#/night i love you so much you did a great job today and i appreciate all the things you bring to the people around you. you deserve good and

[wiltedflowerpetals]

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At first, you, Mrs. Price, thought that you had to go on a normal but dangerous mission. You only had to get some intel. Get in and out. Easy… right?

But getting captured was not on your to-do-list for this mission…

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Hi! Thanks for reading the third part, I wish you all a great day! Also a small reminder: I take requests for this series and all the fandoms I write for!

Words: 2217

Warning: angsty, no death so don’t worry, angry and worried John Price

Part 1: Wife Meets Friend | Part 2: Wife On A Mission

You stirred, your body instinctively seeking out John’s warmth. His arm was draped protectively over your waist, and you smiled softly. For a few blissful seconds, you allowed yourself to forget about the dangerous world outside or the mission you went on yesterday.

John shifted beside you, his hand tightening around you as he woke up. “Morning.” He murmured, his voice deep and drowsy.

“Morning.” You replied, turning to face him. His hair was tousled, and his eyes were still heavy with sleep.

“You slept well.” He noted, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek.

“I did.” You said, leaning into his touch. “Better than I have in a while.”

“Good.” John said with a smile. “You needed it.”

You two lay there for a while longer, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other’s company. You always treasured these moments - moments where you could enjoy your simple life with your lovely husband in bed. Eventually, you knew you had to get up.

“I’ll make breakfast.” You offered, slipping out of bed and heading towards the kitchen. John followed you a few minutes later, still in his pajamas, looking more relaxed than you’d seen him in days.

As you moved around the kitchen, preparing your usual breakfast, you stole glances at him. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the sound of his low chuckle when you teased him about his bedhead - it was all so precious to you.

You could see that John was trying to enjoy the calm as much as you were, and you appreciated his effort to keep things light. But you could sense a lingering concern in his eyes. He hadn’t mentioned your odd behavior from the previous night, but you knew he was still worried.

When breakfast was over, John stood and started to clear the dishes. “I’ve got this.” He said, motioning for you to relax. “You should take it easy before you head to work.”

You smiled, appreciating the gesture. “Thanks, but I’m fine. I don’t want you doing all the work.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You work too hard, you know that?”

“I know...” You chuckled.

After breakfast, you headed upstairs to get ready for the day. As you dressed for your supposed office job, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It was a subtle tension in the air, but you didn’t know what exactly was off.

Just as you were about to leave, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. You glanced at the screen and saw Kate’s name. You heart skipped a beat as you answered the call, praying that you didn’t had to lie to your husband again and could just relax with him today. “Kate.”

“Morning, (Y/N).” Kate greeted her, her tone all business. “I need you to meet me at the usual spot. We’ve got a situation.”

You sighed. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve got intel on a new target.” Kate explained. “This one’s sensitive. You’ll need to handle it alone.”

You nodded. You were used to working solo, and while you preferred it, the timing couldn’t be worse. “I’ll be there soon…”

“Good.” Kate said. “And (Y/N)… be careful. This one’s different.”

“Understood.” You replied, before ending the call.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. Whatever this mission was, it required your full attention. You finished getting ready, making sure your appearance was as normal as ever before heading downstairs. John was in the living room, flipping through the news on the television when you approached.

“I’ve got to head to work.” You said, leaning down to kiss him goodbye.

John looked up, a slight frown creasing his brow. “Another busy day?”

“Unfortunately.” You replied with a small pout. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Be safe.” He said, his voice laced with that familiar concern.

“I always am.” You reassured him, before turning to leave.

Kate’s warning echoed in her mind, as you drove away. But you had a job to do, and you couldn’t afford to let your personal fears get in the way.

You met Kate at a discreet location on the outskirts of the city, where you could speak freely without the risk of being overheard. Kate’s expression was grim when you arrived, and she wasted no time getting to the point.

“The target is a man named Mikhailov.” Kate began, handing you a dossier. “He’s resurfaced after years of staying under the radar. We have reason to believe he’s planning something big, and we need to find out what it is.”

You flipped through the dossier, scanning the information. Mikhailov was a name you hadn’t heard before, but the details were troubling. He had connections to various criminal organizations, and his recent activities suggested he was gearing up for something major.

“You’re going in alone.” Kate continued. “We need you to gather intel, find out what he’s planning, and report back. But be careful - Mikhailov is dangerous, and he won’t hesitate to eliminate any threats.”

You nodded. “I’ll handle it.”

“I know you will.” Kate said, her tone serious. “But I need you to be extra cautious this time. Something about this doesn’t sit right with me.”

You met her gaze, seeing the concern in your friend’s eyes. “I will. You have my word.”

With that, you set off on the mission. The location you were heading to was an abandoned warehouse in Budapest - a perfect place for someone like Mikhailov to conduct shady business. You parked your car a few blocks away and made your way to the warehouse on foot.

The building was heavily guarded, but you were a master at slipping past security. You moved like a ghost, silently taking out any obstacles in your path. Inside, you found what you were looking for - Mikhailov was meeting with a group of men, discussing plans that were clearly meant to stay secret.

You listened carefully, gathering as much information as you could. But just as you were about to slip away, something went wrong. One of Mikhailov’s men spotted you, and before you could react, you were surrounded. They moved quickly, disarming you and forcing you to the ground.

“Look what we have here.” Mikhailov said, his voice dripping with malice as he approached you. “A little spy.”

You glared up at him. You had been in tight spots before, and you knew better than to panic. But this time, something felt different. Mikhailov’s cold eyes bored into your, and you realized that this was no ordinary capture.

“You’ve made a big mistake coming here.” Mikhailov continued, his voice low and menacing. “Did you really think you could sneak in and out without anyone noticing?”

You remained silent, knowing that anything you said could be used against you. You were outnumbered and outgunned, and there was no easy way out of this. Your thoughts flickered to John, wondering if you would ever see him again.

Mikhailov ordered his men to take you away, and you found yourself roughly shoved into a waiting van. They tied your hands behind your back and blindfolded you, so you couldn’t find out where they are going to bring you. As the van sped away, you realized that you were in serious trouble, and for the first time, you weren’t sure how you were going to get out of this damn situation.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Back at home, John spent the day going through his usual routine, but there was a weird feeling that he couldn’t shake off. As evening approached, he realized that you hadn’t returned yet. You hated being late and would always text or call him in case you truly were busy with work. Maybe that was the reason why John started to worry more than usually.

He tried calling you, but there was no answer. Anxiety gnawed at him as he paced the living room, his mind racing with possibilities. He tried to convince himself that you were just busy, that you would walk through the door any minute now with an apology for being late. Just like on many days before. But there was still no sign of you and his worry turned into full-blown fear.

Just as he was about to grab his keys and go out to try to find you, his phone rang. He snatched it up, hoping it was his sweet wife, but the number on the screen wasn’t yours.

“Kate?” He said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Make it quick. I need to get out-”

“(Y/N) has been kidnapped.”

His grip tightened on the phone. “What…?”

John’s breath caught in his throat. “Kidnapped? What the hell are you talking about, Kate? How could this happen?”

Kate’s tone was serious. “I don’t have all the details yet, but it appears that Mikhailov is behind this.”

“Mikhailov?” John repeated, the name triggering a flood of memories - dark memories he’d hoped to never think of ever again. Mikhailov was a ruthless terrorist and a ghost from his past. John had thought he’d killed the man years ago, but apparently, he’d survived. “I thought he was dead.”

“So did we at first…” Kate admitted. “But it seems he’s resurfaced, and he’s not done with whatever vendetta he’s holding. I’m sorry, John, I didn’t know how deep this ran.”

John’s mind raced. You had been taken by a man he thought he’d defeated, a man that killed every damn soldier in his previous team, before he became the captain of 141. The thought of Mikhailov getting his hands on you made his blood run cold.

“What does he want with her?” John demanded, his voice thick with worry and anger. “She’s not involved in any of this.”

Kate hesitated, and John’s heart sank further. “I don’t know yet…” She said carefully, choosing her words. “But Mikhailov has a long history of targeting people to get what he wants. He might know about your connection to her…”

John’s mind flashed with images of what Mikhailov did back then. All the blood John had to see on that damn day. “I’m going after her.” He said, his voice hard with determination. “I’m not letting that bastard take her.”

“I had a feeling you’d say that.” Kate replied, her tone softening slightly. “But, John, you need to be careful. Mikhailov is dangerous. Going after him alone isn’t a good idea.”

“I don’t care.” John snapped. “I’m not sitting around while she’s out there, God knows where, in the hands of that monster.”

Kate sighed. “I understand, but you’re not alone in this. You have people who can help. Your task force-”

“No.” John cut her off. The fear of history repeating itself weighed heavily on him. The last time he’d faced Mikhailov, good men had died. “I’m not putting them at risk. I’ll do this on my own.”

“John, listen to me.” Kate sighed. “You need to think this through. Mikhailov isn’t someone you can take down by yourself. You have a team for a reason. Let them help you.”

John hesitated, he wanted to protect his team, but also needed to save his wife. He knew Kate was right - going after Mikhailov alone would be suicide. But the thought of involving the 141-... God, no, he wouldn’t want to see them die as well…

“John.” Kate continued; her voice gentler now. “You can’t do this alone. I know you’re scared, but (Y/N) needs you to be smart about this. Don’t do this by yourself.”

John closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. She was right. He knew she was right. He thought of his team - Gaz, Ghost, Soap - all of them were capable and willing to risk everything for each other. They were his brothers-in-arms. If they asked for help, he would help them immediately…

“Alright.” John finally said. “I’ll call them in.”

Kate sounded relieved. “That’s the right call, John. I’ll do everything I can to support you from here. We’ll get her back.”

John hung up the phone and took a deep breath in. His thoughts were a mixture of fear, anger, and determination. He couldn’t lose you. Not now, not ever.

He quickly dialed the numbers of his team members. Each conversation was short, their responses immediate and unwavering. They’d be there, ready to help him get John’s wife back, no questions asked.

Within the hour, 141 gathered at a secure location, prepared for what was to come. John stood before them, his face a mask of grim determination.

“Thanks for coming.” He began, his voice steady and calm despite the fear inside. “I’m not going to lie to you - this is personal. (Y/N) has been taken by Mikhailov, a man I thought I killed years ago. He’s dangerous, ruthless, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants.”

The team listened intently; their expressions serious. They knew what was at stake. Your life.

“We’re going after him.” John continued, locking eyes with each of them. “But we do this smart. No unnecessary risks, no heroics. We get her out, and we take him down. This ends today.”

They nod. John smiled at them, grateful that they will help him. He wasn’t alone in this fight. Together, they will fight and bring the love of his life back. No matter the cost.

🔖 Taglist: @starriestarlight

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Reblogs and comments are appreciated.( ‘ω’ )

© nanamisflowerfield/wiltedflowerpetals. Do not repost, rewrite, plagiarize my work.

[exhaslo]

Ahhhhh omg ty for writing my request of Pornstar!Miguel x Pornstar!Reader it was so cute and sooooo great <33 I loved it very much !!

IDK if you wanted to write a part 2 for it, but since you ended it off like you did, I was wondering what would happen when they meet outside. I kind of want to see a Jealous!Reader who gets jealous seeing Miguel work with someone else for a shoot cuz it looks like he’s having a great time with his co-star. But Reader takes him back to her place and gives him the night of his life? I appreciate a Dom!Miguel, but I was wondering if the roles can be reversed this time with a Dom!Reader? Not necessarily a Sub!Miguel but like more body worship and Reader trying to prove that she’s the only one for him. Get him pussy drunk >< Thank you again, and I hope the holidays don’t get too hectic for you ;-;

Ty & you're welcome!! I'm glad you liked the first request!!! I hope you enjoy this one too!

PT 1

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, riding, overstimulation, creampie

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It had been a few weeks since you and Miguel started working together. The chemistry the two of you shared was nothing you ever felt before. Honestly, you might even call this love. You weren't quite sure, especially since the type of work you did made you question the concept.

But sure enough, Miguel gave you reason to believe. Every time the two of you shared a screen, you had to compose yourself and remember that everyone thought you were acting. Hell, they were fully convinced that you were a star.

You were good, that much was true. The only time you could let yourself go and be free was when you and Miguel met at either his place or yours. Miguel was absolutely destroy you, making you question if sex work was the kind of job you were good at.

Sex was different with him. Everything was different with him. Part of you wanted to tell Miguel that you wanted to quit working as a Pornstar and just be a normal couple with him, but you were scared. Part of you wondered if Miguel even liked you back. If he even shared the same feelings that you did.

"(Y/N)!" Miguel called out, waving towards you. You hurried to his side, nuzzling your head into his chest to hide from the cold,

"Gosh! I didn't expect it to be this windy today."

"Yep," Miguel wrapped his arm around you, keeping you sheltered from the wind, "Before we get to our movie, I want to tell you something. I got a gig with another person. My manager told me to take it, b-"

"I understand, it's the job." You forced a smile, resting your head against him, "As long as we still have these moments to ourselves, I don't...mind"

---------

Oh you gave so much shits.

Literally the next day, you went to work and couldn't help but poke your head into Miguel's studio. There were butterflies in your stomach. This was a bad idea, but you were curious. You wanted to know who dared tried to steal your man er, partner, no, coworker. Yes, coworker!

You felt your heart sink as you watched Miguel smile towards your competition. Of course, it had to be your rival. The two started to shoot and it just kept getting worse for you. Miguel looked like he was enjoying himself with her.

Unable to watch as your rival started her horrible moans, you hurried home. You claimed that you were sick.

---------

Miguel stepped out of the shower after his shoot, sighing softly. He glanced at his phone, seeing a message from your manager. Miguel furrowed his brows as he read that you went home. Sick? You always gloated that you never got sick.

"Wow, Miguel, that was amazing. You know, I think we make a pretty good team. Why don't we-"

"No," Miguel said as he quickly finished to get dressed,

"Awe, don't be so mean~ How about I take you out on a date?"

"No. Got me a girlfriend," Miguel said firmly, packing his bag. Your rival just huffed,

"And she's okay with your job? She's okay with you fucking another beautiful woman?"

That was it. Miguel felt a light bulb appear above his head as he hurried out of the shower room. Leaving for the day, Miguel stepped out of the building and saw you in your car. He approached, wondering what you were doing.

"Get in," You huffed, rolling down the window.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Miguel asked, sitting down. You started to drive to your place,

"Yes." You lied.

Miguel smiled softly towards you, enjoying your cute jealously. He went to reach for your hair, playing with it as you drove.

--------

You were mad. Once you entered your apartment, you pushed Miguel onto the wall and started kissing him. You didn't want Miguel to enjoy working with other women. You want him to want you only. Who cares about what your managers wanted!

Pushing Miguel onto your couch, you sat on his lap and started to furiously grind against him. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you deepen the kiss. Miguel just held your waist, moving his hips along yours.

Gosh, if you weren't taking charge of this, you'd let him fuck you dumb right now. Feeling the friction starting to hurt, you quickly took off your skirt and panties. Miguel helped with your shirt, before you returned to his throbbing dick.

Taking off his pants and boxers, you grabbed his dick and started to stroke it. You were going to have Miguel burn this night into his memory. Have him remember that you are the only one for him. Hopefully he thought that.

Sucking against his tip, you moaned lowly as you played with yourself. Miguel's dick was far too big for you to take in your mouth. You tried several times. You whimpered, trying to take more of him in as you stroked his dick faster.

"(Y/N), don't....force yourself," Miguel groaned lowly, gripping onto your hair.

You muffled in protest, causing Miguel to moan. With one more lick, you watched Miguel twitch, ready to burst. Precum already dripping from his dick. You resisted a chuckle, unable to hold out much longer either.

It was funny how good the two of you were when working, but when it came to being at home? Oh, you both let yourselves loose and gave into the lust.

"I hope you're ready for a long night," You told him.

You whimpered, moaning lowly as you slowly sat on his cock. No matter how many times you fucked, his dick would always stretch you out and fill you. You almost cam on the spot. Resisting a moan, you started to bounce against his dick.

The sheer size of him was going to make you tap out for the night. Your pussy kept sucking him in while his dick twitched inside of you. The sounds of his moans were turning you on more. Resting your head against his shoulder, you whimpered a moan as you cam hard.

Miguel was not long to follow. His tight grip against your waist made you weak in the knees. You kept bouncing on his dick, becoming a slightly moaning mess as he filled you. This wasn't enough. You weren't going to let him go so easily.

"Let me take over, (Y/n)." Miguel whispered, kissing your neck. You gently pushed him back onto the couch,

"N-No! I'm taking control tonight and...I'm not going to let you rest until you learn your lesson." You huffed. Miguel just chuckled, cupping you breasts,

"Very well. I'll just ruin your pussy by sitting still."

You moaned lowly as you began to shake. Your vision was blurring as you felt your burning knot about to burst again. Your gummy walls squeezing the life out of his dick, making your mind hazy. With another bounce, you cried out as his dick rubbed against you g-spot, causing you to orgasm.

"Such a beautiful sight," Miguel hummed. You were breathing heavily, unsure how much longer you could keep going,

"Not...yet."

Eventually, you gave Miguel permission to move you to the bed. He laid down, moaning and groaning to your uncontrollable lust. You were milking him dry. Bouncing against his dick as if him cumming inside you four times wasn't enough.

Miguel was breathing heavily now as he watched you cry out from overstimulation. You were struggling to fuck him, probably because your legs gave out. Sitting up, Miguel swapped positions, pressing you against the bed,

"(Y/N), you're so fucking beautiful. Of course I know that his pussy is mine and mine alone. Think I don't get jealous thinking about all the men who had a taste of you?" Miguel groaned into your ear, snapping his hips into yours.

"A-Ah~ M-Miggy~" You whined, feeling weak. Miguel grunted and moaned as he fucked you roughly,

"You're mine. Only I get to enjoy this pussy like this. Only I can have you like this."

"I...I'm going to quit..." You admitted, squirming as you felt another orgasm coming, "I-I only want you!"

"Then I suppose I'll have to quit too,"

Miguel pulled you into a kiss, shaking as the two of you cummed together. Miguel groaned as he pulled out, watching his cum spill out of your abused cunt. He pulled you beside him, nuzzling his head into your neck,

"You did well...I'm exhausted." He muttered. You rolled on top of him, smirking as you slid his dick into you again,

"I said I...was t-taking over for the night. I'm n-not stopping until you get drunk off me."

Miguel just chuckled weakly in response, already pussy drunk. He held your hips, watching you cry out in pleasure. Perhaps you were just trying to get pregnant, but whatever the reason, Miguel gave you want you wanted.

-------

You both had a goddamn good reason to call out the next day.

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Hope you enjoyed~

[marthawrites]

"don't shut me out. please"

I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼

Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!

Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word Count: 6.3k+

About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.

Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!

read part 2 Between the Covers here

-

I.

There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.

First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)

Second, have a dog. 

They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.

While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.

Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.

“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.

“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.

He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.

“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”

“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.

“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”

You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”

“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”

“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.

“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.

Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too. 

Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious. 

Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.

Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.

Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”

Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.

“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.

He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”

You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.

II.

You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head. 

Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:

Someone missed you tonight! 

While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:

Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.

Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:

Yup! See you then?

And he sent:

I’ll find another excuse to be there. 

Feeling a little bold, you replied:

Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?

When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:

Maybe so. See you Monday.

Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way. 

During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.

You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.

III.

“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.

Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”

“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.

“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.

“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”

If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”

The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”

If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.

“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.

She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.

Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”

Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen. 

It was haunting.

Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.

Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.

Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door. 

When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.

Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang. 

Aemond. 

Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”

“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.

Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”

“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.

“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”

Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”

“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

IV.

It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!

Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished. 

The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.

A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.

Love.

Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.

If he felt the same he’d say something, right?

Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.

And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else. 

"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?" 

Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt. 

As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.

Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.

It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages. 

Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.

But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.

Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages. 

You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.

"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.

That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"

And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.

There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress. 

"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"

"I have no idea why she sent–"

" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.

"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"

" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."

He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.

You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."

He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.

He shut your door with a deliberate click.

You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose. 

Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.

Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.

V.

The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.

The only thing you said to him was a single text:

I need time. Please understand

Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.

Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.

Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.

VI.

The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.

Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.

A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.

After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!

On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.

"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.

"Hi," you said.

"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"

Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."

He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?" 

You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?

"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.

I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.

You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.

"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.

"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.

He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.

Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure. 

Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"

He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.

You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.

One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please." 

He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.

Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.

You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.

"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast.  “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.

“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall. 

He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.

The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”

Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”

He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.

You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity. 

Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.

Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side. 

When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.

He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."

With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."

Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"

You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.

Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said. 

He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.

Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts. 

His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.

"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.

"You'll get no argument from me," he said.

Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.

All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."

"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"

You smirked. "I'm suggesting."

Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl." 

Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"

A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"

You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."

"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."

You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.

Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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Masterlist

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[honestsycrets]

brujería i: inhuman | ceo!miguel x succubus!reader

❛ pairing | ceo!miguel x succubus!reader

❛ type | doubleshot, explicit

❛ summary | since taking over his bio-father's company, miguel just can't seem to sleep. there may be someone behind that though. or, a succubus wants miguel.

❛ tags | some sacrilege, succubus!reader, ceo!miguel, sex-dreams, sleepy sex, dub!con: miguel is asleep during many encounters, exhibitionism outside of a church, f!reader, some mention of blood and wounds, au with deviations from canon, slight hurt miguel, slight caretaking peter, excessive bodily fluids, some mindgames.

❛ request fulfilled | Was wondering if i could request ceo!miguel x succubus! reader? whether he’s spider-man is completely up to you but reader is basically like a demon hiding in plain sight, toying and feeding on the sexual energy of people. maybe she’s a new hire and then she visits him in his dreams or smth. miguel becomes her target and he finds himself falling in love with her and wanting her so much it brings out an intense carnal desire inside him (1/2)

❛ sy's notes | i based some of miguel's sleep paralysis on my own experience. the catholic religious connotations are not very heavy, but if you're sensitive to that sort of thing, i'd probably skip this one.

Miguel O’Hara was never a superstitious man.

He grew up in a deeply Catholic home thick with superstition. His grandmother’s rosary still sat on his desk, enveloped in a spherical glass alongside stacks of organized paperwork on the latest drug his not-so-dearly held biological father left before he kicked it. Corruption was fiercely rooted, a fact that Miguel was not so subtle about. The papers he rifled through that morning revealed the stupidest account of Brujería among reports of Rapture.

“Brujería-- what bullshit,” he murmured as he dropped a stack of papers back onto the oak desk. He glanced at the glass tabletop and found his reflection therein. His eyes, crinkled at the edges, carried the reflection of countless days of his dark exhaustion. “Si no es una cosa es otra.”

“Miguel?”

“What, Lyla?” Miguel threw a glare at the ceiling at the AI that sang at him. She seemed far too happy with her position as the resident terror of his new office. New was an overstatement. It was his father’s before he croaked, reflected in some of his tacky taste in the things Miguel had immediately thrown out. Why else would it have a picturesque, but grandiose view of Nueva York but for a great view of the people he was destroying? The bright windows also did a bang-up job of burning his eyes

“The psychiatrist is here,” she chirped. “Are you going to tell her about your wet dreams?”

The flutters that danced over his skin at night at the strike of three. Foreign warmth caressed his skin like a warm blanket over his skin. His heart rate raced, and pleasure burrowed under his skin. It never failed that Miguel would wake to a rush of pleasure, cum painting his sheets sticky, his heart soaring into his throat. With such pleasure, why would he tell anyone but Lyla about his pathetic, ruined state that came night after night?

Miguel waved his hand in dismissal. He instead checked the chunky watch on his wrist. You're just on time. He appreciates a punctual professional given how much work he had to complete. In lieu of the report of spiritual abuse, he picks up the pile of sexual misconduct. That was a more pressing matter to address. The actual victims were far more important than some bruto’s complaint of ojos based on a huevo in some water. He should send these idiots to any middle schooler’s chemistry class. The bruja who was coming to visit him today could hardly be a source of concern.

“Why would I do that? Let her in. You listen in and I’ll unplug you.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” Lyla teased, but he knew she was right. Lyla was one of his only friends and by far the one he spent the most time with. She has patience for him. He slips his reading glasses out of their holster as the lock on his office door hisses apart, welcoming in the strange woman whose name he could never find but in Stone’s personal records. A chroí, my love, like Stone could love anyone else but himself.

“Dr. O’Hara.”

Miguel slipped the lenses on. Not only was the woman before him, not the sort of hippy-dippy woman he expected, but you were… familiar. Oh, so familiar. He’s never met you before. Yet, he finds himself inexplicably pulled to closing the gap between your bodies.

You extend your hand for him to take.

“Dr…” You finished his sentence by offering your name.

“Have I met you before?” His large hand clasped your own. A blanket of warmth blossomed from your small hand in his grip. Gentle at first, your very same small hands laced in his. The sudden realization of where he’d seen you hit him like a bullet through the head: unexpected and instantaneous. The image rippled across his mind, Miguel’s hand collared on your nape, his fat dick splitting your cunt against his office’s wide windows. Another pulse of heat soared through his hand--

Miguel jerked his hand back. What in the hell?

“¿Estás bien?” You were so close that he could smell the perfume on your skin. A dark cherry, sultry, and so good. He was swimming in the vague delusion that was your skin against his. There was something delicious about the way you looked at him, tracing the outline of his tie that sat tightly behind a constricting vest. He was hazy, clumsily falling back into his office chair. Moving was tiring with the sudden vial of desire that flooded through his veins. You were at his side in an instant.

“I’m fine,” he lied. “It’s… the heat.”

“Oh! Stone's office is always hot. Here, I'll help you,” No-- he tried to argue. Against his wishes, you slipped his suit jacket off his shoulders and down his muscular arms, loitering a bit too long along his pumped biceps. “Though, I guess it’s all yours now, isn’t it? We all are.”

Miguel has no energy to fight you, lost in the haze that was last night’s forgotten dream. He’d never met you before, that much he was sure. Yet he swore, on all that was scientific and right, that he dreamed of your body on his, emptying him of any worries as he came into the nothingness of his sheets. It wasn’t just pleasure, it was a sea of rapture, and he drowned in it.

“According to your AI, you’re burning up lately.”

How do you know? You walked around his chair, your slender heels clicking over the hardwood floor. His eyes traced the curves of your velvet red pencil dress up to your bust as you leaned in, the back of your hand taking his temperature on his forehead. Your bust had delicate black lace detailing that enhanced your natural beauty. It scorched his ability to be a decent gentleman. Every man had their limits. He’s nearly at his, and you’ve only just arrived.

“You're so warm,” you gasped, but it's strained, a crack through stained glass. “Let me help you.”

You reached for the knot of his tie. That’s enough-- Miguel shoves your hand from his neck. He tugs the charcoal tie away from his throat, drawing it away from his white button-up. You wet your lips, drawing a sheen across your perfectly applied lipstick. You came in here with a plan and purpose to inflame him-- and did just that.

“Careful.”

A pause-- your eyes challenged him, seemed to know how weak he was in resisting the strain of lust that came with your mere presence. He was losing the fight quicker than he’d like. Miguel has to focus. “Your findings on Rapture’s… trial run. Where are they?”

“Destroyed,” you answered curtly.

"Project 2099?"

“Under seal. Oh, don’t look at me like that, hermoso. It wasn’t my choice.”

Hermoso. A flicker of anger shot through him as you reclined on his desk and ran your hands across the rim. You seem to notice the rosary on his desk, eyes lingering on it for more than a few seconds. You dipped so comfortably between propriety and looseness. The distance between your easily accessible skirt and his hardening erection is the entirety of only a few steps. “Stone’s orders, not mine.”

“There are no copies?”

“Why would there be? Stone was always very persistent with what he wanted.”

You? He doesn’t ask.

Something in him doesn’t want to think of it, what his father could have done to you that would make you so willing to stand so close to him. Your gaze faltered. You bore at his groin, his sleek dark slacks straining against his length.

“Now you want to know if I fucked him, que no?”

That's a yes. The way you slip onto his desk, legs slightly apart, tells him all he needs to know. His gaze falters, down then up again, an irrational amount of envy welling low in his belly. He found himself wondering what you’ve done in this very room. You bat your long lashes, far too pretty. He isn't easily dissuaded.

“I've barely met you and you want to know everything about my work and personal life. You’re so greedy. So like him.”

“I am nothing like that man.” At that very moment, his eyes locked with yours. A distant rage filled his belly. No one, he meant no one, compared him with that maniac. His tongue twisted in his mouth, ready to make some sharp remark, but you snatched his words by leaning forward, pressing your lips to his head. Your fingertips combed through his dark hair, a warm comfort. A kiss? His hands felt heavy, weighed down by an impossible weight, one he couldn’t push off no matter how much he strained.

"Hasta luego, Miguel.”

The door closes behind you with a clap. Back in the chair, Miguel was heaving heavy breaths. The restriction on his body loosened up and allowed Miguel to grab the black mirror stashed in a drawer below his desk. Your sticky lipstick left a stain on his forehead, strained with stress lines. He wiped away the red stain of your lipstick and rolled the remnants between his thumb and middle finger.

"Like Stone," he repeated with a hiss. "Mierda."

He wracked his hand around his swollen cock-- panting as he beat himself off, ecstasy claiming that he had to have you. The insatiable need to have -- his father’s whore-- overrode any of the papers on his desk. He came into the cold nothingness that is the air, his hands coated in his own essence. Miguel untucked a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiped himself clean.

“Lyla? Who?” he gasped a breath, “Who is that woman?”

“Beats me,” Lyla thought she was so funny. “She’s not in any electronic records.”

“Really.”

Even if that was the case, Miguel would be damned if Stone got the better of him in death. Miguel cleaned up his hand and whirled open the sexual harassment folder-- he was nothing if not a determined man.

You shouldn’t be here. No, really, you should not be employed here.

He doesn’t know your qualifications because he cannot find them. In the electronic documents, your file is bare bones. The suggestion of your education is non-verifiable but signed off by Stone himself. If it were only him, he might chalk it up to corruption. But there were others-- other dead bodies-- who signed off on your highly amended report on Rapture. The board claimed your employment was not a subject for discussion. Even if he were the face of the company, you were untouchable.

He left his office to the small coffee shop on the third floor. The man who ran it, Peter, was a refreshment from the stress of the day in his own, weird little way. It was probably the high quantity of caffeine that kept him awake.

On the surface, Miguel’s dreams are unoffensive. Light things, like fingers brushing veins that creep along his muscles, soapy breasts dragging along his chest. Using your body like a sponge to clean him after a heavy session at the gym. You are always on your knees, suckling the cum free from his cock with an angelic little flutter of your lashes and those sultry, cat-like eyes. He was in a state of constant arousal with nothing to show for it but a consistently swollen dick. At his age, he considers it a feat.

“You’re so sexy, Peter.”

There it was again. Your giggle over top of the sound of the hiss of a coffee machine. Peter was laughing, shy, or uncomfortable, he couldn’t quite tell. Miguel slips off his wire sunglasses, looking along the bar for the source.

“Hey, Miguel!”

He paced around the corner, then back. There are a few work couples and colleagues speaking with one another. Their tables are fresh with coffee and tea, tiny wrapped sandwiches a poor lunch. You’re conspicuously absent. The lack of sleep was fucking with his head, it had to be. He settled the glasses into the lining of his suit pocket and withdrew his wallet.

“Miguel! You'll never guess who came by. Uh, the usual?” Peter bounced over, leaning over the cash register with a glitter in his eye. He was more upbeat than even usual. Some girl must have made his day, he decided. Sí, he rumbled. Miguel dipped his fingers into his wallet to pull out his card only to be stopped short of the action.

“Nope,” Peter pushed Miguel’s hand away. “Someone paid for you.”

“For me?” Miguel settled the card in its proper slot. “Who?”

“You know,” Peter whispers. "The bruja."

“She was here?” he repeated, following Peter across the side of the bar as he began to make his coffee. Peter is an airhead, a wonderful airhead. Some part of him is infectious on days when he’s not being stalked by a woman with no traceable name. It was as if you were wiped clean. “When?”

“About two hours ago? She said you looked spooked and left me some money for your coffee. I think she likes you.”

You were doing more than liking him.

“And why would you think that?” Miguel pulled out a chair at the bar, humoring the scrawnier man. Peter frothed some milk, a fluffy cloud of relaxation on top of his usual coffee dusted with cinnamon and nutmeg. Miguel takes the mug from Peter, wrinkling his nose at the addition of nutmeg.

“Well, she turned down some dude from marketing,” Peter mentions. “I've been here for a while and-- she rarely turns anyone down.”

You rarely turn anyone down?

It bothered him long after he finished the coffee. You’re so sexy, Peter. You weren’t there. Peter told him that you’d been gone for two hours. He should not have heard the wisps of your caramelized voice in the coffee shop.

It’s the exhaustion, Miguel convinced himself. He just needs the weekend, to rest.

By Saturday night, he hit his last nerve.

Restful sleep would not come. He lay in his large, empty king-sized bed after searching through files for another project that had no other name but 2099 for the entirety of ten long hours. Any information-- redacted-- but your name slapped over the top and bottom of countless documents was like a great, big fuck-you O'Hara. The more he read about you, the angrier he became. You enraged him, but he was positively enthralled with your presence.

He lay in bed listening to should-be soothing jazz that now grated his ear. Night after night, his torment never failed. When he finally found an instance of peace, his muscles locked up. Not quite awake, but not quite asleep. Heavy pressure overtook his chest and arms forced him to remain still. The world fazed in and out, doom on beating alarm bells in the back of his mind. Then he felt it, the phantom pressure on his neck that slid over his tawny skin, from his belly to the dark happy trail that dipped below his silky pants.

Miguel gritted his teeth and ripped himself from his trance. When his eyes popped apart, he was greeted by his shock. Hunger flowed through him in warm waves, piercing underneath his skin. Miguel’s fingers twinged, your phantom figure on top of him. It looked like you, but misty, as though an illusion. In the darkness, he can only make out the shadows that bounce off what little light is in the room.

“Motherfucker--”

Though he said that, your teasing fingers freed him from his cozy pants, ripping them around his hirsute thighs. His length lulls against his body, a shameful drool of cum gathered at his cock. A night of phantom touches has done him in. Miguel lurched back onto his flat pillows when he was abruptly shoved down by an outrageous amount of force. With his arms thrown up by his head-- he whimpered, frustrated with tonight's-- dream, delusion, dare he say-- reality. His joints were locked by invincible chains that forced him to stay in place. The more he fought, the hotter his need became for what came next. His body was pitifully trained.

He wasn’t certain that it was you-- but it smelled so deeply of your perfume, rich and cherry, flooding his nostrils. So familiar. He glanced down at the opaque figure, grinding over his hard cock. A pair of hands crashed onto his shoulder, claws curling into his broad shoulders. Blood seeped forth. A growl gathered in his chest, ripping up when something warm and tight sunk down on his bobbing dick. Miguel gritted his teeth: it had been a long time since he’d been with anyone. Not for a lack of viable partners, but his annoyance with them all.

Despite his immense muscle, he was too weak to do anything about it. Even if he could, what would he do? Throw off the sex-crazed hallucination on his dick? You rolled your hips over him, suckling him right back up. Hypnotized by the smoky illusion, Miguel gazed on begrudgingly, grunting as you rolled over him, his dick straining your insides. He was a toy, nothing more and nothing less, used for his fat cock that split your airy body apart. His hips jerked, frustrated as he found he could go no deeper. You punished him by dragging your claws over his swarthy shoulders, over his collarbones. Blood ripped free, sliding down his deltoids.

“Chingado,” Miguel’s lips parted for the word, hips juddering up like a hungry slut. It wasn’t normal, the warm tickle of your lubricant over his shaft, exquisite in its nature. His heels dug into the bed, balls tightened. He was so damn close to his relief, he could taste it on his tongue, bordering somewhere between immense pleasure and decadent pain. Your need for his pain won out, dipping down over his chest and latching your fangs over his chest-- then up, hooking on the front of his throat. It was going to bruise, badly.

You shook loose his orgasm, ripped free with the need to fill you, own you-- as though he were not the one being owned. His hips staggered, sticky whips of cum coating your walls in waves. More than he’d cum before before. His eyes shut hard, tears pricking the sides of his eyes. Then, as if it never happened, the hold on his hands was released. He struggled with his freedom, his hands slack, softening cock worthlessly weeping over his thigh. The pain-- oh, the pain, it washed over him moments later.

“Woah,” Lyla interrupted, “Miguel! What happened?”

She couldn’t see you. His eyes were like two dark coins, staring up at the ceiling, wide, and unseeing. He can hear her frantic questions, the ligature marks left behind from invincible chains, and the all-too-real blood and bruising that left him utterly ruined.

“It,” he choked out, heat biting at his well-chiseled face. “It hurts.”

He doesn’t remember what comes next. It was five in the morning when he finally rolled out of bed, and onto the floor, gripping the growing headache that grew miserably behind his head. Bitterness bubbled in his stomach, exhaustion in his eyes. The aberration that was his poor sleep was irksome more than anything. He felt someone’s eyes on him, soft and worried, rushing to his aid as though he were an old man who fell off a bed.

“Hey, you’re awake,” Peter said with an undercurrent of concern soaring through his words. “No, wait. I got you.”

He helped him sit against the frame of his bed, a frame that looks small as shit with Miguel’s large body against the frame. He’s unsure of what to say, assuming that Lyla called him in desperation, and let him into the house that Peter most definitely did not have a key to. Miguel’s chest ached. “What happened? Are you… are you okay?”

Everyone seems to ask him that lately.

“I’m fine,” he was alien to the feeling of care. He knew when Miguel dug himself into a hole. Miguel didn’t want to think about what happened only a few hours prior when his exhaustion took over his body and knocked him out. He dreamed of nothing. An abyss of unsettled nothingness, the ache low in his belly to fuck you until you were soaked in his cum and Miguel could finally, finally rest his tired eyes. Miguel pulled on a fluffy white robe Peter supplied, dragging it over thick strips of gauze and medical tape.

“You don't look fine.”

They both know he’s lying, but what else could be said? That the state Peter saved Miguel from was a rarity? That he’s used to being preyed upon by his own delusions? He needs a fuck, maybe that’s it.

“If you’re going to stay, be useful and get me that file.”

“Oh-- okay, this one?” he doesn’t look surprised. He padded across his room to his desk, kicked a chair that was falling apart aside, and picked up the folder on Brujería. It was buried behind more useful folders such as sexual harassment and inter-employee workplace violence. A fact that Miguel wasn’t exactly proud about in the first place.

“Brujería? Like witch stuff, right? No way. You think work is haunted too?” Peter says with a choked-out, nearly forced laugh. Miguel doesn’t pay himself enough for this. Of all the files at hand, it was nearly untouched. It included such things as ancestors, spirits, demons, and curses.

“I don’t. But the workers obviously do.”

Peter was soft and kind, but not stupid. He plopped down next to him and crossed his legs one over the other.

“The ones that say she’s a bruja?” Peter tapped on your photo. Your photo offers emptiness. That though you have a bright smile in the photo, it is undoubtedly fake. He never saw a woman look so innocent and sweet, but dangerous.

“You’ve heard?”

“Well, the men she hangs around always end up dead. They get all successful and rich then, bam, dead. But you can’t believe that right?” Peter reasons. “She’s not cursed, she just has bad luck. She’s always been nice to me.”

“A curse?”

“Yeah,” his warm breath wavers into a sigh. “Stone wanted company, found her in Sacred Heart-- you know, the one they say is cursed?”

“A cursed church? Give me a break. The only curse at Sacred Heart are the exploitive priests.”

“I’m just saying what I heard,” he’s whispering, shivers wracking up his arms at the mere mention. He tries not to push him anymore. Peter stood up and walked to the coffee stand in the corner of his dark room. For the days that he couldn’t be bothered to leave his room, he’d make a hot coffee in the corner and keep working just as he always did. “She’s always been nice to me.”

“Maybe you’re not her taste.”

“Yeah well, probably not. I don't look like you-- but she did call me sexy, so that's something right?” Peter laughed, “Want a cup of coffee?”

Sexy. That's it, he's so fucking sick of this shit.

“No, I don’t want a cup of fucking coffee,” Miguel bit back, shoving the bed several inches as he pushed his hand off of it, storming into his walk-in closet. “Lyla. When is mass at Sacred Heart?”

“Sacred Heart?” Lyla laughed. “You’re kidding--”

“Lyla,” he snarled, chucking his bag across the closet. It connected with his tall, black safe with a loud boom. She was quiet for a moment, undoubtedly momentary confusion for why non-believer Miguel O’Hara wanted to go to, of all things, a Catholic mass.

“6:30,” she answers.

“I’ll go with you,” Peter calls out.

Don’t bother, Miguel returns from the next room.

It’s been a long time since he dressed for mass-- some dark brown slacks and a warm, vanilla button-up. He snaps a chain necklace around his thick, bruised throat and his favorite watch. As he grabbed the manilla folder on brujería he felt like a child, lectured by his grandmother to not be like his bad man-loving, alcoholic mother and go to church. Despite very much not believing in any of this shit, it was frustrating, annoying even, that he had to go back there.

He didn’t want to go but his spirit was unsettled. Something told him that going to his grandmother’s favorite church would give him a sense of illumination, that it would make sense of the things that made no sense.

Sacred Heart stands on a hill, both physically and metaphorically. It takes offerings off the backs of the poor and sits atop a lush hill. Its stained-grey architecture is only beautiful by virtue of its stained-glass murals. He doesn’t care for the saints that loom overhead, unseeing eyes judgemental and cold. Viejitos and the truly devout are the only ones in attendance. Based on Peter’s account, he should expect you there. It doesn't take long to be proven right.

“Bendición.”

Is he hallucinating again? Despite the many rows of unspoken burgundy benches, you sit by him. Miguel is disconcerted as you slide your thick hips by, sandwiching him between the side of the bench and your chunky, beautiful thighs. He worked his words in his mouth for entirely too long.

“Dios te bendiga,” he said, the words chalky and thick in his throat, drawn up from the bottomless abyss of his fluttery stomach. You sat with a black lace veil pinned to your head. The only sort of women who wear a veil are very old or not Catholic at all. He veers on the latter. “You’re Catholic?”

“If you want me to be.”

“Why else would you be here?” he reached over and plucked up a cheap bible from a pouch behind the bench before him. Your eyes follow pupils dilating in a way that isn’t human at all, staring at the many words on the page that spun under his thumb.

“I think you know why,” you said with soft and pliable words. He felt himself melting.

Of course, Miguel thought, you always seem to show up during the most inopportune times.

"You didn't bring a bible," he offers it to you. Your eyes, dilate wide and bright at the sight of the thing, flicker a look down to it, then Miguel again.

"I prefer to listen." You turn away from it. He flipped it in his hand before returning it to its rightful pouch. For some reason, you did not want to be close to the book. He thinks he knows why.

“So you are stalking me.”

"Stalking is such a mean word, Miggy. Haunting, I like haunting better." Miguel throws open the report. He doesn’t want to read it-- but it is the last folder that may hold the information he needs. Your eyes fluttered to the footsteps of others filling their spot, an archaic song on the lips of the practitioners. Wrong page, Miguel.

"What was that?" he asked you.

"Nada."

He looked down to his lap where the report sat. The voices of those present, their lips forming an off-tuned song, itched at his already exhausted mind. The more he fought, the worse it became. You flipped open a black fan and cooled yourself with long flicks of your wrist. He doesn’t think it’s so hot.

“The rosary on your desk is from here, isn’t it?”

How would you know?

“You’re hiding something.”

Page 76. His fingers thumb on the pages on their own accord. Your eyes traced the movement, looking down at the pages before him. On deaths of company men.

I just do.

The thought entered his mind without prompting. He scanned names on the page. Aaron Delgado… asphyxiation. Tyler Stone… myocardial infarction. There were photos pinned there, photos that shouldn’t be so graphic, but somehow are. The men are as naked as the day they came into the world.

“If you say so, Miggy.”

“What are you hiding?”

You brought your hand over the file, closing it shut on top of his hand. He turns his hands over the top. Your fingers run over his knuckles, in misleading circles. “Are you sure you want the truth?”

“I don’t hide from the truth.”

“The truth,” you leaned in, your words husky against his ear. “The truth is I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m a good girl, Miggy. You have to believe me.”

Something about the way you spoke enraged him, prickling him enough to force him to stand in the middle of the priest’s words. He snatched your wrist with his thick hand, gripping you enough to leave pepper bruises across your skin. Your heels clicked after his boots, out through the foyer, past the bath of holy water, and down the discolored steps.

“Miguel?” you sang like a siren.

He’s hit his limit, throwing you against the discolored church wall. A gasp punched out of your lungs, aggravated by Miguel’s large hand strangling the breath from your throat. He felt warm as he kicked your legs apart and took up that space. The heat doesn’t feel like it is his. His bulge against your skirt certainly is. Now, he seems to expect pleasure when he is in your presence.

“You want me to fuck you, sí? That’s why you’re tormenting me every fucking night.”

“I thought you liked cumming,” you relinquished with a harsh giggle. It grates his last nerve. “You finally look relaxed when you do.”

“Qué mala eres,” Miguel snatched the bottom of your skirt, ripping it up the slit to expose your warm skin. He found no panties there, just smooth skin. He cupped your sex for emphasis. “No panties in church. You're filthy.”

“¿Y qué? You’re proving why I didn’t need them.”

He stared, lingering for a moment, challenging your insistence on control. Since he took over this god-forbidden company, you had been defying him with your devilish smile. Miguel slapped your cunt, eliciting a groan that was half of the pain that he’d had only a few hours ago. You liked it, scratching lines up his arms to his broad shoulders.

“You’re so big,” you balanced his abuse with your overwhelming worship. “So big and pretty.”

“Shut up,” he bit out and slipped his middle finger inside of you, unconcerned for your pleasure. Your muscles tightened around his finger, drawing him deeper. He slides another beside it, his hand leaving your cunt to slap your jaw, forcing you to keep focus. Your tender flesh is hot and red, a wonderful tenderness radiating throughout your jaw.

“And you're dripping, do you have no shame?” He grips your chin to look at your face. Raw defiance was slapped across your face. You rolled your hips onto his hand, forcing him to caress your walls in the right spot. He perked his brow, listening to the priest lecturing in the background. Your sweetness drooled over his curled wrist, dripping from his squelching fingers.

“For you,” you whined. “I want your dick. Give it--”

“You’re a brat.”

He said that-- but he was amused. Miguel slipped down onto his knees, knocking your legs rudely apart. His mouth encircled your puffy clit, bringing it into his mouth and suckling it fat. His rhythm was quick, making a point that he could make you cum too. You weren’t debating him, your hands tight in his hair, loud little moans beating free from your lips. His tongue was warm and soft, kissing and nipping.

The priest went quiet.

“You’re being too loud. Do you want them to hear us?” Miguel’s brow furrowed, slipping up from your vulva.

"Why is that my problem?" You whined in distaste after he stopped pleasuring you, your pulsing cunt beating like an open wound. Asshole.

"You could care for someone other than yourself." Miguel tilted his head, turning you to face the wall. He pulled himself free of his pants-- his thick cock fat against the curve of your ass. That’s what you wanted, he decided, gauging by your whine that came with his action.

"How does that get me what I want?" You shook your ass at him, waiting for him to rear back.

“This is what you wanted, hm? Fine, have it. Just shut up."

He leaned over you, your scratchy black veil catching along his stubble. He doesn’t wait for a response, pushing inside. He wasn’t just thick, he was long. But he knew you already knew that-- you knew every curve of his body, loved the thick veins on his cock that filled you so well. You scratched at the wall as he crushed you into the wall, his hips stuttering with your walls tightening him, drawing him further, impossibly deep.

Estúpida, he thought-- and knew you’d hear it. Whatever you were, you weren’t human. You were somewhere between a human and desire itself, evident in the way you looked at him, pleasured by his rutting hips against the church. The priest went back to his lecture-- the churchgoers enraptured in their worship. The only thing Miguel was enraptured with was the way your pussy tingled, the fluid soaking his cock, and the stretch in your lower belly. His hand clasped over your mouth, index finger poking into your mouth. Your tongue drew him in, fangs nipping his finger.

It earned you a hard slam, stuffing you full, your strange body catching his thrusts beautifully. He slipped his hand over your soft cunt, working your clit for your orgasm, though you deserved no such thing. Habit, he supposed. Gloria a Dios-- the churchgoers clammed with one another. Nearly out of time, your pleasure won out, gushing over his fat cock. Miguel suckled a breath, his ego demanding him to hold out, batter your sweet cunt through your orgasm.

“I’m hungry-- Give it to me,” you bit on his finger, breaking the skin and urging blood to flow into his mouth. Your body twitched violently around his cock, drawing bright pleasure forth. “Give me your cum.”

"Stay out of my dreams."

"I don't want to," you reared your head back at him, your nose tight with wrinkles. He drew you fully onto his dick, the final thrusts were sloppy and immature-- but he held out, making you angrier by the second.

"I'll cum on the floor right here, I don't give a shit."

"No, no! Fine! I promise-- I'll let you sleep," the threat of going hungry is enough that you concede, punching your fist against the wall. He grunts in response and feeds your body with whips of cum that felt far heavier than his usual. A pleasure, far sweeter than any orgasm he could give you. Miguel soaked your sweet little body with his sticky cum, chest swelling heavily against your little back. He finishes and pulls himself free. To his surprise, your cunt doesn’t leak. Miguel staggers back with a perk in his eyebrow.

You look far better for wear than he does, clumsily zipping himself back into cum stained slacks, running his hand through his sweat-soaked hair. You recline on the wall, inspecting him. He knows how he looks. He's bruised, long gashes down his chest, and properly fucked-- a mess. The manila envelope sits forgotten by your heels, your skirt-- perfect, as though he never tore it in the first place.

“You’re not human.”

Miguel bends down, picking up the folder. Not like he needs it anymore. He does, however, need that information on Project 2099. I can help you, he hears. He catches your wide, toothy smile. You've grown fangs. He isn’t surprised.

“Not even a little.”

[watermelonlovershigh]

Valentines Day Surprise (SMUT)

AN: this is an AU world so keep that in mind when reading this. also sorry this is a few days late from actual valentines. it took so long to write and i work alot so it took a while to complete. hope you don't mind. enjoyyyyy!!!

This story contains: tons of fluff, fingering in a bathtub, soft sex in bed, then more fluff

{ dadrry - husband!harry - softrry - three kids }

word count- 2,796

After a long shift at the hospital, you come home thinking you were going to get into the shower and be off to sleep, but your husband Harry has a surprise for you beings its Valentines Day.

Harry is a stay-at-home dad while you work at your local hospital. Some people look at your family dynamic and dislike the way you do things, but for you and Harry it works out great. Harry loves to stay home each day and take care of the kids and you usually love your job as a nurse at the hospital. Key word, usually.

Like today for instance. Today is Valentine's Day and you knew you had to unfortunately work but until eleven at night, that's what you didn't know. Around five in the afternoon you called Harry and told him you'd be getting home late tonight and he was so understanding. He knows that your hours at the hospital can change quickly due to short staffing problems.

When you finally got off work and settled in your car, the only thing on your mind was a hot shower and getting into bed with your husband for sleep. You were exhausted from working a twelve hour shift. Your feet hurt and your back ached. You wish instead of working today you had got to spend a romantic night with Harry because it's Valentines Day, but maybe next year you'll get the holiday off.

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

After what felt like forever, you eventually make it to your house. You expect to walk into a dark house because everyone should be sleeping, with maybe a covered plate of food on the counter from the dinner Harry cooked for him and the kids earlier, but as you step in the front door you realize you have a surprise waiting on you.

You look over to the left where the kitchen is at and see your little breakfast nook decorated with a red table cloth, a candle in the center of the table, two glasses of wine, and two plates of hot food. You're confused at first but then see your husband round the corner with a happy smile on his face. "Hello m'love," Harry walks over for a hug to greet you, "you're finally home. Made you dinner."

Retracting from the hug, you mutter confusedly, "Har.... Harry what is all this? It's almost midnight. Thought you'd be asleep."

"Baby, it's Valentine's Day. You didn't think I wouldn't treat m'wife on such occasions did you?" Harry coos back with love clearly in his demeanor. And wow do you love him back. He's probably so tired from chasing your three to eight year olds around the house all day. Not to mention the cleaning he had to do around the house and the cooking, baths, and bedtimes. But Harry still choose to stay up until you got home from work to make the last hour of Valentine's Day special for you.

Harry leads you over to the table set up and pulls your chair out for you. "Babe, let me change first. I stink of hospital." you argue but he isn't having any of that.

"Nonsense, you can change and bath after we eat. You smell and look fine." he replies and you decide not to push the argument further. Though you are exhausted and want out of your dirty scrubs asap, you're very much appreciative of this little dinner set up that he worked so hard on.

The next twenty minutes or so is filled with eating the lovely meal Harry prepared for you, laughter, and small touches of affection. As well as Harry gushing about the promise of making every Valentines special for you for the rest of your lives. And once you were finished, Harry blew out the candle that sat on the table and placed your plates in the dishwasher for the night. You were about to head up the stairs to begin getting ready for bed when Harry stopped you.

"Wait a minute," he quietly calls out, "I've got you another surprise. Follow after me." Amazed at all the dedication Harry put into tonight, you follow after him up the stairs and into your bedroom. The bedroom looks pretty much how it always does except very clean with the bed covers neatly folded back. You're about to question where the next surprise was when he leads you into the ensuite bathroom located inside your bedroom.

When you enter, you see something that nearly brings tears to your eyes. "Harry," you whisper aloud, "you didn't have to do all this. Wow, oh my God!" You look around the bathroom that's dimly light and see a bathtub filled with warm water and bubbles.

Harry steps forward and wraps his arms around your body from behind. Then while laying his head on your shoulder and placing a kiss to the side of your neck, he responds, "Course I did. Love you lots and wanted to treat you after your long day at work. Plus, once again, it's Valentine's Day. Gotta take care of m'wife on such days."

Before the water gets any cooler, Harry graciously begins to help you strip from your hospital scrubs before removing his own clothes as well. Once you're both naked, he leads you over to the tub and gets in first so that he can help you settle in front of him. You lean against his tattooed body and sigh out in relief at how relaxing this feels on your sore muscles.

To add to your relaxation, Harry reaches up and starts to massage your neck and shoulders. You almost let a moan slip out from how great his touch feels. You start collecting your hair in your hands and twist it into a bun on the top of you head, securing it with a hair tie you had on your wrist. "This is nice." you tell your caring husband behind you.

He leans in to peck a gentle kiss behind your ear and whispers, "Hmm, glad you like my Valentines surprise." His low speaking sends chills down your spine. Right after your little shiver, you begin feeling Harry's hands migrate down from your shoulders and to your chest. He first gages your reaction and when he sees no resistance on your face, Harry takes his pink nailed fingers and ghosts them over your sensitive nipples.

"Fuck!" you quietly moan out, not wanting your kids to awake. You toss your head back onto your husbands shoulder and allow him to roam your body as he pleases. As Harry stimulates your nipples under the water, he realizes you're clenching your thighs together and he can't be having you do all that. So while one hand stays on your breast, his other hand slides down your belly eventually makes it down to your thigh.

He gives your thigh a gentle tap and you know he's silently instructing you to open your legs. So you lift your legs up so your feet are pressed flat to the tub floor and spread your legs open for him. With now having enough room, Harry drops his hand to between your legs and the real pleasure begins.

His soft ringless fingers roam your prickly pussy, from having trimmed your pubic hair about a week ago, and you gasp when you feel him prode your hole. Harry swirls the tip of his index finger at your entrance and moans himself when he feels how slick you are, even under the water. "You're so fuckin' wet, love. All because of me?"

You nod your head against Harry's shoulder blade and cry out when his slick fingers are brought up to toy with your swelling clit. He starts to rub your clit from under the sudsy bath water and you nearly melt straight through his body with how good you feel. You rarely get time to yourselves anymore. With you working long hours and having kids that need attention, you're usually limited to quickies and sleepy fucks late at night or early in the mornings from under the covers.

Though you aren't complaining about how you usually have sex or get sexual with one another, Harry taking his time with you right now is fantastic. He edges you when he stops the simulation to your clit but soon is sliding his middle finger inside your hole. His fingers are thick and long and feel great inside your tight pussy. "Ah, oh fuck." you moan.

When his finger is fully inside, Harry turns it around and curls it up before asking, "Yeah, am I makin' you feel good? Treatin' your pussy right on Valentines Day."

Through heavy breaths and closed eyes, you mutter, "Yes, so good." Harry decides one isn't enough and pushes his ring finger inside you too. The stretch is even more then before and when his fingers start fucking in and out of you a bit faster, your body starts to tremble and shake. Then right when you feel on the cusp of your orgasm, you start grinding your clit into the palm of Harry's hand and that's what pushes you over the edge.

He can feel your walls contracting around his fingers and to hold you as still as possible, he loops his other hand right under your boobs to keep you secure against his body. Harry fingers you through your orgasm until you jump away from his touch because you're overly sensitive. He slowly pulls his fingers out of your pussy and coos words of endearment in your ear to help bring you back to earth.

After a few minutes, you notice the hard lump pressed into your lower back and realize Harry is painfully hard right now. You turn your body around slightly in the water and say, "Want me to ride you? Help with your, you know, hard problem."

Harry giggles and answers, "Not in here, baby. Let's get you washed up and if you're still in the mood we can shag in bed where it's more comfy, m'kay." You nod an okay and the actual bath begins.

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

After Harry helped wash your hair and body, he got you both out the tub and dried off. Then once you brushed your teeth, the two of you finally crawled into the nicely made bed and the love making begins. If you both weren't so tired and had the house to yourselves you would have made the sex more special with some toys and loud, passionate moans. But just some simple missionary will do for tonight.

Once under the covers, Harry rolls on top of you and questions, "Are you still wet enough or do we need lube?"

With a sleepy smile, you retort, "Why don't you find out." And that Harry does. He dips his hand between your naked bodies and feels around your sensitive pussy, coming to the conclusion you are in fact still wet from the fingering that took place in the bathtub.

"Shit, love that you're still wet f'me. Pussy's begging for m'cock, huh?" Harry whispers and starts to position his tip at your entrance. No matter how many times you've had sex, you still can't get over how it feels when he first slides in.

"Ugh, mhm!" you whine while nodding your head and grasping at his back. After he's filled you up all the way, Harry settles his body flushed to yours to feel closer to you. Plus his muscles aren't that strong this late in the night. "Move, baby. You can move." you encourage and he listens.

Harry pulls his hips back with his knees bent and pressing into the mattress, then slowly pushes them forward again, meeting your hips as they collide. With his arms around your head, he lifts his head up so its hovering over your face. He looks down and admires your beautiful blissed out face. Harry leans down and presses his lips to yours. You catch on quickly and join in on the kiss.

The kiss is very heated the longer it continues and it's mostly filled with panting breaths. Your bodies are getting sticky from sweat and it's making it harder to rock your bodies together as smoothly as you started out but it still feels great. Eventually fatigue begins setting in Harry's muscles and he's dying for you to come so he can come. So he pulls his mouth away from yours and questions, "Are you close, love? Need you to come."

Trying to keep your moans as quiet as possible, you look up at his straining face and answer, "Ye...yeah. S...so close." Knowing what will pull the trigger on your orgasm, Harry slides his hand down between your bodies and starts to rub over your sensitive clit for you. You immediately start clenching around his cock.

As your hands claw at his muscular back, you heave, "Oh God, I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming." Harry focuses on his thrusting to make sure he's hitting just the right spot for you and his fingers continue to stimulate your clitoris. Your orgasm washes over you so deeply that you swear you black out for a few seconds.

Your mind has gone blank and all you can feel is Harry's touch and your muscles intensely contracting with your release. But eventually it starts to fade and you can feel Harry coming inside of you. His face drops to your shoulder blade and he lets out deep grunts while trembling over your body. You rub up and down his back to sooth him. Then the room becomes silent besides the sounds of heavy breathing.

Neither one of you want to move a muscle from the activities that just took place but you want to get some sleep and know you can't risk getting a UTI. You tap on Harry's shoulder and ask quietly, "Can you carry me to the toilet? Need to pee your cum out."

Harry sits up, remaining inside you still, and coos, "But what if I wanted to stay in you all night? Keep my cock and cum nice and warm in there."

"You know we can't. I don't want an infection. Now hurry before I wet your dick and the bed with my piss." You know Harry was just joking about staying inside you all night because he takes aftercare very seriously. Reluctantly, he slowly pulls out of your tight hole and shuffles off the bed. He then reaches over to lift your body up and carries you bridal style to the bathroom.

Harry sets you on the toilet and walks out of the bathroom to allow you some privacy. He goes over to your dresser and grabs him and yourself fresh underwear and you an old t-shirt to sleep in. Before he can return to you, he sees you wobbling out the bathroom door very naked still and rushes over towards you. "Baby, I would have carried you back to the bed. Don't want you fallin' over with how shaky your legs are." Fuck, how did you get so lucky with the perfect husband.

"I know and thank you. You're too sweet to me." you reply and sit down in the edge of the bed. Harry comes up to you and helps dress you in the clean panties and shirt. He hasn't put his underwear on yet so his soft penis is right in front of you and you smile.

"What?" Harry asks with a sleepy smile plastered on his face. "What's got you all smiley?"

Looking up, you explain with a tired drawl in your voice, "Just, just remembering back to when we first started dating and you were so embarrassed the first time I caught glimpse of your dick soft. Said something like it looks all small (though not small even when soft) and wrinkly when it's not hard. And now you don't give a fuck. Letting it swing around limply between your legs."

Harry lets out a quiet laugh before speaking, "Yeah, well we are married now. Been married for years. And we have kids together. Not much I am embarrassed for you to see. You've seen me cry, you've seen me be violently sick, and you've seen my entire body inside and out."

While Harry finally pulls up his own briefs, you mutter as you turn to get into bed straight, "It's called unconditional love, babe. You know I'd never judge you and that I love you no matter what. Love all of you, even your soft wrinkly dick."

Harry moves around the bed after he's dressed and turns off the lamp before sliding under the duvet with you. Instead of waiting for you to come to him, he shuffles over to your body and rests his head on your chest. You love when Harry gets like this. All soft and cuddly. He lets out a yawn before whispering, "Love you unconditionally, too. You're my forever Valentine."

Right before drifting off to sleep, you whisper back, "And you're my forever Valentines, too."

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

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______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ Error 404! Lovesick<3 — Gojo Satoru

Warnings: mentions of blood, death idk, fluff

A/n: divider cred— @/heavenlydevine

Satoru typically yearns for you and every single touch. In some sense to say, he’s touch starved maybe— in all others, he’s absolutely in love with you. With every morning kiss, every good night whisper, every breakfast he’d burnt for you, every fate he’d saved his money for—all and none, he felt sick at his heart.

-

You swallowed hard, the wounds were deep.

“Sorry,” he muttered—the smile bashful, you simply stared, beyond pissed.

Not a single word escaped you as you cleaned everything, every single wound—heart aching with each of his whimpers and whines.

“He did a great job, for reference,” your eyes panned onto the underclassman in the corner, a guilty smile of his own—as if any of this was amusing.

Maybe your anger was, to them.

A vexed look you passed onto him, a certain fear of both the men incensed the air.

An attempt was all it was, Kento knew of those angry glances and cowered winces when you tended to Satoru, so simply, small attempts he made as a mutual friend—as his supposed ‘Wingman’ that Satoru had deemed him, to save him from the worse part of a mission going bad.

“I did,” Satoru beamed, “the technique Suguru and I were-” words cut short, too short, he looked down- embarrassed.

“Y/n,” Kento’s voice reached you quick, a small smile playing on his lips, “Don’t be too hard on him, at least today,”

A severed nod from you, Satoru but his lips, wincing from the cut upon it.

“Babe, listen I didn’t even-”

“-shut up,” you snapped, eyes boring into his—he loved the way you embraced each other, he always did love these moments.

He knew how it racked your heart, his body covered half in blood, he wasn’t even usually sure if it was his or not—he knew just the way you trembled when you dealt with him, he knew the way you wanted to slap him silly when he hugged you despite your clean clothes—but he knew that he loved you, and for you, he’d do it all the time, over and over.

A thick finger caressed your cheek, the tear rolling down your face wiped away, “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You have so many cuts,” you mused, “so many injuries Satoru, why? Why do you even bother?”

“For you, always,”

You bit back your words, all so harsh, for a boy as sweet as him, often you felt deceiving, as if you didn’t deserve him.

“I’m sorry angel I just,” a sharp inhale, “I’m sorry, I just love you so much and I can’t…it’s like, my duty to protect you right?”

A sharp exhale, yours.

“Satoru Gojo,” a smile finally adorned your lips, never one to be able to resist, especially when he’d remind you of his love, “you’re an idiot—you’re simply alive because Nanami tries to protect you in missions and here,”

“Your idiot though,”

And right outside, he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Kento loved every bit of your conversation with his senior, every bit of you and him.

All of this work is entirely original and my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!

[archiveikemen]

Ellis Twilight Main Story: Chapter 0

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Ellis: That’s all Jude told me to report.

Victor: Thank you, you’ve done well for this mission. … Looks like things got rather rough tonight.

Ellis: Huh? Oh…

I looked down at my bloodied shirt and understood the reason for Victor’s wry smile.

Tonight’s mission indeed took longer to complete than expected.

Ellis: I was aiming for the heart, but their flesh was thicker than I thought, so my knife didn't go very deep.

Ellis: I felt sorry for them because I couldn’t make them die an instant death.

Victor: And as always, you continued with your mission calmly, but… have you ever had a hard time completing missions?

(Have I…)

The members of “Crown”, the imperial organisation under direct command of Her Majesty the Queen, took missions ranging from gathering information to assassinations.

Not long after I joined them, did I realise that some of us weren't entirely indifferent to taking the lives of others.

If anything, I thought it was normal to feel that way.

(But…)

Ellis: Not particularly.

Victor: … That’s great then. Could you also convey my thanks to Jude on my behalf?

Ellis: Mm, got it.

…

Picking flowers, putting them together in a bouquet, and displaying them in a shop.

Polishing dirty shoes with cream and a brush.

To me, my job being to kill people felt no different from those regular jobs.

As long as it didn't involve my personal desires, I never hesitated to kill.

(If ever I hesitate to kill someone—)

(It’ll definitely be because I want to kill them.)

(It'll be when I harbour such selfish thoughts.)

In order to avoid that — I put a tightly sealed lid over my desires.

Never again… will I turn the happiness of someone I love into a fake.

…

Little Boy: Waaahh…!

Ellis: …!

No matter how bloody the night got, it would always be followed by a bright morning.

While I was at the market on some business for the Jude and the company, I came across a little boy bawling his eyes out.

(He doesn't seem to be injured… is he lost?)

I was about to approach him, when a postwoman nearby quickly crouched down next to the crying boy and comforted him.

Her gentle demeanour seemed to help him calm down a little.

(... That's good. In that case, I shall—)

I looked around the area…

(Ah, over there.)

I spotted the person I was looking for. My relatively tall height gave me an advantage in crowds.

Ellis: By any chance, are you looking for a lost child?

Teary-Eyed Woman: Y-Yes, do you know where he is…!?

I pointed in the direction of the little boy, and the woman immediately ran towards him.

I watched as the facial expressions of the postwoman, little boy, and the woman who seemed to be his mother brightened up.

(... I’m glad.)

If possible, I want everyone I meet to be happy.

I don’t want anyone to be unhappy.

If there’s anything I can do to make them happy, I will.

(Because… happiness is easily broken.)

(It doesn’t matter how wonderful the person is, or how much they hope for an ordinary day.)

…

Happiness, like the twilight sky, was transient.

(... See?)

It was a typical night where we were on a mission as usual, and Crown had just taken the life of our target.

Then came the sound of a woman’s happiness shattering.

William: Now look who we have here, aren't you the little robin I met earlier today?

Kate: Um… uhh… eeh…?

The lady was trembling with blood splattered on her pale face.

She was likely that postwoman I saw in town earlier in the day.

(... Poor lady.)

My heart ached when I recalled the happy smile on her face when that mother found her lost son.

The things we did as Crown were top secret.

This darkness should never be made known to people who live in the sun.

If they ever find out about it — there would be no going back to their original lives.

(That’s why, at the very least…)

…

Ellis: Do we kill her?

Ellis: She doesn’t look happy at all, but I’ll do it if it’s for work.

(At the very least, she’ll be freed from suffering if I kill her.)

The room went silent.

The postwoman who introduced herself as Kate trembled pitifully.

Victor: Hmm. Let me think…

(Once he decides to kill Kate, I’ll make it quick for her.)

(That way, she won’t have to suffer from the fear and anxiety any longer.)

While awaiting Victor’s response, I reached for my knife, and at that moment—

Kate: I swear that I will NEVER breathe a word about ANYTHING I just heard!

Kate declared with an assertive voice.

Victor: Hmm… huh? What?

Kate: I will keep all that information strictly confidential. I work as a postwoman, I’m professionally trained to keep secrets!

(...)

Victor • William: …

(Victor and Will seem surprised.)

I was surprised by her response as well, and I found myself unable to take my eyes off her.

Even though Kate was in a potentially life-threatening situation, she didn’t seem to have given up on wanting to live.

Kate: If you don’t trust me, you can go ahead and keep a close eye on me until you do.

Kate: I’ll prove to you through my actions that I’m worthy of your trust.

(... I believe in you.)

I believe that you’ll return to your original life.

I believe that you’ll smile with joy once again.

In this darkness where the sun doesn't shine, I believe in you.

(—... How lovely.)

Her profile was dazzling, like the setting sun before it disappeared in the horizon—.

(I want to see you smile again.)

(Like how you did when I saw you in town.)

Having those thoughts felt so natural to me.

If only this didn't have to be “The End” because of my job.

If only there was a “continuation” of your happiness.

(I want to make you happy.)

As I gazed at Kate’s look of determination—

— For some reason, an image of the twilight on the happiest day of my life appeared in my mind.

[resowrites]

Suddenly It Happened - oneshot (request).

Summary: Henry’s longtime personal assistant wonders if he’ll ever return her feelings…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, brief mention of relationship difficulties, nondescript OC body type/appearance, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 2040

A/N: My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Suddenly It Happened - oneshot.

The door to the waiting area closed softly. She looked up to see her boss, smiling casually as he motioned for her to join him. The meeting with his publicist lasted only half an hour but she still had to drive him into central London for a day of press. Naturally, he was dressed to the nines and looking as handsome as ever. She sighed as she got into the car, wondering how despite his ever-increasing popularity, he’d managed to remain single. She'd worked closely with him for the last five years, doing all manner of tasks, many far out of her purview as a personal assistant. But Henry wasn't like the other celebrities she'd met. He was kind, humble, and undemanding, the sort of man she'd always dreamed of meeting but knew was way out of her league. Her personality was very much like his own but whereas his looks were talked about and admired the world over, she was plain and bookish. Hardly his type. But that didn't stop her from daydreaming occasionally or stealing a loving glance. She knew nothing would ever happen, and she was far too serious about her job to ever risk being so stupid. Yet still, she wondered. He looked over at her from the passenger seat, his gaze as warm as his smile. She kept her eyes firmly on the road ahead "Tell me again where we're headed first?"

"The Thistle Hotel, you'll be there hopefully no more than a couple of hours. Did you manage to look over the list of questions I emailed you last night?" His smile grew wider.

"Yep, seems pretty standard stuff. Thanks for making sure there were no personal questions, though I must admit it gets a bit tedious being asked about Kal all the time..." She uncomfortably cleared her throat but otherwise said nothing. "You're still coming to the premiere next week aren't you?" 

"Of course, wouldn't miss it."

"Great, you know how uncomfortable I get at those things. All those flashing lights, the shouting, the hordes of people..."

"Well, don't worry. We'll whip you through it all pretty quickly." She tried to smile reassuringly.

"Thanks, I really appreciate it. And thanks for being with me today."

"No problem. It's what I'm here for." Her voice sounded thick as she finished her sentence and she hoped she hadn't come across too awkwardly.

"No, I'm serious. You make this job a thousand times easier and I don't thank you enough for it." She smiled again but remained silent. "... Are you okay?" Her brow furrowed.

"Of course, why?"

"I dunno, you just seem a little quiet." She tried hard not to blush. Being under such close scrutiny always made her cringe.

"Oh, no I'm fine. Just running through today's checklist in my mind. I've got to email Armani's head office again, your suit for the premiere still hasn't arrived." Henry chuckled softly.

"Well, relax. You work hard enough, and I can always find another suit." She shook her head, amused. "What?!"

"It's not quite that straightforward." He harrumphed.

"Well, it ought to be. I mean it though, don't run yourself ragged--"

"Well, I wouldn't be much of a personal assistant if I didn't." She gave a tired smile and he considered her for a moment. Eventually, she had to look away. "So, who are you taking to the premiere besides your family?" Why had she asked such a thing? She felt her face turn crimson, annoyed that her desperation to change the subject had caused her to well and truly put her foot in it. She certainly had every right to know, but it was information usually offered up by the client first.

"Er, I'm not really sure at the moment..." Henry returned to looking out the passenger window and she could have kicked herself. What did it matter who he invited anyway? She knew he dated around and would probably turn up on the arm of some young starlet. For a moment she both loathed and envied them. She'd worked hard all her life for very little in return. When could she expect the happiness she read about in her books or saw in the films she watched? A melancholy thought then entered her head, that being a personal assistant was the closest she'd ever get to someone like Henry. And she supposed that was fair enough. Surely someone as rich and handsome as him deserved someone equally beautiful and successful? She caught her reflection in her wing mirror and stared crossly at it. There was no use in her pining and indulging selfish thoughts. She had a job to do. Today was all about Henry. "Did you manage to get a table at La Cuchina?"

"Yep, in the private section at your usual table." She relaxed somewhat at the thought of having lunch with him, in private he was great company to be around, always joking and telling stories.

"Brilliant, to tell you the truth I'm already famished." She suddenly remembered the bagel and pecan brownie she'd picked up at Starbucks earlier that morning just in case. Henry had a habit of missing breakfast and she hated the thought of him going hungry. 

"Reach in the glove box, I picked you up something from Starbucks." His face lit up and he happily munched away as they came closer to the hotel. As was her custom on press days, she then moved on to her usual pep talk. "Now remember to relax and have fun, we've kept the questions light and entertaining so just keep your answers brief and focused."

"Is that your way of telling me I'm long-winded?" She shifted in her chair, not quite willing to meet Henry's mischievous gaze.

"Of course not, but I know you get carried away. Especially on your favourite subjects..."

"And what might those be?"

"Well, you do love your history for starters--"

"Oh, that reminds me, I read that one you recommended about Port Royal in the eighteenth century." She glowed inwardly at the thought of him reading something she'd enjoyed.

"Oh yeah, what did you think?"

"It was fascinating... do you think I could play a pirate?" She choked on the bottle of water she was sipping from. "I take that as a 'no?'"

"Well... you might have to drop the accent." They smiled at each other. "Anyway you'd get completely obsessed in the research and muggins here would be sent off on all manner of errands--"

"And when have I ever made you do those?!"

"Are you kidding?! The guys in the Warhammer store know me by name!"

"Ooh I wonder if James will be interviewing me again?" 

"Yes, he is, but remember to stay on track--"

"You call me obsessed, that guy knows everything there is to know. I wonder if he got the custom model I sent him a couple of weeks back?"

"He did, he sent a card to the office, didn't I tell you?"

"No... though you have seemed a little distracted lately." Her brow furrowed, but she didn't get a chance to respond. "How are things going with Simon?" She was afraid Henry would bring him up. Her six-month on-and-off relationship was the last thing she wanted to discuss. The truth was she hadn't heard from Simon for several weeks. 

"Fine," she said a bit too quickly.

"... Is he joining you at the premiere? You know you're allowed to bring a guest."

"No, he's... busy." The next couple of minutes were swallowed up by an uneasy silence.

"Oh, that's a shame. It's a big night for you though, what could he possibly have to do that's more important?" She bristled slightly at the question and decided it was best not to respond. "You know, you're a good person. You deserve someone who treats you well." She felt a curious mixture of embarrassment and delight.

"Nah, I'm nothing special. Besides, I'm married to the job..."

"Tell me about it, I have the exact same problem." She couldn't help but scoff.

"Oh come on, someone like you could have anyone. I bet you're spoiled for choice."

"What do you mean?"

"Well it's just, you know, you're... you. Who wouldn't want that?" She regretted the words the minute they came out of her mouth and her face flushed a deep crimson.

"You'd be surprised. People don't really love me they just love whatever image of me they have in their mind."

"And what makes you think you don't match up to that?"

"Well for one, I'm not always in such great shape." Was he joking? With him, it was sometimes hard to tell. "I think people expect me to be a lot more outgoing than I am as well." That part was certainly true, she'd definitely noticed how shy and introverted Henry could be.

"Well, I'm sure you'll meet the right person eventually." To this, he didn't reply and she began to wonder if she'd overstepped.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why are you still working for me?" She blinked several times, at first wondering if she'd misheard him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean you're an intelligent, hard-working woman, don't you have an economics degree?" She hardly knew how to respond. If she explained the real reason she kept working for him he could very well leap from a moving car.

"I dunno, I like what I do I guess." Another thought then crossed her mind. "Why? Are you unhappy with my services?"

"No, of course not! You're the best. I'd be totally lost without you. I just... hope I'm not holding you back." Did he mean to keep sending mixed signals? One minute he was singing her praises and the next he was questioning why she was even in his employ.

"To be honest... I have thought about moving on." Henry snapped round to face her.

"What? Why?!"

"Cos you're right, it's not very ambitious of me to keep spinning my wheels."

"But... but I need you." She felt her heart begin to thump.

"Oh stop, you could train a chimp to do what I do."

"... Pull over."

"What? Why? Henry, we're going to be late." But his hand pointed towards a free parking space free on the left-hand side of the road. Reluctantly, she reversed into it and came to a stop. They then sat there quietly for several moments. "Henry, we really need to get going."

"... Do you hate me?"

"What? Look, we really don't have time for this, you can't miss your first interview--"

"Sod the bloody interview!" Henry's outrage almost made her jump. "Answer the question." She sighed and took the key out of the ignition, figuring they were going to be there for a while. 

"No of course I don't hate you, you're one of the nicest people I've ever known." He worked his jaw, clearly choosing his next words carefully.

"... So will you go with me?"

"With you? Where to?"

"The premiere." She stared at Henry, utterly confused.

"I already said I was! Now let's get going, otherwise, we're going to get stuck in traffic." But he put his hand over hers, causing it to jerk away from the steering wheel. 

"No, I mean... will you go with me? As my guest?" The look in her eyes was blank at first and then almost tearful. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and a horrible pit open in her stomach. She snapped off her seatbelt and bolted from the car. "Wait, where are you going?!" For nearly five minutes, Henry chased after her, eventually catching her by the wrist when she turned to head down a quiet side street. "W-where do you think you're going?!" He leaned over for a moment out of breath and she was surprised to realise she'd outrun him.

"I'm sorry... I just needed some air."

"What? Why? Did I upset you?" She bit her quivering lip.

"You know it's not very nice to tease me. I know I'm just a plain Jane from the office but it really hurt my feelings. Please don't do anything like that again." Henry just gawped at her, dumbfounded.

"You think I was joking?" But this time she felt indignation rise up through her stomach.

"Well, aren't you?!"

"Of course not!" She tried to read his expression but then backed away and scoffed.

"Don't be ridiculous - what could you possibly see in me?!" The look on Henry's face was pitiful.

"... I see the sweet, gentle-natured woman who's put up with me for half a decade and gone above and beyond not only to help me but to be my friend when I've needed one most. There are so few people I can trust but with you, I can always be myself. I can't promise it'll be easy, but if you'll have me, I really hope you can be more than just a friend..." She hardly knew what to think, say, or do. These sorts of things just didn't happen, and she had a horrible feeling the trapdoor was going to open any minute.

"But... but why me?" It was his turn to look confused.

"Well, why not you? You're everything I've ever wanted. But, if you still have feelings for someone else--" she didn't let Henry finish. Instead, she threw herself into his arms and they spent the next few minutes kissing amidst the throng of passersby. 

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@elizabetharegina @fanfictionaddiction99 @luclittlepond @caffeinatedfestivalsheep @summersong69 @ushijimbo

[lizzyscribbles]

Today's MHA ramble is either gonna be great or ineligible and there will be no in-between. I'm on my computer instead of my phone today so I can type so much faster, but, I am slightly dehydrated and out of it because I just spent like eight hours outside in the sun for a renaissance fair so maybe I'll just pass out half way through, who knows.

Lizzy's MHA thought/ramble of the night: MHA and why I think it does the "power of friendship" trope the correct way (IE: Not cringy/weird).

Now, I honestly think trying to wrap up the intricacies of the end of MHA in just "the power of friendship!!" is doing the series a huge disservice, but in its simplest form, that kind of is what happens. To be honest, I'm such a sucker for this trope. I love it when we get to see all the people the MC (Izuku in this case) has made an impact on over the course of the series and they all come together to back the main character, that is thee shit and I will eat it up.

However, the thing I love about MHA's approach to this is something we see explored a lot through the series: the idea that you don't have to go at it alone. Like, I feel like the ending has so much more of an impact because instead of them all the other characters standing behind him and going "Yay!! You can do it!! Good job!!" No, instead they run beside him and say "rest, we'll clear you a path. We know we can't do this for you, but at least let us do this".

Because that's what a friend is. That's what friendship is. It's realizing that not only is a friend someone you want to protect, but it's someone who protects you.

It gives me chills Every. Damn. Time.

It's through that we get to see the impact Izuku has made on everyone in the series. I joke with people that even when Izuku has nothing to do with something that's happening, he has something to do with it, and that really comes to a head in the final chapters. In a sort of ironic way, it's what ends up defeating All for One, because it's literally the only thing he never managed to get. Deku says as much while they're fighting, that deep down All for One really is just a lonely man. He had power, people to do his bidding and hang on his every word, but the top of the world is a very isolating place to be because there's no one who can look you in the eye. Followers and friends are two different things, a friend is an equal, a follower is a pawn.

I think it's why All for One was so attached to his younger brother Yoichi, because deep down, he knew All for One in ways that no one ever could. It was the closest to a genuine loving relationship he ever got.

Honestly, it's part of why All Might failed the first time around too. He had a few friends, sure, but in the end he was surrounded by mostly fans. People who adored and appreciated him, but did so from behind a barricade. All Might pretty much worked alone - and Deku definitely couldn't have made the progress he made without the trail All Might blazed - but Deku had the one thing All Might never did: People who fought alongside him even when he didn't want them to.

And, honestly? I can't blame All Might for avoiding it. After all, Deku almost does this same thing. They both wanted to protect people so badly they don't want to accept help. They see themselves as the only person who's allowed to make sacrifices because they're so scared they'll loose someone. It's part of the reason I find such comfort in Izuku as a character, because he never wants to see anyone else hurt because of him.

However, because Deku reached out first in the beginning, because he made friends and took care of them whenever he could, because treated them as equals, they said "too bad so sad, you get our help whether you like it or not, because that's what you'd do for us". It's the beauty of those final episodes of season six and why I love them so much, because 1-A had no reason to go after Deku other than they were worried about him. They didn't take no for an answer, because sometimes it's a friend's job to take you by the hand and scream in your face to "TAKE A NAP!!! EAT SOME FOOD!! YOU'RE WEARING YOURSELF DOWN AND YOU NEED A BREAK!!! SIT DOWN AND LET US CARRY YOU FOR A WHILE!!!"

It's exactly like Ochaco says, they don't want to be protected. They're not fragile victims to be looked after. They didn't get blindly wrapped up in this mess, they dove in head first because they cared about Izuku and wanted to stand at his side.

And therein lies the difference.

All for One had followers.

All Might had fans.

Deku had friends.

Followers will only do as they're told. Fans will only cheer on. But friends? You can't tell them to do shit, they do what they want, and if they want to help you then they will. Friends go the extra mile. Friends run beside you when no one else can. Friends clear the path for you so you can deliver that final big ass punch.

That's the magic of this trope, and you can see it so clearly here because it's realistic. And by that I mean Izuku doesn't get a magical burst of energy because everyone was cheering his name from the sidelines. It came from them actually doing shit to give him a chance. It came from Aizawa bandaging his wounds, it came from Iida grabbing his hand and half-dragging him across the battle field, it came from Eri giving a little bit of her quirk, it came from Bakugo showing up at the last second to blast the crap out of someone, it came from the countless attacks launched by the rest of the heroes to give him a chance to get back on his feet.

You know what they say, actions speak louder than words, and that's the magic of this kind of storytelling. We don't need to be told they care through chants or claps, they just show us.

That's the true "power of friendship". People who don't just stand beside you, but sometimes run in front of you so you don't trip over that stump in the path.

That's friendship. That's love. And I think that's incredibly beautiful.

...these posts get longer every time. Maybe I need to stick to my phone so my thumbs get tired faster. 😂 This is what happens when I'm allowed to cook late at night. If you made it to the end, thank you and I salute you.

[e-dubbc11]

Hot neighbor Rumlow that you see in his yard like this one day. That's it. That's the ask 🥵💦

My lovely Lily,

You have so many great ideas roaming around inside that brain of yours and I love that you share those ideas with me and trust me to bring those ideas to life. So you wanted neighbor Rumlow? Here he is! I really hope you like it and thank you for always sending things/ideas to my inbox and for just being such a good friend ♥️♥️♥️

Hey, Neighbor

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: None, really. A couple of swear words, fluff, some smooches, mentions of infidelity and divorce.

Word Count: 3.7K-ish

Summary: You’re newly single and start looking at your neighbor differently.

A/N: I don’t really have much else to say that I didn’t say above. Brock is fun to write for and even though she hasn’t read it yet, Lily said she’s already game for a part 2 🤣 I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The early morning sun peeked through the very small opening in between your bedroom curtains. The warm rays beamed into your room, directly onto the foot of your bed where your dog, Beast, was sleeping peacefully.

It was Saturday and he seemed quite content that he also did not have to wake up early this morning however your internal clock never let you sleep in too much. Waking up with the sun was a lot better than being jolted awake by an alarm while it was still dark outside though so you reveled in the restful sleep you had last night.

You rolled over to look at your clock. It was 7:00 AM, birds were happily chirping outside your window, and you couldn’t wait to get up to do…nothing. It had been over a month since you had a free weekend and all you wanted to do today was relax, maybe start the new book you just bought, or just do whatever you felt like doing.

The house was quiet.

Since you finalized your divorce eight months ago, it had been very quiet but most of the time you didn’t mind. You thought maybe there was something wrong with you because you didn’t really have a problem being alone, sure there were times where you were lonely but you still didn’t mind being alone…maybe you actually preferred it.

You didn’t have any children so the divorce was quick and easy, he let you keep the house because he was moving in with his girlfriend, the one he was seeing while still married to you.

Yeah, that felt like a punch to the stomach. How could you not see it coming? Were you that blind? You thought you were happy together but it was all a lie, a lie that had dragged on for the past two years. It was humiliating and you felt like everyone knew he had been cheating on you except for you.

Even though they weren’t, you felt like everywhere you went people were looking at you, talking about you, and feeling sorry for you. But you were better off without him and you had everything you wanted right now.

You lived in a nice house, had a good job, friends, family, and your dog. What else did you need right now?

Coffee…coffee is what you needed.

“C’mon Beast…time to go outside, buddy. Let’s go.” You said, patting him on the head as he blinked his eyes and yawned, showing you all of his teeth.

After your divorce, you went to a local shelter because you wanted a dog for protection and companionship as you were now alone in your house.

When you walked in to where all of the kennels were, at first none of them felt like “the one” but as you moved toward the end of the rows of kennels, a young gray and white pitbull pushed his nose through the hole in the cage door and started wagging his tail, aggressively. Whimpering, he licked your fingers when you held them up to the kennel, he was such a sweet boy.

“What’s his story?” You had asked the employee.

“Not much to tell really, this guy has had a couple of homes but each owner said they didn’t really have the space for bigger dog like him and couldn’t give him the attention he needs.” They replied.

You had a decent size home and nice big yard for him to run around in so the decision was made that he was coming home with you and Beast smiled for the entire ride to his new home.

He did his little happy dance with his front paws before you opened the door and as soon as you opened it, he took off running for the very back of the yard where he did his business. As he sprinted back toward you, he stopped quickly in the middle of the yard to bring you his ball that he loved for you to throw for him.

The air was still slightly chilly as it brushed against your exposed skin. Your sleep clothes left little to the imagination, maybe you were still not fully awake yet, but you looked down and realized you were out in the middle of the yard in a thin strap tank top and shorts, with no bra on which of course is when your neighbor stepped outside to get onto his motorcycle.

You didn’t know what he did for a living but he was always out until crazy hours of the night or going in on weekends. You didn’t think he was a doctor; his wardrobe didn’t exactly scream “healthcare professional” but anything is possible. Dressed in all black wearing combat boots, he walked out of his side door with a scowl on his face and a furrowed brow.

His side door faced your yard and he actually did a double take when he saw you standing in the yard, half naked, playing with Beast so you gave him a little wave and a slight smile. He seemed a little flustered and quickly waved back but in an awkward manner.

His name was Brock Rumlow and had just come home from work the day you were moving into your house so he introduced himself to you and your then husband.

At the time, you didn’t really pay that much attention to what he looked like but now that you were single, you had noticed that Brock was quite handsome in a grouchy, angry sort of way.

Brock had dark brown hair, days old stubble on his face, and his eyes were a warm golden brown like the color of amber or whiskey. It was one of the first things you noticed about him when he introduced himself.

But you’ve had little interaction since besides the occasional “good morning” or a wave here and there. You felt yourself staring as he climbed on his bike and sped off down the street. You probably wouldn’t see him again today.

“Beast! Inside, now. Go on, time for your breakfast.” You said, holding the door open for him.

The temperature outside warmed up nicely since this morning and after cleaning for a little while, you decided you were finished with that for the day and were ready to relax with your book and a cup of tea. Part of the reason you bought your house was because it had a reading nook. You had always wanted one and you finally had one, it was your favorite place in the house.

With Beast asleep on the floor next to you and your tea resting on a little table behind your head, you were fully immersed in your book. Since it was such a nice day outside, you had opened the windows to get some fresh air and the curtains swayed as the cool breeze blew in through the screens.

You were so lost in the story, you almost didn’t hear Brock’s motorcycle pull back into his driveway. That’s strange. Usually when he left for the day, he was gone until sometime in the evening but you didn’t think much of it and went back to your book.

The reading nook faced Brock’s house and at one point you looked up from your book to rest your eyes and look out the window. To your surprise, when you looked up, Brock was standing in his driveway…and he was shirtless.

“Holy fuck.” You said out loud.

Oh shit…hopefully he didn’t hear you.

He was quite the specimen, warm tan skin, tight arm muscles and abs you could wash clothes on. How have you not seen this before? It couldn’t be the first time he’s been outside without a shirt but then again, he usually isn’t home during the daylight hours where you could see him clearly.

Beast picked his head up off of the floor as the words escaped your lips and he cocked his head to one side as he looked at you.

“Oh don’t look at me like that.” You said narrowing your eyes at him. “I didn’t know he was hiding that body underneath his clothes. How could I?”

You felt a little crazy talking to your dog like he was a person.

It looked like Brock was doing some stretching. Biting down on your thumb, you continued to stare out the window, hoping he was too far away for him to notice you gawking at him. With your thighs clenched together, you inched closer to the glass but you weren’t paying attention to how close to the glass you were.

Your forehead hit the glass with a slight “thud;” Brock looked up from his stretches and looked in your direction, thankfully you were quick enough to duck away from the window.

The pillow cradled your head as warmth rose to your cheeks and you watched as your book, resting on your chest, rose and fell with your nervous inhales and exhales. Beast had started to bark when he heard the thud against the glass. You tried to get him to stop by whisper yelling at him.

“Hey! Ssshhh, stop it! It’s just me!” You said.

Peeking out from behind the curtain, you saw Brock had gone back to his stretching. It looked like he was getting ready to go for a run. Beast finally stopped barking and Brock took off down the driveway.

You watched him until he was out of sight; finally, you could breathe easy but now you were wondering if he had noticed you watching him. You didn’t think so but it was still a possibility especially after the dog started to bark.

Maybe you were done reading for now.

**********

Since you had the entire day to yourself, you had the time to make your grandmother’s spaghetti sauce. You were the only one she trusted the recipe with and each time you made it, you reminisced about all the times you helped her make that sauce.

It would cook on the stove all day and your reward for helping her was she would give you a small bowl filled with sauce and a couple pieces of Italian bread for you to dip with. You would always get to have some before anyone else did, it was one of your favorite memories of her.

To get even more fresh air inside the house, you had opened the front door and kept the screen door shut plus Beast loved to sit in front of the door and watch people and cars go by.

While stirring the sauce, your back was toward the front door when Beast started to whine and scratch at the door. You figured he just saw another dog walk by; he loved to say hi to every person or animal that walked by the house.

He barked then scratched at the door so hard that he nudged it open and ran outside. You turned to see the screen door ajar and swaying back and forth.

“Shit! Beast! No!!” You shouted after him.

After you ran outside and down the driveway, you looked around for him and finally found him licking Brock’s face just past your mailbox.

“Oh my god, Brock I am so sorry! He just pushed the door open and ran out before I could stop him.” You said apologetically.

Brock was kneeling down next to Beast, gently patting his head.

“Oh that’s alright, doll. He’s a good boy, he just wanted to say hello. Didn’t ya boy?”

The smile on Brock’s face was probably the most genuine smile you’ve ever seen on him which made you smile.

“Well thank you for catching him for me.” You said.

You then did something very out of character. You had always been very shy and quiet but you liked Brock and you definitely couldn’t eat that sauce all by yourself. So even though it made you feel nauseous, you decided to ask him anyway.

“B-brock? W-would you like to come over for dinner tonight? I, well I made my grandmother’s spaghetti sauce and I forgot that it’s enough to feed a small army.” You said, struggling to get the words out.

He looked shocked and didn’t really know what to say, like it was the first time he’s ever been invited to dinner.

“Oh…thank you y/n, but I’m all sweaty from my run just now.” He said, politely.

You noticed the sweat glistening off his body and on his forehead. It was hard not to notice. He really was extremely handsome, especially when he smiled.

“Well you have plenty of time to shower and change. I’m not quite finished cooking yet.” You said.

Brock looked a little uneasy, almost like he didn’t want to hurt your feelings by telling you no. You finally felt ready enough to talk to another man in a way that’s not platonic and you were terrified that he was going to say no. And then to think you would be reminded of that rejection every time you saw him after that.

Glancing down at the ground, you thought maybe it would be easier if you didn’t look at him. Maybe you could keep the tears from stinging the back of your eyes but he surprised you with his answer.

“Well in that case, I’d love to, doll.” He said softly.

Butterflies formed in your stomach and the words that fell from your lips were a little shaky but you managed to get them out without stumbling too much.

“O-ok. Great! I’ll see you in about an hour then.” You said. “Come on, Beast. Let’s go, ya troublemaker.”

**********

Not wanting to look like you were trying too hard but still wanting to look put together, you put on a pair of jeans and changed from a white t-shirt to a black one in case the clumsy version of you decided to show up and get marinara sauce all over yourself. You kept the minimal makeup look you had on from earlier in the day and kept your hair back.

Brock knocked on your door exactly an hour later, Beast helped you greet him at the door by barking and wagging his tail. Brock had brought over a bottle of wine which was very sweet of him.

“Hi Brock…Beast, get down! I’m so sorry…oh, thank you for the wine. That’s very nice of you…BEAST, get down! I know you’re excited that someone else is in the house.” You said.

A slight smiled stretched across his lips as he looked at you with his honey colored eyes.

“I had a grandma once too…she taught me never to show up any place empty handed. I woulda got ya some flowers too but I only had an hour.” He said with a wink.

Brock was dressed almost exactly like you were. Black shirt and jeans but he was wearing black boots; he looked incredibly handsome.

He took one look at the dining room table and admitted to feeling a little underdressed. You had set the table nicely with placemats, cloth napkins, and candles. You didn’t think it was overly romantic but maybe he did and you were afraid you might scare him away but it didn’t.

“Do you need help with anything?” He asked.

You were caught completely off guard by that question. Your ex-husband didn’t help much with the cooking or anything, really.

“Oh! Thank you, I think I’m all set though. Actually, you can open the wine…let me just find the corkscrew.” You said.

**********

Surprisingly, Brock was very easy to talk to. The wine probably helped a little but you had a feeling that maybe he wasn’t as angry as he appeared to be sometimes. Eyebrows pulled together in a straight line, lips pressed together, the gruff raspy tone to his voice when he said “good morning…” maybe he just didn’t want people to know that he’s actually kind of sweet and soft.

“I’ll admit, I was a little surprised when I saw your ex movin’ out. I thought you two had a decent marriage.” Said Brock.

With raised eyebrows, you said, “Yeah well, I wasn’t having sex nearly as often as he was sooooooo.”

Brock looked surprised as you confessed your ex had cheated on you.

“Wait…he cheated on you?” He asked.

“Brock, I feel like everyone else knew except me, like everyone on the street was looking at me differently. I felt really ashamed.” You said with a hitch in your voice as you looked away from him.

Tears welled up in your eyes quicker than you anticipated and before you could prevent one from streaking down your cheek. It was slightly embarrassing because you didn’t know your neighbor all that well and now you were crying in front of him.

“Hey, hey y/n…it’s ok.” He said softly as he gently brushed the top of your hand with his calloused fingers. The rasp in his voice was so sexy. “If it makes you feel any better, I had no idea and I doubt anyone else knew either. Plus…just…well, fuck that guy.”

You weren’t expecting him to say that; it caught you off guard and you let out a little laugh.

“Ya know what? You’re right…fuck that guy!” You exclaimed with a wide smile.

The two of you finished the bottle of wine and Brock insisted on doing the dishes, he actually looked cute with the dish towel draped over his shoulder which, you couldn’t help but notice, was filling out that part of his shirt nicely. Was it the wine that was making you warm or was it him?

You continued to talk for a while longer before Brock got up to leave. You really didn’t want him to go though.

“In my line of work, they don’t really care that it’s Sunday. I have to get up early tomorrow.” He said.

Nodding your head, you replied. “Oh of course. I understand.”

You followed him over to the front door, he turned to face you, and said, “Thank you for this, y/n. It was really nice, haven’t had a home cooked meal in awhile so thank you again.”

Your bodies were close, sharing the same air and you could smell the wine on his lips as he spoke.

“You’re very welcome, Brock. I’m sure I’ll still be eating that sauce for days but thank you for trying to help me make a dent in it.” You said, nervously.

Your heart was beating so fast, you thought it was going to burst out of your chest. You knew your skin would be warm to the touch as your heart beat faster and faster.

“Well…goodnight y/n.” He whispered.

His warm breath brushed against your ear, the air between you felt thick, like you could cut it with a knife and you wanted him to kiss you so badly.

You replied. “Goodnight.”

He walked out and turned back once more to wave and smile at you.

Before you closed the door, Beast whimpered while staring out at the street. He was probably wondering where Brock went.

“He went home, buddy. He doesn’t live here, ya know.” You told him with a slight smile but in a disappointing tone.

As you closed the door, Beast whined again and you whispered, “I know, I wanted him to kiss me too.”

After your shower, you decided to read a little more. The lights in the house were dimmed, the only bright light in the room was your book light and you had only been reading for about 20 minutes when Beast let out a low growl. You looked down at him, his tail started to swish back and forth then started to whine.

“Ya know for a big bad pitbull, you whine a lot like a little baby. What is it?” You asked.

Immediately after you asked that question, there were three loud raps against your front door. Confused, you put your book down, threw the blanket off of your legs, and walked over to the front door. Beast followed you, wagging his tail.

Brock was leaning against the screen when you opened the front door.

“Hey doll, I uh…well, I forgot something.” He said, opening the screen and stepping inside.

You looked up at him, then looked back over at the dining room chair, still a little confused.

“Oh…I don’t remember you bringing a jack—“ You tried to say before he cut you off.

Brock’s lips collided with yours, as he closed the door behind him. Suddenly your back was against the wall, running your fingers through his thick brown hair, while your lips parted, giving his tongue access to your mouth.

He was a really good kisser.

Brock’s chest was pressed firmly against yours, so you were pinned in between him and the wall. He was so strong but it felt amazing to have your body pressed against his. He nipped at your jawline and peppered kisses up and down your neck while soft moans escaped your lips.

Beast stood on his hind legs and lunged toward you and Brock like he was missing out on something. He was whining.

Breathing heavily, you pulled away and smiled at Brock. Your cheeks were warm and you could feel how red they were.

“I think someone else wants a kiss.” You said. “Careful, he has a fast tongue.”

Brock bent down so he was level with Beast and he glanced up at you. “Yeah, he ain’t the only one.” He said with a wink.

You covered your eyes in embarrassment.

After giving Beast gentle pats to his head, Brock stood up and closed the gap between your bodies. He cupped your cheeks, leaned in, and kissed you again. These were gentle kisses, soft and sweet and his stubble lightly brushed against your skin.

It had been awhile since your lips had touched someone else’s, his kisses sent shivers down your spine and gave you butterflies in your stomach. These were feelings you haven’t had in a long time; you were nervous but willing to give it all another chance.

“Dinner at my place next time, doll?” He asked.

A sly smile stretched across your lips as you purred into his ear.

“Only if we can have dessert first…neighbor.”

Others that might enjoy: @munsonownsmyass @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @k-marzolf @redstarsandnightmares @nutmeg17 @gijos @randomlittleimp @nekoannie-chan

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

[endless-summer-soldier]

dr. feelgood - chapter four

pairing: Surgeon!Bucky x SurgicalIntern!Reader

summary: Y/N has a one night stand with a handsome stranger the night before starting her new job as a surgical intern. Little does she know, the handsome stranger also happens to be her new boss

warnings: must be 18+, drinking, some surgery descriptions, smut, self-pleasure, praise kink, very minor character death, unprotected sex, rough sex

word count: 2.1k

series playlist: here

taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @ozwriterchick @notmeddy @drewsuncrustables @lokidokieokie @hextech-bros @nats-whore @m4nulup1n @arcanebabe @tanyaspartak @jackiehollanderr @princezzjasmine @fallenlilangel99 @pono-pura-vida @mavrellover91 @milanaasblog (message me to be added!)

series masterlist

It had been two weeks since the “incident” with Bucky. I had been avoiding him as much as possible but managed to keep things professional when I did have to interact with him. 

Today most of the interns were sitting in the gallery preparing to watch Dr. Stark perform an open heart surgery. This was the most intense surgery since I started and we were all eager to watch his technique.

As Stark finished scrubbing, he entered the OR and started dancing around the patient, jamming to Metallica. And then I smelled it. Honeycrisp apples. I had an immediate reaction, remembering my tryst with Bucky, and I felt my underwear dampen ever so slightly.

“Did I miss anything?” Bucky whispered in my ear, as he took another bite of his apple.

“He’s just getting started,” I replied, refusing to look at him.

Stark cranked up the music as he called for the ten blade.

“Why don’t we get to listen to music and dance in your OR?” I joked.

He scoffed, “I hate that he does this. He loves to put on a show and entertain. He’s brilliant but he thinks more about himself than his patients.”

“Mmm,” I said, snacking on a pretzel and trying not to engage further.

“When I was in Afghanistan, there was no music. Hell we barely had the proper tools. We were operating on the battlefield with whatever we could carry on our backs. And he will never understand that. So yes, it drives me crazy that he takes all this for granted.”

He seemed worked up and he made a really great point. While it seemed fun to be in Stark’s OR, he did seem a little flashy considering he was conducting heart surgery.

“How long did you serve?”

“I was enlisted for twelve years, but some of that time was spent in medical school. I was overseas for…six years.”

“Thank you for your service,” I said, looking at him for the first time.

“Thank you. I really appreciate that.”

“As fun as it looks in there, I’d much rather be scrubbed in with you,” I said. It was a genuine comment, not flirty. I respected that he valued everything at his disposal and worked with the sole interest of the patient in mind.

“You just like watching me scrub,” he flirted, changing the tone.

“There’s nothing I like more than a clean man,” I joked. He genuinely chuckled and took another bite of his apple.

As Stark continued on with the surgery, he kept looking up at his crowd and making eyes with all of us, as if showing off. I could practically feel Bucky rolling his eyes next to me. A few minutes later he leaned in and said, “I think I’ve had enough of this.” I felt him stand up and leave the room, bored with the procedure. I found that I wasn’t far behind him. Bucky had shown a light on this surgery that I hadn’t thought of before. And so, I finished my bag of pretzels and left to go check on some of my patients. 

As I reached the nurses’ station, Bucky appeared at my side and said, “We got a case coming into the ER. A homeless man was sleeping in a dumpster and got picked up by a trash truck. Multiple injuries, you want in?”

“Absolutely.”

It was my first bad day in the hospital. It was bound to happen eventually, but I didn’t think it would impact me this much. I was assigned to Dr. Strange’s service today to complete a tumor resection. Our patient’s name was Jarvis. Despite having the name of a butler, Jarvis was in his early forties and was an absolute delight of a patient. He was polite and asked good medical questions, but he also made an attempt to get to know all the doctors and nurses tending to him. He shared with me that he was a computer programmer and was fascinated by all the technology we used at the hospital. He somehow managed to gain the respect of Strange, which was impressive considering most doctors in the hospital hadn’t even tackled that feat.

And after spending the last week in the hospital, greeting me warmly every morning, he died in surgery. I knew better than to get attached, and I wouldn’t say that I was, but I was fond of the guy. He was young and had his whole life ahead of him. He was planning to express his feelings to the woman he was secretly in love with after his surgery. But he would never get that chance; he wouldn’t wake up. Strange called time of death cavalierly, as if we hadn’t been joking around with him hours before. I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to dissociate like that.

After my shift ended, I went to Pym’s, the bar across the street. The last thing I wanted was to ponder my thoughts alone in my apartment.

“Whatcha havin?” Scott, the owner of the bar, asked. A lot of the hospital staff frequented the establishment which meant we were all on a first name basis with Scott.

“Tullamore Dew, neat.” Scott gave me a surprised look before pouring the Irish whiskey.

“Long day?” he asked.

I nodded, “Something like that.” He gave me a sad smile and added a little extra to the rocks glass in front of me.

“Thanks Scott.”

“Let me know if you need anything else.” He read people so well. When I came in with a smile on my face and ordered tequila, he would chat with me and ask about my life and the hospital. But today he gave me some space, which was appreciated.

I took a long swig of whiskey and let out a deep breath, trying to forget the events of the day.

“Drinking whiskey? That can’t be good.” I felt someone sit in the seat next to me and glanced over to find Bucky.

“Hi Dr. Barnes,” I said, turning my attention back to my drink.

“Doll, we’re outside of work. Call me Bucky.”

“Yeah whatever,” I muttered. He flagged down Scott and pointed to my drink, as if to say I’ll have what she’s having.  

Once the drink was in front of him, he said, “So what are we drinking to tonight?”

I stayed quiet for a while, searching my whiskey for answers, before I decided to talk.

“Does it ever get easier?” I asked, turning for the first time to face Bucky.

He looked into my eyes and seemingly understood my predicament. 

He shook his head and looked down to his drink, “No it doesn’t.”

“I just didn’t think it would be this hard, you know? They covered all this in med school. We talked about the emotional toll this job takes and we practiced breaking the news to family members, but…I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for the real thing.”

“It’s by far the worst part of the job. And everytime it happens, you feel like shit. Sometimes it's worse than usual. And then sometimes you sort of become numb to it. But no matter how numb you get, there will always be another case that makes you question your career.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” I asked, taking another sip of my drink.

“Hey, I’m just telling you the truth.”

“I do appreciate that. Better than sugar coating it.”

“There is one thing I’ve found that helps me.”

“What’s that?”

“I either come here or I make myself a drink at home. And I think about that person’s life. The highs, the lows, their family, friends, and then I think through the surgery. And I ask myself, is there anything I should’ve done differently. Sometimes there are things you could’ve changed, other times it was bound to happen. And you learn from it. You give yourself time to be upset, let it out. And then you move forward.”

His advice was oddly insightful.

“You're welcome for sharing that, by the way. Took me years to get into a good routine. And maybe that doesn’t work for you, but you need to find a way to reflect productively.”

“Thank you, really.”

“Do you want to talk about them?”

I nodded, “His name was Jarvis. He was an absolute pleasure to be around. He was so respectful of everyone working on his case. He never buzzed the nurses when he needed something because he knew how busy they were and he didn’t want to give them more work to do. He asked really insightful questions when we walked through the procedure; he had clearly done his research. And everytime I went in to check on him before the surgery, he asked me how I was doing. He asked what my plans were for the evening. He saw me as a human being, not just a doctor.”

“What was he in for?”

“Brain tumor. Not easy to remove, but Strange was confident he could get it. And he was close, but…” I couldn’t continue, and Bucky seemed to understand.

I was surprised to feel his hand on my back, gently rubbing up and down.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Thanks for sitting here and listening to me.”

“Any time. And hey, just remember how many people we do help. This job isn’t easy, but the wins are what keep us going.”

I nodded and finished my drink, and thought about my next move. 

“You heading home?” he asked me. He had nearly finished his drink.

“I’ll stay for one more,” I smiled. He nodded and called to Scott, asking for another round. “Why don’t you tell me about your day?”

“Oh well, strap in because you are about to be very impressed.” I appreciated him changing the mood to one of levity. It served as a great distraction, even if he was over exaggerating his successes. He continued to throw in jokes, and compliments, in an attempt to make me smile, which worked like a charm.

We spent the remainder of the drink talking about the surgery he completed that day. I asked him questions and pictured his procedure in my head, wishing I had been with him in the OR instead of assigned to Strange.

Our glasses were empty and Bucky instinctively handed over his credit card to pay for our rounds, despite my protests. “You’re an intern, I know how much you make. Take the free drinks,” he argued. He settled up the bill and we collected our things, departing our local bar.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asked me.

I thought about protesting, declaring myself an independent woman who could care for herself. But I found I didn’t have the fight in me today. 

“Sure,” I smiled. We walked toward the parking lot of the hospital in comfortable silence. When we reached my car, there was a moment. We looked at each other and I could sense him reading me, trying to figure out his next move. The tension between us was high, and I genuinely considered giving into my pining. It would be nice to have some company tonight, even if it was just to share a glass of wine and partake in some innocent cuddling. But there was nothing innocent about Bucky Barnes, and inviting him into my home would be like asking in a vampire: my defenses against his seduction would be useless and I’d wake up with bruises on my neck.

“Thanks Buck,” I eventually said, unlocking my car.

“Any time,” he said, as he took a careful step backwards. “You working tomorrow?” he added.

I simply nodded and gave him a soft smile.

“Good, I’m requesting you for my service. We’re gonna save some lives.”

Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t sleep. I contemplated another whiskey, but was keen to avoid a hangover in the morning. Instead, my eyes were affixed to the ceiling as I half-heartedly listened to a podcast in an attempt to lull me to sleep.

What puzzled me was that I wasn’t up thinking about Jarvis, I was thinking about Bucky. He provided the exact support that I needed in my moment of despair, proving he was more than just a good lay. Suddenly, the line between personal and professional didn’t seem so clear.

Sure, it was unethical to get involved with a superior, but it must’ve happened in hospitals all the time. Surgeons spend a majority of their time in the hospital, fraternization must be commonplace. It didn’t seem like such a big deal anymore. Who cares about what other people think, shouldn’t my happiness come first?

Before I realized what was happening, my fingers were inside of me and a moan was escaping my lips. Bucky was on my mind, in every position imaginable. Pumping vigorously, then slowly. His lips on my neck, his tongue circling my ear. His musky scent penetrating my nasal cavity. The thought of it was all too much, and I came undone so easily. As I was gently overcome by sleep, I knew that things had changed and I was in trouble.

next chapter

[bengiyo]

Last Twilight Ep 3 Stray Thoughts

Last time, Mhok began working and was pleased with his salary. He may be rough around the edges, but he was doing his "easy" job. He had some initial friction with Day around moving his things and taking care of the fish, but things came to a head when Day tried to run from strangers seeing his condition. Mhok got triggered, thinking Day might hurt himself, and broke into his room. Mhok got fired, but Porjai came to talk to Day about Mhok putting himself through an exercise to understand Day's disability more and the two have reconciled for now.

I like the two of them straightening Day's room together and understanding the system to help him find things. It's a relief to see Day having fun with it.

The inflatable dino costumes are so silly. This is fun.

Now, Mhok, you know better than to swipe through someone else's pictures.

They saw Day making progress around the house and made him instantly clam back up by suggesting he go back to school.

Mhok's relationship with Porjai is used very well here. I love that she has moved on from Mhok and is happy, so I don't feel bad about her giving perspective and wondering about some jealousy plotline.

I like the pace of the relationship between Mhok and Day so far. Day is already asking Mhok for help on his own.

I will always love teachers who refuse to let students give up on themselves.

Mhok is a good listener and supporter. I like that he doesn't involve himself in the conversations between the family or the teacher, and that he aids Day's attempt to avoid notice.

Said the name of the show. Finish your drinks.

Thank you for keeping the lights on, Oishii.

I like how Mhok plays with the preconceptions that he doesn't know much to encourage Day to figure out some things. It's a very gentle approach that uses Day's own ego to move him forward.

WE HAVE FINALLY USED THE BANGKOK METRO SYSTEM IN A BL. 🎉 IPYTM came close, but we never went inside.

I love that Mhok tried to prank Day with the pink shirt. Later, in the dressing room, we know he's watching out for Day because he confirmed that he knew what was on the shirt he picked.

I like the way the physical tension between them around Day's exposed body is building.

And Day made Mhok get the pink shirt! I love this.

Mhok being sure to include Day in the conversation with the bookstore owner is a great touch. I like that he didn't let Day give up and insisted they find the book today.

Even if it's a bit artificial, I like Mhok slipping the book where Day would find it to help him have a sense of accomplishment since Day had been also sifting through books.

The last page is missing? How will we know the ending? Okay, Aof. I see you.

Increasing the price because he's Mhok's friend was so fun. It's the kind of detail that makes the world feel like it has a history. It was clearly a joke and let Day have fun.

Oh, we were having such a good day, and now Mhok feels like he has to defend Porjai and in a fight against Porjai's two-timing boyfriend. Now Day is lost.

Oh my goodness, did Mhok switch to the pink shirt to make himself more visible? I am going to melt.

Mhok is so ready for people to look down on him that he immediately owned his own history rather than let the mom hold it over him.

Oh shit that was great eye shine from Jimmy when Day started saying how much he appreciates Mhok.

Not sure what all is going on with Night and Day yet, but I like that he came to Mhok's defense after they left the room.

That was a really well done wind down for this episode.

More of Film next week!!

So, I'm really loving this show and so glad that a GMMTV show is back to sound episodic structure. Jimmy and Sea both feel much more attuned to their characters and their chemistry feels a lot easier than their last outing. This is a solid watch

[v3nusxsky]

Darling 18+

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*A/n~ I’ve never written smut before and this is my first fic I’m posting here so any pointers would be appreciated*

Prompt~ reader is teasing Larissa until she snaps giving into her own wants. Smut fic.

Tw~ NSFW (finger!ng) (sub reader/dominant Larissa) (mommy k!nk) (spank!ng) (swear!ng) (eating out) (thigh r!d!ng) (strap)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fingers tugged at your hair absentmindedly throwing it up In a bun on top of your head. Pieces of your fringe fell to cup your cheeks as you sighed. Today had been nothing short of stressful. You love your job, of course you did but that didn't mean it didn't come with its own challenges. You'd been teaching outcast history at Nevermore now for 3 years, so of course you knew certain points in the semester was hell. The teaching itself is wonderful, you love passing on your knowledge to your students. You can't help but find it fascinating to talk about of the different kinds of outcasts, the challenges they face, how they came to be and the relations between Outcast and Normies. But the paperwork? Now that was tiresome and quite frankly boring as hell. But still you did try your best to stay caught up on it so it didn't take all the joy from your days. However the past few months really you'd neglected your paperwork in favour for something else. Or rather someone else.

A certain stunningly tall principle offered a great distraction these days. In fact she's the reason you had paperwork overflowing from your desk. Over your years here you watched as a tentative friendship blossomed between you and Larissa. Often most weekends you'd go to her office to drink wine and relax by the fire. It's one reason why you have grown to long for the weekends. Recently those evenings had included some harmless flirting between the pair of you. It was no secret you had eyes for the fairer sex however when you found out Larissa was the same you honestly choked on the wine you had swigged. You hadn't expected her to be interested in women or well rather anyone. If anything she seemed married to her job. She loved Nevermore and it's students more than anything else. It was endearing to see the determination and care she put in every day to be the best principal Nevermore had ever seen.

You made your way to the desk and decided to start from the bottom. This way you knew no matter how much you managed to complete tonight before you passed out from exhaustion, you wouldn't miss any deadlines. You're classroom was peacefully silent apart from the gentle scratching of pen against paper. You couldn't help but allow your mind to wonder to your boss. After all you were completing these with the upmost care making sure everything was legible, aiming to reduce the stress she would have. You'd spent many night's listening as she would whine about messy plans submitted from teachers. Your mind wandered to the previous night. The flirting had an affect on you, you were starting to think Larissa knew that. Secretly enjoyed flustering you. You couldn't help the small smile that overtook your lips as you recalled one of your favourite moments. You were sitting in a comfortable silence watching the flickering flames dance together. Only when you'd taken a big swig of your wine did Larissa lean over and whisper in your ear "you look absolutely ravishing love" causing you to cough and splutter on the wine as a bright red blush adorned your cheeks. Larissa couldn't help blur chuckle are the response you gave. It pleased her to no end knowing she had this effect on you.

As if the women on your mind knew you were thinking of her, your phone lit up with a text from her.

"Y/n can you come to my office? I'm feeling quite stressed and I would benefit from your help." You know what they say curiosity killed the cat, that's why you found yourself walking the familiar route to her office. Paperwork forgotten. Once you reached her doors that clearly stated "principle L. Weems" on a thick golden plate, you didn't even know you just pushed the doors open slightly, just enough for you slip through the gap before shutting the doors. Turning around you could see that the women had her shoulders tensed up, eyes fixed on the paper as she concentrated and her left hand balled into a fist as her right carefully scribbled down on her own work.

"Larissa?" You whispered only wishing to alert her to your presence and not spook her when she was clearly concentrating.

"Ah y/n! Please do come here darling." You couldn't help but freeze and blush at the pet name. Larissa seemed to be in a strange mood this evening as when you didn't move she barked at you in a stricter voice that was normally used with her students "now y/n!"

You couldn't help but quickly scurry to stand in front of her bowing your head in a form of an apology. "Uh sorry Larissa, what did you need?"

"Darling, I've had a stressful day" there was that name again, and you knew this fact already. I'm fact you'd had to send two of your students to her office for their behaviour today. "Now I'm sure you noticed we have a special kind of relationship and you can tell me if I'm wrong here but I think it could extend to more than friends and more than boss and employee wouldn't you agree dear?"

Eyes blinking rapidly you processed what she'd just admitted. She wanted to be more than friends? Excitement rose through you as you nodded in your agreement. "Darling, words please" she whispered holding your gaze. "I um I agree Rissa" you diverted your gaze to find your shoes not being able to contain the flush spreading over your cheeks. You had to be dreaming? Right? "Perfect! So love why don't you come and help relieve this stress?" The thickness in her voice and the glint In her eyes showing you just how badly she wanted you. God this had to be a dream. But no way would you turn this down, even if you'd wake up in an extremely frustrating state.

"Wha-what um what can I do to help Rissa?" Eggar to please the women you would only go as far as she wanted. You stood, head still tilted down waiting for instructions. Suddenly the tilting of your head wasn't to hide your blushing, no it was that of submission. Unknown to you this pleased Larissa to no end. You almost dropped to your knees at her command. And the commanding tone? God you are a goner. "Come sit on my lap pet" moving to straddle her lap you rested your face in the crook of her neck. Her scent was that of floral and honey mixed together. You went limp allowing her to readjust you as she deemed fit. A little shaken breath escaped you your aching centre rested against her toned thigh.

"Now little one, I have to finish some work and your going to be a good little one and rut against my thigh hmm? I know you need me y/n. I can practically smell you as you drip onto my thigh. Before any of that I need to know you want this. If you don't this can stop now and we can just talk." The last part of her words sounded slightly unsure like she was expecting rejection. But that wouldn't come. You wanted her. Needed her. And most importantly you wanted to help her destress. If this was what she wanted the hell you'd happily allow it for as long as she was willing. You managed to whisper out a please which caused the women to smile and tap your hips, silently giving you permission to follow the order you'd been given. Your hips slowly rocked against her thigh, teasing yourself not that you needed to but If this was a dream then you wanted it to last forever. Soon enough whines of need and pleasure we tumbling from your lips and into her neck. Breath ticking the little hairs there. You could feel how you were soaking her strong thigh, you picked your pace up subconsciously as you grew closer to your peak. Movements become more desperate and needy as she brought a hand to your waist, fingers finding purchase there hoping to slow your movements. She was almost done and although she could let you fall over the edge now, she didn't want to. She wanted to see you as pleasure took over your every thought.

Pen now thrown down against the desk, you had her full attention as you mewled against her neck "fuck mmm Rissa I need"

"Oh darling I know what you need. But you have to earn it. Don't you want to be my good girl?" She husked out placing a gentle kiss to your head as she brought her over hand up to fully still your hips. Fuck you could cum just by that statement. You stood up on shaky legs allowing your breathing to attempt to steady itself.

"Little one, kneel" and you did just that. It was embarrassing how quickly you followed her commands. You knew you seemed like a pathetic slut but truthfully for Larissa you are just that. Normally you wouldn't submit so willingly.

Kneeling in front of her chair, face to face with her panty clad sex you couldn't help but wonder what she'd taste like. You drew your bottom lip between your teeth at the thought. Unknowing that Larissa was watching every action closely. She shifted her hips and removed her own panties as you went wide eyed. Your pupils dilated as you were now looking at her dripping pussy. You were taken there and then. The unbearable urge to just dive in between her gorgeously toned thighs. You looked up at her through your eyelids silently begging for permission to do just that.

You looked so desperate there fully clothed, hair messy and eyes clouded with desire. She couldn't help but being her hands to find purchase in your hair, giving you all the permission you needed. Larissa took a sharp breath as you gingerly licked around her soaked pussy, teasing her and just getting a taste. She was your new favourite flavour. Nothing you'd ever tasted compared to this. You'd happily eat her for the rest of your life. As you continued to explore with your tongue you were able to gage what was having the best effect. The kitten like licks lavished her clit had her gripping tighter in your hair pulling you closer in a silently plea for more.

"Fuck y/n please stop teasing me" she whimpered out between breaths. Taking this as your cue you finally allowed your tongue to explore inside her lips. The taste so much stronger caused you to moan and clench your thighs together. Wanting to be good for her you tried to ignore your own desire. Suddenly confidence overwhelmed you and you plunged two fingers into her sopping pussy, causing her to cry out a strangled moan. You were pumping your fingers in and out at a brutal pace, the primal need to make her cum driving you. Her breathing was irregular moans tumbling from her lips as you felt her thighs start to shake, tale tale signs to keep going despite the burning in your arm. You brought you mouth to her bundle of nerves and sucked. Hard. Which was what helped Larissa let go and cum hard all over your fingers that were still buried in her sex. You could feel her walls fluttering around your fingers as you helped her down from her high. Tugging on your hair was pulling you away from her, causing you to whine in protest. “Tsk, darling you are going to pay for that I thought you were going to be good for me hmm? “

"I'm sorry I just I wanted you to feel good i-"

She cut you off "I don't wish to here excuses. Y/n come lay over my lap... now!" The commanding tone once again had you falling over your own feet in an attempt to comply as quickly as possible.

You felt your dress being lifted up to your hips and your panties striped from you. The cold air hitting your pussy causing a small gasp.

"Count little one, I want you to be a good girl for me okay ?"

You nodded and waited for the blow that you knew was coming. Surely enough a firm well placed smack to your right ass cheek as you gasping out "fuck o one"

"Ow two"

"Th three"

"Oh fuck me four" your voice was quivering now as tears strolled down your face, dripping onto the floor.

"You're doing so well darling just one more okay such a good girl for me"

"F five fuck me mommy!" You all be screamed out your word's echoing off her official walls. The women underneath you froze hearing your last word. However your sluggish brain still hadn't quite caught up on what you'd said. No all you could think about was the stringing of red flesh and your own needy dripping pussy. Larissa brought her hand to rub firm gentle circles on your back as you collected your breathing. God this women would be the death of you. She'd not even touched you properly yet and yet here you were minutes away from begging her like a desperate whore.

Larissa brought you so she was able to see your face. Her thumbs wiped the stray tears that had fallen as she was overcome with the desire to kiss you. A needy breathless kiss that made you week at the knees. The kisses trailed off to your cheeks, your neck and your ear before she whispered what was quite possibly your new favourite sentence. "Can I fuck you love?" You nodded embarrassingly quick as you watched her move around. Seemingly finding what she wanted she went and locked the office door, just in case. You blushed knowing it hadn't been locked. You were lucky it was out of school hours, so no students would be around. You were captivated as Larissa stripped down slowly before slipping on the harness. A dark red colour sporting a red dildo. You were relieved to see it was roughly average size and girth. Knowing how sensitive you'd be anything bigger would've destroyed you. You didn't realise you were starring until fingers clicked in front of you. "Thought I lost you there little one, now strip. I want to fuck you" it should've been a world record for how fast you rid yourself of your bra and dress. Larissa chuckled at your eagerness and helped you up to sit on her desk. You watched with a desperate interest as she lined the toy up with your centre. Thrusting in once causing your eyes to roll back your head and your back to arch as you adjusted to her size. She was busy peppering kisses up and down the tall of your neck and over your collar bones. She knew you needed more when your hips jerked forward desperately seeking more. Only then did she pull out of you almost all the way before slamming back into you. Settling a delicious but ruthless pace. You're moans were uncontrollable by now. Loud and mumbled becoming in coherent as you began the climb to your own climax.

“Little one, if you wish to come beg me" Larissa husked at you breathing irregular due to the labour of her harsh movements.

"P pl easeee Larissa I need to cum let me cum." You all but cried out

"You're so pretty when you beg my love but same my name."

"Risaaaaaa fuck me please oh god I can't"

"No little one say. My. Name." She all but growled out at you making sure to keep you teetering on the edge of your own climax that your body desperately desired.

"Oh fuck me mommy please mommy please I need you" and with that Larissa brought a hand to your clit causing your body to throw you over the edge. Moaning desperately as you rode out your orgasm. Sweat covered your body as she pulled out of you gently causing you to whine and collapse back against the desk. Concern flashed through her eyes. Had she been too rough?

"Darling are you okay?" The concern Evident in her voice.

"Mhmmmmmmm I mm " you managed to mumble out fighting your exhausted body. Larissa had fucked you so well your body and brain couldn't keep up.

Sensing that she'd done a good job Larissa chuckled and pulled you into her arms carrying you to her quarters next door.

"Oh look at my little one, mommy fucked you well mmm?" There was a hint of pride in her tone which caused a sleepy hmm of agreement from you. You were curled up against the principle desperately wishing hoping you weren't going to wake up and this only be a dream. Exhaustion was seeping through your bones as your stubbornly tried to fight it, just in case this was a dream you didn't want it to end.

"Sleep now little one, I'll still be here when you awake darling" the soothing words and tone was all it took for you to allow sleep to take you.

Word count~ 2983

*A/n ~ never wrote smut before all that was definitely an experience such a long chapter I hope it's not too terrible for you guys*

[hailey-murdock]

hailey baby I have a fluffy matt request

you spend the evening with him after he returns from a long day at the courthouse. eating takeout food, and hanging out. just really fluffy and wholesome, the rest is all yours <3

- with love, your dumbass counterpart💋

Ahhh okay so this is my very first fic, and I hope I did good for you my sweet dumdum ❤

(a/n: reblogs are appreciated)

The more I give to thee, the more I have

Paring: Matt Murdock x Reader

Warning: None. Just pure fluff.

Summary: based off this request from my most favorite person in the world (@little-miss-dilf-lover) Alicia ❤💋

"you spend the evening with him after he returns from a long day at the courthouse. eating takeout food, and hanging out. just really fluffy and wholesome, the rest is all yours <3"

WC: 800ish

Dating Matt has its advantages and disadvantages. You hated the nights when your boyfriend would come through the apartment window late at night all beaten up and hurt. But you loved him for who he is, a man devoted to making Hell's Kitchen a safe place for many people along with his closest friends and especially for you, hoping that one day maybe a mini you or mini Matt as well. 

A man who worshiped the ground you walked on. A man who loves you passionately and deeply. Matt isn't like any other man you've dated before. Either it was his nightly activities or his normal job as the great lawyer he is, he always came back to home, you are his home. No matter how tired he was, he always made time for you.

And especially in a moment like this, after such a long day at the courthouse working his ass off, he finally came back to the apartment. You were in the living room, laying on the couch reading one of your favorite novels, "Romeo and Juliet". Once you have heard the door open, you immediately close your book and sit up and walk to the door. 

The sight of your beautiful boyfriend made you smile, just like the first time you met back in college. Matt was exhausted after dealing with some annoying clients and lawyers. He missed the sound of your voice, your scent, your laugh. He missed every single thing about you and couldn't just wait to get home with you. 

Matt never thought he could ever have such a domestic lifestyle, but that changed until you guys started dating. The more time he spent with you, the more he fell in love with you. After everything that had happened with Elektra he swore he would never fall in love with anyone else. You, you had some kind of power over him, he thought. Nobody had made him feel more alive, loved, safe and cared for before, but you did. You gave him everything he could ever want.

When you had moved in with Matt, you both agreed to take turns in cooking. One day you would cook and the other he would. But as he made his way back after a long day, he decided to get takeout for the both of you. Not in the mood to cook dinner tonight.

"Hey sweetheart", Matt kissed you gently on the lips when you went to greet him at the door. You helped him close the door and with the bags of food and set them on the table as he followed right behind you.

"Hi Matty, how was your day?", you say as you wrapped your arms around Matt's waist and he laid his chin on top of your head and his arms around you.

He stayed silent for a bit trying to savor this moment with you. "It was tiring, so much work today hun". He pulled away to caress your cheek with one hand and kiss your forehead. 

You nodded since you didn't want to push him any more knowing that Matt was really tired and he would talk when he was ready. "Come on, let's eat, okay?"

The both of you pulled away from each other's embrace and took the takeout and sat on the couch with a few beers and ate. Matt had asked about your day at work, and you told him about how you got a new position that you've been working hard to get and a raise. He was happy for you and he praised you for working so hard to get what you wanted. "My hard-working girlfriend. Always knows what's best, does what she wants. I think you're way more badass than Daredevil." Matt said while chuckling with you. 

After a while, Matt finally told you how his day in court went. You always felt immense joy when Matt would talk about anything. It was hard for him to open up and him being able to do that with ease with you made your heart swell.

While Matt changed into something more comfortable, you cleaned up a bit. You sat down on the couch waiting for Matt to come back and you were reading once again your book. He laid down on the couch with his head on your lap. "Read to me sweetheart."

Your hand ran through his hair as you nodded. "My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite." 

Matt smiled widely as he realized when you said that it was more directly towards him then just reading it. He thought it was impossible to fall even more deeply in love with you then from what he already was.

Right now is one of the moments in which you could see the advantages of being in love with Matt Murdock. And you would never waste these moments together.

[robotsrawesome64]

Hello dear, I can't believe I found someone who does cod matchups, I'm so happy! Can I get a matchup with a cod guy? If you already have too many requests and don't feel like writing, you can ignore this, don't worry about it ♥️

Female, 25, gemini, enfj.

Personality wise, I got two sides (stereotypical for a gemini, ik). Most of the times, I'm affectionate, teasing, playful and loving but I also get dead serious, cold and slightly intimidating in a blink of an eye if it's needed. I'm basically that meme: I can be your angel or your devil. Extremely ambitious when I want something or when I want to excel at something. Really protective and caring to my dear ones, I'd do anything for them. Unfortunately, I tend to overwork myself in silence. I bottle up everything and walk it off, continue working and caring for others more (but every girlboss needs a kiss on the forehead sometimes). I'm confident most of the time and can stand up for myself no matter what.

In cod I'd definitely be support. My favorites are: König, Keegan, Price, Ghost, Krueger. I'm ok with any theme and any dynamic.

My hobbies are: reading, martial arts training, dancing, playing guitar.

Fun facts: I'm in the medical field. I have a hidden tattoo of a a crescent moon. I'm a dog person. Oh and I speak Romanian - I am from Ro lol and German - still learning this one.

Thank you so much for your time, please take care of yourself and have a great day/night!

☾⋆⁺ARE YOU KIDDING ITS PRIIIIICE MAMAS /j /pos

w: described heat exhaustion symptoms, temporarily ill alone with responsibility, dubcon flirting (fraternization; price is a higher rank ((diff units but still)) ), emotional abandonment/manipulation mention (price) + Unfinished, i had it sitting and more ambition but this all i got gotta prioritize self care like u said >:D, short storyish thing, <3, narrator has beef with price

☾⋆⁺ Price is the uhh, Captain right? The one meant to be giving orders, not taking them? The rest of the team had never seen Price stutter before.

☾⋆⁺ (forgive me if I butcher medical infos lmao, help much appreciated) Just kidding, you were a Captain now too via your transfer into English QARANC as Senior Nurse. Oh, how quickly the time goes. To climb that quickly? Impressive dedication. Not that it was surprising coming from you.

So when Price saw you across the room in the flesh as superior medical staff as part of his brigade for his specialist unit- uh oh. How the hell did you weasel your way in here? It's elite-elite, I mean, what are the chances? He- uh, of course you did, who is he kidding. He was just…insecure.

Mouth ajar, he blinked out of his blank expression with a cough as Gaz tilted his head in the way of him- "Sir?"- and followed Price's gaze back to you.

☾⋆⁺ So when you felt the heat of being watched, and managed to scan the new environment just to see him-? Oh, god. How do I say this: to say you've met before would be an understatement.

~~~

You're flooded back to that familiar field tent as Junior Staff Nurse- that suffocating humidity only enunciated by the heat waves blurring your far-vision of the sand and dried shrubs outside the mouth of the tent.

It was your first job allied with an SAS unit, and you could feel the sweat clinging your shirt to your back. All today had been a sudden intake of…too many people. Sure, you weren't alone, but come late afternoon, hurried triaging then treatment, your superiors had taken their break first, leaving you alone simply to monitor your now stable patients.

I think it's in that silence and break you realize just how much your head has been spinning; how the sun seemed to glint on the sand outside and beam right into your eyes; how your cheeks felt burning and your pulse was hammering. God, how did you not notice that before? You automatically caught yourself to brace back on a plastic table as you steeled yourself, reaching back to fiddle out a plastic bottle of water from that mess of container material.

Focus. You forced yourself to take a drink, gaze glazed over but keeping yourself together.

You felt a break in the light in your periphery causing you to faintly wince. The shadow almost walked straight past, but took a step back to pause at the entrance, bobbing both ways to check the interior. "You alright?" A gruff voice croaked out. Regardless of your strained response, they stepped forward, hesitantly taking in the environmental context clues for your circumstance. "Team leave you?" He double-took at the extent of the sight of you, pausing before doubling back to close the tent entrance to keep in the much needed cool. Head lulled down, all you registered was the dry beige camo of his uniform moving in and out of your vision as he faffed with something.

"D'you mind?" He grumbled lightly, offering his hand to help you sit down on the floor, albeit to lean against the leg of the table. He showed the cloth-covered cold pack in his hand, leaning down to meet your eyes with a furrowed brow. "'You're fine?'" He quoted with a chuff. "Ah, alright. More for me." He got up, pretending to pat the pack against the back of his neck and sighing faux relief.

After a pause he raised a smug brow at you, handing you the pack for the back of your neck, etc. In his motion you note the 'PRICE' embroidered on his jacket.

'Price' stood back, exhaling and crossing his arms, sporting light-hearted dry conversation as he rocked his weight. How long you'd felt like that, what happened, where your superiors were. Just checking it was definitely just heat exhaustion and if he had to stay the 30 minutes for you.

When you rightfully spit him out at his low-key condescending tone he put his hands up in defence, apologizing half-heartedly and trying to distract you with humour and everyday questions. He wasn't the most charming thing, but his noise was a half-decent change to your silent suffering prior.

☾⋆⁺ Lieutenant John Price. He always seemed to end up looking over your shoulder in the time you worked alongside each-other. Commenting something dumb only to be rewarded with your wit, sending the two of you into an endless feedback loop until he's leaning a little too close and, uh- check yourself, Lieutenant. Looked a little too fraternal there.

☾⋆⁺ Sometimes it was hard to relate to the other specialists. You'd both graduated your trainings much quicker than your peers, both exceptionally diligent and good at what you do. But every star has to have a weakness, right?

Something about each-others company felt natural, easy. Unintentionally, you both tended to scare off folks. But not each-other. Two sharp-edged puzzle pieces. Lounging around on base, finally on downtime, he'd plant himself next to you. Drowning out the chatter of others, he'd lean over and prop his foot up on his knee, staring at what book you were reading. What today? He reeked of potential snark until you looked at him. Price's face instinctively softened before collected himself with a hand along his hair, trying not to smile too obviously for the others in the room.

☾⋆⁺ One victory later and you couldn't make it out drinking for celebrations due to finishing writing up some boring documentations. Looking both ways, Price snuck out of the event early to return back and find you. He knew where you'd be by now. He always stood at doorways, never in, until the familar tread of boots on dried grass broke your focus. This felt like the first time you both were actually alone. The extent of your intimacy so far was staring for a thousand words a little too long when others weren't looking.

He strutted in the finally otherwise vacant tent, presence arrogantly, blatantly hovering over you as you continued to work. To the tune of- 'c'mon.' He gently tried his hand on your cheek, tilting his head to stare as he rubbed a circle there with his thumb.

If it didn't work immediately he'd take out his phone, humming an incomprehensible tune before the tinny music played from the phones speaker- music you love you'd mentioned in passing. He swayed and mumbled the lyrics (?), stepping a little closer to lower his hand to yours for you to take- to dance with you all the way into the night.

☾⋆⁺ Which makes your throat tighten even more in the present day once the focus(/panic) had passed and he's finally laying stable on the care bed by you.

The man who left you. Abandoned you in the name of work and 'greater causes'. A relationship that would've gotten him fired, yes, but his snap decision and the coldness in his eyes as he plainly announced it had sat rightfully boiling in your blood since.

FIN

~~but i am curious, like as u work together more would u fall back into some kinda tension?? weird asides? him taking yr orders? emotional reconciliation? or is he dead-dead to you?? IM INVESTED ~price by goldeagleactual on PT

[satocidal]

𓂂 ˚ ☆ ꙳ * ࣭ 404! Lovesick! — Yuuji Itadori

A/n: thank you to @myrand0mfand0mbl0g for requesting it, hope it did what you wanted justice baby 😭

warnings: mentions of blood and death, fluff

Yuuji typically yearns for you and every single touch. In some sense to say, he’s touch starved maybe— in all others, he’s absolutely in love with you. With every morning kiss, every good night whisper, every breakfast he’d burnt for you, every fate he’d saved his money for—all and none, he felt sick at his heart.

-

You swallowed hard, the wounds were deep.

“Sorry,” he muttered—the smile bashful, you simply stared, beyond pissed.

Not a single word escaped you as you cleaned everything, every single wound—heart aching with each of his whimpers and whines.

“He did a great job, for reference,” your eyes panned onto the older man that stood in the far corner of the room—Nanami Kento, the one you trusted to save Yuuji from most harm.

A vexed look you passed onto him, a certain fear of both the men incensed the air.

An attempt was all it was, Kento knew of those angry glances and cowered winces when you tended to Yuuji, so simply small attempts he made as the boy’s mentor to save him from the worse part of a mission going bad.

“I did,” Yuuji beamed, “the technique Todo and I were-” words cut short, too short, he looked down- embarrassed.

“Y/n,” Kento’s voice reached you quick, a small smile playing on his lips, “Don’t be too hard on him, at least today,”

A severed nod from you, a gulp from Yuuji.

“Babe, listen I didn’t even-”

“-shut up,” you snapped, eyes boring into his—he loved the way you embraced each other, he always did love these moments.

He knew how it racked your heart, his body covered half in blood, he wasn’t even usually sure if it was his or not—he knew just the way you trembled when you dealt with him, he knew the way you wanted to slap him silly when he hugged you despite your clean clothes—but he knew that he loved you, and for you, he’d do it all the time, over and over.

A thick finger caressed your cheek, the tear rolling down your face wiped away, “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“You have so many cuts,” you mused, “so many injuries Yuuji, why? Why do you even bother?”

“For you, always,”

You bit back your words, all so harsh, for a boy as sweet as him, often you felt deceiving, as if you didn’t deserve him.

“I’m sorry angel I just,” a sharp inhale, “I’m sorry, I just love you so much and I can’t…it’s like, my duty to protect you right?”

A sharp exhale, yours.

“Yuuji Itadori,” a smile finally adorned your lips, never one to be able to resist, especially when he’d remind you of his love, “you’re an idiot—you’re simply alive because Nanami protects you in missions and here,”

“Your idiot though,”

And right outside, he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but Kento loved every bit of your conversation with his student, every bit of you and him.

All of this work is entirely original and my own—please refrain from copying or reposting.

Likes and Reblogs highly appreciated!!