#flashlight on❤️

[blissfali]

at da barbie movie. The movie theater si right next to a cow farm its also very smal (goodthing) i got poppycorn and a slushee. im ready 4 party

[the-labyrinth-of-me]

Can you tell I really love these games

[driftingthruspace]

HE CAME!!!!!!!!

;)

@directdogman

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Hi 💗 I hope you’re doing well! This is soooo random and might not be much but may I request another roommate Carmy one-shot where he fixes something around the apartment and looks really hot while doing it? So, reader gets turned on and wants to show her appreciation for his handiness, meanwhile he’s like, I’d fix anything for you. And things just get hot and heavy and maybe even kinda fluffy. I’m just on a Carmy binge rn, and I loveeeee how you write him! 🥹❤️

Hands On.

Synopsis - A broken lightbulb leads to some interesting discoveries for both you and Carmen.

Pairing - Roommate!Carmen Berzatto x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. carmen's big ego.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1.5k

Author's Note - thank you for this request!! another roommate!carmy fic <3 this takes place in the roommates universe, but it's up to you if it comes before or after the other fics - there's no timeline!! this one got a little filthy, actually. the roommate series seems to be getting dirtier and dirtier... i would apologise, but i'm not sorry.

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Series Masterlist. Masterlist. Inbox.

You're sat reading a book on your bed when the room is suddenly plunged into darkness.

You shriek in shock, and Carmy comes running, socked feet sliding on wooden floors through the apartment.

"Honey? You okay?"

He knocks twice before swinging the door open, looking around.

"Why are you sat in the dark?"

You huff and throw your book in his direction.

"I wasn't, until one second ago. The light just went off."

"Did it blow?"

"What?"

"Did it make a noise, when it went out? Did it flicker? Pop?"

"I don't know, Carm. It just kinda... went out."

He grabs his phone from his pocket to use as a flashlight, shining it at your overhead lamp.

"Looks like the bulb has blown. I think have a spare in the kitchen cabinet. Hold on."

He departs, leaving you sat on your bed, unable to see much. There's a warmth slowly building in your stomach, and you take a breath. Why are you so flushed, all of a sudden?

"Here. Got one. You think you can hold the light for me while I replace it?"

You nod and jump out of your spot, grabbing the phone from his hand. You point it towards the ceiling, watching as Carmy reaches up to unscrew the old bulb. His white t shirt rides up his stomach as he raises his arms, exposing his taut muscles. You exhale a shudder of a breath, willing yourself to calm down.

"Honey, can you stay a little more still please? The light is shaking."

"Sorry, Carm."

He winks at you before reaching up again, screwing in the new bulb. You can't stop staring at his arms, his strong biceps flexing as he works. His hands, big and rough, completely dwarf the little lightbulb. You know how those fingers feel as they brush across your skin. Little moments - like him skimming your back as he passes you in the kitchen - are imprinted in your mind, swirling around at a million miles per hour.

You're practically panting by the time he's finished, willing yourself to calm down.

"You okay, honey?"

You don't hear him. Instead, you're watching him run his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. You want to pull it as hard as he'll let you.

A hand on your shoulder startles you back to reality.

"You okay?"

You clear your throat, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good. Thank you, Carm. Don't know what I'd do without you. Seriously."

He chuckles, running his fingers up and down your arm.

"It's not a problem. I'd fix anything for you."

Your eyes shoot up from the floor to meet his, ocean blue irises focused on your face.

"...Really?"

He looks taken aback by your question.

"Yeah, really. You didn't know that? I'd do anything for you, sweetheart. Genuinely, anything."

You don't think before you move. You lunge forward and connect your lips to his, fingers tangling into his hair just like you imagined.

Carmy kisses you back with more passion than you expected, hands gripping at your hips to pull you flush against his body. He slips his tongue into your mouth as you happily let him take the lead, humming in contentment.

Eventually, you pull back, gasping for air. Carmy rests his forehead against yours, both of you catching your breath.

"What was that for?" he whispers.

"Just wanted to thank you."

"That was a hell of a thanks," he chuckles.

You smile, running your thumb across his cheek.

"You're so fucking hot when you fix stuff for me around the apartment."

"Wait... what?"

"Fuck, Carm. I got so turned on watching you drill that kitchen cabinet last week that I had to take a cold shower."

"That's what does it for you?"

"It's just you. You're good with your hands. It's fucking sexy."

"Yeah?"

He's smirking now, clearly enjoying having his ego inflated. You know you shouldn't, but you continue. You grab one of his hands, running your fingers over the palm.

"I imagine that my hands are yours when I touch myself."

He groans, low and rumbled.

"That's what I think about, Carm. At night, when I can't sleep. Think about the way you'd touch me, the way your hands would feel on my thighs, my tits, wrapped around my throat."

"Fuck."

"I'm surprised you haven't heard me. I try to be quiet, but I'm not very good at it."

Carmen's chest is heaving, eyes dark and watchful. You can see the thoughts forming in his head, filthy and menacing.

"Such a dirty fuckin' mouth," he drawls, running this thumb over your bottom lip carefully. "Maybe we should put it to better use, hmm?"

You whine at his tone, but you're smug on the inside. There he is, you think. The Carmen that you don't get to see very often. The version of him that's domineering, possessive, assertive. You like him like this.

"Wanna see how pretty you look on your knees for me."

You can't say no to that.

You sink down onto the carpet, looking up at him with wide eyes. He looks as if his control is wearing thin. You want it to snap.

"Now what?" you tease.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Play innocent. Not after all that shit you just said."

You smirk, running your fingertips over the tent in his sweatpants. He grabs your wrist, holding it tightly.

"Don't fuckin' tease, honey. You and I both know I'm not patient."

"Something you should definitely work on," you wink, pulling his pants and underwear down his legs.

Your mouth waters as you look at him. He's pretty all over.

"Gonna thank you properly now," you murmur, before taking him in your mouth gently.

Carmy groans, hand flying to the back of your head. He tangles his fingers into your hair, keeping you anchored in front of him. He doesn't force you anywhere, just keeps you still.

"Goddamn, you look pretty with your mouth stuffed full of me," he drawls. "This what you wanted, baby?"

Baby. That's a new one. The nickname goes straight to your core, rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache. You nod in response to him, taking him deeper.

"Fuck. So perfect. Fuckin' made for me. Only me."

You nod again, reassuring him you've heard.

"Tell me, baby. Please. Use your words."

You release him with a pop, drool running down your chin and landing on your chest. You take a deep breath, licking your lips.

"I'm yours, Carm. Always have been. I'm yours. This pussy is yours."

You swear you see his knees buckle as he smirks down at you. He looks like the cat that got the cream.

"Gonna fuck you all over the apartment, baby. Every single surface. Doesn't matter if we break something. I'm good with my hands after all."

He winks at you before guiding himself back to your mouth, sinking down to the hilt. You hollow your cheeks and suck, trying not to smile when he practically whimpers. It's a power trip, having a man like Carmy at your mercy.

"Gonna cum down your pretty throat, angel."

You pull away to murmur against his skin.

"Want you to. Please, Carm. Wanna taste you. Wanna swallow it all."

He groans, deep and visceral, as you double down on your efforts, determined to get him to his ending. You dig your nails into his thighs, scratching down the skin as his hand tightens in your hair. The edge of pain is what undoes him, muscles tensing as he spills down your throat.

You catch his eyes, ensuring you have his attention. Swallowing carefully, you stick your tongue out, showing him proof of your promise.

"Good fuckin' girl," he breathes, dropping to his knees to connect your lips, languid and filthy.

Carmy smooths the hair back from your face, placing a tender kiss to your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, the corner of your mouth. Collapsing back against the bed, he pulls you with him, wrapping you in his arms.

"You okay?" he whispers into your ear.

"More than okay. You?"

"I've never been better."

You laugh, and the sound makes him grin, white and beaming.

The two of you sit on the floor for a while, unbothered by the passing of time. You're enjoying being so close, the proximity a welcome change. Eventually, Carmy breaks through the silence.

"So, I've been meaning to mount our TV on the wall... you wanna watch?"

You elbow him in the side, heat creeping up your cheeks as you both laugh.

DIY suddenly doesn't seem all that bad.

@dins-cyarika

[milla-frenchy]

October 31

2k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller | ao3 | masterlist Summary: you go out to meet your two fwb for Halloween, a perfect evening for urban exploration

Warnings: 18+ mdni. noncon by manipulation, glove kink, mask kink, mfm, degradation, oral (m), piv, creampie. Age gap unspecified

a/n:  thanks for the ask, @megangovier 😘❤️ I took some liberties and turned it into something a little different. I hope you’ll like it 🙏❤️

This is written for @mermaidgirl30 's Halloween writing challenge Thank you for the event 🎃👻

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing, ily 😘🫶 dividers @/saradika-graphics 🙏

October 31. 

Your favorite day of the year. The day of costumes and night outs in such a special atmosphere.

You had just left Joel Miller's house, after going to see his daughter Sarah. She was a really lovely kid, curious and funny, and you had stayed in touch, even if she didn't need a babysitter anymore. She would have loved to come with you tonight, but you couldn't take her. You and your friends had been doing urban exploration for a few months, and tonight you were going to explore an abandoned hospital that you had spotted. You couldn't take the responsibility of taking her, and you knew her father would never agree anyway.

Not to mention that you were going there with your two friends with benefits, Randy and Cotton, and you didn't want to give up on an outing that could lead to something spicier.

You had agreed to meet at the old doctors' entrance. The sign was still there, above the door, even if it was only hanging on one side. Your two friends were waiting for you, behind the front door, dressed as Ghostface: masks, capes, black shoes and gloves. One of them had the famous fake knife, and the other - a shotgun which he leaned nonchalantly against his shoulder.

“Very original,” you laughed when you entered the building. “Are you gonna ask me about my favorite horror movie, too?”

They chuckled, the sound half muffled by their masks, and you walked down the hospital hallway. When you passed the first door, they signaled to you not to make any noise, a gloved index finger in front of their mouth, at the same time. You were always silent when you visited a place, to be sure to hear every possible noise.

The place was very run-down, littered with debris. You reached for an electrical panel and flicked it without much hope, but the lights came on. Some were broken, some were flickering, but you could see a little better than with your flashlights. A wheelchair was in the middle of the hallway. A lot of equipment had been broken.

At the end of the corridor there was a staircase that led to the upper floors. Cotton walked past. You knew it was him because he was the shorter one. You followed him, Randy closing the way. He caressed your ass with his gloved hand as you walked up, making you giggle. You swayed your hips to tease him and he squeezed your ass cheek. You could have sworn you heard him mumble something, but you couldn't clearly hear what escaped his lips.

You kept exploring, and reached the top floor. The rooms were less damaged, but the lighting didn't work there and you had to use your flash lights to illuminate your way. When you reached the last room, Randy approached you and brushed your cheek with his gloved hand, then your neck. Squeezing it lightly between his fingers.

“I’m glad I told you about my glove kink,” you breathed in his ear. “It’s a perfect day to please me with it.”

He groaned, his other hand gripping your ass and pressing you against his already hard cock.

“Well, well… someone’s in the mood…” you smiled.

Your other friend came closer, pressing himself against your back. He was hard too. Randy grabbed his crotch in his hand and palmed himself slowly. He tilted his head to the side, pressing the tip of his knife to his temple. With your ass against Cotton's cock, you were breathless as you were watching your friend, in this costume, touch himself. Then he took your hand and placed it on his length. He was so hard that you already couldn’t wait for them to fuck you, however they wanted to.

They had brought a voice distorter and he turned it on, for the first time since you were here.

“Blow me, sweetheart,” he said, without hesitation in the voice distorted by the device. You were a little surprised by his confidence, but it suited the character after all. He took his cock out as you knelt down, knees in the dust, and licked the tip that he was holding towards you. His scent was stronger than usual, but it was turning you on. You rounded your lips around the tip, greedy to taste him there, in that place, head already boobing, his strong precum flowing down your throat. Everything was arousing you: the place, the situation, the darkness. Part of you was a little worried that another group could still come in, but you knew your friends were there to protect you. 

When the second cock appeared in front of you, you were surprised. This was new. The three of you often fucked, but your friends never got this close to each other. You released the cock in your mouth with a pop, your face rose to the two of them, and you smiled. You didn’t wait and sucked the tip. You were horny as hell.

Your first friend - Randy - put his hand on the back of your head, and pushed you further towards the cock in your mouth. You moaned and slid your hand under your Halloween costume, then into your panties. Unable to resist the primal need that enveloped you. He kept pressing on your head to take the other cock deeper in your mouth. Cotton was pushing further too, until his tip hit the back of your throat. Randy held you in place, saying “look at that, ain’t she a good girl?” in the voice distorter.

“Yeah, that’s a really, really good girl…turning into a perfect slut for these cocks,” the other replied in the device.

You whimpered, his cock in your mouth. He released you and you felt that your fingers were covered by your wetness. Turned on by their attitude, their confidence.

“Fuck me, I need it,” you asked with a desire in your voice.

“Come here,” Randy ordered. “Wanna feel this slutty mouth again.” 

“Fuck… you’re turning me on like never before, when you speak to me like that,” you breathed, turning to Randy. 

“Yeah, we learnt our lesson,” Cotton added as he positioned himself behind you. He pressed the back of your neck to make you lean forward towards Randy’s cock which he was holding close to your mouth. Randy brushed his gloved finger against your folds then pushed it in slightly. The new sensation of the leather inside you made you whine, just before the cock in front of you nudged your lips. You opened them, eager to have his taste in your mouth again. His thickness. Behind you, Cotton caressed your folds and your clit, before pushing in two fingers, still gloved. The feeling was overwhelming. Then he pulled his hand away, and you moaned at the loss.

“Our little whore needs more,” Randy chuckled, balls deep in your mouth.

“We’re gonna give her what she wants. She’s gonna take-” he said, suddenly thrusting his cock in your core “-what she needs.”

“Fuck, Cotton?!” you exclaimed as you pulled away under his roughness, just before Randy went back in, almost forcing you on his cock.

“Shut up and take it. And don’t stop blowing me. Oh fuck, your mouth is so good, baby.”

They were passing the device around, using your body, moving it forward and backward depending on when the cock was thrusting in your pussy, and when the other was sinking into your throat.

“Fuck, man, she’s so good.”

“Told ya she’d love being fucked in here.”

You freed your mouth, just long enough to say “so you talk about me when I’m not there? To decide how or where you’re gonna fuck me?”

“Yeah,” Randy replied, before sliding his cock between your lips again. “We talked about this night a lot, baby.”

“Mmmm…,” you hummed against the shaft fucking your mouth.

“Damn man, that was such a good idea.” 

They high fived above your back, the clap ringing in the silence of the room, before you heard moans and growls again, and skin against skin.

They used your body, groaning more and more, telling what a slut you were, taking both of their cocks there. You pulled back just enough to remove the cock from your mouth, jerking the shaft covered in your saliva.

“Aren’t you afraid that we’ll make too much noise? That someone could come here?”

“Don’t worry sweetheart. Even if someone comes, there’s no way they’d touch you. This pussy’s ours, and only ours right now.”

Randy shoved his cock into your mouth again, stopping you from responding.

“Fuck, her mouth’s heaven. Did you think you’d get spit roasted, baby? Taking two cocks in here?”

“uh hu,” you mumbled, mouth full.

“You wanna switch, man? I wanna fuck this cunt.”

“Yeah! Lemme feed her mouth again.”

They turned places so quickly that you didn't have time to straighten up, and they immediately stuffed you full again.

“Oh damn. Her cunt’s fucking soaked...”

“Yeah, I spread her wide. Huh, baby?”

Randy’s gloved hand brushed your clit, surprisingly softly as his other hand gripped your hip tightly and he kept thrusting in your cunt.

“You’re gonna come, baby? You’re gonna come while we use you like a fuck doll, filling your two slutty holes?”

“Mmmm,” you mumbled again, as Cotton held your cheeks tightly in his hands, moaning louder and louder, until he stilled, cock buried in your mouth, and his cum spurted against the back of your throat. He held you in place, panting, breathing heavily, until you pulsed on Randy’s shaft, moans muffled by the thick cock still in your mouth.

Cotton didn’t let go of you, until you heard Randy breathe heavily. He fucked you harder, faster, hands firmly buried in the flesh of your hips. 

They both held you until he came too, long jets of hot sperm filling the bottom of your pussy. 

They finally released you, mouth and pussy filled. You thought that it was the best October 31st of your life. 

You smiled blissfully as you got up, and placed a kiss on the covered cheeks of each of them. Cotton gave you some water from his backpack, before you walked to the ground floor, then to the parking lot. They waited for you to leave, waving at you when you looked at them. The knife and the gun in their other hands.

The next afternoon, you went to see Sarah to surprise her. You told her about the hospital, without mentioning the final part, of course. While she was preparing lunch for the two of you, you asked her for the Scream DVD you had lent her. You wanted to watch it again that night. She told you to get it back from her father's room.

"I didn't know your father liked horror movies?"

"Me neither, actually," she replied with a shrug. “He told me he wanted to watch it. It surprised me too.”

You went upstairs and entered Joel's bedroom. He had a TV on the dresser, and you approached it to get the DVD that was probably there. 

A backpack on the floor caught your eye. A Ghostface mask was sticking out of it. A lump formed in your stomach, but you didn’t really understand why. Halloween had just passed. What could be more common than those masks? Even your friends were wearing them last night. 

Though, curiosity got over you, and you grabbed the backpack and put it on the bed then opened it wider. You took out two masks, leather gloves and two long black capes.

Your instinct made the ball in your stomach double in size. You went back down, trembling.

“Did you spend yesterday’s evening with your dad, Sarah?”

“No, he had some work to do with Tommy. He came home late.”

You smiled mechanically before grabbing your phone, and frantically searched for Randy’s name.

“Did you get home safely last night, after the hospital?”

“What are you talking about? I sent you a message telling you we couldn't go?”

Your hand clenched your phone when you hung up, your body frozen. You remembered the evening before, hearing Sarah’s father come down the stairs from her bedroom, walking into the dining room. You remembered you heard him on the phone “Tommy? Yeah, everything’s ready.”

You remembered the moment you left the Millers’. after taking your phone that you had left on their dining room table. Unattended.

An icy feeling ran down your spine, when you remembered all that.

You thought about the looks Joel Miller gave you sometimes. You thought of last Sunday, when Sarah had invited you to lunch. Tommy Miller had opened the door for you, his gaze sliding over you up and down without any discretion. Then the look he exchanged with his brother.

You barely had time to open the front door and threw up in the driveway.

“Something got stuck in your throat, sweetheart?” Joel asked you as he got out of his truck, after parking.

Tommy chuckled, joining his brother in front of you. Their posture seemed all too familiar to you, suddenly. The same smirk crossed their faces. 

You threw up again.

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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[latenightdaydreams]

Hi,hi😘🤗😄

Demon! König X Nun!Reader

First of all I honestly want to tell you that I really like your posts and the way you write your fanfics, every day the first thing I do after waking up is usually go to Tumblr, to check if you have posted anything.

Tôi thấy bạn đã từng viết về các linh mục! Konig X Nun! người đọc, sau đó tôi muốn khác biệt

The reader was awakened in the middle of the night by a strange noise outside the church, encountered a stranger drenched in the rain, because of her kindness and naivety, she gave the stranger shelter from the rain overnight and was raped.

Tôi sẽ vui cả ngày nếu bạn trả lời tôi về yêu cầu này, yêu bạn 😘😍🤩❤️❤️❤️

Thank you so much���� It always means to much when I get such sweet messages😭🩷 And yes!!

Demon!König x Nun!Reader (fem)

🚫MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING🚫

As always, please skip if you cannot handle or do not enjoy graphic topics! Your mental health matters! I hope you all have a great day💗

MDNI🔞

Master List✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, p in v, virginity loss, religious themes

1.7k word count

⛪

.

.

War has torn apart the village you live in, leaving only the solace of the Lord to get you through these dark and depressing times. You’re fast asleep in your bedroom within the church walls when a loud crashing sound wakes you up. Quickly, you stand, putting a scarf over your hair, then grab your purple robe and wrap it around your body. You pick up your flashlight as you walk through the dark church to inspect the noise.

You open up the front doors of the church and look around, shining the flashlight into the darkness as heavy rainfalls in front of you. Not exactly wanting to get wet, you decide to chalk the sound up to thunder. That’s when your eyes focus on the outline of a large individual. You shine your light on him to see it’s a man shivering from the icy rain. Instantly, you feel a strange feeling about this man. Where did he come from? You shake that feeling away, deciding to do what God would want you to do.

“Sir? Are you alright?” You call out to him.

König lifts his head as blonde hair falls over his face, his eyes roaming down your form hidden by your robe. Your voice sounds so sweet, almost as sweet as he’s sure you’ll taste. A little nun is left all alone when most villagers have gone off to war or died.

“Ja, I’m just lost.” He lies so effortlessly. “I lost contact with my family and I don’t know where I am.”

You look at him up and down. The man is massive and his Austrian accent is thick. With a quick glance around, you decide the holy thing to do is to let him inside, at least for the night. He could get sick in the rain and pass. That’s not something you could live with.

“Please, come inside for the night. I have a cot you could sleep on. Let yourself rest up as the rain passes.”

“Danke.”

König approaches the steps of the church, his tall stature towering over you as passes you to step inside the dark church. He looks around as you close the doors again, locking them once more. As you approach him again with the flashlight in hand, he gets to see your features up close, noting how delicate you look.

“I’m König.” He holds his hands out to shake yours.

“Sister y/n.” You place your much smaller dainty hand in his, his skin feeling warm to the touch.

His pale blue eyes linger on yours, seemingly reflecting in the darkness. The sight causes your heart to skip a beat, but you convince yourself it was a flash of lightning. König can smell your fear, your innocence. Such a tiny little thing, he will have fun ruining you.

“I have a cot and extra blankets that you can use for tonight. The priest might have left behind something you can fit into so you can let your uniform dry.”

“Thank you, Sister.”

As you walk forward into the back of the church, König follows closely behind; his eyes traveling up and down your body. You open up a door on the left, a closet where everything was kept. König lingers by the door as you bend over to grab blankets from the basket and then grab a cot.

“Let me, Sister.” König reaches out, grabbing the items from your arms.

“Thank you.” His kind gestures relax you and make you feel better about your decision to help him. “You can set up in the church and I’ll go to the old priest’s room to look for clothing.”

König nods, stepping back to allow you room to walk past. His eyes follow what direction you go in, lingering in his spot for a few seconds before dropping everything and following you. With quiet and careful steps, he follows you up a short staircase to the bedroom. The old wooden door creaks open. The room has a lantern lit showing a large cross with bloody Jesus hanging over the queen size bed.

You turn quickly to see König stepping inside, this time that deep sinking feeling isn’t as easy to shake away. He gets uncomfortably close, invading your personal space. One of his hands comes up and caresses the side of your face, slowly moving up to push your veil off and exposing your hair underneath. A light gasp leaves your lips as you turn to grab it, only to be stopped by his hand grabbing your arm.

“Please, let me go.” You whimper with fear in your voice.

“Sister y/n, so young and trusting. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to trust strange men?” He smiles, revealing his sharp teeth.

“Please, don’t hurt me.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” His grip on your wrist tightens as he pulls you to him. “I’m going to make you feel amazing, Sister.”

König grabs a fistful of hair in his hand, pulling your head back. With his other hand he pulls at the ties of your robe, pulling the garment from your body to expose the thin white nightgown you have on below. His hands grope you, grabbing at your breasts through the fabric while you try your hardest to fight back against him. It was no use; he is so much stronger than you.

With little effort he drags your body to the bed, slamming you down on it. The breath gets knocked out of you as your eyes go wide looking at him. His once blue eyes, now pitch black as he smiles down at you with a wicked grin.

“Wh—what are you?”

“An angel.” He says mockingly as he laughs at your fear.

König leans down and licks your face, causing you to try and turn away in disgust. He bites your jaw, both of his hands bringing your wrist together above your head. In one hand he holds your wrist, pining you to the bed right where he wants you. His other hand slips beneath the hem of your gown and caresses your inner thigh.

With all of your might you try to close your legs and stop his hand from gliding up further. It’s no use, his fingers hook the fabric of your white cotton panties and pull them off of your body. His fingers squeeze your mound before slipping his fingers between your slit.

“Please stop! You can’t do this!”

“I can and I am.” He presses his lips against yours in a painful kiss as his hand rubs back and forth on your sensitive clit.

Your both writhes underneath his body as he touches you. Shameful moans leave you and are muffled into his mouth. His tongue swirls around yours before biting down painfully on your bottom lip. You cry out as the taste of cooper fills your mouth.

“Stand up, get undressed.”

König moves off of you and begins to pull off his black shirt and undo his pants. You stand, trembling as you take your nightgown off. As you stand naked in front of him, you begin to pray. He laughs loudly listening to your prayers. He grabs your hair harshly and drags you to the end of the bed, pushing you down.

The only think you see when you look up is Jesus Christ on the cross, looking down at you as he pulls your hair. You don’t stop praying as König slaps his cock on your ass. He presses himself against your asshole before dropping down to the entrance of your virgin pussy. As you pray to send the demon König away, his hips buck forward slipping his cock into your tight cunt.

“Oh, you feel so heavenly Sister.” König’s voice a low growl as he thrust his hips into you.

Streaks of blood left behind from his fat cock tearing your hymen. Your face scrunches in a shameful mix of pleasure and pain. His cock bullies its way deeply inside of you, making sure he completely fills you.

“Please God, save me—”

“Ja, beg your God to save you, Taube.” His hips slam harder into you, your pussy fluttering as you try to adjust to him. Your prayers don’t stop. As if truly thinking you matter. “Your god doesn’t care about you. You’re all alone. Here. With me. I’m your god now.”

“No!” Your fingers grab at the bedsheets and squeeze as you feel how wet you’re getting, your body betraying you and enjoying every painful thrust.

König pulls his cock out and yanks you back by your hair roughly. “Open.” You do as he asks, fear in your eyes as you look up at him. He slips his cock into your mouth, moving his body over yours so that you’re leaning back between his legs. His hips begin to thrust into your mouth, shoving himself down your throat.

You gag; your hands hit his ass trying to stop but it only encourages him more. Tears pour down your face as spit begins to bubble at the edges of your mouth and fall down your face. Your body tenses as you try to not vomit. The salty taste of his precum of coppery taste of your cunts blood mix and add to the unpleasant sensation.

He pulls back, slapping his slobbery cock on your face as your gasp for air. “Pray to me, pray I fuck you.”

As you’re gasping for air, you feel broken down. A demon entered the hold grounds and is breaking your vow to the lord. God nowhere to be found as you plea for his salvation. With trembling lips, you pray.

“Dear König, please fuck me. Please fuck my pussy.” Tears roll down your cheeks as you gaze up with puffy lips.

“Perfect Sister. Perfect.” He pushes you back onto the cold wooden floor as he crawls on top of you, shoving his cock back inside of you.

After that night, your faith in God has never been the same. There is no feeling of the Holy Spirit around you, only the empty and cold walls of an old building. The demon named König visits you in your dreams to torment you. You often spend your days staring blankly into space, waiting for König to come back and claim you again.

[scudslut]

Ok hear me out. Reader and Daryl go on a run for supplies with a few other people. Reader makes a mistakes and almost gets seriously hurt/ near death experience. Daryl gets pissed at reader, maybe yells at her. Reader laughs it off and acts like she doesn’t gaf. Daryl later finds reader all shaken up and crying by herself. Love if you don’t, love if you do!

stay with me

daryl x fem!reader

wc: 2k

warnings: typical twd gore/violence, mentions of death, mentions of trauma/ptsd

a/n: absolutely love me some good fluffy angst, thank u nony❤️ i hope you like it:))

As much as you tried to prepare yourself for the inevitable situations runs would put you in, the blood-chilling reality of it never got any easier. No amount of mental prep could stove off the sounds and smell of the dead, nipping ravenously for a taste of your sweet living flesh.

Of course, over time you’d learned just to shut your brain off and fight. Fight as hard and tirelessly as you possibly could, but mistakes could still be made. Shit happened, whether it was your fault or not.

Hours earlier, a group of you went a few miles east of the prison; Daryl having spotted a little strip a few days prior, not too overrun that he thought might be loot-worthy.

It was a simple run really. Keep close, hit a few shops in and out, then head back home. That’s it. Follow the plan, get as much useful shit as possible, and get the fuck out of there. You guys had it down to a science at this point, runs becoming so second nature it was almost too easy to let your guard down nowadays.

“Hey D, I’m gonna go check the storage room back here. Might have something we could use,” you voiced to your partner a few isles down, still keeping your tone as low as you could.

“Gimme a sec, I'll come help ya,” you heard him say but you kept moving. You two had already cleared the main area, you could handle a walker or two if there actually was any behind the small door. You figured you would’ve heard something by now, some sort of banging or grumbling to announce their presence, but there was nothing, the coast presumably clear.

You should have waited.

Crossing the few miscellaneous isles you reached the back door, giving it a small rattle. Still complete silence, not even the faintest groan or shuffle. Knife at the ready, hand clamped over the cool metal handle, your heart rate picked up a notch as it always did before opening into the unknown.

“You got this, come on,” you muttered to yourself, before throwing the door open, bracing for attack. The door flew wide, only to reveal a dark, empty room. Squinting through the dimness, a few high, dusty shelves were visible, stocked with all sorts of canned goods. Fuck yea, that was certainly useful.

“D! Come look what I found!” you rasped, dropping your knife into its holster and shuffling in. You unslung your backpack from your shoulders, digging through it for a flashlight excitedly. It’s been so long since you’ve found this much canned food, surely enough to keep the group well stocked through most of the winter that was approaching. A loud creak from the left caught your attention as you sped forward. Hands finally finding purchase on the flashlight, you flicked it on, scanning across the room to the sound.

Dust caked the air, making the already dark room fuzzier and your eyes took a minute to adjust. You took a few smaller steps closer, peering wearily ahead and then you saw them.

Beady, soulless eyes staring back. A whole rickety staircase of them, heads turning one by one to the light source in your hand.

“Oh fuck.”

There had to be at least 10 of them that you could see, the top of the stairs pitch black and unrevealing.

Your feet stumbled backward, hands desperately reaching for the knife at your hip, dropping the flashlight in the process. It rolled and caught under your heels, knocking you on your ass as the corpses advanced, jaws snapping.

These were those moments. When you felt your heart in your throat, brain stuttering on action. Time moved so slowly that the fragments were almost visible and every thought screaming in your mind sounded like gibberish. You know you should move, is that what it was screaming?

The first one got to you, grabbing your leg trying to crawl up and finally, you were kicking, scrambling, grabbing onto the knife and slamming it into its skull with a loud squelch.

“Daryl!” you yelled. You needed him. Now.

3 more dropped before you, slinking towards you and you were trapped — the first corpse lying heavily over your midsection.

“Yea, yea girl. I heard ya,” you heard him respond, still sounding a few isles away.

No no no, this was not how you were gonna die. Not today. Please.

You kept stabbing, each kill taking everything out of you as you struggled against the body weight atop you. They just kept piling, you could hardly feel your legs anymore, the circulation surely cut off below your knees. And more were coming, a never-ending stream of hunger.

Another one landed before you and you had just enough time to catch its shoulders before it was inches away, snapping at your neck. Your arms burned, tears welling in your eyes as you realized this could be it. You didn’t know how much longer you had before they gave out and rotting teeth would be sinking into you, tearing you apart.

The walker kept snapping, so close you could see the layers of rotting flesh peeling from its face. You had been close to walkers before, had stared into the lifeless eyes too many times to count, but this was different. More were coming and the face in the reflection of its eyes was barely recognizable — terror painting every feature you’d known on you distorted.

The bones cracked in its left shoulder and it dislocated, dropping down to centimeters from your skin.

“No,” you sobbed quietly. Daryl wasn’t going to make it, you knew that. He was going to walk in and find his girl as dinner. You hoped he just booked it, and didn’t waste his time trying to save what would long be gone.

The walker fell limp in your arms and you flinched harshly, expecting excruciating pain to follow as it bit. But there was nothing.

“The fuck are ya doing! Get up!”

Daryl was suddenly right before you, ripping each body off your aching limbs and you were now acutely aware of the larger pile by the stairs, all with arrows and stab wounds littering their heads. When had he gotten in here?

You didn’t hear his words, adrenaline coursing so loudly through your system that all that could be heard was a loud, shrill ringing.

“Goddammit girl, wake the fuck up!” he shouted, grabbing you by the shoulders in an attempt to lift you. Your brain caught up then, as he harshly placed you on your feet. Walkers scattered the floor around you, and a grumble at the stairs announced it wasn’t the last of them.

Daryl reached down, grabbed your dropped items, and shoved them in your dumbstruck hands. “We’re gettin’ outta here, now,” he seethed, dragging you along and slamming the door behind you both, crossing the lines of isles quickly to the front entrance.

The fresh, afternoon air hit your nose in a gust and the last of the fuzz chipped itself from your senses slowly.

“Hope yer fuckin happy with yerself. Can’t ever listen to a goddamn word’a mine, can ya?” Daryl quipped beside you. His eyes were slits as they dug into you, so fuming you could see the heat radiating off his skin in the early autumn brisk.

He was angry at you, you knew that. But you also knew it was because he was scared. Hell, you were fucking terrified to stone back there, but if you wanted to calm him down at all, you knew you had to act unfazed.

Gathering any remaining wits about you, you took a deep inhale, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting them.”

He didn’t respond, wouldn’t even look at you anymore as he began to pace the graveled parking lot.

“Hey don’t stress Dar. I’m alive, we’re good,” you attempted to soothe further.

“Don’t stress? Yer a real piece a work, y’know that! Always fucking up everyone’s shit cause ya don’t wanna use yer brain, huh?”

Well, that did not go as you expected.

The rest of the group had started shuffling out of the other shops around you, making their way to the vehicles.

“Jeez, you need to lighten up,�� you brushed past him, head high. You couldn’t let his words affect you, not with all the other emotions coursing as well. You didn’t understand what he meant. You had never put anyone other than yourself in danger, how could you possibly be fucking over everyone else?

You decided to wait in the car as the rest of the group went back for the cans, tag-teaming whatever walkers remained. The loot had decently filled both trunks and everyone was happy to call it a day and head back.

Your eyes followed Daryl as he jumped into your car, eyes trained on the windshield, “Ya alright at least?” he muttered glancing at you briefly while shifting the car into drive.

“I’m good, you big grump,” you huffed with a tight-lipped smile. “That much food will last us a long time. I believe a thank you is in order, don’t you think?”

You were not good. Not at all, but there was no reason to worry him anymore, putting him through enough today as it was. Your hands were shoved tightly under your thighs, so he couldn’t see the tremors racking through you.

You had smelt death so many times it didn’t bother you much anymore. Today you had smelt your own. Saw your life in that walker's eyes, mere seconds away from demolition. It was safe to say you were shaken to your core.

The journey back was silent, both not in the mood to chat for very different reasons, and the whole time you were trying to keep each breath of yours steady.

You helped unload as much as you could, before slipping away discreetly to your cell. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this, you felt kind of pathetic honestly. This was life now, it had been this way for a long time now, you shouldn’t be so shaken up as you were but the terror just wouldn’t leave your body.

Panic washed over you once again as your eyes hit your dim cell. Your mind was quickly slipping back into those last moments, the darkness and dust all too similar. The fear you had felt coating your veins icily and your breaths started to become agitated. There was nowhere else to go though. If you left the cell someone would see you.

Subconsciously, you backed yourself into the corner of the room, crumbling down to the floor with your head in your hands. Deep down you hoped your hyperventilating would knock you out. You didn’t want to think anymore — see it anymore. Tears were burning the back of your throat as you held down sobs, feeling the walker's hands and weight atop of you all again.

A small yelp escaped you when the hands became real. Pressure on your shoulders and waist and your head snapped up from its hiding spot, reflexes already prepared to fight whatever presence was with you.

“It’s jus’ me, hey, hey,” you heard through your panic, his blue eyes just recognizable through blurry tears. “S’okay, relax.”

You couldn’t calm down this time, vicious sobs finally breaking their way out of your frame. Running was your first thought; you didn’t want anyone to see you like this, Daryl or not. Emotions were never a strong suit of yours and would always find yourself dealing with them in private, away from sympathetic words and pitying eyes. But Daryl was never like that, he drew you in and held you tight, uttering no more words other than the ones to confirm it was him. If you asked him to say more, he would, but he knew this was what you needed. Someone to ground you back onto Earth and out of whatever images tormented your head.

So that’s what he did. Held you for hours as your body expelled all its terror and lingering adrenaline. He’d give quiet coos through each wave of shakes, grabbing a blanket to warm you through the cold sweats. And finally, once the fear faded to exhaustion, he scooped you up off the stiff concrete and into your soft cot.

“Stay with me?” you rasped, throat parched and raw from crying.

It wasn’t a second thought for him. He was never truly angry with you, and he knew you knew that. He needed you safe with him.

“Always.”

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

*NSFW* I'll keep you warm (Yandere!Lynx Shifter X GN!Reader)

CW: Intense temperature exposure , Yandere behavior, dub-con, dead dove, imprisonment/abduction

Inspired by @lonelyafacy 's monster suggestion ❤️

Mother Nature was a cruel and indifferent witch, unforgiving towards those foolish enough to tread her wilderness. (Reader) smacked their dying flashlight, becoming numb to the harsh winter cold through their snowsuit.

The weather had turned for the worse, changing from a snowy winter's day into a blizzard that lasted into the night, separating (Reader) from their group. Their lips were stuck together with frozen blood, and their eyes could barley stay open. The snow coming down was deceptively sharp, nicking their cheeks above the slipping scarf and turning their skin into fragile paper.

Although they pushed on, trying to use the stars amongst the flurry of white as their guide, their limbs were losing their feeling, and (Reader) was beginning to wonder if it was worth the battle. The flashlight flickered again as though it could hear their thoughts. (Reader's) knees buckled, causing them to collapse by the base of a tree. They pulled their limbs in under their body, and fell unconscious, incapable of keeping themselves awake through the cold.

Am I dead?

(Reader) smelled something cooking before they realized they felt warmth. They hadn't been anywhere near civilization, so the first semi coherent thought they had was that they had died and this was heaven. Until their muscles began twitching in pain. A large hand pressed (Reader) back into a mound of furs when they forced themselves to move. The hand was warm and strong, even through the blankets (Reader) could feel it.

"Sleep." A gravelly voice commanded.

(Reader) kept their eyes closed, face mostly buried in the cloud like bedding. "Where am I?"

"My home. I found you outside." The unknown man responded while moving around the home, floorboards creaking under his weight. "Sleep more. It'll hurt less." His sentences were short and curt, but (Reader) didn't mind. Whoever he was had saved their life, so he couldn't be too bad of a person. (Reader) fell asleep again.

After thirteen hours (Reader) woke up and was able to sit up without pain, still feeling exhausted despite sleeping for such a long time. Their stomach hurt from hunger. "Hello?" They called out for whoever had rescued them.

A giant entered into view, wearing a hood that obscured his face from (Reader). He held out a wooden bowl filled with some kind of stew. "Can you eat?"

(Reader) reached out from the blankets, immediately going into shock when they saw their own naked arms. "Where are my clothes?"

"Drying. You think I'd put you sopping wet in my bed?"

Embarrassed, (Reader) turned red, ashamed for doubting their hero for even a second. They grabbed the bowl, thanking the man quietly.

"The blizzard has gotten worse. Even I can't leave right now. Once the storm has passed I'll point you in the direction you need to go. Until then, stay warm. Heal up."

"...Thank you."

"You already said that."

"That was for the food. Thank you for saving me."

Although he had his back turned to (Reader) they could see him tense under their words. (Reader) assumed he was uncomfortable with their presence, based on how he kept his face hidden. "My name is (Reader)."

"You don't need to know my name." The man's response was almost panicked, growling as he stormed out of the room.

(Reader) was left upset over the fact that they seemed to anger their savior. He must be anti social..

They finished the bowl of stew and waited under the fur blankets, unable to take care of their dish without walking around in the nude. After some time he returned, taking the bowl without a word, his hand seemed huge in comparison to (Reader's).

"Thank you." They smiled up politely, hoping he was looking. The man shuddered again, hurrying away with the bowl. (Reader) cleared their throat. "Are my clothes dry yet?"

"Your jacket was frozen solid when I found you. It took a few hours just to thaw. Everything is still damp."

"Why were you outside in this weather?"

"I was on my way back from some last minute hunting and gathering."

"Ah, I see. Thank you. Again."

"There is no need to thank me." His body seemed to relax. (Reader) smiled, hoping that this meant they were wearing him down.

"You saved my life. I got separated from my friends and couldn't find my way in the dark. I would have died out there if it wasn't for you." (Reader) spoke as sincerely as they could. "You're my hero."

He took a deep breath. "I have... lived alone for a very long time. No one knows that I am here. I almost... left you, when I found you."

(Reader's) heart grew heavy with guilt. "I promise I won't tell anyone about you." They briefly imagined that under his cloak was a kind of Quasimodo esque being, who risked his identity to save them.

Even without seeing his face the man seemed surprised, turning to (Reader) and staring from under his hood.

"Cain."

(Reader) gave a large toothy grin. "It's nice to meet you, Cain."

They sat together in a strangely comfortable silence, before a gurgle reminded (Reader) that, unfortunately, they were still human. "Do you have a restroom?"

His relaxed demeanor stiffened again. "It is.. down the hall." He quickly handed an oversized shirt to (Reader) before turning his back for privacy, and pointes in the direction of the facilities.

(Reader) threw the shirt on without thinking too much about it, and painfully hopped to the toilet. The building was a cozy little cabin, (Reader) was just now realizing, with pictures hung up on the wall of a family. They wondered if it was Cain's family. But the need to go was stronger than their curiosity.

They collapsed onto the toilet before realizing that there was an odd smell in the bathroom. It wasn't the normal bad stench of a toiletries, but it smelled rotten.

In the corner of the room was a pile of clothes, and other than that the restroom seemed to be empty, with nothing that could be causing such a smell standing out to (Reader). (Reader) didn't want to be snoopy, but... They finished hurriedly, praying that Cain couldn't hear them, and picked up the clothing. The clothes were heavy, torn into shreds and soaked in old, dried blood. A chill ran down (Reader's) spine. Cain didn't want anyone to know he was here. He considered leaving me to die to keep that secret.

How far could I make it in just a shirt?

They left the restroom, trying their best to appear normal. The family on the walls taunted them. Did the blood belong to one of them?

Cain sat by the fire, still hiding under his cloak. Next to him was (Reader's) clothes, hung up on the back of a chair. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. (Reader) sighed, placing a hand on their heart to muffle it's pounding. He still saved me.

(Reader) touched their shirt, feeling the warm dampness and was relieved, because it meant Cain hadn't been lying about that at least. "How long do you think this storm will last?"

"Hopefully just the night. It could last up to a week though."

They shivered at the thought. "Do you have a couch I can sleep on? I wouldn't want to take your bed. Again."

"You can take the bed."

"I'm really fine-"

"Take the bed."

(Reader) could feel the adrenaline shoot to the tips of their toes. "O-okay." Although there was a smile on their face, the previous comfort they felt around Cain was dead. They had trusted him so much simply because he rescued them that they had forgotten that Cain was still a stranger.

Cain grabbed (Reader's) wrist as they passed, his hand engulfing their forearm with his inhumanly large mits. The air became heavy, and (Reader) could feel their arm sweating in his strong grasp.

"Your hand smells like blood."

Frightened, (Reader) smacked at Cain with their free hand, knocking his hood back. Although his face looked only a few years older than (Reader) his shaggy hair was a light grey, and atop his head were two pointed ears, pressed back against his scalp. If it weren't for the coloration, (Reader) CO m wouldn't have noticed the ears at all with how flatly they laid against his head. Shocked, he released (Reader's) arm, giving them enough time bolt out the front door, back into the blizzard.

Snowflakes pierced their skin as they ran, and the warmth they had gained in the cabin was gone the moment they left it's protective embrace, robbed by the harsh environment. Barefoot, (Reader) ran in a random direction, not capable of rational thought. With fight, flight, or freeze, they learned in that moment what kind of person they were.

Between the clouds masking the stars and the onslaught of snow, (Reader) was left completely blind. Without any clothes it felt like their muscles were shredding in their legs. (Reader's) legs gave out much more easily than they had the first time.

(Reader) could barely hear Cain's footsteps above the roar of the wind. Through the trees a large grey monster stalked into view, walking on its hind legs like a man, it's terrifying size was more reminiscent of a bear's. It's ears were flattened, and there was an almost human like expression of disappointment on its face.

"What were you thinking, running off into the woods?" It's voice was hoarse, but it was recognizably Cain's.

As he approached his fur receded, shrinking back down into his more human form, still with animal ears, now naked in the snow. He bent over (Reader's) violently shivering form as they crumbled.

"Did you forget that there was a storm?"

(Reader's) eyes stung as they tried to cry. "Please don't kill me." They weakly pleaded.

"Why would I save you, only to kill you later?" His warm breath thawed (Reader's) cheek. "You were unconscious for a long time when I found you. I thought you were dead. Unlike myself, you needed shelter suitable for a human. So I took one. I didn't have time to clean up everything. I needed to bring back everything I had caught to begin preparing a meal for when you awoke and making it comfortable for when I would eventually make you mine, so I was hoping that you would understand. That I killed them for you."

Cain's hot tongue licked (Reader's) cheek, the juxtaposition between the extreme cold and his sudden warmth made their skin feel like it was being torn off. (Reader) gasped out in pain, too cold to scream.

"I really did almost leave you in the snow. Because what if you left? Found out what I was and told the other humans? But look at you... Were you even conscious when you begged me to save you? Or was that your body acting on its own?" Cain got onto his knees, his skin searing (Reader's) flesh. His fingers digging into their shoulders felt like flames dancing across their body. Each touch from Cain burned. It was neither comforting nor pleasant.

"Ah, but now you're nearly frozen, yet again. Do you want me to warm you up?" Everytime Cain shifted his weight above (Reader), they were exposed to the blistering wind. As the parts of them hidden under Cain's body warmed up in his unnatural heat, the more excruciating the exposure to the outside was.

Tears melted (Reader's) fragile eyes. "Please, warm me up, Cain." Their primitive need for survival made (Reader) beg like a pathetic coward.

The loving smile on Cain's face was brief, before his face began shifting, becoming the humanoid monster he was moments earlier. Dwarfing the terrified human, he ran his rough tongue across their cold body, purposely allowing their body to freeze without his touch before warming (Reader) back up. He relished in the needy whimpers escaping (Reader's) lips as they suffered in the deadly temperature. (Reader) grasped at Cain's fur, trying to pull him in to steal his heat.

Clawed paws grabbed (Reader's) thighs, pressing their knees to their head uncomfortably. (Reader's) eyes widened in horror as Cain revealed his cock, resting it across their exposed bottom. They didn't have time to protest before their body was folded into a mating press, no preparation for their tightened hole, no warning to help them relax. Cain pressed his tip to the opening, and snapped his hips into (Reader's), thrusting in his entire member without lubricant.

Cain's dick was already hot, but with the added pain of the sudden insertion it was like being fucked by an iron poker. The scream (Reader) couldn't find earlier now ripped through their throat, the sound of their agony drowned out by the howling wind.

(Reader) pushed Cain away in surprise, but immediately regretted the action when he playfully leaned back, allowing (Reader's) chest to be assaulted by the snow and hail pelting them from all sides. They pulled him back, cringing at how Cain chuckled in their ear.

He fucked them in the snow, pressing deep into their gut painfully, and humiliating (Reader) further by licking away their tears as they sobbed under his body, incapable of pushing him away. Cain could stop at any moment, but the threat of frost bite kept (Reader) latching onto him, begging him not to let go. Their desperate cries only encouraged Cain to continue teasing them, watching with glee as their skin chapped and bled without his touch.

"It hurts..." (Reader) moaned as they pulled him in deeper.

"If you keep whining like that you'll only make me cum faster." Cain threatened, biting (Reader's) neck to hold in a gasp when they tightened around him. Their knees smacked into their temples as his pace sped up, his twitching cock threatening to release deep inside (Reader).

"No! Don't cum inside me!" (Reader) blubbered into the monster's fur.

(Reader) felt a wave of heat blast inside them as Cain pumped his thick load into their raw hole. As they wept loudly Cain continued happily smacking his wet pelvis into his beloved's, just the action of fucking his seed into them turning him on again.

Cain was already planning their futures together, as (Reader) imagined their death. This wouldn't be so bad, fucking (Reader) like this; purposefully keeping them needy so they clung to him like they wanted it.

Maybe one day, (Reader) would love him in the same way as Cain loved them, and would beg Cain to make love to them, but for now, he was content fucking them like a desperate, wild animal.

Blood from the wind burns and from the tearing from rough sex stained the white white under their bodies. Cain turned back into a human so he could kiss (Reader) passionately, taste their mouth salty from their tears.

"Let's go home, (Reader)."

[serxinns]

Hey thank you so much for taking my request but

If it’s okay with you can you make a yandere giant bakusquad x human reader

That is so scared of giants and when one of the bakusquad kidnaps immediately

Without the village knowing that reader has been kidnapped by giants taking reader to their new home

I hope you take my request if not then I’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable!!!

If you did thank you so much for taking my request!!!❤️

Yandere giant bakusquad x human reader!

A/n: it's finally done lord I'm tried and I hope you enjoy!

You lived in a small village with a bunch of huge walls blocking from the outside world, due to a large beast called giants you were told they were brutal and hungry beasts who invaded villages and devoured any human they lay upon, you heard stories from, your friends of how deadly these creatures were one friend told you they would impaled villagers on the stick and roast them like a kabob or stories about humans traveling into the outside world especially near their territory never to be seen again

There were very strict rules from the town leader for going in and out of the protected village one of the rules was to be back at a certain time or get locked outside which scared the villagers a lot to the point most of then wouldn't even step out or sneak out knowing the consequences it was like they Isolated themselves

you and some of your friends didn't believe some of those lies always wanted to find out yourself you were a very curious and exploring person as a child always wanting to explore even in the more dangerous of areas one time a guard caught 4 years you almost escaped giving your parents a heart attack and a very stern warning from the guards to them as the older you get the more stubborn you were the villagers would call you and your friends rebellious for not listening to the leader but you didn't care

One day you and your friends decided to play true or dare it was all wimpy and easy at 1st like pranking the townsfolk stealing some food and tricking people but it became very extreme until it was your turn to be asked "truth or dare" You wasn't a wimp so you picked dare "I dare you to go into the giants territory" your friend smirked mischievously while the others looked in shocked intrigued and worried, you were unsure of the challenge yes it was true that you have went outside of the walls before but going to the giants territory aka the paint forest was forbidden

You thought about it for a moment your friends stared at you, waiting for an answer "I'll do the dare" they all cheered one friend looked worried and scared "But you have to come with me" they all went silent gawking at your statement you can tell by their faces that they didn't wanna do it and was unsure of it but their pride overtook and accepted

Time skip

you gather your things like climbing tools, weapons, flashlights, food, and water the 4 of you snuck out of your houses and into the quiet night while the village was pitch black only the moonlight and stars shining brightly into the night, the 4 of you crept towards the big entrance which leads to the outside, a sleeping guard that was supposed to do its nightly duties was standing there to your unfortunate, so the 4 of you thought for a second on what to do, a girl in the group named Tasha grabbed a big rock nearby and threw it hard as she could to the opposite side causing a loud thud when it hit the ground that alerted the guard

He woke up in a cold sweat, swinging his weapon. "Who goes there?!" He barked as he flashed his flashlights at some bushes that were rustling, which gave you and your friends the time to quickly go through the entrance and exit the village, "we made it," you thought as you looked around your surroundings, and there in front of you were the giant's territory..the woods everyone including you stared at it for a moment grabbed your flashlights and walk down the path leading to the woods

The closer you get the more unsettling it gets.. the rustling of the bushes from the strong wind and the shadows of the creatures within the forest grow disturbing becoming sinister you even hear animals and creatures that you haven't heard or learned about before you felt your group getting scared Mike(another one of your friend group who was the leader) even started to grow doubts about this plan but you kept going you didn't wanna back down now, can you?

As the three of you made it in front of the woods you all stopped and looked up the trees were as tall as the trees back in your area rocking with the rhythm of the wind, you took a breath look behind to see your group one last time and walked in with your lights held high as they followed you, Josh stopped everyone and decided to make a plan to survive in the woods "Sasha you to set up a fire, Mike you go set up camp y/n and I would hunt" you looked back a bit reluctant "hunt!? In this area! What if we get lost? We don't even know what creature lurks here!?" "We'll be fine, promise, just get a few animals and come back to the camp. "You were about to reply until Josh quickly ran, weapon in hand "asshole.." you muttered under your breath as you cautiously looked around for any animals...

Time skip again

You walked over bored carrying a bag full of dead animals you hunted you then grabbed your light and started heading back to the camp until you heard a loud thud behind you making the ground shake you froze for a second quickly turning back to see nothing but the darkness surrounding the light you then slowly turned back and started walking only a bit faster that's when you heard another thud you turned again but nothing...you were about to turn around until a Hand grabbed you

You screamed trying to grab your weapon but the hand gripped you tight your body started shivering and squirming in desperation to break free from whatever was gripping you but to no luck "Aw how cute! Are you lost little one" You slowly turned to see a giant girl with pink skin and yellow eyes smiling and cooing like you were some pet or little child you stared at her already afraid but confused but you didn't wanna find out so you tried biting her which made her let go a bit making you fall but she quickly catch you "Hey now no biting!" She scolded, lightly, glaring at you. "Please don't hurt me! Just put me down please!!"

You started sobbing as the giant looked down at you in pity. "No, no, honey, I'm not gonna eat you.." she started trying to softly rock you and shush your cries. "Oi pinkie, what's the hold-up?!" Both you and the pink giant turn to see an ashy-blonde hair male coming toward her, glaring at her "shitty hair and dunce fade are already done, and the tape face is already back at the kingdom. What's the hold up with you? His eyes then lay upon your small shaking figure trying to hide from his gaze

"Well, you see, I got this cute little human while hunting and decided I wanted to keep it! Poor thing is dirty and beaten! We can't just leave it here!" Bakugo stared intensely at you while you shivered in fear you looked so small and fragile! He might not admit it, but he already adores you. He grumbled something under his breath, and Mina's expression brightened. "You gonna come home with us, sweetie!" She said as she skipped along following him ignoring your pleads and cries and yells for help

"We're here!" She exclaimed opening her hand out to make you see it was a tall castle that reached above the clouds and the village itself looked ginormous as well you were stunned and a bit scared by the size of the castle and at the entrance, a dark-haired male and another girl with short purple hair approached them "back so soon?" The girl spoke up, carrying what seemed to be a delicious dish, which you can admit spelled pretty well. "Yep, and we brought a surprise!" She said as she slowly pushed her hands towards gently opening them to reveal a small shivering little human curled up in a ball

Both Sero and Jirous's eyes widen, seeing something too small and defenseless, dirty and beaten. "Mina, where did you get them? And why they're bruised up? It better not be Bakugos doing," Sero said, glaring at the male. "My doing?! I didn't do shit scotch tape alien was the one who found them like this!" "I was hunting. There's nothing wrong with me. Can I please just go home!" Mina then started petting your hair with her finger, comforting you like you were a crying child and ignoring your little tantrums the 2 giants' gazes softened at the sight of you

"Let's get them inside and clean them up," Jirou said leading Mina in as Mina carefully held you in her palms Sero started to run some warm water in a bowl making sure the temperature was warm enough while Mina gently placed you on the sink you tried to run but her hand blocks your view "now no running it's bath time for you!" She giggled, reaching her hand towards you, gently and quickly, stripping you down to nothing "H-hey! What the hell! " You quickly wrapped yourself with a nearby tablecloth as your face turned red in embarrassment you felt utterly humiliated

They all stared at you for a moment, Mina gently pushing you with her fingertips to get in, but you scrambled away, clutching the cloth tightly. You weren't gonna bathe in front of these people, especially giants! "What's wrong? The water isn't the right temperature?" Jirou asked, sounding very Eager... too Eager "N-no, I-I just don't feel comfortable b-bathing in front of all of you..." "Well, one of us has to stay with you and help you clean, so you need to pick one!" Sero explained while the others stared at you wondering who will you pick

You observed every one of them, Mina seemed nice enough but a bit too clingy, and the other giant named Bakugo seemed scary so it was down to Sero and Jirou, your gut tells you to pick Jirou plus u felt a little safe with her more than the slim giant name sero so you pointed at jiu which she smiled making sero and Mina pout and whine while bakugo rolled his eyes she then ushered the 3 out making sure they were out of sight completely and shut the door behind them she then walked over to you with a sponge and cup in hand "don't worry ill be extra gentle!"

She then picked up a sponge and started scrubbing you slowly and carefully making sure no dirt was in sight you gotta admit it felt nice like you were in a spa you almost fell asleep which didn't go unnoticed by Jiro who was enjoying every single minute of your cuteness she then began to wash and comb out your hair with a large brush trying to get all the knots out then began rinsing you off with the cup which you cough wheeze and gag cause of the water "Sorry sorry!" She quickly apologized she then let you get out of the bowl as she looked away for a moment to let you wrap around in the table cloth once you were all covered up she gently picked you up and the two of you headed out the door into their shared bedroo,

You were met with the 3 giants again smiling excited to see you were fresh and clean "We got you some cute cozy little clothes for you to wear" Mina said excitedly holding out a cozy set of clothing you stared at for a moment wondering how the hell did they managed to make these so fast but your thoughts interrupted when sero pushed the clothes at you "go on wear em!" He said you smiled nervously as everyone stepped out for you to change you quickly changed into the clothes and it was a but big on you but it was pretty cozy, you then yelled out you were done as the 3 came in again

Mina squealed at the sight of you cooing and doting on you, repeatedly saying, you're so cute!" Or "I could just eat you right up," which made you a bit concerned. "You should thank Bakugo for the outfit. He made it just for you!" Sero said teasingly as Bakugo blushed, hitting the back of the man's head and earning an "ow!" From him "You welcome..." he managed to grumble out avoiding eye contact with you "Oh kiri and denki shoukd be here with the food any minute now! We can all have a dinner together!"

She said excitedly, running downstairs with you, followed by Sero following her behind and lecturing her to slow down when carrying you, "Kirishima and Denki?" You questioned yourself as the door swung open; answering your question, 2 males appeared, one with red hair and sharp teeth and the other with blonde hair as well, but with a black lightning strike. "We're home; sorry we're late; someone kept trying to eat all the rations?" He said as he glared at Kirishima, laughing sheepishly. "I couldn't handle it. I was hungry!" The boys were both bickering each other earning a bit of a chuckle from you being heard by the 2 boys as they glanced at you

"Aww who's this little one!" Kirishima said, reaching hid finger out to you, which you flinched and tried squirming away. "We found them in the woods! Poor thing was beaten and dirty and alone!" Mina whined as the 2 boys looked at you with sympathy. "No, seriously, I'm fine! I was just hunting for some food with some friends for our camp. I need to go back home and-" "Honey, this is your new home!" The blonde Denki spoke up smiling gleefully at you, you froze realizing that home was Impossible "n-no! My homes down there in thr village my parents could be worried and the leader coul get mad-"

"Oh please, your parents never cared about you anyway, and that leader of yours is cruel for leaving someone as small and fragile as you out," Bakugo said, rolling his eyes and earning a glare from everyone in the room. "Bakubro that isn't very manly!" The red hair-stated "yea! You should've said it more softer they're already suffering from the realization that they got abandoned!" Mina added as she looked at you softly, "But it's true, sweetheart. I'm so sorry!" She pulled you closer to her cheek as some sort of hug there was an awkward silence in the air Jirou "cmon let's get you nice and fed and then get you to bed" Sero then grabbed you and headed towards the kitchen with the others behind

You were served a small portion of spaghetti as the others chomped down and devoured their food trying to make conversation with you wanting to learn more but all you could do was stare at your plate realizing that there was no way to escape these giants who think you got abandoned and now you were treated as some sort of pet or whatever! This can't be your fate no way no matter how good the food and care are you want to go home to your parents to your hometown to your village!

"Alright, little crystal, it's time for bed!" The red-haired giant claimed as he took you upstairs to prepare you to bed, you were met with the shared bedroom again but this time there was a large doll house that was 2x the size of the house in your village Kirishima grabbed the key from the counter and open it up revealing a nice looking bed he then places it down in the counter drawer with a working mini night light seriously were these guys that prepared to have a human pet or something!? He then placed softly on the bed Sero tucked you in as Mina, Denki and Jirou kissed you on the forehead making you blush

"Goodnight, sweetheart, sweet dreams~" As they got ready for bed, you then realized that this was your new home and this was your new life from now on...you can never escape them. You were their little human...Their human and they were damned to let anyone take that away from them

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: happy weekend.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Thursdays are your least favourite. You have two classes and a large chunk of nothing followed by a late lab. In the time in-between, you don’t bother making the venture back to your dorm, instead opting for the library after a quick stop at the cafe. After sitting around and trying to focus on the dense texts, you’re almost too exhausted for your lab. 

Still, you get through it without a complete disaster and another dose of homework to add to your pile. As you follow the tide of students down the halls, spread out in pairs, trios, and larger groups, you yawn. You peek out the windows in dread. It’s already dark. With the autumn well in-effect, the nights aren’t only earlier, but blacker. 

You’re the last out, hanging back as you’re too nervous to get caught underfoot. You come down the front steps of the century-old building as your classmates disperse in fading ripples of chatter. As they fade into the evening, you’re left alone. 

You keep your hand around your phone, tucked just inside your jacket pocket, and head down the path. There’s a shortcut behind the English hall but you only take that in the daytime. So, you’re left with the long-winding route. 

As you pass by one of those poles with the siren at the top and a button labeled, press for assistance, you’re reminded of those cautionary talks during orientation. Try not to walk alone after dark, it’s always best to practice the buddy system. Well, your only buddy isn’t answering your texts. Besides, it’s not Peter’s responsibility and he has a morning lab. 

Your soles scuff and echo, sending a child up your spine that has nothing to do with the temperature. It’s almost as if there’s another set of steps. You slow and peer over your shoulder. It’s only your shadow limned by the lamp post that lights the benches and hedges that trim the walkway. 

You turn back and gurgle around a yipe. You stagger away from the figure as they catch you by your upper arm. You pull out your phone and flick on the flashlight, shining it in your accoster’s face. 

“Please--” you begin as the man lets you go and shies away, shielding himself with his hand. His fingers gleam in the glow and the leather glove cut above his knuckles darkens his palm. “Huh?” 

Bucky taps the frame of your phone and you lower it. You gape at him in shock, casting the light at the pavement instead. He blinks as he clears his vision. 

“Great to see your reflexes are on point,” he rubs his eyes.  

“What---” you look around as you bounce on your toes. 

“Stalking around a college isn’t exactly my idea of a good night either,” he says as your question hangs unfinished. “On a call. Details are confidential.” 

“Uh, oh? Around here?” You peer around, heart thumping against your ribs as your throat tightens. 

“Ha, I know, right? I should ask you why you’re out so late. Wandering around in the dark?” 

You blanch and rest your hand on your messenger bag, itching to take out your puffer as the pressure builds in your chest. 

“I... just walking home, sir. I swear--” 

“Relax,” his eyes catch the movement of your hand. “You’re no villain, I know. I only meant...” he pauses and glances around deliberately, “not very safe to be out.” 

You gulp and pull up the flap of your bag. You cough and bury your hand into the small pocket sewn into the lining. You take out your puffer and bring it to your mouth. You suck in the air as his posture softens. 

“Hey, woah, I’m not tryna scare ya. You okay?” He asks. 

You nod and swallow, lowering the inhaler. “Sorry, I... I’m tired and the air is cold,” you explain. “I’m just going back to my dorm. My lab was late.” 

“Right,” he accepts easily. “Why don’t you let me walk you?” 

“I... I’m alright. What about... whoever you’re looking for?” 

“Am I looking for someone?” He challenges. “Just a walk through, doll.” 

“Oh, erm, but uh, I don’t wanna... distract you,” you clutch your puffer so tight you accidentally push down the canister. “Oh, uh, sorry.” 

“Not distracting me. I wouldn’t be very good at my job if I let a young lady walk home alone in the dark, would I?” 

“Maybe, but... you don’t have to,” you squeak. 

He takes a breath and lets it out slow. He clicks his tongue, “you don’t like me.” 

“N-no,” you sputter. “No, it’s not, erm, sorry. Sorry.” 

“Don’t listen to the kid, he’s full of it,” he says. 

“Peter? He didn’t--” 

“Sweetheart, I’m kidding with ya,” he pats your arm, “really, I’m just looking out for you. Young girl like you, so quiet. Sweet. I saw the way that guy almost walked right through ya. And what did you do? You apologised to him. That ain’t right. Not how you treat a lady where I’m from.” 

You fidget and peek around. You can’t see much more than shadows beyond the wooden slats of benches and barren bushes. “But... I was in his way.” 

“Now, doll, how could you be in anyone’s way? Hope it’s not Pete putting that in your head,” he intones. 

“Peter? No, he’s nice. He’s a good friend. He’s... he helps me,” you say. 

“Oh, I’m sure he does,” Bucky says, “point me in the right direction, doll? You stay out here any longer and you’re gonna chatter your teeth out of your head.” 

You hesitate before you get what he means. You don’t think he’s going to let you go alone and you really just want to go home. It is really cold out. You point behind him, “just down there and around.” 

“Right,” he turns and waves you along with him. You fall into step, too afraid to protest any further. You do feel a bit better not being alone. “Strange, you don’t strike me as Peter’s type.” 

“What? His type? Oh no, we’re friends,” you chirp. 

He hums. “Sure, just like all the others he brings to the Tower.” 

You frown and put your chin down, hiding your confusion, “others?” 

“Sure, bubbly ones. They talk a lot. Not like you though.” 

“Oh... well, we’re just doing a project,” you shrug. 

“I’m sure. Just a project,” he says. “Sorry, I misunderstood.” 

The air grows even more frigid as you walk on in silence. As you think of his implication, you feel your throat locking up again. You take another puff and cough. You turn and he follows you around the bend. 

“He isn’t worth your time anyway,” his deep timbre rolls through the tension. “I mean, if he was, he’d be the one walking you home right now, wouldn’t he?” 

[pretzel-box]

Hello!! I dont know if your requests are still open but if they are can you do one where sebastian realizes his feelings for reader? If your requests are close you can ignore this i love your writing

Mesmerised

words: 1k

tags: love at first sight, sebastian crushes on you

authors note: I kinda made it into a first meeting scenario, where Sebastian falls in love with reader without knowing them

if you want a friends to lovers type of thing just send another ask❤️

One thing that Sebastian had quickly figured out in the Hadal Blackside was that resources were rare and had immense value. The best source for them? His own customers—unfortunate souls who met their end at the hands of nearly every danger the abyss had to offer.

He didn't need to worry about Pandemonium or Wall Dwellers; most visitors sent by Urbanshade died to mundane things like a brightly burning door or a gas leak in a pipe. To Sebastian, they were nothing more than loot bags, ripe for the picking. He never even had to stress about them getting their hands on the silly crystal. At this rate, they’d all be dead long before they got close.

Tonight, he was out on a routine scavenging run, roaming the dark hallways after spotting an angler rush by. His eyes, perfectly attuned to the darkness, quickly picked out a lifeless corpse lying on the wet ground. Poor guy, Sebastian mused with a smirk, must be embarrassing to die to something so simple. 

He didn’t waste time, immediately crouching down to collect the scattered belongings. Among the items, he found a blacklight in good condition. That would fetch a decent price. He was so absorbed in his task, so confident and sly about securing new items for his store, that he failed to notice a pair of curious eyes watching him from the shadows.

“It’s not healthy to look at things in a dark light,” a voice said, startling him. You turned on your flashlight, aiming it just low enough so as not to blind anyone. You'd learned that lesson the hard way with your now-deceased teammate.

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat as you stepped into the dim glow, unbothered by his monstrous appearance. You were a striking contrast to the grim surroundings—calm, almost serene, as if this hellish place had nothing left that could surprise you. You offered him the flashlight, your expression unreadable.

“No need,” Sebastian muttered in his usual grumpy tone, not expecting to be caught in the act, especially not by someone like you. He raised one of his three arms, switching on his anglerfish lure to get a better look at you.

The soft, eerie glow illuminated your face, and for the first time in a long while, Sebastian felt something strange stir in his chest. You didn’t flinch, didn’t recoil in disgust or fear as most others did. Instead, you met his gaze with steady, almost curious eyes.

In that brief moment, Sebastian found himself captivated. There was something about the way you stood there, unfazed by the corpse, by him, by everything that should have sent you running. Your calm demeanor, your willingness to hand over your flashlight without a second thought, it all left him feeling... something. Was this what they called love at first sight?

He’d always thought it was nonsense, a ridiculous human sentiment that had no place in a world as brutal as this. But now, with you standing there, looking at him with an unreadable expression, he wasn’t so sure.

He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the unfamiliar feeling. “You’re awfully brave, aren’t you?” he said, his voice gruff but lacking the usual edge. “Walking around here alone. Don’t you know this place is dangerous?”

You shrugged, your gaze never wavering from his. “Dangerous, sure, but I’ve seen worse. Besides, I’m not alone, am I?”

That simple statement caught him off guard. Not alone. Did you really mean him? The idea of someone seeing him as anything other than a monster, let alone company, was new. Unsettling, even. But it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

Sebastian straightened up, awkwardly holding onto the blacklight he’d just looted. “Well, you should still be careful,” he grumbled, trying to mask his flustered state. “Not everyone’s as... understanding as me.”

A small, almost playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Noted. But I think I can manage.”

Sebastian couldn’t help but admire your confidence. There was something magnetic about it, something that drew him in despite himself. He found himself wanting to know more about you, to understand what made you so different from the others who came through his shop.

“So, what brings you out here?” he asked, trying to keep the conversation going, though his usual gruffness couldn’t completely mask the curiosity in his voice. “You don’t exactly look like the looting type.”

You glanced down at the corpse, then back at Sebastian. “Just exploring for something. This place has a lot of... mysteries. Thought I might find something interesting.”

“Mysteries, huh?” He couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. “You’ve definitely found something. Not sure if I’d call it interesting, though.”

Your smile widened just a fraction, and Sebastian felt his heart skip again. Damn it, what was wrong with him? He was a shopkeeper, a scavenger, not some lovesick fool. But there was no denying it—he was drawn to you, and he had no idea what to do about it.

“Maybe I’ll find something even more interesting next time,” you said, your tone light, almost teasing. “Who knows?”

Sebastian found himself nodding before he could think better of it. “Yeah... maybe.”

As you turned to leave, he couldn’t stop himself from calling out, “Be careful out there. And if you ever need... supplies or anything, my shop’s just down the hall.”

You paused, glancing back at him with that same unreadable expression. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you said, your voice soft but clear.

And with that, you disappeared into the darkness, leaving Sebastian standing there, holding a looted blacklight and wondering what the hell had just happened. 

“I should have asked for the name…”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Sebastian felt a strange flutter of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was something worth more than all the loot in the Hadal Blackside. And with such a cute prisoner in the hallways, he might feel generous enough to leave you the one or other discount. 

[greensagephase]

Nonviolent Communication - Part 15

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x SpideyFemReader Summary: You get sick and then get hit with your period at the same time. Word Count: 15k (most reasonable word count this story has had in months 🤣) Warnings: Sickness; menstruation; Miguel just wants to look after you!!; Short A/N: I'm ready to read the comments on this one, you guys better not disappoint Previous Part Masterlist Music Inspo (You can find the official Spotify playlist for the fanfic here) "Corazón de Poeta" - Jeanette "Sparks" - Coldplay, Acoustic Guitar Revival (guitar version)

Enjoy and thank you for reading! ❤️

Part 15

The moment you wake up, you feel it. The worst thing to wake up to.

A sore throat.

You sit up, blinking a few times as you adjust to the lighting. The sound of rain reaches your ears as it hits the penthouse’s windows. Glancing around, Miguel is nowhere in sight, though the pillow he used last night is still on the floor near you.

You swallow saliva, finding it hard to do so. Yep, you’re definitely sick. You sigh and push the blanket off you, only then realizing it’s been covering you.

Memories of last night come to mind. The power went out just as Miguel and you were going to have dinner, which led to lit candles and flashlights, and music from cassettes while lightning and thunder filled the sky. You eventually moved to the living room, where you continued to listen to music. You showed Miguel new ideas for his place and talked before you fell asleep next to him. And did you offer Miguel your pinky finger?

Staring at the rain, you remember you did and not only that, Miguel accepted it as you gaze into his eyes before you drifted off, too tired to bother with a blanket, which means Miguel covered you at some point after you fell asleep.

For a few seconds, you think about how you’ve slept on Miguel’s living room floor twice now. With him, Miguel. You never imagined such thing but the thought brings a soft smile to your face despite the ache in your throat.

You look around again, wondering where Miguel is before you stand up, your body feeling off, fatigued.

You still have it in you to fold the blanket before you realize you need to wash it considering you’re sick now. You sigh quietly in disbelief. For the first time in a few years, you’re sick. Your thoughts are interrupted by Miguel’s footsteps coming down the stairs, which makes you realize it must be sometime after 6am.

“Hey, good morning,” Miguel says, stepping into the living room, hair damp from his morning shower. Traces of Miguel’s hygiene products, scents you’re all too familiar with these days, immediately reach your nose when he approaches you, already in his suit. It doesn’t take long for Miguel to sense that something is off. “Are you alright?” Miguel asks, immediately taking in your appearance now that you’re awake.

You nod but then shake your head. “My throat hurts. It feels sore,” you reply, wincing slightly as even talking seems to make the ache worse.

Miguel’s eyes soften as he hears your voice for the first time today, taking notice of the way you wince and how your voice sounds different.

“Mierda [shit],” Miguel says gently, taking several steps closer to you. “Sore throat. Do you have a fever?” he asks.

You lift your hand to your face, unable to tell right now. Are you warm because you just woke up, or are you warm because you have a fever? You wonder to yourself, hand on your cheek, trying to figure it out when you suddenly feel fingers pressed to your forehead. They feel cool against your skin, though not cold.

You blink, realizing.

“Tienes fiebre [you have a fever],” Miguel says, his tone being one of concern while the back of his fingers are still pressed softly on your forehead. His fingers are bare despite the fact that his suit is already activated, making the contact skin to skin. “Your face is burning.” Miguel lowers his hand at last, not even thinking about what he just did, concern for you being the only thing present in his mind.

“You shouldn’t be this close to me then,” you say, stepping back. “I might get you sick.”

“Nonsense,” Miguel replies. “I won’t get sick, don’t worry.” Miguel steps forward again until he’s the same distance he was just seconds ago. “I’ll have one of the doctors at HQ check you.”

“That’s not… necessary, but thank you. I”ll be okay,” you reply, touched by Miguel’s offer and his concern nonetheless.

Your response instantly makes Miguel frown. What do you mean you’ll be okay with a sore throat and fever?

“You’re sick,” he says gently, despite his frown.

Holding on to the blanket, you look away from Miguel. You know you’re sick, you can feel the ache in your throat and how your body feels off, but a part of you doesn’t want to make a big deal out of this. A part of you simply wants to take some over the counter medicine and go on about the day, pushing through your symptoms. It’s what you did in the past the few times you were sick before joining the Spider Society, and after Peter’s death. You learned to take care of yourself since then and now, you’re no longer used to the concern or attention from someone.

“Do you want to go to your universe, or do you want to go HQ?” Miguel offers. “One of the doctors can check you, give you medicine.”

Your gaze meets Miguel’s at last. He’s staring at you, intently, waiting for a response. You nod at last. “HQ. Let me put my suit and get ready.”

“No suit,” Miguel says. “It’s raining and you’re sick. I’m driving us there, no swinging to HQ today. So just… put some regular clothes on, okay?” he adds softly. “Go ahead and get ready, I’ll let my team know we’re going.”

“Alright… thank you,” you say, agreeing with Miguel. You have a feeling that if you were to decline both of his options, he’d probably bring a doctor here to the penthouse to get you checked.

You get ready and change into regular clothes before you meet Miguel downstairs. He’s now wearing regular clothes, too, his suit disengaged to blend in, though that’s not his priority. His priority is to get you treated by a doctor and make you feel better.

The two of you leave the penthouse and head down to the car garage. He unlocks the vehicle and is quick to open and hold the door for you before he gets in the driver’s side. Despite feeling sick, you’re still somewhat aware of how strange it is to watch Miguel drive. It’s like you’ve unlocked another side of him.

The drive to HQ is a short one with Miguel knowing shortcuts around the city. You’re soon walking into the building under an umbrella that Miguel holds to shield you from the rain, walking near you as if he’s your bodyguard.

You head straight to the infirmary sector where a doctor is already waiting for you. Thankfully, the paperwork is short and soon, you’re in a room ready to get checked.

Miguel watches the process, standing by the door as the doctor does basic procedures such as getting your throat swapped and blood work.

“Lab results should take a few minutes. I’ll be back then,” the doctor says before they step out of the room.

You turn to Miguel as he walks over to you, a soft look on his face. He’s already making plans.

“Don’t,” you tell him softly.

Miguel raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me… You’re going home, right?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“You’re not working today, so you’re going home, yes?”

“You don’t want me here?” you ask softly.

Miguel steps closer, placing a hand on the patient’s bed, a few inches from your body, and looks down at you, his gaze gentle. “I’m not telling you what to do, but you need to rest properly on a bed where you’ll be comfortable, cozy. Not here at HQ.”

You nod. “I know, I was just… I don’t know. It’s been a while since I’ve been sick,” you admit, feeling fatigue. You turn away and yawn, covering your mouth.

Miguel watches you, hating that you feel unwell. He has little time to think about what you’ve said, about it being a while since you’ve been sick, but a quick thought comes to mind. Have you been sick before joining the Spider Society? The door to the room opens, interrupting his thoughts. Miguel turns back to look, removing his hand from the patient’s bed and stepping back to give you and the doctor some space.

“Blood work looks good and the throat swap is negative. It seems to be a simple cold, but I’ll give you medicine. Would you like a shot as well?”

You nod. “Yes, please.”

“I’ll take care of that, let me just write down the prescriptions I’m giving you - record keeping,” she explains looking up at you and then at Miguel for a second before turning back to their paperwork. They scribble quickly, thinking it’s not strange to see the owner of the building, the boss, with you. Not anymore.

They recall when he was here a year ago, injured. You stayed by his side the whole time and it had been briefly discussed by the other infirmary staff that you had taken care of Mr. O’Hara at his home. Clearly, the two of you are close friends, or something like that.

Now, Mr. O’Hara is here with you for less serious reasons, a cold, to show up for you like you did for him.

They finish up and excuse themselves.

“While you get the shot, I’ll be stepping out. I need to take care of something,” Miguel tells you, both to give you privacy since the shot will likely go on your upper buttock, and also because he needs to talk to Jess about today, maybe even about tomorrow.

“Alright, everything okay?” you ask him.

“Yes, don’t worry. I just need to talk to Jess about something,” Miguel reassures you.

You give him a nod, not probing for more information just as the doctor returns. Miguel gives you a small smile, that being his cue to exit the room. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, okay?” he says softly.

“I’ll be out shortly,” you reply giving him a small, reassuring smile.

With that, Miguel steps out of the room to give you privacy. He calls Jess through his gizmo, standing outside the infirmary room. A second later, she answers.

“Miguel.”

“Jess,” Miguel says. “Morning. It’s very sudden, but I want to ask if it’s possible for you to take care of things around here today?”

“I can. Is everything alright?” Jess asks, watching as Miguel turns away.

“Y/N is sick. It’s only a cold, according to the doctors here at the infirmary, but she has a fever…”

“It’s always good for someone to be around when dealing with a fever. It may change,” Jess tells him, knowing already that Miguel doesn’t want to leave you alone.

“Yes,” Miguel replies, turning back to face her. “I’m going to look after her, make sure it goes down.”

“Let me know if you guys need anything. I’d be more than happy to help.”

“Thank you, Jess,” Miguel responds. “I’ll keep that in mind. And I’ll tell Y/N about it. Thank you for today.”

“If you need to, take off tomorrow, too. It might just be a cold, but it can take a toll on the body for days.”

Miguel gives her a nod, relieved that Jess is making such offer so he can look after you. He had already planned for that, if he was honest. “Thank you. I appreciate it, Jess. I hope it doesn’t get worse, but we’ll see. I’ll keep you updated if I do take off tomorrow just to give you a heads up.”

“No need. I’ll know. Just look after her, alright? And tell her I hope she feels better soon. I’ll be sending her a message in a bit but either way.”

“I will,” Miguel replies softly. “I’ll tell her. Thank you again. Do let me know if I’m needed for backup.”

“Alright, take care.”

“You, too,” Miguel says before he ends the call. He gazes down the hallway leading to the infirmary lobby, lowering his arm to the side. Thankfully the floor is empty save for the medical staff, you, and him. No serious injury or someone on the verge of death. He sighs deeply as he remembers the few days he spent on this floor, injured, before he was allowed to go home. It feels like a lifetime since then.

He decides to wait a bit more to give the doctor and you time, so he stands there, just looking around. It’s so silent. He wonders if this is what it was for you, spending so many hours next to him with no one around to talk with. He thinks about you, waiting in the lonely lobby while his injuries were treated that rainy night.

You stuck by his side, like glue. You could’ve easily gone home at some point to rest, asked someone else to take a shift, but no. You stayed by his side every day. Miguel has a suspicion you would’ve stuck by him every second if you had it your way. He believes that especially when he remembers you offering to sleep on his bedroom floor to look after him that first night.

Miguel shakes his head now, still in disbelief. He would never allow such thing. He would’ve shared the bed with you before letting your body lay on the ground while he rested on the mattress. Of course, he didn’t make that offer because it was too personal for either of you back then, but now…

Miguel’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears the door open. He turns and finds the doctor wishing you a speedy recovery before she exits.

“I’ve given Miss Y/N medications and the shot, she’ll be feeling better soon but in any case that she doesn’t, bring her back in and we can give her other treatments,” she tells him. “Also, she’ll need to rest.”

“I understand, I’ll make sure she does. Thank you,” Miguel responds with a nod.

“You guys take care.”

Miguel nods again before he knocks on the door, entering when he hears your voice. He finds you halfway across the room, heading for the door already. You’re carrying a prescription bag just given to you by the doctor.

“You okay?” he asks softly, holding the door open for you as you keep walking.

“Yeah, I got the shot. It’s kind of hurting a bit,” you admit, feeling it sting as you walk. “But hopefully that means I’ll feel better shortly. Along with the medicine.”

“I hope so,” Miguel says genuinely as you walk out, falling in step with you. The two of you walk down the hallway, side by side, towards the lobby. “We can go home now. I’ll cook you some breakfast, something warm to ease the ache in your throat. And you’ll need to rest so you can get better, let the medicine do its job - let your body recover.”

“Rest? I don’t think I need to.”

“Doctor’s orders,” Miguel replies gazing at you, a hint of a smile on his face, wondering if you’ll be stubborn about this.

“She told me the same thing,” you say with a sigh as you both enter the lobby and head for the elevators.

“You’re not going to ignore doctor’s orders, right?” he asks.

“I guess not… What are you cooking?” you ask softly.

Miguel smirks softly to himself as he presses the button, the doors opening in seconds. He gestures for you to enter before he steps in.

“Don’t worry about it. You just rest and get better.”

The doors close and the lobby is once again empty, or so it seems. A nurse and the doctor turn to look at each other after listening to the little snippet of conversation, the interaction between the boss and you catching their attention. They turn to the elevator again, not recognizing the man that just walked by. He’s a different man from the one they met many years ago, one that was distant and stoic.

“To love and be loved, is to be changed,” the doctor mutters before turning to look at a medical chart, smiling to themselves.

-♥︎-

Miguel and you leave HQ, and drive home. You said you didn’t need to rest but the entire drive back to the penthouse suggested otherwise to Miguel. He glanced at you a few times while driving, finding your sleepy gaze each time as you stared out the window.

Upon arriving home, he ushers you upstairs to change into more comfortable clothing, which you obey without question before heading back downstairs, feeling tired.

You find Miguel moving around the kitchen. Pans are already on the stove. He’s changed into sweatpants and a dark t-shirt now that you’re both home, ready to look after you for the day, tomorrow, or however long it takes for you to be back to your healthy self.

You sit down on the counter and grab the medicine bag, taking everything out so you can read the directions and side effects, seeing that you’ll need to eat before taking some of them.

“Breakfast will be ready in just a few minutes, okay? Do you want coffee?” Miguel asks softly, walking up to the counter and standing across from you now.

“I can make-”

“Sit tight,” he says firmly but gently. “I’ll make it.”

“It…” you finish but Miguel has already turned around. A few seconds later, he starts on the coffee. He moves quickly around the kitchen, his moves careful yet determined.

Just as he’s placed two cups on the counter, he turns to the stove and checks on the food.

You lean back and close your eyes, feeling drowsy. You wrap your arms around yourself, glad you’re in cozy pajamas and wearing one of your favorite sweatshirts, the one Miguel gifted you for Christmas. You could actually go to sleep now without eating but knowing Miguel, he’ll probably refuse to let you sleep on an empty stomach and besides, you don’t want to decline his kind gesture when he’s already halfway done. So, you sit back and wait, listening to Miguel’s movement with your eyes closed. It brings you comfort and a sense of home, something not unusual to you in Miguel's presence.

“Café [coffee],” Miguel says gently a few minutes later, careful not to startle you.

Upon opening your eyes, you find Miguel in front of you. You glance down and find a mug of fresh coffee on the counter, steam coming from it. You can already imagine how great the coffee will feel against your throat, soothing the ache.

“Do you mind?” he asks, gesturing to the medicine bottles. He picks them up and reads the labels once you gesture that you don’t. He nods to himself, noticing that they’ll likely make you feel drowsy and dizzy on top of the fact that two of them need to be taken with food. He also memorizes how many times a day you’ll need certain medicines and the hours between to make sure you don’t miss them.

As he reads, you reach for the mug and softly blow on it to cool it off before grabbing the spoon and stirring it. You yawn just as Miguel places the medicine back on the counter, pretty much all the directions locked into his head. He’s going to make sure that you’re taking the medicines the way they need to be taken, his priority is for you to feel better soon.

“Let me get you breakfast,” he says turning away and walking to the stove. He fixes your plate first, doing it with affection and hope that you’ll find it suitable despite your sickness. He grabs the appropriate utensil before walking over to you, plate in hand, and gently places it in front of you, his gaze soft. “Please eat, it’ll help you,” Miguel says as he puts the utensil on the side of your plate.

With a sleepy smile, you nod. “I am, thank you, Miguel,” you say softly, your tone tired. You pick up the utensil, eating because he’s asked you to. You try to cool off the food a bit before taking a bite. Of course, your throat hurts even to eat but it doesn’t take away from Miguel’s amazing cooking, and you feel like it even awakens your appetite. “So good, as always,” you comment before taking another bite.

Miguel smiles, watching you eat and enjoy the food despite being sick. His chest flutters at the sight of your sleepy smile, unable to not find it endearing.

“Are you not eating?” you ask softly, an eyebrow raised.

Miguel blinks, distracted. He nods. “Si [yes], yes, of course. I was just… Making sure your breakfast is okay.” He turns away to fix himself a plate before joining your side. He glances at you every few seconds, wanting to make sure that you’re alright and not in need of something, but you eat silently and peacefully, at least as much as you can while being sick.

You both finish eating and continue to drink your coffees. The rain has not let up since yesterday and so, you both hear the soft pit pat on the penthouse’s windows, filling the silence in a very cozy way. A few minutes later, Miguel watches as you place your empty mug down. He downs the last bit of his and stands up, picking up both mugs to take to the sink.

You watch as he retrieves a glass and fills it with water before he approaches you. He places it on the counter gently and then places the medicines in front of you. “For your medicine. Then, rest.”

You thank him for the water and take your medicine, hoping the ache in your throat will disappear soon. “Hopefully I feel better soon.”

“You’ll feel better soon,” Miguel says, reassuringly. “You just need some rest. Why don’t you go to bed?”

You shake your head. “I’m not sleepy,” you say even though your eyes say another story.

Miguel tilts his head to the side. “Really?”

You nod but end up yawning at the same time, causing Miguel to raise an eyebrow. You give him a sheepish look. “Okay, maybe I am…” you glance at the medicine bottles, thinking about laying down and Miguel heading back to HQ. “Be careful, okay?”

Miguel blinks in confusion. “Be careful? Of what?”

“If you go out on missions. Just - be careful, okay? If you need backup, call for backup. Please.”

He shakes his head, brows knitted as he stares directly at you. He waits until you look back at him to respond. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re not…?” you reply, looking up at him, now confused.

“Nowhere. I’m staying here. At the penthouse. With you…”

“Oh.” You look down at the glass with water and take another sip. “I thought…” you trail off, not finishing your sentence. You thought Miguel would head back to HQ after breakfast to work, especially since it’s a work day. You look up at him again, finding a gentle and reassuring look on his face.

“No, I’m staying here… I’m looking after you. I’m not leaving you alone,” Miguel responds softly.

Holding his gaze, you nod, for some reason feeling relieved you won’t be alone, yet you don't want to keep Miguel away from work. “Thank you… Are you sure though? I’ll probably just sleep, so you probably don’t want to waste-” you start, wanting to let Miguel know he doesn’t have to stay at the penthouse all day, that he can go on about his day.

“Por favor [please],” Miguel says, lowering himself on the counter, resting his arms on it to be eye level with you. “Don’t say waste. You’re starting to sound like the old me,” he says gently, internally feeling frustration that you’re thinking like that, as if you don’t matter to him. “The one that didn’t want you to spend an entire day in the infirmary room with me a year ago.”

“That was different, though, you were injured. Seriously injured… Close to death. I’m just sick with a common cold.”

“Thankfully,” Miguel states. “It’s just a common cold and nothing more serious, but that doesn’t make it less important. It doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you all alone here to fend for yourself. I wish to do this, okay?” Miguel pauses and clears his throat quietly. “You’re my best friend.” Miguel's gaze is unwavering, leaving no room for questioning nor arguing with him. He's going to stay home and look after you today, tomorrow, or however long, until you're well. Period. “Déjate cuidar [let yourself be taken care of],” he adds gently.

You hum softly. “I wanted to say that to you a year ago.”

Miguel grins, eyes softening. He knows a year ago your friendship was still unofficial, neither of you had addressed it, so you held on to many of your thoughts, keeping them to yourself with the purpose of not pushing his boundaries. It’s a year later and things are different, at last. Progress has been made and Miguel can say what you are to him without the fear of what it means. He can now say those words you weren’t able to say to him a year ago. “Then, you understand… I ask the same of you now. Let me look after you. Please. It’s what friends do.”

Hearing Miguel’s soft tone and words, not missing the fact that he’s used the same words you said to him a year ago, you nod after several seconds of silence. “I understand,” you say, nodding. You know that feeling too well, of wanting to take care of someone. It was exactly how you felt with him when he was hurt. You just wanted to look after him and make him feel better as best as you could. You wanted him to be back to full health because you hated seeing him hurting and unwell. “Okay,” you add softly, accepting.

“Good,” Miguel replies, happy and relieved you’re not being stubborn about him staying at the penthouse to look after you. “I’ll stay here, if you need anything - anything at all - please let me know, okay?”

“I will, thank you, Miguel.”

“Always,” Miguel says, a hint of a smile on his face.

You give him a smile and nod, really accepting the fact that Miguel is going to look after you today. You understand where he’s coming from but a part of you feels off. It’s not because of Miguel, of course, but rather because it’s been a long time since someone has looked after you when you get sick. You’ve grown used to taking care of yourself ever since Peter died. Now, Miguel wishes to do so, and a part of you is trying to remember what that feels like - trying to accept that it’s something normal for you to experience, to receive, as well. You sigh softly as you feel drowsiness, thinking it’ll take you a moment to get used to receiving this kind of care after so long. You yawn again, covering your mouth. You already felt fatigued after the doctor’s appointment, and now the food and medicines seem to be taking effect, adding to it. “I’ll go upstairs and rest a bit,” you tell Miguel, your voice showing signs of sleepiness.

“You need all the rest you can get,” Miguel says nodding. “I’ll be here, go on and take a nap.”

You finally stand up and give him a nod, thanking him for breakfast before you head upstairs to your room. You quickly find yourself in bed, under the sheets. Snuggling into the pillows and covers, you can definitely feel the medicines kicking in.

Your eyes flutter and you feel yourself slowly falling into a slumber when you hear footsteps - Miguel’s footsteps. You raise your head to see just as he walks in.

“Shh, rest. Duerme [sleep],” he says softly, carrying a blanket.

You lay back down as he comes to a halt next to the bed, your brain trying to process what he’s up to. He gently throws the blanket over you, tucking it in around your feet and legs. The rest, he carefully pulls up your body, just below your shoulders.

“There,” Miguel says quietly, watching your sleepy face, one he’s memorized by now but still beholds with keenness.

You hum softly, half-asleep and half-awake, his scent reaching your drowsy senses. “It smells like you,” you say sleepily, a soft smile grazing your lips, content and comforted by Miguel’s warm and cozy scent.

Miguel grins softly, gazing down at you. He can’t deny that he’s equally surprised and delighted by the fact that you even recognize his scent on the blanket. “Sometimes I sleep with it, so I guess it makes sense it smells like me,” he shares, his fingers still holding on to the edge of the blanket.

“I like it,” you say before you blindly reach for the blanket, your fingers curling around warmness before you tug it towards your face, wanting the scent closer.

Miguel’s brows raise in surprise when he feels your fingers wrap around his, tugging them, and the blanket, closer to you. “You like it?” he repeats gently, something in his chest stirring as he keeps gazing at you, slowly drifting off.

You nod sleepily. “I love it,” you whisper with a soft sigh, still holding on to Miguel’s fingers and the blanket before you let go, unaware that you were even holding them or of what you’ve admitted in your sleepy state.

Miguel exhales softly when you release his fingers, feeling the loss of touch immediately. Your words echo in his mind. You love his scent. A few seconds later, Miguel notices that you’ve surrendered to sleep, the sound of your even breathing reaches his ears in the quietness of your bedroom. “I’m happy you… love it,” he whispers back even though you’re asleep now. He lets go of the blanket, his knuckles brushing under your chin softly, tenderly, before he takes your chin between his thumb and index finger for about four seconds, the gesture so instinctive - so right - Miguel doesn’t realize nor questions it in the moment.

He lets go and steps back, watching for a few minutes as you sleep, listening to your soft breathing. He tells himself it’s time to step out of the bedroom and let you rest, so he does. He leaves your door halfway open and returns downstairs to the kitchen to clean up after breakfast.

Once he’s done, he works from home, checking on a few things that he can do from the penthouse to help the team but unlike previous years, Miguel doesn’t drown himself in work. He doesn’t feel the need nor want to check everything, to ensure that everyone is doing what they’re supposed to.

His focus is you, everything else is secondary.

He checks on you every thirty minutes to make sure you’re okay and resting well. Each time, he checks you to make sure the fever has gone down, pressing the back of his hand to your face, keeping track of how warm your face feels. He also fixes the blanket around you when he notices it’s shifted in your sleep, wanting you to feel the most comfort possible. Miguel watches your face, his eyes searching for any sign of discomfort in your sleep before he exits the bedroom, his steps deliberately gentle to avoid disturbing you each time he’s in the bedroom.

On the two-hour mark, Miguel is pleased when he touches your face once again and finds a normal warmth, no longer burning hot.

“Normal,” he whispers to himself with a relieved smile.

Despite your fever going down, Miguel continues to check on you throughout the day. He cooks lunch and gently wakes you up at midday so you’ll eat and take your medicine again, making sure you hydrate yourself, too.

After lunch with some food and medicine in your system, you decide to stick around in the living room, not wanting to be in bed all day despite Miguel’s gentle comment about you resting more comfortably on a bed rather than the couch.

You fight off sleep as much as you can but you eventually doze off once again after replying to the spider gang chat, who sent you messages stating they hope you feel better soon, even asking if they can send you something.

Upon seeing you fall asleep again, Miguel brings his blanket downstairs and once again, covers you with it before settling on the couch, across from you, to keep watch.

He continues to work from a tablet, spending some time reading about mission updates and replying to questions from spider members, though he still doesn’t spend much time with work related tasks. He reads for a while, too, but even that doesn’t hold his attention. His eyes find their way to you more than he realizes, as if he finds the sight of you much more intriguing than any word in his book.

At some point, Miguel gets up to make dinner while you sleep and as always, he moves around the kitchen with ease. He’s a man that knows his way around such space, the kind that makes cooking look easy as he gathers everything he needs on one counter from the fridge and pantry. He has two goals in mind with the meal he’s cooking for dinner. One, to give you some comfort and make you feel better.

And two, to please you with his food. For months, he’s found happiness seeing that look you always get of pure delight when you take a bite of the food he makes. It used to be twice a month with the weekend dinners at each other’s place but ever since you moved in, temporarily, Miguel has the opportunity to cook more often for the two of you.

He always looks forward to it, wondering what your thoughts will be when he cooks something he hasn’t before. Either way, whether it’s something new or something he’s cooked before, Miguel always cooks with love.

He peels and dices vegetables, each one with precision. He washes the rice and keeps an eye on it to make sure it doesn’t burn once he pours it on a pan before applying some oil. Despite his concentration with the food, Miguel takes a few seconds to check on you, finding you still passed out on the couch, the TV playing quietly in the background.

Some time later, you wake up. You blink the sleep away and sit up slowly, feeling disoriented for a few seconds before you realize you’re in the living room. You breathe in, only to find your nose stuffy, which immediately dampens your mood. You sigh and look for Miguel, finding his usual seat empty. His tablet is on the spot next to his seat along with the TV’s remote, left alone. Glancing around, you hear subtle noise from the kitchen, giving you an idea of where Miguel is. You look down at yourself, finding his blanket over you once again before you tug it close to your face. It’s so soft and you can smell just a bit of his scent on it, unable to truly smell it due to your stuffy nose. Despite thinking about Miguel’s scent, you don’t remember your confession from earlier.

You stand up from the couch and stretch at last. This has to be the most you’ve slept in a while during the day but you feel rested. You follow the scent of food to the kitchen where you find Miguel stirring a spoon in a medium size pot. He’s still in his sweatpants and t-shirt, gizmo on his wrist. He turns suddenly, as if sensing you.

“You’re awake,” he says softly, a smile immediately forming on his face, happy to see you up. “How do you feel?” Miguel asks walking around the counter to meet you, he pats the chair you always sit on, silently gesturing for you to take a seat.

“Better. I can still feel a light ache in my throat but it’s not as bad as it was this morning. It’s doable,” you reply as you move to the chair, Miguel pulling it out for you.

“Is your nose stuffy?” he asks, with a slightly raised eyebrow, making note of how your voice sounds now.

“And my nose is stuffy, yes,” you reply with a sigh.

“Hopefully dinner will help with the discomfort of your throat. It might help a bit with the stuffiness, too. I have something that’ll help for sure, if you’re open to it - after dinner,” Miguel says with a frown on his face, wishing you hadn’t grown sick.

“I’ll accept anything if I can breath properly again,” you state, now sitting.

“I feel that,” he replies leaning on the counter, eye level. His body is pretty close, seemingly not worried about catching a cold from you. He observes your face, his gaze landing on your chin. He suddenly remembers what happened earlier, realizing he brushed his knuckles against your skin, and how he then held your chin for a few seconds. He clears his throat. “Let me check the food, so you can go ahead and eat. I hope you like it,” he says softly, pushing himself off the counter. He flexes his hand, the same one he caressed you with earlier, having the sensation on his skin still.

“What did you cook?” you ask softly, sniffling.

Miguel smiles a bit at the sound of you sniffling before he thinks of something. Instead of walking back to the stove, he walks to the laundry room. “Hold on, just a sec.” You watch as he disappears into the laundry room, before he steps out several seconds later, carrying a small box. He approaches you, reaching you in no time, and offers it to you, which you realize is a tissue box. “For your nose,” Miguel says. “So you don’t hurt your skin with something else, like a napkin, if you need to blow your nose.”

You accept the box with a soft smile and thank him.

“Always,” Miguel says with a little nod and gentle smile. “Now, let me get you some food. I feel certain it’s going to make you feel good. My mom made it for Gabriel and I when we got sick sometimes. It’s caldito de pollo [chicken soup] with vegetables,” he says. “I made some rice, too.”

You lean back on the chair.

“That sounds really good. I think I’m actually hungry.”

“You think?” Miguel asks, amused as he grabs some bowls.

“Okay, I am hungry,” you say, fixing it. You give him a soft smile. “I think I’m still drowsy from the medicine.”

“That’s to be expected. The dosage on one of them is pretty high. If I remember correctly, it’s the same one you have to do double the dosage for bedtime,” Miguel replies as he recalls the instructions. “But maybe you’re also sleepy from hunger. I noticed you didn’t eat much for lunch. You haven’t had much fluids either.” Remembering that, Miguel stirs the pot before he gets you a glass with water. He takes it to you and of course, you catch the message.

Hydrate.

You oblige and drink, making Miguel satisfied. He turns back around and fixes a plate with food for you.

“So Gabriel and you used to eat this sometimes when you were sick?”

“Yes, we always loved eating this. It gave some relief to our sore throats. And well, we both enjoyed it overall, so it was also a comfort food.”

You nod, thinking about a young Miguel and Gabriel, sick and eating caldito de pollo as children. The image painted in your head brings a smile to your face.

Miguel finishes fixing you a plate and his own, so he brings both to the counter, placing yours in front of you with delicacy. He’s quick to get utensils and napkins along with some warm corn tortillas, and refilling your glass with water before he sits next to you.

“Eat,” he says gazing at you. “It’ll help you recover sooner.”

You nod with a small smile before you begin eating, the warmth of the liquid soothing your throat immediately. It’s like easing an itch. You sigh softly in content before you eat more, the flavors hitting you all at once in the most delightful way possible thanks to the rice and vegetables.

“That feels and tastes amazing,” you mumble as you bring another spoonful to your mouth.

Miguel smiles, feeling pleased with himself. You didn’t eat much during lunch but now, he’s hopeful you’ll eat the serving he gave you and that you’ll feel much more nourished.

“Tortilla?” Miguel offers as he grabs one from the tortillero [container used to keep tortillas warm]. “Gabriel and I used to roll it like this before dipping it in the caldo [broth], and then ate it.” Miguel demonstrates as he lays the tortilla flat on his palm, looking smaller than it actually is against his large hand before he rolls it outwardly. The tortilla is now a thin roll. He dips it in his caldo before taking a bite from it, clearly enjoying it.

You grab one yourself, craving it. “I’m very familiar with that,” you say with a little smile as you do the same, dipping it into the warm liquid. “Childhood memories,” you say before taking a bite.

Miguel smiles once more at the sight, watching you eagerly eat. There’s definitely a difference now. You’ve got more of an appetite than you did earlier and your tone sounds less tired.

“Did I miss out on something today? Missions?” you ask, looking at Miguel.

Surprisingly, the man that once used to bury himself in work with data reports on anomalies and missions, the fate of the multiverse, playfully rolls his eyes. “No work talk on a sick day. You worry about resting, and that’s all… but I will say, the spiderlings went on a mission today and their team flow was amazing, well planned out,” Miguel says, a hint of admiration and pride in his voice, like that of a proud mentor, or parent.

You smile. “They’ve grown and learned, so much. Sometimes I forget they’re growing up, but it’s happening.” You look down at your plate. Time is passing, whether you realize it or not. The years have gone by, and maybe it was the loss and grief, but when you lost Peter, it never occurred to you that the years would go by so quickly after his death. You almost feel that a part of you doubted you’d even make it this far without him by your side, but you did.

You have.

Despite the tearful days and nights you spent alone grieving, you made it. You silently hope you’ve made Peter proud, wherever he’s now.

“I forget, too,” Miguel says after a few moments, thinking. “It’s strange. They’re still these kids but much more mature, more experienced in their roles than when I first met them. I’m - proud of them.”

“I am, too,” you reply softly, putting your thoughts on Peter to rest. “Though sometimes…”

Miguel chuckles. “Sometimes they say the craziest things, and it reminds you they’re still kids.”

“Right? They keep us on our toes, for sure,” you say chuckling, feeling a sudden discomfort in your stomach, a cramp. The sudden shot of discomfort reminds you that you’ll be having your period soon.

“Trust me, I know,” Miguel replies, still smiling and talking about the spiderlings.

You both chuckle at that and keep eating, with you deciding to ignore the thought of your period. You ask Miguel what he’s been up to all day and he tells you about it, how he’s worked on some things regarding the society, read, and other miscellaneous things. Of course, he mentions checking up on you, accidentally informing you of how often he did it. You find the fact endearing, that he checked on you every thirty minutes.

Eventually, you both finish eating. You feel better than you have all day, so much that you feel like taking a shower. You offer to help Miguel clean up but of course, he politely declines, telling you to go and rest, and then to go shower once you mention wanting to do that.

After your shower, you come back downstairs, planning to just hang out in the living room. After sleeping for the majority of the day, you don’t feel like being in bed any more. You find Miguel fixing something in his bookcase before he turns, glad to see you again. He takes in your appearance and sees you seem to feel better. You sniffle as you approach the couch, which reminds him about the thing he said he’d give you for your stuffy nose, but before he heads to get it, he notices your little pout when you look at the couch.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, walking over to you, standing just a few inches away.

You look up, surprised he noticed you pouting over the fact that his blanket is gone from where you left it. “I… Nothing,” you say softly, causing Miguel’s head to tilt to the side, thinking. It takes him a few seconds before he realizes. The blanket, which he threw in the wash along with yours from earlier.

“Go ahead and lie down, rest. I’ll be right back,” he says gently, itching to place his hand on your shoulder and give you a soft squeeze to reassure you, to comfort you. Once he sees you lay down, he heads upstairs, a plan in action.

He collects what he needs and heads back downstairs, walking through the living room before you even notice him entering the kitchen and dining area of the penthouse. Silently, you wonder what he’s up to. You try to into the kitchen from the couch, curious. He appears a few seconds later, your face softening at the sight.

There’s Miguel, a 6’9” tall man, walking towards you with a blanket draped over his shoulder and on the other one, what seems to be a sweatshirt. On his hand, there’s a saucer plate with a cup on top, steam rising from it. And in the other, a familiar small blue and green tub. He walks towards you, with purpose, a man on a mission.

He reaches you in no time with his long strides and begins to work, placing the saucer and cup on the coffee table, along with the small container before turning to you.

“Miguel?” you say, gazing up at him from the couch.

“Yes?” he responds as he unfolds the blanket.

You don’t even know what to say as he spreads the blanket over your body. You simply gaze at him with wide eyes and awe as you watch him towering over you while he tucks the blanket around your feet and legs once more, leaving it loose above your knees and pulling it up to your tummy.

The sight stirs something in you, something stronger than endearment and appreciation that grows stronger as Miguel carries on with his pampering.

“Is your nose still stuffy?” he asks and for a moment, you don’t even comprehend his question, still awestruck.

“Ye-yes,” you stutter softly, sniffling once more.

Miguel nods and grabs the small blue and green container from the coffee table before he gets down on his knees, next to you. He’s now more eye level with you, though he still towers over you easily. He opens the tub, a familiar scent hitting his nostrils right away.

“Put some on your chest and rub it in gently,” he instructs softly.

You nod and pick some up from the tub once he holds it out to you. You slip your hand under your top and do as he said, pushing past your undergarment to apply it properly. Once done, Miguel nods.

“Good. It also helps putting some on your back,” he says gently, still holding it out for you.

You nod, knowing that, too. You pick up more and lean forward, reaching behind you and under your top once more. You apply the product as best as possible, it being a bit of a struggle with your undergarment, which Miguel notices.

He looks down at the tub and then back up at you. “Do you need help?” he asks quietly, making you pause.

Shaking your head, you reply. “Thank you but it’s alright, I got it.” You lie. You’re struggling but you’re not about to accept Miguel’s help with something so… Personal. Intimate. Especially when it involves Miguel and physical contact.

For a moment, Miguel wonders if you’re simply uncomfortable with the idea of him, as a man, touching you, a woman. He wonders if he’s pushing boundaries just by merely offering.

You stare at him, noticing the look on his face. He’s questioning his offer. You frown and regret your words instantly, thinking that you might have made Miguel feel rejected.

“It involves physical contact,” you say softly. “I don’t want to push your boundaries, Miguel.”

He glances up at you, listening to your words before he nods. He gives you a reassuring smile, feeling relieved. You’re not rejecting his offer, his gesture, for the reasons he was thinking. You’re as always, looking out to respect him and his boundaries.

“Even when you’re sick, nose stuffy and feeling fatigued, you’re still so considerate… so sweet, you know that?” Miguel says staring right into your eyes, without fear or embarrassment from stating those words. “I don’t mind, at all,” he continues as he looks at the container and collects some of the ointment with his fingers. “If you allow me, I’ll help you.”

You smile and facepalm, chuckling. It’s been so long since someone has looked after you like this. The last person was Peter, of course. You used to look after each other when the other got sick, just like Miguel has done for you today. Still smiling, you nod, accepting his help. You remind yourself to accepting the fact that Miguel is looking after you, that this is normal. That friends look after each other.

“Lean forward for me, please,” Miguel says, giving you a smile back.

You do so and lift your top slightly, just enough to let him slip his hand underneath it. “My - I’m wearing my-” you start, trying to tell him you’re wearing an undergarment to support your chest.

“I know,” Miguel says gently. “I could tell you were struggling because of it. Is it okay if I shift it slightly?” he asks carefully before he even makes a move, being a gentleman as always.

“… Yes, that’s alright,” you reply softly.

Miguel nods. “I’m going to slide my hand under your top now,” he says, letting you know what he’s doing as a way to avoid making you uncomfortable, and aware of his actions. As soon as he slips his hand under your shirt, your warmth radiates off your skin, greeting his own.

You stare right ahead, sensing the warmth from his hand even though he hasn’t even touched you yet. You wait as he moves his hand further up.

“I’m going to apply it now,” Miguel says softly, waiting to see your reaction. Once you nod, he nods back. He presses his fingers to your bare flesh, a second later, he begins to rub the ointment onto your soft skin. His fingers move gently but efficiently, making sure he’s applying the product appropriately so it does what it’s supposed to do.

Your eyes move to your lap as you feel Miguel’s fingers on you. They’re warm, but you’re not surprised. The man always seems to be warm, so it’s not unusual. What’s unusual is his actual touch. From pinky hugs to him touching your forehead and now your back, this is a lot of progress on Miguel’s end. It’s a lot for one day and yet, he’s doing it.

Then, there’s your own progress, you suppose. You haven’t had someone look after you in a long time, haven’t had someone touch your bare skin like this. You try to remember the last time someone, Peter, touched your back when you were sick like this. You find that you can’t remember it. It’s been that long.

Miguel rubs his fingers gently over your skin, unable to ignore how soft your skin feels. “I’m going to move your underwear a side. Is that okay?” he asks again, withdrawing his hand to grab more of the ointment.

“Yes, that’s okay,” you reply softly, returning your attention to the moment.

With permission, Miguel slips his hand once again under your top. He shifts the undergarment aside, gently and respectfully, before pressing his fingers to your skin again. With more space now, he moves his fingers more freely, rubbing in the ointment until he feels it’s been applied properly.

Neither of you truly notice that his fingers have gone still against your skin once he’s done. His fingers remain there, pressed to your soft skin, your warmth marrying his.

It’s seconds later that Miguel realizes, leading him to withdraw his hand in a way that would seem hesitant to anyone watching. He exhales softly and collects more ointment, just a little, not as much as before while you both silently miss the touch and warmth from each other, like the moon misses its stars on a starless night sky.

“And then, for the stuffy nose,” Miguel says, gaining your attention. “Just a little right here.” With you facing him, he reaches with his index finger and gently rubs the ointment on your nose. “It’ll help you breathe a little better,” he whispers, staring at your nose to be precise with the application. “There.” He slowly lowers his hand and meets your gaze. You seem surprise, so Miguel gives you a small and sweet smile. “We need to cover these arms,” he says, pointing at them. “The AC has been turning on, you’ll get cold. Here, you can put this on if you’d like.” Miguel tugs at the cloth still draped over his shoulder. A sweatshirt.

Wordlessly, you accept it. You recognize it as his, Miguel’s. Sometimes he wears it around the penthouse in the evening. You remember him wearing it yesterday, which means it’ll smell like him. You put it on, careful not to rub off the ointment from your nose. The sleeves are a bit long for you but you don’t mind, if anything, that makes it feel even more cozy. You sniffle quietly, noticing how warm and soft it is, and despite the ointment’s fragrance on your nose, you still catch Miguel’s scent on it. You smile as you fix it around your waist before Miguel pulls the blanket higher up your body.

“Thank you,” you say softly, gazing at Miguel who is still on his knees next to you.

He’s still smiling, giving you that sweet and gentle smile, even when he reaches behind him. He offers you the saucer plate with the cup.

“I made you a tea, it’s supposed to help with colds,” he says while you accept it. “Be careful not to burn yourself.”

You take a small drink, the flavor settling well with you and rushing soothingly down your throat and chest.

“Thank you, Miguel. That's really soothing and it tastes great.”

Seeing your smile, Miguel continues to smile back. “Me allegra [I’m happy], I'm glad you like it. Are you comfortable?”

You begin to nod but Miguel gets up. “I should get you a pillow. Hold on.”

“Wait, that's not-” you start but Miguel is already up the stairs. A few seconds later, you hear his approaching footsteps.

“Lean forward, please,” he says gently, so you do. Miguel slides the pillow behind you, fixing it so it'll be positioned just right for your head to rest on. “There.” He steps back and looks at you, trying to think if he’s forgetting something, or if there’s anything else he can do to make you feel better and comfortable.

“I… Thank you, Miguel,” you say, looking up at him, holding your tea. You briefly notice that he didn’t bring a pillow from your bedroom, but one of his own since the pillowcase is grey, just like his bedding set.

Miguel smiles softly at you and nods. “Always,” he says softly. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

You nod once more, giving him a smile. “I will, thank you. You’ve done so much… Thank you, truly.”

Miguel crouches, grabbing the ointment container and closing it. “I’m looking out for you, just the way you looked after me,” he says, turning to look at you. “I don’t like seeing you like this, you know. So rest properly, so you’ll be back to your usual self. Please.”

“I will… I am,” you reply, sounding like you’re making him a promise.

“Good, thank you,” he says, as if you’re doing him a great favor by resting and getting better.

“You should rest, too.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you’ve been - looking after me all day. You’re probably tired, too.”

“I’m good,” Miguel reassures you. “Not tired at all. Promise.”

“Alright… will you at least sit down?”

Miguel smirks softly. “That I can do,” he says before he settles on the couch across from you once more. “TV?”

You nod. “Yes, please.”

With a soft smile, Miguel asks what you want to watch before you both decide on something, settling for a movie. You spend the rest of the evening in the living room together, Miguel watching over you like a loyal knight to his queen, both when you’re awake and when you doze off due to the medicines’ effects.

He makes sure you have everything you need and even notices when your face shows signs of discomfort, your hand pressed to your tummy.

“Is your stomach hurting?” Miguel asks, worried that your cold is turning into something else.

Noticing his concern, you ease his worries by telling him the truth. “It’s my period. It’s coming up soon, probably a few days. Or even tomorrow,” you say, trying to remember what day it is. With running into Harry and then your lunch with him, and now sick, you can’t even remember. “It’s cramps. They’re not bad, thankfully.”

Miguel almost scoffs. They’re not “bad” and yet, your face shows clear discomfort. “I can make you another tea - canelita.”

“No, no, it’s alright. I’ll just take some medicine in a bit,” you reassure him before you ask him a question about the movie, distracting him from the topic for the rest of the night, or so you think.

-♥︎-

The next morning you wake up without an alarm. Miguel and you decided last night to take off today again, for your sake, and yet, you’ve waken up just past 7:30 by the need to use the bathroom.

There, you’re met with the lovely (not) news that your period has begun.

“Yay,” you say, grumpily. “Sick and now on my period.”

Fifteen minutes later, you’re back in bed with brushed teeth and different clothes on. You fall asleep again for some time. Only waking up when you hear Miguel’s gentle voice, coaxing you from your sleep.

You blink softly, your gaze finding his warm gaze and sweet face.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers, gazing back at you. He notices you look better today, back to yourself.

“Better,” you reply in a whisper, eyes fluttering for a few seconds to blink the sleep away.

“I’m relieved to hear that,” he says, crouching next to the bed. “How are you feeling… your period?” he asks softly, worried you’re feeling unwell from it. Last night you may have succeeded in changing the topic but not in erasing the worry and thought from Miguel’s mind. It reminded him of the first time he went to your apartment, how unwell you were. You haven’t missed any days at HQ because of your period since then, he knows that. Ever since that time, you’ve added more self-care steps to your period routine but Miguel hasn’t forgotten how unwell you were.

Over the months, he’s silently, and discreetly, made sure you don’t push yourself too much when he guesses you’re on your period. Thankfully, the new things you’ve been doing has helped you a lot, which include drinking canelita ever since he made it for you the first time. Either way, Miguel still tries his best to figure out if you’re pushing yourself too much because he worries about you.

“You don’t have to tell me… I just - you’re okay?” Miguel adds.

“Yes, I- I started today. I’m feeling alright right now. No cramps, or headaches,” you share, feeling comfortable to talk about your period with Miguel.

He seems relieved to hear that. “Good, I’m glad.” He sighs softly. “I bought you medicine either way, if you’re interested.”

You sit up slowly, fixing the covers. His blanket is sprawled over your bed and you’re still wearing the sweatshirt, the one he gave you last night. “You did? When?” you say, shifting slightly and patting the edge of the mattress, offering Miguel a seat.

He stands up and sits, keeping some distance to avoid disrupting how comfortable you look on the bed right now. “After you went to sleep last night, I ordered some. I got it delivered this morning,” he replies. “I figured I could help and offer you another option just in case what you’re taking now is not working. Plus, I remembered that medicine from this universe might be more effective than what you’re taking from your universe.”

“You think so?” you ask, looking hopeful.

Miguel smiles, his gaze softening because of your face. “I think so. Lyla has done some research and comparisons. Medicines are more effective in some universes than others, from prescriptions for colds to menstruation pain, even birth control pills. Apparently this universe is one of them, so this menstruation medicine might be better than yours.” Miguel pulls out a box from his pocket and offers it to you, the package sealed. “So, if you want, try this out. See if it works better. If it does, I can buy it, or if you’d prefer, I can have the infirmary supply it to you, whatever you wish to do. If you’d like to try another prescription in the future, just let me know, too, and we can look for an alternative,” Miguel offers as he watches you look at the box with hope.

“I’m going to give it a try if the need arises, thank you,” you tell him softly, looking up at him with a smile. “If it does, I’ll definitely be asking you or the infirmary to supply it to me. I’ve been trying new ones but they seem to stop being efficient after some time, so I’m hopeful about this one. Thank you so much, Miguel.” You gaze at him happily, feeling hopeful about this medicine. You’ve been using a different kind ever since the day Miguel showed up to your apartment, realizing the former one only seemed to make you drowsy and since then, you’ve been trying out new ones, hoping to find something more stable. You have hope this new medication will help after what Miguel said.

“Always,” Miguel replies, returning the smile. “Just let me know what you want to do, okay? I’ll happily do either. Do you want breakfast yet?”

You place the medication on the nightstand, considering Miguel’s question for a few seconds before realizing your stomach feels empty. It’s as if the moment he brought up food, your body recognizes it’s hungry.

“I myself, do,” Miguel says. “My stomach feels empty. I didn’t eat anything else after the chicken soup.” He pats his stomach, a bit of a frown on his face. “And neither did you,” he adds.

You chuckle. “So does mine, so I could definitely go for breakfast,” you reply. “What are we making?”

“I’m making something I’m certain you’ll like.”

You grin, hearing him emphasize that it’s him that’ll be doing the cooking. “Alright, alright. I’ll just…”

“Sit on the counter and give me cooking advice,” Miguel says, remembering the first time you cooked for him here at the penthouse when he was injured in the spring. He wanted to help you make food but you declined and told him he could offer conversation and advice, but no physical help considering his injuries. Despite you being capable to use your arms and the rest of your body, Miguel refuses to let you do any kind of work. He wants you to keep resting so you’ll fully recover soon.

“I see how it is,” you reply, shaking your head slightly in amusement. “But I can do that… I have no choice.”

Miguel smiles and stands up from the bed. “You’re still recovering, so take it easy. I’ll wait for you downstairs, okay? I’m going to start on the coffee.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs in a bit. I’m going to make the bed.”

He nods with a small smile and heads back downstairs, giving you your time to start your morning routine in peace. He’s relieved to see you feeling so much better this morning, even smiling and playing along with him. You’re almost back to your usual self, the way he likes to see you. If he could, Miguel would take away your sickness for himself. Hell, he’d take the period cramps, too, if it meant you wouldn’t experience pain and discomfort.

As Miguel starts on the coffee and waits for you to come downstairs, he wonders to himself for the first time why you got sick. He wonders if it was the rain, or maybe sleeping on the living room floor, even over the rug. Growing up, he was told that such thing can make someone sick among other things, like walking barefoot, or sleeping with wet hair. He was always warned by his Mexican mother about it but he brushed it off, even when he got sick after doing one of those very things he was warned about.

Miguel sighs softly. Maybe it was sleeping on the ground.

Then, he wonders if it was stress from your encounter with Harry Osborn, a thought that brings a frown to Miguel’s face. The encounter with Osborn left you tense and nervous, and he hated seeing you like that. He doesn’t like how Osborn caused you such stress and is now wanting to be back in your life after years of ghosting you when you needed someone after Peter’s death.

Miguel still doesn’t know what your decision on that is. He hasn’t asked, though he won’t deny he’s curious. At the end of the day, it’ll be your decision.

However, that doesn’t mean that Miguel will let go of the grudge he has for the man. Miguel can’t help it, knowing what Osborn did to you. It does more than upset him.

He clears his mind from Osborn when he hears you approaching the kitchen, deciding to not give a moment of his time to the man when you’re here with him. What matters right now, is you, so he carries on with breakfast.

Miguel gives you a cup of coffee and continues to cooks, filling the penthouse with lovely scents of food. You sit at the counter, drinking coffee and talking with him. At some point music starts playing, surprising both Miguel and you.

“Lyla,” he says, remembering. He hardly saw her yesterday since he stayed home and she was busy helping Jess at HQ.

Both of you wait for her to pop up but she doesn’t.

“I guess she’s busy,” you say softly when she doesn’t show up.

Miguel nods with a grin. “Seems like it. I’m sure she’ll make an appearance later today.”

The two of you continue on and have breakfast, with soft music playing in the background. You take your medicine afterwards, which prompts Miguel to ask you to go and lay down. Even when you offer to help clean the kitchen with him, he declines and gently asks you to rest.

So you do. Feeling better than you did the day before, you think about yesterday and everything Miguel did to help you get better, even pushing his own boundaries regarding physical touch. You softly touch the top of your nose, remembering the way he gently applied the ointment yesterday. That leads you to the fact that he applied some on your back, too. That seems surreal but it did happen.

You smile at the thought, thankful for Miguel, who eventually joins you in the living room where you both watch some TV for a while. He’s truly glad to see you in a better mood today, taking notice that you don’t seem as sleepy as yesterday and that your nose isn’t stuffy either. It seems that you’re recovering quickly, which makes Miguel feel relieved. He still feels some worry about your period, though, but he really hopes that the new medication will at least help lessened your symptoms if you experience any.

He watches you for a few seconds after taking a seat, noticing that you’re still wearing his sweatshirt. With looking after you and making sure you have everything you need, he suddenly remembers yesterday, when you told him in your sleepy state that you “like” and then “love” his scent. The thought brings a warmth to his cheeks.

Did you really mean it? Or, was it just words being said in such sleepy state? He almost wants to ask you now but he stops himself, thinking the topic might embarrass you, and maybe, you really didn’t mean them.

He shakes his head at himself, turning to look at the TV instead. You both watch it for a while and spend the morning together. You manage to stay awake all the way up until after lunch time when you excuse yourself to your room, telling Miguel you’re going to take a nap because the medicines prescribed by the doctor at HQ are making you sleepy.

A few hours later, you wake up to your name being called. Miguel is crouched next to you, watching your face for any signs of discomfort. You’ve been sleeping for a few hours and he’s decided to finally wake you up to ask if you’re feeling unwell due to the cold, your period, or both.

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks quietly, trying not to startle you too much with his voice.

You nod and stretch your legs under the covers. “Mhm, I’m okay,” you reply sleepily, making Miguel smile softly. He ends up sitting on the floor, next to your bed, and leans back on the nightstand, his body covering most of it. He stays quiet for a few minutes, looking at the ceiling in silence, thinking about something while waiting for you to fully wake up. Ever since you’ve been sick, he’s had this on his mind but every time he’s about to really think about it, something interrupts his thoughts. He’s wondered about it before but he’s never asked about it. Part of the reason why he hasn’t asked is because the timing was not right. The other part, the main reason, is that Miguel didn’t want to know the answer.

He still doesn’t because if the answer is yes, Miguel knows that it will hurt him. The time has come though. With you being sick and Harry Osborn trying to come back into your life, Miguel finds that this is the best time to ask. Sensing that you’re fully awake now, Miguel decides to ask what’s been on his mind.

“Did you ever - get sick? Before joining the society?” Miguel asks, still staring at the ceiling. “Between Peter’s death and you joining the society?” he continues, quietly, softly.

On your side, facing him, you stare at the wall thinking about his question.

“Yes. I got a few colds here and there but nothing more serious like the flu, thankfully,” you reply a few seconds later after thinking about it, thinking of the few times it happened. “And then a few times because of my period.”

Miguel nods, gulping softly. He turns to face you, remembering when he went to your apartment the first time ever because you were unwell due to your menstruation. You were all alone in pain and discomfort. That was one time alone - one month in many years of solitude. He silently wonders for how many of them did you experience a similar situation? How many times did you lay alone on your bed in an empty apartment while the rest of the world went on about its day?

How many times did you lay half-unconscious, half-awake squirming in pain and clutching your stomach?

It kills Miguel to think about it.

“Hey,” you whisper softly, catching his attention. For several seconds, his eyes have a distant and pained look in them. “What’s wrong?”

“I”m sorry,” he whispers back, blinking and coming back to the present - to you.

“For what?”

Miguel sighs and looks away, leaning his head back. Eyes closed, he wonders if he should tell you.

“Miguel?” you whisper. “What is it? You look upset.”

Miguel’s head snaps back to face you, eyes open. “Not with you.” He shakes his head, making it clear he’s not upset because of you or at you. “Never with you, I’m sorry. I just - you being sick - I’ve thought about it before and now that I’m here to see it, it’s brought back thoughts - questions,” Miguel says in a whisper, eyes meeting yours.

“Questions… About what?” You prop yourself up with one arm, wondering what’s going on inside Miguel’s mind. Whatever it is, is bothering him deeply. You wonder if it has to do with his question about you being sick in the past while alone.

“It hurts me,” Miguel admits softly.

“What hurts?” you ask, brows knitted, concerned.

“To think about you, alone for so long all those years. Especially when I think about you feeling sick, with no one to care for you - to make sure you ate, someone to ease your discomfort. To think that you were on your own,” he whispers.

You inhale deeply, your heart’s strings pulled by how bothered Miguel is by this. It feels as if Miguel really is in pain.

“Don’t think about that, Miguel,” you tell him softly. “It’s in the past now. Those days are over.”

“But you shouldn’t have been alone. Someone should’ve been there with you.”

“It was my fault. I pushed everyone away after Peter died.”

“No,” Miguel says, shaking his head. His tone is somewhat stern. “None of your friends should’ve ever accepted you parting from them. They should’ve kept reaching out. Kept showing up to look for you - to make sure you were okay. You had just lost Peter - you shouldn’t have been alone,” Miguel insists, his voice gentle. “Harry… He should’ve been there for you, especially.”

Surprise rushes to you. You weren’t expecting Miguel to talk about this, for this to be what’s been bothering him so deeply, as if it pains him in a physical way. “I was going to cut ties with him, too,” you reply, trying to lessen his hurt by stating a truth. “I was planning on it.”

“Planning,” Miguel states. “But you didn’t. Maybe you would’ve gone through with it but you didn’t actually do it because he disappeared before you could. He just - left you,” he says softly, shaking his head in disbelief. Ever since he learned about Harry Osborn and the fact that he abandoned you right after Peter’s funeral, it’s been impossible for Miguel to not hold a grudge against him but now, knowing that there were times when you were sick and alone, it only makes that grudge grow. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry you were alone all those years, with no one to look after you.”

“You have no reason to apologize. You didn’t do anything,” you reply gently, wishing that you could lay a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“No one deserves to be alone,” Miguel says.

You slowly sit up when he says that. “No, no one does. Including you,” you say softly, remembering the time Miguel told you he used to think he was meant to be alone, to live a lonely life.

Miguel’s gaze softens. He nods. “Including me.”

Smiling, you pull the covers higher as Miguel watches you. He returns the smile, feeling some calmness despite his negative emotions about this topic.

“I’m sorry if I’m… Overstepping.”

“You’re not,” you respond, gently.

He gives you a nod. “I just - I hate thinking about it. I wish…” Miguel trails off. “I wish you hadn’t been alone for so many years. If I,” Miguel pauses. “If I was there… I would’ve never left you alone. I would’ve gone to your place, every day, and knocked on your door until you opened up.”

You smile softly, your eyes slowly filling up with tears because of Miguel’s words. You blink them away, trying not to cry in front of him. With a sigh, you nod.

“I have no doubt you would’ve,” you tell him, believing this in your heart.

Miguel smiles, his own eyes glistening while thinking about the past. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he says, sincerely.

You shake your head, sniffling a bit. “Don’t be, Miguel. In the past, I’ve wished I had been here sooner, that I could’ve been here for you when you needed someone, too. Even if you pushed me away, I would’ve kept trying, the same way I did when I first started organizing the lab for you. Knowing what I know now about your life, I’ve wished for that many times. Too many,” you admit. “But you know what? I’m just thankful we’re in each other’s lives now. I wish it had been sooner but the fact that we’re even here now, that makes feel so grateful.”

You sniffle softly, thinking about your past.

“Those years I spent on my own… They’re in the past. Behind me. And although there were many lonely days and nights - days that I can’t even remember anymore because they all blended into one - it makes me appreciate the now so much more. I’m thankful for our friends, the spider gang. This,” you say gesturing to Miguel and yourself. “I’m so - so thankful for it. For all of it. For you,” you answer softly, smiling sweetly at Miguel despite your eyes threatening to spill your tears.

Miguel smiles again and leans forward. He reaches with his hand, placing it on top of the bed. He offers his pinky finger, which you notice immediately. You smile warmly at the offer and take it, wrapping your own pinky around his. Gently, you give it a squeeze, one Miguel returns.

His feelings of hurt regarding this conversation have calmed more. A part of him will always wish he had met you earlier, that he had found you sooner so you could’ve been in his life earlier, but your words and smile - your sweetness - replaces his hurt with pure ternura [endearment], so much the next words simply spilled from his mouth like stardust.

“I’m grateful for you, too, dulzura [sweetness],” Miguel whispers, still smiling. “I have been, for a long time now.”

You stare at each other, smiling, your chests stirring with affection, appreciation, and love. For several minutes, you simply enjoy the moment of such vulnerability with Miguel, calming each other.

You think about the little nickname Miguel gave you. Despite all the feelings you’re experiencing right now, that doesn’t mean you missed that part. You chuckle, still holding his pinky finger.

“Does this mean I can call you ‘Miggle?’” you ask.

Miguel rolls his eyes, playfully, of course. “Only when we’re alone. The spider gang would have a field day with that nickname. Peter B. especially,” he says gently.

You snort softly. “Fair enough.”

Miguel stares at your joined pinky fingers. “You may call me something else.”

Humming softly, you give Miguel’s pinky finger a hug with your own, smiling. “I’m going to think about it, then.”

“I look forward to hearing your ideas,” Miguel replies, amused.

You stare at the wall, beginning to think of a nickname you’d like to give Miguel.

Mig.

Migs.

Miggy.

Fangs.

You feel a cramp in your stomach, interrupting your thoughts. With your free hand, you press your stomach slightly, something that catches Miguel’s attention.

“Does your tummy hurt?” he asks, worried.

“Just a cramp,” you reply. “I’m going to take some of the medicine you gave me.”

He nods. “I can get you a heating pad. I have one.”

“I have… the socks with rice.”

Miguel’s brows raise in surprise. “The ones I made you?” he asks. “From back then?”

You nod, looking away, embarrassed. “Uh, yes, they’re quite efficient, so I… Kept them. They’re in the dresser,” you say nodding at them.

He turns to look, still surprised, only to find them laying next to a clean stack of clothes. He didn’t notice them before until now. He nods after a few seconds, gently squeezing your pinky finger. He doesn’t want to let go, even if he doesn’t voice that, but he also wants to look after you.

“How about I make dinner and then you take the medication? I’ll heat up the rice socks for you, if that’s what you want to use.”

You nod after a few seconds. “I like that plan, but I can help-”

“By resting,” Miguel finishes, somehow standing up without letting go of your pinky finger. “I got it. You rest, alright?”

“Alright,” you say with a sigh, still not used to someone looking after you like this after so long.

“Good. I’ll cook and you can rest. I’ll tell you when dinner is ready.” Miguel stares at your joined fingers once again. He frowns for a second before squeezing your finger one last time for today.

You understand, so you squeeze back before letting go. “I’m going to take a shower while you cook. A hot shower always helps me.”

He nods, smiling softly. “If that helps, then go ahead and take your time. We have unlimited hot water.”

“Trust me, I know,” you say standing up at last from the bed. “I’ve become quite spoiled with the shower here, I feel like I forgot what my shower even looks like.”

Miguel chuckles despite the fact that he remembers that soon you’ll be returning to your universe. Your building will be livable once again and you’ll be gone. He fights the urge to tell you that you can come use the shower whenever you wish to. That you can use all the hot water.

That you can stay here longer, even if your building is ready.

But Miguel doesn’t.

“It hasn’t been that long, has it?” he asks, personally feeling that it hasn’t. Weeks have gone by, but for Miguel, it feels like you moved in just yesterday. “You just got here.”

You laugh softly as you grab something you’ll need for your shower. “It feels like that sometimes, doesn’t it?”

Miguel nods. Always. “Yes, sometimes,” he replies instead, looking away from you and around the bedroom. It looks so homey, so cozy. So you. He wishes the bedroom would look like this for longer. He sighs quietly, shaking his head as you gather what you need. He needs to let it go. He clears his throat. “I’ll be downstairs in the kitchen, alright? Take your time with the shower, no rush.”

You nod with a smile. “Alright. I’ll be downstairs shortly.”

Miguel gives you a little nod and smile, wondering what you’d think about his thoughts. If only he voiced them. He finally steps out of the bedroom and leaves you to get ready for your shower, pushing his thoughts aside and focusing on cooking dinner and making you feel better, even though his mind is whirling with thoughts about you moving back to your universe, about your expressed gratitude for him, his nickname for you, which slipped from his mouth without a thought, and of your joined pinkies.

Two hours later, you lay on the couch. You’re in clean pajamas, wrapped up in Miguel’s blanket. You’re still wearing his sweatshirt, something that pleases Miguel for some reason. The socks with rice are under your clothes, pressed to your tummy. As soon as you came downstairs after your shower, he heated them up for you since he remembered to get them while you were showering.

You also took your medication for your cold and the new medicine Miguel got you for your period, which seems to have helped with the cramping.

And of course, Miguel made canelita for you. Your empty cup is now on the coffee table thanks to Miguel, who noticed you falling asleep still holding on to it.

As you sleep, Miguel sits across from you. The TV is on since you both decided to watch the telenovela again but you fell asleep halfway through it, which is no surprise to him due to the medication, and the fact that you got hit with a cold and your period at once. Definitely too much in a few days.

Miguel sighs softly. At least you’re feeling better. The worse of the cold is over now, at least it seems so, and you have new medicine for your period, so hopefully it’ll be better this month.

“She’s sleeping?”

Miguel blinks in surprise, finding Lyla over you. “Yes,” he says softly.

Lyla nods, watching you. “She always looks very peaceful in her sleep.”

Miguel raises an eyebrow but nods. “She does.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Miguel replies.

“I’m surprised you’re awake.”

“Why?”

Lyla snorts and disappears for a second before appearing over the coffee table. “You fall asleep on the couch sometimes, especially recently.”

“Okay, and?”

“I’m just saying.”

Miguel rolls his eyes, not annoyed but just wondering why Lyla is even bringing that up. “How are things at HQ?” he asks.

“Good. Everything is running just fine. Don’t worry.” Lyla stares off to the side, arms crossed over her chest now. “I learned about a theory the other day.”

“What’s the theory?” he asks.

“Humans sleep better when people they love are around. Sometimes even small things that remind the human of their loved ones help, like the sight of their jewelry, or the smell of their perfume…”

Miguel hums. “That’s interesting. What piqued your interest in that?”

Lyla shrugs. “Nothing, just came across the article. Interesting stuff,” she says looking at Miguel and then at your sleeping form. “Well, I’m glad to see she’s doing well.”

“She is. She was better today. I’m sure the worst is over now,” Miguel says, his tone one of relief.

“I’m glad,” she says, turning to face Miguel again. “Well… I’m going back to HQ. I have some stuff to do.”

Miguel turns to her, nodding. “Okay, that’s alright. Thank you.”

Lyla smiles and nods. “You got it, boss. Take care of Y/N.”

“I will,” he says before Lyla gives him a peace sign and disappears.

He turns to look at you, finding your sleeping face. You truly do look so peaceful when you sleep.

“Always.”

A/N: MIGUEL GAVE US A NICKNAME!!!!! Sorry for screaming but - it was necessary!! You guys... Miguel... 🥺😭 HE WAS SO SWEET AND TENDER AND JSJIDJ why is he not real??? I want to marry him. AND WHEN HE TOUCHED OUR CHIN ??? AND APPLIED VAPORUB ON OUR BACKS AND NOSE????!!!! (Not me screaming about my own fic) Miguel really said f them physical contact boundaries today 😌 for real!!

I really hope you guys enjoyed this update!! Thank you for the support as always, guys 🥺 it really does mean a lot to me!! THANK YOU!!!!

-Alondra ❤️

Also, this was Miguel fr but with a smile and tenderness because it's reader obviously:

taglist: (text block limit sucks) @loverlorn @saturnknows @d1lf-loverrr @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @freehentai @arithestrawberry @scaleniusrm @haradasaya @spidermanismyfav @bitchykittenconnoisseur @thecraziestcrayon @obi-mom-kenobi @natsury-kazuki @coraline750 @edgycatx @safixiovi @sunnyx07 @nxrdamp

@rorel1a @oceanstar19 @happishark @carmilla01 @somebodyelsethanyouthink @adora-but-ginger @angie2274 @vampi-amora @tired-writer04 @plzfeedmebread @shadow-pancake9 @tynakub @faretheeoscar @giulscomix @luvstuffies @coffeeauthorvibing @lauraolar14 @bl0osclues @pinkiemme @lil-cinn @mashiromochi @loveletterfrommwah @muzansucker @theleftkittycollection @kikookii @www-interludeshadow-com @holographicang3l @aisyakirmann @bucky-to-my-barnes @geraskier-thots @l3laze @yujyujj @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @damhanallagorm @heyohalie @kaliuea @moonsua1 @darksidescorner @geminis93 @1800-get-alife @hrrtkreuz @oharasfilipinawife @dropyoursocksandgrabyourcrocss @may4ri @t4naiis @f1-hoff @llumetrii

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Pleaseeeee I crave Jimmy x Curly's wife!reader let that envious bastard take what he believes he rightfully deserves, maybe even right in front of Curly as some kind of fucked up power play :)

WARNING: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT/RAPE/JIMMY BEING A MONSTER.

Please read at your own discretion,i might've went overboard,but this was my first attempt.

ever since the day that he laid his eyes upon you,he knew that he just had to make you his,no questions asked.

on that fateful day,when Curly decided to introduce you to his bestfriend,you immediately picked up an odd vibe from him...you didn't like how intensely he maintained eye contact with you whenever you were talking.. nothing wrong with being attentive,but it just felt as though he was staring right into your soul with those piercing brown eyes of his.

you didn't like how it started off as little thing,just the slight touch of hand,which you ruled off as accidents,because he was quick to apologise.

but then,the incessant attention started...it started off small...minor things,such as following you on every social media platform that you had. him being the first person to like all of your posts, commenting innocent little things...you still decided to think nothing of it as you thought that jimmy was simply just some guy without a social filter.

Oh how fucking wrong you were.

It didn't make sense how he wanted to move into you and your boyfriend's apartment because he got kicked out of his,it didn't make sense how curly...just let him...

You tried your best to explain to your innocent boyfriend that you didn't like this sudden turn of events,and the lack of privacy,since jimmy practically didn't let you have any alone time with curly. It's almost as if he just didn't know when to stop lurking.

Despite all,you still decided to trust your boyfriend's judgement.

Then,it finally happened. You awoke one night to sudden movements in your bedroom,you tossed to the side to find the bed empty...your boyfriend was missing, groggily you reached for your phone on the nightstand next to your bed, twitching your eyes you turned your phone on,with the silent humming of the AC in the background,accompanied by the sound of you breathing.

2:47 AM

Curly Bear 🐻❤️ : babe,sorry I didn't wanted to wake you....y'know how pretty you look when you sleep haha, didn't wanted to ruin it. The company called,they said there was some urgent paperwork that needed to be dealt with at the earliest. I had no choice sweet pea, don't worry I'll be back in no time. Love you.

You smiled at your phone,you were about to doze right off when you realised something......something felt..off. it was almost like a primal instinct kicking in,you felt the classic feeling that they talk about in horror stories ... You felt as if you were being watched. the feeling was so intense that you could practically feel the bile raising against your throat.

You gathered every ounce of courage that you had in you,and turned on your phone's flashlight.

there it was. there he was.

you felt as if you were gonna die.

there was jimmy,standing at the foot of your bed like a goddamn statue.

"Jimmy....?".

you wanted to yell out,but what came out was only a faint whisper.

Then suddenly as if the world had just stopped he pounced onto you like a fucking animal,you attempted to scream,but we was quick to place his hand on your mouth, conveniently stopping any noise from coming out.

'I had been waiting for this for so...so fucking long'.

you could practically see the craze in his eyes,those weren't the eyes of a human being..no no no...those eyes could only be compared to those of a deranged wild beast.

then out of no where,your clothes were suddenly ripped off of you,you could feel the cold air of the room pierce your skin painfully as you struggled to move or even breathe,his hand was also covering your nose. You whined,did everything in your power to stop him from doing what he was going to. But it was already too late.

without a single warning,you felt him push into you so hard, without any protection,no nothing. It hurt so fucking bad,you wanted to scream,to yell,to cry,but you could only just helplessly watch what that man whom your partner considered his 'best friend' was doing to you,he thrusted in and out of you as you were a ragdoll.

Jimmy then temporarily removed his hand from your mouth only to replace it with his own,he roughly smashed his lips onto yours,you could taste cigarettes, liquor and a hint of those mint jellies which he for some reason had a weird obsession with. his tongue travelled every corner of your mouth,while tears flowed through your eyes like a goddamn waterfall.

with his final thrusts,you could feel that he was coming to his peak,and with a final thrust,you felt the inside of your stomach get filled with something warm..you felt fuzzy, almost dumb,your face was covered with drool and your hair all scattered.

with all of it over and one,he suddenly placed a kiss on your forehead,and whispered,

"if you tell curly any of this,I'll make sure to do this in front of him the next time".

and with that he returned to his own room,as if nothing had happened,as if your entire life wasn't just turned upside down. as if he didn't just shatter a person into something they would never recover from.

[tteokdoroki]

"i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me." + rin for the ask game !!! ily aali ❤️

☆༉ — RIN ITOSHI: 0-800-HOT GUY-HOTLINE.

line. ❛ i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me. ❜

extension. fleshlight/sub!rin itoshi, gn!reader + nsfw/mdni 18+.

things to note. sorry this took so long, i got very distracted and psychoanalysed rin for smut… again lol !! enjoy !!

rin has always been bad at communicating.

one could say that his stagnant ability to get his needs across is down to the rocky relationship the pro player has with his eldest and only brother. he finds it difficult to speak his mind and match words to emotions — whenever he tries it’s like someone has stuffed cotton down his throat acting as a blockage that physically prevents him doing the one thing he needs to make the human connections he’s craving. 

except with you. you make things easy. you provide rin with the space to feel his way through experiences without chastising him where he goes wrong or turning your back on him like sae once did. the younger itoshi has learned a lot from you that makes him, in his own way, want to try — want to please you by trying and talking through his thoughts and feelings.

just like you’re doing right now.

“how does it feel for you, baby?” you say with pride, a smile full of both pity and adoration splays across your face — your expression fond. it’s always a surprise to rin, how easily fondness and tenderness come to you when you put him in a position to sin. 

the way you’d gotten rin into this very same and compromising position, his legs spread wide and back pressed against your plush bed, had been too quick for him to comprehend. you’re a picture perfect vision between his milky but toned thighs, the sight of you there makes his cock pulse to life — his pink tip shiny with a layer of precum that dribbles pathetically against his skin. 

he wonders how it’s so easy for you to get him like this, lazily pumping his aching shaft through the squishy sillicon flesh light. when you’d first brought it home, the younger itoshi brother was completely against the idea of using it, but to this day he often finds himself forcing himself to push through his shyness and ask you to use it on him. of course, no amount of lube and ribbed rubber could replace how you feel, but it doesn’t mean rin doesn’t enjoy the way you torture him with the toy.

you press white hot kisses to rin’s pelvis, dragging your tongue along his body in the shape of your  name as if to ink your claim on him and push apart the apex of his thighs to spread the soccer player further. the action has an embarrassing amount of heat flashing through rin, frying his nerve endings and burning away his resolve until he growls down at you impatiently. 

a look of disappointment flashes across your face but disappears just as quickly as it came. his chest tightens. “use your words, baby.” you coach rin through the frustration that lingers in a thick fog across his brain. his bulbous and blistering cockhead peaks through the clear toy and you spit down onto it, using your thumb to rub the frothy mix through his slit with hungry eyes. 

“fuck,” rin breathes shallowly,  cursing from above you. he feels like he’s on fire, melting from the inside out and even you swear that you see red swirling in his aquamarine eyes. his chest rises and falls rapidly, moving so fast that he thinks his heart might burst and you’ve barely touched him. 

leaning down, your lips graze over his tip this time, their plumpness mapping out its sensitive layer of skin. on instinct, rin’s hips buck forward to push his gooey cock against the seam of your lips, coating them a layer of his salty-sweet arousal. “breathe baby,” you remind him in a whisper as rin flinches at the contact. you give the base of the flashlight a squeeze and another gentle grin illuminates over your face, rin fighting back a high pitched and dreamy moan just as his head hits the pillow with a dull thud. “deep breath and try again for me, i know you can do it.”

the soccer player does as you ask, inhaling deeply and filling his lungs with fresh air despite simultaneously fighting back tears. “feels,” he manages through the thick ardour clinging to the ridges of his throat, swallowing down the lump there. rin runs his fingers through the sweaty locks matting to his forehead and tries to gather his thoughts over the sound of his slick dick being jerked to high heavens in your warm hand. “good, really good. hah, i-i’m��“

testing the waters, you kitten lick at rin’s tip every time he languidly fucks it through his special toy. eventually, you take him into the wet cavern of your mouth, allowing his precum to pour against your tongue like an erotic flash flood. “good boy, rin. thank you for telling me,” you say, pulling off of him to catch your breath. “you know i love it when you tell me how you feel.” 

he replies with somewhat of a desperate gargle, throwing an arm over his face as it flushes pink at the praise. “i love you.” he bleats.

“i know, baby. i love you too,” your hand speeds up, mostly coated in heavy and clear strings of rin’s precum and the lube from his flesh light. he looks so fucking pretty like this, shiny with sweat as hot salty liquid slips down the apples of his cheeks. “you always try your hardest for me rin. makes me so proud. makes me wanna look after you. i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.”

taking note of how rin grits his teeth, you fist what you can’t fit, between your fingers, and take a mouthful of him him once more — letting him fuck the soft epithelium on the inside of your cheeks. rin chokes on his wails and whines, feeling a familiar pressure build up in his core the more you sloppily make out with his cock and jerk him off with the soiled flesh light. 

“i-i can’t,” he stutters, barely holding himself together through his sniffling. “i can’t…” 

after crawling over rin’s shaky frame, you pry his hands away from his face — cooing down at his puffy eyes and mussed up hair, not daring to let up on pumping his creamy cock through the flesh light. “yes you can,” you goad attentively, finding his lips — using your teeth to tug his bottom lip away from him before capturing him in a messy, mouth watering kiss. rin whimpers at the taste of himself on you, bitter and slightly sweet, angling his head up to kiss you better. “you can do it baby, i’ve got you.” you purr hotly. 

he laps into your mouth, rolling his tongue over yours in the most eager way you’ve ever seen him, working with you to swallow your pleased moans while you take on his pathetic laments. “‘m gonna…” rin slurs over the saliva that weighs down his tongue and ties to the roof of his open mouth as you palm him harder, faster — the crude mix of his precum, your spit and lube from the flesh light slinging around your knuckles. “f-fuck… gonna cum. ‘m gonna cum!” 

“that’s right, baby, let go for me. cum for me, rin.” you command with a delicate air, your voice low and loving. that’s all it takes for the walls that rin has built up to come tumbling down, reaching his high. he cums hard and with a whiny shout that you coach him through, painting your hand with viscous hot layers of white that spurts from his ravaged, bright red cockhead. “oh wow, you came so much, baby. s’this all for me?” 

“now you’re pushing it.” finally coming down from his orgasm, rin finds himself too weak to push you away despite his  embarrassment — allowing you to pamper and fawn over him like you always do. he doesn’t hate it, nor will he admit how adored you make him feel. “thank you.” he mumbles quietly, warmly.

blinking up to meet his tropical ocean eyes, you cock your head to the side — effectively distracted from cleaning rin up. “for what, honey?” 

“taking care of me,” rin states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. his cheeks burn red. “or whatever.” 

“don’t be silly,” you say, “i’ll always take care of you. my baby.”

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 19

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: welcome to the draaamaaaa! non-consensual drugging (not reader), the vaguest hint of medical trauma, brief mention of chapter 2's assault scene

wc: 2.3k

Chapter Selection

Thirty minutes after Alfred came to pick Damian up, a mandatory city wide lockdown was called into effect. The news mentioned Mr. Freeze and some botched experiment with Poison Ivy's pheromones. I immediately tried to call Jason; he had been planning to come over around dinner, but the lines were busy. It seemed everyone was trying to contact their loved ones.

I texted Damian, asking him to let me know when he was home, and pulled out a roll of duct tape to start sealing up the cracks in my doors and windows. I set out my emergency candles and flashlights. Then I filled pots, pans, and the bathtub with clean water, just in case. And finally, I began cooking a couple steaks I had that needed to be made sooner rather than later, just in case the gas went out before I got another chance. You never knew what a villain-fueled lockdown would bring, so it was best to plan to lose all of your utilities. I vaguely regretted not getting that camping stove when it had been on sale, but I also really didn't love the idea of storing propane in my apartment. 

Once my steaks were done, I checked my phone again. Damian was home safe, and told me in no uncertain terms that I was to remain safely indoors. But there was still nothing from Jason. I frowned, trying not to panic. He was probably just having trouble getting through, just like I had.

Me: Hey baby, lockdown's pretty scary, huh? Hope you're safe! ❤️

5:40pm

I settled in to watch the news, hoping the Bats would get things under control soon enough. The only footage available was from the traffic cameras, but the picture they painted wasn't particularly pretty. It seemed every vigilante was out for this one. I watched in a sort of terrified trance, remembering how tiny Robin was at the gala. But there he was, fighting Mr. Freeze. … He was strong, and a skilled fighter. But God, it just wasn't fair…

Me: Jace? You safe?

6:30pm

Eventually, the fight was over, and the reporter started talking about the plan to get the pheromones neutralized. We were instructed to stay in our homes for the time being while Gotham scientists worked out a solution. I sighed softly, honestly a bit glad for the excuse to not go in to work the next day. The boss had been getting a bit testy with me over not being available anytime, any day anymore, and I didn't want to deal with it.

Me: Hey baby, lockdown's pretty scary, huh? Hope you're safe! ❤️

5:40pm

Me: Jace? You safe?

6:30pm

Me: … Jason? If you're getting these, I'm getting really freaked out. Please tell me you're ok.

8:45pm

I frowned, texting Steph, Tim, and Dick next; ‘I can't get ahold of Jason. Have you seen him today?’ The minutes ticked by, an hour passed and no response came from anyone. I was curled up on the couch, trying desperately not to panic, when a sharp tap tap tap on my porch door startled me out of my panic spiral.

I carefully made my way over to the door, nudging open a spot in the blinds so I could peek out. There, on my porch, was Nightwing. He had some kind of breathing apparatus hooked up to his suit, and what looked like a cyberpunk face mask in his hand. When he saw me looking at him he waved excitedly, holding up the mask.

I frowned a bit; “... Um … hello?”

“Hello, citizen! … Your assistance is needed! I have a mask for you, go ahead and pop the door open for me?”

“... No?!”

“... Please?” He frowned a bit, holding out the mask more insistently.

“... What could you possibly want from me??”

He chuckled a bit awkwardly, shifting his weight between his feet. “... I really don't want to shout through your door for this …”

“Well that's just too damn bad. You can shout, or you can go.”

“... I assume you were watching the news this evening?” I nodded. “Well, one of my … co-workers' breathing filters got damaged, and he's inhaled some of the pheromone blend.”

I frowned deeply. “... I'm sorry? … Will he be ok?”

“We think we can make an antidote, but we need to get him to the Batcave to get a sample of his blood, and he's a bit … overly agitated for that. He won't get in the Batmobile. We have reason to believe you'd be able to help with that.”

I scoffed at that; “how, on god's green earth, am I meant to do that??”

“... I can't answer that. But I think you're the only person who would calm him down right now.”

“... Uh-huh. … Which one of you is it?”

“Red Hood.”

“... Why would I be able to calm Red Hood???”

“... I … can't answer that either. … Please come anyway. … Call it doing your civic duty?”

“Pft! That's not gonna work on me.”

“... How about helping a big, scared kid who doesn't know what's going on right now? He just knows his body is being ripped out of his control again, and he can't stop it, and everything seems like a threat.”

I froze, blinking a bit. Fuck, that sounded bad. “... How are we getting there?”

Nightwing perked up at that. “I've got my bike! Come on, let's-”

“Hold your horses, bird-boy! Let me get changed.” I sighed, shuffling into my bedroom. I pulled on a pair of jeans, my riding jacket, and grabbed my helmet, silently thanking Jason for giving them to me - and begging the universe that he be ok, wherever he was. Before leaving my room, I grabbed the red flannel Red Hood had given me all those months ago. Might as well return it, since I was going to see him again.

I ripped the tape off the door and knocked, getting Nightwing's attention. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and he passed me the mask. I slipped it on quickly; “Thanks. … I'm not going down this way, so I'll meet you in front of the building?”

Nightwing nodded, jumping off my porch, and I went back inside, sealing the door back up before I ran out the front door. I pulled my helmet and gloves on and hopped on the back of Nightwing's bike, sighing softly. “... Can't believe I'm doing this…”

“I can't believe you made me wait for you to change your clothes…”

“When my boyfriend finds out I got on a vigilante’s bike, he's probably going to have an aneurysm. If he found out I did it without proper protective layers on, he'd probably try to kill you. I’m trying to help you here.”

Nightwing chuckled a bit and we took off, flying down the road like a bat out of hell. I couldn't imagine how I was meant to fix this, or even what we would find when we got there, but I had to try. I couldn't imagine the Red Hood being scared of anything, but the way Nightwing spoke about him made him sound so fragile. ‘his body is being ripped out of his control again’??? Again??? What had this guy been through? And how was I supposed to help??

We arrived much faster than I would have expected, and I slid off the bike, looking around. Nightwing took my helmet for me, pointing to the alley. The Batmobile was pulled to the side, and Batman himself stood like a gargoyle by the driver's side. Spoiler was hunched over by a dumpster, murmuring softly. She looked up as I approached, sighing softly. “Thank God. You're up!”

Her voice sounded familiar, even through the breathing mask, but I didn't have time to dwell. I wanted to get home soon; with my luck Jason would finally text me back while I was out here doing this. I stepped closer until I could see him; the Red Hood, on his knees behind the dumpster, clutching at his chest and hissing softly, like an injured cat.

“Um … Mr. Hood?” I crouched, trying not to startle him.

He jumped anyway, looking up at me. His red helmet didn't show any emotion, but as far as I could tell he was focused on me. “... Hi, Mr. Hood. I don't know if you remember, you saved me from a would-be-rapist last March?”

I slowly held the shirt out, but he didn't move. “... I brought your shirt back.”

He continued to stare at me, so I slowly inched closer. When I was finally close enough to touch him he flinched, hiding his helmeted face in his hands. “N- no … no, go … go away … H- how'd you get here? … The lockdown …”

“... I … I can't really do that, Hood. … Nightwing brought me.”

He growled, a broken, choked sound, distorted by his voice modulator. “... You're supposed to be home … supposed to be safe …”

I nodded slowly. “... Yeah, yeah I am. So … do you think you can come out of the alley with me? … There's a lot of people really worried about you out here. They just wanna get you somewhere safe so they can take care of you.”

He shook his head quickly, choking out; “no! No needles! No needles!”

I nodded slowly, gently shushing him. “Ok, no needles. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do. … Let's start with a few deep breaths, yeah? Can we do that?”

He slowly tilted his head toward me, and I moved my hands slowly up from my stomach to my throat as I breathed in, then back down again as I breathed out. I did this several times before he started to follow along, slowly letting his breathing sync up with mine. “There we go, well done. Do you think you can stand?”

He nodded once, slowly rising to stand against the wall. I slowly approached, offering him the shirt again. Gingerly, he reached out to take it, being oddly careful not to let our fingers touch. His gloves were torn open, revealing bloodied knuckles. “Can we go to the car? Looks like you've got some cuts, I bet they have a first aid kit over there.”

He flinched, shaking his head a bit. “They'll heal.”

“... They'd heal best if we cleaned them first. Can we just get some water on them, rinse the dirt out?” I slowly lifted my hands, palms up, offering them to him; “please? … I won't let them do anything you aren't ready for, I promise.”

His body seemed to move on instinct; as our hands touched he froze, whining sharply. “... Fuck … no, … d- don't want to do this … m'sposed to protect you …”

I gently squeezed his hands. “You have protected me. You protected the whole city. You did your job, Hood, and you did it well. Now let me help you. Please?”

He shuddered and collapsed against me, suddenly wrapping his arms around my waist like I was a life raft in the ocean. I grunted softly, stumbling a bit, but managed not to fall over. It briefly crossed my mind just how pissed Jason was going to be when I told him about this; if vigilantes showing up near my work made him grumpy, what was he going to do about one clinging to me like this? But I pushed the thought away, determined to get Red Hood into the Batmobile so they could take him to get treated.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, awkwardly patting his back. “... I've got you. You're gonna be ok. Let's get to the car, ok?”

He let me guide him to the Batmobile, clinging to me the whole way there. I could feel Batman staring us down as I slowly coaxed the giant man into the back seat. He let me rinse his scraped up knuckles with a bottle of water, but wouldn't accept anything else. Before I could leave, he pulled me onto his lap, nuzzling my neck and whining softly. “Ah! … U- uh, Mr. Hood, I do have a boyfriend now…”

He groaned softly, holding me tight and whispering. I only caught the occasional word, the voice modulator garbled the rest; “need ……. So pretty ……. Soft …… mine …. Love …. Fuck, just wanna …….. neeeeed~ ….”

Spoiler wrinkled her nose a bit, shrugging. “... It'll be easiest to get him treated if we just … let him be. …. Think you can sit like that for … 20 minutes?”

I sighed softly. “... I guess?”

I rubbed his shoulder gently, letting him continue to mumble and nuzzle against me. Jason would be pissed, but at least Red Hood wasn't being particularly handsy. He was actually keeping his hands very carefully on my calves or waist, never venturing between the knees and the waistband of my jeans, weirdly respectful for someone drugged out of their mind on Poison Ivy's pheromones, whether those pheromones were corrupted or not. Batman and Spoiler got in the front seats, and we sped away. I saw Nightwing riding behind us as we raced out of the city.

“... Should I be keeping my eyes closed or something?”

Spoiler turned back to face us and laughed a bit. “... Maybe? I guess. And you can take that mask off now. By the time we open the doors we'll be far enough away from the affected area.”

I nodded, sliding the breathing mask off and closing my eyes. Red Hood stroked my back, purring softly. I sighed, patting his shoulder more. I tried not to think too hard about how I was going to explain this to Jason. I'd think of something; something that would keep him from confronting the Red Hood when this was all over.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men

[rs-hawk]

A giant's finger rubbing against his normal sized human partner's genitals <3 taking the extra care to be gentle while working his human's body. /request (if your still taking those that is)

I've been thinking about this one since I got it bc it gave me so many ideas. I've finally settled on this one and I'm so excited to write about a bigger, chubby man just ❤️ ❤️

FtM/Transman Reader

When you first went into the mountains, you never expected to find a giant at the peak. You were shocked when, during a freak storm, you were forced into the caverns that doted the mountains. You were soaking wet, with a plethora of your supplies ruined. Pushing back the hair that was stuck to your face with sweat and rain, you shakily turned on your flashlight. The cavern around you was spacious, and surprisingly clean. For a hole.

After a short expedition into the cave, and seeing nothing, you decide to set up camp just inside the cavern lip. As soon as the rain let up, you wanted to be out again. By the time night fell, you knew you were stuck here for the night, so you made a meal before curling up in your sleeping bag near your now extinguished fire.

In the middle of the night, the floor under you rumbles, shaking you awake. Through the haze of sleep, at first, you think it's an earthquake. Or a cave in. However, when the feeling stopped just outside of your field of vision, you know that it has to be something organic. Something alive.

Your breath felt hard in your chest as you scrambled up to your feet, your eyes narrowed at the darkness of the cavern. After a moment, a giant stepped out, his head tilted slightly as he examined you.

"Hello, little human," he said in a low voice, his dark eyes trailing down your body.

"Hi," your throat felt tight as you looked up at him, your mouth almost watering as you examined him back.

He was gorgeous. His long black hair was twisted into a surprisingly neat bun on the top of his head, with just a few strands escaping to frame his face. His dark eyes are perfectly almond shaped, as if made just for you to get lost in. The sort of vest?-thing?- that he's wearing showed off a soft stomach and chest peppered with spots of black hair.

It took him speaking again for your eyes to snap back up to his face. "Are you lost?" his voice was still low, but not unkind. Almost gravelly. Like a protective growl from a dog, you think.

"The storm drove me in. I was trying to reach the peak," you explained, your face flushing slightly as his eyes remained trained on you. There was no way he didn't see how you were staring at him before.

There was a bit of back and forth as the storm outside raged on. Finally, he offered for you to come stay with him. "Animals will be seeking shelter as well, and you're right where they would want to be," he gruffed as he picked up your backpack.

You nodded, grateful but a little embarrassed. It didn't take nearly as long as you expected to reach a small settlement inside the cave. You didn't see the rest of the giants, as it seemed they were all asleep, but you could tell the homes looked warm. Lived in. Happy, even. You smiled to yourself as he led you to his home.

"You can stay here," he gestured to a large bed, but you couldn't help but notice it seemed to be the only one.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly take your bed. I can sleep on the floor in my sleeping bag," you insisted, reaching for your bag that he was carrying.

"And let my neighbors think I'm a bad host?" he huffed, picking you up in one hand to set you on the pillow. "Sleep, little human."

"I take up almost no room! Why don't I just sleep on the pillow and you can still sleep here?" you called out as he went to exit the room.

He paused for a moment, then nodded. He set your bag down before taking off his vest, letting you get a better view of what looked like such a soft, cuddly body. You wondered how warm he was. His hand had been, but that's not the same thing. He paused before kicking off his shorts. Your mouth was watering again as you saw how large every part of him was, even through the bright red boxers that looked like they had been dyed with berries or wilting flowers, based on the unevenness of it.

He was careful as he got into the bed, not wanting to crush you. It wasn't long until he fell asleep, but you took a little bit longer. You were dreaming of the large giant touching and praising your responses, loving his effect on your tiny body.

"Little human," the giant's low voice roused you from your sleep. "Are you alright? You won't stop squirming."

You flushed slightly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "No, I'm alright. Just having a lot of dreams."

"What are you dreaming of?" he asked, rolling over and opening his bleary eyes to look at you.

You hesitated as you looked away. "I don't remember."

"Ah," he muttered, sleepy reaching out to stroke your cheek with his large finger. "Well, you are safe here. I would never let harm come to a guest in my home."

You giggled sleepily, but the response he had on your body was undeniable. Pressing your legs tightly together, you attempted to ignore it, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of him. However, his eyes narrowed, as if he noticed what that kind of response indicated.

"Little human. Are you...," he trailed off, either embarrassed or unsure. "Do you need help?"

You looked away, your face flushing. When you didn't say anything, he lightly tugged your legs apart, and you let him. Your breathing hitched. A smirk slinked across his face as he noticed. After a moment, you hesitantly undid your jeans, letting him tug them off of you.

Your mind turned to mush as he lightly rubbed his finger against your core, the very tip teasing your t-dick through the thin cloth of your boxers. You moaned loudly, which earned you one of his other fingers being pushed into your mouth. It stretched your mouth slightly as you did your best to suck on the tip.

"What a good boy. You're so wet and hard for me, aren't you?" his voice was so deep and velvety that it send a shiver down your spine.

You noticed his cock was straining in his boxers, but all thoughts quickly left your mind again as he pulled your boxers away. His finger against your bare cunt and t-dick made you feel like you were on the verge of blacking out. All the while, he was murmuring praises about how good you were. How small. How perfect.

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