you huffed out his name, your fingers fiddling with the button of your shorts when the boy pulled aware with a raised brow. 

“More… I need more. Please.” You begged, lifting your hips as Thomas helped pull the material away. He stood back by a step or two, whisky-glassed eyes absorbing your writhing body in nothing but a pair of cotton underwear and a wet patch that matched the erotic stain over his crotch. He was robotic as movements forced him to remove his own pants, the playing field even, and his cheeks redder than the Safe Haven’s sunset when you immediately ogled at the tent that was pitched under his boxer briefs.

This sort of intimacy was alike a perilous expedition - unsteady footing at first, unsure how to press forward, but leading to a bewitching and alluring adventure with such rapturous salaciousness. It continued when Thomas’ hands were placed on your thighs, rubbing cautiously against your skin before dipping in between your legs. Just knowing that he was so damn close made you whine under your breath, quiet, yet pitched enough to catch Thomas’ attention. 

Your fingers moved absentmindedly as they circled the moistened patch that you created, chest swelling with a held breath. You shuddered, trying to compose yourself, voice humming with please, “I-It feels good when you rub right there…”

“Is that what you do?” He questioned, eyes wide as he took in the information, and fingers dancing hesitantly close to your core. All you could do was nod and whine, hips squirming just from the thought of the pleasure that you’ve previously made yourself feel. It was an instant snap - the build of a rubber band being held back by Thomas’ fiery imprints, before the pressure was released, and the bounce back hit you hard when he pressed into the place that throbbed with wet need. 

Your body trembled with a softened sigh, the attention you were receiving easily turning your mind to mush, and he had barely dipped below the surface. Thomas’ eyes widened as his movements traced in the same tempo as his heavy breaths, chest thumping and skin igniting with warmth - he was in wonderment at the sounds that he drew from you, the squirming and the delicate fluttering of your lashes. It was a side of you that he was seeing for the first time, that anybody was seeing for the first time, and he felt so damn privileged.

The boy stopped quickly as you grasped at his wrist, big brown orbs looking to you in worry; but it quickly dissipated when he saw your loving ghost of a smile as it perked at your lips, and how you gently pushed him away to be able to remove the final piece of clothing that separated you from him. The cool breeze over your exposed slick provoked a shudder up your spine, a second one eliciting when you realised that Thomas’ flushed face was staring at your most private area.

He didn’t hesitate when his finger dragged back over you, collecting moisture that made your body tick when slathered across your sensitive nub. The pressure increased and you were sinking, melting, dissolving into the sheet beneath you. Your body was heavy, yet you felt weightless, allowing Thomas to take every ounce of control to drive you into ecstatic oblivion. His touch drew slightly down and circled the sensitive hole that was swimming in your pleasure, your breath hitching as his fingertip breached until his first knuckle. The boy’s hair was tugged with a needy grasp, the sheets below him shifting as they were too curled within your other hand. 

Thomas cursed under his breath as he rutted slowly against the side of the bed, his finger beginning to pump as he relished in how you squeezed him. He sighed loudly with a teeth-bitten bottom lip, “You like that?” It was rhetorical by what he saw before him, but he needed the affirmation, to know that you were going to unravel in bliss. And that he was why you were floating in a euphoric daze. You managed a whine in reply, head nodding as words were stuck among your hitching and heavy breaths. The tip of Thomas’ middle finger slightly curled as he shifted his position, and you released a sudden cry after he unknowingly rubbed against your spongey roof. He stopped immediately; scared that you were hurt, his chest tightening with worry until he noticed the cry settling into a moan, and your hips instinctively chased his touch for more attention. 

Thomas was known for being brave - diving in head first, running on pure instinct and spontaneity. He wasn’t one to back down, and now he knew what provoked those sweet wanton sounds of a symphony to escape you, he would do whatever possible to keep it going. He pumped his finger harder, his cock twitching against the bedsheet whenever you clenched around him, that one special spot being harassed over and over again until he swore you stopped breathing. His bravery shone when he inserted his pointer finger, his own throat now paying homage as it growled out a groan of desperation at how you both stretched and tightened. His mind travelled to thoughts of how you’d feel wrapped around his throbbing member, and if he didn’t get himself sorted soon, then he’d be leaving behind a spray of stickiness in his pants.

“T-Thomas…” You panted, hips rising and chest heaving as you felt fire bubble in your abdomen. Your voice cracked at the overwhelming sensation, “More… I need more…” 

He was careful to remove his fingers, but hasty when he rose up your body. Lips found yours instantly, as if by a magnetised force, two pairs that were destined to be slotted together with a taste that you could so easily get drunk off of. He licked between your lips until you granted him access to explore you properly, sliding with juxtaposed delicate hunger, and swallowing your breath and moans until they settled as his own. Thomas was slightly started as your nails dragged down his naked chest, goosebumps trailing in their wake before the elastic waist of his final piece of cotton was being attended to. The need was growing substantially as he pulled back - much to the disappointment of both himself and you, your lips pursed and eyes growing wide as you stared to him with such childlike doeness. 

It was becoming too real now as his hands began to shake, but any doubt was wiped clean when Thomas saw the adoring expression that flushed your face and prompted such a beautiful glint in your eye. You were his, and he was yours. That’s how it was and it’s how it would remain. Thomas was ready to give everything and more to you, as you were to him. Always.

The boy drew a deep breath before his boxers were dropped and he toed them to the side, his body bare in front of you. Thomas was pure - the epitome of a dream, a handsome man with arms that could protect you for the rest of your days. It wasn’t until you looked closer that you properly noticed the scars that showed his true story; both small and large imprints that represented sacrifice, and loss, and success. You lent forward with tentative movements until your fingers danced over the marks, and for a moment Thomas flinched, but easily settled as you traced each one with care. With pursed lips, you pressed against one near his navel; a recent wound that would forever remind you of his escape from death, where a bullet pierced his skin and left him unconscious for days. It was a time when you waited by his bedside without reposition, watching the steady rise of his chest as day turned to night, until he awoke in what would be your rightful Safe Haven.

The thought alone provoked wet tears to coat his lower stomach, and Thomas gently slid his hand into your hair as his thumb soothed you with consistent rubbing motions. Thomas was here with you, he was alive, he was real, he was safe and he was so utterly and completely loved.

It was as if he could read your mind as he cooed against the crown of your head, “I’m here, babygirl. I’m not going anywhere.” 

You showed your understanding with more kisses over more of his scars, until every one had been offered endearment. You sat up further on your knees until you could gaze into his caramel eyes and the shade of burnt honey was easily your favourite; they gleamed especially under the afternoon sun, mesmerising swirls that could drag you to the deepest of depths, and you’d let them. They showed kindness and amusement, but right now, they darkened within the thickness of the room and you could’ve sworn that if given the chance… he would eat you alive, right there and then. Oh, how you wish he would.

But this moment was tentative - shared among inexperience, but budding romance and the strongest desires to be held and cherished. You needed to be closer which is why you kissed Thomas slowly, your lashes brushing against his pink cheeks, and your hands tightly squeezing his shoulders as his hardened cock twitched over your stomach. Flames were still burning brightly in your core and they needed to explode before they could be pleasantly extinguished. 

Your mind was too hazy to recall how your hold shifted to arms sliding around his neck, pulling him further in until teeth clashed and silenced groans were exchanged, and Thomas took it in stride to poke his tongue at every crevice he could before sliding it deliciously over your own. He lowered you to the bed before placing himself between your thighs, your ankles returning behind his back, and two hearts reverberating with slight anxiety against the other’s chest. 

Thomas pulled back slightly as his nose nuzzled with yours, a deep breath taken, “We don’t have to do this, not if you’re not ready.” He offered quietly, trying to convince himself that his words were purely directed toward you. 

You smiled; the feeling of his wet and puffy lips brushing against your own as you did. You rubbed your nose back against his, “I’m ready if you’re ready… I love you, I’ll do anything for you, Tommy.” 

The boy chuckled in near disbelief. He knew a long time ago that he'd love you - that you’d take up every thought, every dream. That you’d so seamlessly enter into his life like the need for oxygen, and without you, he wouldn’t be able to breathe. You weren’t just needed or wanted, you were necessary to Thomas, and the love he had for you was unchallenged and indescribable. And now, it was also so incredibly mutual. Not that he had any doubts.

“I love you too, so much.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “So, so much.” 

Thomas’ hips rocked against yours and the desperation was building fast. He thrust once, twice, three times until he was coating himself in your wet slick and it pulled a guttural noise from his throat. There was a time when he felt embarrassed listening to how his friends would recount their sexual experiences, and what they did to their partners, and how good it really felt. Neither of you had gotten to that stage until now, but he was thankful that he listened otherwise he wouldn’t be able to truly experience you.

The boy’s large hands tugged at himself a few times to properly lather himself in your wetness and you couldn’t help but sneak a peek at the package he held, your bottom lip quickly being held captive. You exhaled deeply, eyes widening, voice softening, “A-are you sure that’s gonna fit?” 

He laughed, a sound so sweet, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we? But…it might hurt, okay?” He huffed into your ear, face buried in the crook of your neck as you pressed a trail of open-mouthed kisses to his flushed skin, “So you need to tell me when to stop if it gets too much.” You whined, nodding in acknowledgement as Thomas began to line himself up, the head of his sensitive girth meeting your lower lips. But he didn’t push further, taking another deep breath, “You need to say it, please, baby. I need to hear you say it.” 

Instinctively, you ground up against him and released a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the anticipation grew, “I will, I promise.”

He didn’t need much more convincing as Thomas pushed into you, so incredibly slowly as he savoured how tight you clung to him. Your warmth forced his eyes to roll back and knowing that he was stretching you brought on utter determination. His cock was burying deeper, and deeper, and even he was starting to question now whether he’d fit inside you. Thomas opened his eyes after realising that they were closed, not remembering when he squeezed them shut, and he looked over your scrunched face with a gentle coo. He lifted a hand to your face before his thumb was gentle in pushing out the wrinkle between your eyes, his touch dragging down the curve of your face to cup your cheek. He whispered to you - affirmations and encouragements, reminders of love and pride. 

The lack of reception was a worry that nearly made him stop until you covered his hand with your own, face tilting until you could kiss over Thomas’ palm. You huffed as you were being filled, swearing that you could feel him in your stomach, but the pain would surely dissipate. “I love you, I love you, I love you…” Your mantra repeated like a broken record, getting lost in the heavy panting of your breath, until your back suddenly arched and Thomas had reached the hilt. 

He was already spent as hands braced themselves beside your head, caging you in until all you could see was his kiss-swollen lips and lustful dark eyes checking you for any kind of discomfort. The pressure sucking him into you was a sensation that he could never grow tired of, yet he waited for your face to soften and for the curl of your lips before he was granted permission to finally move. 

It was harmonious when you both sang out in pleasure; the four walls of your hut hopefully thick enough to not draw in any unwanted attention, but at this stage, you could care less about anybody or anything outside of the bubble you and Thomas found yourselves within. His rocking turned to a fastened pace, driven by just how close you both already were to reaching your highs. Hips clashed and lustful sounds echoed as your arms curled under his own and grasped at his shoulders, pulling the boy closer until an inch couldn’t be spared between your sweat-sheened skin. Curses fell from your lips with ease and Thomas relished in the way that he was making you feel, your bodies moving as a single unit as you were pushed and pulled across the bed. 

He nosed your cheek before brushing his lips against yours - not quite a kiss, but a flash of want that was sure to leave behind a burn, and you hoped that the feeling would stay with you forever. He nuzzled into you as he moaned out, “I love you”, his words so sweet in contrast to the near-pornographic moan that followed when you clenched around his cock. It made you rut back against him and meeting his hips halfway was nearly your tipping point. You were chasing after the feeling of ecstasy as it continued to build and continued to run, your arm held out and it was within reaching distance. So close. So close.

You knew you had crossed the finish line when your vision turned to stars; a white light coinciding with delicate heat, your body trembling as you droned against Thomas. You were weightless again - floating in euphoria, your bones melting as you collapsed completely into Thomas and he made sure to hold you against his naked chest with a protective arm across your back. It was the first time you truly felt pleasure and it was perfect.

“You did so well…” Thomas cooed, trying to withstand his own release as he kissed over your temple, his fingers massaging into your spine when he felt a quiet sob escape you. His lips pressed once more, “Just so you know” He started again, his thrusts slowing before he went too far, “You look so beautiful right now.” 

“I’m crying.” You scoffed, eyes scrunching when you pulled back as his cock throbbed from inside you, dragging over the spongey spot that had the potential to drive you to insanity if probed enough. But the feeling was too strong and you were becoming too sensitive. 

Thomas noticed before he pulled out with haste, his tortured girth being fisted roughly within his hand. He took a deep breath, the urge to cum growing nearer as his head threw back and his eyes screwed shut. “You’re beautiful even when you cry.” It wasn’t until he looked at you, the feeling of soft skin cupping his cheeks and your lips slotting against his own, that Thomas finally let go. You swallowed his moans as the boy shook under your grasp; strings of white stick painting his fist and reaching your chest. 

He was the first to break away, the need for air nearly forgotten as he was getting lost in your touch and taste. Thomas’ forehead pressed to yours and his shoulders sagged in absolute content. Your relationship consummated on an entirely different level, and you both had never felt closer to one another. Thomas hummed, his heart rate slowly coming down, yet he couldn’t help but express excitement, “That, fuck… that was amazing. Absolutely amazing.” He grinned as you giggled under your breath, arms wrapping back around his neck, “And you, babygirl.. that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I survived a week in the Scorch.” 

He flinched slightly as you slapped at his shoulder, embarrassment flourishing and your face was hidden as it nuzzled against one of his pecs. The boy continued to rub your back through his tamed chuckles, admiring what he deemed as adorable behaviour, and you acknowledged him with a series of kisses over the damp skin of his chest and an amused tone, “You’re such a dork, Tommy.” 

“I’m your dork.” 

You murmured something incomprehensible against him, followed by a yawn and a satisfied smile. You were worn, in the best way possible, through a moment that would stay with you for as long as life allowed you to keep it. Thomas has saved you in more than one way - allowing you a new lease on life, full of different experiences and emotions, with a promise held in the cusps of forever love. It was a struggle to get to where you are now but you’re glad, no, you’re gratified that it eventually led you to a life with Thomas.

The boy pulled you back to his chest as he squeezed a final hug, his brows furrowing at the feeling of cooling slick between your bodies, a bittersweet end to where love was made, “First things first, I’m gonna have to clean us up.”

[ninibeingdelulu]

You're my home

synopsis-> Exhausted after a mission, high school!Geto find comfort in your arms.

The tranquil quiet of your dorm is disturbed by a sudden dull thud against wood - the unmistakable sound of the front door swinging inwards.

You glance up with a small smile curving your lips, already anticipating the heavy footfalls soon to follow.

Right on cue, Suguru's tall silhouette appears in the doorway moments later, shoulders slumped beneath visible fatigue from his latest mission.

You watch with a tender fondness blossoming in your chest as he forgoes even removing his dusty traveling cloak before making a beeline straight for the bed...and more importantly, you.

A breathless chuckle slips free at the unceremonious fashion in which your stoic lover simply collapses face-first across your lap in an uncharacteristic heap.

You card your fingers through his sweat-damp raven locks, gently working out the knots and tangles from an no-doubt arduous trek back home.

"….Hey, baby" you murmur with unabashed adoration coloring every syllable.

"Looks like the great Suguru Geto is dealing with a serious case of travel weariness today..."

Suguru simply groans in response, the sound muffled against the plush warmth of your thighs.

But there's no mistaking the way his entire frame steadily liquefies while surrendering fully to your tender ministrations.

With each rhythmic pass of your nimble digits working loose the tension knotting his scalp, a fresh wave of hard-earned tranquility visibly washes over Suguru’s striking features.

You make a considering hum low in your throat while raking your nails over his nape in slow, firm strokes - instantly pleased by the full-body shudder it elicits from your blissed-out partner.

"Hmm, that's what I suspected...just another day's work of you keeping our world safe, huh my handsome hero?"

One onyx eye cracks open a bare slit to pin you with that signature half-lidded glower positively dripping with dark bedroom promises despite his haggard state.

That look never fails to set your pulse racing no matter the scenario, a reminder of all the deliciously wicked ways Suguru can unravel you completely while using little more than a single darkly heated glance.

A rough, calloused palm finds purchase over your bare knee as he angles himself enough to nuzzle into your abdomen with an overplayed grunt of effort meant solely to tug an amused giggle from you.

There's that childishly roguish side reserved only for you that always manages sneaking out sooner or later.

You can't resist leaning down until your smile presses directly to the crown of his sweat-dampened hairline.

"A man of very few words today, I see..."

You tease while finally easing those questing fingers down over the bunched ropes of tension in his shoulders and back.

"How about we simply stay like this for a while longer, hon ? Allow me to give you a nice deep muscle massage to show how much I missed you while away keeping everyone safe all this time."

The responding groan that rumbles straight from his chest and outwards vibrates against your very core - a sound you know all too well as Suguru's unique language of sinful pleasure.

More words are unnecessary between the two of you in these stolen peaceful interludes.

As you continue kneading the residual stress from his battle-worn frame with devoted tenderness, Suguru nuzzles imperceptibly deeper into your welcoming space while draping one full leaden arm across your lap in a possessive half-embrace.

With not a single utterance required, his actions speak louder than any poetry regarding just how smitten your fierce protector remains with his sole source of softness and serenity no matter what storms batter against him daily.

And for those few blessed hours at least, you find the roles beautifully reversed as Suguru slips fully into repose - safe, shielded and completely at peace while ensconced within the comforting circle of your indomitable strength and nurturing embrace wrapping protectively around him like the sanctuary he'll always call home.

[fanaticsnail]

Flowers

Full-length fic because my roses are currently in bloom in my garden and I couldn't get the romance away from my head while crocheting.

Word Count: 3,587

Swordsman just needed something light and fluffy.

Masterlist Here, song vibe suggestion here.

Inhaling the sweet fragrances of botanicals, you reopened your eyes to gaze at the vast abundance of colours that lay before you. Hues of vibrant orange tulips, deep red roses and the softness of babies breath with sweet jasmine paling the arrangements within the harbour-side florist.

You tapped your chin and hummed thoughtfully as you continued to mull your decisions over in your mind. The whole reason you joined the Straw-Hat pirates was specifically to document rare and unusual species of flora, fauna and fruiting plants that remain undiscovered and undocumented. You worked hard with Sanji whilst out on the open sea, determining the edibility of certain plants or what properties they could possibly wield to benefit your crew.

“Can I help you with anything there, love?” a voice called from inside the florist shop. An elderly woman made her way over to you, a warm grin adorning her cheeks in welcome.

“I’m just browsing for now, thank you,” you smiled in return, turning your gaze immediately to seek out a small floral arrangement in the corner of the room.

Vibrant green-drooped flowers hung lowly; trumpeting out along their wide stem. Peppered throughout the arrangement were pastel purple orchids, small bundles of dark crimson and yellow roses and small bulbs of vibrant pink gumnuts. Although the arrangement was beautiful, the true star of the show were the larger stemmed clusters of the emerald flowers.

“Ah,” the shopkeeper sighed, “you’ve seen my gladioli. Aren’t they spectacular?”

You gasped in absolute delight, bringing yourself closer to the cluster of florals.

“The arrangement,” you began, turning back to the elderly woman, “it’s breathtaking.”

“It’s peaceful, romantic and-,” she cut herself off, a small gasp sucked through her hissed teeth before releasing her breath, “sorrowful. This day marks ten years since my husband departed from this life and awaits me in the next. These are what I created for him.”

“I may not have known him,” you said, walking over to the woman and bowing a nod of respect towards her, “but from the representation of the flowers: the roses for grief and devotion, the eternal love from the orchid, the playfulness in the gumnuts; he sounds spectacular.”

“Don’t forget the gladioli,” she smiled through her sorrow, “they were his favourite.”

“Gladioli for integrity, honesty, and,” you reached down and took her hands within your own, cradling them against you warmly, “strength in character. He sounds like an amazing man, and I am truly sorry for your loss.”

She smiled at you and nodded her head at your words, receiving comfort from the sympathetic utterances from a complete stranger. You tore your gaze back towards the vibrant emerald colour of the gladioli flowers, fixating on their beauty.

“This may sound a little harsh; but, may I buy them from you?” you asked her in a low tone, turning your face back towards her with a soft smile, “you’ve placed a quest onto my heart that I require to see meet fruition.”

She quirks her brows at you and looks back to her prized arrangement, looking longingly at them.

“I would only sell them for good reason, lass,” she nodded, pursing her lips, “what quest holds over you?”

You sighed and released her hands, rummaging into your bag in search of your berry.

“Under usual circumstances,” you began, furrowing your brows as you continued your rummage, “men only receive flowers once in their lifetimes.”

“Oh,” she gasped lowly to you, nodding her head sorrowfully in acknowledgement, “how long has he been departed?”

“He’s not dead,” you smiled and shook your head, “although try as he might, he’s still with us.”

She furrowed her brows, tilting her head to the side and immediately smiled at your words, “these are for your fella then?”

“He’s not exactly my ‘fella’,” you nodded with a light laugh at her words, “but for a friend, yes.”

A small twinkle formed within her eye as she brought herself closer towards you and whispered; “and for how long have you been in love with him?”

You stiffened at her words, halting in place in shock. You had never thought about how you felt about Zoro aboard the Going Merry. Not when he would bring you a fresh cup of coffee and sit with you in the early mornings, silently watching the rising sun bring warmth over the ocean in solitude. Not even when he would instinctively hold out his left arm to shield your body from harms way once conflict arose with formidable foes. Even still, not a single thought regarding him absent-mindedly seeking you out for your opinions on shrubbery and moss he’d located and presented towards you; sitting adjacent to you and cocking his head to the side as he actively listened to everything you said about botany.

She hummed in delight and made her way over towards her arrangement and began to collect the stems from within their display, flourishing it with a brown hessian sash and tanned parchment paper.

“35,000 berry and they’re all yours, sweety,” she cooed at you, scrunching her nose up at you.

“That’s awfully low, Ma’am,” you frowned at her, locating a more appropriate amount of berry, “you’ll take 352,000, and I’ll also leave you with my name for future business arrangements.”

She halted her movements, looking down at the arrangement in her hands one more time before nodding to you and taking your berry from your outstretched hand.

“Thank you for parting with these,” you upturned your eyebrows in empathy, placing your hand on her shoulder and giving it a light squeeze in comfort, “they are beautiful and represent everything I want to now say.”

“I’m glad to be of assistance,” she hummed, tilting her head into your embrace. You held onto her for a moment longer before bidding her farewell with your departure.

It took a while for the remainder of the crew to return to the ship, you sat and documented within your botany journal a diagram of the flowers you purchased; shading various petals and leaves to depict the beauty of the arrangement.

As you had a small amount of time to yourself, you began to actively think on why exactly you immediately thought of your crewman as soon as you saw the flower shop. You never usually purchase flowers, especially since you would always find them on your adventures and set up arrangements to decorate the kitchen and your crew-quarters. You had never once thought to decorate a fellow Straw-Hat’s crew quarters, nor gift an arrangement prior.

What changed? Did you have budding romantic feelings developing for the loyal knight and protector of the Straw-Hat crew? You gulped the dry pit forming in your throat, a giddy feeling arising within your chest. Your fingers began to tremble and your heartbeat thumped with a drum-like rapidity.

You shook your head to rid them of the thoughts, your hands remaining the only thing strained and trembling under the implications of a small budding infatuation. Rolling your shoulders back and closing your eyes, you began to shake the feeling away before the crew began to rejoin you aboard your ship.

“There you are,” you heard a voice behind you. You upturned your head, seeking out the source of the voice.

Zoro’s vibrant green hair was the first thing you drew your attention to. The gladioli were the exact vibrant hue of his short locks; the entire reason you first intended on purchasing the arrangement.

“Here I am,” you replied with a cock of your head and a wide smile. His expression was airy, yet unreadable. He had his left wrist hanging on the hilt of his white blade attached to his hip, raking his eyes over your seated position at the polished wooden deck table. He quirked his head once his eyes met with the flowers in front of you.

“You got flowers?” he asked, his brows furrowing together in the middle before asking you again, “someone give them you?”

You laughed a small melodical chuckle before rising to your feet and clutching the wrapped flowers within your hands. You walked over to his place above deck and grinned at him.

“Actually, Zoro,” you began to anxiously giggle, your eyes widened in shock at your next words, “I bought them specifically for you.”

The furrow in his brows rose as he began searching between your two irises for hidden intentions, silently questioning your actions as you held out your hands with the arrangement. He hesitantly reached for them, looking down at the mixture of greens, reds, yellows and soft muted pastels and hesitated.

“Why?” he asked in a low rumbly whisper, halting his fingertips a hairline away from receiving your gift.

“Because I wanted you to see them,” you whispered in return, searching his face for reason for his apprehension at receiving his gift.

His fingertips brushed yours as he took the parchment wrapped florals into his grasp; the waft of whimsical beauty falling in waves over his senses.

“Why do you want me to see them?” he asked you, continuing to hold your hands within his as they clasped around the flowers. Both of your eyes held firm to the complimentary florae, focussing on anything other than fixating on each other’s eyes, ignoring the tension arising between you as you relished in his extended touch.

You sighed low and sorrowful, retracting your hands from the stems as you secured them within Zoro’s grasp.

“Men only receive flowers only once in their lifetimes, and they never even get to see them,” you sighed, taking your lower lip between your teeth to halt your nerves. A small rumbly growl of confusion began to rise in Zoro’s chest, questioning you on your thoughts.

“I wanted you to see them,” you reiterated, “you are so strong, Zoro,” you reached your hand up and hesitantly pressed your palm against his cheek, “you fight valiantly and with honour and integrity.”

You began to retract your hand, Zoro chasing your palm with his cheek as he clutched the flowers within his hands. You giggled at him, reluctantly placing your hand back to his cheek.

“And what is the one occasion men get flowers?” Zoro cluelessly asked you, prompting all playfulness to flee from your face. You didn’t think you had to actively inform him on the subject. Your brows rose upwards in sorrow as you searched around his cheeks, chin, nose, forehead and temple before settling once again on his eyes.

“Their funerals, Zoro,” you whispered, completely retracting your hand from his face, “this is a mourning arrangement for the honourable departed.”

Your eyes fled from his face and again made contact with the arrangement he held within his grasp.

Pursing your lips, you hardened your resolve and began to walk him through the several pieces clutched in his expert grasp.

“The yellow rose is for strong ties, as I am bound to you as your crewman,” you uttered in a low tone before adding, “the dark red is for grief and sorrow.”

You stood taller on the tips of your toes as you stooped with your index finger extended towards the various florals; “the gladioli, that’s the green one, is for a strong character. You’re so strong, Zoro,” you snuck a glance upwards to see Zoro’s eyes darkened and his teeth held tightly shut in a vice-like grip. You hesitated before continuing, “the gumnuts are for your humour.”

A small rumble began to form from his chest in disapproval at your comment, prompting a small giggle to escape from your lips as a natural and organic response.

“And the big purple ones?” he asked, his brows creasing and lip upturning in thought, “what are they for? I don’t speak flower.”

A wide grin appeared once again to your cheeks as his smirk playfully returned to his.

“Those are orchids,” you whispered, your eyes and smile softening as you stepped closer to him. You felt your pulse drumming painfully harshly within your ears as you sucked in a trembled and shaken breath, nodding to yourself before declaring; “those are because-,” you hesitated once more before flittering your eyes down to the flowers before looking up at him through your eyelashes, “well, they’re because I love you, Zoro.”

Disbelief. Complete and utter disbelief came over Zoro as he heard those words depart from your lips. He never thought his feelings towards you would ever be returned, holding fast within his resolve for his broody pining to forever remain painfully unrequited.

He had hoped, sure. He had longed, absolutely. He had dreamed that you would lean yourself against him in the early rise of the sun’s rays as you sat together. He had imagined having your lips meet for the first time as he loyally protected you from harms way on the battlefield. The way you spoke so passionately about honing in on your craft as botany and plant specialist bewitched him every time you opened your lips to depart knowledge onto him. His thoughts were only of training to finally match the league of Dracule Mihawk, and of how desperately and deeply he cared for you.

“I’m sorry,” you added, retreating from your proximity of him, “I shouldn’t have said anything. Please-,” you held your right hand up defensively in front of yourself and began to back away in retreat, “-please don’t treat me any differently. Enjoy the flowers,” you added with a small, soft smile, “they’re yours to do with what you will.”

Zoro now found himself in a bewilderment. He was perplexed that you relayed your emotions and intentions in such an unbridled manner, so boldly presenting him with your gift. He was sure you had even surprised yourself, not intending on relaying a romantic declaration on a meagre Tuesday afternoon in the middle of a random layover.

“Hey,” Zoro called over to you, a small harsh growl erupting from his tone; halting your step in your retreat, “get back here.”

Your body ceased up at his command, every fibre of self-preservation in your body refusing to turn to face him again. A warm blush had reddened against your features, hues over your nose, cheeks and tips of your ears heating your face to an uncomfortable temperature.

“Now,” Zoro again ordered you. Your body responded immediately, turning back to face him with your head holding firm in its bow to the floor; your eyes fixating on the wooden crevasses of the ship’s deck. Once close enough in bodily proximity to the swordsman, you heard his footsteps approach your body and almost stand flush against you.

The scent of the flowers hung within the air as he brought his left hand, which cradled the bunch, against your right shoulder. His right hand hooked his index finger under your chin as he raised it upwards. Your eyes first met with the broad scar across his chest, inflicted by the great warlord of the sea as he granted to spare his life under the great duel.

He continued to rise your chin, your gaze meeting with his lips; focussing on the small flicker of his tongue which darted out and retreated back within his mouth.

“Look at me,” he uttered with an air of confidence, prompting you to hesitantly meet his gaze with a small rose-tinge lingering still atop your cheeks.

His eyes held a foreign softness within them, his aura still commanding and noble as he held you tenderly within his fingertips. He smiled, wrapping his left arm around your shoulders and hooked you into his torso; the floral bunch resting behind your back within his clutches. Your breath hitched within your throat as your eyes widened in shock at his closeness.

“You buy me flowers for my funeral,” he uttered into you, the whisper of his breath against your lips force your eyes half-lidded in desire and anticipation, “and you don’t even stay for the procession?”

A small whimper fled from your lips at his attention, a tingle shooting up your spine and igniting the follicles on the surface of your neck and forearms. He released his hold on your chin as he fled his hand down to grasp at your hip, pulling you flush against himself as he brought his lips down to mould themselves atop your own.

You stood in shock, your eyes looking at his face in awe at his kiss. You snaked your arms around his shoulders to rest at the nape of his neck; fingertips brushing against the tri-pierced left earlobe as you raked your right hand over his muscles. You flittered your eyes shut and smiled against his lips in glee, standing atop the tips of your toes once more to reach more of his towering body.

He immediately dragged his left arm over your shoulders to draw it down to your hips, immediately hoisting you upwards into the air. You shrieked in surprise, feeling his lips grin against you as he picked you up below your thighs. You hooked your ankles behind his back, thighs resting atop his hips as he arched his face upwards to meet against your lips; arching his jaw and chin to deepen the connection shared between you. You felt his blades begin to awkwardly dig their hilt against your flesh, but paid them no mind as you were now held securely within the strong arms of the valiant knight and loyal protector of the Straw-Hat pirates.

You drew your right hand up to rake your fingertips against Zoro’s hair, gently caressing his follicles with your fingertips. He groaned against your lips, furrowing his brows and leant appreciatively against your touch. While continuing to clutch the flowers within his left hand, he smoothed his right hand to rake its hold against your thigh, reaching around the flesh to grasp the muscles of your ass and support your body further against himself.

You were so enraptured by each other’s touch, the feel of your bodies moulding so intimately together; you felt as if you were the only two people existing on this side of the world. Zoro walked your body over to the table and placed you down to rest atop it, his swords again bumping against your body awkwardly; prompting a small giggle to flee from your lips and onto his at the collision.

Zoro tentatively placed the bouquet gently beside you as he stood himself between your parted legs, hooking his hands below your knees to bring your body as close as he could possibly feel you while clothed. You moaned into his mouth as you brushed your hand over his hair and onto his cheek; feeling the cool metal from his piercings once again below your palm.

All of your senses were completely overwhelmed by your swordsman; the way his body felt flush against your own, the waves of desire you could tangibly feel radiating from him for every hungry kiss placed against your lips. He trailed his lips against the corner of your mouth, brushing and grazing your skin below his tongue and teeth as they raked their way down your neck. A small whimper escaped your lips as he located your pulse, swirling his tongue against it with a rough groan falling from behind his own lips.

The smell of the bouquet beside you was as sweet as the sounds you were pouring from your lips and into the awaiting audience of Zoro’s ears; a private performance meant only for him and him alone. The ocean breeze wafting over your senses as the wind picked up, a small inkling of something not entirely unfamiliar to you; but unwelcome never the less.

Tobacco.

A rough cough interrupted Zoro’s action of pulling the neckline of your shirt down to reveal your clavicle for his next assault with his mouth. You both snapped your eyes over to the sound, noticing the blonde chef ignite the end of a new cigarette with the filter end drawn between his lips, a small litter of depleted butts pooling at his feet.

“H-how long have-,” you began to stutter out, eyes wide and in shock at the knowledge you were in the presence of an audience.

“-Long enough to not miss the procession,” the chef chuckled at you both, inhaling the cigarette before releasing the nicotine riddled smoke in a long exhale, “came to let you know lunch is ready.���

“And you didn’t say a word?” Zoro growled through gritted teeth at the chef, prompting another laugh to flee from Sanji’s lips.

“Hey,” Sanji began, holding his hands up defensively, “we placed a wager on it, I didn’t want to sway the odds.”

Zoro growled, reluctantly releasing you from his grasp and shielding your dishevelled body from view of the blonde chef.

“Are you okay?” Zoro asked you quietly as you collected yourself. You sighed with a light smile coming to your face.

“I am, Zoro,” you replied, “better than ever.”

He smiled down at you, fixing the scabbards of his swords on the hilt to his side with a large, wolfy but bashful grin. As you both collected yourselves, you hopped down from your place atop the table and turned to walk towards Sanji, vocal reprimands fleeing from your lips as you did so.

Zoro chuckled under his breath, turning back around to collect his flowers. He stared at the bouquet, examining it. They were beautiful, a perfect reminder of his mortality. He vowed to return the favour at the next port, wooing you with a reminder of your own fleeting moments together in this life.

[angronsjewelbeetle]

Fuck it I'm tired I'm half delusional and I can regret it in the morning. Oh well.

Primarchs and their favourite places to kiss ~♡

This may (is likely to) be out of character, many apologies.

Lion: Back of your hand. It's a classic, it's sweet, and he's not all that much of a physically affectionate bloke at the start.

Fulgrim: Tip of your nose and then rests his forehead against yours. He says it's "so you can gaze into his beautiful eyes and admire them", but it's actually because his eyes are windows to his thoughts and having you see his love for you is far easier than saying it out loud.

Perturabo: Your temple. He can still focus on his work while you demand affection from him (you're not demanding, he kissed you totally unprompted as you were walking past. He's just a bitch about it)

Khan: Your jawline. He kisses all over it and then may bite your ear to tease you. Not always, because he does treasure genuine affection, but when he's in a mischievous mood...well, >:)

Russ: Your neck. Specifically your nape and pulse point, he kisses your nape as an everyday sort of thing, almost even a greeting, while your pulse point is a little more...personal. Most go for the neck when they aim to kill something, after all, and he just wants you to know that he's protecting you, rather than a threat.

Dorn: Your cheek. It's soft, it's meaningful and it's as close to your lips as he can get without actually kissing you on them. He's a bit self-concious of the fact that his mouth is like three times the size of yours and he doesn't particularly like sloppy kisses unless yknow. He's.. distracted 😏.

Konrad: Your jugular. He's pressing his teeth to it more than his lips - it's not necessarily a threat, he's just not a very good kisser. But sometimes it's soft, softer than the down from Sanguinius's wings, on a rare day where he remembers that he CAN be gentle.

Sanguinius: Your inner left wrist. Another pulse point kisser but like...extra romantic. He likes to feel your heartbeat against his face to truly remind him that you are here with him. It keeps him in the moment rather than his mind spiralling into the future.

Ferrus: Your hands. He kisses each of your knuckles and then the back of your hand. If you catch him on a very rare day, he'll pepper his kisses all the way up to your shoulder and then your cheek, Gomez Addams style.

Angron: Your shoulders. Specifically the backs of them, he feels the need to be as far from your face when he kisses you because he doesn't trust himself not to rip your face off with his teeth. If you want him to kiss your face, you'll have to initiate it.

Guilliman: Your forehead/hair. He likes to kiss here because it means you can sit on his lap while he works and he can give you affection while doing it. Multitasking 👍. Every time he leans down to check one of his documents, he kisses you.

Mortarion: Your eyelids. He kisses both of them and then your forehead. He doesn't really like physical contact and isn't used to it, and it's sort of like he's appreciating that you see him, you're aware of what he looks like and that you still manage to show him affection.

Magnus: Your forehead. Smack dab in the middle of it, near the crown of your hair. When he kisses it, it sort of feels like he's kissing something inside of you. HE IS. He's kissing your third eye. The sneaky psychic bitch is kissing your third eye.

Horus: Your lips. He's a good kisser and it's easy to wipe your mind of your worries when he's distracted you.

Lorgar: Your hands. He gives the most devoted kisses to your hands it almost makes your lips jealous. The complete and utter reverence he holds for you is obvious with the way he drops to his knees to press a featherlight kiss to your fingertips and then the palm of your hand.

Vulkan: Your palms. He likes to kiss your palms, specifically your Heart Line (palm reader vulkan anyone??) on your left hand, and sometimes he'll tell you something silly and sweet like "mm, says here you'll have three kids and a mansion on the beach" while tracing your Life Line with his pinkie with the biggest grin on his face.

Corvus: On your cheek directly under your eyes. Yes, his nose does poke you in the eye sometimes but you'll have to deal because Corvus Corax Nuzzles Your Cheek Before He Kisses It. Corvus noses at your cheeks like a bird preening and then kisses you.

Alpharius: Everywhere. It depends on the day, really, sometimes it's your cheek, other times your ear, and occasionally your lips. It's a sweet surprise every time!

[goodomensafterdark]

Feature Fic Fursday

FFF - Feature Fic Fursday!

This is a special day of the week: fic recs Thursday (pronounced à la Française)!

Each week, we will browse the Good Omens After Dark official AO3 collection, choose a tag and promote the fics that are featured in it!

Have a tag idea for the next week? Comment it!

Have other fic recs, or your own fic would qualify for the tag? Reblog and throw in the link!

Tag of the week: Clothed Sex

Lavender Isn’t Scary by redheadedjapanese

Rating: Explicit

Genres: Smut

Word count: 5,780 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: In 1953, freshly reunited after their 1941 adventure, Aziraphale and Crowley have returned to their Arrangement of flipping a coin to handle combined blessings and temptations. Aziraphale is a bit rusty with the latter, especially with matters of lust, and one such assignment has arisen with an American target - at the height of the U.S. moral panic known as the Lavender Scare. Clearly, his work is cut out for him, but Crowley is here to assist because that’s what…friends are for.

Surviving Strawberries by DoonaRose

Rating: Explicit

Genres: Smut

Word count: 1,933 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: It’s bad enough that Aziraphale has dragged Crowley out in public to ‘Do something’ on Halloween – Crowley would have been much happier staying in the bookshop. What’s worse is that Aziraphale has chosen tonight to ‘Explore some new activities’, which meant visiting a drag club and forcing Crowley into a ridiculous pair of plastic red horns, and a long red devil’s tail looped into his belt, trailing behind him for all to see. Then Aziraphale orders strawberries and rather deliberately continues to torture Crowley - in public!

Pine and Surfeit by CelestialThighMuffs (FlyingBi)

Rating: Explicit

Genres: Smut

Word count: 2,423 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: “My mouth?” Crowley hissed, flipping them over so he could lean down and nibble on his ear. “Oh angel, that was only the appetiser. Wait until you see what the main course is.” He slithered his tongue over Aziraphale’s neck, independently wiggling the forked tips as they dragged over stubbled skin. Crowley mixes up his days and he's late for dinner. He's in the middle of pampering himself when Aziraphale shows up at the flat to check on him and insists on helping...until they can't help themselves. Loosely inspired by this scene between Bond and Moneypenny in Skyfall.

Indulgences of the Flesh by Pixiefairy15

Gift for RoyalBlep

Rating: Explicit

Genres: Smut

Word count: 3,725 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: Aziraphale’s specialty was indulgence; if you looked in the Encyclopædia Britannica, you might as well see a little picture of the angel, pink cheeked and well-stuffed. Complete and utter indulgence was what Crowley had been aiming to elicit in his angel when he made the decision that this year, they would be celebrating Valentine’s Day. Crowley gifts Aziraphale with roses and chocolates, and receives a proper reward for his devotion.

Conflict Resolution by ElysiumLeo (The_Nerd_Alert)

Gift for WingsofOpal

Rating: Explicit

Genres: Smut

Word count: 5,767 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: After a seemingly senseless argument, Crowley has stormed out of the bookshop to go cool off. Aziraphale should be irritated with him; he didn't even know what the argument was about! But knowing his darling, Aziraphale simply decides to wait until his demon is ready to return, knowing that when he does, they will have the chance to make amends with each other, like they always do. He just didn't anticipate that their latest attempt at an apology would be so... intimate.

(or, The one where the Ineffables discover they have a SERIOUS cockwarming kink, and have a great time experimenting with it.)

Dough by CemeteryAngel725

Gift for Lullanda

Rating: Explicit

Genres: Smut

Word count: 673 words

Chapter count: one-shot

Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale argue about how to knead pizza dough. Aziraphale shows Crowley how to do it properly.

That’s all, folks!!

[gussypatatasfritas]

"Do you think you'll kill for me one day?"

English is not my native language, so apologies for any mistakes, it's my first post!!

MINORS DO NO INTERACT

HAZBIN HOTEL CHARACTERS

Alastor

Alastor has absolute devotion to you; you are the only person he has desired sexually and romantically in his entire existence. Would he kill for you? Of course, there's no doubt, he would rip off a limb just to give it to you. Don't get me wrong, he adores and loves you, but he tries not to show too much vulnerability to you, though from time to time he adores showing you just how much he loves you.

-Yes, of course I will, my darling.

His beautiful voice utters those words in your ear seconds after your question.

A shiver runs down your spine as he passes his crimson claws over your arms before embracing you around the waist.

He rests his chin on your shoulder; you can feel his chest against your back. You close your eyes and sigh with a smile, your heart filled with complete love and devotion that you know is reciprocated by him.

Alastor is a sinner, a demon, a monster, lethal. His mission is to take over Hell and rule it, but if after achieving it you asked for Hell as a gift, he would give it to you. OF COURSE HE WOULD KILL FOR YOU.

Vox

Vox has a mix of love, possession, and desire for you. He wants to protect you from the bastards who might try to corrupt you, such as Valentino, but at the same time, he corrupts you, dismantles and reassembles you at his whim. He loves seeing you at your deepest to then save you, even though it was he who put you there.

-Yes, of course I will, my darling. —he says with a smile before shooting a stranger standing right next to him with a gun.

He is sitting in a red leather armchair, and you are kneeling right next to his legs, with your head resting on his thighs. He strokes your head just after murdering that stranger.

Although he can kill for you, deep down you know that when you bore him, you'll be the one lying on the floor with blood spilled.

Valentino

-No, bitch. -he laughs out loud after saying it.

He takes your face between his fingers and blows the disgusting smoke in your face, making you cough.

"You're just a pet, learn your place," he continues.

His laughter echoes throughout the room, seeking to maximize his own enjoyment as well as your pain. He throws you to the ground, knowing perfectly well that you're so attached to him that you'll end up forgiving him for everything.

And he's right.

Lucifer

What if he would kill for you? Friend, he would kill God for you, he would renounce Heaven again for you, you are his religion, he lives to make you happy and knows very well how to do it.

-Yes, of course I will, my darling.

He says haltingly between your legs, you can only see his precious and shining eyes looking at you, while his tongue sinks between your walls, he keeps your hips still with his hands to prevent spasms from making you move involuntarily.

You moan in response, arching your back ready to receive everything he wants to give you, your husband is a great partner in bed, his glow is so great, he's simply a precious fallen angel and he wants to make you feel good as much as he can.

Obviously, he would kill for you.

[muddyorbsblr]

let me hear you part 1: acting like a stranger

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: Your world comes crashing down when you finally start feeling the full weight of the 'name curse' that was placed on a world a few years ago.

Pairing: Loki x Reader (eventually); Steve Rogers x Reader (briefly)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: cheating (not Loki he would never); language; angst

Things to be aware of: pining…yearning…

The whole world considered it a bane, a devastation even, when a few years ago a sorceress from another realm walked through a portal and into your world and placed a curse upon everyone who inhabited it. No matter if they were human or otherwise, it touched everyone.

The curse? Only the people that irrevocably love you can say your name. People who have proven themselves deserving of your trust, regardless of your reciprocation. And once that trust was broken, your name would be erased from their mind completely.

They would know who you are and what you meant to them, but the blatant proof of their betrayal would be on display for the world, and yourself, to hear. Or in this case not hear. They would have no other name to call you by, and you would not be able to utter their name in turn. The curse would act as if it held your tongue captive if you attempted to do so.

Studios fell quiet. Chanted names in stadiums became player numbers and monikers. Offices became buzzing cubicles of people calling each other by their employee numbers.

Relationships were shattered.

But the way you saw it, it was a blessing. Because in its wake, a culture of unmitigated honesty was established. You watched how couples proudly said each other's names as a way to show the world, and to one another, that their devotion knew no bounds. They stayed loyal and true to one another and much as others would look upon them with a bitterness in their eyes for they no longer heard their names, seeing such couples brought a smile to your face.

Because you still constantly heard your name every day in the Avengers Compound from the lips of your boyfriend, the team's fearless leader, Steve Rogers. You two did away with your casual friendly nicknames for each other the day he walked into the kitchen one day and said "Good morning, Y/N." And you'd been inseparable since.

You were in such a blissful state that it seemed as if nothing could bring you down, and nothing outside your rose-tinted bubble could even barely register to you. Such as a briefly wandering eye whenever one of the new recruits walked by, the lingering touches, the excessive praise. You had no reason to doubt him, after all. He hadn't broken your trust. You would know if he had. Everyone would know if he had.

There was another that noticed it, however. Perhaps it was simply his keen observational skills and his predilection for gathering and storing away potentially scandalous intel for a rainy day. Or perhaps it was that he'd consistently butted heads with the Captain due to their clashing personalities and beliefs. Or perhaps it was that he so deeply coveted something that Rogers had.

Perhaps it was that Loki had fallen so irretrievably in love with you that he'd shocked even himself a few weeks after you'd begun your relationship with the ridiculously star-spangled spandex clad soldier, and he found himself needing to hold his tongue from uttering your name when he was simply bidding you goodbye after a successful mission in Beirut. He could feel every ounce of blood in him turn to ice as he waited for you to start making your way to Rogers' apartment before he attempted to whisper your name into the dark.

Since that night five months ago, he'd given into the fantasy that every time he called you 'little mortal' or 'darling' that he was truly calling you by your name. And that perhaps if you listened closely enough, beyond the words he uttered, you could hear his heart calling out to you.

Much like it was doing now as the god walked into the kitchen area of the compound and found you on your lonesome, nursing a cup of coffee. "Good morning, little mortal."

You looked up from your handheld library, giving him a smile made even more brilliant with the way the rays of morning sunlight struck you at just the right angle. It had his mind racing down a dangerous path. One where he imagined how you would look illuminated by the sun in the halls of Asgard, dressed in robes set in his colors as you walked hand in hand so that he may introduce you to his mother.

"Good morning, Mischief." You raised your cup in his direction. "There's about half a pot left. Better hurry before your brother gets a whiff of it."

"No Captain today?" he queried as he poured out his own cup before occupying the seat next to yours, fighting against the urge to lean in closer to you.

"Nah, he's out on a solo recon mission Downtown. Pulled an all-nighter. Should be back soon."

The cheery tone in your answer and the information you imparted simultaneously had chills running through his body and made his ache to hold you that much worse. You deserved to have someone comfort you through what was coming.

"Darling…there was no reconnaissance mission last night," he told you slowly, trying to keep his tone even despite the rage that was steadily building in him. How could Rogers have done this to you? You, that greeted him with the brightest smile of all ready with an embrace and a kiss whenever he'd return from legitimate missions.

That sat dutifully by his side in the medical wing whenever he'd return with injuries that couldn't be slept off so easily despite his enhanced physique. Even if you had to sleep in uncomfortable positions that had you wincing the next morning from the aches throughout your body, you took it all without complaint.

Dread had settled into the pit of Loki's stomach as the smile dropped from your face, the seeds of doubt beginning to creep in to your features. Doubt that he surmised was pointed both at Rogers as you questioned the validity of this 'mission', and at himself for even planting the idea in your head.

"Mischief, what are you implying?" You'd placed your device face down on the counter, lacing your fingers together in a tight grip as if you were trying to hold yourself back from saying or doing anything too rash.

"I'm simply saying that as of last night, there were no missions on our side of the board. At least any reconnaissance missions that only needed an Avenger."

"That's impossible," you breathed out, the smile on your face looking more forced than when he first saw you just moments ago. The sight of the evident strain in your eyes filled him with the bitter taste of guilt. "Maybe you just didn't see it."

"Are you insinuating I've made an error?" he prodded you in a jesting tone, attempting to alleviate even a fraction of the tension that he'd started to see creeping into your system.

You shrugged at him, the smile warring with a grimace and contorting your features in a way that physically pained him to see. "I'm just saying maybe there's a first time for everything, I don't know…" The clear uncertainty in your tone had Loki physically aching to hold you. To assure you that no matter what happened, you would not have to face your impending heartbreak alone. That you had him.

He was seconds away from reaching for your hand when the near soundless footsteps of the Widow walking toward you gave you something else to focus on. "Morning, babes." She walked over and pulled you in for a quick embrace and pecked a kiss to your cheek. "What's with the gloom and doom? America's Ass fall asleep on you too quick? You frustrated? I know a guy that can get you some toys to help--"

"No no, babes. Nothing like that," you answered with a bit too much snap in your tone and the way that you shook your head. As if you were trying to physically shake the denial off of you. "Just a solo recon mission Downtown. I miss him is all."

"What recon mission?"

He heard your pulse quicken, the fragile skin of your neck moving frantically with the beat of your heart. "The…the one that came up last night. Downtown. The solo mission," you repeated. Your voice had become smaller, your doubt and lack of confidence seeping in to every syllable you uttered and worsening the ache in the god's heart, every nerve in his body screaming to wrap you in his arms to keep you from falling apart.

The Widow's expression began to mirror the rage he was fighting to keep at bay, the corner of her jaw twitching as if she was holding back from hunting down the traitorous Rogers. "I didn't see any recon missions on our board last night, babes. On any board, actually." The sound of the doors to the common area bursting open called everyone's attention, the sounds of Rogers' motorbike engine powering down making you sit up straighter, as if you were on guard.

"Listen I'm sure this'll all be cleared up when he gets here," you stated with an evidently plastered on confidence, back straight and ready to greet the soldier as he walked into the common area with an obvious unease about him as well. Eyes scanning the room frantically until he met yours. "How was the mission?"

"Same old same old. Just another Tuesday," the blond exhaled, relief seeming to take over his features as he made his way to you and proceeded to pull you towards him for a kiss that looked to be more possessive and harsh than perhaps even he intended. It made the god that still sat mere feet away from you begin to taste bile in the back of his throat from just witnessing it, and made his ears twitch at the sound of your wincing from the force of the impact. "I'm just happy to be back home and see you again, angel face."

Whatever hope still illuminated your face shattered at the mention of the nickname; anyone watching even from a distance could see how the light significantly dimmed in your eyes and the sheer strength it was taking for you to keep your smile from fading. "Wh…What's with the nickname? You haven't called me that in months."

Rogers shoulders were practically made of tightly coiled wire as he rubbed his neck trying to ease some tension that had made its presence felt while he walked to the coffee pot. "I just think it might be making everyone a little sick of us if we keep using it, you know? Rubs in the loneliness more than we need to."

Your face contorted into a pained expression that Loki never wished to see again. It was as if he could see your heart shattering in real time. "You're not making any sense. Why are you acting like this, St--" When your voice fell muffled at the attempt to say his name darkness fell over your features. Suddenly regardless of the harsh light of the morning washing over the floor, it was as if that light didn't dare touch you. Afraid you would snuff it out if it even got too close.

"You fucking idiot," Romanoff seethed, squaring her shoulders and approaching the soldier with pure murder in her eyes. "Don't even try to deny it. The look on her face says it all."

"Hey hey wait a minute what's going on here? Sun's barely up and we have an assassin ready to commit murder on the kitchen floor?" The Winter Soldier had walked into the area ready to defend his best friend at a drop of a hat until he spotted you, hunched over in your seat with your arms around yourself as if you were physically trying to hold yourself together.  Or make yourself smaller. "What's wrong, little doll? Why the tears?"

"I ca--" you choked out, fat tears falling from your lashes and darkening the fabric of your pajama bottoms. "I can't say his name."

The expression on Barnes' face eerily mirrored the Widow's when he looked up at the blond super soldier. "Make that two assassins ready to commit murder," he seethed, glowering at his friend. "We were raised better than this, you goddamn punk. If your mother were here she'd make sure her pots and pans held an indent of your stupid face for what you just did."

"I didn't do anything!" he lied through his teeth, jerking his hands up as if in surrender.

"Then say my name," you said simply, a coldness taking over your demeanor as you stood and approached them. "If you didn't do anything, and whatever's happening between us right now is my fault? Say my name."

"You're putting too much faith in that curse, come on! It's me! Angel face please--"

"You can't say it, can you?" To an untrained eye, with your back facing them, you seemed the picture of cold calmness, as if you were simply being informed that your contract had been terminated and now you were simply settling mere semantics because of protocols. But if they looked close enough then they would find the violently shaking hand, hear the tremble in your voice as you spoke. Your shortness of breath as if you were fighting with all your strength for every inhale. "You can't…because you don't know it anymore."

"Of course I know it!" You tilted your head ever so slightly, as if telling him you'd wait until he could prove it. Instead the buffoon looked around at his friends' faces as if in expectation of a defense from one of them. The defense never came, and the hideous truth of what he'd done made quick work to deal its consequences devoid of subjectiveness.

Your name had been wiped from his mind.

The sound of your hand clapping over your mouth, followed by a muffled sob, caused a part of Loki's heart to splinter. That sound may very well haunt him for the rest of his days. You turned to face him, your other hand clutching your stomach as if you were about to be sick. "You were right," you said with a squeak. "I'm sorry that I doubted you."

Your words squeezed violently at his heart, your name practically fighting to fly out of his mouth as you stood before him with your eyes drowning in the sorrow that Rogers' betrayal had wrought. "Little mortal," he said shakily, fingers twitching, aching, to reach for you. "You need not apologize you did nothing wrong--"

"So it was you," the soldier seethed, charging in this direction before Barnes blocked the way and pinned him in place with his metal arm. "You poisoned her mind against me, that's why she can't say my name anymore!"

"Then explain why you can't even remember it, you goddamn punk," the other soldier retorted, pressing his arm harder against the fidgeting blond. "This isn't her fault and it turns my stomach you even tried to blame the consequences of your dumbass decisions on anyone other than yourself. I'm embarrassed to know you right now." He pointed his other hand in your direction. "She's better than you will ever deserve. And you threw it all away because what? That junior agent batted her eyelashes at you? God damn it you're pathetic--"

"Serge," you broke through Barnes' tirade, brown pitying eyes with rage swimming just beneath the surface meeting yours. "Stop. Before you say something that brings you two to the end of the line."

"You didn't deserve this--"

"If you really wanna do something about it, Serge, keep that one away from his apartment for three hours." Your tone was deceptively calm, the only indicator of your pain was the slightest waver in your voice when you referred to your former lover. Then you turned to face Rogers, your stance mirroring that of when you were preparing yourself for battle. "All traces of me will be gone from your place by then…Captain."

You made your exit from the common area so swiftly that Loki nearly felt a gust of wind from your path. The monotonous chimes of the compound's AI affirming that it will sound an alarm when the three hours were finished followed shortly after a door slammed in the general direction of the Captain's residence. Your former lover let out a whiny disapproval at the sound. "She broke my door! Come on, you two, at least let me make sure she didn't throw a fit and trash my place!"

"You'll be fortunate if that is all she does, you insipid blubbering excuse of a man," the god seethed, storming toward him, conjuring a blade in his hands ready and more than willing to draw blood. "You fool. You had her. You had her and you threw her aside as if her fealty, her love, meant nothing to you."

"And what's it to you, puny god?" he spat out. "I suggest you back off before I call on Banner and ask him nicely to go green just for you."

"Yeah, sorry Cap but fat chance of that happening," the scientist's voice traveled throughout the kitchen area. "I heard enough to know who's side the kids will be taking in the divorce and it's looking a little bleak for you."

"Honestly we should start calling you America's Asshole from now on. Fucking hell I can't believe you had the sheer audacity to take a relationship where you can actually say each other's names and you shit on it for what? Little Miss Tinkerbell with the perky tits and the Oh Captain you're so big and strong bullshit?" The kitchen became more crowded as Stark entered the area, joining in on the imposition. "You do know that she tried it with Point Break, too? The only difference between you and him is that he's loyal to Lady Thunder at an immovable level. He would never be caught dead doing what you just did to your ex."

"Please, she's not--"

"If you honestly think that she's gonna be anything other than done with you after this, then you need to sign yourself up for stand-up comedy because I didn't know you had jokes, Captain," Stark cut him off, his tone dripping with disgust that he was trying so hard to pass off as merely sarcasm.

"She just needs time to come around." Despite the bravado that Rogers was trying to use as a crutch to put up a pitiful confident front, his voice faltered. As if he knew that this truly was the last that he would be hearing from you in any remotely romantic sense. As if he knew that he had lost you.

And deservedly so.

The faint sound of drawers banging shut had Loki fighting back a smirk. Yes, my darling Y/N, he thought to himself. Don't fight your rage. Let it flow through you. You need not hold it in any longer.

"That's assuming she doesn't make a complete mess of our home first."

"When will it register in your impossibly dense skull, Captain, that you have squandered your chance with her? You no longer share a home with her. She is erasing herself from your life as effectively as you have wiped her name from your mind the moment you gave in to the attempts of that would-be temptress." To even think that anyone would look elsewhere when they already had you was truly baffling and infuriating to the god, causing him to grip his blade even tighter.

"You know what, blue boy, you're really starting to get on my nerves," Rogers seethed, starting to surge forward only to once again be thwarted in his attempts by Barnes' metal arm. "This is none of your business. I bet you haven't even known the honor of getting to say someone's name since this curse started, so save your high horse act for someone who'll be stupid enough to buy it. You keep talking about how I threw my chance away, well at least I had a chance. Which is more than I can say for the likes of you."

Loki gritted his teeth, charging foward and poising the tip of his blade an inch away from the adultering Captain's chest. "The only reason I hold back now…the only reason I'm not driving this blade through your heart? The only reason that you're still breathing is that your untimely yet arguably warranted demise would still devastate Y/N."

The mention of your name had everyone's gaze turn sharply toward Loki, who'd chosen to stash his blade away back in his pocket dimension. Shock overtook their features as he turned away from them and took off in the direction of Rogers' apartment. He had more pressing matters to attend to. He could give your former lover grief any time he wished, but right this moment his priority was ensuring that you were alright.

Reassuring you that no matter how dismal things seemed, that you would not be navigating your betrayal alone. That you had him. Even if you knew not the magnitude of how you had him.

A/N: So…welcome to yet another series that happened because I got inspired by a TikTok POV🥴 I can't wait for y'all to see what I have in store for this! And if you're ready to throw the nearest heavy object at Rogers, trust me there's a line and Loki's at the very start of it

‘everything’ taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989

[houserautha]

Only Pleasure Remains

Summary: Feyd-Rautha has other uses for the mouth of the Fremen prisoner refusing to talk.

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x GNFremen!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: he fucks your face, it’s nonconsensual, you kind of like it anyway, smut without plot, you get a facial, WITH his black cum because that’s too iconic of a HC not to include, he gets his happy ending but you don’t get yours. Literally.

A/N: I don’t think a Fremen would ever allow this to actually happen but I’m a whore and a slave to my simpler urges. Not gonna lie I wanted this to happen in the movie. Does this even make sense? I don’t know but it’s hot

The inner walls of the ruined sietch is a brief relief from the oppressive heat beating down on the desert planet. Feyd-Rautha discovers a group of his men restraining a prisoner, sunlight pouring in from the hole over their heads. As they notice him they break apart, revealing you to him for the first time since he received news of a survivor.

You’re covered in sandy grime and blood, the nose piece of your stillsuit dangling free, hair dirtied and loose from its previous style.

And you look fucking beautiful on your knees, even with your face wrenched in disgust and utter defiance. Feyd-Rautha didn’t expect to feel such an intense attraction to a Fremen. In fact, he reserves a moment to study you, to confront his desire like an untamed beast — pry open its mouth and examine its teeth.

“They refuse to talk,” one of the Harkonnen soldiers says. He nudges you with the nose of the lasgun and you snarl — you actually snarl — upper lip pulled back, blue-on-blue eyes glinting with hatred.

A trapped animal, desperate for freedom. Feyd-Rautha feels his cock stir.

“For now,” he says. He raises a hand. “Leave us.”

The soldiers exchange indecipherable glances before leaving, ducking back out into the blazing sun. Feyd-Rautha steps as close to you as he dares. Even with your limbs bound, he’s certain that you would do anything in your power to maim him.

“Your silence rings empty among the cries of those you loved,” he tells you. He towers over you, a sentinel of dangerous, crackling energy, wreathed in black armor. “The others are gone. Dead. What service is your silence to them?”

You stare up at him with your seething gaze.

Feyd-Rautha crouches beside you. Your hostility is nearly enough to bowl him over, a tangible, living creature between you.

“If you deny me this now, I will have no choice but to make you.”

He lifts a gloved hand to your cheek, lovingly whispering his fingers over the curve of your face before grabbing your chin. His grasp is enough to spring tears to your eyes, causing you to bite your tongue and draw blood, its coppery taste filling your mouth.

You should hate him. He stands for everything you’ve rallied against. Hell, he had just ordered his men to obliterate your home, your people. Yet you find yourself incomprehensibly drawn to this man who exudes power as effortlessly as others can breathe. It infuriates you. Revolts you.

Your aching, traitorous body pools with heat as Feyd-Rautha parts your lips and forces his thumb into your mouth. Sand grits over your teeth. His gloves taste of dry leather. Of blood; though it could very well just be your own. He presses his thumb down with enough force to shatter your jaw.

Feyd-Rautha rasps, “Then, since you refuse to speak, I will give your mouth a different purpose.”

He wrests his hand from your chin and pain explodes through your skull.

Feyd-Rautha rises once more to his formidable height and works to liberate his cock from his armor. You watch, horrified, transfixed, as he pulls his pants down just enough to show his powerful thighs and reveal a stomach taunt with muscles. His cock springs free and he wastes no time wrapping his hand at the base and stroking it fervently, all the while gazing down at you with naked, unfettered devotion.

And for some reason the sight of him like that transcends you, strips you completely bare. Your entire body trembles.

The na-Baron fists the hair at the back of your head and, without preamble, guides you to his cock, groaning as the warmth and wetness of your mouth envelops him. Anger flaring, you bite down as hard as you’re able — but instead of revoking himself, Feyd-Rautha snaps his hips, driving him deeper into your mouth instead.

He pants his appreciation, clearly undeterred by your teeth.

You gag on his size. He refuses to ease up, however, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. With each thrust, saliva builds, leaking from the sides of your mouth and wetting his shaft. You have no way to retaliate, to pull away, forced to endure him.

He withdraws long enough to show you the glint of pre-cum on his cock, how he spreads it across the head before burrowing it inside you again. The taste of his pre-cum is salty, mixing with your blood, and you can no longer deny your own arousal — you clamp your lips on his cock and suck, using your tongue to circle the salty mixture over it.

Feyd-Rautha releases a rumbling, guttural moan, hips bucking violently. “That’s right,” he rasps. “Take it.” He ignores your strangled pleas as he pushes himself deeper and deeper within you, tears now streaming down your face and cutting tracks through the sandy grime. He pulls out only to insert himself again, in and out, fucking your throat.

You’re unable to touch yourself, or him, and it makes the entire act that much more torturous. You apply this frustration with your mouth, sucking his considerable length every time he jams it past your lips, your mouth and jaw aching with the furious nature of the fucking.

Feyd-Rautha closes his eyes and loses himself in your slick mouth. He has just laid waste to your people and now you were taking him like the good little rat you were, a renegade whore, letting him force his cock down your throat and you were actually enjoying it.

Without warning, Feyd-Rautha withdraws from you, stroking his shaft and positioning himself before you. “Open,” he demands.

You obey and as soon as you do, warm sprays of his ink-colored cum soak your face. He jerks himself through his orgasm, breathy and primal, smooth brows furrowed in concentration. You breathe heavily, shoulders heaving, greedily drawing the air back into your lungs. It’s then that Feyd-Rautha drags his gloved fingers across your face, smearing his cum then pushing his fingers back into your mouth. You lick and slurp down his seed, languishing in the taste of him, unlike anything you’ve had before.

To offer your expense to a Fremen is to offer your life’s water. You don’t know if he realizes this, or even cares, he just watches you as you suck his gloved fingers clean.

Feyd-Rautha does know this sacrifice, this offering, and thinks it a just trade for what he’s prepared to do. He rights himself, fixing his armor. “Strange, what you wish to comply with,” he says. He leaves you like that — bound and covered with his cum, vulnerable — and as he vanishes around the corner you hear him call out, “Dispose of the rat.”

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[sumeruin]

thinkin about being al haitham’s cute little gf :( kaveh not being able to understand what you, such a pretty, sweet little thing see in the stoic, unromantic man n so al haitham lets him watch while he fucks you until dumb on his cock :( thinkin about al haitham being so so sweet to you after he’s done ruining you n kaveh being surprised he’s capable of being so nice after what he just watched :( angelllll i need him so bad n it’s 5 in the morning help

minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!!

nonnie omg!!! i actually have been planning to write something like this for a while so you sent this at the perfect time <3 also i tried something new with my writing style for these lmk which one we prefer!!! i wrote it like how i write my actual fics just shorter :)

warnings: fem reader, bimbo reader, not really a threesome but kaveh does watch you guys fuck, aftercare, slight dacryphilia and sadism, choking, mentions of drool and spit

kaveh was skeptical, to say the least, when alhaitham told him about you, he’s seen you around the city and he just can’t believe that someone like you is dating someone like alhaitham. you’re just so sweet, and cute, and nice, and if he’s being completely honest, you aren’t exactly the smartest girl out there, and alhaitham is…. well he’s alhaitham. kaveh would’ve thought he’d consider intelligence more when choosing a partner.

he just couldn’t believe it, his roommate, actually managing to find a girlfriend. he was sure something was up. so, when alhaitham so generously offered to let him watch one of your dates he jumped at the chance to finally see what you saw in the cold, unromantic man, not even noticing the small smirk on alhaitham’s lips as he told him about the details.

what he didn’t expect was to see you immediately clinging to haitham once you saw him, holding his arm against your smaller body, looking up at him as if he was the only person in the world while telling him all about your day. kaveh was even more surprised to see haitham nodding along with your talking, actually listening to the pointless stories about how you got your nails done and saw a really pretty dress you were thinking of buying, even adding in his thoughts every once in a while. he was too caught up in his disbelief to see the small glances haitham would send his way every couple minutes.

the rest of the dinner had played out exactly the same, with you acting like haitham had hung the stars for you, him being much kinder than he usually was, and kaveh staring in disbelief. he was even more shocked when haitham invited him to come with you two back to your place, finally noticing the cocky smirk he had been wearing all night and the slightly shy expression on your face.

he accepted the invitation, obviously, and couldn’t believe his eyes at the scene in front of him once you had gotten back. you, pinned down underneath haitham on your bed, completely bare while he had only just barely pulled down his pants, one of his hands wrapped around your neck and the other rubbing hard, unforgiving circles into your clit while he fucked into you.

kaveh couldn’t deny how beautiful you looked though, long, whiny, drawn out moans constantly falling from your lips whenever haitham loosened his grip on your neck enough for them to be heard, the way drool and tears and spit trailed down your chest in an undeniably filthy display of your love, the way you still, despite all the overstimulation and almost sadistic pain alhaitham had been putting you through while he fucked you, looked up at him with such utter devotion in your eyes, as if you were honored to be fucked within an inch of your life by the man.

kaveh watched as haitham’s thrusts into your cunt sped up, watched as he pushed himself all the way in one last time before cumming deep inside of you, and then he watched as he slowly pulled out of you, instantly switching from the aggressive, commanding personality he had been showing just seconds earlier to a softer, sweeter version of himself, wiping your tears away, gently shushing your whimpers and cries with little, quiet coos, wiping down your sweat and cum stained body with a soft washrag and taking care to be extra gentle around your sensitive areas. the change almost gave kaveh whiplash.

at least he finally understands what you see in alhaitham.

[blayresmuses]

HOW THEY SHOW AFFECTION

summary: how the hotd characters show their affection in relationships.

includes: aemond, aegon, alicent, rhaenyra, daemon, jace, harwin

warnings: mentions of sex and mentions of violence

authors note: i honestly don’t even know if this concept makes sense but oh well enjoy :)

once aemond accepts his feelings for you he’s surprisingly attentive and affectionate. everyone at court can see how he dotes on you - not that they’d mention it in front of him - and how even the briefest mention of your name has his head turning. he does shower you in affection physically but you notice more that quality time together seems to be his way of showing his love to you. he often invites you to the library with him or offers to take you out on vhagar. his favourite is when you sit and read to him, his head in your lap and your hand absentmindedly running through his hair. more often than not be finds excuses just to be in your presence - he even returns in the evening after doing his daily activities to have dinner with you, most times even following you to the bathtub after. he just can’t stay away.

aegon is much different, more reluctant to openly declare his feelings but wanting you to feel special all the same. it mostly comes out behind closed doors, a gentle, softer side of him exposing itself. he’d take his time undressing you, caressing you slowly and actually putting your pleasure before his own, something he hasn’t done much with the many girls he’d been with over the years. additionally he often surprises you with lavish gifts, helpfully chosen by his mother more often than not but you appreciate it all the same.

alicent dotes on you sweetly but what makes you really feel special is how much trust she puts in you. she openly confides her deepest secrets in you and tells you her fears, just like you do with her. the two of you share dinner nearly every night where you discuss your days and stresses, you’re often the first one she comes to for council. it’s more about emotional intimacy than anything that shows you how special your relationship is. your chambers are usually filled with your shared whispers well into the night as the two of you lay in each others arms.

when rhaenyra is younger, especially after her brothers are born she is all for being rebellious and you love how special being included in that makes you feel. the two of you are constantly trying to outdo each other and it makes for some fond memories for the two of you as the years pass. she shows her affection to you by simply making you feel wanted and important - she invites you everywhere, always asks for your advice and she especially loves when you reassure her of her position. rhaenyra is also always complimenting you - your dresses, your body, your hair - she’ll say anything to make you blush. it’s been noted in court how often she leans over to you to whisper something in your ear, often leaving you giggling or blushing.

daemons way of showing affection is purely sexual. he’s handsy at the best of times and lecherous at the worst, often pawing at you even when there’s others around - showing everyone that you’re completely his as he is yours. in the bedroom he takes utter care of you, even when he’s rough you can see it in his eyes how much he cares, can hear it in his voice when he murmurs dirty words in valyrian to you. it’s addicting and he refuses to stop until you’ve had a few orgasms at least. what makes your heart flutter the most is how protective he is of you and your marriage, even when he’s blunt when asking of your feelings and often doesn’t have much constructive things to make you feel better. he’d never hear a bad word about you, even if it’s from your own mouth. he’d kill for you and he has no problem proving it.

jacerys is nothing but devoted to you, completely. he surprises you constantly with little trinkets or books, things that mean something to you. he’d do anything to make you smile, only so he can compliment you on it. he’s loving and doting, always clearing gaps in his day to spend quality time with you when he can. he’s affectionate in every way, loving to give you soft kisses on your forehead or on your hand.

harwin is just completely soft for you and only you. he’s affectionate always, keeping a hand on you at all times. he’s protective but not overbearing, letting you do your own thing at balls and when you’re out in kings landing but keeping an eye on you all the same. he adores touching you and it’s usually the first thing he does when he returns to your chambers, takes you in his arms and holds you until he’s content to let go. when you’re alone together he’s glued to your side, even offering you massages just to get to touch you. he also loves teaching you to yield a sword, he laughs the whole time at your determination because let’s face it, you’re not beating him but the two of you enjoy it all the same. it always ends up with the two of you rolling around on the ground after you’ve thrown down your sword and tried to tackle him for too many teasing comments.

[odysseylenoirwrites]

Only With You (Loki x Black!Reader)

Pairing: Loki x Black!Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, manipulation, mentions of stalking, they're both delulu for each other, MDNI.

W/C: 1.9k

Saw this image on tiktok and immediately got the idea for this. I love a good villain. cr: ilikeitbetterinmydreams

Loki x Black Reader

You vanished into thin air. There is no trace of you or any way to identify you. Nothing was removed from your residence—everything was in place, even your phone, wallet, and identification.

Your family prays for your return. They hang up flyers and mourn the loss of you.

But, you're not missing.

You are lost in your own world with the love of your life. The man that would move heaven and earth and other galaxies and realms for you. The most powerful man you've ever met.

You are lost with him.

Being absorbed into a world where no one knows your name, who you are, or anything else about you is the perfect scenario that Loki has created for you.

There is something inherently addictive about being with him. He has changed your view of the world as you know it.

Because he's introduced you to a world that belongs to him, Asgard.

Loki, with his mischievous smile and piercing green eyes, was a force to be reckoned with. He showed you worlds unimaginable, each more breathtaking than the last. The two of you would stroll through ethereal gardens ablaze with vibrant flowers that seemed to possess their own life. You would float hand in hand amidst the swirling nebulae, your laughter echoing across the cosmic tapestry.

"Y/n," Loki speaks to you ever so softly, but his tone holds such masculine energy that always commands your attention.

He stands before you in a cream silk blouse with enough of his bare chest exposed. His pants hug his beautiful thighs, and his boots press against the hardwood floor.

"Yes, Loki?"

Your eyes meet his, and just the touch of his gaze on your skin is enough to make you want him.

The candlelight flickers behind him, creating a cozy, intimate background against his pale skin. 

But those eyes are full of dark things that he's done. Something he wouldn't dare utter to you.

Because he's explained to you that you're the only good thing in his life, you're the only thing he's worth living for. So, instead of continuing his reign of darkness, he has decided to devote his time and energy to creating a life with you.

So, when Loki asked you to leave your life behind and create a new one with him in Asgard, you didn't hesitate. Nothing or no one has ever made you this happy.

"Your bath is ready," Loki says, extending his hand to you.

"Thank you, Loki."

You stand up and lock hands with your lover. Your bare feet dance along the floor, and you follow him into the bathroom.

The bathroom is a grandiose space, adorned with marble and gold accents. The air carries a hint of lavender, courtesy of the bath oils Loki has personally selected for your relaxation. 

As you step inside, the warm steam fills the room, instantly enveloping you in a cocoon of comfort.

The scent of lavender, eucalyptus, and your favorite bath salts hit your nose before your eyes look at the tub. Your bathtub is lined with pink candles.

Loki undresses you, removes your sweater, and tosses your bra. His hand unbuckles your pants as those blue piercing eyes stare deep into your soul.

After every article of clothing is removed, Loki undresses himself. You marvel at him as he's before you, completely nude.

Loki steps into the bathtub first and gets in after. You lean back against his chest, and his warm arms wrap around you.

Loki gestures for you to step into the ornate bathtub, and you oblige, feeling the soothing water caress your skin like a gentle embrace. As you sink into the depths, he whispers in your ear. 

"I want to take care of you, Y/n," he whispers, his voice echoing in the intimate space. "To shower you with love and protect you from any harm."

"I know and I feel safe with you."

"You're not lonely, are you?" Loki asks.

"No, all I need is you."

"It's quite selfless of you to give up everything you knew and love to be with me. I always try to honor you in every way I can because of your dedication."

"I wanted to leave. My life was boring and mundane before meeting you six months ago."

"I know. I watched you... aimlessly admiring you through your window watching you sleep every night for months. I knew that you needed someone to protect you."

"I did... I long for you before I even knew who you were. You complete me. I'm nothing with you."

"You're so loyal and devoted. My brother is coming to visit tomorrow. He's excited to meet you."

"I thought you weren't close to him anymore."

You remember the many conversations has shared with you in that very tub. He's poured out his heart to you about how his brother, Thor, has mistreated him. Loki has expressed how he never fit in with his family, and his brother always made a point to remind him that he's adopted. 

Unsurprisingly, you're not quite happy to meet a man who doesn't see how amazing your lover is. 

"Things can change."

"Well, I look forward to meeting him, then."

"Now, get on all fours so I can show you how much I appreciate my Angel."

Your heart flutters at the thought of being one with him again. You miss him being inside of you.

"Want me to appreciate you, right?" Loki asks.

"Yes."

Loki watches you get into position and how quickly you obey him. A smirk plays on his lips at how easily it was to put you under his spell.

Sure, his initial intention was to trick you into submitting to him and running off to Asgard with him. But the more he learned about you, the more he developed real feelings for you.

He felt he'd never experienced before, nor was it capable for him to amass. 

Your beautiful dark wavy hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and the water swirls around you as you wait for your Loki, your KKing, to take you. 

Loki loves seeing you wait patiently for him. A warmth that only you can spark swirls throughout his body and sits in his crotch. His dick twitches for you. 

Your life was nothing but chaos before he walked into your life. Loki carefully and cautiously waited for months before even approaching you. 

He noted your very particular hobbies, things you liked and disliked. He observed you at work with your friends and family. He wanted to know as much as he could before the first conversation. He needed to understand you completely. 

He knew that to win your heart, he had to show you that he genuinely cared about every aspect of your life.

"Angel," Loki speaks. 

He runs his hand down your smooth back, and your body jolts to his touch. He runs his hand down your ass, slides from your pussy, and stops at your clit.

"Yes? My King."

The words roll off your tongue, and he runs his hand between your thighs.

You rock your core against his palm. Your eyes are closed, and you're lost in the moment with your love. 

"You're soaked."

"I've missed you."

"We made love last night."

"I know... but you make me.. Needy."

You admit. No one has ever made you feel this way. 

The euphoric feeling of his finger teasing your clit is sending your body to new heights.

"Cum for your King," Loki growls. It's enough to push you over the edge. 

Your body spills over to another realm as you reach your peak. His words, combined with his skillful touch, are all you need to submit to your King. 

"I love how obedient you are. Look at me."

You turn around and stare into his icy-blue eyes. You straddle his waist.

"Ride me, beautiful."

You grab his length and slide down onto him. You moan at the feeling of your love being inside of you again. There's something about him that you adore so much. You can't get over how good it feels to have him buried inside of you. 

Your bodies rock together, and Loki holds you in place with a grip around your waist. His eyes lock in with yours. The way he admires you should be a sin.

You bask in the moment of being one with Loki, your King. The only man you will ever serve. Your heart races with excitement, and each time he bounces you on his dick, it brings you to a new level of passion. 

"You're so pretty, Y/n," Loki compliments you. "Taking my dick like this. You're doing so good."

"Thank you, King."

Your stomach flutters, hearing you compliment him like this. Your skin heats up, and your face grows hot. Loki leans forward, kissing you on your collarbone.

You roll your hips, and he meets your movement. He picks you up, and your legs wrap around his waist. You toss your arms around his shoulders. 

Loki pounds into you at a merciless rhythm. His movements are erratic, but you're lost in the moment. He slips his tongue into your mouth, and you deepen the passionate kiss. 

"I love being inside of you.. So wet for me." Loki mentions in between kisses. 

You moan into his mouth, feeling him thrust deep inside of you. He hits your G-spot with precision, and your legs shake with pleasure.

"Harder, King," you beg.

He smirks, kissing you harder as he increases his pace. His thrusts become more forceful, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"You're so beautiful when you beg for me," Loki whispers. "I love seeing you like this, completely at my mercy."

Your heart pounds in your chest as he continues to dominate you, his blue eyes never leaving your face. His hands grip your waist tightly, pulling you closer with each thrust.

"I want to see you cum, Y/n," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me when you're going to cum for me."

The intensity of his words makes your core quiver. "I'm going to cum," you cry out. 

The sensations are intense and overwhelming, as if everything that has been building between us finally reaches its peak. 

Every cell in your body is alight with excitement and love as Loki thrusts into me with wild abandon. Your screams of passion mix with his growls of desire as he works us both to the brink of ecstasy.

"Cum for me, Y/n," Loki demands, the intensity in his voice making your heart race. You can't hold back any longer. You feel your muscles tighten around him, and you cry out as waves of pleasure wash over me.

Loki slows his movements, his breath ragged. He pulls out of me, leaving me feeling empty and exposed. You look up at him, your heart racing and your body trembling.

"You're mine, Y/n," Loki says, his voice soft but firm. "And you will be for the rest of your life."

You smile up at him, feeling a surge of love and devotion wash over me. You know in that moment that your life has changed for the better. You are no longer the same person you were before Loki came into your life.

"Yes, King," You whisper, your voice shaking with desire and passion.

[generouskittentidalwave]

Watching the She-ra reboot after 5-6 years

Hey remember that show in 2018 that came out on Netflix during Tumblr's Twitter era and stirred up enough toxicity to turn you into Dave the Skeleton in the highschool science classroom?

Well BUCKLE IN for a RIDE cause I recently watched that show for the first time after avoiding it for YEARS, after seeing the fans and the haters be so devoted to either the fans praising it like a godsent deity or haters devoting their whole life to finding something wrong with every aspect of the show that it makes you wonder if they realized that they've become the Catra that they sought to destroy, I decided to avoid even touching the show and went about my life in other fandoms.

Well years have passed and like a Hallmark movie time abruptly went on and the drama soon faded, the tides have settled, the war has ended, and neither side remains the same. The fans have grown up, matured and enjoy the show as it is and the haters have lost all that sweet sustenance back in 2019 and have went the ways of the DoDo. With everything finally settled, I joined in on the rush of new fans recently that started rewatching the series and wanted to display my thoughts as well as a first time watcher ^^

I went in well aware of all the criticisms in mind, and having seen the original She-ra, and I just gotta say that my worrisome thoughts on watching it was completely washed away from the start of the show. I was worried of Adora being that one marysue character that is from the bad guys side but is actually a good a guy with the personality of white bread and with flaws of just being "a little bit QuiRkY" but she completely shooed away those fears. She is a well balanced character with a unique and well done backstory, her character breaking away from the steriotypical chosen ones and her having flaws that don't take away her being a good person but instead have their own charm and relatability that makes her very fun and down to earth. She is so golden retriever coded and I love it. What I like most though is that she wasn't "random main character comes in to lead everyone to victory out of nowhere" , instead of making her the unsaid leader, they made her the main character who is the muscle of the group and part of the heart and has to learn overtime and understand their ways instead of making her the leader. It makes way for her to pave and earn her way as being the main character instead of it being given by default by making her the leader and I love that break away. And that break away also helps to counter the fears I heard about the white savior trope by making Adora the way she was and making Glimmer and Glimmer's mom the queen the actual leaders of the rebellion that they helped start.

Love the best friends squad, I love Glimmer's growth and her bond with Adora, I like how she went downhill and built herself back up again as a person as it was very realistic with her being so young and having to replace her mom as queen. Bow is my spirit animal, period, but I really want to know more about his huge family. I imagine that because they are all historians they must go to the academy or similar academies that Bow was meant to go to and I can see why they wouldn't question him not being there as 12 siblings is A LOT to keep track of. Swiftwind is great but he shall always be known as Horsie and the queen's sacrifice hurts everytime I see it, I love how she owned up to her own flaws. Shadowweaver messed up being a mother figure 3 times, she needs parenting classes fr, 'nough said. I love all the princesses but Mermista is my personal favorite. Also why is aunt cast named Castaspella, I can't even say it without dying of laughter 💀🖐️

Now I know some of you are sitting at your computer with 5 monsters in hand and sweat anxiously dripping from your forehead as you dramatically hover over the keys just WAITING to write a five page essay response if I even dare to utter the name Catra and her relationship with Adora. So, I'ma give you my opinion.

Honestly, their romance was the end goal since the beginning and the story made that clear and honestly I like Catra's growth as a character from her knowing she has anger issues and actively working on it to better herself, helping to save others and helping to save Adora in the end. Her realizing that pushing others away to protect herself only harms her and everyone around her in the end and her realistically taking it slow and steady to better herself as a person for herself and for Adora is something a really like. Yes their relationship was hella toxic, especially in the middle (but I do like how Adora recognized that and punched Catra when they were in the portal). The build up was great, the middle ground of her doubling down was great, and I think her growth at the end was great and that the two are happy and not in a toxic relationship with eachother anymore at the end. I think what truly makes it odd is although the redemption was great the time constraints made it so they couldn't flesh it out to help answer and address the past actions that were caused by her, they did so great with her slowly becoming better and better, and so it wouldn't have come off as bad as it did if they had just a bit more time to address everything with that instead of being forced to dive right into it which definitely left a- well- less than good impression to it's audience. But they tried their best with what they could do and honestly for a show as surprisingly dark as this I'm just glad they aren't in a toxic relationship anymore and are happy in the end and that Catra got redeemed. It definitely wasn't trying to romanize abuse, however it came off as such due to constraints and them rushing the ending which gave plenty of ammo to people who already hated the show to have a reason to hate it more. In my opinion if you don't like it that's valid, if you do like it that's valid, me personally I'm not a romance person so I couldn't care enough either way.

Now to address some things I know some people are waiting for, but in speed run fashion. Mara's She-ra design was the fault of the designers not agreeing on what they wanted her to look like, I was expecting her to have brown flowing hair not blonde, I get the stripping of individuality message they tried to go with, it just needed better designers and better execution but that's as deep as it goes. It's not that they are racist, they are more along the lines of "you need a more organized team cause her design changes every five seconds like wtf" kind of situation. I'm glad they didn't automatically forgive Hordak or accept him but I'm glad he was changed enough to not be a killer that's mass murdering people anymore and as long no one is dying by his hands anymore and people don't automatically forgive him then that's fine by me, whatever keeps others from dying a horrible unnecessary death.

Overall, in conclusion, love the show, great depth, great characters, love the humor and amazing magical girl transformations, awesome rep, stronk princess punching things, would most definitely recommend, especially now with all the wave of chaos it's initial release sucked in now evaporated. (Seriously there are full tags and blogs deticated to hating a show about glowing princesses fighting aliens, it's okay to not like a show but come on people there is more to life than that 💀) Enjoy it, have fun, and I hope you have a great day/night! ^^