#also skin to skin contact bugs me

[mintaikk]

If Rogue wants to be able to touch people, she should just give her power to me. My touch aversed ass would LOVE that.

"Sorry, I can't shake your hand. Yeah, I'd kill you if I did :/"

[moonlightrafe]

Watermelon Sugar

summary: Family brunches are boring, Aegon makes them more fun.

pairing: Modern!Aegon Targaryen x Niece!Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, incest in a modern setting (whoops), fingering, p in v sex, semi-public sex 18+ MDNI

note: This is a repost …. Feedback is appreciated!

The warm sun illuminated your skin as you reluctantly made your way over to your seat for brunch. Viserys had planned it — his own feeble attempt to bring your fractured family together, even if it was only for a brief moment. For the most part, it worked. Everyone tried to behave themselves, though gatherings like this usually ended in a confrontation of some sort.

Before you even arrived at your seat, you felt a hand wrap around your waist, tugging at the hem of your sundress.

"Whew! Who are you all dressed up for?"

Aegon asked as you batted his hand away, shooting him a look of disapproval.

There was an unspoken thing between the two of you, everybody knew it. However, you didn't need him pawing at your waist in front of the entire family.

"Charming as ever I see."

He flashed a grin at you in response; that boyish smile of his made you weak in the knees.

"Here," he handed you the mimosa that was in his hand, "you're going to need it," he whispered before making his way back to his own seat.

You kept your eye locked on him as he retreated to his designated spot. Noting that Aemond was muttering something to him as he sat down.

"What?" he retorted, "I can't say hi to our niece?" Turns out, Aemond wasn't the only one annoyed with Aegon's show of affection.

"You'd think he would know better than to encourage you to drink at this hour," your brother admonished you, nodding his head toward Aegon in annoyance.

"It's brunch, Jace," you say before taking a large sip of the mimosa, "live a little."

"Right. Because Aegon needs an excuse to drink at noon."

"Please," you pleaded, "don't start."

"I'm not," he huffed, before shoveling a forkful of eggs in his mouth, "I'm just saying."

Thankfully your brother's comments ended there and so far everything was going well. Lucerys was sat next to Daeron — as far away from Aemond as possible, which was key to any family event running smoothly. The two young boys were talking loudly about a video game. Your mother and Alicent were giggling amongst themselves, talking so low you couldn't decipher what they were saying. Aemond sat stoically in his seat, occasionally stealing a glance at Helaena, who was tapping aimlessly at her phone, playing some sort of trivia game that you could only assume had something to do with bugs.

Every so often Aemond would glare at you, and then at Aegon who was now three mimosas deep.

If you could make it through brunch peacefully, you would find yourself back at the keep with your family later that evening. And if you played your cards right, you'd get your claws into Aegon.

It didn't take long for you to figure out that family gatherings such as these served to be rather boring when there was no fighting involved.

Staring down at the plate of fruit in front of you, an idea popped into your head. Maybe you could make your own fun.

You plucked a piece of watermelon from the plate and took a small bite, allowing the juice to run down your chin onto your chest. Rubbing your thumb along your bottom lip, swirling the juice in a fake attempt to clean yourself up. Innocently glancing over at Aegon through your lashes. His eyes were fixated on your breasts, flicking them up to make direct eye contact as you began to suck on the fruit. His lips parted in anticipation as he watched you.

But, Aegon wasn't the only one watching, Aemond's eye was also locked on you. He was hard to read, but he looked disappointed by your actions. Feeling heated and a bit flustered you decide to go freshen yourself up.

"If you would excuse me, I’m going to go to the restroom," you announced to the table before making a beeline to the other side of the restaurant.

As you went to shut the door behind you, a hand shot through and Aegon made his way into the small space with you.

"What are you doing?!" You hiss.

"What am I doing?! What are you doing?" He spun you around and wrapped his arms around you tightly, pressing his bulge against your backside.

"What are you doing? Huh?" He repeated as he inhaled the sweet scent of your hair. A mixture of apple from your shampoo, and vanilla from your perfume.

"Gods, you're going to be the death of me," he groaned in your ear.

"This dress," he rasped, releasing his grasp on you to tug at the hem of it, "that little show you put on out there." His large hand came down and smacked your ass harshly, causing you to yelp.

Aegon wasted no time and lifted you up onto the marble counter with quickness, kissing you deeply.

Against your will, a moan escaped your lips.

Aegon took this as an okay to continue. Snaking his tongue into your mouth, pushing your legs apart so he could settle in between them.

He tasted so good — remnants of orange juice, champagne and a subtle hint of tobacco filled your senses. His hands dug into your thighs with such force, you were sure his rings were going to leave marks, but you didn't care. He nipped at your your neck and kissed down your chest, licking the sticky remnants of the watermelon juice from the valley of your breasts.

Once he made his way further down, he began to began to take his time. Lifting your dress slowly, the pads of his fingers ghosting your thighs. The anticipation was killing you.

"Mmm, Aeg. Please," you whined.

He chuckled at you and lifted your dress up, bunching it around your hips to reveal your underwear. He took a minute to admire the damp spot that was forming in the center, and you felt a slight blush form across your cheeks. His thick fingers finally made contact with your pussy, rubbing them against the thin, lacy, material of your panties. He looped his fingers through the sides and quickly ripped them down your legs, exposing you to the cool air. He took no time to slide his fingers through your folds, gathering your slick.

"Oh look at you," he purred appreciatively, "so naughty, baby."

A loud moan erupted from your chest as he used his index finger to slowly trace around the opening of your cunt, each swipe had you silently begging he would slip it inside.

That devilish grin of his flashed across his face once more as he looked up at you.

"Don't get desperate on me now. l've barely even touched you. Gotta keep quiet, huh baby?"

A simple nod in response was all you were able to give him.

"Good girl" he drawled as he pushed his finger into you.

"Fuck, Aeg. Feels s'good," you whispered.

His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he began to move his hand faster, adding a second finger in. The pleasure was so overwhelming you forgot where you were. In a cramped, unisex bathroom, with your entire family seated at a table not too far away from the door.

All you cared about was that you wanted more, no, needed more. You squirmed against him, trying to get his fingers deeper into you.

He took the hint and obliged. Pressing them harder into you, pumping in and out with vigor.

He used the calloused pad of his thumb to push violently against your clit. He reached the spongy spot within your walls and pressed firmly into it, his free hand pushing down on your stomach as he continued to thrust his fingers. Occasionally scissoring them, stretching you out even more. It soon became too much for you. You felt your stomach drop and your walls tighten as your cunt squeezed around his digits.

"Thereee she is," he sing-songed. That's it, good girl."

He continued to fuck you with his fingers through your orgasm. Your ears rang, your vision blurred and white-hot electricity pumped through your veins. When he finally removed his fingers from your pussy he brought them up to your mouth, watching with bright eyes as you sucked your release off them, pushing them down your throat causing you to gag a little.

Releasing his fingers from your mouth you shimmied off the bathroom counter, fumbling to unbuckle Aegon's pants.

"Uh uh, baby. We will have time for me later. We have brunch to get back to.

As eager to please you as he was, Aegon was not one to usually turn down his own pleasure. You were unsure if he was being serious, or if he just wanted to hear you beg for it.

"Aeg, please."

He didn't need anymore convincing.

"Put your hands on the counter," he demanded as he spun you around. Unbuckling his belt, sliding his jeans and boxers down his legs with quickness; allowing his already hard cock to spring free and slap against his stomach. Lifting your leg before shoving himself between your folds. You groaned and tried to push yourself closer to him. He let out a laugh and smacked your ass, causing you to jolt forward.

"Be still," he growled.

You nodded your head eagerly, the palms of your hands resting against the cold marble. He filled you to the hilt with one single thrust, spearing you open.

As he began to move in and out of you, his hands tugged at your hips. "Oh, fuck!" you mewled loudly before his palm slapped over your mouth to keep you quiet.

He leaned over you, panting with his breath hot on your ear.

"What would Jace think," he whispered, venom in in his voice, "knowing that his precious little sister is a whore for my cock, huh?" You bit down your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to cum for a second time from his lewd words.

"Or Aemond?" he taunted, "our prim and perfect niece bent over for me like a dirty little slut."

Agon bit down hard on your shoulder, his teeth grazing your skin, causing you to moan and arch your back, meeting his thrusts. He makes direct eye contact with you in the mirror as he continued to pound into you.

"Oh, you like that, huh? You like being my dirty little slut?" You nodded your head feverently, the walls of your cunt contracting, sucking him in.

"You gonna cum again for me baby? Gonna make a mess on my cock?"

"Fuck, yes. I'm gonna cum! Aegon, please, please make me cum."

Your nails dug into the counter as he fucked into you, the head of his cock pressed against your sweet spot with precision. He reached up, grabbing your breast, pinching your nipple roughly, pushing you over the edge one final time.

Your second orgasm washed over you with such intensity, it was almost painful. Your cunt squeezed around Aegon's cock, threatening to pull his own release from him.

"Shhh, that's it, there you go," he cooed. With a few more harsh thrusts against your cervix, his cock twitched inside you, pearly ropes of him coating your walls.

You could feel his heart beating through his chest, as his breathing slowed down. He kissed your neck and nuzzled his head inyour hair before quickly pulling out of you, immediately pulling his pants back up.

"Holy fuck," you breathed as he handed you back your underwear.

Whatever train of thought you had was interrupted by a knock.

"We're leaving! And you guys are assholes!”

Aemond's voice called from the other side of the door.

The two of you burst out laughing before making your way out of the bathroom.

[pumpkin-cake]

begging for ANYTHING fix it related for the most recent season !!!

five x reader and they are married?? it would be nice if the reader had a more relaxed job in comparison to five in the CIA (the reader used to also work for the commission but wanted a calm life)

like maybe working in a daycare or flower shop?

i’m honestly begging for anything sweet please if you’ve got the time !

THIS HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. YES, I WILL WRITE THIS FOR YOU <3 I ALSO HATE THE WAY THEY CHARACTERIZED FIVE IN THE NEW SEASON. This will be very domestic :3 And it's been a while since I've written Five, I hope he's not too out of character, let me know if you have any pointers :3

The door to your apartment creaks open and heavy footsteps enter, the jangling sounds of house keys hitting the ceramic bowl reaching your ears with a sigh following.

"Good evening, Jerome." You coo.

"I did not pick that name, quit calling me it." Five huffs as he shrugs off his suit jacket, entering the living room. He looked tired, but he was okay with that. He didn't want to settle for some repetitive job he'd be bored as hell at. Even if they gave him stupid aliases like Jerome.

"You could have at least asked. That's embarrassing, telling people your name is Jerome. What about...Ethan? Or even something that's close to Five. Like, Finn, or something." You answered with a chuckle, while Five crumpled on the couch next to you.

"There isn't any point. It's not like you need to go around calling me that name." He said, taking off his tie and laying it across the arm of the sofa. "Anyway, how was work?" He asked, taking off his brown Oxfords and laying them nearby but out of the main walkway. He reached over to the stack of papers on the coffee table and looked at the first page. "Jesus, this is the sloppiest handwriting I've ever seen."

"Ah yes, because children who still have shitty motor skills are going to be writing in perfect print. That's why they only have to write their names, not write full-fledged essays." You said sarcastically, plucking the piece of paper from his hands. You looked over the assignment your kindergarteners were given. The instructions were to count the different types of bugs on the paper. There were no more than 9 of each bug. 4 butterflies, 7 caterpillars, 1 beetle, 8 spiders.

"I was never that dumb." Five said a little snarkily, pointing to the answer spot that said there were only 5 caterpillars.

"Don't be such a prick." You huffed, getting out a blue pen. You didn't like to use red, too harsh. You circled each answer wrong, not making any corrections.

"How are you even meant to teach them this? It's basic counting." Five asked, sort of actually curious.

"We'll just go over it in class tomorrow. Everyone will count together."

"Then what's the point of the homework?"

You groaned. "We are not having this conversation anymore, old man." You pulled out a pack of stickers, putting one on each sheet of paper.

"You're just as old." He countered with a smirk, leaving you to roll your eyes and continue 'grading' the papers. He did shut up and drop the subject, letting his hand stray to your hand that wasn't busy grading papers. He wasn't ever one for physical affection in the past, but ever since getting to this place? He was more lenient. He was never hanging off of you, but his touches were gentler. Each contact of skin was a small way of saying 'I love you', because it was hard to say it out loud after years of isolation.

The biggest way of him saying he loved you was twisting the ring that nicely fit on your finger like he was doing right now. Like he was making sure you were aware of its presence and meaning.

You finished the papers in less than five minutes. You did not envy the fourth-grade teachers who had actual homework to grade. "Your dinner is in the fridge." You told him, taking his other hand and playing with the black band that adorned his ring finger.

"Not hungry." He said shortly, like he was offended you'd ever assume he wanted to do something aside from this. He wouldn't ever say that out loud, of course.

"It's sushi. Made by yours truly." You added, holding back a chuckle when he sucked in a deep breath, very torn between the options. It was weird, able to sit and think about something. He wasn't rushing home to eat and go to bed, he got to do domestic shit with you and fuck did he love it.

"..." Five stayed silent like a brooding teenager.

"I'll come with you." You reasoned, and he reluctantly sat up. You smiled and got up with him, the two of you traversing to the kitchen. He opened the door to the fridge and grabbed the small Tupperware of delicious looking sushi. You were not a fan of Commission cafeteria food, and you took pride in buying the best ingredients for you and your spouse. You were already grabbing him a pair of chopsticks, sitting with him at the kitchen island.

"...thanks." He said after eating a roll. He was stubborn, but he really did appreciate you taking the time to make more for him when he got home late. It was so nice to come home to a homemade meal. It reminded him of Grace.

"Of course, honey." You smiled, sitting in silence while he ate. He savored every moment. After being in the apocalypse for forty years, he really grew to appreciate the things he didn't have. He swore he would never take this life for granted.

He never questioned why, because the whole reason was sitting right next to him.

[kinkandkreep]

♡︎ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞!𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎'𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

♡︎ 𝑪𝑾: 𝑰𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒖𝒃𝒄𝒐𝒏, 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒎, 𝑴𝒊𝒈𝒖𝒆𝒍 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒃𝒔𝒐𝒍𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒑, 𝒉𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒐𝒖𝒕

♡︎ "__" 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞

♡︎ 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

You hadn’t heard from your cousin or friends in 2 weeks.

Normally, you kept in fairly regular contact, but for the past 14 days it had been radio silence. 

You were almost too afraid to think of what that could potentially mean. 

Two possibilities were most apparent to you.

A.) Miguel had made good on his word and-...harmed your friends

B.) Miguel had made good on his word and frightened your friends and cousin so badly they’d been successfully coerced into cutting off contact with you

Either way, you knew Miguel had something to do with it. 

It also probably didn’t help that after he’d kidnapped you, he forced you to begin using the bugged phone. Even if you had talked to your girls, you assumed that Miguel would just be listening in on the conversation. 

You sighed, brows turning downward in frustration. You were tempted to just throw the damn brick at the wall, but, as much as you were ashamed to admit it, you were a little terrified of how Miguel would react if you were to destroy his means of tracking you while he was away. 

He would probably see it as a means of rebellion and obstinance, and might use that as justification to hurt you. 

Your arms were still bruised from earlier, and though the bruising on your wrist had dissolved, the skin was still slightly tender to the touch, the bone creaky and sore. 

You cradled the appendage in your other hand, sighing deeply. 

You tried to be positive about the situation to the best of your ability. 

It wasn’t all bad being with Miguel. He took very good care of you, when he wasn’t hurting you. He bought you everything you wanted and more, though you didn’t really care about material things. You still had access to the internet and television, albeit very limited. He didn’t allow you to sleep in the guest room as you’d requested, saying that “husbands and wives should sleep together, it’s only natural,” but at least his bed was very comfortable, and he said he’d let you redecorate however you desired. 

You could eat pretty much whatever you wanted, though you could only order out when Miguel was home, so he could monitor the exchange between you and the delivery person. He made you breakfast every morning, and it was always delicious, but he rarely ever let you make yourself anything involving knives, for several obvious reasons. 

It wasn’t all terrible.

Except for the fact that you no longer had any real autonomy, and there was a chance your best friends and favorite cousin had been murdered, which was, admittedly, a  couple pretty major things. 

“__! I’m home!”

A few days after your incarceration, Miguel had begun insisting that you greet him when he returned home from work or other outings. 

“As a proper wife should,” he’d said, expression flat and chin tilted upward. 

At first, you completely disregarded him, not even answering when he would call out for you upon his return. 

After a little while though, Miguel’s patience ran out. 

One day, he neglected to announce his return, and instead barged into the bedroom where you were, red eyes blazing with anger. Not even giving you the chance to speak, he snatched you up from the bed, dragging you out into the living room and tossing you to the floor. 

A quiet “oomph” sounded from you as you landed on your knees, the skin covering them burning from the carpet. 

“Why is it so difficult for you to follow simple instructions, __? I only asked you to begin greeting me when I come home from working to continue providing for you. Is that so much to ask?”

You didn’t speak, unsure of what might come out of your mouth in the moment. 

Miguel had begun pacing, a signature sign of either his distress or agitation. 

He stopped suddenly, bending down to grab you tightly by the shoulders, forcing you to look up at him. 

“Well? ¡Contéstame!”

You held his stare for a moment more, before finally beginning to speak. 

“You are…delusional, Miguel. I don’t even want to be here, stuck in this house with you. You think I’d honestly begin happily rushing to the door to appease you, when you’ve hurt me, and presumably other people that are important to me?! Are you insane?!”

You shook out of his now loose grasp, scooting back til you were on the other side of the room. 

“You’re crazy, and I want nothing to do with you.”

The two of you sat in silence for quite a few moments, Miguel being oddly still, not meeting your eyes. 

“Is that so?” Miguel’s voice was low, his breathing having picked up. 

You watched with wide eyes as he quickly advanced on you, not even giving you time to move before he’d snatched you up again, a single hand wrapped tightly around your throat. 

Your feet kicked in a panic, hands clawing at Miguel’s wrist. 

You knew he was strong, though you’d never seen his strength in action like this. You weren’t the lightest person, and for him to be able to lift you almost a foot off the ground singlehandedly was alarming. 

His gaze burned into yours, and you could swear that beneath the dark spots slowly clouding your vision, there was a sick sort of satisfaction causing a dull glow to emanate from Miguel’s red irises. 

“If you don’t want anything to do with me,” he began, grip tightening further, “then perhaps I should just…make you go away.” His expression remained scarily flat, his tone even more so, though his words shook around the edges. 

You could feel the energy steadily seeping out of you, and for a moment, you were genuinely afraid that Miguel was going to kill you. 

After a few more torturous moments, your vision dimmed to almost completely black, and you felt your body go limp. 

At the same time, Miguel finally released you, and you weakly dropped to the floor, sprawled out and exhausted from your ordeal. 

The much larger man crouched down beside you, leaning forward til his lips nearly brushed yours. 

“Never forget, that the only reason you still have breath in your lungs is because I give it to you. And just as I give, I can take it all away. You don’t want anything to do with me? Without me, you’d be nothing.”

He stands, leveling you with the most dismissive, scathing look you’ve ever seen on his face. 

“I’m not crazy, __. You’re crazy for thinking you could ever leave me.”

Back in the present moment, you shivered at the memory, hand subconsciously coming up to massage your throat. 

Looking at the time, you noticed that Miguel would be returning soon. 

Begrudgingly, you stood, dragging your feet out into the living room where you took a seat on the couch. 

“Any minute now,” you spoke to no one in particular. 

You sat there waiting for just a bit longer, before you could hear the telltale beeping coming from the front door. After a second, Miguel entered, an expectant expression on his face. 

Even after the encounter from before, you hadn’t quite worked up the fortitude necessary to actually greet him at the door, but at least now you acknowledged him. 

Miguel recognized this as a small victory and decided to grant you mercy accordingly.

In the moment, he turned to you, brow raised. 

You rolled your eyes, looking away momentarily before looking back to him. “Welcome home, Mig-...”

“Ah ah, that’s not my name. Not to you anyway.”

You glared at him momentarily, though it seemed to have no effect on the man. 

“Welcome home, Gigi.”

Miguel grinned, beginning to walk into your bedroom. 

“Muy buena, __.” 

You watched him leave, huffing angrily. 

He was so…infuriating. 

He tried to be almost unbearably sweet and accommodating while at the same time being more than willing to toss you out of a window if you said anything similar to him being “crazy” or you not loving him. 

He was crazy, as you’d said before. And it drove you nearly insane that he couldn’t see that his actions were wrong. 

So caught up you were in your thoughts, that you almost didn’t hear Miguel calling your name. 

“__!”

Your head snapped up, and in a brief moment of panic, you wondered for how long he’d been calling you. Seeing as you hadn’t been doing anything and seemed annoyed when he left, he probably thought you were intentionally ignoring him. 

You both knew how much of a poor idea that was. 

Quickly, you stood, making your way into the bedroom. 

Miguel was in the middle of undress, and you were sure he’d called you on purpose, to see what you’d, since the beginning of your incarceration at least, been denying. 

So far, he hadn’t forced you, but you didn’t put it past him. 

The thought made you shiver. 

“Yes Mi-...Gigi?”

You quickly righted your mistake at the eye Miguel gave you. He relaxed after a moment, turning back to what he was doing. 

“I asked what you’d like for dinner.”

You paused, knowing it was too soon to ask to go out, but also not really being in the mood to eat anything he made.

“Uh…I was thinking we could order out.”

At that, Miguel paused, turning and giving you a critical glare. 

“You’ve been wanting to eat out a lot lately. And always from the same place.”

Miguel began approaching you, shirtless and clad in only a pair of black shorts. You kept your gaze on his face as he stopped in front of you, expression familiarly, terrifyingly flat.

“Come to think of it, that same little delivery boy seems to be quite fond of you. Would be a shame if he became unable to continue making deliveries because of you.”

“MIGUEL!” The word shot out of you before you could stop it. You were beyond appalled at the implication, and beyond sick of him harming others and/or threatening to do so indiscriminately. 

“You are supposed to be a hero! You cannot threaten to hurt people just because they speak to me! That boy is a child, Miguel. He’s done nothing wrong and he is not a threat, regardless of what you think.”

You were breathing harder now, feeling an anger you thought had been worn out of you speedily rising to the surface once more.

“You will leave him alone, you will leave the rest of my family and friends alone. Get a grip Miguel! I’m so sick of this insanity!”

You hadn’t realized you felt so strongly, and you certainly hadn’t considered saying anything like this to Miguel’s face. You knew that once the adrenaline wore down, you’d probably be in for a world of pain, but in the moment, you couldn’t care. 

All this time spent having to bend over backward and walk on eggshells just to placate the volatile man and keep his temper in check had worn you down, and you were just…tired. 

With this realization, you deflated, plopping down onto the bed and rubbing a hand down your face. Your skin was a little dry (you’d been somewhat neglecting to care for it like you normally would, what with all the stress you’d been under) and you could actually feel the puffiness beginning to form under your eyes. 

You felt like crying, but you refused to let Miguel see you in such a weakened state. 

So, you closed your eyes, and put aside your pride for just a moment to utter out an empty, “Sorry, Gigi. I don’t know where that came from.”

The silence that followed seemed to stretch on endlessly, and you took deep, even breaths, waiting for the outburst that you knew would inevitably come. 

…

Except, it never did. 

Instead, when you looked over at Miguel, you found him staring hungrily at you with lidded eyes, hands twitching with want by his sides. 

‘Oh no…’

“G-Gigi?”

He didn’t respond, hands still twitching. 

Finally, after several tense moments, he spoke. 

“Wow, __.” Miguel chuckled as he spoke, slowly beginning to stalk towards you. “I don’t know if I should be angry or turned on right now. You’ve never spoken to me with such authority, and for the fact that you no longer have any, it makes this little outburst all the more astonishing.”

You scream as Miguel pounces on you, sound muffled by his lips smashing into yours. You try to wiggle out of the unwanted kiss, but Miguel holds fast, boxing you in with his knees and arms. 

The kiss is loaded and sloppy, full of clashing teeth and tongues fighting for dominance. It’s so intense, that you can feel yourself becoming dizzy from both it and the lack of air. 

When Miguel finally decides to pull away, a thin string of saliva ties you both together, which Miguel quickly dips in to lick away before you can swat at him. A very satisfied grin plays on his lips, and as he leans back, one of his thick fingers begins trailing down the length of your torso, starting by drawing ticklish circles around where your larynx rests in your throat, down between the valley of your breasts, across the soft, cotton covered expanse of your stomach and eventually resting right atop the border of your panties. 

You hold your breath the entire time, afraid that even the slightest movement would upset the entranced Miguel.

“Muy valiente, pequeña mascota. Perhaps I should reward you.”

“Gi-...”

The word became caught in your throat when Miguel, with seemingly little effort, ripped your shirt down the middle, exposing your bra and underwear. You could see inside Miguel’s slightly agape mouth; his fangs had begun to drop, and you were very afraid in that moment that he would use them.

“Gigi, wait! Please stop. I don’t want this.” 

You couldn’t help it now, and tears had begun streaming down your cheeks. 

Miguel watched silently, his expression not really changing. 

“Oh cariño, there’s no need to shed tears. I promise to make you feel so good. And you’ll make me feel good too, right?”

“NO! I don’t want this Miguel!”

“Well you don’t have much of a choice, now do you __?!” Miguel's eyes had begun to blaze an even more vibrant crimson, his whole face pinched in anger. 

“I let you have your little moment, and now you will shut up and take responsibility for this! All this time I’ve spent being denied my urges because of your selfishness, well that comes to an end now. I’ve given you more than enough time to become comfortable, and now I will have what is mine.”

You watch, stunned as Miguel completes his spiel. 

What on Earth had happened to the man you used to love? Who was this cruel monster that now stood in his place? 

What if…what if, in reality, he’d always been this way, and just knew how to hide it well from others?

“What…what has come over you Miguel?” The words come out hiccupy and quiet, your watery, red eyes wide as you await the answer. 

“Love.” 

Miguel’s response is almost immediate, and somehow, his expression softens. 

“I love you, __. So much, you simply don’t understand. But that’s ok! Because I’m here to help you understand. And in time you will. It’s ok to go to extremes to protect the people you love, and I would kill for you, __. Again and again. I’ll do whatever it takes to help you see that my love for you is true, that anyone who would try to come between us is a pest, and that pests must be exterminated.”

Miguel leans forward, eyes lidded once more and lips nearly brushing yours. 

“Do you understand me, __?”

Unable to do much more beyond stare in shock and horror, you absentmindedly nod, barely registering Miguel’s pleased smile. 

“Buena ninita. Good girl, __. Now...,”

Miguel leans back, a smirk shaping his mouth. 

“Tell me you love me. And let me turn those tears of fear into tears of pleasure.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・゜-: ✧ :-.・ ✧ :-.・゜

Buy Me a Kofi?

[lovelettersforthedamned]

sex pollen with tasm?

Interlinked

--genre + trope: sex pollen, SMUT, fluff, nsfw.

--pairing: tasm!peter parker x afab!reader

--word count: 1.5k

--warnings: SMUT, unprotected PinV (don't even think about it), multiple orgasms, creampie, kissing, mentions of being sore, fluff at the end.

--gif credits: @tvandfilm

If you could live in this moment, you would. You’re sitting on Peter’s bed, faint rhythms of his music playing in the background. Having your laptop open, you were able to look through the work you needed to finish before the day was done. Having Peter next to you puts you in a state of ease. You knew he was right next to you, you knew he was safe. 

Peter’s spent the last hour or so working on new varieties of web fluid, mixing together different chemicals to see if anything would change. He already had a few things in a large beaker, swirling it around occasionally, when he mixed in a powder of some sort. The reaction caused a small ignition, causing you to look up from your spot on the mattress. “What was that,” you ask, looking for his reaction to gauge how severe this was. 

He rises from his chair, “I’m not sure, but let’s open the windows.”

You climb towards the windows of his room, pulling them open to let fresh air in, and whatever was in the air, out. You weren’t aware of this yet, but your skin was absorbing the particles in the air, and every breath you took allowed the unknown reaction to enter your system. And, of course, Peter was in the direct line of the reaction, causing the particles to make their way directly onto his face, the fragments fluttering onto his cheeks. 

Peter’s heightened senses caused him to feel the effects of the reaction much quicker than you. His pupils dilated, the hairs on his arms stand, and he starts to feel warm. Stepping away from the window, he looks over at you, and suddenly, he is hyperfocused on you. The smell of the perfume you applied hours ago is now flooding his nose, your heart rate has elevated, and much to your dismay, he also took note of the growing wetness in between your thighs. 

You’re the first to speak up, “Pete,” your voice is shaky with concern, “What’s going on? Why do I feel weird?”

He rubs his hands along his face, trying to come up with an answer, but the growing ache in his cock cuts him short, “Bug, I–I don’t know, but I need to go.” He doesn’t know what’s happening, but his now primal urge to get to you scares him. He needed to get away from you.

His answer only made you more nervous, “Wait! Baby, don’t leave.” You reach out, grabbing his hand. The touch between you two felt like waves of pure energy, you pulled your hand back quickly, rubbing the area that just touched him, “Please, don’t leave, I’m scared and I don’t know what to do, especially not alone.”

“I’m sorry…I just–I’m so confused, I–,” he’s cut off by a kiss. 

You were hungry for him, your lips devouring his. Peter didn’t seem to care, he needed this as much as you did. Craving more of his touch, your hands reach down towards the bottom of his torso. You slide your palms along the sides of his shirt, running them along the front of him, quickly undressing him in the process. As soon as you reached the top of his chest, you slipped the shirt over his head, tossing the garment over your shoulder. 

He unlatches from your lips, takes a breath, and mutters the last coherent sentence said for the rest of the night, “Will you let me have you tonight?” A smirk displays itself on your lips, and an eager nod gives him all he needs at that moment. 

Walking towards the bed, you stumble back blindly before the back of your knees are met with the bed, causing you to fall back onto the plush mattress. Peter stands above you, licking his lips as he places himself above you, caging you in his arms. Attacking your lips, Peter moves one of his hands to palm at the flesh of your hip, reaching underneath your underwear to make direct contact with your bare skin. 

You moan into his mouth, the skin-to-skin contact igniting a wave of pleasure to flow to your core. He takes note of your increased desperation for more of his touch, moving his hand from your hip to your aching clit, making small circles on the slick skin. Arching your back into his chest, you reach your hands up to grasp at his shoulders, the sudden pleasure shocking you. Peter unlatches from your lips to look at you below him, the sight making his cock ache with need. It only takes a few more circles on your clit to make you cum, but still, you needed more. 

You waste no time, pulling off every piece of clothing on your body, before you reach down towards Peter’s jeans, pushing them down as far as possible before Peter has to kick the rest of them off. There’s a silent exchange of glances before he lines up with your entrance. A quick nod signals to Peter that you’re ready. 

Lifting both of your ankles to rest on his shoulders, he finally pushes inside of you. The world around you stops. For a few seconds, there is a sigh of relief, the ache you’ve been meaning to satisfy has dissipated. You thought you found the cure, but the clench of your walls snapped you out of your relief. Peter seemed to realize this too as a moan left his lips, his head dipping forward. The desperation returned, and you needed Peter to move. “Baby…pl–please. Move,” you manage to mumble. 

He starts to sink into you further, stretching you out in the process. Every movement causes you to squeeze him a little tighter, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to last, especially with those whimpers leaving your mouth. He can’t stand to keep moving at this pace, every second spent not pounding you into the mattress is a second wasted. He needs you, desperately. Peter pulls almost all the way out, exerting a pathetic whine from you before he slams back into your entrance. The pressure of his cock dragging along your walls made you claw at his neck, the angle of your legs pressed against your chest making you see stars. 

You’re not sure how long he’s been fucking you, but your hips have started to become sore, and the number of times you’ve come is blurring between four or five times. The effects of whatever hit you earlier are slowly wearing off, but Peter hasn’t let up. If you had to guess, you would assume that his senses and increased stamina have allowed him to feel everything you felt, but increased tenfold. 

It’s gotten to the point where you know that Peter’s not even trying to make you cum again, he’s using you for his own pleasure, and that in itself is enough for you to cum again and again and again. His hips stutter and his brows furrow, you know he’s right there, he’s just about to cum, and it’s killing him. Bringing your hand up to hold his cheek, he snaps his eyes open, tears are lining his waterline. You pull his face down, connecting your lips together. The extra touch of your lips pushes him over the edge. As he finishes inside of you, he lets out a grunt into your mouth, this action alone making you moan back, the thought of him cumming inside of you lights a fire inside of you. 

Your lips detach from his, taking a deep breath before you feel Peter’s fingers reach up toward your calves, slowly bringing them down onto the bed. He guides them down, knowing that the position has led to soreness in their hips. When you feel the plush blanket touch your thighs, you finally are able to come to your senses. 

Peter comes down to lay next to you on his stomach, looking at your side profile. Closing your eyes, you feel the weight of exhaustion finally hit you. There’s no way you’re leaving this bed any time soon, and Peter knows that too. You don’t feel Peter’s warmth next to you anymore. Opening your eyes, you look over to where he should’ve been, then to the doorway. There he was, holding a glass of water, walking to your side, and placing it on the table next to you. 

Then, falling into the bed, he remains next to you. “Whatever you did for that web fluid,” your voice cutting through the silent air, “write it down, and make sure to put it somewhere safe.” 

You’re still looking up at the ceiling as Peter grabs your hand, raising it to his lips and giving you a kiss, “I will, I will. I’ll lock it up…only until you ask me to use it again.” Looking towards him, a stupid smile is firmly locked onto his lips, a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

You shake your head in disbelief, “Oh, like you won’t want to use it again next week.”

“We’ll see about that, bug.”

--author's note: this is my favorite smut trope, and i'm still awful at writing it LMAOOO. also what happened to these remaining blurbs??? my incapability to write smut blurbs is insane, but anyways i hope you liked it!!! also the gif??? i'm foaming at the mouth and ripping at these iron bars...don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging!! KEEP SENDING IN ASKS!!! my inbox is open my loves! ok, bye ily<3

[neoarchipelago]

Cotton candy pacifier

A/N: Was this scheduled? No. Did I wrote it? Yes. I have a blank page problem right now and went out to an amusement park last weekend. My own hormones have made me fantasize and throw together this shit. Please have mercy on me at this point.

Warnings: (f! Reader x Simon) ADULT CONTENT. 18+ pregancy talk, breeding kink, cursing, p in v. Oral receiving. Slight blood, biting.

Simon never wanted to be a father. Too much baggage and trauma, too much fear of never having a good role model to be a good father. You had talked about it. You had long conversations. And even if you were understanding, accepted this fate, saying that he was all you could ever wish for, words hitting him like a mix of pain and pleasure, he saw the hint of sadness behind your eyes. 

He had tried to be extremely soft, and passionate for months after those discussions, trying to show you how much he loved you. 

So here he was. Black t-shirt tight around his torso, mask on and black cargo pants. Looking at the large group of recruits in front of him. Price Laswell and another higher up beside him as the last warnings were given. 

Soldiers and their families had been offered a full day at an amusement park the military had privatized for the occasion. 

As much as he tried to remain professional, his eyes often turned to you, pretty little excitement sprawled across your face, almost jumping in place. Jeans shorts and tank top with your little backpack, hair messily tied up. Soap was a menace next to you, already giving him a headache. But you were such a lovely sight. 

When finally, the briefing was over and everyone made their merry way into the park, Price, Laswell and Ghost walked towards the group. Laswell joined her wife and so did Price, the two little munchkins jumping at the sight of their dad. You immediately rushed to Ghost's side as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Soap was practically bursting at the seams with excitement, gaz not too far behind causing Price's kids to be overexcited. Ghost sent them a warning look before everyone headed for the first attraction. 

The morning went smoothly, Soap and Gaz betting on who would handle the worst roller coasters while Price and his wife indulged in some of them, as you accepted to look over the kids during the ride time. The kids were thrilled to simply spend time with their Uncle Ghost, sometimes joined by Soap and Gaz, for small carousels or mild roller coasters. The parents were thankful and indulged in some time without taking care of the kids too much. 

It was what first started bugging him. The way you were happily cleaning up Kyle's chin as ice cream had dripped down. The look in your eyes made something burn in him. Or the way the little Lily munched on a few fries in your arms while you made sure her little hat was secured and her skin hadn't been too touched by the sun. 

He didn't mind at all John's kids. He even liked spending time and taking care of them, feeling a sense of protectiveness over the small cute beings. He sometimes grumbled that Soap and Gaz were even harder to take care of than John's well behaved kids. 

Something else bothered him. Not the little heart strings being pulled when he saw you smiled at him when he won two plushies for the kids. He was almost sure you looked at him with something between happiness, adoration and pure fucking need. He was almost taken aback by it but also by the way he absolutely adored seeing that look on your face. That same look that seemed to show up more and more through the day, as he held Kyle on his shoulders, or held Lily as she fed on her bottle.

But it vanished quite quickly. When another recruit whispered to you that the lieutenant seemed to be the perfect dad and you two would be amazing parents. He had heard. Of course he did. He was a trained soldier with years of experience and trauma. 

After that, you had avoided eye contact when he held up the kid unless it was a polite smile or kind smile. You'd turn to the child in his hold for something but ignore his gaze on you. You weren't exactly sad. Something else was laced with your new avoidance. It was growing on his nerves. That and the new intrusive thoughts of you, holding a child. The image far in his mind, a high resemblance with you and a mix of him. 

He could feel his fists clench as the images rushed through his mind. You, glowing under the sun, swollen with his child. The idea mixed with his fear. He tried to pull you closer to him as you held the little girl, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest as the little girl reached for his mask without an ounce of fear in her eyes. He could feel your breath hitch and the shiver that ran through you. His hand reached for the little girl's cheek, barely pinching, making the girl giggle. The soft skin against rough calloused one, hands that saw more horrors than the child would ever witness. 

"S..Simon?" You stuttered, turning your head to send a questioning look. 

He didn't answer, only dropping a kiss on your head through the mask. The idea crept in his mind, nesting there and haunting his mind. Price noticed. Of course he did. He knew Simon all too well, even through the mask. 

"Ghost. What's on your mind?" He asked, sitting on the bench next to him. 

Simon remained silent, eyes looking at you as you ate the soft cloudy pink thing in your hand. 

"If you keep looking at her like that she'll notice." He teased. 

"She wants kids." Simon blurted out. 

"And you don't.." Price deduced. Simon groaned, closing his eyes. "Simon. Talk to me." Price added. 

"I… shit." Simon felt the frustration grow. "I'll never be a good father. Fuck. I don't know what's a good father." 

"Now you're hurting my pride and feelings." Price added. 

Simon's head snapped towards the man who arbourded one of his signature smiles. 

"I didn't mean… Price, you're an amazing father." Simon caught himself. 

"I wouldn't say amazing. No one's perfect." He clarified, straightening himself. "But I try." He smirked. "Simon. It is your decision whether or not you want to have kids, and her decisions to accept it or not. But don't take that decision based on your past. You are not that man." He said, eyes locking into Simon's one. "I'd like to think, I raised you all to be better than that." He joked. 

He was right. Price was the closest thing to a father he ever had. The best role model he could think of. It didn't erase the fear of it all. But a tiny part of his brain was unlocked, one that might see himself with a baby later on. Price patted his back, smiling again before getting up to join his wife. Simon tried to look at you, falling into your pretty eyes. He frowned at the worried look on your features. He straightened himself, subtly patting his thigh. He cursed under his breath watching you obediently skip to him to sit on his lap. 

"Are you.. ok, Simon?" You asked, a low voice. 

"I'm ok baby. Are you ok love? " he asked as well. You looked away for a second, making him slightly squeeze your thigh. "Talk to me Y/N." He insisted. 

You bit your lip before looking up at him with your pretty soft eyes. 

"I'm sorry…" you whispered. 

"You're sorry baby?" He frowned. "Tell me why." 

"For.. I mean.. I've been with the kids all day so far.." you stumbled on your explanation. 

"Yes. You have, why are you apologizing about that?" He was confused. 

"I know… you don't want kids… we've talked about it. I don't want to annoy you by playing mama-" 

He groaned, eyes shutting closed. Images of you playing 'mama' making his cock twitch in his pants. Now where did this new attraction come from? 

"I'm sorry Simon!" You whined. His eyes snapped open.

"No baby. I'm not mad. I'm not annoyed.. don't think that." He reassured, his hand leaving your thigh to softly caress your cheek. 

"You're… not?" You asked, a slight hint of relief in your voice. 

"Of course not baby. Shit… you've been.. beautiful, playing mama.." he hissed. 

He watched you blink, with a little shocked expression on your face. You tilted your head slightly. 

"What..?" You asked. 

"So fucking pretty… with Lily at your hip.." Simon groaned again, face burying in your neck, his pants getting uncomfortable. You shivered slightly. 

"S-simon…" you whined a bit. "There's… people…" 

As if on cue with your words, his hand caressed your thighs, featherlight fingers up and down your skin, sometimes too close to the burning heat growing in between your legs. He was supposed to behave. Just like he had instructed the recruits this morning at the briefing. But you looked tempting. And the new images in his head, him fucking his seed deep in you, with the slight possibility of watching you later on with your own baby. He was a pleaser after all. Your hands squeezed slightly his shoulders, trying to squirm nearer to him. 

"Fuck.." he cursed against your neck. "Need you baby.." he growled against your ear. 

"We… the car.." you tried, making him grin at your already hazy mind, just from the thought of him fucking you. 

"No. Too long." He shook his head. He tapped your thigh lightly to make you stand, as you looked at him with a questioning look. He intertwined the tip of your fingers with his, barely pulling you forwards in front of him, your obvious compliance making him eager. He made you walk, sending a last glance to the group as Price caught his eye, shaking his head playfully at him. 

His hand on the small of your back as he guided you towards the nearest 'staff only' door. 

"S..sir, you can't-" 

Simon threw a death glare to the poor employee who simply walked away, pretending not to have seen anything. You were softly pushed inside, the door closing behind the both of you.

"Simon-" 

He had already lifted his mask above his nose, hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed your lips softly. A sigh escaped him, as if he finally felt the tension release from his muscles. You stepped closer to him, hands on his chest, a burning touch that made him crave more. Perhaps you were the sun, burning brightly for him, and he was Icarus, with the only goal to fly to you, no matter if you burn down his wings. He made sure to wrap his arm around your waist, the other hand cupping the back of your head as he pushed you back against the wall. Once he was sure you were safely against the wall, his hands now caressed your body freely, pushing and pulling at your clothes, only aching to feel your skin against his. 

You were already whimpering, your hands slipping under his shirt, nails softly scratching his lower back giving him goosebumps. He ached for more. Needed to feel you. His hand pulled on your top with a rougher pull, freeing your perky breast. 

"Simon! Someone could… walk in-" your complaints turned into a moan as his mouth found your sensitive nipple. You pushed forward your chest, giving him more access. 

"So willing for me princess…" he groaned against your skin. You whined, hand at the back of his neck, trying your best to stifle your moan. His cock was painfully hard, images of you pregnant with his child only bringing him over the edge of control. He kneeled suddenly as you gasped, his hands undoing your short's button and zipper with expertise before pulling them down with your panties. He lifted one of your legs making you grab onto his shoulders to keep balance. 

"Need to taste you.." 

His hands hooked under your legs, wrapping around your ass before he planted a soft kiss on your naked lips. He could almost make such a sinful act look like the purest of them all. His eyes looked up at you, the sight of him down on his knees, mouth against your already soaked pussy made you whine pornographicly. His eyes were firmly planted into yours as his tongue slowly darted out, almost lazily, licking a stripe across your folds, not dipping in. You whimpered at the sight, your hands meeting the side of his face as you looked down at him lovingly, abandon written all over your gaze. 

He groaned, closing his eyes, feeling unworthy of such dedication. His tongue pushed past your lips, tasting you as he groaned, feeling the wetness of his boxers as his cock leaked precum. He swirled the tip of his tongue on your puffy clit a few times, delicately before losing once again all control. He ate you like his life depended on it, his hips thrusting forwards slightly at a higher moan from you. 

"Simon!" You hissed, scolding him from making you be so loud. 

You weren't truly mad. How could you when his tongue was dragging you to the pits of hell where he sat on his throne ready to fuck you just like you like it. He was your devil, your beast, the one you'd happily sin for, give in your soul and life to. You shut your eyes, feeling the familiar high approaching. You whined his name, but he knew. Of course he knew. One would say you were an open book to him. He'd say you were a holy scripture. You'd say that he was the only one able to decipher you. 

When you felt your body shake, stars behind your eyelids from pleasure and your hand hitting the wall behind, Simon's grip tightened on you, making sure to hold you up. You were panting when he pulled back, licking his lips greedily. He let his forehead fall against your stomach as his fingers traced down lazily to your still pulsating pussy. Two fingers at your entrance, toying with you before slowly pushing inside. 

"Simon… ah.. please.." you moaned, unable to keep your level down. 

He thrusted slowly, making sure to stretch you slightly, preparing your tightness to him. The impatience was killing him. Now was too much. His fingers left your heat, his tongue lapping at his fingers as he moaned against them. He got up, kissing you again, tongue demanding and dominating. His hand flew to his belt unbuckling it single handedly without breaking the kiss. Your breath hitched at the sound of it. 

"Need to have you now… need to fuck you.." he said, his voice deeper and tone darker. The heavy contrast with the screams and laughter from outside of the door. Yes. Your devil. 

But as he lifted you up, hands hooking underneath your knees, his tip at your entrance- when did he even?!- you snapped into reality. 

"Simon wait! We don't have any condoms!" You yelped. 

Condoms? Ah yes… you had stopped the pill two months ago for some hormonal problem. Shit… his mind went blank, neurons gone to play cards or something while the little naughty thoughts of his newly found kinks spurred his nerves. He bottomed out in one thrust, your wetness helping but the stretch and burn still present as you yelped. 

"Si.." you tried to shake him out of his trance. 

"Shh.. baby, let go… it's ok…" he shushed, hips thrusting up into slow movements, easing the burn and letting his fat cock rub against your walls the way he knows you like it. You were trying to keep a stern face, trying to scold him, but you'd lie if you'd say his behavior didn't truly turn you on. The position only helped him grind your clit, sending little electricity waves up your spine. When he finally had your brain into a cockdrunk mush, he grinned, picking up the pace. Your hands holding on to dear life around his shoulders as you whined and moaned loudly, eyes glossy and brows furrowed in a little pout. 

"That's it baby… good girl… god you look so pretty, fuck, look so pretty taking this fat cock…" he groaned, making you squeeze around him, second orgasm way too close already. How did he even get you there so fast? He was damned skilled but shit… the way he looked at you. Logic gone, pupils dilated, muscles flexing underneath your palms. He looked ready to devour you… or devote himself to you. At this point you were sure both were knotted into a messy curse. What had happened to have him completely lose himself? Risk it all for a wild fuck? 

A ping sadness coursed through you, probably flashing through your eyes as he thrusted deeper once to grab your attention. 

"What's wrong baby?" He panted, slowing down his pace to slow, longing thrusts. 

"You're… ah…Si… you're risking.. a lot…" you whined, trying to focus through the pleasure. He was. He definitely was. And he loved it. Loved the idea to fill you up with his seed and pump you full until he was sure to see you round with his- 

"God.. fuck." He cursed loudly, craving giving him goosebumps as he slammed roughly into you. His mind was dirty talking him into a mess. "Yes. Shit. I'm risking it. I want it. Fuck. I need it." He chanted. 

The heat rose to your cheeks, you didn't know if his words did something, but you came hard, unable to keep the loud moan echoing through the room. 

"Wh..what..? Simon!" You tried to gather your thoughts. 

A little tsk escaped him. Now that wouldn't do. He needed to up his game. You were thinking too much. His face was close to yours. Eyes boring into your very soul that you knew he had a chokehold on. 

"Did I fucking stutter? You've been so pretty today…" he growled. "Acting like a mama with the kids… shit… been trying to stop myself from bending you over the, fuuuck… nearest surface just to breed this pretty little cunt.." you were going to talk. Say something but he cut you off. "We'll talk… not now… focus on me. Let me make you feel good… enjoy the feeling… the idea of me stuffing you full of my cum.." he rasped against the skin of your neck. 

A curse, a jinx. Perhaps a devil but also some old god that came to ensnare you. You obeyed. Willingly give in. Entrusting him. The idea blooming in your mind, his eyes trapping you in that familiar feeling of no one else in the world but the two of you. No more laughs and screaming from outside. Nothing more but the two of you, the feeling of his length splitting you open at a reckless pace. 

"Good girl… there you go.." he praised, feeling you relax in his arms, finally unable to think of anything else but him. Your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, the grinding of your clit making you jolt slightly, tears overwhelming you. 

"S'good.. so… good…" you whined, tears running down your cheeks now. 

"Yes baby… shit, so fucking good… you're doing good." His thrusts were sloppier, the sound of skin slapping and the sound of wetness filled the air. You were going to cum again, that one would wreck you. But wasn't this Simon's favorite pastime? Wreck you. Ruin you until the only thing on your mind is him. 

"Si-" you moaned hiding in his neck. 

"I know baby… I know… me too… s'close.." he moaned as he let his head back, giving you access to his neck. You nudged the fabric of the mask with your nose, just enough to show skin you could sink your teeth into as he made you bounce on his cock like you weighed nothing. 

"You gonna cum for me? Milk my cock deep in you?" You moaned pitifully as an answer. "Yes you are mama… make me so proud of how well you're taking me…" 

His new found nickname he found for you made something in you snap. You sank your teeth into his neck, the pain making him groan and jolt his hips up, hitting that sweet spot of yours. Now he was focused. Had a goal. His hips slamming into you at the perfect angle to make you crumble. And you were going to. He could feel it. His own high dangerously close. 

"Cum with me mama… milk daddy and keep it all inside baby…" he cooed with a hiss as you bit another spot on his neck. 

You shuddered around him, hips trembling trying to meet his thrusts, not that you needed it. The next wave of pleasure was blinding, your whines lost in sobs, nails digging into his back through the shirt, teeth drawing tiny droplets of blood on his neck. The loud curse, followed by moans as his sticky warm cum filled you up so deeply made your mind dizzy, your hearing gone for a few seconds. 

He remained like this as you both tried to breathe the same air. His cock deep in you, plugging you full.

"Simon.." you sobbed. 

He shushed you, lulled you in his arms, rocking left and right. 

"Did so good baby… proud of you." He kissed your hair, slipping out of you before quickly putting you down on your feet, helping you stand before kneeling to help you slip back your panties and shorts back on. He zipped them up and buttoned the jean fabric. 

"Darling… I'm still dripping with your cum…" you whined through a hiccup. 

He let you slowly back against the wall just enough to shove his cock back in his briefs, closing his cargo pants. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He looked around the room, now taking in your surroundings, some kind of storage rooms for props. An old couch in a fairy tale against a wall. He picked you up bridal style, walking to the piece of furniture before sitting down, cradling you in his lap. He hugged you tight, praises kissing your skin. 

"Simon… where did that come from…" you tried making him look at you. 

"I…" he tried, clearing his voice. The reality of what he did hit him. "I've been watching you with the kids all day… don't know, what came over me…" he said, in some sort of apology. 

"It's.. I'll get a plan B…" you mumbled. 

"No-" he hurried. You looked at him in shock. "Listen… we'll talk about this… I, need to talk about this again. I don't know if I changed my mind, but I definitely… like, the idea of you bearing my child." He spoke, voice strained, unsure of his own words, feelings running across his mind at full speed. 

"We'll talk about it then… but.. this" you blushed, squeezing your thighs together, feeling the way your panties were soaked with a mix of the both of you. "It happened…" 

"Yeah… it did. I think… we still have a bit of time to think about it… doesn't have to be now. We'll talk at home. Just.. sorry I lost my shit." He apologized. 

"I like it…" you whispered. His heart jumped. 

"Oh mama… don't make me bend you over the couch…" he warned. 

You giggled. He kissed your lips, your cheeks, your nose, nuzzled against your neck. Yes. You'd talk about it. You had to. He had to face every possible consequence of his actions. And make up his mind. He kept you in his arms for a long half an hour, making you giggle and cuddling you close to him. When he finally stood up with you, watching close your eyes and bite your lip, probably at the sensation of his seed dripping into your panties, he fought the need to simply fuck you again, or put you in his car and drive home to keep you in bed for the rest of the weekend. 

"Simon! No!" You scolded. 

You had seen his gaze. You knew that burning gaze. He smirked before pulling down his mask, walking to the door with you. The sun was blinding, the noise of the park bringing you back to the real world. Simon glared again at the poor employee who immediately looked away. He held your hand as you both walked through the park, looking for the rest of the group. Soap was the first one to notice you, loudly calling you, bringing your attention to the group. 

"Hey! Where have you guys been?! Ghost you gotta ride that roller coaster with me!" He excitedly blurted out. Ghost sighed, making Soap roll his eyes with an overdramatic groan. 

"Come on Y/N! You're coming then! You splash in the water after" He smirked at you. 

Ghost tightened his hold on you, hand swiftly wrapping around your waist. 

"I think Y/N needs a moment of rest. I think she's wet enough…" John's wife said, a teasing look towards you, making you blush madly. 

"What are you talking about? She's totally dry…" Soap argued with a frown, looking at her and then at you and your blushing face. His eyes widened when his mind snapped things together. He stepped back, widening his stance to point a finger at Ghost. 

"You naughty rascal! In an amusement park?! After telling us to behave?!" He almost yelled. 

You hid your face in your hands. Little Kyle turned his attention to Soap while Lily giggled in her mom's arms. 

"Soap…" Ghost warned. 

"You're an animal." Soap shook his head, emphasizing the last word. 

Ghost smirked underneath his mask. Lily leaned forward, grabby hands towards Ghost. His eyes softened picking up the girl in his arms, slowly rocking her. Soap had gone from his rant to being scolded by Price for being so loud as Gaz laughed and John's wife tended to her son. Simon looked down at you, freezing on the spot. The look of lust, craving and desire in your eyes. Perhaps… This was getting interesting. 

[loveandleases]

Hi Lea,

I was listening to Sweater Weather by Neighbourhood when a question jumped at me. Since it's getting genuinely cold where I'm at, I have chronically cold hands. I wondered if the ROs would warm up MCs' hands or if they struggle the same.

If they wanted to get MCs' hands to a regular temperature, how would they go about it?

I wish you a wonderful day!

Much love, Lee

Hi again Lee ~

Hope you're staying warm!

❤️Cam - He won't second guess what he's doing, each movement is almost instinctual. He lift's Mc's hand, rubbing it gently between his before blowing warm breaths along their skin. If that's not enough, he slips their hand into his pocket, still holding it. He tends to run a little hot, so he's more than willing to let MC use his body - for warmth, of course! Think of him as your personal furnace, always ready to chase away the chill, or a certain ex-fiance.

💙 G - They tend to run cold, especially their hands. You'll quickly find that G keeps a supply of hand warmers they tend to stuff in their pockets for these types of moments. They'll readily have some available for MC, not to mention warm soup and tea. Nothing like warming the body than something delicious, and piping hot. G will also offer their coat (even when upset with MC). It's just the right thing to do.

💚 Kara - Expect Kara to bundle MC up in the thickest coat she can find - think walking comforter. Just the idea of anything under 70f/21c causes her to shiver, albeit dramatically. She spares no effort when it comes to cold weather prep. For her, more is more, and that extends to her partner. She'll have MC swathed in scars, their hands buried in thick wool gloves, and maybe a hat.

MC will look like a giant marshmallow by the time she's done. But, at least they'll be warm.

💛 M - The resident cuddle bug, always ready to offer the simplest solution : themselves. They're usually wrapped up in oversized sweaters, never too cold - and they don't see why MC should be either. "H-here, warm up," they'd whisper, gently guiding MC's hands to their cheeks, which are comfortably warm.

When it's colder, M would try to coax MC into staying home for the day. "Just this once," they'd plead, following it up with puppy-dog eyes. They'd happily nestle under blankets with MC, just have their bodies intertwined for the remainder of the day.

💜 Isaac -Expect MC to get dragged along for some exercise. Jumping jacks, lunges, and a short jog are their go-to solutions. When that's not enough, they'll nod toward their car trying to maintain a serious face. But it's not hard to see the glimmer of a smirk hidden beneath. "Plan B, then. I'll let you sit in the driver's seat...just this once."

Once inside, Isaac would let MC take full reign of the temperature and heated seats. They'd just lean back with a mock sigh, "Spoiled already." They jest. When they're both comfortable, Isaac would slip in a sly comment about other ways to warm up, but they are strictly for when you're at home together.

🖤 Ardent - The grump has several ways to warm MC. Ardent is quick to offer practical advice, mentioning layers and a hot drink. He's so used to his niece catching a cold, that he's prepared with ample supply of medicine and cozy blankets - though he'd insist it's just coincidence. When that doesn't cut it, he takes matters into his own hands. He'll complain that MC is "hopeless in this weather," and pull them into his arms. Wrapping them snugly against his broad chest. Before MC can protest, he zips them both into his oversized jacket, trapping them in his warmth.

He'll make some offhanded joke about skin-to-skin contact being the best cure, but the faint blush on his cheeks betrays him. He'll mumble that it's just too cold outside - and absolutely not because holding them close is making his heart race. It's practical, that's all. Nothing more to it than that...

[twice-inamillion]

The Company

Recruitment

Light smut and Story Building

Chapter 7

1,360 Words

(You take Jennie’s opinion into consideration and look for a reliable flight attendant. Some important decisions are made for the future of the company and a possible recruitment of someone special.) 

A few days have passed since you and Jennie fucked for the first time. The morning after, Jennie complained of soreness from your length and how wide you stretched her, “Daddy, I don’t think I’m going to be able to walk correctly for the next few days. Is it okay if I take a day or two off?”

You smile at Jennie and smack her ass, “Sure. You can tell your members you have a stomach bug, and I’ll let the coach know the group will take a break from practice.

“Thanks, Daddy,” giving you a hug. 

The first thing she did after recuperating was text you early in the morning, “Daddy, I’m all better now. How about going another round?”

You message her back, “It’s 6 in the morning, and you’re thinking about sex?”

“Yes, these past two days, I couldn’t think about anything besides your big cock stretching my small pussy.”

“Okay, how about tonight?”

“Actually, I’m outside your door, hehe”

You roll your eyes, get up from bed, walk towards the door, and check the screen, “Daddy, open up.” Jennie immediately lunges herself at you after you open the door, “Daddy, I missed you!”

“I missed you too, but you’re up so early.”

“It’s the only time I can sneak out without the members noticing.”

You smirk at her and say, “You’re a bad girl. Daddy needs to punish you for sneaking out.”

Jennie smiles, and your comment, “Daddy needs to punish me with his big cock. He should fuck me roughly and pump me with cum.”

You don’t even respond and instead, pick her up, walk towards the guest room, and toss her onto the bed. 

The two of you fuck until eight in the morning, showering together and having a light breakfast. “What are you reading there?”

“Just some resumes. I just purchased an airplane and am now looking for a flight attendant. These are some resumes I got sent over by one of my assistants.”

Jennie looks over your shoulder at the various applicants' pictures, “Oh, she looks pretty,” she says as she gets one of the applications. 

“You think so?”

“Yeah, you can see it in her eyes.”

“Hmm… you might be right.”

“What about hiring Jisoo’s sister? She’s about to graduate from flight attendant school.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, she’s really pretty. With her pale white skin and nice body, she might be your type.”

“Do you have a picture of her?”

Jennie pulls out her phone and scrolls through her photo album of Jisoo with her sister, “Here, take a look.”

“Wow, she's beautiful.”

“Right? You should hire her. Did you know that many flight attendants struggle to find work because it's a competitive field?”

“No, I didn’t know. Maybe I’ll let one of my assistants contact her.”

“I’ll ask Jisoo about it and let you know.”

“Thanks.”

—————— 

“Sir, Bang Si-hyuk replied back.”

“What did he say?”

“He said that he accepts your offer and is more than happy to partner with us.”

“Good, get the paperwork ready so we can have a final meeting. Also, tell him that I want to invest in his boy group, the one with the seven members.”

“Yes, I’ll get right on it.”

“What about Park Jin-young?”

He replied too, but asked for a bit more funding.”

“How much does he want?”

“About ten or fifteen percent more.”

“Haha, that man is greedy.”

“He is, sir; what do you want me to reply?”

“Tell him that I’ll accept, but I want the full transfer of his upcoming girl group to our site and any other female trainee in the future. I’ll send you more information.

“Thank you, sir.”

��—————

A few weeks went by since Jennie mentioned Jisoo’s sister, the flight attendant. After giving it some thought, you considered her opinion and asked one of your hiring assistants to look into hiring Jisoo’s sister. Luckily, she was easy to get in touch with after getting the information from Jennie. 

“Hello, my name is Kim Ji-Yoon. I’ll be your flight hostess starting today,” she said as she bowed.

“Nice to meet you. Take a seat.”

Ji-yoon takes the seat across from you, and IU goes over the contract. “You will be a salaried worker. Here is the amount of money the company is offering,” sliding the piece of paper towards her.

Ji-yoon opened it, and her eyes widened. “Are you sure? This is a lot of money, much more than what they pay someone who’s working in the business for years.”

You respond, “Yes, I want to ensure you are rewarded nicely and expect your utmost discretion. You’re also Jisoo’s older sister, so I wanted to do something nice.”

“Thank you so much. I will do my best not to disappoint you.”

“I’m sure you won’t. Also, our first trip is going to be in a couple of days, so I hope you’re ready.”

“That's great, sir; where will we be going?”

“Japan.”

—————

“We will be landing in Japan shortly, sir.”

“Thank you, Ji-Yoon.”

“Would you like to drink?”

“I’m fine, thank you, though.”

“My pleasure,” she said, and she made her way to the attendant area on the plane. 

You watch as she walks down the passage, her nice-length skirt giving you a glaze at her toned thighs, “Damn, what a view.” 

The purpose of today is to visit and hopefully recruit a potential trainee after getting a couple of letters of recommendation from a dance studio. The head choreographer linked the company's recruitment account to multiple videos of their student. She praised her students' stage performance and talent, suggesting that someone visit and see them in person. 

The recruiters watched the videos were attached and gave you an idea of what to focus on after watching. You watch each video multiple times and can’t help but be amazed by her beauty and elegance. The way she performs is something that many people can imitate unless they’re a natural. 

After settling down at your hotel, you get in contact with the head choreographer and let them know that you will be arriving later that day. She thanks you for visiting and the opportunity to see one of her students. 

You arrived at the location before opening and were given a studio tour. Walking around, see the pictures of all the trainees, “Is this one her?” as you point at the photo. 

“Yes, that’s her.”

“Okay, nice to know.”

“She’ll be coming to the studio in about twenty minutes.”

“You seem nervous.”

“I am. She’s been with us for so long; we know that she can do much more out there.”

“You seem to care for her a lot.”

“Yes, which is why I emailed the company so you can see for yourselves.”

The person arrives twenty minutes later and sets their bag before entering the changing room. They come out in sweats and t-shirts and walk toward the center of the room before playing the starting the music. You hear the song begin, focusing on their dance movements and expressions.

You watch her dance to various types of music, but the one that caught your attention was when she danced ballet. The way she presented herself and moved with such elegance was heartwarming. You know that you needed to recruit her at all costs. 

The music stops, and you slowly walk out of the office and greet both the choreographer and the dancer. “That was amazing. Great job.”

The dancer bows, “Thank you so much for your compliment.”

“No, no, you deserve it.”

You see her get shy and play with her fingers from the attention. The choreographer steps in and says, as she points at you, “This is the person I told you about. He’s from Olympus Entertainment and came to see you perform.” 

She bows and says, “Thank you for visiting us. I’m Myoui Mina. It's nice to meet you.”  

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

plsssss plsss make another earthspark bumble x reader GN smut Im begging on my knees 🙏🙏, lowkey idk I like the eye contact one u made, but like maybe make it with a more breeding kink 👀👀 THANK U 🩷

Everytime i get an anon asking me to write I start giggling and kicking my feet and I also feel like that one picture of Bugs Bunny dressed as a king. Like abdhfbbahsbdhf I never thought my writing would get so much attention and it makes me feel so happy that y’all like it so much!!!

Gender neutral AFAB reader, racially ambiguous, breeding kink, dirty talk, size difference, Dom Bumblebee and sub reader, pregnancy talk, lactation mention

You straddled his hips, his massive spike sitting against your stomach leaking transfluid onto your skin. It can be easy to forget just how much bigger Bumblebee is when comparing him to Optimus or Megatron but you could barely touch his berth below you with your tiptoes as you sat on him. His massive servos engulfed your thighs in a loving grip as he smirked up at you.

“You’re so cute,” Bumblebee purred running his servos up your thighs to hold your hips. “I can’t believe you were getting all hot and bothered watching me train.”

You whined and grabbed his servos. You wanted nothing more than to slobber on his spike or grab the fat girth of his shaft and work him until he painted you with his overload. Yet you knew better than to grab him without his permission. You know you’d be in for a night of Bee either edging you then leaving you high and dry for days on end or him overstimulating you until you couldn’t move and could only sob out his name. While the latter sounded lovely, you knew he’d most likely resort to the first option just to see how long it takes for you to pounce on him once again so he can bend you over his thigh and leave your poor rear sore with his servo.

Bumblebee was usually such a softy but having you here in his berth, nude and willing, made something switch in his circuits.

“I really turned you into a desperate little slut, huh?” Bee laughed pulling your hips forward so you’d rub your wet heat against his spike. You moaned out his name in a shaky voice as your clit bumped against the hot metal plating that stood so proudly against you.

“There you go,” Bumblebee cooed while guiding your hips. “Keep sounding like that and I’ll take good care of you, babe.”

You angled your hips in his grasp so your folds could better glide over his shaft. Bee let out a low rumble of his engine watching how you sought out his spike for your pleasure. He pulled you further along his spike so you were seated along the length of it. Your folds effectively holding him between the lips of your pussy. You could feel the heat of the energon running through him as his biolights pulsed in bliss.

“You wanna bounce on it? Have your cute little, squishy valve spread open and fucked?” Bumblebee couldn’t hide the shaky excitement in his voice as you slid along his length. “Primus, I wanna be inside you so bad. Make you go stupid with pleasure. You want that, baby?”

You nodded eagerly as you gyrated your hips against Bee’s spike in time with how his servos guided you. “Please!” You begged practically panting in excitement. “Bee, I want you to fuck me so bad!”

Bumblebee rolled his helm back releasing a slew of curses in Cybertronian. “I should just have you strapped to my spike,” Bee moaned pushing his hips up against you. “Can’t go one click without needing to be in this pussy.”

You whined grabbing onto his servos like they were your only tether to his world. Bumblebee was going to be the death of you. He had absolutely ruined you for anyone else with how he fucked you. Tender love making mixed with brutal fucking like you were nothing more than a toy for him to use and all the while he’s telling you how good you feel, how cute you look, and how he can’t wait to fuck you again after he overloads deep inside of you.

You tilted your hips forward hoping to angle your hole towards his spike’s tip in order to try to get him inside you as soon as possible.

“Always so eager,” Bee teased lifting your body with ease. He angled his hips towards yours, the length of his spike sliding along your slick folds until the tip slapped against your clit. You frantically reached down to grab him and assist his throbbing cable towards your entrance.

You could feel the tip of his spike kiss your entrance. Bumblebee was so tantalizingly close to stuffing you full. “My good little spike sleeve,” Bumblebee moaned as he pushed his hips up towards you pushing the head of his spike into your wet pussy with a satisfying pop. You threw your head back and moaned out his name.

Bee guided your body down his spike letting you feel every ridge, bump, and curve of him as he filled up your needy hole. You whined his name when your clit finally made contact with the heated metal of his pelvis. You could feel him rearranging your insides with just the sheer size of his cock. You felt incredibly full and speared on his phallic cable. No matter how you moved the sheer size and weight of him stayed prominent inside you.

“Feel good?” Bee teased giving you a gentle roll of his hips that had you crying out in pleasure. “Cute little thing all desperate to get fucked,” he moaned giving you a sharp thrust that had tears rolling down your cheeks. “Primus you feel so good. I wanna pump this pussy full of my overload.”

You cried out for him, your hands gripping his servos tightly. “Please!” You mewed trying to bounce yourself on his spike despite the firm grip he had on your hips. “Knock me up! Put a baby in me!”

The rumble and vibrations of Bee’s revving engine jittered your bones and only served to make you wetter around his spike. “Yeah?” He said breathlessly. “You want me to fuck a sparkling into you?”

You nodded and threw your head back when Bee finally started moving his hips in a steady rhythm. The wet slapping of skin against metal echoed throughout his habsuite as he pulled you up with his servos then pushed you down in time with his thrusts.

“Humans get all cute and round when you’re knocked up,” Bee groaned imagining you so cutely swollen with his sparkling. So clumsy getting used to how big your stomach had gotten to grow another being deep in your womb; how you’d rely on him to take care of you. Bumblebee’s pace quickened when he thought about how big your tummy would get trying to accommodate a Cybertronian. Your soft, little human body pushed to its limits after he knocked you up.

You whimpered feeling his metal digits slide up your body and run over your nipples. “You start making milk too, huh?” Bee moaned as his cooling fans worked in overtime. He pinched your nipple and gave it a tug as your body spasmed. Your eyes shot open as the premature orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. Bee watched you shiver and struggle through your bliss in both awe and amusement. Your poor body absolutely wrecked with pleasure and yet he continued fucking you through your orgasm as if nothing had happened. Deep rolling thrusts parting your walls as you clamped down on him like a vice. He continued lifting and lowering your body with ease to meet each one of his powerful thrusts.

“That good?” Bee teased as you started to struggle in his grip. The overstimulation started settling in as he continued his pace from before. Your pussy stung in a way that made it impossible to ask Bee to stop. His spike tormented your pussy yet felt so amazing fucking deep into you that you couldn’t bear to have him stop.

“Bee!” You slurred trying to find any bearing to this mortal plane; anyway to ground yourself as he fucked you.

“I’m right here, baby,” Bee cooed giving your nipple another pinch and tug. “I’m right here.”

You sobbed feeling so pleasured beyond what your mind could grasp. “I love you!” You cried holding onto his servos as your only life line.

“Frag,” Bee moaned worrying his lower derma between his dentas. “I love you so much. I love how this pussy takes me so well. You’re so beautiful! Gonna knock you up real good, make you fucking pregnant!” Bumblebee’s thrusting became frantic as he focused on his goal. His sweet sparkmate round with his sparkling. No one would doubt that you were claimed by him when they saw how round you were carrying evidence of how well he fucked you. Any wandering eyes gawking at your beautiful form would be reminded that you were stuffed full of his transfluid the second they see your swelling stomach.

“Bee!!” You wailed as a jet of squirt erupted from your pussy and coated his metal plating. The slick, juicy noises made by your combined bodies became even louder with the added lubrication that jolted out of your body.

“Take it!” Bee cried feeling his overload moving through his body. “Take it all and get fucking pregnant!” He cried through gritted dentas. He pulled you down so your hips were tightly pressed against his as he orgasm raked through him. You could feel your body swell trying to make room for the amount of transfluid Bumblebee pumped into you. Your whole body shivered in delight feeling your womb be packed full of Bumblebee’s hot overload.

“So good,” Bee whined with a shiver. “You always feel so good.”

You groaned letting yourself fall forward onto his plating when his servos lightened their grip on you. Bee ran one of his servos up your back soothingly as you rested your head against his metal body. “You did so good,” Bee praised basking in the afterglow of both of your orgasms. “You always do so good taking me.”

You pecked soft kisses against his abdomen plating making Bee hum in contentment. “Give me a moment and I should be able to go again in about an hour,” you purred running your hands along his transformation seems.

“Frag,” Bee groaned. “You and your pussy are gonna be the death of me.”

[taffycandyqt]

hey so how do you think the tmnt 2003 boys would deal with having helped (more like mother hen) their s/o back to good health and s/o is just super cuddly and loving after. “Well I’ve got to thank you some way for looking after me”. “I’m not making it a habit of getting hurt, but I liked the attention”. “Normally I’d just deal with this stuff on my own” <-explanation why they enjoyed the smothering from their favourite mutant turtle?

You always give some great writing prompts my friend. 👌👌👌

Love Bug

Masterlist

Request Rules

Your boyfriend helps you out when your sick. No one's ever done that for you before, so safe to say your feeling extra cuddly when your all better.

2003 turtles (separately) x reader

Warnings: none

Fluff, angst?

Established relationship

Leo:

It was flu season and well, you had an incredibly weak immune system.

If felt like your brain was stuffed with cotton balls and you couldn't breath through your nose.

Breathing through your throat hurt but it was the only way to get your oxygen.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

Safe to say you haven't stopped by the lair in a while and contacting the guys was the least of your worries.

Leo was getting worried so he decided to stop by your place and was terrified to see you so sick and BY YOURSELF.

WHO LEAVES A SICK PERSON ALONE???

Nononononono.

You'll try and tell him your fine and that you can take care of it but he's attitude is basically "no shut up."

He will get you all your meals, refill your water as many times he needs to, gets you all your medicine, and anything else you might need.

If there is something he can do, he will.

And well... You felt spoiled.

It would be a lie to say you didn't enjoy it.

This was the first time someone had ever made such a fuss about you.

And it continued until you were all better.

"Hey Leo, can I come in?" You ask outside his bedroom.

This is the first time you'd stopped by the lair since you'd gotten over your sickness.

"Of course," he answered.

As you entered you saw him reading over some Japanese scrolls on his desk. You walked towards him and looked over his shoulder to get a better view.

"There Master Splinters," he told you, "He says it's important to know the events of the past in order to learn from them."

He continued to tell you about what he was reading and why he thought it was important but you couldn't hear him. You wished you could have listened better but the burning sensation tingling just below your skin was too distracting.

He had been with you all day everyday during your sickness and now that you were better, you really missed him. You wanted to kiss his face and wrap his arms around you. You watched the way his lips moved as he spoke to you and the way his face lit up while talking. As you sat there watching him a warm glow bloomed between you both. A soft comfortable atmosphere full of love.

As he was talking you reached out and wrapped him in a hug, unable to keep to yourself any longer.

"Y/n? Are you alright?" You weren't normally super touchy, so this was new for him.

"Yeah. Keep talking."

He eyed you curiously but then picked up where he had left off. This time though he wrapped his arm around you and leaned back on his other. You nuzzled further into the crook of his neck before pecking the bottom of his gaw. This time his pause was quite abrupt.

"Are you sure you're alright? You aren't acting like yourself," he questioned.

"I'm better than ever Leo. I just feel like cuddling my boyfriend," you looked up at him, "Is that so wrong?"

Leo flushed but then smiled softly at you.

"Not at all."

Raph:

When you called Raph and said you wouldn't be stopping by for a while, naturally, he was curious as to why.

He was also curious why your voice was so raspy and why you were coughing.

When you told him you were sick, all three of those questions were answered and he was on his way to you before you even hung up.

He showed up at your place like 🧍let me in.

Safe to say you were very confused by his sudden appearance.

You let him in and he took out a can of soup from a plastic bag he was holding and then handed the bag over to you.

He would detail everything it contained before telling you to get some rest while he made you something to eat.

After he left your room you kinda just stood there staring at the door he had disappeared through.

The bag had different kinds of medicine for specific symptoms, a couple movies, some non sugary snacks, and a rice bag you could heat up or through in the freezer for later.

He was a surprisingly comforting presence to have around when sick.

And he stuck with you throughout the whole thing.

Safe to say that after the whole thing you felt like showing him some lovin'

Raph had come to check in on you as early as possible, as per the routine for the past couple of days. He would show up in the dark hours of the morning, stay till midnight when you were fast asleep, leave, repeat. This way when you were awake he was always there.

Today though, you were already awake. Granted you were still in bed, in your pjs. It was clear you haven't left your bed. But you were sitting on your bed, wide awake, reading a book.

"Good morning," you greeted him, setting your book down to look at him.

"How long have you been up? Shouldn't you be asleep to help you get better," he posed the question as more of a statement.

"I'm already better," you smiled at him.

"Really now?" He walked over to you with a playful smile on his face.

He knew you were being silly, which is why he has a hard time believing you were actually better. He leaned down a little and placed a hand on your forehead. You weren't particularly warm. He grabbed the thermometer from off your nightstand.

"Really Raph?" You teased.

"Really," he teased back.

He set it in your mouth and waited a couple of seconds until it beeped. When it did he pulled it out and read a normal and completely healthy temperature. He set it down and looked back at you.

"you breathing okay? No stuffed nose or sore throat?"

"Nope!"

"Your not sore anywhere?"

"Not even a little bit!"

Raph stood quiet for a bit. He cycled between looking at you, touching your head, and checking the thermometer a couple of time.

"Are you sure?"

If you didn't know any better he almost seemed a bit disappointed. Unbeknownst to you, he actually enjoyed the time he took to take care of you. You decided to try something. You scooted over on your bed and opened the covers a little bit for him.

"Come on," you softly while patting the space next to you.

His eyes widened not expecting the offer, but took it quickly. You leaned into him resting your head on his collar bone.

"I- what?" He choked out.

"I am feeling a little tired though. Rest with me?"

Okay, so maybe you didn't want this to end just yet either. No one has ever devoted so much time and energy to you before and you just wanted to soak up as much of his presence as you could. Raph didn't say anything in response. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled the blanket higher on the both of you.

Donny:

You weren't feeling to hot.

Or, scratch that, you felt waaaay to hot.

And not in the good way.

You decided some time in bed would be a good idea so you called Don to tell him you wouldn't be coming round for a while.

Today was supposed to be a date too but oh well😔

When he learned that you were sick he gathered everything he could find to help and made us way over to you.

I'm talking immune boosting tea, liquid IV, vitamin D chewables, vitamin water with antioxidants, ect.

Bro wants you to get better so fast.

Just take it, don't be like, 'no it's okay, you don't have to do that it's not that bad!'

Cuz then he will want to cook for you.

And I'm not joking when I say that is it canon that this man CANNOT COOK.

Please don't let him near your kitchen, just take the vitamins.

After you take everything he brought and settled in for a nap he'll kinda just stand there awkwardly.

Like, he want to help more but he's already done everything he could think of.

Unless you invite him to cuddle or something he's just gonna hang around your room until you wake up.

He didn't leave you side the entire time you were sick, and well, it touched you.

After you got better, you felt it was only fair that you returned the favor.

"Hey Don?"

"Yes hon?"

"You at a good stopping place?"

"Huh? Uh... Yeah... juuuuu-" he made a few short adjustments to the contraption infront of him, "-uuuuuust there! What do you need?"

He turned to you with a smile on his face.

"You're not feeling sick again are you?"

"What? Oh, no no. I'm feeling great!" Standing up straight to showcase your good health.

"That's good then," he guided you to the couch in the train car and sat you down, "what can I do for you then?"

"Actually can you sit next to me for a second?" You asked.

"Oh sure," he took a seat next to you on the couch.

You really missed his company after you got better. You especially missed his cuddles. He was always there, consistently and constantly. It made you feel so loved and appreciated, but now that he's not around all the time, you've been feeling a bit lonely. You were a little embarrassed to ask him to cuddle though, so you really weren't sure what to do. Because of this, you sat there nervously fidgeting trying to figure out exactly what you were going to say.

Donnie noticed your discomfort and put a hand on your shoulder to try and ground you from your thoughts. What he didn't expect was this to prompt a sudden and tight hug from you immediately after.

"Is everything alright?" He was a little worried now.

"Yes I just want a hug," you squeaked.

"Oh," he chuckled, "alright."

He embraced you and pulled you closer. He smiled to himself about how cute you were.

Mikey:

Oh precious boy has attachment issues.

You tell him you can't come by cuz your sick, bro is packing an overnight pack and everything.

Dude will literally camp out at your place until your better.

He doesn't really know much about taking care of someone when there sick and he didn't really think about it.

But when you ask him for something he'll get it. When you go to do something he'll do it.

Legit just wants you to spend time getting better and that's it.

Be prepared for lots of movie nights.

Dude loves horror so if you don't you better tell him.

Honestly horror isn't even that bad with him though cuz he is talking the whole time.

Watching any movie with Mikey is honestly the best.

He says the most out of pocket stuff and his reactions are so over the top, it's usually more entertaining than the movie itself.

When you do get better and start coming by the lair again you can't shake the feeling of wanting to be near him.

One thing about your relationship with Mikey is that physical touch was a big love language. That and quality time. When you were sick Mikey slept over every night and it was great. Now that you were better you both agreed he should probably move back in at the lair.

You were kicking yourself for that now. Everytime you've visited the lair after you just wanted some alone time with Mikey but his family is always doing something and when they weren't he'd be to dense to pick up on your hints. Gosh he's such a an idiot sometimes. Unfortunately you love idiots so these are the cards you delt yourself.

Then an idea hit you. If you can't get some time when you go to him, why not get him to come to you! So you called Mikey about maybe having a movie night at your place that night. Unsurprisingly he said yes, quite enthusiastically.

With the plan set in place you cleaned up your room a bit making sure to throw away any loose trash and vacuum. Was your room a mess when he slept over? Yes. But, for one, you were sick and two, Mikey was staying over. He wasn't exactly the picture of cleanly habits. Realistically you knew he wouldn't care whether it was messy or not but you wanted to relax with him. You couldn't relax in a messy room. After you were finished it was only a matter of time before Mikey swung by.

"Guess whoo!!" Mikey sung from your open window.

"Hmmmmm. A particularly intelligible pigeon?" You answered not turning around from your closet.

You had been looking for your extra blankets for you both to use while you snuggled.

"Hahaha," he answered sarcastically stepping into your room, "Now the real question is what do we wanna watch? I got Slasher and Friday the Thirteenth and Chuckie OR we could do a trilogy!"

When you turned around you noticed he had brought his entire case of movies with him even though he was only gonna be there for the night.

"Let's stick with a single, stand alone movie yeah?" You told him sweetly as you lazily adjusted the blankets on your bed.

"WHAT! You only want to watch ONE movie!?"

"Mikey, we'll only have time for one movie!" you laughed.

"You said movie night!" He told you clearly distressed.

"You normally only watch ONE movie at a movie night!" You informed him, unable to quell your chortling.

"WHA- BUT-" He looked at his box of movies.

How was he only supposed to pick one!? Once you were able to calm down you saw him looking over his movie crate concerned.

"Mikey, just one nice tonight doesn't mean no more movies ever. We can watch one tonight and another a different night. We could even have a marathon at some point."

"You promise?"

"I promise," you grinned at him.

And with that Mikey grabbed a movie and started it up. He had gotten comfortable on the bed before you could even get on. When you did join him he nudged a big bad of potato chips your way, you both would be sharing. As the movie continued you slowly moved closer to him until you were practically on top of him. By the end of it you weren't even facing the movie, opting to nuzzle into his chest.

Mikey if course didn't notice, too invested in the film in front of him. When the movie ended however he noticed he was unable to move how he wanted. Only then realizing that you were completely cuddled into him. He flushed and stuttered, oh how he wishes he knew when this happened. He wasn't sure if you were awake or not though until you told him to put in another movie.

"I-I-I thought you said only one?" His voice wiggly.

"I think we can break that rule once in a while."

With that Mikey popped in another movie, this time one that wasn't particularly his favorite. This way he could focus on returning your affections.

[sparxwrites]

It’s two in the morning when Gem wakes up to screaming in her castle.

The noise is coming from the entrance hall, and it sounds like neither a wither nor a warden, so she figures she’s good to head down in just her pyjamas and her little silk house-robe. Her sword is a comforting not-weight in her inventory, visible a half-dimension away when she lets her attention slip to the peripheral of her vision. Whatever it is, she’ll be fine. It’s probably some bugged zombie or something – if it’s not just some new god-awful prank from Grian, or Scar, or both. 

(She’s heard that thing under Scar’s base. It’s horrible. If they’ve put one of those in her castle, she’s going to kill both of them. Even if it was just one of them that put it there, she’s going to kill both of them. On principle.)

It’s not a bugged zombie, or a prank. It’s Pearl – also in her pyjamas, red flannel and a button-up shirt – hunched over, pulling at her own hair, howling. Her eyes are huge, wet, the pupils blown so large they’re almost black. There’s dark bags under her eyes, no colour in her skin other than high spots of red in her cheeks, the red of her nose where it’s running.

She’s barefoot – and that shouldn’t be what makes Gem’s heart break in two, but it is.

“Hey, Pearl,” she says, gently, raising her voice to carry over the wounded wailing. “Pearl! Hey. Can you look at me?”

She feels like she should have expected this, really. She’d heard from Mumbo what Grian had been like, after that first game, the one he’d won. She’d not been close enough to experience it first-hand, but she knew it’d been bad. She knows that winning those games is really more of a loss, than anything.

Pearl’s head snaps up. The howling stops, or rather transitions, turns into a choked gurgling, a gasping, this awful and wrenching sobbing like she’s gagging on her own saliva and desperately trying to swallow her screams. Her eyes are hollow, empty, nothing behind them but fear, pain. There’s something else there, too, some kind of deep and welling existential terror that makes Gem want to take a step back. 

She doesn’t, but it’s a close thing. The back of her neck prickles, the hairs on the back of her arms standing on end. She swallows, instead, and forces herself to take a step forward, towards the fear.

“That’s good,” she praises, “that’s great, Pearl, good job. Well done. Now. Can you tell me what’s going on? Seems like you’re having a bit of a rough time, huh?”

When Pearl rushes at her – hunched, animal, too-fast and skittering and staggering – she still doesn’t back up. 

She does, however, flinch. Her gaze slides to the peripheral, again, to the sword there. Just for a moment.

Pearl doesn’t seem to notice. “Tilly,” she gasps, grabs at Gem’s wrists. Her nails dig in, overlong, and draw blood. “Where’s– Tilly, what did they–” Her gaze sharpens, but only for a moment, and there’s still no sense in it. “What did you do to Tilly–”

Like this, this close, skin-on-skin contact between them, Gem can feel how hard she’s shaking.

“I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” says Gem, as calmly as she can. “Can you tell me where you think you are, Pearl?”

Pearl gurgles, an awful noise. and tips forward. She’s still clutching hard enough to draw blood and, when she falls into Gem’s chest, she’s as cold as the night air outside. Her shaking rattles Gem’s ribs.

“He left,” she says, wet, like a child. “He left, he– he killed, he died, he killed himself, rather than– than be with me. He hates me. He wanted to get away from me so bad that he, he, he–”

She howls again, then, a noise of raw and ragged pain that seems to tear its way out of her like a living thing. 

There are tears soaking through Gem’s pyjamas, and her heart breaks a little with it as she carefully, carefully, shifts a hand to cradle the back of Pearl’s head. Her wrists are bloody with nail marks, and some of it catches, smears in Pearl’s wild hair. She tries not to worry about it. They can wash it out later.

“Shh, shh,” she murmurs, pets at the tangled mess beneath her hand, holds Pearl close while she works through another bout of screaming. “Shh, shh, shh.” She takes them both to the floor, slowly, legs going out from under them as Gem lowers them down. “I’m here, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

“He hated me,” moans Pearl, between sobs, when the wailing has passed. The shaking is slowing, easing a little, the agony giving way to a slower, bone-deep hurt, the madness passing into grief. “He wanted to die rather than stay.”

That’s not true, Gem thinks, and she thinks Pearl knows that too. But she doesn’t say that. Now is not the time for saying that.

What she says, instead, is just, “I’m here. And I don’t hate you.” She hesitates, for a moment, and then leans forward, curls over Pearl where they’re sat tangled together on the floor. Presses her lips to the top of Pearl’s head. “I’m here,” she says, and means it, “and I’ll stay. For as long as you want me to.”

[crypticreid]

KINKTOBER DAY FIVE

October 17 -- Breeding

masterlist

author's note: sorry this is so late. i came down with a little bug or something on sunday and was down all day monday too. but finally starting to feel better. this is shorter and not as edited as usual due to sickness. I've also switched out breeding with the planned prompt (squirting). that prompt will still happen, just later. thanks for reading <333

summary: You decide to revisit a previous conversation with Spencer and explore something new.

warnings: female reader, fingering, good girl usage, unprotected sex, dom!spencer, dirty talk

word count: 1.8k

this is adut content. 18+ plus only. minors do not interact!

“We need to talk,” you decide to just come out and say it. 

For the last week, you’ve been dropping hints to Spencer and waiting for him to understand what you are trying to say, but he hasn’t. The 187 IQ and the best profiling skills in the country didn’t do much when he was rather oblivious to subtleties. 

He’s sitting on the worn, well-loved couch of his apartment leisurely reading and finishing The Metamorphosis by Kafka for the millionth time, a pile of more books littering the coffee table in front of him.

“Spencer.” You say a little louder and he looks up from his book and smiles at you. 

“Hey, I didn't realize you were awake. Do you want breakfast?” 

“I need to talk to you,” you repeat yourself. 

He swallows nervously and you realize you might’ve taken a misstep in your delivery. “No, no it’s nothing bad.” You scramble to say and race over to the couch to sit beside him. The leather couch that you once jokingly said made you feel like you were in a psychiatrist’s office, creaks lightly as you position yourself so that you can face Spencer, your legs crossed in front of you. 

One of his hands reaches for one of yours and holds it, his thumb smoothing over your skin. “What do you need?” 

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. You weren’t nervous, but any sort of relatively serious conversation still made your stomach do little tiny flips. “Do you remember a couple months ago when we talked about… um,” you can feel yourself blushing. 

Spencer’s brows furrow and you can tell his mind is racing to try and remember any significant conversations the two of you have had. 

“In that hotel room.” You supply. 

He lets out a breath, “that doesn’t really help. We’re in hotels more than we’re at home.” 

You let out your own breath, frustrated at your inability to just come out and say what you want. You close your eyes and allow the words to spill forth, “when I wanted you to fuck me without a condom.” You squeeze your eyes in a grimace and then force them open. 

Spencer’s mouth is open, his cheeks pink and rosy. He blinks, closes his mouth, opens it, licks his bottom lip, and then shuts his mouth again. The hand holding yours tightens almost undetectably.  

“Spencer?” You whisper. 

He clears his throat, “I remember.” 

“Well, I’d like to revisit that conversation.” 

His back straightens, like he’s a professor who has just been asked to defend his entire life’s work. “Okay.” He nods, a few strands of errant hair falling across his forehead. You reach up and push the hair back into place. 

“Is that something you would be comfortable with?” You ask. 

“Having sex without protection?” He clarifies and you nod to confirm. He swallows and runs his free hand through his hair, clearly nervous. “I’ve never…” 

“I know.” You incline your head toward his and press a feather-light kiss to his lips and then sit back again. “We don’t have to if you don’t want, but –” 

“Is it something you want?” 

“Yes.” You squeeze his hand. 

“Do you want to get pregnant?” He asks point-blankly and it makes your stomach clench. You look away from his intense eye contact and you feel your body heat under his gaze. 

“No.” You say, which is the truth. “I’m still on birth control.” But you can’t help the way your body reacts to the idea. 

Spencer’s free hand reaches up and caresses your cheek, causing you to meet his eyes again. “I’m comfortable with it.” 

“Yeah?” 

He nods and you feel him guiding you closer to him. “Yeah,” he whispers right before your lips connect with his. You kiss him softly at first, trying to say a thousand words you didn’t have time to say through your kiss. He tells you just how much he loves you and you respond in kind. His hands have found their way to your hips, his thumbs brushing against your skin underneath your shirt and you feel your body immediately thrum to life. 

“I don’t want to be teased.” You say against his lips. He laughs, but instantly pulls back so he can take off your shirt. There are days that you spend hours with your bodies against each other, exploring, teasing, pleasuring. But you feel like you won’t last longer than fifteen minutes. You want him so bad. 

He pulls you onto his lap, his lips against one of your breasts, quickly pulling a nipple into his mouth. One of your hands grabs onto his shoulder, the other one tangles in his hair, pressing him against you, not allowing him to move. 

“Spencer, fuck.” You murmur and one of his hands slips into the band of your pajama pants. He gasps when he makes contact with your soaking center, but doesn’t waste any time before circling your clit. He lays kisses against your sternum, his jaw brushing against your skin, as he moves to your neglected tit. 

Your hold on him tightens when he perfectly times it as he takes your nipple between his teeth and plunges a finger into you. “I need you, please, Spencer.” You scramble to grind your hips against him, finding that delicious friction that you’re desperate for. 

“Do you want my cum, baby?” He asks, moving away from your breast, but still pressing his lips against any exposed skin he can find. 

Your hips falter only for a split second. This is new. A brand new exploration for the both of you, but you can’t deny how you push down harder on his finger and feel the heat at the base of your spine start to spread. You bite down on your bottom lip and nod. “Yeah, yeah. I want it.” 

“Then you’ve gotta do what I ask. Then you’ll get my cum like a good girl. Are you gonna be my good girl?” He pulls away from your skin completely and looks you in the eyes, you continue to push and grind yourself on his finger, but it isn’t enough. 

“Yes, yes. I’ll be – ah” you gasp as he adds a second finger. “Good girl.” You finish and he grabs your hip to stop your movement. 

“You’re gonna make yourself come with just my fingers, can you do that, baby?” You nod and feel yourself clench on him. He moves your hip for you, setting the pace and positions his hand inside you so that his palm grinds against your sensitive clit. 

“Fuck,” you moan and he inclines his head to nip at your neck. 

“That’s it, you’re doing such a good job. My good girl, aren’t you? So desperate for my cum.” 

You nod your head frantically, your breath and words coming out rapidly, “I am. I am.” 

He nips at your neck again, “I know you are.” He speeds up your hips. “I can tell you’re close, yeah, just keep doing that. So good.” He leans back to watch you fall apart on his fingers. 

He holds onto your hip tightly, guiding you through the blinding white pleasure coursing through you, as you moan his name. You jerk against him and he murmurs praise against your lips, kissing you and letting you rest against him. 

You pull away from him and reach between his body and your own and press a hand onto his rock hard bulge. He smirks. “I didn’t forget. That’s what you really want, isn’t it?” You nod and he’s pulling your pajama pants off of you and lifting his own hips to shed his pants as well. Your legs are on either side of his thighs and he trails his hands up your bare legs. But your eyes wander to his cock resting against him and you reach for him. 

“You’re sure?” He checks in with you one last time. 

“I want you so bad.” You grip his base and he tosses his head back with a moan. 

“I’m all yours, baby. Take me.” You guide him until you're hovering directly over his leaking head. He hisses at the simple contact with your wetness. “Keep going, don’t stop, please.” He mutters and you feel yourself clench at his words. You lower yourself completely on him, slowly, savoring the sensation. He leans his forehead against yours when he’s fully seated inside you. “You feel incredible.” 

You moan and grind against him, his hands flying to your hips, moving you against him again. As you move together, he starts to ramble. “If you want my cum, you're gonna have to work for it, love. That's it just like that. Fuck. Perfect. I can feel all of you. Every single inch of you. So tight. Yes, clench around me like that, squeeze me. I'll fill you up, baby, if you do that. Give you what you want. Get you pregnant.” 

You gasp and grind harder on him. 

“You like that, don’t you?” He mutters, biting at your shoulder. You nod, frenzied. “You want to be so full from me, yeah?” 

“Yes, yes, please.” He moves you faster, but your hips falter and stutter against him, losing your rhythm.

 “Come on, sweetheart. I thought you wanted me to come inside you.” 

You whimper, “I do. I do.” You try to find the pattern again, but you can’t because you’re too close. He groans against you and presses you against him. Suddenly, you're lying on your back on the couch, Spencer moving your legs so they wrap around his body and you pull him as close as possible to you. 

He’s impossibly slow at first, every single inch of him sliding into you and you arch up into him. Your hands grasp onto his shoulders and then scratch their way down his chest. “Please, Spencer.” 

He answers you by slamming into you. You lose your breath for a split second, but then relax into his steady pacing. He leans down to you, kissing you and muttering against your lips. “You’re gonna squeeze my cum out of me. It’s all yours, baby. I know you want it. Don’t you? You want all of it?” His thumb finds your clit and you come undone against him, just as he plunges into you and you feel him fill you. Your nails dig into his skin and he whimpers into the crook of your neck. As the two of you inch your way off the intense cliff of your pleasure, his hips slow and he pulls away from you. He lifts up and watches as he slowly pumps into you, fucking his come deeper into you. 

His eyes flick up to yours and he smiles and pulls out of you completely. He lays atop of you and kisses you deeply. His fingers trail across your cheek and into your hair. 

“We need a shower.” He laughs. You laugh with him. 

“And then food?” You ask. 

He makes a low sound of approval from his throat. “Sounds like a plan.” And kisses you again.

tag list: @spenciesprincess @catalinasroom @tylevx @alicentswife

[mangyraccooon]

Thoughts about Modern day Dragon him being a late diagnosed autistic

Dragon would be one of those people who knew they were different from a young age but never could figure it out because either parents (who didn’t want a ‘different’ child) or becoming so high masking that it was very difficult to tell. (Probably a mix of both)

When Dragon is 40ish he takes luffy to the doctor for a routine checkup.

The doctor tells him his son is most likely autistic.

She also tells him it’s an inherited trait

Dragons reaction is “ah.”

He never thought luffy was different. That wasn’t true he understood luffy was different but it wasn’t a bad thing in his eyes.

Unknowingly at 7 years old dragon put on a mask. It starts to crack 33 years later in a doctor’s office.

The doctor gives him some pamphlets and online resources to go through. He spends the next 24 hours going through it all + several online quizzes.

Only the next morning when he opens his closet fully prepared to go into work: when he sees all his shirts and suit jackets. That he realizes he has no idea who the fuck he is as a person.

Luffy finds him crying in a mess of ripped silks and cotton.

Luffy crawls into his lap and starts telling him about a new beetle species found in South America.

Dragon calls them both in sick and lets his son decide the schedule for the day.

Later that night he goes through old boxes in the attic. Trying to find who the fuck he is- was- could’ve been.

He finds a couple old albums, his guitar, luffys baby blanket and…

Crying is natural and normal, he has to tell himself. You are not weak for crying twice in one day.

The ring is old, it was his mother’s. It had been left with his secretary along with luffy asleep in his bassinet.

“Sometimes I feel like you just put on this face and I don’t even know which one is the real you; or if there is a real you”

He would never know how right he had been.

Dragon quits his job; he can’t stand it anymore. The partners beg him to stay, he’s the best lawyer they have. But the feeling of a suit collar now feels like a noose.

Borsalino is the only one who still contacts him after.

Dragon has money; so much money. Other than luffy and silk shirts that didn’t scrape his skin there was very little dragon spent money on.

So he glides, spends more time with luffy. Falls into a depressive episode so bad he has to stay with his mother. Tsuru purses her lips when he tells her and dragon can’t help but feel a little angry.

“You knew.”

“I suspected.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed to be fine.”

But dragon hadn’t been fine, he had been miserable. It was only now he could see how miserable he had been.

He cooks with his step mother who teaches him how to make a puff pastry. Luffy meets a boy down the street who also loves bugs. Life goes on.

Luffy gets a assessment and official diagnosis

The adhd part wasn’t that surprising to Dragon or anyone within 5 seconds of meeting luffy. his son is (affectionately) a human bounce ball.

Dragon gets an official diagnosis and sends a photo of him posing with it to borsalino. Borsalino sends a photo of himself and an online quiz. And dragon understands not everyone needs the word of a doctor to know who they are.

Garp barges into his life and demands he “stop being a freeloader and get a job.” Before flopping on the couch and doing just that.

Dragon gets the drag bar gig out of spite. Iva is the best worst thing that has ever happened to him. After finding out he knew guitar the queen needled him until he started practicing again out of spite (once again he had to stop using that as motivation)

The guitar strings cut at his fingertips.

Garp sets him up on a blind date, which ends with both him and rouge laughing themselves silly. Apparently garp had taken dragons “I like dick” comment to mean anyone who was in possession of a penis (even if it was silicone.)

He turns 42 and has to valiantly fend off Luffy, Ace and Rouge from eating his rack of ribs.

Iva gets him up on stage eventually (he was fine behind the bar)

He did like the eyeliner though and how his shoulders looked in the dress (but that was a thought for another day)

The band thing was a joke (or started as one) rouge sang, dragon played bass, iva played electric and kuma drummed his heart out.

Then it became less of a joke.

It was late, the porch was empty and the moon twinkled. Dragon cradled the phone in his hands. They had gotten a record deal.

He punched in the number slowly.

He was 45 now, he could do this.

The phone rang as he held it up to his ear.

His palms were sweaty.

Voicemail

“I uh-“ what was he supposed to say? “Hi, it’s been awhile. A long time actually- fuck I think I could tell you the exact date if I wasn’t drunk. But- you probably dont want to hear that huh?” He laughed, his breath coming out in a small cloud in the autumn air.

“So a lot happened, since you left. And I don’t blame you for leaving- just so we are clear. Yeah uhmm. So the band. I’m part of a band now surprise! We got a record deal and it made me realize I still- well that is, when I was told. I realized, your the only one I wanted to tell”

“And not in a bragging way!” He added hastily

A beeping noise, indicating the end of the message

“Wani I-“

But the message ended

-should I make this into an actual thing? Lemme know

[smuthospital]

⭐️Yandere Miguel Ohara⭐️

Premise: You're a scientist, and Miguel is struck with a strange virus while out on the field. It's up to you to help him

Warning: Non-con, aphrodisiac, biting, fem reader

Minors DNI

You fiddle with your handbag nervously as you walk into the large building, entering the main foyer. You walk up to the main desk to see no one manning it. Just before you were about to look for an employee, a hologram flashes before your eyes. "Ah, you must be here for the interview. I'm Lyla, Miguel's AI assistant. Miguel's office is on the top floor. The elevator is to the right. Good luck!" You nod, thanking her before scurrying off. "Grumpy pants is really gonna like this one. Just his type," she chuckles, just out of earshot before disappearing. You're sweating bullets as you enter the elevator. You hope no one can see your sweat through the clothes you carefully selected for today.

You press the top floor key and wait. The ride to the top is agonizingly long. The doors opened to reveal a long corridor with a set of double doors at the end. You hesitantly knock followed by silence...Maybe he's not in? "Ugh. What now!?" A deep voice booms from the other side, the door immediately swinging open to reveal a very, very large angry man leaning over you. Surprise paints his face as he looks down upon you. He forgot he had one last interview for the day. Lyla snickers behind him, purposefully withholding your arrival for this scene. "O-oh! My apologies, please come in. (Y/n), was it?" He moves out of the way, allowing you to walk into his spacious office. He takes notice of the way your hips sway as you walk. He shakes his head, trying to dispel his unwanted thoughts. "Yes, that's me. It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Ohara," you say, smiling up at him.

He chuckles. It's adorable and strange at the same time to see someone so cute trying to be professional. "The pleasure is all mine. Have a seat,(Y/n)." He enjoys the way your name slides off his tongue. He sits at his desk and you take a seat in front. He crosses his arms over his chest, making his biceps bulge. It's as impressive as it is intimidating. You feel like a small bug before him. Your hands are clamming up. You barely make eye contact with him, opting to stare at the ground. Your resume was a good match for the position and his team of scientists were looking for a helping hand with experiments. It also helped that you were required to submit a photo with your resume and he liked what he saw. He must admit that you look even better in person. More promising candidates came before you, but you had his favour, not that he would ever admit that, even to himself. He asked you a few questions about yourself, knowing he'd hire you as soon as you walked in.

"Your resume was quite impressive. We could use a hard worker like you around here," he says as his eyes drift down from your pretty face down to your sexy collar bones...and accidentally land on your slightly open blouse that shows a delicious amount of skin. "Thank you. I admire all the work you and the scientists do here and I wanted to be a part of it." His eyes snap back up to yours. He inwardly shames himself for allowing himself to indulge in your appearance so much. It looks like you didn't notice his perversion. He smiles down at you, still having heard your response.

He stands up from his seat and outstretches his large hand towards you. You blush furiously and take his hand in yours. You watch your hand disappear as it's completely engulfed by his. He relishes the feeling. Chills of pleasure go down his spine. your hands are so delicate and smooth in his. He gives it a firm shake. "It was nice meeting you. Thank you for the opportunity, Mr. Ohara, " you say smiling up at him with that same sweet-as-candy look from before. So Polite! Miguel has already taken such a liking to you. He hesitantly releases your hand, missing the feeling of your soft skin on his. "I'll be looking forward to your help around here, (Y/n). Have a nice day." He curses quietly to himself as he watches you leave the room, finding his eyes land on your ass once again. The spider in him is telling him to do awful things to you. Those stupid instincts of his.

Your first day of work comes and you're welcomed by the senior scientists instantly. You're the youngest member of the team. You now have the important task of assisting the other scientists with their tests. Venom testing, finding antidotes for said venoms, and going on coffee runs! You worked very hard in school to get this position, studying tirelessly day and night so you were a bit disappointed when the majority of your tasks were just coffee runs and grunt work, but you're still very grateful to be able to at least watch them at work.

A few days pass and you get the hang of your duties. The scientists usually appear extremely tired and overworked. That's when they wore their pyjamas to work and you went on the most coffee runs. Your co-worker appears before you with a stack of documents and a box of test tubes and tiredly sets them down before you, causing the table to shake. "Here, girl. Take these to Miguel. He was struck by a monster that's given him some...unwanted side effects. The antidote and ans the originally tested venom are in here. He's expecting them very soon so hurry...And bring back some coffee!" He doesn't give you a chance to respond, going back to his desk where a larger pile of papers lies before him along with four empty cups of coffee. Afraid of angering your exhausted senior, you quickly take the papers and make your way to the elevator. You begin to get nervous again, not ready to see the large muscly man so soon.

Miguel paces around in his office, quickly taking a seat behind his desk when he hears you knock. "Come in," he shouts. You notice he's a bit off when you enter. He seems nervous.. and he's blushing. He can't stop his eyes from focusing on your most intimate parts. Try as he might, he can't look away. The way he's looking at you is...frightening to say the least. His hands clench and unclench as beads of sweat roll down his neck. He swallows hard. He's using all his willpower to stop himself from ripping your clothes off. The priapism mixed with his spider instincts is not a good pair. He is so painfully hard. He already came twice before you came in, the underside of his desk splattered a white mess. "Mr. Ohara, I've brought the test tubes and documents you request-" He cuts you off before you can finish. "Hand me the antidote."

"Yes, sir!" His cock jumps when you call him that. He grunts and digs his palms into the wood of his desk. To you, he just seems upset. You read the labels on the tubes. They're written in classic doctor's handwriting, but from what you can see, one of them is severe priapism and the other is the venom he was injected with. You quickly hand him the tube which he downs immediately. He's quiet for a moment, waiting for his bothersome symptoms to go away, waiting for his swollen cock to finally calm down. He breathes heavily, tapping his foot with his eyes closed. He can't bare to look at you, feeling so very embarrassed. He hopes you haven't picked up on what's wrong with him.

Suddenly, he stops his body going completely still in his seat before he tumbles out of his chair. You have no idea what's going on. You don't even know what he was infected with. "Mr.Ohara!? W-whats wrong!?" You approach the desk, about to look over at him. He's oddly quiet. You're scared. Is he that hurt? Was there something wrong with the antidote? Did you give him the wrong tube? Oh god, you need to inform the lab and the infirmary. "I'm gonna get hel-" He leaps over the desk and lunges at you, an animalistic growl escaping his throat. you let out a scream and dive out of the way just in time. You crawl away from your boss, your heart pounding against your ribcage like it wants to escape.

You look into Miguel's eyes. They're different now. Instead of their usual red-brown colour, they're red with slits. You feel like you're facing off with a jaguar. You have a feeling that the second you move, hell attack. Tears border your eyes as you sit there in fear. Lyla appears once again, but the calm look is wiped off her face at what she sees. She looks Miguel up..and down and realizes what went wrong. She covers her mouth in shock and looks over at you. "(Y/n)! You have to get out of here! Miguel isn't himself!" You look back at her, feeling your limbs go numb. You know you have a limited amount of time to sit there and do nothing. On three, you'll force your body to get up and make for the door.

One...

Two.......

Three!!!

You scramble up from your spot on the ground and make a mad dash for the door, not even looking back. You don't need to though. You can feel him behind you. You can feel his claws barely grazing your back. You can hear his footsteps right behind yours. You open the door and slam it behind you. You know that won't hold him and just as expected, he bursts through it and starts chasing you on all fours. You continue running down the hall and slam your hand on the elevator button. By gods grace, it opens immediately. You think it may have been Lyla.

You waste no time getting in the elevator and pressing the emergency shut button a second before he would have joined you in there. You breathe a sigh of relief and click the button for the lab floor. Hopefully, in his animalistic state, he doesn't know how to operate an elevator...You were right, he doesn't, but it doesn't matter. You hear a loud slam and see a dent form in the elevator. then another and another. You scream and cry as he pries the doors apart before the elevator could start moving. Your only chance of escape is getting past him and using the stairs. Right as he gets the elevator doors wide enough, you slip between his legs and run towards the stairs.

He grows and chases after you. You've never been more scared in your life. In your panic, you trip over your own feet, sending yourself tumbling down the stairs. although it hurt, you fell faster than you could run. You lift your head from the concrete to see Miguel jumping six steps at a time. You get up as quickly as you can and enter the floor below Miguel's office. Spiders are looking at you questioningly, wondering why a scientist is running around crying and screaming like a lunatic. their confusion is cut short when they see Miguel burst from the stairwell, knocking over everything and everyone in his path to you.

"P-Please! Help me!" you scream. Spiders immediately get between you and him, but it doesn't last long before he's throwing them around like rag dolls. You take the opportunity to run down the next stairwell, hoping to find somewhere to hide. You make it two floors below and hide under a desk. You curl into yourself and cover your mouth with both your hands, trying to muffle your ragged breathing and whimpering. You shut your eyes and take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Your soul nearly flies out of your body when a hand rubs your knee followed by a hush. You look over to see that it's just a spider. They lean in and whisper "Shh it's ok, love. I'm Hobbie. We have to get you out of here. We're going to capture boss man. Follow m-" The desk over the two of you goes flying. Miguel stands there with heaving shoulders, eyes just as wide and animalistic as before. The Hobbie takes your arm and crashes through the side of the building, swinging down and crashing down into the main atrium.

It looks like your arrival was prepared because a large team of spider people and the science team are already there waiting for you. You remind yourself to thank Lyla later. You scream as you and Spiderpunk continue to be chased by a very persistent Miguel. Spiders try to stop him, shooting webs and attacking him but he just busts right through them again. He's unstoppable. Your legs are getting tired and your lungs are burning. You can't take much more of this. Miguel is used to this sort of activity, but you're just a scientist. Miguel bars his fangs at you. He's gone completely feral. What was he even infected with?

An electric red web shoots out toward you. You think it's over for you, but open your eyes to see that Spiderpunk got in front of you. "Go! Keep running! Jess will find you!" He shouts. You reach a dead end with a bathroom. With no other choice, you run in and hide in a stall. It's silent for a moment. No footsteps, no sounds. Just as you think you lost him, you feel a hot sticky liquid hit your cheek. You look up in terror. It's Mr. Ohara. It finally clicks what he's been affected with. The liquid came from the bulge in his suit. He jumps down from the ceiling, landing on his feet and towering over you. You fall back, immediately clambering out of the stall through the bottom gap. He breaks the door off its hinges, following right after. Just as he's about to reach for you, a red light flashes. Miguel is caught in his containment device. Jess helps you to your feet. "(Y/n), are you ok? You did a good job leading him to a closed area." That was a complete accident, but you don't have the breath in your lungs to tell her that. You look over to Miguel to see him snarling and slashing at the red cage with the sharp attachments of his suit, his eyes never leaving your form. Your face is red for all sorts of reasons now. His cock is still visibly leaking arousal,

Finally. He's contained. The science team could help him from in there. After the sudden events, you let out a sob. You were chased through HQ by the strongest man in there. If it weren't for Jess, he would've... You sniffle. You're led back to the science team by Jess. They all look at you like they've seen a ghost. You assume it's because of what happened. Jess pulls them to the side and whispers between themselves. You can't make out what they're saying. After they split up, the scientists get back to work, sending you suspicious glances now and then. You must be in trouble. Jess walks into the room and whispers to the scientists, who suddenly look frantic. Jess grimaces. She pauses in her spot, looking at the ground before walking over to you. "Hey, sweetie, we got Miguel back to himself. We gave him a double shot of antidote to counteract his double shot of venom. He'd like to apologize to you now if that's okay with you." She extends her hand and you take it, feeling reassured. You're happy the nightmare is over. Jess helps you up and leads you back up to Miguel's office.

You look around at the wreckage. Miguel has caused quite a mess. The doors need to be replaced. All of them. You arrive at Miguel's office door, which seems to have been repaired with webs. You're about to enter when you hear a soft growl from the other side. Your heart rate accelerates. Jess shoves you through the door and uses her webs to stick it shut before you can even think of running. You bang on the door, not even facing the monster you're trapped in there with. "I'm sorry, (Y/n). This is the only way we can calm him. He broke through his containment device before we could make an antidote strong enough and he's too dangerous to let him roam free." You continue banging on the door, trying to push it open in vain. "No! Please! Let me out! I'm begging you, please!"

Your heart sinks into your stomach as you hear her footsteps fade away. A shadow encompasses you from behind. You're ripped away from the door and thrown to the floor, knowing the wind out of you. You scream as the monster known as Miguel Ohara climbs over you, his arms holding yours sown and jaw snapping towards your neck viciously. You're screaming uncontrollably, ducking away from his snapping teeth, missing him by a hair. "Mr.Ohara! Please stop!" you cry, trying to appeal to his long-lost humanity. His claws dig into your arms, bringing your torso up and smashing you back into the floor, winding you for a second time.

He latches his mouth onto your neck, his fangs sinking into your soft flesh. You cry out in pain as blood leaks past his lips before you feel a cold liquid enters the wound from his fangs. Slowly, you lose the ability to move any part of your body. You feel his ginormous bulge press into your clothed crotch. He grabs onto your waist, grunting while violently humping into you until you feel a hot wetness explode onto you. He came through his suit, soaking you.

You're helpless as he releases your arms and inhales your scent, moaning as he breathes out. He sinks his body lower on yours, pausing at your chest. He raises a clawed finger and begins tearing it in two from the center. Once off, he does the same to your bra, exposing your breasts. He doesn't hesitate to lick your nipple, lapping at it and tweaking the other with his fingers. He sinks lower on you and digs his nose into your crotch, pressing in and inhaling. The clothes protecting your pussy from his hungry eyes don't last long, falling to the floor in pieces.

He licks a stripe up your pussy and stares into your eyes. You try to tell him to stop, but your lips and tongue won't move the way you want them to. Noises slip past your parted lips in a pathetic attempt at begging. Your face burns bright. He grunts as his suit rubs against his throbbing cock. He rips his suit at the crotch to free his painful erection and climbs over you, his monstrous cock rubbing against your cunt. You whine in protest. as he lifts your thighs and puts them on his shoulders, leaning over you to lock you in a mating press. Tears run down your hot cheeks. This will kill you! Or render you handicapped at the very least!

He hisses as he pushes forward. You squeeze your eyes shut. Oh god, it hurts! He's stretching you open on his cock. Inch by inch, he sinks himself in. With nowhere else to go, his cock forms a large bulge in your lower stomach. A pained moan escapes your throat. he rears his hips back and rams forward, punching your cervix. He lets out short animalistic grunts and growls. He grunts as he finally manages to bottom out, your cervix screaming for help as you're fully stretched over his massive cock. He doesn't give you a second to adjust, ramming himself in and out rapidly until he thrusts in one last time before you feel hotness shoot inside you. There's so much that your stomach rises from the sheer amount before escaping past his cock. He bucks his hips forward as if to taunt you, forcing his cum deeper inside your already swollen insides. He pants on top of you before slowly unsheathing himself from your abused hole.

Your brain isn't able to process anything but the feeling of your insides and that he's finally done with you. He roughly flips you over on your stomach and pulls your hips back, forcing your back to arch up before him. He presses his thighs to your ass, lining his cock up with your entrance. You whimper, tears leaking from your eyes. He sheathes himself within you again, leaning over you and growing right in your ear. His hips piston in and out of you ferociously, his hot, ragged breath fanning over your neck. Your walls begin to clench around him again. His hands grab your hips, pressing your ass flush to his hips. The height difference causes your knees to lift off the ground. you can feel every inch of him inside you.

Your eyes cross. You can't take much more of this. You're getting drunk off the feeling of being raped by your boss. He ruts faster inside you, smacking sounds echoing through the room. You feel shame pool in your gut along with the same hotness from before. You feel it flow into you before running out of space and running down your thighs. His claws dig into your flesh, causing rivulets of blood to leak past his fingers. You feel your energy drain from you as you come down from your high. He continues pumping in and out of you as you succumb to sleep.

[soraphic]

i haven't proofread this one yall be kind:(

the night air was stickily humid,the kind of weather that warranted open windows and skimpy night dresses. the kind that lured a certain spider back into your home,breaking many personal vows to just leave you alone. you had kept the room empty,dark,only dimly lit by the reflective light of the moon casting shadows through the lace curtains you'd left open - an invitation to his presence. it was a way of making him comfortable,even with the colourful chrome shielding his identity,the darkness just made him feel that bit more safe.

your thin sheets had been thrown to the side,only barely tickling your ankles as you watched him. your dark hair strewn over your shoulder,lipstick smudged and the spaghetti straps of your teasingly thin,black nightdress falling over your shoulders.

he breathed deeply,lips parting against the mesh of his suit as you ghosted yours over his. you were used to the retroreflective eyes of his suit,you almost felt as if you could see through them now. like you could see into him,past his physical appearance underneath the mask.

you ran a finger teasingly under the edge of the mask,bunching it around your fingers as you lifted it slightly. his breathing was steady,fingers gripping at your plush hips as you straddled him,giving you unadulterated control over him. you left it to rest just over his nose,revealing his almost paper-thin lips to you,pouted and swollen. you ran a thumb over the dip of his cupids bow,unusually defined. you rubbed gently at the almost lack of stubble decorating his top lip,biting back a smile at how new york city's spider-man was a boyish youth who could barely grow facial hair. your fingers were curled around his jaw,the deep red of your nails mixing with the ghostly pale of his skin,a perfect match to his costume. "what do you look like?" it was almost a whisper,your eyes trained on the big,white of his suit as if you could make contact with him that way.

he breathed deeply,"you know i can't,it wouldn't be--"

"no," you cut him off,leaning to press a wet kiss to the piece of fabric just above his cheekbone,"i don't want you to show me. just tell me."

he was dumbfounded for a moment,wetting his lips as he stared at you. what difference would a description make? after-all,you still wouldn't actually know.

"tell me,spider." you cooed,running your lips along his cheek,"what is it? big,brown eyes?" you moved to press a kiss to the tip of his nose,"a piercing blue?",another kiss to his eyebrow,"green?" you made contact with his eyes,pulling back slightly as if to ask him to answer you.

"brown,the first one."

you hummed at this,continuing to trail your lips toward his ear,wrapping them around the shell over his mask. "my favourite."

your declaration had him almost hopeful. "what about your hair?"

"it's also brown," he started,moving his head to try and chase your lips again,growing bored of you suckling at his clothed ear. "i guess you could say curly."

you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips,just to satiate him for the moment. "just my type,bug."

he let a breathy chuckle pass,one that had your ears pricking and your eyes flicking up to his face,not that you could really see his expression,anyway.

"you got any freaky birthmarks?"

"no." he sounded almost offended at the question.

"scars?"

"not any that you haven't already seen."

you hooked a leg around his waist,teasingly slow as you curled inwards,pulling him toward you. you leaned back on your elbows,making a complete show of the movement and showcasing your accentuated cleavage to him,the straps of your thin nightgown dangerously low.

"easy." he warns,conscious of the blaring city that needed to be patrolled just outside your window.

"what? afraid you might overstay your welcome?" the smirk you wore was sickly,it rattled peter so much he felt like his bones were overheating,pushing any kind of feelings beyond pure,animalistic attraction down before he even had chance to indulge.

"'thought i was always welcome,baby." he said it like a statement,leaning down to slot his body above yours. his right palm was flat beside your head,the dip in the bed causing your body to lay slightly lop-sided,your hip popping just enough to brush perfectly into the palm of his left hand,giving the flesh a soft squeeze.

you dodged his kisses,leaving him to press wet dots to your jawline as he whined beneath you. "don't you have a neighbourhood to be saving?"

"-not when i have a beautiful lady right here who needs my help." he was quick,running a clothed finger through your slick to emphasise his point.

[yallthemwitches]

A Tiny Spell

“Yeah well—I’ve planned to marry her the day I met her. I haven’t asked yet, but it's only a matter of time really.” He leans in and gives her a soft kiss on the cheek, letting his lips linger there in a way that says I’m saying it to make them fuck off but I do mean it. Petunia’s eyes hop between keeping eye-contact with her sister and the place where James’ lips connected with her skin, fury mounting. “Lily, can I have a word?”

Written for @jilytoberfest Day 21, prompt: "How long have you been standing there?" "Longer than you'd like."

AO3 Link

The surrounding sound of clinking glasses and jovial conversation serve as a reminder that shared meals aren’t normally supposed to be this hostile. Lily hadn’t even wanted to come tonight besides to appease her father, and she didn’t need confirmation to know that Petunia didn’t want her there either—the one sentence note stating that she wouldn’t be in the bridal party made that very clear already. The only thing tethering her to the table was the access to free wine and a very warm, reassuring hand caressing her thigh under the table. 

“James–please tell us. How did you get to be so athletic?”

Vernon’s step-mum cranes herself over the twinkling electric candle, staring at James with eyes that would make even Mrs. Robinson blush. Ever since the second bottle of red, she has interrogated him like he’s a contestant in a speed dating show.

“I play sports actually,” James starts in, treating every question like a riddle to be solved, “I’m the captain of the, uh—”  He clears his throat, fingers giving a warning squeeze on her thigh below the table. 

“A cricket team.” Lily finishes for him, casting a wary glance. She knew that some of Vernon’s family would be at the dinner, but she hadn’t had time to give him a full run down of who knew about their “condition” (as Petunia and Vernon called it) and who didn’t. Unfortunately, that meant James had to fend for himself, fielding questions in an awkward stunted way that made him seem either high or thick or both. 

‘Yeah, that,” James says a bit too cheerful, giving her a lingering kiss on the temple (“Cricket? Like the bug?” She feels him mouth against her skin). Across the table Petunia scoffs, cutting into her steak like she wants to make sure it’s properly dead. 

“And what do you plan to do for work? The step-mum continues to interrogate, not bashful in the slightest that she hasn’t directed a question or comment at the engaged couple for the better half of an hour. “Petunia told me you both are graduating soon. An able-bodied lad like yourself must have something lined up.”

It’s another question that would be best avoided. To be fair, even the truth is a little outrageous. “Oh you know, since there’s a raving lunatic starting a blood war, we figure we will just bop around and fight against that for a bit–then maybe start a family? 

“James' parents are very elderly and getting along—we figure we will take some time off to care for them.”

Vernon makes a snorting noise that resembles a cough. “And you have funds to live that sort of lifestyle?”

She knows he is making a jab. Vernon would know better than anyone that the Evans’ family is not exactly well off. Her Dad struggled with odd jobs all their life and mum didn’t have a cent to her name when she passed. Vernon even took it as a point of pride to bring Petunia into a respectable, well paid household once they married. 

“Oh yeah,” James perks up, finally happy to have something he can boast about, “Got loads of gold in the bank. Tried to convince mum and dad to spend it on a trip to Transylvania while they still had the spirit to travel, but they insist that Lils and I take it while we–er handle things.”

“Wow veeery generous your parents—and to support Lily too,” Vernon’s step-mum slurs out. 

“Yes,” Petunia chimes in, face hard set, “Very generous that it almost sounds like you two are also engaged.”

Lily returns her sister’s stare, seeing the smoldering anger rising up in her eyes. It goes unnoticed by James who swings an arm over her shoulder with a grin. 

“Yeah well—I’ve planned to marry her the day I met her. I haven’t asked yet, but it's only a matter of time really.” He leans in and gives her a soft kiss on the cheek, letting his lips linger there in a way that says I’m saying it to make them fuck off but I do mean it.

Petunia’s eyes hop between keeping eye-contact with her sister and the place where James’ lips connected with her skin, fury mounting.

“Lily, can I have a word?” Petunia stands up, not waiting to hear if Lily accepts or declines. James gives her a reassuring squeeze to her thigh and lets his fingertips slide down her leg as she stands. As Lily follows her sister, she can hear Vernon’s step-mum’s voice waft into the background, “You must know that you are very attractive, James–”

She follows her sister as they weave through a dining room full of boisterous guests until they reach the dimly lit hallway that leads to the powder room. Reaching a relatively secluded spot, Petunia turns on her heel, almost making Lily bump face first into her. 

“How dare you.” She hisses out.. “First you come to my engagement dinner touting some weirdo who doesn’t know how to use a comb, then you somehow find a way to make it all about yourself, tossing around all this bosh about family gold and getting engaged and-”

“Tuney, you brought it up!” Lily tries to get control of her voice, lowering it down to a whisper. “If I had it my way, James and I would have sat and drank our wine in silence—or better, not even come.”

Petunia scoffs, crossing her arms against her chest. 

“Oh course Lily. Always the martyr, always being perfect and doing the right thing, always getting the fit freak boys with tons of gold so you don’t have to feel pain like the rest of us.”

“Do you hear yourself?” Lily’s voice raises again but this time she doesn’t stop it, “Look I’ve tried to play nice sister—for seven years I have—but I can’t keep doing this. You’ve made me into a monster by your own design and I’m just trying to be supportive.”

Petunia clutches her fists, face becoming hard-lined in the shadows of the hallway.

“He’ll leave you–when he realizes how much of a freak you really are.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the damage is deafening. Sometimes Lily thought her sister really was magical–she always had a knack for cutting someone to the raw depths of their subconscious.

“That’s what happened with that Snape boy too–don’t deny it. He finally saw what you were—a freak even in your own little ridiculous world.”

Lily feels the tears before she even registers her sadness. Petunia just watches, eyes cold, pressing her fingers into the wound and twisting for good measure. 

“You’re wrong.” Her voice is weak, unconvincing. “I know James loves me—he tells me everyday. You don’t know anything about my life.”

“Well people lie.” Petunia’s voice quivers on the last word. “And I don’t want anything to do with your disgusting life.” Not waiting for a response, she pushes past her sister, disappearing back into the dining room. 

Lily leans against the wall for a moment, holding onto a coat rack for support. She wipes at her face, frantic to push past the horrible words that are reopening the wound that has managed to be pulled apart more and more as the years pass and war arrives on her doorstep: even her world is no longer hers. She is just a target amongst her own people; a freak among freaks. 

“Alright Evans?” James' voice rings out from the end of the hall and a leg appears in the foreground before the rest of his body comes into view. Shucking off the invisibility cloak, he stuffs it into his pocket before turning on her, eyes full of remorse. 

“How long have you been there?” She tries to sound stern, but a quavering squeak comes out instead.

“Probably longer than you like—oh Lils…”

His arms curl around her, face now pressing into the shirt which he borrowed from Remus just for the occasion. His smell has already pervaded the fabric, the scent of spice and autumn wood grounding her back from her anxieties. 

“Tell me you know your sister is mental right?” He breaths it into her hair, starting to press kisses from the forehead down. “I know you hate it when I say it, but I think I get a free pass on calling her a bitch this time.”

He says it to try to make her laugh, but instead she just burrows her face deeper into his chest. He presses a hand into the small of her back, cradling her against him. 

“You know I’m not going anywhere right? I love you—absolutely nutter about you. Merlin, I’d be a lost shell of myself if you left.”

“But she’s not wrong. I’m still a freak. If I’m not a freak here as a witch, I’m a freak as a muggleborn.”

James takes her shoulders and rips her away just enough to stare hard into her eyes. 

“Evans, are you telling me you are more of a freak than Vernon Dursley? Then Bellatrix Lestrange? Honestly, I’m not a betting man but if we did a poll I think you’d come out the most normal of the lot.”

That finally gets her to laugh, imagining Vernon Dursley and any of the Lestrange family rubbing shoulders. 

“There she is.” James pulls her back, cradling her face softly to press tiny kisses onto her nose and cheek bones. 

“Do we need to look at the note for good measure? Reckon we do…” He pulls away and reaches for her hand bag and she knows what he is fishing for right away. He finds a small zipper wallet that holds a mixture of muggle and wizard money and prods his finger inside until a tiny scrap of parchment appears.

Turning her so her back is flush against his chest, his arms wrap around her as he unfurls the tiny paper. Written in his angular script, the note reads:

I love you and things are okay. 

It’s something he wrote one full moon when she was feeling particularly anxious, but since the impending war it has taken on a more multi-purpose use. It is their personal tiny spell to keep the fears and sadness at bay.

“See? The paper never lies.” He moves in to kiss her temple but she turns her head, catching his lips with his. They stay like that for a while, feeling whole again.

“Do we have to go back in there?” She groans when they part. The idea of reopening the wound she just closed feeling too unbearable to manage. 

He gives her a squeeze and a kiss to her pressure point. “Nah, I already made up some lie about us needing to get back to my parents—that’s why I came to get you in the first place.”

They walk towards the door hand in hand. He feels sturdy under her, like a buoy in a never ending storm. As they step out into the night air, James halts. 

“Oh, there is one thing.” He sounds sheepish, guilt plastered on his face. “You know how I was wearing the cloak? Well—I might have gone and pulled the tablecloth out from under everyone’s meal. It was a huge mess—absolutely brilliant. Vernon got gravy all down his trousers…” his words teeter off like a child admitting to a mistake. “Please don’t be cross with me.”

She looks at him. His bashful act is betrayed by a twitch of amusement at the corners of his lips and it hits her that if he proposed that second, she would say yes. 

“Cross with you– James Potter? Never would dream of it.”

AU: I try not to be too personal on here but I'll allow myself to dedicate this one to my partner who gave me a note just like this at the beginning of our relationship five years ago. Nowadays it's crumpled and water stained but we look at as often as we need it.