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kiwiikato · 10 months ago

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mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter One

masterlist

the sound of feet slammed against the floor. a yell tearing the air. the city lights flashed around their eyes as they held their head in their hands. the body lunging forward with as much force mustered.

his breaths were shaky as he fell to the ground. his body trying to compose itself as he rushed away from where the KDF were attacking the kaiju. the kaiju he could not defeat. this wasn't his first time running away from the fight.

he didn't even want to be there. he just wanted to play baseball, but this is what he gets for coming back to japan to help his father. his father that wasn't even there, that lectured him, that left him and his mother alone. he hated this.

he knew it was wrong of him to run from the scene but he couldn't avoid it. he held his left arm that now stung with pain, running to his motorbike that sat hidden in the dark.

"ken, the KDF seem to be using excessive force. shall i plot a course back to the battle?" the voice of mina rang through his ears. his eyes following drones that flew by him. "you know what, imma punch out for the night. let the KDF handle it." his smirk that graced his sharp features quickly morphed into a frown as a call from his dad showed on the inside of his helmet.

"right on time, here comes the guilt trip." he sighed. "he's already left 10 messages." mina's robotic voices spoke out as calls of his dad flashed on his screen. "nope! no thanks, i've had my butt kicked enough tonight. please silence all calls, mina. i need some me time." he said focusing on the road ahead of him.

"after your interview with miss wakita, of course." mina briefly mentioned. his figure shot up quickly while still riding. "wait! with the same lady from the press conference?" "yes ken, the same lady from the press conference. and your an hour late." he could only shift down, but looked up and sped up his bike, zooming past cars as he switched lanes like nothing.

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"i heard you're really good at avoiding hard questions." ami's voice spoke up in the dim lighted room, as kenji only slurped at the noodles in front of him. "mmm! these noodles are killer. want some?" the irony of the situation being him avoiding the statement. "i'm okay. thanks. mind if i record?" her soft voice spoke up as she lifted up phone in front of her.

"mm do your thing." he said, uncaring of the situation. "so you've had an impressive career." she started off. "gold glove. silver slugger. tea?" he spoke up picking up the kettle near him as she dismissed his offer with a wave of her hand. "and yet you've never won a championship." she responded back.

he could only put down the kettle and let out a breathy chuckle. "wow. right for the throat." "it's just an observation." she said calmly. "'just an observation.' sure. you know, there are lots of great players who never won titles." his voice laced with defense as her words. "yes. and some say you're better than all of them."

"some?" he could only chuckle while pulling his cup away from his lips. "you have seen me play, right?" he said leaning in tauntingly. it wasn't hard to deny the cockiness that came with his words. his pride was biggest feature besides the skills he boasted about.

"420 batting average. 624 stolen bases." ami responded sitting confidently, her hand lifting in the air, "but?" kenji inquired as he stretched out the word. "but personal stats don't win championships." "so my ego is holding me back?" he assumed as he poured rhetorical sauce from a cup into his noodles, all while aggravated.

"i didn't say that. and to be honest, i'm not here to discuss stats." her voice was loud, laced with confidence but slight annoyance at his behavior. "then why are we discussing stats?" "because players are more comfortable talking about stats then themselves." she remarked back.

"hey i'm happy to talk about me." "great! because i want to know why. why you avoid most interviews, why you keep your teammates at a distance, and why you left a city that loves you to..." her strong tone slowly went quiet as she saw what the man in front of her was doing.

"you know, your supposed to dip your noodles in the sauce." he could only look at her, his eyes peering out from his sunglasses. "i like doing things my way." he could only tauntingly pour the sauce into the noodles. "okay, let's remind. earlier, i asked about your mother."

the interview slowly passed by as he could only zone out from the questions being asked. he felt himself disassociate from the conversation, his whole body on autopilot till the moment he was back home. it was the one place he could relax and get away from those that pestered him.

he could only stand in the holographic life size park that mina loaded onto the room as his body moved forward, swinging his bat as it slammed against the ball. he could only watch as it shot back into the sky at his force. "yeah! that's what i'm talking about!" he yelled excited. it was short lived as pain erupted from his shoulder, reaching out to hold it from the pain.

the robotic sphere known as mina flew down, scanning his body. "ken, it appears that you have sprained your rotator cuff during the battle." the hologram of the park faded away, resulting back into the usual metal room. he walked away as she trailed behind him through the doors. "yup, that's what i get for saving lives."

"ken, it is your duty to save lives." mina said as she hovered behind him. "yeah well i prefer to save my arm and leave the kaijus to the KDF." he said as he walked towards a long couch. "you know what happens when you leave it to the KDF." he could only chuck mockingly as he sat down.

"yeah. i have a double-double, a chocolate shake, and a good nights sleep. now stop trying to be my mother." he said staring mina down. "i am as i was programmed." he only looked down after, tapping his foot against the bottom of his couch.

a cabinet popped out, almost a cooler, showing drinks inside that rolled around. he could only scoff in shock, looking up surprised. "coconut water?!? mina, did you throw my fancy fizzy drinks?" he interrogated.

"healthy choices, healthy body." he could only sigh as he opened a can of coconut water. he took a sip only to clear his throat in disgust. "mmm, taste just like a fart." he said annoyed. "ken, i wonder if you might consider taking a break."

"from drinking farts?" "from baseball." kenji could only look up at mina in shock. "give up the one thing that puts a smile on my face? sorry. no. tv please." mina listened to his command, the tv turning on in response.

the screen showcased the scene from where he had fought the kaiju from above. "more destruction today as the KDF and ultraman battles neronga. as one witness told us..." the news reporters voice quieted down as the news now showed an older lady.

"i love ultraman. always have. he's done so much good in the past." "thank you citizen." kenji told the tv as he rained the coconut water in a cheer. the older lady began to talk. "but he's been gone for months. and now that he's back, it's like he doesn't really care. i mean look at this."

kenji could only sit and stare. "i didn't even want this gig. and now everybody's coming at me." he said getting ready to turn off the tv. until something caught his ear. "but it wasn't all bad. i thought the situation was a lost cause when ultraman bolted from the scene. until someone else came in."

kenji could only stop in shock, confused at what she was referencing. "they came out of nowhere, helping to stop neronga. i don't know who it was but they were just as big as ultraman himself. thank you new hero, thank you."

he stared at the tv as it displayed scenes of someone fighting neronga. 'who was this? where were they this entire time?' another metal hero ran towards neronga, slamming into the kaijus body as they wrestled them down. grabbing its horn, they pushed it down, the kaiju roaring out as a laser shot from its mouth.

the new person summoned a shield as they jumped away from the attack. they could only crouch down in response, jumping into the air, only to land on its back. they grabbed their horn once again, small cracks showing from the force of the heroes grip.

wrapping their arms around its torso, they lifted neronga up. kenji could only watch as they flipped them over with intense strength, body slamming neronga to an already destroyed building, knocking them unconscious. the hero could only stand up proudly, only to jump away from the cameras.

the footage ended there as he stared in disbelief. "who is that? where the fuck did they come from mina?!" he yelled as he turned the tv off, his hands raking through his hair. as far as he knew, he was the only hero here. the only person that had this duty passed down to since his fathers injury. right?

mina could only stare at his face of shock, examining the situation. "ken, please calm down. letting your emotions react this way will cause you to undergo stress, affecting your strained shoulder."

he could only huff out intense breaths, slowly calming down as he moved to sit back down on his couch. 'what was that? why am i barely hearing about them now? why did they only show up after i left the scene? do they work for the KDF?' his head produced question after question, trying to think of what could have been happening.

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soft footsteps walked up stairs till they stopped in front of a door. the source of the noise raised their hand, knocking on the door there times. the door opened slightly, leaving a small crack open. the person behind the door took notice of who knocked. quickly the door opened, shushing them inside the room. "good job on finishing your task (y/n), i am proud of the progress you have made."

they could only smile softly at the praise, giving them a bow as a sign of their gratitude. "thank you professor sato. i could not have come this far if it was not for your help." the pair sat down, slowly getting lost in new tactics that they could use for the next battle.

#ultraman rising #ultraman #kenji sato #ken sato x reader #ken sato #professor sato

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kwilquib · 24 days ago

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Naori

Rei (🐥) X Male reader (📖)

word count: 3.2k

T.W.: This story contains themes of terminal illness, talks about death, and emotional distress.

A/N: Played around with the formatting, formatted for mobile reading.

"I'm home," you call out into the dark room, eerily quiet, starved of light. The dark was unusual, unexpected—unnatural.

Few steps forward, each footfall weighed unease. You found yourself in the living room

"Darling?" Again your voice is swallowed by the empty living room.

Then—suddenly—light floods the space, blinding you. Before your eyes adjust, sharp pop cracks through the silence.

"Surprise!!"

A familiar voice rings out. You turn, heart pounding, only to see her peeking out from behind the kitchen counter—apron still on, gloves half-removed, hair loosely tied back. Her laughter, that unmistakable laugh, spills into the air, filling the once-eerie silence with warmth.

"For what?" The tension in your chest eases, you smile, bewildered, as you continue toward the couch.

She pulls off her gloves, untying the apron with practiced ease before rounding the counter to meet you. "For the birthday, of course."

"Birthday? That's tomorrow?" Bewildered but exhausted, you drop onto the couch.

Rei follows, sinking beside you before resting her head on your lap. "Yeah, I wanted to surprise you."

You blink down at her, still trying to piece together her logic. "Yeah, you did... but it's your birthday."

She grins smugly, eyes oozing with pride—like she'd ‘got’ you.

“So, what did you cook?” You play along.

“Surprise me.”

She hands you her phone, screen already open to a delivery app, order page waiting.

You glance back at her, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

She shrugs. "I used up all my energy deciding what to cook."

You exhale a small laugh, shaking your head. dialing your orders, "We've been married for how many years?"—a rhetorical question—"and I still haven’t figured out how your mind works."

"You’re just not reading hard enough."

Before you can protest, she reaches up, fingers threading through your hair, and pulls you down.

Her lips meet yours—soft, familiar, and laced with quiet laughter.

Excitedly, you blindly reach for the paper bag beside you, pulling out a stuffed toy, small, but enough to cover her face. “It’s a bit early, but…” You present it to her, holding it up beside her face. "Here. Doesn't it look like you?"

A yellow duck, its tiny fabric twintails mirroring hers.

She squints at it, then at you. The resemblance is uncanny—even she can’t deny it. Instead, she pouts.

You chuckle, gently patting her hair. She naturally leans into your palm, settling there like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

"So, what do you want to do for tomorrow?"

She blinks, off guarded by the question.

"I requested a day off, of course. Simple picnic by the river?"

She scrunches her nose. "No… too many people exist these days.”

“Then… fancy dinner, just you and me?”

She snorts, eyes half-lidded with amusement. "You can only say that if you actually have money to spend."

"Ouch." You clutch your chest in mock offense. "Dinner at home it is then, let's—no, I'll cook for you this time."

She smirks. "Is that a mating display? Because it's working."

“Is that so?” You lean down, internding a gentle peck, but she surges forward, her lip’s hunger devouring any softness you’d planned. The kiss deepens, urgent and consuming, until you both pull apart, breathless and flushed.

She smiles—a triumphant, knowing curve of her lips. This time she really got you. “You think I was joking?”

Rising from your lap, she holds your gaze, her eyes sly, alluring. With fluid grace, she settled back into you, stradling your thighs. Her arms are already working your belt.

“You’re tired. Relax” She kisses you again, just as drawing as before— a pull you can’t resist. When she finally breaks away, her breath touches your face as she whispers, “My gift to you. I need to remind you why you need to pay the bills.”

Her hands are already done with your pants, pulling down your briefs, releasing your cock. Now her hands stroke your length.

“Rei…” your body surrenders.

Fully erect in her grasp. Rei shifts, lifting her hips, her fingers setting aside panties beneath her skirt. She guides your tip pressing in into her slick folds, teasing just at her entrance—coating you with her arousal, warm and wet.

“Fuck… Rei…”

Satisfied with her teasing, she lowers herself, hips sinking down to yours. Her walls clench around you, tight and welcoming, enveloping your cock in heat. She pauses, letting the moment to settle, her breath hitch faintly. Then, with a slow roll of her hips, she begins to grind, drawing you deeper.

Small whimpers from her lips are enough to fill the room. Her hands cradle your face, drawing you closer to her lips, muting her moan as you kiss. ”Give it to me darling.” her voice full of need. Her forehead pressed against yours, her breaths hot and ragged. “Fill me up….”

Her pace quickens, hips grinding with desperate need, her walls tightening around you. “Rei…” The pressure builds fast, the nearing you limit faster than you expect. She nods, breathless—”Do it.” One final thrust shatters you both: she cries out, trembling as she clenches around you, and you release inside her, a sharp, dizzying rush.

Panting, she slumps against you, her body pressed close, the air heavy with your mingled breaths. Then, a soft laugh rumbles in her chest. She lifts her head, meeting your puzzled look with a mischievous smile. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect us both to be in such a rush.”

Her point draws a grin from you, and you lean in toward her lips.

“You missed,” she teases, tilting her head just out of reach. “Try again.”

Rei. Your wife. The love of your life.

As eccentric as she was, she was the sunshine in your every day.

Life wasn’t perfect. But with her, every day was.

Almost a year has passed since then.

You swore to do your best, to stay with her for the rest of her life, to stay with her until the end, to stay with her until her final year.

Timed by her Ill fate.

—-

You walk—dragging your steps from work to the hospital, pausing just before the door. You take a deep breath, forcing a half-smile onto your face. A routine you've practiced in a year’s time.

You slide the door open.

Rei sits on the bed, pillows stacked behind her back—an effort to ease the pain with comfort. Her gaze is distant, locked onto something far beyond the window. Her frame looks even smaller against the sterile white sheets, the IV lines hanging high trailing down to her arm like threads tethering her to this world. A headset covers her ears, a barrier between her and reality.

The hospital room now is the usual yet unexpected—unnatural.

"Rei…" you call, waving just at the edge of her vision.

"Shit!" A muttered curse, barely audible but meant to be heard. She doesn’t turn to you. Instead, she pulls out her phone, avoiding your face. "Didn’t I tell you to knock?!"

"Ah, sorry! I—" You hold onto your smile. "Have you eaten yet?"

She clicks her tongue, impatient, clearly letting you know she’s annoyed. With a sigh, she pulls her headphones down to her neck.

"The laundry is over there. Take it and leave." She gestures toward the foot of the bed.

You step forward to grab the basket—only for a cloth to be thrown over your head.

It doesn’t hurt. It shouldn’t. Yet—.

You peel the fabric off and toss it into the basket, looking up to meet her glare. Her eyes are sharp, dark, as if warning that she would throw harder if not for her condition.

She quickly turns away after meeting your eyes.

The best you can offer is a smile.

What you feel is insignificant compared to what she’s going through.

"Then I’ll get going so you can rest," your smile widening—perhaps to cover the pain swelling in your eyes. "Keep fighting, okay? Your schedule for your next treatment is soon."

She turns away, curling into her blankets.

"You don’t have to tell me," she mutters. "That’s all I can do. Fight… only to die later."

The words sting, finally cracking your false smile. But worse than the words themselves is the fact that you have no comfort to offer her. Nothing that would make a difference.

All you can do is walk away.

"Wait." Her voice stops you just as you reach the door. Still turned away, she adds, "Leave my allowance in the drawer."

You check your wallet, counting the bills. In the end, you leave most of the money, only keeping just enough for yourself.

Just before leaving, you hesitate.

"Hey, Rei—" But before you can finish, she’s already on the phone.

"Can you believe my husband?!" she complains, voice laced with frustration. "He’s the worst. Can’t he be a bit more considerate? Everytime, I have to explain to him… ugh, all men are the same."

You stand there for a second longer.

Then, quietly "Ah… sorry. I’m going home."

And you close the door behind you.

—-

“I’m ho—” The words die in your throat.

The dim home greets you in silence. The same home that once brimmed with warmth, with laughter, with the light of the person who made it all feel alive.

Now, it stands hollow, as usual, as expected, yet it feels unnatural.

You drop onto the couch—the same couch where the two of you used to laze around on slow weekends, tangled in blankets and each other.

~~~~

“If I stare hard enough, you think the meaning of life will show up?”

Rei’s voice, soft and amused, drifts through your memory. She lies by the couch, absently staring at the ceiling, her expression caught between curiosity and boredom.

“What are you up to now?” you ask, approaching with two cups of coffee.

She straightened up with your voice, reaching for the mug with both hands. You sit beside her, your eyes drifting toward the morning view beyond the window.

She takes a careful sip, then pauses. “…Why are you staring?” A suspicious look crosses her face. “If this kills me, you’re paying for my funeral.”

She drinks anyway, watching you over the rim of her mug.

“Not bad.”

“That’s it? I paid extra for this,” you huff, taking a sip from her cup just to confirm. “My co-workers swore this was “‘the’” coffee.”

“Why are you pretending like there’s a difference?”

~~~~

And she's right, there wasn’t. As now, you sit in the same spot, sipping the same coffee, in the same silence, the only thing illuminating the room is the dim glow of a single lamp.

You don’t need a bright room. It’s just an extra expense.

You don’t need the internet, or cable, or dinner.

You finish your coffee muted in its taste, convincing yourself it’s enough.

You don’t need a meal.

You don’t need—

You close your eyes, gripping the empty mug in your hands.

…You don’t need to think about it.

You shift your focus to your phone, scrolling through your expenses. Your balance barely hovers above zero. A quiet sigh of relief escapes you—at least for now, you’ve made it through. Your abstinence hasn’t been for nothing.

Your eyes scan the list, searching for anything you can shave off.

Hospital bills? Out of the question.

Bus fare? Maybe you could walk some distance.

Groceries? You’ve been stretching meals thinner each week—maybe instant noodles again.

Allowance?

A significant amount. Rei would always ask for it during every visit. You gave it without question, but even now, you don’t understand—why would a patient need that much money anyway?

No. You quickly shake off the thought. Now isn't the time for that. You’re just exhausted. The constant headaches aren’t helping, making your mind wander into places it shouldn't go.

You close your eyes again, hoping sleep will clear your thoughts as easily as it dims your vision.

Sleep—it’s your only escape.

Clear from problems.

Clear from worries.

Clear from responsibilities.

Clear from exhaustion.

Clear from her—

R e i , W h e n w i l l y o u d i e ?

The thought jolts you awake, scared.

Not because it was a nightmare to be afraid of.

But because you’re terrified it might have been a dream.

A fantasy that someday you fear you might say out loud.

—-

A buzz from the edge of your desk pulls you from work. Even from afar you recognize the sender instantly.

You press on your temples attempting to press back your splitting head. Skipping lunch to save money—bad idea. You regret it, but regrets won’t help. The afternoon is only halfway through, and you still have hours to go before you can rest.

With a sigh as you tilt your head back, resting your eyes for a second.

Rei.

~~~~

“I thought of you”

~~~~

You relive the time from before this ailing plight, when a single message from her was enough to push you through work.

You open your phone, yearning for that illusion.

“Just bring me a cake later, I don't want to hear any of your superficial cheering.”

Your heart sinks deep with her demand, more disappointed to yourself, expecting something more. Regardless you move forward, you had no choice, even if you had you couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't.

—-

You find yourself walking the same hospital corridor again.

As you near the nurses' station, their voices drift into earshot.

“…Have you seen Mrs. Naoi’s husband?”

“He never fails to visit her. Tragic, she’s so young yet, constant treatment…”

“She just did one, out of all days it has to be at her birthday—”

They stop when they notice you.

You offer a small, awkward smile. “For my wife… Is her treatment done? I’m a bit early today.”

One of the nurses brightens. “She just got transferred back to her room. I can let her know you’re here—”

“No,” you cut in gently. “Let her rest. I’ll wait outside.”

Your steps halt just before her door, mistakenly left slightly open.

Tying to close the door, your eyes naturally peered inside.

Rei lies on her side, facing the wall. Her breathing, slow, serene. Asleep, you assume. Sapped by the therapy, lost in some dream removed from her decaying sitch.

You start to pull the door shut, slowly so as to not make a sound.

“It hurts.”

Your hands freeze on the handle.

A voice, you easily could’ve missed if it was not from inside, if it was not from pain, if it was not from hers.

You should close the door. Let her rest. Pretend you didn’t hear.

But before you can step away, a quiet laugh follows. Careful. Restrained. Afraid.

“Ah… that's annoying, even laughing now feels painful”

You know she would want you to ignore it, to walk away like you heard nothing. But your body refuses to listen. Instead, you step inside.

“You know what's more annoying? My husband.”

Rei shifts slightly, sitting up, still unaware of your presence. Her gaze is fixed downward, her fingers curled around the small stuffed toy you gave her on her birthday.

“He looks so pathetic, it's so annoying.”

She exhales shakily, as if saying the words aloud solidifies the reality she's been trying to swallow.

“It makes me mad, I can't help but throw a tantrum because I know the reason why that is… Me. His ailing wife.”

Her thumb idly traces the plush toy’s fabric.

"I know I’ve been mean. Selfish. Asking for everything, even though I'll leave." She speaks to the toy, her voice trembling. "I’m a bad wife, aren’t I? Making him suffer with me."

You see her forced smile wavers, then fades completely.

"When I learned about my illness, I first thought of the future… Not mine… His."

She tightens her grip on the toy. "And I decided. I’m going to be the absolute worst. So that when it’s over, he’ll think—" a breath, a pause, then—

"'Ah, I’m glad it’s finally over.'"

A grim joke, yet she laughs. Tears slipped down her cheeks, soaking into the plush fabric.

"I want him to enjoy the rest of his life. Not be a widower."

Her voice is barely above a whisper, cracking under the weight of her confession. "Pathetic, isn’t it? Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t look him in the eyes… otherwise, I’d break."

She buries her face into the toy, once again Rei obstructs her face from your sight, as she had always done all this time.

"But… It's working. Little by little, I can feel it—he’s losing his feelings for me."

She clutches the plush tighter, sobs muffled against the fabric.

"So please." Her voice is strained, desperate. "Please… keep this a secret between us."

Before she can say another word, you rush forward, as you try to snatch the toy away.

"Rei!!"

Your voice comes out sharp, raw with emotion. Are you angry? Hurt? Betrayed? You don’t know. You don’t care.

All you know is that your wife—the love of your life—is breaking right in front of you.

And you refuse to let her do it alone. Not after what you've heard. Not anymore.

She flinches as you step forward, quickly turning away.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Knock before you come in!”

She still won’t look at you. Even now, when you finally understand why.

“What you just said—”

"I don’t need the cake anymore." Her arms tighten around the stuffed animal. "Just leave. You’re disturbing my rest."

If she’s going to keep playing pretend, then so will you.

“If you're just going to stand there, then just leave already”

You ignore her. Instead, you step forward and wrap your arms around her from behind, holding her close.

"Listen carefully." Your voice is steady, even as everything inside you trembles. "This is what you wanted to hear, right?”

“‘I hate you.’”

“‘Why are you still here?’”

“‘Just die already.’"

You press your forehead against her shoulder, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I’m begging you.’”

She shatters.

So do you.

Tears fall. Her grip tightens. Crying echoes through the small hospital room. Emotion flows in choked sobs, in words neither of you fully mean but can’t stop from spilling.

"I wanna die right now…"

"Okay."

"You’re the worst."

"I see."

"Let go of me. Just leave already."

"Sure."

Neither of you move.

At that moment, it feels as if the time has turned to what was a year ago.

Maybe because that was the day when your wife—Rei’s greatest shenanigans—came to an end.

—-

You step into the house, slipping off your shoes at the entrance.

"I'm home," you call out, your voice carrying into the quiet. The afternoon light filters through the windows, painting the walls in warm, golden hues—soft, familiar, inviting.

The scene of your home, usual, expected, natural.

You can't help but take a deep breath out of relief.

Your feet move on instinct, following a path you’ve walked countless times before. But this time, you stop just short.

A small shrine sits before you.

The plush duck sits at the center, its small form nearly lost beneath the weight of her headphones. You remember how you pout whenever you tell her it looked like her. Now, it leans against something held close in its embrace, something smooth, something quiet.

You pat the duck’s head, just as you once did with her. But it doesn’t fit your hand the same way. It doesn’t lean into your touch, doesn’t ask for more. It only sits there—steady, unmoving, permanent.

You exhale slowly, a smile tugging at your lips—gentle, aching.

"I'm home, Rei."

A/n: Part of suchsweetstories' prompt event! This one's for Valentine Drifter. (This is the smut version.)

#kpop fanfic #kpop smut #smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #ive smut #rei smut #naoi rei #ive #rei #male reader smut

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joestarfoundation · 1 year ago

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dom female reader headcanons + imagine

your babyboy wakes up every morning, eager to please you. you are his everything, his entire world revolves around you<3 he loves the feeling of submission and the thought of you being in control. It's not just a kink for him, it's a lifestyle

you can see the excitement in his puppy eyes when you enter the room, dressed in your favorite leather outfit. he knows what's coming next, and he can't wait. as you walk towards him, he kneels down in front of you, ready to serve and devour your delicious cunt<3

he loves when you use him for your pleasure. whether it's making him worship your body or using him as a human furniture, he is more than happy to fulfill your desires. he finds joy in knowing that you are satisfied and that he has pleased you<3

one of his favorite things is when you take him shopping for new lingerie. he loves the feeling of you picking out what he will wear, knowing that it's not just for show, but for your pleasure! he takes great pride in wearing what you have chosen for him, and it makes him feel even more submissive:((

he also loves when you take him out in public, holding his leash and showing everyone who is in charge. he loves the feeling of being owned by you, his goddess, and being on display for everyone to see. it makes him feel special and wanted

tell him he's your good little slut and feminize him, although he doesn't accept it, he has fantasized more than once about you dressing him up in pretty, girly outfits. he knows that you would take such good care of him and make him feel beautiful and desired, much more than he already is<3

slap him, peg him, degrade him, ride him, praise him... practically use him

you hummed as you looked for some strap that could break the little naughty whore you had behind you, he had been very whimsy all this time that you were gone

he even touched himself without your permission, you found him in the room you both shared, humping his hand while making a moaning noise like a bitch and he seemed to have forgotten you were right there

"oh my god what did i do, im so sorry mommy..." he sobbed when you heard his voice from inside of the closet

"what is this my babyboy?" you asked while staring at him

he blushed heavily but still tried to find the words, "i uhm... im sorry about earlier, i was really confused and all, it won't happen again i promise-"

"didnt we agreed that if i caught you doing something like this again you would be punished?"

he tried hard to say anything but you didn't give him any chance "well baby, i'm not gonna forgive this..."

he stared at you in fear and he slowly took off your skirt, "so what are you gonna do now?" he asked with big, childish eyes

"do you wanna know what's gonna happen now?" you ask with an evil smile on your face

he nodded nervously while looking down, he didnt understand why you had come here to punish him, all he did was touching himself!:((

"bad boys deserve to be punished and take up in the ass mommy's huge cock"

now, at this moment you had a big dildo tied to your waist, probably one of the biggest ones you had used with him. you tried to close your legs a little and press the base of the fake cock against your crotch to get some stimulation, you imagined that this time it would be like the other times, him lying on his back, with his legs open, your dildo in his ass, and your hands jerking off his neglected cock<33

he loved being dominated by you after all, no woman ever made him feel more wanted and horny than you :3

but now, you couldn't imagine it anymore. he stood there completely naked and scared:(

"baby, just let me put this thing in your butt and i'll leave you alone, it wont hurt much, i promise..."

he shook his head. completely scared and helpless:(((

"just trust me baby... you want mommy to fuck you, don't you?"

the question had been rhetorical, but you knew exactly what he wanted. he stared at you with those huge eyes, shivering from fear and need, "yes please mommy, i-i need you to please me.."

"good boy<33" you whispered and moved closer to him. "close your eyes and wait for mommy to fuck your sweet asshole :3"

he followed your orders like a good boy and he closed his eyes waiting for you to get ready to slide your fake cock into his ass<3

"mhmmm-m-mommy" his cute moans, echoing in the silence of the night, helped you to relax a bit before going through with it

"ready baby?" you asked as you pushed more of the toy towards his hole and started sliding it slowly inside of him

"uhhuh-hhuh-mm-mmm" he answered in a whisper as you continued to slide your big plastic dick in and out of his ass, occasionally stopping to put pressure on the tip of the cock

"your mommy loves how tight you are babyboy~ fuck- could you call me by my name sweetheart?" you asked while pushing the dildo deeper inside of him

"mhmm hmmm- y/n!! y/n baby<3" he moaned in excitement, he was trying his best to make his tiny asshole take more of the giant dildo inside of it, but he was struggling. his cute face was red from embarrassment and lust, you could tell he was really enjoying every second of it though<33

"oh my god mo...mommyyy!! i cant hold it, its coming!" he cried out loudly

the combination of his cries and you slowly moving the dildo in and out of his ass filled the room with soft moaning sounds <33

you finally stopped the slow motion movements and decided to speed up a little bit, slowly slid the big strap inside of him, each inch pushing further inside of him, deeper and deeper until it pressed against his prostate, stimulating him with gentle vibrations until he reached another orgasm:(((

he collapsed onto the floor, breathing heavily while you removed the strap from his ass. you smiled down at him and knelt down to pet his hair, smiling widely at the sight of your babyboy getting pleasure from such things

a minute later he turned around and hugged you tightly, "thanks mommy... i love you so much <3" he said in between kisses on your cheek you smiled, "of course you do baby, i love you too <3" you replied and kissed him passionately on the lips

then, with nothing else left to do you both fell asleep wrapped up in each others arms:)

629 notes · View notes

xbellaxcarolinax · 2 years ago

Text

Futile Devices

Miguel O'Hara x civilian f!reader

Summary: The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain.

Word Count: 8.2k (A behemoth of a fic, I'm so sorry guys)

Warnings: FWB, language, angst, reader is totally in love with Miguel, Miguel being a bit of an ass, probably a tad toxic? SMUT, p in v (no protection), cum play, low-key breeding kink? Like super low-key. Oral (f receiving). Miguel climbing through windows. Idk why I'm obsessed with that thought lmfao I make him climb through windows every chance I get. Idiots in love. Probably a rushed ending, sorry!

Thanks to @whatthefishh for beta-reading. Partly inspired by this.

Also, this is mega ultra cliche, we all know they're gonna end up together, so just enjoy the ride! It's not the destination, it's the journey 😌 Hope you guys enjoy, and if you do, pls let me know what you think! I love reading your comments!

MDNI pls.

...

It was always a mission getting to Miguel's office.

Headquarters wasn't built to accommodate civilians, the winding pathways and corridors a danger if one wasn't too careful.

You had to be extra careful.

You hurried toward Miguel's office, heels clicking against clean tiled floors as you dodged a fuck ton of spider people and the inescapable attention of one annoying Peter Parker.

"Come on," Peter Parker number two hundred tried his luck again, "just one date. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go."

"No." You rolled your eyes, swatting him with the manilla folder in your hands like you would a fly.

“Look, all I’m saying is you should give me a shot. I’m funny.”

“So is every other Peter Parker I’ve encountered.”

“I’m different.”

“I doubt it.”

He deflated, keeping up with your quick steps. “Who doesn’t like funny guys?”

“Me.”

“Sure,” he stretched the word out, unconvinced, "so if not funny guys then what? The ones with sticks up their asses, like Miguel?" He snorted with a shake of his head. You knew it was a sort of rhetorical question but you couldn’t help swallowing thickly, your hands gripping the folder a little too tightly.

Yeah. Something like that.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach when Peter Parker two hundred raised his brows at your silence. So maybe he did want an answer.

"Nah, there's no way. I'll try again tomorrow." He smiled, shooting a web out in some random direction and swinging off toward the floor above.

Fuck. That was close.

You breathed a sigh of relief, loosening your fingers over the folder before quickly hurrying toward your destination.

You pressed your watch against the sensor outside of Miguel's office, waiting for the metal door to slide open. It didn't. You tried again. Still nothing. Again. It wouldn't budge.

"Ugh, come on, Miguel!" You banged the door with a tiny fist as if that would make a difference, "open up!"

Lyla appeared suddenly, her sprite-like form circling your head once before she faced you.

"You probably shouldn't go in there," she warned, "he's in a…mood."

"He’s always in a mood," your hands were on your hips now, the manilla folder crinkling further in your hand, "I need to report a couple of grievances—"

"Mmmmmm, I'm sure that's the last thing he wants to hear right now, Miss HR." God you hated when they called you that. You rolled your eyes, swatting her away with the folder which did nothing, of course, and pressed your watch against the sensor.

"That's not gonna work, honey."

"So let me in."

"Promise to be nice?"

"To who?" You snorted, "You or Miguel?"

"Me," Lyla grinned, adjusting her heart-shaped glasses, "forget Miguel."

You sighed, cracking a smile, "Lyla, would you please let me into Miguel's office?" The Ai made a noise of approval, comically saluting you before granting you access.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya." She sang, disappearing from your sight.

You sighed. Miguel's shifting moods were nothing new to you—not anymore. Back when you both worked at Alchemax, he was passive and less quick to anger. But that seemed a lifetime ago.

Life progresses. People change.

“Mig?” You called out, peering up toward his solitary platform. You could hear the soft hisses of machinery, the yellow glow of Miguel’s holo screens illuminating the area above like a radiant star.

He didn’t answer.

“Miguel,” you tried again, “we have some things to discuss.” You slapped the manilla folder against your hand as if he’d recognize the sound of formal complaints filed within the last week.

The platform began to descend after a moment, and you breathed a sigh of relief as his figure came into view. His shoulders were stiff, his body rigid as he swiped through the yellow screens.

“I told Lyla not to let anyone in.” His voice was cold, frigid even. He didn’t bother to face you, his eyes pinned to his screens as he leaned forward, the muscles of his back flexing through his suit.

You couldn’t see what he was looking at but you could hear it: the soft giggles of a little girl, the cheers of a soccer game, the chuckles of a man now broken. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard the sounds of Miguel’s past. It probably wouldn’t be the last either.

“I-uh, got some reports to share with you.” You felt foolish. Lyla was right. HR complaints were the last thing on Miguel’s mind.

“Reports of the anomaly on Earth 9811?” Your brows pinched in irritation. He knew those weren’t the reports you had. You were fucking HR, not on active duty, let alone a spider person.

"No, you'd have to ask Jess or Gwen about that, but you need to listen—"

“I don’t want to hear it.” He grunted. You saw his hands form fists at his sides, the same hands that’d fisted your sheets in the throes of pleasure just days ago.

You shook your head. It was not the time for that kind of thought.

You carefully opened the crinkled folder, pulling out the paperwork you’d printed from your antique printer to read aloud from it.

“Peter Parker of Earth 5431-02 has formally filed a complaint,” you began, your eyes scanning the black text before releasing an exasperated sigh, “he’s saying you threw a chair at him?” Miguel grunted, the holo screens shutting off at his (Lyla’s) command.

“He’s an idiot.” Miguel snapped, finally turning to face you, his sharp features shadowed by the lack of light. He regarded you carefully, red eyes tracing your figure. You’ve grown used to the way his eyes lingered over you, especially when you were under him, his body pressed against yours, but sometimes you couldn’t help but squirm under his more severe gaze.

“Well, yeah,” you reluctantly agreed with a tilt of your head, “but a chair, Miguel?”

“It’s not like it hurt him...badly.”

“That's not the point."

“The point is that I got my point across.” Miguel snorted.

"It's the principle. You don't go around throwing fucking chairs at the people who work for you!"

"Mhm."

"You're their boss! What kind of behavior is that?"

"Uh-huh."

You were about ready to strangle him but knew your fingers couldn’t even go around his throat properly. You’ve tried before, under very different circumstances. You settled for pinching the bridge of your nose, as he often did, taking a breath to calm yourself before you completely lost your shit. "Listen to me."

"I'm listening, HR."

"Ugh, look," you pointed a finger up toward him, your brows knitted in obvious irritation, "annoying or not, he's still a member of the Spider Society, therefore, he has every right—”

“—to file a grievance under any circumstance as a result of an injustice, discrimination, or harmful behavior, and is to be given the respect to which every spider person is due as a valued member of the society. I know.” Miguel finished the legal jargon for you, hopping off the platform with an ease that’d always surprised you.

He stepped into your space, his large body casting a long shadow over you as he snatched the crinkled paperwork from your hands.

“I’ll speak with him.” He grunted. You pursed your lips, watching as his eyes scanned over the page.

"Make it right, Mig. Apologize. Formally. Or informally. It doesn’t matter— there’s nothing normal about this place anyway.” You placed your hands on your hips as you leaned forward, aware of how he was suddenly gazing down at you. “Just be nice, okay? Compensate him with, I dunno, a minor mission. He always wants to get involved, so let him.”

Miguel rolled his eyes, heaving a great sigh while running his hand through his hair. “Fine.”

“And no more throwing chairs to make a point.”

“Uh-huh, fine, anything else?” God, you wanted to smack him. You opted for snatching back the paperwork from his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles over your skirt-clad thighs before searching for the proper page.

“Yeah," you brought a finger down on the page, "the spiders are getting bored of the cafeteria food.” That was enough for Miguel's face to pinch in displeasure.

“What’s wrong with empanadas and churros?” He scoffed, waving his hand to dismiss the complaint, “And that stupid blue burger with my face on it?” He paused, eyes squinting for a moment, “You know what? That can go. Get rid of it.”

“Fine. Do I have permission to organize a survey?”

“For food?”

“Yes, for food. They want options.”

“Aye, por Dios,” Miguel grunted, waving his hand again, “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.” You organized the documents back into the manila folder before handing it over to him.

“You know you could just send this electronically, right?” He looked down at the folder, his eyes tracing your neat cursive in black ink.

“I’m old-fashioned.” You shrugged, turning on your heels. You heard him snort out a laugh, a tiny thing that made you smile. He has a nice laugh.

“One more thing,” Miguel called out, demandingly. You looked over your shoulder at him as he regarded you with heavy eyes.

“What is it?”

He boarded the platform once again, the machinery coming to life and slowly elevating him back to his preferred height. He tossed the folder somewhere over the desk, to be forgotten. It was the least of his worries at that moment.

You watched Miguel ascend above you like some kind of heavenly being, the yellow light of the holo screens illuminating his tan skin till he glowed molten gold. You waited on him with bated breath, his response sinking straight to your core.

“Keep your window unlocked tonight.”

…

He loves it when you ride him.

His large hands were glued to your hips as you bounced on him expertly, your cunt soaking him in your sticky juices.

Most nights began this way—with Miguel's cock buried deep in your pussy after a long day of enduring his insufferable attitude. You'd fuck the stress out of him—fuck the astronomical weight of the multiverse off his shoulders if only for a few short hours.

"Been thinking about this all day." He groaned under you, throwing his head back over your pillow when he felt your walls grip his length viciously, fighting to keep him in.

"Yeah?" You gasped, your hands firmly planted on his bare chest as you made work of your hips, rotating them in delicious circles—the way he liked—your thighs spread wide to accommodate his massive size. "W-wasn't enough to curb that a-attitude though, huh?"

Even amid the utmost pleasure—of Miguel's length hitting a spot that had you trembling—you found the strength to taunt him, your hazy eyes catching a glimpse of the twitch in his brow. That meant trouble.

Within seconds Miguel had you on your back, his imposing body trapping you against your mattress. His cock slipped out for a moment but he had no problem finding his way back into your slippery channel, snapping his hips strategically to reach as deep as he could.

You cried out, your hands scrambling to find purchase over his shoulders, your pretty manicured nails digging into his perfectly golden skin.

"F-fuck! Miguel!"

"Wanna say that again?" He growled, his face hovering mere centimeters from yours, "Go ahead, say it again." You did nothing but whimper as he pounded into you mercilessly, his cock stretching you open.

"That's what I thought." Miguel chuckled smugly, delighting in your little chokes and stutters, egging him to keep pounding you relentlessly. You tried speaking—tried to articulate your words to him, but you couldn't, too cock drunk to focus on anything else but his gorgeous face twisted up in pleasure and his thick cock kissing the secret place within you.

He had you coming soon after, stars exploding behind your lids as you trembled in his arms. Your cunt squeezed him just right and he came, panting in your ear as he filled you to the brim.

His spend stained your sheets when he pulled out, and as always, he watched it dribble out from your swollen cunt with lidded eyes. He wasted no time in taking his fingers and stuffing the mess back in.

“Keep me in there.” He muttered, swiping through your puffy folds one final time before he ripped himself from you. You immediately soured, keeping your gaze on him as he quickly cleaned himself off with a cloth you left for him on your nightstand.

You admired his figure: the ripple of his muscles as he moved, the broadness of his shoulders, the glow of his skin in the dim lighting of your bedroom.

Miguel was gorgeous. You’ve always thought so.

His suit glitched before coming to life, covering his sculpted body in the usual blue and red you've come to know.

“Did…you want to eat before you go?” Dinner was on the stove, cold but still good. You sat up against your headboard, more of his spend leaking out as you fiddled with your fingers over the soiled sheets.

Miguel shook his head, sighing as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I have to go.” He said, stepping forward, grabbing your hand, and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles. It was the only form of affection he’d allowed himself to give you. He’d never kissed you before. Probably never will. It wasn't part of the deal.

Your heart sunk, your skin searing where his lips had lingered.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Most nights ended this way—with your aching cunt full of his seed and your eyes wet with unshed tears as you watched him leave through your window, disappearing into the night.

…

A few days later, Peter B. Parker landed in your office. Quite literally.

He plopped down on the seat in front of yours from seemingly nowhere, a messily packed diaper bag hanging loosely from his shoulder. He had his daughter snuggly pressed against his chest in her carrier, her chubby arms and legs flailing over his pink robe.

You yelped, dropping the pen in your hand, clutching your chest in freight.

“Jesus! Where the hell did you just come from?!”

“Up there.” Peter pointed up. You followed his line of vision, noting the door to the air vent busted open, barely hanging from its hinges. “Sorry about the vent.” He offered sheepishly, taking a large bite of a slice of pizza he'd pulled from a greased-up brown paper bag.

"You could've just taken the elevator!"

"Takes too long to get to the basement.” He said between a mouthful of pizza, “Why'd Miguel give you an office down here anyway?"

"I'm scared of heights." You reminded him, watching Mayday struggle to release herself from her carrier prison. Peter snorted out a laugh, dropping the diaper bag on the floor while simultaneously taking another bite of his pizza.

“Doesn’t make sense to work in a place like this.”

“It was the deal I made when Miguel asked me to work for him. Chew with your mouth closed.”

“Have you tried the cafeteria pizza?" He asked suddenly, ignoring your demand and speaking with another mouth full of the greasy treat, "It's the new thing. Everyone's going crazy."

You smiled smugly. "I know. You’re welcome."

“Ah, I should've known Miss HR was behind this!” You rolled your eyes at the nickname, rummaging through your drawer before tossing him a few napkins.

“What can I do for you, Peter?”

Mayday whined, crawling out of the carrier and over her father’s thighs. She hopped on your desk, scattering some of your paperwork. You quickly caught her before she tumbled off the edge, cooing at her before placing her in your lap. You squeezed her in your arms and she let out a scream of delight before squirming, reaching out in wonder at the different knick-knacks on your desk.

“Right, almost forgot." Peter took the last bite of his pizza, wiping his face and fingers with the napkins you provided before his face morphed into something serious. "Is this guy bothering you?” He pulled out a yellow holo pad, one presumably given to him by Miguel, revealing a video of you and Peter Parker two hundred from the other day.

You blinked, your eyes tracing the moving image carefully.

”Oh. Not really,” you finally said, ripping your gaze away from the screen, “Nothing I can't handle. Why?”

“Miguel asked me to investigate the situation discreetly.”

"Asked?"

"Well, demanded, you know Miguel," Peter shrugged, reaching down into the diaper bag and procuring a lollipop when Mayday began to whine, “he’s concerned. I figured it’d be easier to just ask you about it.”

You frowned, grasping the sweet when he handed it over to you, pulling off the wrapper and placing it in Mayday's chubby hand, “That’s hardly discreet.”

“I didn’t wanna follow the guy around!”

“He's making you do that?”

“‘Of course he is. Doesn't like the guy. He barely tolerates me!”

You snorted. “Why does Miguel even care?”

"You know him better than any of us do. If anyone would know, it’s you."

Well, that was true.

You knew Miguel before he created the Spider Society, before he was ever Spider-Man. You knew him before his addiction to Rapture, before he experienced fatherhood, before he lost Gabriella.

Back when, to the world, he was just some guy in a white lab coat.

But he was never just some guy to you.

You’ve loved Miguel for years. You’d loved him in your early days at Alchemax, when he was fresh out of college and eager to begin his shaky career, back when you were hanging on to the corporation by a measly thread of an unpaid internship. You were a pair, stuck to each other like glue.

A few years later, when you both decided to take it a step further and mess around, well, that only ignited your feelings further. Miguel was an attentive lover. He knew your needs and fulfilled them, taking you to the heights of pleasure before humbling you just as smoothly with his strict rules about your agreement.

He didn’t have time to cater to someone's feelings—didn’t have time for a romantic relationship when he had too much on his plate. But his sexual appetite demanded attention—and why not with someone he’s called a friend for years?

You were just a friend. And that’s all you’d ever be.

It was just sex. That's all it'd ever be.

“You okay?” Peter ripped you away from your thoughts, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You answered with a sigh, gently resting your chin over Mayday’s soft curls. “Is Miguel worried?”

“You’re the closest thing he has to a friend, of course he’s worried about you. Those were his words, not mine.” Peter shrugged, putting his holo pad away, “so is there a cause for concern?” The thought alone almost made you smile. Almost. Instead, you scoffed, shaking your head.

“I’m usually the one that handles these situations, you know.”

“And who’s supposed to help you?”

“I don’t need help.”

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced. “Miguel doesn't seem to think so. You sure?”

“Very.”

“Alright, I did my part!” He clapped his hands as if he’d successfully completed a mission, “Time to go, Mayday!” He stood, grabbing the babbling baby from you and placing her back in the carrier.

"She's precious." You said, gently pinching Mayday's drool-covered cheek as she teethed over her lollipop.

"Takes after her dad." Peter grinned, snatching up the diaper bag, "Listen, if you ever need any help—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get outta here, Parker." You shooed him away, quickly organizing your wrinkled paperwork together. You could still feel his eyes on you as you kept your hands busy, and when you finally looked at him he had a silly smile on his face.

"What?"

“You guys are idiots." He was still grinning.

"What?"

"Nothin'," he said, pressing a kiss to Mayday's red curls, "Just do me a favor. Don't mention any of this to Miguel, alright?"

You crossed your arms, leaning back against your swivel chair. "Sure."

...

"So you think I need help?"

Miguel's hands immediately stilled on your hips as you stirred the boiling pasta over your electric stove.

You didn't hear him come in, but you had a feeling he’d show up. It had been a couple of days since he’d fucked you, and there were many stressful days between then and now.

So you’d left your window unlocked just in case.

"What are you talking about?" He muttered, his fingers lightly dancing on your waist before pulling away completely.

"Nothing." You huffed to yourself, cutting off the heat and getting on your toes to reach for the pasta strainer on the shelf above. After a second of watching you struggle, Miguel put a hand on your shoulder to stop you, reaching forward to grab it for you.

"Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’.” He finally said, observing you strain the pasta over the sink, the steam from the hot water engulfing you both in what felt like a thick cloud of tension. You peered over your shoulder at him, your eyes raking over his solid form.

“You know, Peter Parker two hundred?” You asked, witnessing his face contort from passive to extreme annoyance.

He sucked his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leaned back against your counter, looking so out of place in your tiny kitchen, his broad shoulders almost the entire width of your cupboard. “I told Peter to be discreet.”

“He said you’re worried about your only friend.” You continued to tease him, emphasizing the word as you lifted the lid to a pot where a homemade Pomodoro sauce was bubbling.

“I said that?” Miguel muttered, feigning innocence, watching you take a spoon and scoop some of the red sauce for a quick taste. You could feel his gaze on you, his eyes tracing the way your tongue licked off the remnants of sauce.

You hummed in approval before scooping up some more and turning to offer Miguel a taste. You lifted the spoon toward him, and after a moment of contemplation, he hunched forward with arms crossed over his toned chest, mouth opening slightly to allow you to press the spoon past his lips.

His eyes fluttered as he savored the rich taste, humming his own tune of approval.

"Is it good?"

“Mhm.”

You beamed, eyeing how he licked his lips like a satisfied cat, his fangs protruding slightly when he ran his tongue over them. The same fangs you’ve felt over your delicate skin from time to time.

Miguel was a biter. You didn’t mind.

Miguel grunted, using his thumb to wipe off a bit of sauce that lingered near the corner of your lips. You inhaled a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering from the heat of his touch.

"What else did he say?" He murmured, looming over you, his hand now gently cradling the back of your neck, thumb caressing your skin.

"T-that you're worried about me?" You breathed. Miguel pulled you closer suddenly, the faintest noise of surprise escaping you. His suit always felt strange under your fingers, the digitized fabric almost slippery, like fine silk. It was ridiculous how perfect you felt wrapped up in his arms. You sometimes wished he'd show up in civilian clothes. You missed his lazy outfits when he'd throw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him in anything other than his suit (and his naked form, of course). It meant he was always on the clock, devoting all his precious time to the multiverse.

It meant that whenever he was alone with you, he considered it work.

And yet, the suit made you feel secure and safe—like nothing in the world could harm you. And there was truth to that, though the only thing harming you these days was Miguel himself. But that was your fault too.

The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain.

You gazed at his full lips. You desperately wanted to taste them, to know how soft and warm they would feel molded against yours. If you were brave enough you might have stolen a taste, might have felt those sharp canines for yourself on your tongue.

Miguel’s thick fingers trailed into your hair, gripping the roots with just a hint of pressure, his lidded eyes taking in every part of your face: your brows, your eyes, the bridge of your nose, and your supple lips—wet and swollen from biting them so damn much.

"Maybe just a little," he finally answered, his shoulders shifting in a slight shrug. You could feel his length press against your hip, hot and throbbing, demanding attention.

It filled you with pride knowing your proximity was enough to get him excited. It shouldn't though. It was only arousal. Basic primal instincts.

You shouldn’t be feeling pride for any of this. You had to remind yourself of that.

You closed your eyes, willing your heartbeat to slow down just a bit. Could you really be this love-sick? So hung up on a man who was emotionally unavailable? If you hadn’t fallen before, then you knew you were plummeting now, so far gone that you’d let Miguel do anything to you.

So when he whisked you away to your bedroom, dinner long forgotten, you didn’t put up a fight.

He fucked you from behind.

It was a tight stretch, your wet cunt fighting him as he tried pressing his swollen tip in with little luck.

"Gotta let me in," he grunted, spreading your cheeks wide to gaze down at your twitching holes, "you're too tight. Let me in."

"I'm trying," you panted, tears in your eyes as you buried your face into the sheets, "i-it's been a while."

"It's okay," his large hands caressed the globes of your ass in comfort, "it's my fault. Haven't been fucking you enough, hm? S'my fault." Miguel rubbed his cock through your soaked folds a few times, the obscene noises of your sopping cunt causing him to grunt.

"Goddamn, so fuckin' wet." He muttered before lining himself up and carefully pushing in again. You cried out, fisting the sheets when he successfully got the tip in. He groaned, the guttural sound masking your tiny mewls as he pushed on, your wet cunt coating him entirely in your sticky essence, easing his entry just a bit.

"Fuck, Miguel, it h-hurts." You whined, the stretch of him both painful and pleasurable as he bullied his way in, his girthy cock plunging through your fluttering walls.

"Shh, I know." He rarely cooed as he did now, reassuring you with gentle noises and tender touches as he eased into you, balls deep in your core, “Look how good you’re doing for me. S’good.” A fresh wave of arousal dripped from you at his praise, your fluttering cunt allowing him to push and pull as he pleased.

He began a steady rhythm, holding your hips tightly to work you over his length, muttering to himself all the while as he watched how your creamy juices clung to his cock and covered his skin.

The pain quickly subsided into blinding pleasure. Miguel had you mewling into your mattress, your eyes rolling and drool slipping past your lips, your back impossibly arched, and your swollen cunt wetter than it’s ever been. The slapslapslap of his hips against your ass was loud in the quiet of your bedroom, your moans even louder when he skillfully hit something inside you that made you see stars every single time.

You loved the feel of him, loved the stretch of his cock, loved how your cunt would ache for days after as if to remember him.

“Coño,” Miguel growled, keeping a large hand on your lower back to keep you steady in your arched position, “you sound so pretty when I fuck you.” He suddenly gripped your hair, pulling you up as he curved over you, continuing to spill filth into your ears.

It was too much.

“M-Miguel, I’m g-gonna—”

“Cum for me.”

That was it. The dam burst within you, your eyes rolling back as you cried out, cunt spasming and gushing all over him.

“That’s it,” he muttered, sloppily thrusting into your tightening core, “good girl.”

“Miguel,” you continued to whine, grinding against him, “Fuuuck, I love you.”

You didn’t even realize what you said until it was too late, so wrapped up in the bliss of it all that your mouth worked faster than your brain could think.

You froze when you felt him still above you. He released your hair, bringing his hand back to your hips before gripping them viciously, chasing his own release. He rammed into you faster, slamming his hips against your ass one final time before letting out a guttural groan deep from within the confines of his chest. You could only imagine how he looked: tan skin glistening, chocolate hair plastered against his brow and head tossed back in pleasure.

Miguel said nothing as he gently removed his cock from your aching sex, letting his seed dribble out from you and soak into the sheets.

As soon as you turned around he was already in his suit, pushing a few buttons on his watch before he brought his wine-colored eyes to you.

"I have to go."

“Mig?” You whispered his name softly, your naked body burning with embarrassment, “I-I’m sorry I—”

"I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was the same thing he always said, but it hurt twice as much. It was as if he were on autopilot, disconnected from what just happened.

You felt your heart plummet into your stomach as you watched Miguel leave through your window with a speed he usually reserved for missions.

His spend caked your thighs. There was so much of it coming out of you, more so than usual, his cum ruining your sheets enough that you’d need to change them before bed.

You sniffled, eyes watering, tears threatening to fall. He didn’t even kiss your hand goodbye.

You ripped yourself away from the soiled sheets, stomping over to your window as his cum leaked down your inner thighs before slamming it closed, locking it for good.

...

“You made this?” Miles exclaimed with a mouth full of spaghetti, clumsily twirling another forkful over his paper plate. You were handing out some of the spiders' leftover Pomodoro pasta from the previous night. You’d lost your appetite. It’d be a shame if you let it all go to waste.

“Yeah, eat up, there’s enough for everyone.” You scooped out more pasta from a Tupperware and onto a paper plate for Gwen. The younger girl’s eyes sparkled as she grabbed the plate, immediately slurping up a bite.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, lips covered in red sauce, “why are you working at the Spider Society when you could be a chef?”

“It’s because Miguel begged her to work here,” Miles quipped, a lone spaghetti hanging from his mouth.

“And who told you that?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Uhh,” his eyes flew over to Peter B., who was waiting patiently for his own plate of pasta to be served. You turned and narrowed your eyes at Peter, who chuckled nervously.

“Listen,” he began, hands thrown up in surrender, “the kid got curious, okay? He was convincing, I mean, look at those eyes.” You huffed, snatching Peter’s plate and loading it up with pasta.

“You guys are annoying,” you muttered with no bite, shifting your gaze toward Hobie, who sat quietly with his legs thrown up on the table, “Hobie, fuck the government and all that, but you need to get your dirty boots off the table if you want some food.”

Hobie sighed dramatically, letting his boots drop to the ground.

“Fine, boss lady.”

Satisfied, you handed him a plate.

“So, let’s talk about you being a chef?” Gwen tried again, scrapping the remaining bits off her plate.

“It’s just pasta,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, “anyone can make a Pomodoro.”

“My dad can’t.”

“…why?”

“He’s Irish.”

“And a bloody cop,” Hobie interjected, twirling his pasta with a plastic fork, “hate those.”

“Here we go,” Gwen huffed, the beginnings of an argument forming. You chose to ignore them, letting Gwen, Miles, and Hobie bicker between themselves.

You squirmed in your seat, crossing your legs to cure the throbbing within. You could still feel Miguel, the stretch of his cock, and the inevitable ache that lingered afterward. You were still full of him, your cunt wet even hours later, plaguing you with the thought of never feeling him again.

You drummed your fingers over the messy table littered with paper plates and napkins, your body hunched forward, lost in thought.

“So…” Peter began, adjusting the collar of his pink robe, “you gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to force it outta you?” You whipped your head to look at him, brows furrowed as you regarded him.

“What makes you think something’s going on?” You whispered, hoping the cafeteria was loud enough so the rest of the table wouldn’t hear.

“Something’s going on or you wouldn’t be whispering,” Peter whispered back, his blue eyes pinned to yours as he searched for answers.

“It’s nothing.” You answered quickly, continuing to squirm in your seat, fighting to ignore your achy cunt.

“Did you guys finally smooch?” You froze, your hands gripping the edge of the table with a force that made your knuckles go white.

“Peter, what the fuck are you talking about?” You hissed, watching him happily eat his Pomodoro.

“You think I don’t know?” He challenged, “It might not be obvious to everyone else but I know what’s going on.” He winked at you, dabbing a napkin messily over his mouth.

Your heart was pounding, ready to beat out your chest, but you schooled your features as best you could. You swallowed thickly, crossing your arms over your chest as if to make yourself smaller.

“Okay, fine, you know. What of it?”

“Miguel’s being mopey.”

“Mopey?” You snorted, shaking your head, “He’s always mopey, isn’t he?”

“This is a different kind of mopey,” Peter raised a brow, “it’s actually kind of… frightening.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s got nothing to do with us, for once. Usually one of us pisses him off enough to throw things but he’s on a mission. Said he needed to clear his head. So what happened?” You sighed, shoulders sagging.

“I might have said something I wasn’t supposed to last night.”

“What?”

“We made a deal,” you explained in a whisper, “no feelings, just…you know,” you wiggled your fingers, hoping it would be enough of an explanation. Peter nodded, urging you to continue, “Well, I messed up.”

“How?”

“ItoldhimIlovehim.” You blurted out, your hands flying over your mouth. Peter blinked with a subtle tilt of his head, before a grin stretched over his lips. You groaned, now covering your eyes, “W-what is that, why are you smiling? Stop it.”

“I mean, one of you had to say it first.”

“Peter, you’re killing me here.” He rolled his eyes, inching close enough till your knees brushed against his.

“You don’t think the big guy feels the same way?”

“No!” You squeaked incredulously, “There’s no way. You should’ve seen him yesterday. He could barely look at me!”

“You caught him off guard.”

“I know that, but he still could’ve said something. Anything.”

“He’s a guy. Guys are stupid.” You groaned, pushing your hair out of your face. You turned to look at the other spiders. You knew they’d been listening given the way they all turned away immediately.

“Someone is stupid,” you muttered to Peter, feeling dejected, “and it’s definitely not him.”

...

You took a deep breath before placing your watch over the sensor.

The door to Miguel’s office didn’t budge, not to your surprise. Lyla must have blocked the systems again.

What were you even doing there?

You hadn’t seen Miguel in about a week. That was ample time to inform you he wanted nothing to do with you. You couldn't blame him but still, it was…unprofessional. He was your boss at the end of the day.

Maybe you shouldn’t have started fucking the head of the Spider Society. Your weak heart wouldn’t be in shambles if you didn’t.

It was a stupid move, you knew, telling someone you love them in the throes of passion when they clearly weren’t on the same page, unprovoked or not. He probably hates you. He must.

You’d given yourself enough time to think it through and given yourself so many pep talks before deciding a professional relationship with Miguel was for the best. No more friends with benefits.

No more keeping your window unlocked.

You took a breath and tried again. No luck.

Did he fire you? That couldn’t be right. You were still in the system and able to enter HQ with your keycard just fine.

“You’re always catching him at a bad time,” Lyla sighed beside you, whipping out her tiny little holographic phone, “he didn’t even want to take a photo! Unbelievable!” The small image on her screen revealed a snarling Miguel, clearly unamused by the bunny filter plastered over his face. It was cute, even if he looked a bit terrifying baring his fangs.

Lyla shifted to face you, hands on her little hips as she looked you up and down.

“You look niiice,” she quickly snapped a photo of you, “no cute filter needed.”

“Uhh, thanks?”

“Now it’s your turn to say something nice to me.” The Ai grinned when you rolled your eyes.

“You look…extra yellow today, Lyla.”

“Thank you! I’m in default mode.”

“Okay, so I’ll just come back later then?” You rushed to leave but Lyla stopped you, zapping in front of you suddenly.

“Nah, I’ll let you in.” You could hear the door to Miguel’s office opening, “Fix him.”

“What? How am I supposed to do that?”

Lyla shrugged, “I dunno, I just know you’re the only one that can.” She waved farewell, disappearing in a glimmer of gold.

You groaned, dropping your head in your hands for a moment to collect your thoughts. Your palms began to sweat—they always did when you were nervous—so you quickly wiped them over your black pencil skirt before facing the office entryway.

It was dark as usual, the only light illuminating the area was Miguel’s bright yellow screens. They hung above him as he sat slouched in his chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His head turned lazily to regard you.

“I heard you’ve been mopey.” You began, cracking a smile when he snorted. He shook his head, watching you slowly approach him like one would a wounded animal. He didn’t confirm nor deny the accusation.

“What do you need?”

“To talk to you.” You said, finding the courage to step into his space, leaning back against his desk and blocking one of the yellow screens.

“About?”

“Us.” Miguel hummed, running a hand through his messy hair. He sat up in his chair but said nothing else, allowing you the space to speak freely.

“I-I wanted to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable,” you began to fumble with your fingers, unable to keep eye contact with him for very long, “I know that what I said was…crossing the line—”

“Did you mean it?” He asked abruptly, the question forcing your eyes away from your fingernails and toward his chiseled face. He looked exhausted, eyes heavy but swimming with curiosity.

“W-well, I mean, it was a moment of—”

“Did you mean it?” He repeated, his tone stern as he awaited a proper answer from you. You bit your lip, slowly nodding your head.

“Yeah. I did. Still do.”

The silence that stretched wasn’t very long but it felt like an eternity. Miguel only stared at you, his jaw tight as he sat forward, his elbows resting on his toned thighs.

You wished you could read his thoughts, take a peek at what ran through his mind. He was always so good at hiding his emotions, never showing an ounce of what he felt. That wasn’t always the case but after Gabriella, he didn’t show much of anything.

“I think it’s best we don’t see each other anymore,” you finally concluded, crossing your arms, “we should stop.”

“What?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean stop?” He was towering over you in a matter of seconds, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. Your heart was pounding, your hands flying to grip the edge of his desk.

“Mig, we can’t keep doing this.”

“Yes, we can.” He caged you in his arms, bringing his face just a few inches away from yours. He never had much of a problem with eye contact, but you did. You chose to look at his collarbones and the large swoop of his shoulders. It was intimidating and arousing all at once and you weren’t getting anywhere with this speech, were you?

“We can’t. Not when we’re not on the same page.”

“Who says we’re not?” You felt his fingers graze the side of your face, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. You turned away, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the familiar prick of tears behind your lids.

“Stop playing with me.” You said, pushing him away with little luck. Miguel shifted slightly at your touch, watching you rub at your eyes.

“I’m not.”

“Then why have you not said anything for a week?” You hissed, the frustration threatening to boil over, “You’ve left me agonizing over this for a week, Miguel!” You wiped furiously at your cheeks, catching a few stray tears. “I’m such an idiot.”

Miguel grabbed your wrists in his hands, yanking them away from your face. His concerned eyes met your wet ones, a frown tugging at his lips.

“Stop.” He demanded, taking your flushed face in his hands and wiping the wet streaks away with his thumbs. “Don’t say that about yourself.” You glared, cheeks puffed and swollen from the pressure of fighting away tears.

“Fine,” you snapped, ignoring the way he stroked your cheeks, “you’re the fucking idiot.”

“I am,” Miguel agreed with a sigh, refusing to release you, “I didn’t know what to say. Thought you might have been lying—don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re pissing me off.”

“I know, beba.” The endearment startled you for a moment, your glossy eyes peering up at him as a rush of excitement settled in your stomach. He’d never used endearing words with you before. It had you stumped for a second before you remembered yourself, your brows furrowing in irritation

“Why would you think I was lying? Mig, I’ve loved you for years, you buffoon!” Miguel loomed closer with every word before he kissed you, silencing you effectively. Your eyes fluttered, your lips unresponsive at first until he coaxed you into a gentle rhythm.

Kissing Miguel was so much softer than you imagined.

You thought he’d be all tongue and teeth, desperate to devour his victim. His kisses were syrupy and deliberate, steady and reassuring. He was taking his time learning the shape of your lips, the plumpness, how perfect they felt molded against his.

“I’m sorry, beba,” he said between kisses, letting you snake your arms around his neck to pull him closer, “perdoname. I’m an idiot.” You hummed in agreement, continuing to assault his lips sweetly. You couldn’t stop kissing him if you wanted to, sneaking your tongue past the seam of his lips to taste more of him.

He growled, tightening his hold on you, allowing you to taste at your leisure. He tasted fresh, like the spearmint gum he always had on hand.

“Perdoname,” he repeated, wanting so desperately for you to forgive his transgressions, slotting himself between your legs.

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” you teased, feeling the familiar ache of arousal blooming in your core, “show me how sorry you are.” Another growl ripped from him, animalistic and provoked. He wasted no time, pushing you down so that your back was flat against his desk and your legs were wrapped around his hips.

He pressed a button beside you and suddenly, the platform began to elevate.

“Mig,” you sat up in a panic, but Miguel only pushed you back down, lifting your skirt up till it pooled over your waist, “w-why are we moving up?”

“Privacy,” he grunted, spreading your legs, running his thumb over the soaked patch of your panties. Your hands scrambled to find purchase on something over the desk, your heart hammering in your chest as the ceiling seemed to loom closer.

“Y-you know I’m scared of heights!” You squealed when the platform came to a jutting halt, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even want to think about how high up you were.

“It’s okay,” Miguel purred, gently rubbing your clit through the fabric, “you’re safe, you’re with me, beba, no tengas miedo.”

“M-Mig, please,” you didn’t even know what you were begging for at that point, you just needed something, and whatever that was, he gave to you. You felt him push aside your panties, and you finally spared him a glance, almost choking at the sight of him mesmerized by the sweetness between your legs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, slipping a finger through your folds, “you dripping all over my desk.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, easily ripping your panties apart before getting on his knees, “smell s’good.” He muttered, licking a stripe up with his fat tongue, scooping whatever mess you made. He moaned at the taste before completely diving in, eyes closed and large hands keeping your trembling thighs spread for him.

As always, you were a whimpering mess for him, mewling with every precise stroke of his tongue. It was the first time he’d done something like this, and god, it was nothing you could have ever dreamed of.

He moaned into your cunt, the gentle vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. You trembled and whined with every loud slurp of his mouth over your clit, his tongue swiping over your precious bud before working his way down to dip inside your hole.

“Fuck, Miguel,” your hands flew to his hair, your fingers weaving through the thick strands to keep his head in place. He skillfully nipped and licked the surface, lifting his face away slightly to spit into your cunt, watching it run through your puffy folds with lidded eyes before devouring you again.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he groaned, sucking your clit between his lips.

You threw your head back, letting out the prettiest moans for him. You forgot about everything, about where you were and how high up you were from the ground. You couldn’t care less as long as Miguel continued to eat from you like a madman.

You could feel the tension in your abdomen, the clear sign that you were close. Miguel continued to drink from you, slurping obscenely at the fresh arousal that dripped into his mouth.

“Close?” He asked, giving you kitten licks, his hands squeezing your thighs encouragingly.

“God y-yes, so close.” You could feel him smiling against your folds before starting up a vicious rhythm again with his eyes closed.

With a loud cry, you came into his waiting mouth, your back arching and body withering over the table from the overstimulation. Miguel licked and sucked every inch of you, determined to catch every drop of your orgasm.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, releasing your grip from his hair and draping an arm over your eyes. Miguel stood, removing your arm and leaning over your fatigued body. He looked down at you with intense red eyes, his mouth and chin completely covered in your slick. You bit your lip when a smile curved at the edges of his lips before he swooped down to kiss you.

You moaned, completely aroused all over again from your own musky taste on his lips. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, allowing you a proper taste.

“Perdoname.” He begged again over your lips before gently brushing the tip of his nose against yours. You giggled, pushing him away slightly so that you could sit up on your elbows.

“Mm, I don’t know,” you teased, “you’re gonna have to try again.” Miguel shook his head, tapping a button on his watch, and allowing his suit to vanish. You gasped at his sudden nakedness, your eyes glued to his throbbing erection. Miguel grinned, fangs bared, tapping his cock over your sensitive cunt.

You closed your eyes as he immediately pushed in, moaning as he worked himself into your tight channel.

In your euphoric state, you barely registered him grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles, whispering over your skin. Your ears picked up a few words, some naughty and some sweet, but your heart fluttered and your chest tightened when you caught the last two words before he began pounding into you.

“Te amo.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spider man 2099 #atsv #across the spiderverse #spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse

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notmorbid · 5 months ago

Text

all-night pharmacy.

dialogue prompts from all-night pharmacy by ruth madievsky.

you're so alive, it's scary.

being a person doesn't come naturally for me.

what's the deal with this place?

you are my best and my worst friend.

are we horrible people?

i like the idea of having someone to come home to.

i can't tell if you're being cruel or if you're just dumb.

these aren't the decisions of a well-adjusted person.

the less you know about my life, the better.

everyone here is a liar and a cheat.

you deserve to have a life of your own.

a person can't be held responsible for what they don't know.

all relationships are transactional.

no one should have that much power over you.

it isn't too late to come back.

you're uninvited from my birthday party.

i love you, but you're such a cunt.

who do you think you are?

forced intimacy makes me lightheaded.

i know you're in there. let me in.

jesus. why do you have a knife?

what happened last night?

it was less embarrassing to pretend i didn't care.

maybe i'm not the mothering type.

i wish i could carry some of this pain for you.

i need a break from feeling so much all the time.

sometimes i can't tell if i'm asleep or awake.

whatever's going on, we'll figure it out.

i don't know what's wrong with me. i'm scared all the time.

this is the most i can imagine for myself.

if you're not asking yourself 'am i ruining my life?' at least once a day, you're not living at all.

you act like you're over it, but it's okay if you're not.

all my life, i've felt like a dead animal with its skin still on.

it's a virtue to rid yourself of anything that doesn't serve you.

i've never had a day of rest in my life.

i chase after you like a dog, leaving pieces of myself behind, and every time, you act like that's how it's supposed to be.

you don't take me seriously. i'm not a real person to you.

i can't play house anymore.

never say that name in front of me.

to you, other people are always the problem.

you can't reach a mutual understanding without spilling blood.

want to make fifty bucks?

the only way to really see a person is to lose everything you have in common.

you don't think we'll get caught?

our loyalty is to story, not reality.

just don't do anything that could result in a lawsuit or a tmz article, and you're fine.

i don't have the energy to keep up with your antics.

our most beloved delusion was that lying to each other was a kind of love.

speaking our fears aloud won't save us.

one day, the mask slipped. i haven't been able to wear it since.

i try not to think about my life at all.

a junkie can spot another junkie without a flashlight.

your voice reminds me of wool sweaters.

boundaries? i don't know her.

i'm just sick of doing the same goddamn thing every day.

you are obsessed with a projection that will never love you back.

think of me as a spiritually connected friend.

i know liars. you don't strike me as one.

you have iconically poor judgment.

has anyone ever told you about your past lives?

you're capable of tolerating a lot. frankly, more than you should.

friendship can be a slow burn. you don't have to consume it like a drink at last call.

i'll give you a clue. i work for myself.

you make me want to feel things again.

criticism is still a cousin of attention.

you don't have to pretend to like something just because i made it.

i know you crave being told what to do.

you don't have to settle for being a person things happen to.

you have desires. act on them.

bitch, does this look like an intro to philosophy seminar?

i thought i had quit you.

my favorite. how did you know?

i feel like my organs are cannibalizing each other.

how did i get here? that's not a rhetorical question. i'm actually asking.

i can't tell if i believe it, or if i'm making excuses for myself.

sometimes i wonder if it's healthy how much meaning you see in things.

you're always waiting for the universe to hurt you or to love you. usually in that order.

that's how it was in my family. reading the room was a survival skill.

where will all the animals go in the rapture?

a bunch of fuckups under one roof doesn't constitute a family.

my little saint.

time passes more slowly as a sober person.

you'd better not pull away from me now.

there's a russian proverb that goes, 'so much is ruined by saying it aloud'.

you wear your emotions like a name tag.

your resting face frightens me.

how are you both the most innocent and the most experienced person i've ever met?

i need you to just be here with me.

our dead deserve to see you happy.

i like the idea of being marked by you.

i don't know what i saw, but it was more than i wanted.

i know what i saw.

i can't tell which of the memories are real, if any.

i can't believe you're mine.

nobody warned me how terrifying it is to get what you want.

you're cute when you're freaked out.

sex is supposed to be unsettling.

there are things i need to atone for.

you can't go back like it's nothing.

i won't live in service of my dead's vision for me.

___ was a real person. a murder isn't a metaphor.

count five things you can see. four things you can touch. three things you can hear. two things you can smell. one thing you can taste.

banish one god, and you'll end up worshiping another.

i want to be with you, but i don't want to keep feeling like this.

you know everything about me, but you won't let me know you.

you aren't someone i can keep at a distance.

i've been reading about intergenerational curses.

resisting something isn't the same as not wanting it.

anything you say stays between us.

i can't decide if i like you.

most people only possess a third of the empathy they think they have.

will it get easier?

hope is a tricky thing: losing it is bad, but so is having too much.

i don't want the future to come. i have a bad feeling about it.

in cartoons, you don't start falling until you look down.

why are you here? where have you been?

how did you know i'd come looking for you?

you never asked what i was going through. you didn't want to know.

i didn't have the language for what was happening to me.

you were supposed to protect me.

there's a lot i don't remember. a lot i don't want to remember.

i wouldn't have looked for me, either.

we belong to ourselves now.

you know where i am, and i know where you are. maybe that's enough.

when i'm down, vigilante justice makes me feel better.

survival is provisional.

#rp meme #rp memes #sentence starters #ask memes #ask meme #inbox memes #lgbt #families

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trashland-llamas · 3 months ago

Text

Venetia

AO3 link

Reader who wants to keep her period on the down low, not telling her teammates out of desperation. To appear normal instead of feeling like she was on the brink of death. She had done so well, going to bed an hour earlier. Hiding her craving for chocolate behind a simple excuse to bake. Claiming she was taking over the counter pain meds for a migraine and not cramps.

But unfortunately for her, Jason finds out from their shared bathroom. Confused when he comes across the discarded pad hidden in its wrapper. Trying to identify where the weird smell was coming from. 'Hey, can I ask you something?' He doesn't bother to knock before entering her bedroom. Realizing how fatigued she looks. Having heard pained whimpers before he entered.

‘Yea, what’s up Jay-jay?’ Trying to play it cool. Reader had yet to find a comfortable position to lie in. One that didn’t annoy the fuck out of her back but also didn’t make her worry about leaking through her pad. All but giving up at this point. Jason wasn’t completely clueless when it came to periods. He had spent some time around women. 'I saw a pad in the trash, and it was kinda stinking up the bathroom. It's the time of the month for you, isn't it?' There was a striking pallor regarding her appearance. 'I'm just glad you didn't use the word loins, but yes.' If anyone had to know, she didn't mind Jason knowing. Jason would at the very least not be mad that she insisted on being so independent.

'Why did you think I'd use the word loins?' Jason is more amused than shocked by Reader's snark. 'I don't know, the fact that you mostly read classic romance books. Surprised you haven't tried dressing like Fabio yet. Oh wait, that's just Discowing,' Jason knew he should've expected she’d have a long list of insults lined up for him. 'Okay, I get it. You're probably in a shit ton of pain, if not discomfort. So pretty please, let me help however I can.'

She held out a tiny stuffed animal. ‘It’s one of those that can be microwaved. Should take one minute in the nuker.’ Jason fails to hide his laugh but he does take it from her hand. Going down to the kitchen. Giving Roy and Artemis a look that said to mind their beeswax.

Reader had drifted into a half-asleep state. Eyes fully opening when she felt Jason place the warmed plush on her stomach. ‘Hey, sleepyhead. Hopefully that helps with the cramps. Need anything else?’

‘Can you keep me company?’ Came her request. One that Jason readily agreed to. ‘Yeah, I’ll stay. Get some rest,’ having them lean up so he could slide in behind them. Leaning against the headboard with Reader using him as a pillow. The heated plush now trapped between their bodies. Slipping a hand under her shirt to press circles along the muscles in her back. Humming a lullaby that his mom used to sing to him. Jason smiled when he heard her begin to snore.

‘You realize I do enjoy books outside of the romance genre?’ Jason questions her sleeping form. Not expecting a response as the question was rhetorical. Even his family had shoehorned him as the romance aficionado. The layout of the room hadn’t changed at all since he had last been in it. The bed is still flush to the side of the wall. A bookshelf next to it, right under the window. Doubly acting as a nightstand.

Cataloging her books, he picks up a random book. One of Neal Shusterman's—Bruiser. As time goes on, Jason begins to read some of the passages out loud. Glad that his experience staying perfectly still during stakeouts came in handy for something outside of vigilantism.

#tw periods #tw menstruation #cw menstruation #cw periods #dcu #dc universe #batman series #jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #x fem reader #x female reader

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kinabinaxoxo · 3 months ago

Text

Obedient Sevika x Reader

I'm sorry if it sucks ˙◠˙ bare with me it's my first one.

a/n:Sevika is late again for the fifth time so you "punish" her hehe semi-proofread ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

"She's late again" you said out loud to yourself. Rubbing your forehead while leaning back into your chair with your legs open.

The door busts open to your office and in comes Sevika panting. "I'm here.....i'm here!" She yells out of breathe.

You look up at her examining her as she's catching her breathe. Rolling your eyes you get out of your chair making your way to the front of the desk, leaning back onto it.

Sevika makes her way towards you standing just a couple inches away.

"Hmm what will the excuse be this time?" You question rhetorically raising an eyebrow. You begin mocking Sevika "I over slept... oh! I completely forgot...but there was traffic." You look at Sevika as if you're waiting to hear whatever excuse it is today.

Sevika just stands there silently. She'd rather not say anything knowing it takes nothing to set you off.

You two continue to share eye contact because you refuse to speak another word until Sevika decides to apologize for her lateness once again.

"I'm so sorry commander.”

Sevika doesn’t even care to state why as her knowing it’ll probably upset you as grey eyes glistens at you. You swear she use them to persuade you every time she fucks up.

"This is your third time this week and its not even Wednesday yet."

Sevika doesn't say anything in response to that.

You sigh, pushing yourself off your desk, taking a step towards Sevika closing the gap between the two of you. "C'mon now Sev, you know that's not good enough" you say in a sultry tone pouting giving her puppy dog eyes.

Sevika begins getting down on her knees lastly looking up at you

"I apologize for being late again Commander, I promise it won't happen again. Just please give me another chance I'll do anything to prove it you."

This is now her fifth time kneeling before you apologizing. You honestly couldn't care less if she was late or not. She's a great soldier, the best actually. She would do anything for country, for her Commander. You'd never get rid of her.

It's fulfilling watching this big strong woman beg for forgiveness. One of the most sexiest things she can do for you.

You honestly have no clue how she hasn't noticed that you never treat the other late soldiers like this.

Maybe she thinks you hold her to a higher standard than the rest because she's better than all of them. Or maybe she also enjoys this special treatment.

"Hmmm...you can prove it to me you say."

Looking down at Sevika, using one hand you begin to drag your fingers down her face from her forehead to her cheek, cupping it as you slowly run your thumb across her lips.

" Really?"

"Yes. I promise." Sevika answers softly.

"Take off your clothes" you say. Sevika doesn't move an inch. Almost as if she didn't hear a word you said.

"Now." the word comes out of your mouth sternly. Showing how serious you are.

Sevika begins to stand up and start removing her clothes starting at her tops, then her bottoms. You begin walking around Sevika to stand behind her just as she finishes undressing. You take in everything she has to offer. Loving every bit of it.

You run your hand up her back bending her over your desk. You lean over her. "That wasn’t so hard now was it?." you whisper into her ear, grinning.

You begin kissing and leaving bite marks all over her back. Making your way down to her cunt. Spreading her cheeks to really take in the view. Ready to devour her like your last meal.

You begin running two fingers across her wet folds. A slight moan escapes Sevika's mouth. as she's leaving your fingers soaked. "Aww did I do this Sevy?" you ask teasing her.

Running your fingers through her scalp you grip her hair pulling her back causing her to deepen her arch and look at you. You take your fingers putting them into your mouth, licking her off of them and then kissing her.

Your hand find its way back to her cunt which is aching for some attention. You begin rubbing her clit in slow circular movements. Low moans make they're way out of Sevika's mouth.

Pulling away from the kiss, you kiss on her neck. Leaving love marks . "Mmm you're being such a good girl for me already Sev, tell me how bad you want it."

"I want it so bad Commander, I want you."

Putting your face in between her thighs you start to feast. Licking and slurping all of Sevika causing her to let out low moans and whimpers.

Her wetness running down her thighs as you continue. You raise one of her legs on top of the desk to spread her pussy open even more for you.

Sevika moans are getting louder letting you know she's close to cumming but you pull away

"I'm not sure you should be able to cum since you clearly don't respect my authority...hmmm what do you think Sevika?"

"I promise I'll come on time Commander just make me cum please." Sevika begs of you.

You turn Sevika around kissing her, placing her on top of your desk. Clearing everything out your way not caring if it's important work.

You move your hand down to her cunt and start fingering her making her throw her head back smile letting out loud moans.

"Do you like that baby?" Sevika nods her head in response but that wasn't good enough for you "Use your words Sevika."

"Ugh- yes Commander yes"

Satisfied you grin and make your way back down to her cunt. You start sucking on her clit more as you're still fingering her. This makes Sevika close her legs. So you bite the inside of thigh as a warning causing her to spread them open again.

"Fuck fuck fuck" profanities and moans fly out of Sevika's mouth.

"Slow down a little C-c-commander"

You raise your head "I thought you wanted to cum Sev" not waiting for an answer you went eating her out.

Sevika throws her head back as her legs begin to shake. But that doesn't stop you if anything it makes you want to go faster.

"ugghh im cummi-" Sevika can hardly get her words out as she finishes.

Before she can come back from her last climax you add a third finger and continue sucking and licking on her clit. Sevika tries to scooch away but you pull her back and hold her in place with your other arm.

"Commander pleaseee" she cries out. You ignore her pleads. This is fun for you. Having her try to escape your embrace and running from you. You dreamt of times like this.

Sevika cums hard one last time as her chest rises up and down. Out of breath as she was when she first came running on here late.

You release your hold on her while pulling out your fingers and sucking on them looking at Sevika as she lays there collecting herself.

You lean over her tired body "Don't be late again."

"Yes Commander."

#sevika arcane #sevika x reader #wlw smut #sapphic smut

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valkierrie · 2 months ago

Text

𝚂𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝙰 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚆𝚊𝚢 𝚃𝚘 𝙳𝚒𝚗𝚎

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Warning(s): Noel smut, an' swearin', that's about it.

Plot: After a long day at work, Y/N is given a very pleasurable stress-reliever by her boyfriend.

Word count: 2.0K

A/N: Hope the person who requested it likes it; it's been a long time comin' and I'm sorry for the long wait.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another dreaded sunny day, only because of where I had to be. Instead of being where I was wanted and happy, I was stuck behind a small, lousy desk with my sleazy boss barking commands at me as if I were a lap dog.

“Y/L!” He yelled, for what was the 13th time this afternoon. There was no need to yell, he knew it. I could still hear him over the hordes of phone calls being made throughout the many cubicles. Mine wasn’t even far from him office.

With a sigh and internal groan, I pushed my chair back, scrapping it against the marble floor. I adjusted the pencil skirt I wore, which had ridden up slightly during the short interval that I was sat. Mr. Jones should’ve had a special place in hell for him for making us wear these, ‘uniforms.’ Tacky, black pencil skirts and long white shirts that were heroes in the winter and a pain in fuckin’ the winter.

I laid gentle knocks on his wooden, opened door. Mr. Jones sat behind his large desk on a comfortable office chair, a privilege he selfishly kept for himself. His gaze fell onto me as I stepped into the space.

“You called for me, sir.”

“Y/L,” he called my last name, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed as glared at me as with a sense of superiority. “I asked for a coffee fifteen minutes ago, where is it?”

My brows furrowed. “Sir, I wasn’t told you requested a coffee. Moreover, your assistant’s right out there.” I wasn’t sure why this was being brought to my attention, but I wasn’t surprised, it wasn’t the first time Mr. Jones was making me do something above my pay grade.

“I know she’s out there; I’m telling you to grab me a coffee, is there a problem with that?”

The question was rhetorical, it was obvious. I hadn’t missed the smugness it was laced in; he knew the power he had over me and was beckoning me to make a move so he’d get his sick gratification from reminding me.

There was no use in arguing—what difference does it make?

“Black. Two sugars, love—oh, and a dash of white chocolate creamer.” He instructed, his elbows rested on the table, his fingers laced together as he laid his chin on them, tilting his head ever-so sightly with a taunting look.

I left Mr. Jones’ office, the need to keep my job keeping me from flipping him off on my way out his door. I made my way to the coffee room, which took three flights of stairs and a lot of heavy breathing.

I wasn’t sure why the coffee room wasn’t set in a lower floor—or on the same floor as the cubicles, but no. Any and all logic leaves the moment anyone steps foot in this building. That’s not to say that everyone here’s stupid. They just don’t get the opportunity to use their brains with people like Jones in charge.

I stepped into the coffee room, pushing the glass door open. The room wasn’t completely devoid of people like it normally was during non-break moments. A few workers stood near the large windows, talking amongst themselves, whilse one merely sat in the rectangular table that was set in middle of the room.

I took two small strides towards the coffee maker. I did the due diligence of making a cup of coffee, holding back the urge to spit it as I pumped the white chocolate creamer into the coffee. I made my way downstairs and back to Mr. Jones’ office.

I placed the cup on his desk, a tight smile on my face. “Here you go, sir.”

Mr. Jones picked up the cup, taking a sip. I was ready to leave, certain that my job was done. However, before I could leave the office, Mr. Jones stopped me.

“L/N, stay back.”

I took a deep breath, exhaling deeply. “Sir?”

Mr. Jones’ facial expression was one of bitterness, and he attempted to get the taste of the coffee out of his mouth. “What did you put in this?”

“Two sugars and white chocolate creamer.”

“Tastes like shit,” he set the cup down, sliding it towards me as if it had caused great offense. “Throw this out and get me another cup. Carmel creamer this time.”

My jaw clenched tightly, despite that, I did what I was told.

Back to the coffee room I went, squeezing the cup tightly. I threw the cup out and prepared another one, being sure to pump caramel.

When I returned to Mr. Jones’ office, I placed the cup on his table, quickly attempting to make it out.

“Hold it, L/N.” He raised a finger in the air, as if it held importance.

Mr. Jones took a small sip of his coffee before placing it down and shaking his head. “What is this?”

My eyebrows knit in confusion, crossing my arms. “What you asked for?”

“Still shit.”

“It would help if you didn’t have shit taste.” I rolled my eyes, muttering under my breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, sir.”

Mr. Jones sighed, as if he had done something anything meaningful. “This coffee just ruined my day.”

“Must’ve been a real shit day for you already, then, uh?”

Mr. Jones gave me a look, he opened his mouth to say something, but must have decided not to. “I’m not in the mood for coffee anymore. Get me a drink from that place down the street.”

He could not be serious. I shouldn’t have been surprised; he was like a toddler—a large toddler in a designer suit.

“But sir—”

Mr. Jones held his hand up. “Did I stutter? Go get me a drink.” He placed crumpled note on his desk. “Make it quick.” He snapped his fingers, his other hand throwing the coffee cup in the garbage.

My eye twitched, my jaw set. It took all I had within me to not just jump over his desk and throttled him. I took the money and left the office muttering, “Tosser.”

I once more, did what I was told, which wasn’t my job. The rest of the day felt numb; Orders after orders.

When I finally got back to the flat, I felt at peace.

Not just because of where I was, but who was waiting for me.

Noel was perched on the floor, slouching, his back to our large, grey, sofa. A black acoustic guitar was being strummed about by him like there was nowhere better to be, it’s sounds echoing about in the place.

The strums were interrupted when Noel’s eyes settled onto me, a small smile crept on to his face, lazy, but warm. His genuine smiles were one of those things that—although were rare—made you feel special when you were on the receiving end of them. Although today was shitty as hell, coming back to that, almost made it worth it.

Almost.

“Alright?”

I nodded, attempting to give him my best smile, thought I was certain it didn’t quite reach my eyes. I shrugged off my flats, leaving them beside the doormat.

My stocking coated, patted over to where Noel sat, I settled on the sofa, close to him.

“Hi,” I greeted softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Noel looked up at me, his blue eyes staring at me with curiosity. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. You know work.”

“That bloke still givin’ you trouble?”

Of course, Noel had been made aware of Mr. Jones’ behaviour. He was the one I was talking out my neck to about him.

“Same old,” I shrugged, “still a knob.”

“Dunno why ya put up that knob, I’d tell ‘im to get stuffed.” Noel sighed, setting his guitar on a stand to the side. “You’ve got twice the brains than the tosser.”

“Thanks,” I chuckled, “but in a building with more suits than a boutique, that doesn’t really matter.”

“Lots of suits, not enough fuckin’ brains to make up fer it if you’re not fit to be giving order. Lad’s got a useless degree an’ now he thinks he’s God or summat.”

The irony wasn’t missed, still that placed a smile on my face—a genuine one. He could tell all he wanted that he had no way with words except with pen and paper, but whenever words—minimal as they may be—left his lips, they flooded my senses. I could almost feel myself becoming defenceless, his sentences building palaces in my mind and the most gorgeous of cathedrals.

“Speakin’ of fit...” I smirked, moving down to the floor beside him. “You’re looking particularly good in that shirt.”

Noel chuckled, a tint of pink slowly rising on his neck and the tips of his ears. “Shut up.”

“I mean it.” My eyes trailed down his torso appreciatively.

Noel turned his head away, but with a pull of his chin using my fingers, I set his gaze right back me.

Noel wore a tight-fitting white shirt, a rare occurrence that was very much appreciated for every second my eyes lingered on it. “Work’s shit, but seeing you like this...” I bit my lip, smirking, “just makes me feel better.”

Noel pulled me close, his lips pressed against my own, slow and without a need to hurry—like there was all the time in the world.

A soft sigh of relaxation escaped my lips, almost involuntarily. My hands gripped his shoulders, as passion and feverous overtook the kiss.

“Reckon you’ve had a shite day, then. Don’t worry I’ve got a few tricks up me sleeves.” Noel took control, nudging me back slowly, his body pressing over mine deliberately. “You in this gettup, it’s doin’ things to me.”

“Oh, yeah?” I teased.

Noel didn’t respond, instead, his attached to my neck, pushing past the wrinkled collar. His hands slowly made work of the buttons that stood proudly against my chest, barricading them.

He slowly kissed above my bra-cupped breasts; the feeling was truly something otherworldly.

He went lower and lower, peppering my skin with kisses, until he reached my lower stomach. He stopped above the waistband of my skirt.

His hands went up my thighs, slowly pushing up my skirt. He kissed up my thighs, biting the stockings and yanking them down.

His fingers hooked my panty lines, his thumb stroking the small bow that stood proudly above it. The cotton material was soaked—I was certain of it. I felt the undergarment being slowly tugged down, until it was well passed my feet and out of the way.

Noel’s lips reunited with my thighs—my upper thighs this time, slowly inching up. He was almost teasing me with how excruciating slow he was going.

Then, finally, his lips met my bundle of nerves. The contact was brief, yet it was enough to omit a light shutter from my mouth. His tongue met my folds, swirling around. My hands raked through his dark hair. Noel groaned when I softly tugged at his hair, the vibration made me gasp.

I bit my lower lip, my legs wrapping around Noel’s shoulders as my hips bucked forward, desperate for more. Noel’s nose crudely brushed against my clit, sending a wave of heat with a tsunami-like force within me. A soft squeak escaped my lips as the pressure was building up.

“Ah—mph—yeah, right there.” I whined.

Noel changed his angle, his pace increasing along with it. My grip on his hair tightened. It was truly too much. Just thinking about it—Noel in between my legs, like a starved man on a mission—was tipping me over the edge.

His tongue thrusted in and out, while his nose made work on my clit. It took a few more thrusts for that rush of euphoria to burst in and for the orgasm to rip through.

I screamed as I came in Noel’s mouth, the intensity making my legs shake. Noel kept going at it, slowly easing me out of my pleasure until I softened beneath him.

I took a few seconds of me trying to regain control on my breathing before Noel rose back up. Nothing needed to be said—absolutely nothing at all. I grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him close until our lips touched. I could taste remnants of myself that still remained. I felt connected to him, not just in the physical sense, but in every sense that the word connected meant.

“Better?” He asked.

“Much better.” I smiled.

#noel gallagher x reader #oasis x reader #noel gallagher #oasis band #oasis #britpop x reader #britpop #gallagher brothers #fluff #british man #noel gallagher x you #Noel gallagher fanfiction #fanfiction

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kairiscorner · 2 years ago

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volleyball player gojo does something to the brain (a very good thing)

–the team's pretty little manager.

volleyball player!satoru gojo x manager!fem!reader

the squeaking of shoes against the reflective and shiny hardwood floors filled the entire indoor court as the jujutsu high men's volleyball team was practicing for the regionals. the only two practicing right now while waiting for the others were none other than the dynamic duo of satoru gojo, the cocky yet strongest wing spiker the team has to offer—and suguru geto, the most talented server they have on the team, the only one who can match satoru's insatiable dynamic in and out of the court. the two were being themselves as usual, trying to outplay each other in an aggressively friendly fashion while making idle chitchat or gossiping to each other about the ongoings of their lives.

the conversation eventually came around the topic of the prettiest girl in all of jujutsu high, which satoru snorted at as he spiked suguru's serve back at his court a little too hard. "like any girls here actually interest me." satoru said with a gagging expression and his tongue stuck out, as if to express his disgust and disappointment at such a boring question. suguru chuckled as he got the ball back and bounced it before serving, smirking at satoru with a knowing smirk. "really now, satoru? i suppose it wouldn't be too out of character for you to play along with a group of girls praising you," suguru pointed out as he took a few steps back and readied his serving stance, aiming the ball at satoru's court while satoru readied himself to save the ball in case it'd land in his court. "though... it would be a bit out of character for you to be a total liar, wouldn't it?" his dear friend asked him rhetorically as suguru threw the ball upwards and sprinted forward a little to serve it back at satoru's court.

satoru was quick on his feet and ran to save the ball, but his reflexes were a bit slow that moment, and the ball entered his court even further. he sighed and rubbed at his head angrily with a pouty face. "don't act like you can read all that into me now, suguru." he told him as he went off to get the ball, his face crinkled into an annoyed glare, which his friend chuckled slightly and shook his head at. "it's not my fault you're too obvious. you clearly don't see her as just 'some girl' or a groupie in your fan club—you are interested in her—" "no way in hell." satoru muttered as he bounced the ball on his court. "there's no way i'm into that little runt." he denied with a huff. "she keeps warning me about my haircut, saying crap like it's 'against the school rules' to have hair this long; as if my spiky hair'll keep me from being the best damn spiker this school's got!" he exclaimed as he ran up and served the ball—or, tried serving the ball—but he missed hitting it and it merely fell over to his feet, angering the white haired youth even more.

suguru chuckled loudly at his friend's sloppy serve. "yeah, this is why coach yaga left that position to me. anyway..." suguru trailed off as he walked over to satoru's court, signaling for the two of them to take a break from practice. he placed a hand on satoru's shoulder and watched as his friend's eyebrows furrowed slightly and his cheeks seemed a bit pinkish—and something told suguru it wasn't because of the humidity in the room or the exercising and practices they did. suguru smiled at him and pat his shoulder. "you gotta be honest, you do think she's the prettiest little manager, don't you, satoru?" he teased his friend as he chucked the ball at suguru and groaned. "if you wanna keep putting words in my mouth, maybe you should just marry her if you like sucking up to her that much." "what if i will when we're older? who's to say?" suguru suggested with a coy tone, making satoru stop in his tracks from putting the ball back into the ball rack. "...like i care." "that's basically you saying you do." "look, she's... she's smart, smarter than i am sometime, that much i'll admit. she's cute, when she's not being a little prissy pants—and she's... she's got a smile some decent guy with good morals has to protect, or else, i'm gonna..."

"gonna what, gojo?" asked a familiar voice, making gojo's aquamarine eyes go wide. he slowly turned around and saw the little runt of a cute manager with a smile worth protecting right behind him. suguru excused himself and ran off to get some water, leaving you two alone together. satoru yelled after him and tried running up to get some water with him as an excuse, but you pulled him by the sleeve and kept him there. "do go on..." you told him in an interested, yet sort of shy, tone; you knew satoru could be a suck-up, cocky asshole, but you were intrigued about this secret side of him. satoru groaned and leaned his face forward to meet yours and furrowed his eyebrows up at you. "or else i'm gonna do this if you won't let me go, runt." he said as he cupped your face with his larger hand and squeezed the life out of your cheeks, smirking to himself at how you resembled an adorable little pufferfish, making him laugh aloud and smile. of course, he liked you—a lot; but he'd never admit it. only from a distance will he let himself call you 'the team's prettiest little manager' and tease the hell out of you.

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ghoulie-67-baby · 1 year ago

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Partners in crime - Shadowhunters.

Summary: You’re Magnus Bane’s best friend and fellow warlock, when Shadowhunters ask for help you take the job together.

Warning: Mentions of nightmares, skimpy pyjamas (idk what you’d call them tbh), playful teasing between friends, fluff.

Pairing: Magnus bane x Warlock!reader (Platonic).

Word count: 1,336.

The sun scorched across my face through a gap in the curtains. I dramatically huffed as I glared at the curtains in disdain, knowing I wouldn't fall asleep again. I stretched with an obnoxiously loud yawn, humming contently as my bones popped in a chorus.

Discomfort quickly set in from the glaring light and I raked my fingers through my hair before swinging my legs from the bed and trudging towards the door. My dreams had kept me up a good portion of the night and in the end, I crawled into bed with Magnus which kept them at bay.

"Mags?" I called through the quiet loft, "Mags, why do you never close the curtains properly?" I searched the loft half asleep for my flatmate only to come up empty. I straightened out my shorts as I wandered to the kitchen, letting the growl of my stomach lead me.

My pyjama vest rose up my stomach as I reached to grab a bowl and I shivered at the cold air of my exposed midriff.

Shuffling towards the living room, I failed to notice the gathering of people until the sound of someone clearing their throat caught my attention. I nodded hello to the group sleepily, gathering my thoughts as I ate my breakfast. I snapped out of my sleepy state as Magnus appeared in front of me protectively.

"Good morning, my dearest, I'll make sure to close them properly from now on shall I?" The question was rhetorical but I nodded anyway, placing my now empty bowl on the table. "Now, as much as I love seeing you half-dressed," Magnus teased with a playful wink. "I'm not sure how much longer Simon can watch without holding his drool back so how about we cover you up." I sighed but let his magic swirl around me, a beautiful, feathered robe appearing around my body.

The fabric brushed the ground as I stepped forward and planted myself into Magnus' chest in a tight hug. He reciprocated, both lost in the cuddle and temporarily forgetting about the group awkwardly standing behind him. Unfamiliar people weren't going to stop me from having my morning cuddle, they could wait.

"Thank you, my love," I whispered, pressing a small kiss to his cheek before peering up at him quizzically. "so, who do we have today?"

"Shadowhunters and Vampires," I moved to stand beside him, smiling at the small sea of faces, some of which smiled back whilst others remained blank. A huge smile overtook me and my eyes softened as my es met Raphael's gaze. I knew he had turned away when I appeared in my pyjamas, he always felt awkward and refused to see me in a vulnerable state, saying it wasn't proper. I understood considering Magnus and I had practically raised him since vampirism. Though he hated to admit it, he was my boy but he had a reputation to hold up and such so I let him seem hardened and cold, sometimes.

"Hello my lovely boy," I held his face in my hand gently, looking at his handsome face before putting my arms around him. He kissed my cheek and hugged me back before clearing his throat, letting me step back towards Magnus. I sniggered as he glared at the group of shocked Shadowhunters, daring them to say something. "Play nice Rafe."

"This is Y/N, best friend for all intents and purposes, partner in crime and partnering warlock." I grinned, bowing playfully at the group who stared at me strangely.

"Y/N, these are the Shadowhunters of the New York Institute. This is Alexander," I noticed the twinkle in his eye at that name. "Jace, Clarissa and Isabelle. The new vampire is Simon, he's with Raphael." He gestured to each respectively and I looked over each of them.

"Nice to meet you all. What can we do for you then?" I let my eyes stay on Alexander a little longer than the others, taking in his tall muscular stature and handsome face.

"So, are you two, like, a thing or?" He trailed off and I raised an eyebrow, looking up at Mags and our grins matched.

"No," I chuckled, shaking my head, "We've been best friends and partners for a few centuries. Most people do assume that though." A gentle hand squeezed my hip and I leant into it softly.

"You seem close enough, you're kind of handsie too," I raised a curious eyebrow at the young vampire, enjoying his curiosity though going off the look on Raphael's face he didn't.

"We've lived together for a long time, and known each other even longer. We come as a pair, can't have one without the other but that doesn't have to mean we're together in that way." I grinned at him, my magic swirling through my fingers languidly. "Curiosity is a fine thing Simon but you should be careful who you're curious about, might just bite you in the ass." I chided him softly, using a small spell to deliver a small biting sensation on his butt. He yelped and jumped, laughing nervously, but grinning widely all the same. I liked him, he seemed sweet.

"And you wonder why Raphael doesn't play nice," Magnus tutted, an amused twinkle in his eye. I hummed before turning back to the matter at hand.

"Now, I've heard you're causing quite the stir in the Shadow world Clary Fray, what is Magnus getting us into now?"

"I need help getting my Mom back, Valentine has taken her," A shiver ran down my spine at that name but I motioned for her to continue. "I don't know where he's taken her but I could do with all the help I can get and I've been told you guys are the best warlocks to ask." I thought about it seriously, biting my lip as I did. "I don't want to cause any trouble but Magnus knows about some of my past memories, ones he blocked that could help me find her." I walked towards her, cupping her face in my hands, hushing her gently. I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let my thumb wipe away one of her tears with a gentle smile.

"Sweet girl, we'll help however we can as long as it's not a threat to the Downworld." She nodded gratefully, mouthing her thanks as her chest shuddered with a heavy breath. "I can't promise we can remove them but we can damn well try."

"Mama, it's not that simple." Raphael interrupted, looking furious. "We shouldn't get involved in shadowhunter business. They cause nothing but trouble for us." He spoke through gritted teeth, a hard glare fixed on Jace who leered back at him. These two obviously didn't get along.

"Rafe, sweetie, you can't justify not helping them because of that. That would make us just as bad as the Clave now wouldn't it?" I crossed my arms, looking at him disapprovingly. We raised him better than this, his anger was just clouding his judgement. "If things get too much then we'll walk away won't we Mags?" I glanced towards my partner who agreed with me. "You know that's how we work, my darling, we don't bite off more than we can chew." I made sure to emphasise so the Shadowhunters knew where we stood, looking pointedly at Jace whose glare never faltered. Perhaps my comment about the Clave had touched a nerve.

"Well, if you come back tomorrow we can get started, we have stock to replenish and things to organise, I'm sure you understand." Magnus began to shoo them closer to the door, waving them goodbye as I hugged Raphael. He paid special attention to bidding Alexander goodbye and I couldn't help my smirk as I made him a drink. It was 5 o'clock somewhere in the world after all.

"I can't help but feel like the next few days are to be exhausting." I handed the glass to him and nodded solemnly. There was no doubt about that.

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fortunekookie07 · 3 months ago

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Dance with Me - Caleb

Finally the day had arrived. You walked to the den and found Caleb sitting at the table working quietly. His back is bent over his current project. You never really understood his fascination with putting together these models when he flew the real thing. But it made him happy to assemble the tiny versions.

Sometimes, you loved to sit and watch him work. The concentrated look on his face was so cute. His eyes would be narrowed, and his brow would be furrowed as he carefully put the small pieces together.

You call his name softly and wait until he turns around before presenting him with the box you were holding.

Placing the small box in Caleb's hand with a grin, you sit next to him. "Didn't we agree, no gifts this year?" He asks, setting down the wrench. The pieces of his model are scattered across the table.

You kiss his cheek. "This is one gift you don't want to miss." He eyes you and then the box before grasping the ribbon and tugging. The simple bow knot comes undone. Pulling the lid up, he stares down at a black and white picture.

Confusion furrows his brows as he picks it up and stares at the image. Slowly, a smile stretches across his face. "You mean?" He asks, looking at you with pure joy. "Mhh hmmm." You nod vigorously.

He pulls you up with him and starts dancing around the kitchen and into the living room. You laugh as he spins you around in a crazy rhythm.

"Caleb, what are you doing?" He brings you in close, and you can hear the thumping of his heart. "Dance with me!" He can't contain his enthusiasm. Finally, you collapse on the couch, but it seems he still has energy to spend.

"I'm going to be a farher!" He shouts and then runs to the door and throws it open before shouting the same sentence from the open door.

You shake your head at your childish husband. Eventually, he comes back to where you're seated and sits down before laying his head in your lap. Turning to face your still flat stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist. "How far along are you?" He mumbles into your stomach. Whether he is asking you or the growing baby, you're not sure.

"Almost ten weeks." You brush your fingers through his hair. You can feel his smile against your stomach. Is this why you've been weird with food lately." You know it's a rhetorical question.

Having grown up together your whole life, Caleb is more than familiar with your eating habits. "Yeah, Tara went with me to the doctor for a checkup last week. She was almost as excited as you were. Don't worry, you are the first to find out."

Caleb gets up and then pulls you up and into his arms. "Ca-Caleb! Where are we going!" You laugh as he waltzes over to the bedroom and throws the door open with his evol.

"There's still time! We might be able to make them twins!" You laugh at this man, with his vast understanding of sciences, saying something so absurd. But he won't hear of it and so you end up spending the rest of the day in your bedroom. He hardly let you up to eat or use the bathroom.

You stroke his bare back, listening to him snore softly as you lay tucked into his arms.

The path to your current relationship had been incredibly difficult. With all the secrets he'd tried to keep from you on his desperate and somewhat deranged path to keeping you safe. Then there was the aftermath when those secrets had come to life.

His mental health had hit an all-time low, and he'd come close to calling these life quits. It was honestly a miracle that you'd made it to today.

"This life isn't easy, but I hope you'll help me take care of your daddy." You say softly stroking your stomach.

Being with Caleb wasn't easy. Despite having known him your whole life, he felt like a stranger when he came back. A strange pretending to be the protector you'd always known.

When everything came to light and all his secrets, pain, and suffering were laid bare, it had been brutal.

Caleb was willing to end it all. If he couldn't have you, he didn't want anything anymore.

You still remembered the desperate look on his face that day. The raw fear in his eyes as he thought you were going to walk away from him. You hadn't been sure of what you wanted until that point.

But when you sank to your knees in front of him and hugged him, all had seemed right, like you just knew it was all going to be ok. You knew you didn't want to lose your best friend, and you found the strength and courage in your heart to save him.

Caleb had stood trial, and people were ready to throw the book at him. It was only when evidence came to light that he hadn't been acting of his own free will that changed everything.

He'd gone from the monster seeking to destroy the city to a victim. Forced to act against his will and better nature. The looks of pity they gave him had been almost as bad as their anger.

He still suffered from that time. His nightmares were terrible. Sometimes, he would cry in his sleep. Only holding onto him and assuring him he was not alone helped.

So, to say it had been a difficult year was an understatement. It has taken months to get Caleb reinstated in the DAA. His friends and fellow pilots had welcomed him back with open arms. Ready to have him at their side once more. Some friends really would stand with you through hell and high water.

Picking up pieces of a broken life was worth it in the end. When you got the news, the first person you wanted to tell was Caleb. You'd even sworn Tara to secrecy until you could break the news

Unconsciously, Caleb holds you closer, and you drift off to sleep.

****************************************************

Here we go with story 2!

Caleb was difficult for me to write, in that I struggle with adding depth to this story for him. I knew I wanted to have a theme for all five guys and I started with a thought, making very sure no story is the same and I believe I have succeeded, a you'll find out in thevdays to come.

I know Caleb was introduced near the beginning of MCs story, but his character is still very unknown to me. Hence my great struggle with keeping to what I do know.

So please don't come for me! I did put my best effort into this.

#love and deepspace #lnds #love and deepspace caleb #lnds caleb #love and deepspace fic #lnds fic #love and deepspace caleb x reader #lnds caleb x reader #sweet #little angst #love and deepspace fluff #valentines day #fortunekookie07

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yourmomsgranddad · 5 months ago

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— THERE GOES THE SPIDER

— PAIRING: Kate Bishop x fem!Stark!reader

— SUMMARY: How do you lose a man? (You forget to cherish him.)

— WORD COUNT: 4.8k

— WARNINGS: based off the episode of 9-1-1, but also hangover, peter and mj wedding, reader and peter dated in the past, reader is a lesbian, peter and y/n being the best friends, cursing

You groaned as your eyes broke open.

What happened last night?

You looked around the room and you didn't recognize anything around you.

You weren't in your room at home. You weren't in Peter's room at his apartment. The bedding was too nice and you could see the living room from the bed.

This was a hotel.

When did you get to a hotel?

A soft groan could be heard beside you. Your eyes went wide. You didn't want to move. Who did you go to bed with last night?!

"Where the hell am I?" The mystery person voiced.

You reached over to grab the blanket and cover your face. You were suddenly embarrassed. You recognized that voice.

You almost didn't want to breathe in fear of her spotting you.

"Who is that?" She shoved, pushing you slightly but you kept the blanket in place, not showing anything.

"It's me, Kate."

Sound stopped, she knew your voice too.

You slowly brought the blanket down, causing her to hit you with her pillow. "What are you doing in my bed? And why are you wearing a bright pink quinceañera dress?"

You looked down in confusion and surely enough, she wasn't lying. Underneath the plush white hotel blanket laid a bunch of pink poofs covered in pink glitter that seemed to have painted the sheets beneath you.

"I don't know what's weirder about this situation. The fact I'm wearing a quinceañera dress or that you know what that is." Kate's lips made a thin line as if she was embarrassed by how she knew what they were. But you didn't feel the need to peel that back, there were more pressing matters at the moment.

You went back to scanning the room as if you weren't in bed with one of your best friends at the moment.

The room seemed to be trashed. Piles and piles of food containers opened on the floor and whatever its contents were caked in the carpet. Another pile of jackets on top of a very huge spill. And what seemed to be a snoring body underneath a throw.

You squinted for a second, making sure you were sure until your eyes went wide. "I think there's someone over there." You told Kate whose eyes went right to where you were looking, her face reflecting yours.

Kate was quick to leave the bed, going to search it immediately. But she fell back into the bed as if something was weighing her down.

She looked down at her hand and weirdly enough, there was a handcuff around it.

You both physically paused, looking at each other in astonishment.

"This all seems eerily familiar."

You squinted your eyes in suspicion while Kate identified the cuff. It seemed to be connected to a chain which she followed under to the pillow. She lifted it up, revealing a very sparkly pink suitcase.

"Where the fuck did that come from?!" Kate shouted, looking at the suitcase in terror.

"What happened last night?" You rubbed your head. At this point, that question was rhetorical, neither of you knew the answer and you were just waiting for someone to yell out all the answers.

Suddenly the body on the couch began to move, moving the blanket off of his face as he woke up.

Both you and Kate stared at the action in anticipation.

Out popped bright silver hair that was absolutely rustled in every way possible. You would recognize it anywhere.

You jumped out of bed, crawling over to the couch.

You gave him a harsh shove until his eyes opened. He gave a sleepy smile that made you somehow a little more mad about your situation.

"Cute dress." He commented, his deep Sokovian accent cutting through the silence.

"Dude! Where are we? Why is Kate handcuffed to a sparkly suitcase?" You basically shook him even harder which wasn't agreeing with the alcohol that was definitely still in his system.

"Not sure, still drunk, ask Ned." He muttered before falling back into his pillow and closing his eyes.

"Where is he?" You wondered loudly, shaking him again, more agitated than before. Pietro reached for the pillow by his feet, lifted it up, and threw it presumably at Ned's position, all with his eyes closed.

"Ned!" He shouted.

Just then Ned rose up from the stained jacket pile, looking like a zombie, pushing them all to the ground. You watched in disgust, your expression reflected on Kate's face as well.

"You're sitting in a stain, Ned!" You complained, a whine apparent in your speech. You felt bad for him but he didn't seem concerned.

"It's fine, it's only vodka. I'm soaking it up in my pants." He nodded it off as if it wasn't that important. But on the list of the things of most importance, it was at the bottom.

"Where are we?" Kate shouted from the bed. Everyone's eyes went to her as they didn't even know she were here.

"Oh easy. We're in Peter's hotel room. This is the one Mister Stark got for him since he wanted to keep with the tradition of not sleeping next to the bride the night before the wedding."

You and Kate let out a tiny breath; one question off the list.

"Where's Peter, Ned?" You felt like this was an obvious question but you still felt the need to ask it.

"Oh I don't know." He fell back into his leakage.

You looked down at the floor, what were you going to do? And where was Peter?

A loud knock was heard on the front door.

"Yo, Pete!" Your recognized that voice of your father. You shivered as if you were getting in trouble as a kid. "Better get a move on, kid! I'm not the one getting married today! You are!"

What to do? What to do?!

"Um Peter will be up in a second, Dad! We're still trying to wake him up." You lied, you looked behind you to see Kate making a disappointed face at you. But you couldn't take back your lie.

"Tell him we need to put feet on the ground. MJ's not going to wait all day!" Then as quickly as he came, you could hear his shoes step away from the door and you knew you were in the clear.

Jeez, what happened last night?

The night started off so normal too.

You were sitting on Peter's bed and he was switching between ties nervously.

"Which one, seriously?" He turned to you but you could not be anymore uninterested.

"Who cares what I think? Choose whatever tie you want."

"You should. It's the tie you're going to have to sit next to all night."

You lit up immediately, grabbing the one beside you, throwing it across the room. "Well burn that orange monstrosity."

"Oh come on, Y/n. How are you a lesbian and hate the color orange?"

"Not every woman who likes women is a lesbian, douche-rag! But I don't know." You deflated. He kind of got you in a box. He couldn't help but chuckle before looking at you concerned and confused.

"Did you date me because I looked like a girl?"

"No. Actually, I broke up with you because you didn't. But who cares? You're getting married tomorrow!"

"Just—i'm worried. What if, in a few years, one of MJ's friends convince her that I look girly and that she should divorce me? I couldn't handle that. And neither will Luke and Leia, our future kids who will get separated in the divorce. They won't survive, Y/n!"

His voice was strained as he began biting his nails.

How had this nervous wreck created one of the best proposals ever seen, said so from Ned?

"Well MJ is smarter than that. One. And two, I'm friends with her and I promise I won't badmouth you." He let out a chuckle, the first one since you had gotten here.

He texted you and told you it was urgent.

Who knew urgent meant what he should wear tonight; tonight was his bachelor party.

"I don't know what I'm worried about. She wouldn't have said yes if she didn't mean it." You nodded.

"It's going to be fine, Parker!" You reassured him as you walked over to him, standing behind him in the mirror. "We're going to party very hard tonight and then tomorrow is going to be the greatest day of your life, okay?"

"I invited Kate," he muttered, his eyes closed as he didn't want to see the look on your face, he already knew what it looked like.

"MJ's about to be a widow."

You raised your hand to hit him as he flinched and ducked.

"We're not married yet! Don't hurt me! I'm just trying to help you!" He stood up slowly, causing you to put your hand down in anger, instead vying to cross your arms.

"You two like each other! I'm just removing a few obstacles, jeez!"

"Y/n? Y/n!"

You zapped back to the present, looking at Kate who was shouting down at you, she was now standing in front of you, suitcase dangling beside her.

"What are we going to do?! We don't know where Peter is! He's supposed to be getting married in a few hours."

So many questions.

And no answers came to your mind.

Your eyes began darting around the room, looking for something, anything to help you.

But there was nothing.

You glanced at the clock.

It was 12:45.

Peter was getting married at 4.

You had time.

"Ok, here's what we're going to do. We have at least 2 hours before Peter has to be at the altar. The location is only a few minutes away. That means we have to find him ourselves before my dad or MJ start freaking out, okay?" Everyone nodded, taking in what you said.

"So are we going to do in the meantime?" Kate wondered, not looking at you, more examining the weird case still attached to her wrist.

"This hotel has a dry cleaner, I know that for a fact. Our clothes should be down there. I'll take Pietro with me, we'll get our clothes and some coffee in his system. Kate, you see if you can get the case off your hand or the stain out the carpet."

You all nodded and you were gone, grabbing Pietro and going to the door.

"Um, it says here, Miss Stark, your dry cleaning was delivered to your room. No one was in there so they left it on the bed."

You and Pietro looked at each other in confusion. "No one? We just left the room and there were two people in it." You mentioned. The man behind the counter began typing violently.

"Nope, no one was seen when they dropped off your clothes."

You were beginning to make a timeline of events in your mind.

You remembered seeing Peter last night but he wasn't in the room with the rest of you.

You know you were in the room a few minutes ago.

But for some reason, it wasn't on the hotel's radar.

Now you were wondering even bigger; what the fuck happened last night?

"So many questions arise, all unanswered." Ned replied. You had relayed all the facts you had gotten from the man at the front desk and it didn't give anything helpful.

You tried to think, to keep everything in your mind clearly but it was kind of hard considering Ned's butt was in front of the fan; apparently that's how he was going to get the vodka out of his pants; it was not working in the slightest.

You looked around the room, maybe something would pop out and scream at you.

A wrapper.

You jumped out of your seat rapidly and flew over to the bed. Weirdly enough, it was wedged in between the bed and the floor. You fished it out with ease.

Why did it look so familiar?

"What's that?" Pietro wondered, taking a sip of his coffee, looking at you as if you were crazy.

But you didn't notice; your brain was calculating where you knew it from.

Lightbulb!

Your eyes went wide as you looked at your friends with urgency in your eyes.

"I know where to look next."

Running down the street Home Alone-style was not easy in a quinceañera dress, you were learning.

But you were determined for answers to your questions.

And your questions lead you to a place of absolute familiarity; Delmar's sandwich shop, a place you knew all too well considering it's one of Peter's favorite places. It made sense that's where you would get answers.

You pushed through the door and slammed the counter as if he owed you money. Mr. Delmar was immediately startled.

"Miss Stark, what are you doing here? The wedding is happening soon!" He stressed; he was aware of the schedule as well, he WAS invited.

"I understand that, Mister Delmar, believe me, I do. But I'm here because I think we came here last night." Your tone couldn't sound more unsure, you weren't absolutely confident of your words. But you hoped he could give you some type of certainty.

Luckily, he seemed to know what you were grabbing at.

"Yes, you did."

As Mr. Delmar recounted what he remembered from your visit to his shop last night, you could feel your memories returning.

Peter could tell how awkward things were between you and Kate were considering you hadn't said anything to her as she entered the limo that your dad bought you. Although your eyes hadn't left her once.

He didn't know how to bring you two together. He scooted closer to you and just gave you a look; a look you wished he would stop giving you. A look that just spoke 'tell me now, whatever it is'.

"Staring is rude. Why don't you talk to her?" He asked, trying to be subtle. Limos weren't exactly private places.

"What would I say to her, Pete? 'I think you're pretty, you should kiss my mouth?'"

"Yes, that's exactly what you should say to her."

You rolled your eyes, he couldn't be serious.

"I'm not joking, Y/n/n. It worked with MJ."

"But you and MJ were made for each other, America's favorite couple. I don't even know if Kate's gay."

*She was wearing a suit to the night's events.

"Something tells me she might be."

Your face crumpled as you looked at him incredulously. "Why should I listen to your gaydar? We dated for a year!" You whisper-shouted.

His face reflected yours. "Girl, we dated for a year! Why should I listen to you?!" You couldn't hide the giggle that spat from your mouth, he wasn't wrong.

"All I'm saying is that I might not be able to talk to her comfortably until I've had a few drinks and something to eat."

His eyebrow raised; Peter smelled something he could help with.

Just then, he leaned forward, grabbing two champagne glasses and a full bottle of champagne.

"One of those things I can help out with right now," he began as he was pouring you both a drink immediately. "The other thing?" He banged on the window, grabbing the driver's attention so he would roll the partition down.

"Take us to Delmar's please."

He nodded as your smile began to grow. You hated that he knew you so well.

"So Peter was with us when we got here." Sadly Ned was voicing the one thing that was bouncing off your head. But you dare not ask that question; you wouldn't get the answer that you want.

"Did we say anything about where we were going next, Mister Delmar?"

He shook his head, causing your panic to grow.

"Your mouths were full of sandwich. All I know is that you were yelling at the man driving you, unintelligible nonsense."

Driver? Dang, you forgot Happy was driving you all night. Maybe he had some answers!

"Thanks, Mr. Delmar, for your help. I'll see you at the wedding later." He nodded solemnly.

As you were slumping out of the store with a destination, you could hear briefly under Pietro's breath, "If there is a wedding."

You turned around immediately, stopping everyone from exiting.

"What if I just killed you right now? With my bare hands." You threatened, your face not matching your words.

His eyes squinted; he wasn't about to back down.

"How would that look? 'Daughter of famous tech tycoon kills boy from starving country.' Say goodbye to your poofy dresses, prinţesă." He fluffed your dress before running off at full speed.

"I hate him so bad." You jokingly said into the sky, your eyes fully closed.

"If it makes you feel better," your eyes opened to reveal Kate standing in front of you, struggling to hold her suitcase. "You are working that dress."

You knew she was only joking but it didn't stop the heat that fanned your cheeks.

But that wasn't important right now.

Finding Peter was.

So you both set off down the street, going where you knew you shouldn't.

The wedding venue.

Everyone's eyes were on you. It was fair, you were in a pink poofy dress, it was out of the norm. Especially at your best friend's wedding.

You found Happy immediately.

Luckily, he was doing what you expecting him to be doing; bothering Aunt May while she was helping.

"Hey, Happy. Do you think you can come over and answer this question?" You wondered, looking around, hoping no one was looking at you (everyone was).

"Where did the dress come fr-" You didn't give him time to finish, grabbing him and snatching him off to the side. He was going to take too long to get there anyway.

"Where did we go last night?!" You whispered, maybe gripping Happy a little too hard.

"The sandwich shop." He seemed a little nonchalant. You wondered if he would remain that way when he noticed Peter was missing.

"After!" Kate shoved, accidentally hitting him with the suitcase.

"Where did that suitcase come from?!" He rubbed the spot.

"That's what we want to know!" Kate shook with anticipation.

"Um, after the sandwich shop, you guys made me take you to a bachelorette party that was happening at a hotel close-by. I was confused but okay." He shortly explained; you felt it coming back.

You guys had a few more drinks in the limo and eventually you started losing it. But you weren't at the point where you felt like you could talk to Kate.

"Maybe if we had a better setting." You slurred to Peter as you were buying your sandwiches.

You didn't know how you got so drunk, it felt like you only had one drink. But you didn't count.

Suddenly, Pietro came slumping in, grabbing you and Peter by the shoulder so you could hear him better. "These bachelorette girls just invited us to their party. It's at a hotel down the street. Can we go?"

On a normal night, Peter was known to say 'no' to all Pietro's weird single activities—he invited Peter to a lot and he had to keep telling him he's engaged—but tonight for a reason that was not apparent to you yet, he said yes.

Pietro skipped up in glee, he was lucky you were drunk. Or else, you would made fun of him all night.

You gave your best friend a sideways glance, this was unlike him. But he just gave you a smirk. "Found your setting."

He grabbed your done sandwiches and your arm before running back to the limo.

"Being surrounded by all those drunk girls, you can try out your lines. Get out your jitters before you try going for the big leagues." Peter slurred. You wanted to blame it on the beer googles but he was making some type of sense. You had no problem talking to random girls, Kate was the thing you were scared of.

—

You found yourself being very comfortable with the bachelorette girls. It was very easy, they weren't looking for anything and neither were you.

You were just having fun. And drinking. A lot.

You had lost Peter and the others as you got into the party, you figured they were just having fun.

That was until Pietro found you, looking very frightened.

"What's up, P?" You wondered, mid drink. "I thought I was hitting on one of the bridesmaids. It was the bride and her soon-to-be husband wants to kill me. We have to go." He grabbed your hand and basically dragged you back to the group. Well Ned.

Ned was hanging out at the door, chatting up some girl when you came up to him, out of breath. While Pietro recounted what he said to you, you noticed something.

"Ned, where are Peter and Kate?"

"Forgetting their son and leaving him home alone?" He joked, making both boys let out a drunken giggle.

"No. Peter Parker and Kate Bishop." He shrugged.

"And that's all I know." Happy finished. "I lost you guys after that. New York is a big city." He seemed nonchalant as if the groom wasn't missing.

"But if Kate was with Peter and we have Kate with us, where's Peter?" Pietro inquired, already trying to get his hands on their finger foods.

"He's at the hotel." MJ came out of nowhere, smacking his hand before he could touch. You all froze, you didn't know how to finish having your conversation with her there. "He's not missing."

"Huh?" You, Pietro, and Kate all shouted at the same time, causing all the eyes to turn back to you.

"Peter? He's at your hotel." She also seemed a little too nonchalant but that was just MJ's aura. "How do you know this?" Kate said.

"Because you called me."

You all shared looks, hoping you all would just know the answer from just seeing one another.

"You called me crying, saying I was going to be a widow because you lost Peter. I had to explain to you that's not how that works. And we found him and Kate fighting a bunch of drag queens in front of a bank. They were robbing it." MJ explained, very deadpan.

"Is that a hate crime? That feels like a hate crime." Ned mentioned before he joined Pietro in his quest to grab the hors d'oeuvres.

"Wait. Is that where the suitcase came from?" MJ gave a nod. "It's full of cash. I called the cops but it's New York, there was a million muggings happening, people getting shot. So you decided to keep it. I don't know why you hand-cuffed it to yourself."

"In the hotel?" That was the part you were stuck on. "Where? We were in the room. He wasn't there."

"You lost Peter?!" You froze at the sound of his voice. You felt like you were in high school again. You turned around slowly to see your dad, seething. At least it wasn't May.

"Kind of. He wasn't in the room when we woke up."

He wanted to question the dress but it was last on the list.

"I don't know how not. I sent you guys up the elevator and I saw you go to the room." MJ seemed confused but now since she drew the lines, you could perfectly color in the picture of the rest of the night.

"We were kind of pissed you ended our night. So we left out the back stairway." You explained, your mouth a thin line. "And Peter didn't come with us. He wanted to go to bed. So he went in the room."

"Well what was the number of the room he went into?" Your dad was now playing detective with the rest of the group. Luckily you could see clearly now. "297, the room we woke up in."

Without any type of warning, you let out a loud gasp, catching everyone's attention.

"We were in the wrong room!"

That was all you said before you took off, out of the venue with everyone following after you.

"We were in 297. But I guess since we were drunk, the number got jumbled and Peter realized." You clarified as you trudged through the hotel hallway, holding the pink madness so you didn't trip.

"He went to the right room and we didn't notice because we were out of it."

You finally were in front of the room, now you all froze.

Something hung in between all of you and none of you wanted to say it out loud.

"What if he actually lost?" Well, Pietro wanted to say it.

"Shut up!"

Your hand paused before it scanned the key on the door. You bursted inside with hope but...

"He's not here."

You sunk. You were sure you were correct. You saw him come into this room. If he wasn't here, where in the hell in New York could Peter Parker be?

"Should we call his phone?" Pietro questioned, his phone already open and looking for Peter's contact.

"Wouldn't matter. Peter could sleep through a tornado. May had to drown him in order for him to get to the SAT." You noted, sitting on the bed in anguish.

But you were very lucky that Pietro didn't listen to you, for once. Because he clicked on Peter's contact and let it ring.

You were about to tell him it was useless, that you should return to your search because this could be Home Alone 2. But then you heard Peter's ringtone ring throughout the room; it was Pocketful of Sunshine.

"He's here!"

You all sprawled out, looking in every corner, hoping for the sound to grow louder. You searched under every blanket, each cushion, even in the bathroom.

You were about to give up, maybe he left his phone in here.

But then you reached for the closet. You weren't even looking.

Yet there Peter was, curled up in a ball, sleeping on his blazer. "Peter?" You gave him a shove, no movement. If he were any other person, you would have thought him to be dead.

You were about to get the bucket when MJ pushed through everyone to get to him. If anyone were to be able to wake him up, it would be his soon-to-be wife.

And she did, very easily.

"Where am I?" He wondered, letting a long overdue yawn.

"The closet." You answered.

"Not anymore." He joked, causing you all to let out a little giggle. At least you knew his humor was still intact.

"Why are you in the closet?"

His face crumpled and you feared the worst. "I thought it was the bathroom."

"Ewwww!"

The wedding ended up being a success.

You figured the bachelor party was a warning, a warning for MJ and Peter not to get married. But they were America's favorite couple, nothing would deter them from each other.

No drag queens robbing banks. Not getting lost. No bachelorette parties in hotels. Nothing stopped their wedding.

You saw Peter unsure last night, wondering if MJ was going to want to marry him, become a Parker. But now, as you looked him, there was no sense of uncertainty. Just love.

It was beautiful.

—

Pietro was finally enjoying the hors d'oeuvres while you sat across from him, enjoying a Capri-sun. No more drinking after last night.

You tried to not make eye contact, Pietro was swallowing the mini hot dogs like they were nothing. He was like a rabid dog.

But your attention was taken off him when Kate began walking up to you, eyes full of wonder. You had almost forgot you had a crush on her, today was pretty hectic.

And she was just pretty.

Your cheeks felt hot, your throat felt like it was about to close.

"Want to dance?" She put her hand out, pulling you up out of your seat. She guided you out to the dance floor where MJ and Peter were already.

Her hands fell onto your middle as you began to groove to the slow music playing. Her eyes fell on yours and you felt like your legs were going to turn into putty.

But you couldn't ignore the question that had been plaguing your mind since last night. So you decided to ask it.

"Why did you run off last night?"

Kate looked to you, perturbed. So you decided to explain further.

"At the bachelorette party, you and Peter disappeared. Why?" She suddenly deflated, you felt like you did something wrong. You almost wanted to take it back immediately and forget it entirely. But she spoke first.

"I got jealous. Of you and the bachelorette girls. I know it wasn't anything but I felt it. And Peter ran after me. Since I was drunk, I spilled my guts and he snitched on you." She grimaced.

Your eyes went wide.

"MJ's about to be a widow. For real this time."

You went to break away from her to go put Peter in the chokehold he so obviously wanted but Kate grabbed your wrist, pulling you back.

Without warning, her hand fell upon your neck, pulling you in for a nice chaste kiss.

#help lol #marvel #marvel imagine #kate bishop #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop x female reader #michelle jones #mj watson #peter parker #pietro maximoff #the hangover #911 fox

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sunnystaytiny2018 · 5 months ago

Text

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ATEEZ Fanfiction

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Fandom: ATEEZ

Pairing: ATEEZ x Fem Reader

Genre: Smuttttt -maybe a few more- tttt

POV: First Person

Additional Tags: Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Rough, Mean punishments, multiple rounds, squirting, orgasm denial, choking, spanking, biting, jealous sex, established relationship, 0T8 x Reader, g x b, blindfold, blow jobs, multiple partners at once, cum licking, creampies, cum swallowing

Requested by @yuyuyuyumesblog

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I have been really misbehaving lately. My boyfriends had been so busy that they didn't seem to have time for me anymore. So I started acting out to get their attention. Not rejecting someone when they are clearly flirting with me and dancing around with other guys. I still hadn't gotten a reaction out of any of them, considering they weren't there. Or so I thought. So why the hell were my boyfriends standing there in our living room like it was an intervention?

“Um, I'm home.”

“Why were you out so late?” Hongjoong questioned me.

“I went clubbing.”

“Without us?” Wooyoung demanded and I frowned, feeling anger bubble in my chest.

“Every time I ask you're too busy! Every last one of you!” I yelled, my eyes watering from frustration.

“Oh! So you just go and grind on some other guy?!” Seonghwa demanded and I was taken aback, Seonghwa rarely ever yelled.

“How did-”

“You think we didn't have an eye on you at all times?” San asked, as if that was the most outlandish thing to think. Hongjoong set his laptop on the computer and showed me a video of me dancing near a guy. I never actually grinded up on anyone, I didn't want anyone but one of my boyfriends. But I let them close enough to cause jealousy.

“Get your ass to the room and strip. I better find you waiting in position for your punishment, baby girl.” My heart raced. I quickly skimmed over everyone to find I would in fact be punished by every single one of them. Fear and excitement swirled in my chest. “NOW.” I jumped and quickly headed to his room.

“Yes, Daddy.” I whimpered. I tripped half way down the hall but I quickly got up and hurried into his room, not wanting the punishment to be worse than they already planned because I wasn't ready by the time they got here. I stripped all my clothes off and scrambled on the bed into position. I sat on my knees with my palms upwards on my thighs. My head bowed down, not daring to look up especially as my boyfriends came into the room.

“Oh good, she listened. I'm sure she already knows her punishment won't be easy, right Baby?” Jongho asked as he titled my chin up. I remained silent knowing I wasn't supposed to reply, it was merely a rhetorical question.

“Well, tell you what. How about…” Yunho whispered as he slowly pulled a silk fabric over my eyes. “If you can guess who is pleasuring you, we can switch to the next person. He won't get to cum. But if you make a wrong guess or don't guess within 15 seconds… you don't to get to cum and he does.” The idea made my heart race and my pussy ached. This might be the harshest punishment yet. They had never denied me orgasms for so long.

“Color?” Hongjoong's voice broke through the darkness of my vision.

“Green.” I replied as hands immediately guided me to lay down and spread my legs.

“First person.” Hongjoong said as the bed dipped and someone moved between my legs and rubbed his hands on my legs. My legs turned from the intimate touch. I sucked in a breath as I tried to focus. His hands weren't on the bigger side of the members. So Yunho and Mingi were out of play. When I felt their tongue delve into my pussy I let out a whimper. Okay, not Hongjoong or Wooyoung. They prefer eating me out after destroying me. I breathed in their scent.

“Yeo-Yeosang?” I stuttered out as my back arched into his tongue.

“Wow, very good, baby.” Hongjoong praised and Yeosang increased the speed of his tongue and pushed a finger into my wet pussy. I let out a desperate cry due to the sudden contact. I hadn't had sexual contact or action for a while.

“Oh Yeosang!” I moaned at his soft touches accompanied with the feverish licks of his tongue. My hands tangled in his brown locks as I felt my body jolt and tense. “I'm close, baby.” I moaned as he added a second finger increasing the pleasure. My back arched as my body released a gentle and warm orgasm. Yeosang had to pull himself away and someone new replaced him.

I felt his hands drag on my thighs and I bit my lip. I think I may already know who it is. I'm not saying all of them don't like my thighs but there is one specific one who loves them. He always touches and marks them up. Maybe I knew my boys better than I thought. I really started out thinking I would fail over and over. I felt his lips on my thighs for only a second before spreading my legs and immediately pushed into me.

I let out a cry at the stretching but I tried to focus on the feeling of his dick. I want to cum again, so bad. But this definitely wasn't who I thought it was, since he would have spent much longer than that on my thighs. I could only think of one of the guys who didn't do as much foreplay, not that I mind. Sometimes I just want a good fuck without the extra steps to work up to it. But then again I love the foreplay too. The nicest thing about having 8 boyfriends is each one of them can satisfy certain needs that the others may not be able to.

I let out a moan as he snapped his hips, pushing deeper inside of me. His rhythm was familiar, well of course it was. His rhythm is strong and almost harsh. Yep, I knew who it was.

“Who is it, baby?” Hongjoong asked as I felt fingers slip to my clit as his hips began to snap faster. Shit wait, it wasn't Hongjoong?

“I-I don't know! I thought it was you, I- W-Wooyoung?” I asked as he sucked in a breath.

“Incorrect, Honey. You don't get to cum.” Hongjoong informed me and I whined out. I already had an orgasm building since the one between my legs started rubbing my clit and fucking my pussy like it's the best thing he's ever felt. He finally let his voice out after I got it wrong.

“Fuck~ You feel so good.” Jongho growled in my ear and it sent shivers of pleasure through my body. His voice and groans are too sexy. My legs tensed as I tried to hold it back

“Color, baby?

“Green.” I moaned out, the shake in my breath making it clear I was teetering on the edge.

“Hold it, baby.” Jongho groaned as his pace increased and he withdrew his hand from my clit.

“I-I can't. I can't hold it-” I whimpered out as my abdomen tensed painfully.

“Yes, you can, baby. And you better not cum.” Seonghwa instructed. I could hear the sound of some of the guys jerking themselves off while watching. Soft groans coming from different parts of the room.

“You look so sexy getting pounded into, baby.” Wooyoung praised from somewhere in the room. “Squirming and trying not to cum.” Jongho thrusted deeper before spilling himself inside of me. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I felt slight relief as he cummed inside of me. No longer having any stimulation that made my body want to orgasm. Jongho kneeled between my legs and looked down at me.

“I'll be back, baby.” Jongho purred and gave me a kiss before leaving the spot. It took a few seconds before the next person caused the bed to dip again. My legs were still trembling slightly from the previous stimulation but holding back the orgasm.

I felt the brush of jeans against my pussy and I smiled softly. This one I knew for sure. There was only one member who liked to have sex with his jeans still on. His hands squeezed and kneaded my sides making it even more clear that it was who I thought it was. His hands moved up to my breasts and squeezed them. A moan slipped out of my mouth at the dorm squeeze. His lips were on them, soft fluttering kisses around the nipples. Then his hot tongue was on my tits drawing out the loudest moan since this had started. I rubbed my thighs together as my pussy clenched. I moved my hand along his arms and to his hair.

“Mingi, please.” I moaned and I felt the smirk spread on his face.

“Okay, baby. As you wish.” He said as he began to rub my clit as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. My back arched at the feeling of his silver rings against my burning pussy. He began to suck harder on my nipples and I couldn't last any longer from the sensitivity.

“Mingi! I'm close.” I moaned before orgasming on his fingers. He pulls them out and he makes a loud slurping sound, telling me he just sucked his fingers clean of my juices. I shivered, feeling turned on all over again. God, Mingi was nasty and I fucking loved it.

“Next one, Sweetheart.” Seonghwa purred to me. I felt cum splatter on my stomach and a low groan from Yunho. I decided to do something sexy and I slowly trailed my hand from my breast to my stomach until I felt my fingers touch the now warm cum. I heard his breath hitch as someone else got on the bed. I scooped some on my finger and sucked my lips.

“Oh fuck, I can't. She's too sexy. I'm done playing this game. I need to fuck her.” Wooyoung growled from between my legs. He ripped the tie off of my face to see his feral look. He grabbed me by my thighs and yanked me down. “Fuck, you so pretty, baby. I might just cum in you the second I put it in.” He said before pushing into me. I let out a loud and desperate moan. Thank God, someone broke. I need them so fucking bad it hurts. I want to feel their cum leaking out of my pussy like their good little cum slut.

“Please! Fuck yes please, Woo.” I moaned as he began to fuck me. The other members joined us on the bed and hands were on me. One landed to hold my cheeks.

“Open wide, baby.” Hongjoong ordered and I opened my mouth obediently. Hongjoong smirked and pushed into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. I choked a little before adjusting to his size as my body continued to bounce up from Wooyoung's thrusts. Moans escaped around Hongjoong's dick as I sucked on him like it was the tasty lollipop ever. I missed this. I missed them.

Mingi began to suck on one tit and Yunho joined in my other. The pleasure was too overwhelming as I orgasmed once more. Hongjoong began to face fuck me and someone nudged my hand with their dick. I didn't hesitate to take whoever it was. It didn't matter who it was. I wanted to pleasure them all equally. I used the precum from his dick and smeared it around and started to pump my hand as I squeezed my eyes shut, Hongjoong busting in my mouth. I swallowed it quickly and Hongjoong slowly pulled out to be replaced by Seonghwa. He slowly pushed into my mouth and allowed me to go at my own pace, throwing his head back in pleasure.

I orgasmed once more, encouraging Wooyoung to cum inside me. He was pushed aside and quickly replaced by San who began to lap my pussy up. The thighs were trembling and someone else began to kiss, suck, and bite them. I moaned around Seonghwa's dick as the one I was jerking off cummed on my face.

“Cumming~” Jongho warned before doing so. I squinted my eyes closed so I didn't get any in my eyes. By the end of the night, my body was worn and marked. My boyfriends quickly washed and cleaned my body and changed the sheets before allowing me to lay in the bed again.

“Thank you, Love. You did so good. We really needed you.” San said as he placed a soft kiss on my forehead. I nodded as I snuggled into his arms.

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too.” Seonghwa said softly, giving me a soft kiss as well.

“You can sleep, sweetheart.” Hongjoong encouraged me as he tucked the blanket around my body. I nodded, already nodding off.

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez atiny #ateez seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #san ateez #ot8 ateez x reader #ot8

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