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honestsycrets · 2 years ago

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playing house | single parent au: mechanic!miguel x teacher!reader

❛ pairing | mechanic!miguel x teacher!reader; single parents au

❛ type | oneshot, explicit

❛ summary | gabi's on a hunt to get a mami. miguel doesn't really need help with it. or, Miguel trades mechanic work for love.

❛ tags | explicit, mechanic!miguel, first grade teacher!reader, some mention of hurt, heavy themes of voyeurism (both ways), single parents, unhygienic sxconditions, Spanish not translated, very domestic fic, f!reader, protective miguel, very light mutual jealousy.

❛ request fulfilled | Miguel is a single dad, Reader is his daughter's kindergarten teacher, and he is both very obviously crushing on her and very reluctant to say it. Fortunately, his daughter isn't! "Did you know my papi likes you?" Cue flustered Miguel. + BROOOO mechanic!miguel is hot please tell

❛ sy's notes | flashback to that one time a car fell on my tio. 😅

The job was a simple part replacement. A fizzled-out chunk of metal that would cost any single mother more in labor and puff costs at any mechanic shop. But not with Miguel, who was known around the barrio for his begrudging care. He’d do any job Lyla brought to him for any madre around who needed him.

He wrung his hands out on his stained top and lifted his head out of the hood of an old but faithful car. After a click and a lock, he turned his eyes toward the dusty cover. Syncopated beats trill from a radio ring background static that he’s long since zoned out to focus on his work. He wiped his forehead and looked at the trampled grass underneath a cheap plastic pool.

“Gabriella, bring me the manguera,” he called out to his little girl, who looked at the hose in her little pool bobbing with poppy bright toys. The older she got, the worse her loneliness became. Not due to any ill-doing of Miguel who always tried his best to be present. For some reason, Miguel couldn’t bring himself to date in anything but short bursts.

“Papi, look across the street. New neighbors!” Gabriella cooed delightfully. She splashed out of the pool with the long emerald green hose in hand, bobbing over on her long skinny legs. “It’s a girl. A pretty girl! And she’s looking right at you!”

Like that was a new occurrence. Miguel turned his hand over his sun-bright daughter’s short, sodden braids that whipped just over her shoulder. She stood in place, bouncing delightfully over newcomers. There were many viejitos in the cul-de-sac, but not enough kids.

“¿Y qué, mi vida?” he asked her. His hand shipped free from her hair. “She’s probably taking in the barrio.”

“I think she is! You!”

He threw a glance over his shoulder only to find your prying eyes eating him up from across the street. You speak to a pair of movers-- but your eyes slipped away from theirs, where he stood with his little girl. The hose dumped water onto the street. Water that he’d usually be extra concerned about wasting. Today, he was more interested in a game.

His dirty white t-shirt is matted to his back, soaked in the sweat of the day. He gripped the bottom of his t-shirt on either side and tugged it over his head. It pulls on his well-corded arms, protesting its release from his body. Miguel slipped it over his shoulder and proceeded to release bits of sweat from his thick hair. An adorable gasp fell free from your lips, replaced by your hand over your lush lips, snapping back to attention.

“You’re right, Gabi.”

He took the sputtering hose from her and cracked a begrudging smile. Gabriella waved eagerly-- and to his surprise, you waved back. If it wasn’t the hot sun beating down your face, it was the embarrassment on your face. You settled the sunglasses on the cute crook of your nose. With that, Gabriella helps him wash the car until her most hated part, drying it with old towels and bits of Miguel’s ripped old shirts.

“Hola!”

“Coño,” Miguel cursed in surprise, turning around to face you. In your hand was a clear plastic bag stuffed full of the filled corn husks, warmth steamed its sides. Miguel glanced down at the bag in your comparatively soft hands, drawing his sweaty shirt over his cut muscles to wipe away the sweat that slicked his dusky skin.

“I brought you and your lindita tamales.”

“Tamales!” Gabriella cooed, her hands cradling a limonada. They made it together, like clockwork every Sunday. “I love tamales!”

“Don’t old neighbors bring new one’s food?” Miguel bit out, a bit annoyed. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate food, it would save him countless bright-ass early meals dragging himself out of bed to make Gabriella something with school right around the corner. He’s annoyed at that star-bright smile you have whipped across your face. It stirred excitement he thought he killed a long time ago. “Or are you just a show-off?”

“I teach first grade at the school across the street,” you ignored his snark and looked none the more bothered by it. There’s some magic in a woman that didn’t feed into his shit. You provided Miguel with a name that felt familiar to all the orientation packets he received just this week. “Ya tú sabes, umm, at Carillo’s.”

Of course.

“That’s where I go!” Gabriella beams. “I’m Gabriella O’Hara and I’m going to be in first grade, right papi? This is my papi. His name is Miguel.”

Damn it all. Miguel slaps his sweaty shirt on the top of the car. You kneel down, offering her up the tamales instead of Miguel. He blinks through his sudden irritation, realizing that he’s fucked now. Gabriella grabs the plastic bag, giggling delightfully over them.

“Then maybe you’ll be in my class, Miss O’Hara.”

When he checks her orientation paperwork-- there it is. He suddenly felt the pressure of the ordeal, of the pretty next-door neighbor who wore flowy dresses and apparently, loved muscles. His eye darted out to the window, the movers zipping off in a whir of color, leaving you just there, spinning around in the driveway of your new home, nearly too sun-bright.

Maybe it’s tied to being a father, but Miguel notices little things you do. Some are ineffectual. Others are dangerous. You leave your bedroom window wide open as you change. Miguel sat outside on Gabriella’s swing on his second cup of coffee for the day when he noticed it for the first time.

You come in from your shower and scurry about your room nearly naked. Then, cupping your breasts between your hands, you whirled around for a set of underwear. From this far, he can’t quite make out the color. It might be red. Not a poppy red, but a deep, soothing red he recognizes from his dead wife’s wardrobe.

He wasn’t sure why you wouldn’t just change in the bathroom, but in any case, it was… dangerous. Any freak walking by could see you changing. Mimi’s room had very well-used blinds and yours did not. He turns his attention back to the newspaper on his lap. Nueva York stalker confesses to stabbing murder in five-year-old cold case. He scrunched his nose at the news and drank a coffee that had long since gone cold.

Sometime later, your front door swung open. Mimi busted through, a little girl with long black twists and black eyes that held a similar excitement for the weekend. It was her papi time. Gabriella doesn’t have that luxury, two homes full of warmth. Just one, with a papi who loved her more than life itself. Miguel hopes it’s enough. He left his newspaper on the bench as you settled her in the car, making his jog across the street.

“You should buy blinds,” Miguel said the second you shut the door. You jumped, your hand on the locket on your chest.

“Ay dios, it’s just you. You shouldn’t walk up on a woman like that, Miguel,” you laughed. “Especially not a single mother.”

“You’re painfully oblivious. Buy some blinds for your room. It isn’t safe.”

Dry as his tone was, it was laced with concern. If there was no one in your life to tell you what he thought was obvious, he would. “You saw me? How much did you... see?”

He responds with a dull stare, his gaze falling to the red strap of your bra that set slightly off-kilter along your slight shoulders. You sucked in a breath to calm yourself, your heart beating at a rapid pace behind your modest shirt. You reached up to hide the strap. A frown marred his contrite features.

“You look beautiful in red,” he found himself muttering, pushing off of the back of the car without another word. He beat himself up for that-- stupid, stupid response. Because of course you know you look gorgeous. He didn’t need to say it out loud.

“Gracias, papi,” you called after him.

He hoped he was not flung into the creep category after that winning display.

You bought blinds for your window and a swing for Mimi’s new, sturdy tree. Its long arms offer some reprieve from the heat, casting a shadow on the small house. It wasn't long before you spent days on heaps of homework from the kids and a glitter-bright pen to grade spelling tests.

It's nice to have a little bit of company as he works on cars and yard work, even if you watch him like a voyeur, blushing if he notices, gasping if he plays into this new little game. At some point, he voided his shirts altogether. It’s not long before Gabriella has a game of her own to play.

“Psst, Lyla. Vente, Lyla.”

Gabriella sits boredly in the shop after school. Sometimes in his office, other times in the shop during breaks. One of his technicians, Lyla, sat on an upside-down bucket by Miguel’s side as he worked on a car. This time, it was a stupid simple fix. The idiot ripped off their bumper parking too far on a curb. Lyla sat in gold coveralls, undoubtedly grinning behind that black mask slapped across her face. He didn’t need to look away from the clips he was applying to know they were both up to shit.

“Yeah?”

“Papi has a crush on my teacher. I think she could be my new mami. If--”

“Miguel has a crush?” His other tech, Peter chirped up with a hunk of sandwich in his fingertips. How was he always slacking off and eating? Miguel didn't know, but he was. “I can't believe it. He hasn’t had a crush since Tem--”

“I don’t have a crush,” Miguel responded. “Less scheming, more homework, kid. She told me you’re behind on schoolwork.”

She does so well on spelling tests, Miguel, you told him at parent-teacher conferences. But she never turns in homework.

Gabriella was not behind because she was stupid. She was behind because she was a stubborn little child who, Miguel knew, was trying to set him up. Lyla abandoned the bucket to walk over near Gabriella’s unicorn table, pulling out a microsized table and looking down at the stupid simple homework. Single-digit numbers were a painful waste of time to a kid who loved math.

“She’s single?”

“Yup,” Gabi chirped, scratching away at her coloring page with a fat purple crayon. “Mimi told me.”

“No boyfriend?”

“No boyfriend. I double-checked. And get this, she said she would come help me with homework.”

“Lyla.” Miguel shoved the opposite end of the bumper in place, securing it carefully. Lyla was bent down by Gabriella. So Papi has more time to see her! Gabriella whispered. He may not know what you’re saying, but he knows it’s bad by the way she looks at him. As though she were a cat might with a glass it was about to shatter on the floor. “You can go home now.”

His daughter doesn’t need any more of her devilish attributes.

“You fucked it alright, mujer. What did you hit?”

Miguel twisted a bit of the sidewall between his fingers to gauge the depth of the hole. Never mind that the back passenger wheel whistled away until it ran flat. It wasn’t the first time someone brought him a car that was fucked. It was the first time you had.

You never asked him for anything, not at the price of your pride. You simply… made it work. Just like Miguel made childcare work by leaving his shop to pick Gabriella up and leaving her bored as fuck every weekday until he could close up shop.

Today, Mimi and Gabriella were inside, playing with dolls after a warm dinner of arroz blanco and fatty pork chops. He wasn’t much a fan of your sickly sweet platano, but he tried it tonight after Gabriella hounded him. Don’t be rude, papi! He’s gotten used to coming home on Wednesday to dinner. It’s something that he realizes he’s missed: having someone to come home to.

“A pothole,” you murmured shyly. His forehead rippled into wrinkles, holding the chunk of broken-off rubber between his fingertips. He rubbed the exhaustion out of his dark eyes, minding the nervous twiddling of your fingers.

“A pothole,” he repeated after you. No matter how many times he considered it, it did not fit. His body was ripe with aggravated energy. He’s too tired for this. The shit he’d seen in his shop and you expected him to believe that you hit-- a pothole? “Qué mierda.”

Miguel set his hands on his hip, rolled on his heel, and stepped back to inspect his future work. His body thrummed, a tightness pulling with the sight of your shy smile. The truth tittered on your luscious little lips.

“I may or may not have hit those rocks by Doña Díaz’s casita.” One look around the street revealed the chunky, pointy rocks you referenced. Miguel flicked the bit of rubber onto the top of the car and looked at you. You were guilty as the day was long. “They weren’t that far off the curb before! I know that it’s bad. Do you think you could-- fix it?”

“You’re going to have to replace those two,” Miguel gestured. “What, did you not see the massive rocks on the side of the road? What were you doing? Eres una mama, you have to pay attention, por dios. You could have been hurt.”

Your eyes darted to the wheels. The nervousness was strong, nearly all-consuming, bidding you to shut up. Though it was a good question, the shame that flecked your eyes was enough to cause Miguel to move on. He knew you were likely inattentive, your mind hovering somewhere else than the quiet cul-de-sac.

“I… had a bad date, Miguel. I was upset and dizzy and… Don’t tell anyone, please.”

The pain of being a woman. His eyes soften as he reaches out, his large hand warm on your slight shoulder. A pulse of warmth rushed through his hand as you leaned in, your cheek plastered to his stained top. He smelled of oil and sweat, but somehow, you find it comforting. Your hands come over his back, tugging on the dark coveralls.

“It’s alright,” Miguel sighed. He'd tell you not to pick shit men-- but sometimes, as he knew, that didn't matter at all. “I’ll have it fixed.”

“I don’t have that much money, Miguel,” you began. “I have to take care of the kids, my house, Mimi. I…”

“No te preocupes. You can do something else for me.”

You drew in a small, choked breath. The type that settled in your chest and did not leave. Not until Miguel’s arms wound over your waist to soothe you through the pain and pressed a kiss that lasted entirely too long to the top of your head. It’s the first time he wants another.

“She is dating,” Peter said. “You know what that means? It means you’re on a time crunch. She could always meet the one!”

"I'm not concerned about it."

The one, Miguel shook his head as he paced past the car he was propping up. He never heard anything more ludicrous. There was no such thing as the one. There was only a range of possibilities to pick from. At any point, life can happen. Then your one is gone-- and you’re left with only the memories and a body to bury. Still, as he clambered underneath the car, he found that he quite didn’t like the thought of you out with anyone else... especially not men who may or may not spike your drink.

“You should ask her to a date. Like, more than playing house with sticky kids and lasagna.”

“She’s never made me lasagna.”

Peter sloppily suckled on his fingers, the juice running down his thin wrists. “Then what was lunch?”

“Pastelón,” he answers bitterly. “It’s… plantain lasagna.”

“Okay, I thought you didn’t like--”

“I don't-- I eat it because she spends time on it.”

Peter sucked in a breath, eyes wide. He’s about to say something terribly unuseful, something like how Miguel has it bad. Miguel knows he does, half-formed images of what a family could be every day he went to pick Gabriella up, homework done, and happily fed. A feat in itself.

In place of that, though, were the car’s melded, mechanical squeals. He has but a moment and a half-formed plan that goes up in smoke the next second that it falls on his arm. He hears Peter’s half-formed, panicked shout to Lyla and recalls the flurry of steps and medical attention sometime later.

Admittedly, he did tell you to be careful.

When he wakes up, so does everyone else. Lyla chastizes him with her hands balled up on her hips, Peter sobs almost twice as much as Gabriella does until the two are dead asleep against his bed. Miguel’s eyes have rolled way too far.

“Is he finally asleep?” you peep into his heavy hospital door with a ginger knock of your knuckles. Miguel throws a look at Peter’s squishy face, half slumped over.

“Hermosa, I thought he’d never stop,” he grumbled.

“You scared him.”

Tch. Miguel watched you pick up Gabriella, settling her on the stiff pull-out bed. He foggily asked you what time it was, close to the end of visiting hours. He’d need to arrange something for Gabi with Lyla taking care of the shop. It itched at his throat.

“Gabi too. Should I…”

“Take her home for me,” he grumbled. “I’ll be back tomorrow. It’s just a broken arm.”

“You coughed up blood, Miggy. You could have died if Peter wasn’t there.”

Miggy. You finally used the nickname somewhere between Wednesday dinner dates and a car slumping on him. Miguel throws a growl to the side, using his non-fucked hand to pet the top of Peter’s head. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew you were right.

“What happens if… something happens to you?”

“With Gabi?” he asks.

"Sí. With everything."

You nod, looking idly at his little daughter, still in her school clothes. You brought her as soon as school was over, soothed the panic in her voice, the thought of becoming an orphan just because the car had cracked his arm. She wouldn’t have remembered her mother’s death, it was far too long ago now.

“Lyla. Why the face? If you’re jealous, know that was the agreement with my wife before she was murdered.”

You hadn’t known you were making a face, but you were to the trained eye. Some small pout of your lip, tears welling at the corner of your eyes. Miguel shoves himself up on the bed, straining sore muscles. It was going to be a long night. A longer month or two until he was up and running again.

“I’m not making a face. It's just... You were reckless when you're usually so careful. I'm wondering why. I'm sorry.”

"It's fine," Miguel urged you to come closer. "Come here."

You slid into his chair, tentatively sneaking your hand on top of his. Miguel wanted to tell you more. There was not another friend nearly so close, one that would take care of everything and anything he needed. He's suddenly aware of his situation. It would be difficult to make a woman secure that he'd not tied down yet. You clearly care-- based on the insecurity in your eyes.

You’re on a time crunch. She could always meet the one.

He doesn't want to miss his shot. He brought your hand to his lips, straining with a pained little grunt. You stood up to help him, allowing his lips to flutter over the back of your hand in a small kiss at his urging.

“Trust me. She’s not a threat,” he said. “You’ll take Gabi with you?”

“Of course, Miggy. Anything you need.”

Securing a relationship would just have to wait.

The first day back, Miguel sent Gabriella off with Lyla. Mimi is off with her papa, leaving you with nothing but time. He finally saw his projects through without Peter loitering over his shoulder, revitalizing cars with bad radiators and fizzled-out air compressors. As if Peter was the boss and he were the employee. The grease under his fingers feels more like Miguel than any squeaky clean shower you’ve helped him take. Yes, you’ve helped him take. He could have asked Lyla or Peter, but why over-extend their lives when you lived in his home for the past month to take care of Gabriella anyway?

He wonders what you thought, stripping him down to nothing, seeing his naked thighs, watching him clean sensitive bits that, as you lied, you were not looking at. He finds it cute, the way you tried to look away, but of course-- you always snuck a look. You’re nosy by nature. He’s never been ashamed of his body, though. For all the work you did, he thinks you deserve a look.

“Miggy,” you slipped through the side door, your heels clicking over a greased-up floor. He hopes you don’t fall, arms deep in the hood of a shiny dark blue convertible. It’s nearly perfect. “I got your message. You said we need to talk?”

“Don’t slip.”

Miguel whirled a wrench into its place, slammed the hood shut, and rubbed the grease on his hands together. Like it will come off his callouses. Miguel meets you half way, offering you his greased up hand. You look down at his hand, then up to Miguel again. He half thinks you won’t take it, but you do, allowing him to whirl you in a spin before lifting you on top od the hood of the car.

“Ay Miggy--” you cursed, looking down at the car. It shone bright, its smooth metal cold under your bare thighs. He pins you in place as you attempt to wiggle off, nearly jiggling your way onto his lap. “The owner will be mad--”

“It’s mine and I’m not.” He explains. “I know what I want.”

“You want…?”

“For the work on your car.” It’s cute how clueless you act, holding your breath as his fingers course past your bare thighs. You barely manage to choke the words out, your hands inching on his. He replaces himself between your thighs. You both know that you more than made up for the few hundred dollars in repairs with the work you’d done for him in a month. Holding your breath, you nod.

“Tell me.”

“I want a night with you.”

You didn’t know what to say, leaning your trembling fingers up to the bits of dark brown hair that accentuated the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes. You met his eyes, trained on your own, challenging you to respond. Words formed in a mishmash of nonsense on your tongue. You take the chance to press your lips on his, your hand suddenly cradling the side of his face for some stability. You were hardly comfortable on his car, but Miguel didn’t seem to care, biding your lower lip to open and let him in. You relinquish, savoring the distant taste of roasted coffee on his tongue, his fingers teasing along your thighs.

“That’s not an answer,” Miguel pulled back from your lips for an instant. He graces your neck with soft kisses, leaving the occasional bite and tug just in case-- he doesn’t need another man thinking he has so much as a chance. Your big man pins you down onto the car like you were weightless, any willingness to inch away tempered by his mass.

“Depends,” you answered. “I want this to be an every night kind of thing.”

“Consider it a trade.” He chuckled against your neck, the heat from his lips traveled across the valley of your breasts. You complied with his desire and let him slip your breasts free from your romper. His mouth closed his mouth over your nipple. His greasy hands melded your breasts between his desperate hands, tongue prodding your nipple fat. Your legs met his hungry performance by pulling him forward, his scratchy belt against your clothed cunt.

“Careful,” he teased. His hand fell to his bulge, unbuttoning his stained pants. You watched him pull himself free, pulling panties and romper alike to the side of your lips. Your lips parted, much like that very first day you met him, sundered by the sight of his cock. This time, fully hard. He doesn’t enter your cunt-- no, he’s patient, slotting himself between your folds for a teasing grind. His dick twitched in response, eager to finally fuck you. “You’ll fall off.”

“It’s your fault. You could have asked over dinner.” He greets your complaint with a nod, flicking your other breast. He envelops the other nipple between his mouth, his teeth grazing along the sensitive skin. You take a long breath, hips leaning up against his firm length.

“Like that would be anything new. We always have dinner,” Miguel murmured in protest. “A far better use of our time is soaking your pretty cunt with my cum on this car before dinner.”

He felt your cunt clench at nothing. His hips, thrusting against your mound, nudged over your wet little folds, knocked against your greedy clit. Before you could respond, Miguel popped off your nipple again, “You like that thought? Going to dinner leaking?”

“Miggy, por dios,” you complained. “Stop dry humping and give it to me.”

He huffed darkly, snatching one of your thighs and leaning back. He spreads your lips, inspecting his work. You were wet, but not just wet, soaking his car. Miguel brought his other palm to wipe your wetness away, jerking himself with the fluid. He tests your reaction by nudging the head of his cock against your unprepared hole.

“Miguel,” you bit out, this time a warning.

“Ya te oigo,” Miguel loomed over you, pinning your shoulder back to his glistening car. You don’t debate him on that, allowing him to say whatever he wants if it would just get him inside. Miguel relinquishes control, pushing inside of your tightness. He bit back a groan, pushing past your body’s resistance, throbbing against your core. Your hands fisted his dirty shirt, cunt split wide on his cock, and glad for it.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his hands securing themselves on your hips. He gives you a moment to catch your breath before he pulls nearly free, slamming forth just a moment later. Breath punched out of your throat, his cock rocking your cunt nice and full. You loved this-- looking beautiful and full just for him. He knew it too, “Hermosa.”

Miguel held his arm tight around your thigh, holding you flush against his rutting hips. His balls slapped your ass, pulling tight. You were distantly aware of his thumb at your clit, leaning your hips into his thrusts the best you could. You could only squirm to keep yourself upright on his car despite feeling your body sliding into his. His thumb worked in insistent, tight circles, forcing the pleasure to burrow in your low belly, tightening over him. It’s no marker of your performance, you think, hoping he’d give you another chance to be anything but a toy on his cock.

“No, no puedo--” you whined, your hands dipping under his shirt to scratch at his finely cut muscles, knowing you were about to gush.

“Do it,” Miguel grunts in response, his thumb more insistent. You’re not entirely proud of the way you came, creaming his cock desperately. He held strong, smothering his own groans if only for the pleasure of hearing your passionate cries. You come to moments after, Miguel’s thrusts now intent on his own pleasure.

“Come on, papi,” you worshipped. “Cum in me.”

“Fuck,” Miguel complied, his dirty nails causing sharp indentions on your thigh and hip. His sticky cum fills you in a few deep thrusts, each more forceful than the last, and he’s spent. If he was dirty before, he was filthy now. Miguel catches your lips in a lingering kiss, going soft in your body. He knew the second he pulled out your cum was soaking his now-dented car.

His eyes peeled open to find your gaze on him, tracing fresh superficial scratches on his belly. Of course, you are-- you’re a hungry addict. Miguel pulled himself free and looked for a cloth that wasn’t grease soaked to clean your cunt with. You piece yourself together and slide off his car.

“Let’s go.”

“¿Qué?” he zips himself back into his pants.

“You promised me dinner.”

He sighs-- just as long as it wasn’t lasagna.

There’s something attractive about your love of children.

He thinks it’s likely because he’s never had that himself. His mother was a beast of a woman. Never affectionate. At least, not with him. After his wife’s subsequent death, life proceeded in a vacuum. The years passed: first one. Then six. Then he was here, holding a bundle of jewel-bright roses against an uncharacteristically clean button-up, walking down the dull blue carpet of the beige hallway to the pod that usually held the kids. For all the days you tolerated him smeared and slathered, you deserved a good display.

They were usually alight with noise, rambling on about their latest toy or prattling on about a mommy that Gabriella just did not have. The more she grew, the more important it became to have that for her-- maybe it was more for himself. Today, that hall was dead of life.

“Gabi, I hear your papi,” you called from somewhere inside. He hears her subsequent pitter-patter of feet across the carpet, popping out with Mimi from the door before he can open it. Miguel cocked his head, a sigh working on his lips. They whirled the door shut. Gabi bolted to your would-be desk and slapped her tanned palms on the tabletop.

“Maestra, maestra!”

Ah, damn it all. Miguel’s hand hovers around the knob, chewing on the next thought. He couldn’t really blame the kid for what she was about to say, because he knew exactly what she was about to do.

“¿Mande?”

“I have something to tell you, it’s really important. Papi likes you, did you know my papi really, really likes you?”

There’s a pause. Then a slight, amused giggle from Mimi. It’s short-lived as he pulls open the door, loathing this dumb thing called Teacher’s Week that leaves him with a bundle of flowers and instant regret.

“Sí, Gabriella. I know he does. I like him too. He’s so cute.”

If he weren’t so dark, he’d worry about the flush in his face with the embarrassment of being outed by his little girl. He stares at your hands on Gabriella’s, then at the small sea of desks and colorful name tags to break some of the tension, hardening his face to shield it from the embarrassment. Was he really so obvious?

“Hola Miggy.”

You scoot out of your chair.

“Hola,” he sighs, remembering he was holding flowers. He slides them into your hands, hooking his hands on his slender hips. “This is… Gabi wanted to give you flowers.”

“I never said that,” she chirped, bouncing his way. “You said--”

“Gabriella.” Miguel hisses, his tone sharp at her interjection. She goes dead silent by Mimi's side, staring up at him with watery eyes. He jerks his head in the direction of the quartet of desks she sits at. “Go get your things.”

“I think Papi is embarrassed,” you whisper, crouching down to rub her little back, soothing down her milky white top. “I’ll talk to him and make it better, okay? Go with Mimi.”

“Okay.”

Mimi bounded off behind Gabi, stuffing her bag with her colorful work and chunky crayons. Miguel exhaled air, staring at her powdery blue backpack for something other than the complete and utter embarrassment that yet someone else had called him out. If it wasn't Peter, it was his daughter.

Had he been this obvious the whole time?

“Don’t be too hard on her tonight,” He peered down at you, small in the grand scheme of his height and musculature. You pecked a small kiss on his lips, stroking his week-old stubble, just enough to cool Miguel’s teetering nerves. “It’ll be better when she finds out.”

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 6 months ago

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(Yandere!Reader) Mine, Mine and Mine

Pairing: Dark Reader x Izuku Midoriya

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: For you, it doesn’t matter if Izuku has a girlfriend or not. He’s still yours, even if he doesn’t want to.

WARNINGS: Sexual Coercion; Blackmail: Forced Cheating.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback 😊 let me know if you liked this yandere reader.

Also I've been so busy with college and have few time to write, so please be patient with me 😅

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Your lips trace across Izuku’s chest, a content hum rumbling in your chest. You kiss and lick the soft skin of his chest, hands busy roaming around the expanse of his hard abdomens.

It’s almost impossible to ignore the wild way your pussy tingles and you softly grind against his muscled thigh.

Rolling your hips, you can’t prevent the shaky whimper that comes out of you and Izuku immediately tenses up, his hands bunching up the bed sheets as an uncomfortable expression shades his pretty face.

“Fuck, ‘zuku.” you whine burying your face in his neck, increasing the urgency of your hips at pleasure that builds in your core. “You feel so good, baby. A-ah, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too fast…”

He tilts his face to the ceiling, closing his eyes as you sloppily kiss his Adam's apple and every part of his neck.

His thigh is all muscle and big, the perfect combination to have you curling your toes everytime your clit bumps on his skin. So this is what cloud-nine feels like.

It doesn’t take long for you to come undone with a breathless moan, his thigh shiny with your juices as you reach your peak.

Izuku doesn’t wait for you to fully catch your breath before his hands are steadily pulling you off of his lap.

“Can I go home now?” his voice is barely above a whisper, sounding so small and defeated that you almost feel pity for the former wannabe hero.

Almost.

Your lips curl into a pout, and you cling to his arms.

“Aw, you don’t wanna stay some more and have fun?” you playfully kiss his chin, even as he slightly turns away. “You could eat my pussy out, and then I could return the favor. Wouldn’t that be nice, baby?”

He doesn’t look at you, head hanging low.

“I’d prefer to go home…” he quietly mumbles.

Your lips lightly trace his sharp jawline till you reach his ear, softly nibbling it.

“Please…her patrol ends in an hour.”

You scoff, pulling away your face so you can look at him.

“And?” the disdain in your voice is sharp and evident, “If she gets home and you’re not there to greet her like a good puppy, it’s not gonna be the end of the world.”

His eyes dart to you, the hypnotizing shade of emerald-green showcasing his true feelings even though his face is a blank canvas.

“Y’know, I admire how much you care about her, I really do. ” you reach closer, softly nipping at his lower lip. “Uraraka is really lucky to have you. Such a sweet handsome boyfriend, one that cares so much about her.”

Your teeth punctuate a bite into the plush skin of his lip, and Izuku flinches at that. Even the taste of his blood is sweet.

“But do you think she loves you as much as you love her? Hum?” you question him. “Do you really think she’d still love you if she found out about us? About the way you let me hump all of you. About the way I suck your cock so well and make you cum all over my face? What do you think, baby?”

“I don’t… I never wanted any of this!”

“Don’t be a liar now. I know you love it when we fuck. I bet she can’t even make you cum as hard as I can.”

“Stop.” his voice has a harshness that matches the growing anger on his face, even if you know that he would never act on it. “Don’t…bring her into this.”

The side of your lips curl into a grin. You love riling the poor man up and mentioning his bitch girlfriend never fails.

“Aw, ‘zuku. You know she’d leave you in a blink of the eye if this little affair of ours came to light. She doesn’t love you that much.” you offer a sickly-sweet smile, bopping his nose.

“But I do. If only you knew just how much I love you, baby, then maybe you wouldn’t be so mean to me. I’d do anything for you.”

Izuku refuses to look at you after that, and you sigh.

“Okay, fine. Go running back home, if that’s what you want.” you roll away from him, pushing your back against the headboard, hawk-like eyes following Izuku as he rushes to dress his clothes back.

Just as he’s about to fly out of the shitty motel room, you stop him.

“Oh, Izuku?”

He reluctantly turns around to face you, his shoulder all tensed up. You fondly smile at that.

“If you start having any doubts about our arrangement, just remember that I won’t hesitate before destroying your girl’s entire life and career."

"So for her sake, don’t ever ignore me, okay sweetie?”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere reader #yandere reader x character #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #deku x reader #tw: yandere #tw: abuse #tw: dark content

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thatrandomidiot182 · 6 months ago

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Bird in a Cage

TW. cursing, minor violence, some gore, toxic relationships, reader matches their freak

Pairings. Targtower Duo x Reader (Mainly Aemond). (Possibly implied) Helaena x Reader.

A/N. Happy Halloween, everyone!! Ghostface Targtower won the poll by a landslide! Unfortunately, I got so caught up in writing this that I neglected the runner-up, which happened to be my favorite, so that will also be out soon, hopefully... definitely before Thanksgiving!! 😅

Anways, hope you enjoy reading! If I missed any TW pls let me know, I'm still new to tagging them...

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Shitshitshitshit- "FUCK!"

The loud thud followed by a string of obscenities was almost enough to get you to falter in your gait.

Almost.

The all-consuming fear and anxiety flooding through your veins was enough to keep you running without sparing a second glance back.

Your breath left you in short, hurried pants. Eyes darting back and forth between the ground and hall in front of you in a frantic attempt to keep your footing and avoid any unnecessary obstacles.

Obstacles like the vase next to the bathroom that you've stubbed your toe on one too many times, or the small table placed at the beginning of the stairway downstairs...

Or the sudden cloaked figure that popped his head over the bannister.

"Where do you think you're going pretty bird?"

The short scream that left you was more out of shock than fear, as his leather clad hand shot out to grab yours just as it had reached out to grab the railing.

"Ooh, I quite liked that..."

Your head snapped back towards the lurking figure behind you. The long black robe was a bit snug on his figure, draping down to rest on the top of his stained sneakers. His gloved hands were draped across his chest, stretching the fabric of the robe to the point you could see a glimpse of the color shirt he was wearing beneath.

It appeared to be emerald green, in a shade similar to Aegons favorite-

Oh God Aegon!

The sudden reminder of your best friend, who you had left on your bed during your journey to the kitchen, was enough to make you nauseous.

If the first killer emerged from your room when you had first come up the stairs, then...

It meant that Aegon was dead.

Without a doubt.

He stood no chance if the killer had caught him off guard...

God, you just hoped it was quick.

If anything, it was more likely than not that his throat had been slit...

Just like little Lucerys Velaryon...

Luke had been the first victim connected to these killers and the leaked crime scene photos were quick to circulate your school once it was confirmed.

It was disgustingly inappropriate, and you had nearly vomited all over Aegons lap when he had shown them to you.

You remember the sick grin on his face as he had goaded you into looking. The wicked gleam of satisfaction in his eyes as he had mocked your reluctance.

"C'mon, everyone else has already seen them! You don't wanna be known as the only wimp who didn't look, right?"

His words rang out as clear as day as you recalled the contents of the picture, only this time, you were imagining Aegon himself as the victim.

You wonder what he'd ended up looking like.

Was his head twisted back, eyes forever frozen wide open in fear?

Maybe he never even got a chance to fear his fate, and was instead left slumped over the bed with his signature grin engraved on his face...

Or, maybe the killer had used the extra five minutes you spent preparing the popcorn to beat the poor boy unconscious before-

Your morbid thoughts quickly came to a halt as you heard the footsteps pickup again.

"Well, this was easier than I thought it'd be, I'm honestly a bit disappointed in you, birdie... We put so much effort just to get you all to ourselves, and you don't even put up a fight? That's not very considerate of you..."

You furrowed your brows, in annoyance. Without saying anything in response, you quickly yanked your hand away from the one on the stairs, barreling straight towards the one who had emerged from your room. Thankfully catching him off guard, you burst into the master bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you.

You allowed yourself a small grin of satisfaction at the thud that followed.

"You are such a moron!"

Thankfully, their bickering allowed you enough time to manouver the window open.

Sitting on the windowsill and sparing a quick look behind you let you see that they had already gotten over their squabble and were making their way into the room with you. Unfortunately, it seems like the taller one had caught onto your plan, as he pushed his partner towards you before disappearing into the hallway.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Your jaw clenched as you rushed to squeeze yourself through the opening, barely escaping his gloved hand that had reached out to stop you.

"Fuck you."

With those final words, you pushed yourself out onto the roof of your backyard patio, taking an extra second to pettily slam the window back down onto your pursuers hands.

"SON OF A-"

Ignoring his expletives, you made quick work of carefully crawling your way down the slope of the roofing. As you finally reached your destination, you hesitated.

The last time you did this, you were about ten inches shorter and had someone waiting to catch you.

Now, you were fifty times more scared, still in your pajamas, with no shoes, and two serial killers chasing you down...

But, beggars can't be choosers.

So, with a quick, quiet "Fuck me" you jumped.

The water was always freezing when the sun went down.

When you were little, you used to cry when your parents wouldn't let you go night swimming. You always used to talk back and argue that you weren't a wimp who'd get sick from being a little cold...

Now you're thankful they never did give in to your pleads, as even now, as you pulled your fully grown self out of the depths of the pool, you could sense the sickness developing.

You didn't have time to dwell on your feelings however, as just as you had regained your footing, the grating sound of your back door sliding open rang out.

You didn't even glance back at the figure you knew was there before you booked it towards your side gate, quickly flicking the pathetic excuse for a lock open.

This one was quieter than his counterpart. Taller, too, but not as broad, as was obvious by the flowiness of the cloak he donned.

You hated it.

You hated how easy it was for him to get behind you, as you slammed the gate shut in his face.

You hated that you didn't hear him complain about it like the other one.

Not taking another second to dwell in your thoughts, you made your way off of the property and into the street.

Your feet screamed in protest as the sharp pebbles and rough asphalt dug into your soles, but you kept running.

Your body shivered as the wind blew through your clothes during your sprint, but soon enough, your eyes welled up with tears of relief as they fell upon a welcome sight.

You had made it out.

You escaped.

You survived.

The relief was so overwhelming that you didn't even question the presence of Aemonds car parked at the corner of your street.

You simply ran up to the side of the door, knocking frantically on the passenger window, where you were met with the familiar wide-eyed gaze of Helaena.

Sweet, innocent, dear Helaena, who you had never been more happy to see.

"Helaena! Oh my god- thank god- We need- You know, the killers- The- The murderers they- They, OH! Aegon-Aegon is-"

Your rambling was cut short as Helaena opened the car door, pushing you back slightly as she rushed out to meet you.

"W-What are you doing out here? You're not supposed to..." She trailed off, hands clasped down on your shoulders as she whipped her head around in search of something unknown to you.

"Oh, god if anyone sees us-"

Your brows furrowed as she delved into a quiet ramble, her blunt nails digging into your arms painfully as you process her words.

"Helaena, what the fuck are you talking about? Right now isn't the time for your whole weird chick act, okay! Get your ass in the car we need to go!"

You don't know if she was purposefully ignoring you or not, but her silence was enough to fuel the rage that had been simmering inside you all night.

You didn't mean to lash out on her, but she was an easy target, and if you didn't focus on your anger, you'd completely shut down.

"HELAENA! Are you listening to me!?! We need to get the FUCK out of here, so get in the car!"

She once again ignored you, staring blankly over your shoulder as she limply released her hold on you.

You huffed, "Helaena, get in the car."

When she didn't respond, you resorted to copying her earlier actions, gripping her shoulders, and shaking her back and forth in an attempt to wake her from her sudden stupor.

Now giving up on being quiet and just shouting in her face, "HELAENA GET IN THE GODDAMN CAR-"

You froze as a hand clamped down on your shoulder, "Sorry, little bird, but she won't be doing that."

Gulping, you slowly turned your head towards the man that stood behind you, coming face to face with that stupid goddamn mask.

"Boo."

You screamed, or at least you tried to, but the gloved hand that wasn't on your shoulder quickly snapped up to cover your mouth before you could. The killer, who you recognized as the one who chased you by the pool, wasted no time and immediately spun you around to face him, slamming your back into the car.

"God, you're adorable, you know that..." His grip on you tightened as his hand trailed from your shoulder to your waist. "But, you're also infuriating."

You whimpered as his grip continued to tighten, squirming in his hold as he pressed his body to yours, pinning you against the cool metal of the car behind you.

"I just don't know what to do with you..." He sighed, pelvis up against your own as he shoved a knee between your legs, keeping you trapped and off balance. His hand moved from your waist to your head as he gently ran his fingers along your hair.

"That's it, keep looking at me like that-"

"You got her! Good, I don't know how I was gonna pull off a resurrection..."

Your eyes widened at the voice that had interrupted whatever creepy ass monologue was about to happen. You watched, frozen stiff as the source approached your little group, focus quickly snapping from Helaenas guilty form to the new arrival...

Aegon.

His smirk broke into a laugh as his gaze met your own, body hunching over as he cackled to himself, "Oh man, you should see the look on your face! Not so tough now, are ya?"

As much as you would have liked to deny the truth, even your survival fried brain was coherent enough to piece together the facts in front of you.

It really was impossible to deny...

Even though he had ditched the cloak, his shirt was the exact same shade as the man who chased you in the house, and clenched in his bloodied and bruised fingers was that stupid mask...

Your eyes welled up with tears as you processed, muffled sobs ringing out into the night as he laughed in your face.

"Come now, you're already crying? The best reveal hasn't even happened yet..."

You tearfully glared at Aegon as he walked over to slump his form onto Helaenas.

"Yes, as you should've guessed by now, I'm not the only one involved in this little game, no. Our dear, sweet, innocent little Helaena is in on it as well! Not so innocent now, is she-" he snickered to himself as Helaena avoided your gaze, "But! The final reveal has yet to be made!" He snapped up straight, hands flaunting about as he dramatically made his way towards your figure.

"Yes, our friend here has yet to introduce himself, how rude!" He laughed, hand slowly reaching toward the mask of the man holding you.

"Make your guesses now, folks, it's not a hard guess, really. It's actually quite obvious if you ask me!" He paused, left hand raising to cup his ear as he swiveled his head around, eyes meeting yours as the implication struck...

No. fucking. way.

He smirked as your eyes widened, hand snatching the mask back to reveal flowing silver locks and a face you knew all too well.

"Why, if it isn't the one, the only, Aemond Targaryen! Who didn't see that coming?" Aegons laughter rang through your head as your sobs increased.

You desperately shook your head, fighting the hand against your mouth as you screamed your denial.

There's no way this was happening.

There's no way your best friend just revealed himself and his siblings to you as serial killers.

There's no way that was your boyfriend.

"Are you done now, or should I get you a hat and a horn too?" Aemond spat, glaring at Aegon as his elder brother lifted his hands in surrender.

"Hey now, I'm just trying to lighten the mood a little! You don't really think she'd be down for the next part the way she currently is, do you?"

You ignored their bickering, instead focusing on berating yourself for being so stubborn.

Everyone told you he was bad news, even his own family!

Your parents had talked to you about him before. Saying your relationship was unhealthy, that he was too toxic for you, and staying with him was only gonna end up with you getting hurt.

You ignored them, of course. Too blinded by the rose tinted glasses he had strapped on your head to see all the red flags.

He had complete control over you, molding your personality and hobbies to be solely centered around him and his desires.

He didn't like your friends? Oh well, they weren't that cool anyway, besides, you still had Helaena and Aegon!

He worried about you running around late at night? You never liked going out much, no biggie! Aegon was always down for a movie night at your house!

He hated when you wore that dress you loved so much? It's okay, you were planning on getting rid of it, too. Helaena had mentioned that it was looking a bit tight...

The hold he had on you was alarming. Everyone knew it, you knew it. You just ignored it, perfectly content to live your life peacefully under Aemonds thumb if it meant he'd always and forever look at you like that.

No one had ever looked at you like that before Aemond.

With blown out pupils and rosy cheeks.

Eyebrows always curved in the softest, most reverent look you'd ever seen.

Aemond had always looked at you like you were a work of art. You just never realized what that truly meant.

You never realized how deep his devotion ran, how obsessed he was with you... how obsessed they both were, really.

Until now.

Where you sat shaking, nauseous, and terrified in between the two serial killers who just so happened to be your closest friends.

Your closest friends who were also vicious, merciless, cruel monsters that murdered your other friends just to get you to themselves... and who... who...

Who, you couldn't help but feel flattered by.

You know you shouldn't but, come on...

What girl wouldn't, when the two people they love most turn out to be equally as obsessed with them.

You're just glad you were smarter about it than they were...

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superiorsturgeon · 8 months ago

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Emerald: There you guys are! How’d you escape the cops? I thought they had you cornered!

Pyrrha: *uncomfortably avoiding eye contact* 😕

Jaune: You want to tell her, Nora? 😒

Nora: *hiding her face in her hands and blushing like a tomato* 😖

Emerald: …okay…now I KNOW something weird happened!

Ren: The police tried to taser us, but well…

Twenty minutes earlier…

Nora: *moans loudly* HaaAAAaarrDEErr…don’t stoooooop…! 🥴

JPR: 😳

Nora: 🫢

Police Officer: *holding depleted taser* What the FUCK?! I am so not paid enough for this. I’m transferring back to the sanitation department!

Back in the present…

Ren: …they suddenly saw the error of their ways and had a change of heart…! 😅

Emerald: 🤨

Nora: 🫣

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #lie ren #nora valkyrie #emerald sustrai

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nescaveckwriter · 11 months ago

Note

Heyy! Can I request a Dean Winchester x reader with an established relationship where they have to deal with a case for which they have to dress up all nice, and reader usually wear baggy clothes or clothing that hides most of her body and for the first time, he sees reader in a tight fitting dress and he's just

😍 "shit, that's my woman?!"

And he's just over the moon even more for reader (if that's even possible)

😱💓🥰... Awww sweetheart this is such a cute idea, I just simply love it, also thanks for asking, I really do hope you like, this little drabble, I've written is what you had in mind💓 anywayz I hope you have an epic day, love ... 🐞💓🥰

A/N: I love receiving requests, so keep em coming 😅

Warnings: 18+Only, Some mention of violence, and intimacy, but nothing to much, light foul language. And Pure FLUFF 🥳😘💕

Pictures used: Pinterest

Words: 1189 😘

Lady in Red 💕

His husky voice lingers in the air, oh how I loved the sound of his voice, we have been together for a few years now, and somehow hearing him, looking at him, never got old. His green eyes caught mine, helding it captive, because I mean who wouldn't drown in those emerald green orbs, mouthing with his plum lips across the table, "I love you" as Sam discussed the plan with us. Mouthing back "I love you too Dean". Looking at each other as if we were the only people in the room.

"Really you two?" Sam looked at the two of them, "we need to focus, the two of you need to pose as a high end, couple, for this charity event, so I need both of you too listen" Dean and I looked a little guilty, but then Dean smirked "bite me" I chuckled a little, the way Sam's face has irritation written all over..

Sam looked at me, eyeing the oversized clothing I always wear, oh he didn't want to say it out loud but, I knew what he was thinking, how am I going to look the part?. I barely even wear makeup or do my hair, but like who would not want to be comfortable when you're fighting monsters and ghosts. I smile, "Don't worry boys, I'll dress the part" Dean gave me this surprised almost scolding look sounding sincere, "You are beautiful sweetheart, I don't care what you wear, your beautiful" he walked up to me, and without hesitation he pulled me into an endearing kiss, his hands resting on my hips, I heard Sam, mumbling "Oh! Give me a break" and walk out, leaving the two of us, I could feel the way Dean smiled, against my lips. After a few more seconds, we came up for air, sounding breathy ,"Babe you should stop terrorising your brother so much" he simply smirked "Not my fault Sammy is so easily annoyed" I laugh, starting to turn away from him, "I need to go and get ready for tonight's event, you too mister" he grabbed my wrist, "Come here sweetheart" he pulled me close to him, looking into my eyes, "you know I love you right, more than anything in this world?" I smiled, looking at this gorgeous man in front of me, his freckles, my damn weakness, "Mhmm you see I know that's not true" surprised he looks at me "what?" Chuckling a bit "what about baby?" Referencing the love for his Chevrolet Impala, standing in the garage, he burst into laughter "You are driving me crazy woman, now go get ready" giving me a playful slap on the rear. I walk away, smiling, my heart bursting with love and joy.

He smiles as he watches her walk away, wearing loose fitting jeans one of his t-shirts and some flannel, hair in a messy bun, it's true he didn't care what she wore, she's so beautiful for him, but he would be lying, if he said he wasn't curious what she'll look like all dressed up, for some reason that's beyond him, she always thinks she's not pretty, but oh how far that could be from the truth, he knows every single inch of her body, every little spot that makes her tickle, every Little sensitive part, that makes her moan in pleasure, he loves her, even more than his car, but he'll never admit it.

Checking himself in the mirror, mumbling "I hate these monkey suits" as he struggled with his bow tie. He walks around the bunker searching for Sam, of course he finds his little brother's nose buried in those damn books, "Sammy help a man out?" Sam looks up, "you can hunt some of the most dangerous creatures, but you can't fix a tie?" The glare Dean gives him shows he isn't happy at the remark, he gets up, helping his big brother fix the tie.

Sam's eyes widens, his mouth falls open, Dean looks at him "What's your problem?" Sam could barely utter a single word he was stunned to say the least, Dean followed his eyes and when Dean turned around, his breathing hitched, his heart rate went up, he slightly gasped for air, taking in the beauty before him, his eyes wandered over her. Her hair draped over her shoulders, her eyes glistening, her smile could light up the darkest of rooms, wearing a red tight fitting dress. The high cut slit in her dress, exposing her right leg, the crystal like heels, making her seem taller, her legs leaner, the low halter cut, just exposing enough of her collar bone, to leave something for the imagination.

Without saying a word, Dean gestured for her to turn, the back of the dress, totally exposed, just covered her lower back. He bit his lower lip, and with the back of his hand, hitting against Sam's chest, his voice sounding a bit more husky, "shit, that's my woman?!" She laughed and her voice rang, "Last time I checked, I was all yours"

All the way to the event Dean could barely keep his eyes on the road.

When he led her through the doors, his hand rested on the curve of her back, so many eyes were on her, and he slightly chuckled when she whispered "why are they all looking at me?" As if she doesn't know she's beautiful! So he just smiled, took her hand, and asked "do me the honour and dance with me?" She did a little playful dip, "the honour would be all mine" before he pulled her close, he gave her a once over. He never saw the highlights in your hair, that caught your eyes, or the dress you're wearing tonight, he pulls you close. Dancing cheek to cheek, the way she feels this close to him, her small hands on his shoulders, his calloused hands, in the small of her back, sending electric shocks through her spine, swaying with the music, maybe Dean's caught up in the moment, but there's a question weighing on him for months, but now, now it feels like the right moment, he's voice sounded deeper than normal as he whispered, hot air brushing against her neck "Sweetheart?"

Slightly breathy, "Yes?" He cleared his throat, "make me the happiest man alive, and be my wife?"

Her swaying body came to a stop , "A...are you asking me" he cut her off, pulled back looking in her eyes, "yes, will you marry me?" I couldn't believe it, he just asked me to be forever his, without further due, I planted a kiss on his plum lips, soft tears rolling down my cheeks, he smiled against her soft lips, "is that a yes?" I break the kiss, smiling widely, "yes a million times yes" he laughed, picked her up, gave a twirl, and placed her down, his fingers intertwined with hers. Giving me that signature smirk, "What do you, say Mrs Winchester let's go catch that shifter, then we celebrate with some pie and beer?" I laughed, nodding, as happy as can be, "lead the way Mr Winchester".

@k-slla @jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @angelbabyyy99 @pia-bartolini

#spotify #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles x reader #sam and dean

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lunaria1928 · 3 months ago

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Togame Jo x fem!Reader

summary: asking him if he would miss you if you died. Warning: Angst and Fluff..he's ooc maybe.

Asking affectionately, "Jo, would you miss me if I were gone?" with a gentle touch to his dark raven hair, you sought his honest response.

Curiously, Jo inquired, "Why do you ask that? Are you planning to leave me?" His emerald eyes focused on you with intrigue.

Playfully, you remarked, "It's not like you would ever let me go. This is just a hypothetical question, so... would you?" Caressing his cheek tenderly, you awaited his reply. Jo gently grasped the hand on his cheek, planting a kiss on your palm.

Smiling fondly, he responded, "Of course, you are my everything, my life." His words warmed your heart, and you leaned in to kiss his cheek affectionately.

_______________________☙

In a moment of solitude, you called out to Jo, feeling a pang and coughing up blood as you gazed at the young girl you had saved earlier.

Tears welled in her brown doe eyes as you attempted to comfort her.Concerned, you asked, "Are you okay?" Nodding, the little girl's tears fell, and she inquired, "Are you going to die?" Her chubby cheeks stained with emotion.

With a broken chuckle, you replied, "Maybe." Despite the pain, you mustered a smile and asked her to fulfill a favor, straining to caress her cheek.

The unfortunate news spread of the young woman named Y/n L/n, who tragically lost her life on January 5, 2025 after heroically saving a 7-year-old girl on (Name of the street).

He remembered the day they’d exchanged the necklaces, a bright, sun-drenched afternoon filled with laughter and whispered promises of forever. He remembered the way her eyes sparkled, the way her smile could light up the darkest room. Now, only the chilling silence of her absence remained.

He looked down at Kumiko, her small face etched with a sadness that mirrored his own. “She… she asked you to give me this?” he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears.

Kumiko nodded, her own tears falling silently. “She said… she said to tell you she’ll always be with you. Even if… even if she’s not here anymore.”

Jo closed his eyes, the image of Y/n’s face flashing before him. He could almost feel her hand in his, hear her laughter echoing in his ears. He imagined her final, strained smile, the way she’d looked at Kumiko, a silent plea for her safety.

He carefully placed the necklace around his neck, the cold metal a stark reminder of his loss, but also a comforting weight, a tangible connection to the woman he loved. It wasn't just a necklace; it was a promise, a bond that transcended death.

He knelt, placing his forehead against the cold stone of the grave. The rain started to fall again, a gentle weeping mirroring his own sorrow. But amidst the grief, a flicker of warmth ignited in his heart – the memory of their love, a love that would forever remain etched in his soul. He would carry her memory, her promise, her love, with him always. He would live for both of them, keeping her light alive in his own heart. He would never forget.

_______________________☙

I don't know where is the fluff in there🤔😑🙂😅

Anyway.~ hope you like it 😉

_______________________☙

#wind breaker x reader #togame jo x reader #togame jo x you #wind breaker #togame jo #jo togame x reader #jo togame x you #choji tomiyama #windbreaker fanart #Windbreaker x reader #windbreaker anime #windbreaker x you #sakura haruka #suo hayato #haruka sakura #nirei akihiko

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valentinachatte · 5 months ago

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I'm back and i brought an new OC to this blog :3

Meet Arwen Traime, my Twisted wonderland oc

This is some basic information about her

Template by Ai_kan1

Under the cut will be more fun fact about her

All these questions is made by Miriaocs

1. Name: Arwen Traim

- Arwen means a noble maiden, very beautiful, or muse, all three meanings are suitable for Arwen

-Traime Mainly made from Tremaine

- Rook calls Arwen Dame de la pluie, which means Lady of the Rain, which is a nickname people often use (because when Arwen appears, it often rains). Rook also calls Arwen Reine de la pluie

- Floyd calls Arwen stingray-senpai (Akaei-senpai). The reason is because Floyd realizes her danger despite her gentle appearance, but the real reason is because of her ponytail. The stingray looks gentle so I chose that nickname :)))

2. Inpso: Arwen was inspired by Lady Tremaine, when I first learned about the game I also wanted to create an OC, and decided to choose Lady Tremaine without looking at the cast... and then when i finally play the game and saw saw professor Trein, at that time I almost finished building Arwen and couldn't bear to leave her 😅

3. Age/Bday: She is 18 years old. Birthday is on May 20, close to Silver and Deuce's birthday

4. Dorm: Dorm leader of Celfam, when I created her I created her dorm myself. Dorm Celfam is based on Lady Tremaine's flexibility . Arwen is flexible, and knows how to make people do what she wants but is also cold like Lady Tremaine. Currently, she lives with Lucasta (vice dorm leader, who is based on Lucifer), the two are close friends

5. Class: Arwen is in class 3C with Vil and Lucasta. Vil and Arwen talk quite well. Studied together for 3 years

6. Height: Arwen is 1m75 tall, weighs 50kg

7. Hair/Eyes color: Gray-blue hair with white highlights. Two-colored eyes but few people notice because the two eye colors are close together, one eye is jade green, and one eye is emerald green

8. Homeland: Homeland is in the Vault of Memory (imagination country that i created). No one in the cast is from the same hometown as Obv, she knew Kalim and Idia before coming to NRC because her family was familiar with the Asim and Shroud families

9. Club: Didn't join the club because she was too busy with work and because of health issues

10. Subject:

Best Subject: History of magic, Arwen is extremely good at this subject because she is a diplomat and has to remember all the big and small events.

Worst subject: Physical education (make her run 3m and she faints).

She gets along well with Mr. Trein and often asks Mr. Trein to learn more about historical events. Physical education is unavoidable

11. Hobby: She likes sightseeing, especially places with water like waterfalls or lakes, once at the lake near the ruins she met Malleus there, and from then on the two of them often went sightseeing together

12. Pet peeve: chewing makes a sound, she is super annoyed with that. she will glare at the person if they do it near her

13. Food: likes strong flavors because her taste buds are very bad. She has no preference for food, but will not eat poorly prepared dishes. Often shares with Lucasta (Lucista gets it herself)

14. Talent: Excellent diplomacy, very good at talking

15. Unique Magic: "Back to your place"

- Arwen's special magic allows her to control others according to her command (not hypnosis but direct manipulation)

- Incantation: -"heed my words and follow my command, Back to your place"- changed from the sentence - "Cinderella will be put in her place." Lady Tremaine's

- Weakness: very corrosive to the user, the biggest loophole is that you have to know the name of the person you want to use it on before you can use it + the person you want to use it on is too much stronger, it will cost a lot of magic (which can lead to her death, will be explained in the backstory)

16. Quote: -" People may enter and exit our lives, and while it can be difficult to say goodbye, it's a natural part of our journey."- she said to Malleus when talking about her illness, not long after that he Overblot

17. Personality:

- on the outside, she is mature, gentle, kind, and delicate and loves peace but always gives off a very distant feeling. Arwen is considered one of the gentlest dorm leaders (after Kalim ofc) but is still a dorm leader, a trustworthy senior.

- truth is Arwen is always jealous of the people around her, extremely distant from everyone (except Lucasta), cold, cruel, and will do anything to achieve her goals (even harming herself and others). Secretly has a superiority complex, in her heart she always looks down on those she thinks are inferior

- But Arwen is just a child who was forced to grow up too early, living in meaningless compliments but never received any true love or affection, the guilt that she bears. She also struggles with PTSD and Depression . (more will be in the backstory)

School uniform and dorm uniform

Countdown poster

She also appears in Glorious masquerade as an SSR card this is the card that i draw for her

The ref of the outfit is here

#disney twst #twst wonderland #twst fanart #twst oc #twst #glorious masquerade #oc artist #ocs #my ocs #oc art #oc artwork #original character #original art

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dark-l-angel · 10 months ago

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if you want requests, I am so delulu, I'm stuck in my own world 24/7 and my brain refuses to stop.....

Jason, who growing up had a crush on reader, but being the clueless person we are we have no clue (I swear it's a curse, I genuinely don't know that someone is into me until they say it. No flirting computes with me) but then the whole- ya know, not living thing happens.... The thing that leads up to Red Hood (I refuse to say it) and reader is later confronted by either Dick or Alfred at the funeral and they're like

“You know he like you, right?” and readers response is

“Not as much as I loved him”

which I guess causes a whole sad thing that I can't cope with, so you decide what happens from there, but basically the ending is when Jason is not the scary evil Red Hood anymore but more the Jason people fantasize about, he tells reader how he feels and IDK man something cute and fluffy, my brain is just sad all the time so all I have is the sad stuff.

Anyways, this is a lot longer than I thought it would be, but here it is, please ignore it if it's weird or too much 😅

have a nice day, peace out ✌️

Princess, believe it or not i had hundreds of scenarios to this situation at fucking 5 a.m when i was ab to pass my bachelor exam *I'm talking math day 💀

And having your own world is nice actually.. ❤ at least you have an escape place from painful reality and ur comfort character is hugging you in your rough times. Hope happiness strikes you like jason's beauty did to me 😃💝 love u deeply 💖

Reunion

Jason todd x fem!reader

"You know that he liked you.. right?" Dick's voice ringed in your ear.. even after all this time.. it's like it happened yesterday..

Thinking while staring at a book jason used to read when you both were younger.. before.. that incident..

You put the book away and picked another, you shared the same love of books with jason, that explains why you become a loyal customer to libraries and coffee shops.

It was always a sad thing to go to libraries, yet it felt like happiness to you.. finally some freedom from this cruel world. You don't have to suffer through reading some simple lines with deep meanings.. in fact, it changed you 360 degrees, your vision to the world has changed since ever jason introduced you to the books.

You were walking around the library while hugging different books, looking carefully through the shelves of another chosen one, Losing all connections with your world, not feeling a specific guy staring at you in admiration.

Your eye fallen on an interesting novel, but it was on the top shelf. You tried to reach it but failed, and you got that idea of reaching it through another book was by your hand. You did, the novel is coming out, but still not enough, you had to put extra efforts by standing on the top of your toes.

"Too bad short angel can't reach her little novel" a tall handsome man was towering you from behind, you looked up and his eyes fell into yours, green emerald eyes inspecting your angelic features in admiration carefully *while you took your time to enjoy his mesmerizing gorgeous beauty like the little whore you and i will do*.

He smirked before looking back to the novel and pulling it out for you, gosh he was handsome, but.. you could swear you know him from somewhere.

He reads the title loud before saying "damn baby girl you've got some pretty good taste out there.. i like it" he smirked "oh thanks, I've always liked that type of stuff especially when *author name* added his pov of the topic.." he laughed.

As you both sat at a coffee shop and continued babbling ab different books to different subjects.. almost everything.. as if you actually know this person years ago, the problem was that you weren't the type to get comfy to people easily.. so what's the matter with this guy?.

Probably his smile that cached your mind? or his emerald eyes and their beauty? his funny jocks? Or it's your shared likings? Or the fact that he was the only person to be able to crack his way through your dead heart and plant a rose of adoration that was meant only for him? The only person to have the ability to warm your heart after all these years? Or him being the reason of your tears of laughter?... sooo much questions going through your head.

You finally managed to ask him.. " i feel like i know you from years, never had fun like this since then.. do i know you by any chance?" You said while wiping away the tears of laughing on his stories.

"You didn't recognize me y/n?" You didn't tell him your name yet.. how would he- "i missed you so much actually... i have been thinking about you in everything i was doing back then, dick might probably told you about it, yet i still do think about you all the time..." you watch the man goes on.. but dick? He spoke about jason only.. and jason is.. gone.. "you forget me y/n?" That can be..

He smiled staring at you in pure love and admiration and adoration.. "It's jason.. the dumb boy who fell dumber in love with you, angel ♡".

Hope you like it ❤ baby gurl was here 😘

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sizzlingcloudmentality · 1 month ago

Note

for the fic title ask game, could i give you: the taste of honey

Hi Jo! Of course you can give me that title, I absolutely love it. Because, believe it or not, there's a wip rotting away, with the title blood and honey. And now I get the chance to share my idea of a synesthesia!reader with the world, thanks to your ask 💛

the taste of honey

Meals taste differently now for a while. Better. "There's someone new working in the kitchen," a maid tells Oberyn after he inquired her. "She doesn't want to talk about it, but she can taste words."

What an odd talent to have, Oberyn thinks and invites you to his chambers, simply to learn more about this and you.

"You taste words, no?" Oberyn asks and plucks grape after grape from a bowl with fruit, offering you some on the plane of his palm.

You nod your head and take a grape and try to explain this weird thing you do since you can think. That words sometimes have colors or flavors or scents and sometimes all three. You stumble over your words, expecting Oberyn to laugh because everyone always laughs.

But he just tilts his head to the side, his lips puckered around another grape before he hums, still curious.

"What are my colors then, tell me, little kitchen helper."

"Light blue, like a summer's sky in the morning," you begin, your voice shy and shaky, even more so when Oberyn crooks a brow. But you continue: "Warm, golden yellow, like the sun and... A rich emerald green."

He looks at you, takes you in, asking himself if you're just telling some sort of story to get attention. But he can't help it, he feels flattered. Blue and yellow and green? A day in the gardens of Sunspear. A day under the trees by the beach. The colors of a true child of Dorne.

"And what flavor do I have?" Oberyn leans closer, his chin resting in his hand when he props his elbows onto the table. He smirks now, but it's not a mocking smirk. "Sweet? Or spicy?"

"Like smoke. And iron," you murmur and silently mouth his name to taste each syllable. "Blood orange."

He is basking in your words like a snake in the warmth of the sun. Oberyn plucks another grape and holds it out for you to take directly from his fingers.

"So I'm not sweet in your mouth?" He croons and your cheeks heat up under his smoldering eyes.

"No. But... Your voice," you mutter and reach out to take the grape from him. "Tastes like honey in my ears."

Yeah, no, I'm absolutely terrified writing for Oberyn. 😅 But I'm glad I could drabble up a little something. Sorry it took me so long, Jo, and thank you for sending this fic title.💛🙏🏻

made-up fic title drabbles

#asks #made-up fic title game #oberyn martell

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valentine-cafe · 1 month ago

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Would it be ok to ask for a rhubarb and strawberry crumble with a key lime pie? Male!Child!Reader, please!

So I'm not entirely sure if Talisen's lake has fish, so is it ok if we pretend that it has? 😅 Talisen has been noticing that the fish from his lake are starting to go missing, and thinking it was a human who's dumb enough to fish in the lake, he decides to catch them in the morning (since that's when the fish go missing, a lot)

Come to find out that it's a small snake-human hybrid catching the fish with his little bare hands, and he notices Talisen watching him catch fish, so he hands one to him, still a bit raw and alive. He finds out that Alessio's been having the same problem, except it's him finding traces of blood from the birds. Little reader is just eating his (cooked) fish happily (courtesy of Alessio, even though reader is a snake hybrid, he still has some human in him, so he can still get sick from eating raw meat) while the two rhytaari talk about what to do with the child.

Would that be ok to order? Thank you! I love your works btw, always a treat after a stressful day 🥰

˖⁺. ﹙ primordial husbands & male child snake hybrid reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . he's our son !! 🍒 : talisen: corrup snake god ˖ siren character ˖ alessio: corrupt god ˖ sorcerer﹙ verse 164 talisen & alessio. ﹚

the primordial rhytaari find you by the edge of the serpent god's lake and try to figure out where this child came from all of a sudden. Eventually deciding to just adopt you and give you a family and home

What were they going to do with you indeed?

They had wondered if anyone around the groves of the emerald woods had a lost child running the forest grounds, and with no adults around to make sure of their safety, you sure must've been in for a risky journey around depending how long you've been out like this.

But even so, they could not imagine you were someone of the forest necessarily. None travelled out of it's vicinity for many good reasons. Chances were you must have wandered in here in search for food and shelter, perhaps on the run from hunters and outside forces that felt disturbed by your features.

You sit and munch away at your cooked fish, eyes fixed on your food rather than the two, tall gods that have their attention on you in the midst of figuring out what their next step is.

"Surely we could take the kid in. Give him a home for the while until we've found where his parents are?" The sorcerer hums, contemplating the different possibilities and outcomes of the situation. Meanwhile, the snake god hands you another cooked fish that you happily take into your hands and eat.

No doubt it had been a hard few days for you to get some food, it was visible on your face and scrawny stature. "His guardians art no more, beloved." He sighs.

For that is all it takes, isn't it? One look and the search for the soul threads that created you, connected you to this ruthless realm and set you on a path of unpredictapalidty, have passed on long, long ago.

You don't even remember them. Your mother and father. Their smiles and coos to their son are memories that have long since faded, after you forgot their voices that had in a hurry yelled for you to run away and live.

Live you did indeed. And survive you continued to do. Despite the hardships of life.

Diverting your attention when your thoughts move aside, you look up at the tallest of the two. Blinking at him and handing a fish to him.

He bows to you and takes it, before using magic to duplicate it and share it with you. Chuckling at the pair of eyes that were already big enough widening and blinking sideways before blinking rapidly.

"He shall stay with us,"

Looking back at his husband, he smiles and nods for him to join him in crouching down for the boy to better look at them, "and we shall find a name for him."

#﹙ cupcake rush. ﹚: primordial husbands 𖹭 ݁#monster dads #monster oc #& reader #reader insert #alessio 164 #talisen 164 #asterism

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paintsplash1712 · 26 days ago

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Movieverse! AU Trism bon Cavalish

He’s finally finished! The next character for my Wicked movie AU, Trism, and I honestly didn’t realise how hard he was going to be. I haven’t read Son of a Witch (yet) but from what I know I thought he was going to be really easy and his young self was but his older? Oh boy!

But I’ll tell you his story in my AU since he’s different than book canon: he’s a Gillikin boy Liir meets while at school (haven’t decided if it’ll be university or secondary/high school), his family are farmhands and so has been around Animals & animals all his life, his favourites being dragons (though they are quite rare). The kid loved everything to do with them and wanted to be a dragon trainer when he grew up. Him and Liir bond over this fascination and become fast friends (and maybe more but Liir’s dating Candle at that time so it’s complicated). Cut to a few years later, Liir disappears and when he returns he finds a very different and very depressed Trism who, while has fulfilled his dream of being a trainer, has been manipulated by the Emperor (Shell) and believes Liir is a traitor to Oz and is conflicted on what to do when the two reunite. Don’t worry he gets over it.

(Design process under the cut)

So when designing Trism, I was having trouble with his pose, I knew I wanted to have him holding a book but for some reason I found it really hard to draw it right, so I found this website called pose my.art where I found the perfect references for both poses (and especially with his weapon because OMG why are guns so hard to draw?!) and it made the process so much faster!

Next thing I was having trouble with his colours, with the design I have for Tris, I didn’t want him to look too much like Glinda (with them both being blondes from the same place and have a similar dynamic to a Thropp family member) so I knew I couldn’t use blue or pink and so for a good few minutes I was going crazy looking for a good colour that’d fit. That was until @lillifaba helped me out with sending me some colour palettes for him and other book characters and it really helped. Having green in his design was a way of connecting him to the Emerald Guard but also Liir (who has green eyes and shirt) which is why I chose two different greens for his school and army versions. I also gave his school design glasses as a way to show his naivety and innocence (and also because he looks adorable).

I’m super happy with this design and I want to draw some art of him and Liir (and maybe other future characters) at a later date. I hope you guys like it too especially book fans.

Next will be Nor who I hope will be far easier 😅

#wicked #wicked book #son of a witch #wicked movie #Movieverse! Liir #Movieverse! AU #wicked au #trism bon cavalish #liir thropp #character design #art #wicked fanart #digital art #digital illustration

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moonlightstardemon · 4 months ago

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HYBRID RESERVATIN

Shark, Werewolf, Pantger x hybrid bird reader

This is my first post so please forgove any mistakes or of it's poor wrriten😅

Being a hybrid in the new world is hard. Some are forced into slavery, some are made pets. Humans see their sibling-species as a lower life form, and therefore treat them like one. You used to happily live out in the forest as an eighteen year old fox hybrid, smaller than most, but not quite a runt.

But a few days ago you were captured by large men in black uniforms. They carried large guns and barely spoke at all. You were transported to a holding cell where you were tested for aggressiveness and your overall health was checked. After determining that you would be fit for the large hybrid pens, you were guided through long white hallways and corridors until eventually reaching a large metal door. A few men in white coats with clipboards stand off to the side by a window you can’t see past.

The doors slide open with a beep, and you’re kicked into the room.

Hybrids of all sizes and species roam around the room, training in one area, relaxing in another. A few wolf hybrids recline in the middle, glancing your way when the doors slam shut. Looks like you’re trapped here.

You look around curiosly and you fly up and build a comfortabel nest for yourself and you curl it in

As you settle into your cozy little nest, you notice a few of the other hybrids eyeing you with interest. Thorne, the largest wolf hybrid, lets out a low growl and pads closer, his muscular frame towering over yours. His sharp teeth glint in the fluorescent lighting as he sniffs the air near you.

Ajax, the massive shark hybrid, swims lazily around his tank, occasionally breaching the surface to snap his powerful jaws. He seems more amused than threatening, but you know better than to underestimate him.

Kael, a sleek black panther, lounges nearby, his piercing green eyes fixed on you. He stretches languidly, his tail swishing back and forth. You get the feeling he might pounce if given the chance.

You look at Thorne Ajax and Kael as you smile and you wave at the three of them

Thorne's ears flatten against his head as he growls again, baring his teeth. He takes a step closer, his hot breath washing over you. It's clear he doesn't appreciate your friendly gesture.

Ajax, however, seems intrigued. He surfaces from the water and regards you with a curious expression, his sharp teeth gleaming. He tilts his head to the side, almost as if asking a question.

Kael remains still, his emerald gaze never leaving yours. He seems to be sizing you up, assessing whether you're worth approaching or not. After a moment, he rises to his feet and pads over to you, his movements fluid and graceful.

Once close enough, he leans down, his whiskers brushing against your face as he sniffs you.

You smile and chuckle as Kael's whiskers brush against your face

"Hey it tickles!"

Kael's ears perk up at your laughter, and he gives a soft chuff, clearly pleased by your reaction. He nuzzles your cheek gently before standing back up and regarding you with a curious expression.

Thorne, still looking grumpy, huffs and turns away, clearly uninterested in your attempts at friendliness. Ajax watches the interaction with rapt attention, his fins slicing through the water as he moves closer to the glass separating his enclosure from the rest of the room.

A scientist in a white coat approaches, clipboard in hand. He scans the room, his gaze landing on you and the hybrids surrounding you. With a nod, he makes a notation on his paper before moving on to observe the others.

It's clear that you've caught the attention of at least a few of the hybrids, and possibly the staff as well.

You look at the Scientist and smile as you hug him

"PAPA!"

It was true after all your mouther was a beautiful paradise bird whit little to no human features and him a human

You nuzzle his neck cause you missed him

The scientist freezes, his eyes widening in shock as you embrace him and call him "Papa". He stammers, trying to pull away from your affectionate nuzzle, but you hold tight.

Around you, the other hybrids watch the scene unfold with varying degrees of curiosity and alarm. Thorne growls low in his throat, while Kael's ears flatten against his head. Ajax simply observes, seemingly unconcerned by the sudden development.

After a moment, the scientist manages to extricate himself from your grasp, holding you at arm's length. He looks at you with a mix of surprise, concern, and something akin to fear.

"Sorry sweety that i have to put you in here, but bad humans are distroing the forests so i can not leave out there but..." He trails off, clearly struggling to process this revelation.

You look up at him and smile and kiss his cheek

"It's ok papa! I still love you papa!"

You let go off him and follow him around the enclouser curiosly

The scientist's cheeks flush red as he rubs the spot where you kissed him, clearly flustered by your display of affection. He glances around nervously, making sure none of the other staff members are witnessing this intimate moment.

"Ah, um, yes, well... Let's just focus on getting you settled in here for now, okay?" He leads you further into the enclosure, gesturing towards a small, enclosed area with a cot and a few personal belongings.

As you enter the space, you notice a few familiar items among the possessions: a stuffed animal, a book, and a photo album. It seems they brought some of your personal effects from home.

"The other hybrids will be joining you soon," the scientist explains, his voice still tinged with uncertainty. "In the meantime, I'll leave you to... acclimate."

"Alredy? But!-"

Before you can finish your sentence, the scientist hurries out of the enclosure, closing the door behind him with a firm click. You hear his footsteps receding down the hallway.

Left alone, you pace back and forth in your small quarters, feeling a growing sense of unease. The door locks automatically, trapping you inside. Outside, the sounds of the other hybrids continue - growls, chirps, splashes, and the occasional bark or meow.

Suddenly, there's a knock at the door, followed by a deep, rumbling voice. "Hey, sweetheart. Open up."

You recognize the tone immediately. It's Thorne, the gruff wolf hybrid who seemed so hostile earlier. Despite your reservations, a part of you can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at his words.

You smile and open the door

"Thorne!"

Thorne steps into your quarters, his imposing figure filling the small space. He closes the door behind him and leans against it, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"Well, well, well... Look what we got here," he says, his voice dripping with a mix of amusement and predatory interest as his gaze roams over your petite form. "Seems like our little bird has a thing for big, bad wolves."

He takes a step closer, his height and bulk making you feel tiny and vulnerable. Yet, despite the intimidating aura he exudes, there's an undeniable allure to his rugged appearance and confident demeanor.

"So, what's a sweet thing like you doing in a place like this, hmm?" Thorne's warm breath washes over your face as he looms over you, his proximity both thrilling and unnerving.

"I don't know papa sayed i will be liveing here since the other bad humans destryed almost most of the forests"

You say and fly up your nest and look down at him

"Honestly it's better in here i'm safe it's warm i have food"

Thorne chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrates through the air. He pushes off the door and follows your gaze upwards, his eyes tracking your flight to the nest.

"Oh, is that so?" He questions, his tone laced with skepticism as he studies you perched high above. His gaze is intense, almost piercing, as if trying to read your thoughts.

"Well, I suppose it's understandable, given the circumstances," he concedes, his voice softer now. "But don't think for a second that just because you're safe here, you won't catch my eye."

With that, Thorne begins to undress, revealing his powerful physique bit by bit. His muscles ripple beneath his skin as he sheds his clothing, until he stands before you completely naked, his arousal already evident.

"I'm not like those other humans, sweetheart,"

"I know your a werewolf right?"

Thorne smirks, his sharp canines glinting in the light as he nods. "That's right, baby girl. Full-blooded lupine. And when the moon rises, I transform into a beast unlike any other."

He takes a step closer to the edge of your nest, his eyes gleaming with a primal hunger as he stares up at you. "Imagine being taken by a creature of myth and legend... A wild, untamed force that can't be tamed."

Thorne's massive hands grip the edge of your perch, his fingers brushing against your feathers as he leans in, his hot breath washing over your face once more. "Would you like that, little one? To be claimed by a monster like me?"

His words are a provocative challenge, daring you to submit to his primal desire. You tilt your head quiet oblivious

"Your not a monster

Your just like everybody else you eat you sleep you dream you need a mate

Oh witch reminds me why there are little to no females here?

I mean i saw a few but only thouse that have mates alredy inrest i didn't see any other singel female?"

Thorne's expression darkens at your question, his eyes narrowing as he releases the edge of your nest and takes a step back. "You're right about needing a mate, sweetheart. We hybrids are driven by instinct, especially when it comes to finding a compatible partner."

He runs a hand through his hair, his jaw clenched in thought. "As for the lack of single females, well... Let's just say the scientists here have certain... preferences when it comes to breeding stock."

Thorne's gaze turns calculating, his attention shifting from you to the closed door of your quarters. "But that doesn't mean there aren't opportunities for a clever bird like yourself. If you play your cards right, you might just find yourself mated to one of us sooner rather than later."

He winks, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Well dad sayed i can chouse actuly since i'm the child of a scientist i can chouse"

You say as you play whit my stuffed toy that was a teddybear gifted by ypur father and mouther

Thorne's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at your declaration, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Is that so? Well, well, well... Looks like our little princess has some clout after all."

He saunters closer, his movements fluid and predatory, as if sizing you up like prey. "So, which one of us do you think would make the perfect mate, hmm? Maybe you'd fancy a strong, dominant alpha like myself..."

Thorne reaches out, his calloused fingers grazing your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. "...or perhaps you'd prefer someone a bit more... refined, like Ajax over there?"

He jerks his head toward the shark hybrid's enclosure, where the sleek predator circles its tank with a hungry gleam in its eye.

You look at him curiosly then you see him swim throu a tub and in to the lake in your enclouser that aperently has a tube conected to his enclouser

"Hey Ajax!"

You smile and wave then you hear some noises up there and you see Kael somehow fiting in a hole to your enclouser and you look up at him and smile

"Hey Kael!"

Kael grins down at you, his angular features illuminated by the soft glow emanating from the aquarium walls. He's surprisingly agile, easily navigating the narrow access tunnel to reach your enclosure.

"Hey there, cutie," he greets, his voice smooth as silk. "Looks like you've got quite the view up there, huh?"

Kael leans against the glass, his lean frame casting a long shadow across the water below. His eyes, a mesmerizing blend of blue and green, hold yours captive as he speaks.

"You know, I've been watching you, Ariana. Ever since they brought you here, I've been fascinated by your spirit, your fire. It's rare to find someone as bold and beautiful as you in this place."

He tilts his head, studying you intently.

"Do you need help to get out of that hole-"

You see him lazily slip throu the hole and on to a branch clouse to you lazily laying on it

"Guess not

Also i didn't know there was a tube conecting your and mine enclousers Ajax"

Ajax chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that resonates through the water as he floats effortlessly near the glass separating your enclosures. "Nope, don't need any help getting around. Just gotta know how to use these tubes and tunnels to my advantage."

He gives a lazy flick of his tail, sending ripples through the clear liquid surrounding him. "And yeah, the scientists set up these connections between the enclosures. Makes things... interesting, wouldn't you say?"

Ajax's gaze drifts over to Kael, who's still perched on the branch beside you, before returning to meet your eyes once more. "So, what do you think of our little setup here, Ariana? Pretty cozy, huh?"

"Mhm!"

You smile as your bird tail mouves hapily catching Thorne's Jael's and Ajax's attention that you are in a good mode

Thorne and i were talking about mateing! I got lucky since my father is a scientist here i can chouse whit who i mate whit!

"I can chouse from the hybrids in this enclouser to the human scientist! Althou none of the humans have caught my attention

Plus i like to fly a lot so i would need a hybreed mate that keeps up whit my speed!"

Thorne's ears perk up at your announcement, a wide grin spreading across his face as he strides closer to the glass. "Well now, isn't that something? Our little princess gets to pick her own mate!"

He leans in, his reflection distorted by the curved surface of the enclosure as he fixes you with a heated stare. "And let me tell you, sweetheart, I'd be more than happy to keep up with you. In every sense of the word."

Thorne's paw reaches out, tracing the outline of your form through the glass as if attempting to touch you. "Just imagine it - soaring through the skies together, free and wild, with nothing but the wind rushing past us. And when we return to this place, I'll show you just how much I can satisfy your needs."

Ajax and Kael had to interfire as possibel suiters

Kael chimes in, his melodic voice carrying an undercurrent of competition as he addresses you. "Now hold on a second, Thorne. Don't go promising things you can't deliver."

He hops off the branch, landing gracefully on the floor of your enclosure, his lithe form moving with feline agility. Kael approaches you slowly, his mismatched eyes locked onto yours. "I may not have wings, Ariana, but I assure you, I can keep pace with you in my own way. My reflexes are lightning-fast, and my stamina is... unmatched."

A sly smirk plays at the corners of his mouth as he continues "Plus, I can offer you experiences that Thorne never could. A different kind of thrill, if you catch my drift."

Then Ajax chimens in not wanting to louse in this compettion

Ajax's powerful tail swishes through the water, creating small waves that lap against the glass as he addresses you, his deep voice tinged with amusement and something darker, more primal. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of leaving you ladies to sort this out alone. Where's the fun in that?"

He propels himself towards the connecting tube, his muscular body gliding effortlessly through the water until he emerges in your enclosure, droplets cascading off his sleek skin. Ajax rises to his full height, towering over both you and Kael, his presence commanding and undeniably.

"Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once," he growls, his eyes flashing with intensity as they bore into yours. "I don't care about keeping pace or offering thrills. What I can give you is raw, unbridled passion."

Thorne, Ajax and Kael bouth look at you waiting to see who will you chouse out of the three of them

So dear reader who will you chouse? A panther? A Shark? Or a werewolf?

I might make a part 2 maybe

#monster x reader #yandere x reader #yandere shark boy x reader #yandere werewolf x reader #yandere panther x reader

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a-world-of-whimsy-5 · 6 months ago

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hi!! I have a request, if it hasn't already been taken, for kinktober! Maybe a Feanor x AFAB reader and age difference/first time?? I was thinking that maybe she's his apprentice in the forge and though he didn't like her at first, he grows a liking to her. However, he feels a little guilty due to her being the same age as Maedhros (I'll let you decide what to do with Nerdanel 😅). Maybe they're working really late night and he finally snaps? Anyways, thank you!! Your writing is so awesome and I can't wait to read all your kinktober fics!! ❤️

I hope you like this!

"Arrangement"

Pairing: Fëanáro x Fem (18+ AFAB) reader

Themes: SMUT/NSFT

Wordcount: 3.8K

Summary: After an outburst, Fëanáro makes a stunning confession while the two of you are alone in the forge.

Minors DNI | 18+

Fëanáro stood right behind you, his arms on his hips. “Take care when bending the prongs, y/n,” he cautioned sternly. “Gold so pure can twist and break very easily.”

“Of course, my lord,” you replied. Your attention never left the ring resting in its stand, nor did your hands shake while you bent each prong, slowly and carefully, over a flawless green emerald. Still, it proved to be a most daunting task. The gold was still warm and quite malleable, you had never crafted anything this fine before, and Fëanáro insisted on peering over your shoulder. That unnerved you far more than even the precious object taking shape beneath your hands. The firstborn son of Finwë never seemed to think highly of you or your skills as an apprentice smith. He never fully revealed the extent of his dislike of you, but you still saw it in his less-than-pleased eyes, and you heard it in the harsh bite in his voice. Perhaps, by doing well with this new craft, you would be able to please him for once.

The ring was now complete. Fëanáro circled around you, picked it up as gently as he would a delicate leaf, and held it to a nearby lamp, turning it this way and that within the light. His body was stiff, as it always was whenever he was around you. Nevertheless, he regarded the ring intently. As of this moment, he could perceive no discernible flaw.

“This will do,” he murmured, placing the ring upon a smooth marble slab resting on the workbench. The gold will cool soon. Then it would be presented to the one who desired it made, a noblewoman who wished to offer it as a courtship gift. “You may put away your tools and go home now, y/n.”

A sliver praise was better than no praise, especially from an elf as skilled as he. “Thank you, my lord,” you said, rising.

The ritual of setting the forge to rights was second nature to you now. Tools were returned to their proper places in shelves and drawers and racks. Your belt and gloves you hung on hooks driven into the wall, and your apron also. Fëanáro saw to the dousing of the furnace fire while you occupied yourself with dusting the workbenches, closing the shutters, and sweeping the floor. No one besides him or those equally skilled at the task were allowed to do so.

“Everything is as it should be,” you remarked after placing the broom in its little cupboard. The forge was now as neat and clean as it could be, but perhaps there was something you did not think of doing. “Is there aught else for me to do?”

Fëanáro did not turn to face you. He kept facing the furnace instead. “None, y/n,” he replied curtly. “You may leave now. In fact, I insist that you do.”

His tone gave you pause. “Have I displeased you, my lord?” You asked, glancing back over your shoulder. The ring gleamed upon the marble slab, its jewel burning like green fire. “Is the ring actually not to your liking?”

The elf’s back stiffened. “Please, leave.”

“My lord,” you said, stepping toward him, “I…”

“Get out!” Fëanáro roared, frightening you into taking a step back.

“Of course, my lord,” you mumble and turn in your haste to leave. “My pardons, my lord. I did not mean to anger you so.”

The doors seemed so far away, even when all it took was a few quick strides to reach them. Yet reach for them you did, your fingers fumbling with the heavy doorknobs and the heavier doors. They were always left this way for Fëanáro did not care for distractions, except for those presented by his wife or sons. The others were allowed entry only if they came on a matter of importance. If not, they were sent away.

So intent were you on trying to pull them open that you did not hear footsteps coming toward you, nor did you see the tall shadow falling across heavy oak adorned with silver and gold. A large hand fell over your hand, hindering you from unlocking the doors.

“Forgive me for shouting,” Fëanáro said. He was so close you could feel his breath against your hair. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

Fëanáro asking for forgiveness from anyone who was not his wife, his children, or even his father, was a rare thing. You swallowed and held onto your courage. You needed it for what you were about to say next.

“Why are you always displeased with me, my lord?” you inquired. The hand over yours trembled, and then it fell away. You turned around and looked up at your teacher. “Am I not good enough to serve as your apprentice?”

”You are worthy,” Fëanáro returned. His face was a mask; it gave nothing away. “You may be too spirited for your own good, but you have skill. I can see it in the ring you just made.”

“Is that a bad thing, my lord,” you said, your curiosity piqued, “being too spirited?”

“It can be, when you are in the forge.” Fëanáro reached out and lifted your braid. His fingers brushed over the silk ribbon adorning your hair. “There are many dangers present in places such as this y/n, dangers novices such as yourself do not easily see. It can blind you to them, and lead you to harm. It can also stop you from being all you could truly be.”

“Then why did you shout at me?”

“I needed you to leave. I still need you to leave. Please do not ask me to tell you why.”

He turned sharply on his heel and walked away, dimming the lamps while he did so. And, despite his plea—despite being gratified that you did not fail as an apprentice—you followed him. You needed to know why he touched your hair the way he did and why he needed you to be gone. Perhaps it was unwise to go after him in this fashion, but you believed you had no other choice.

“You must tell me, my lord,” you implored, trying to keep up with him. “Please tell me. Perhaps I can help you.”

“I cannot,” Fëanáro told you. He walked to the back of the forge, where a chamber made just for him lay. It was where he devised his newest creation, or where he went when he desired a few moments to rest and free himself from the weariness of his labors before returning to his family. “Please, y/n. I cannot tell you.”

“I am sorry, my lord,” you began, “but if you could just tell me what it is that is troubling you, perhaps I can—”

Fëanáro gave you no time to finish speaking. He muttered an oath, whirled around, gathered you into his arms, and kissed you. His kiss was full of fire and hunger, and it was so powerful it left you lightheaded and dizzy.

“This is why I shouted at you.” Fëanáro stepped back, his gray eyes now uncommonly dark. “This is why I wanted you to leave. Now do you understand, y/n?”

His confession stunned you. “You are already wed!” you exclaimed, horrified by what happened. If word reached the others, your reputation and his would be ruined. “You have a wife, my lord, and children!”

“Yes,” Fëanáro said. “My children. You are of an age as Nelyafinwë. So young.”

“And your wife?” You demanded. “What of Lady Nerdanel? She will not take kindly to an intruder upon her marriage.”

“Do not fear my lady’s wrath.” Fëanáro smiled. It was the same arrogant, satisfied smile he wore whenever he knew something was in his favor. “For it was she who perceived my desire for you long before I did so myself. She will bear you no ill will. In fact, my lady asks, no, insists, that I invite you to join us, should you wish to do so, that is. She desires you also.”

You shook your head, unwilling to believe a word. “How do I know you are not uttering falsehoods, my lord? Others have done the same to convince a reluctant companion to share their bed.”

“I can show you, if that is what you wish.” Fëanáro extended his hand, his smile never leaving his lips. Many a maiden, and more than a few lords, deemed his smile a powerful weapon. Only a rare few could resist the spell it laid upon others. “Take my hand and open your thoughts to me, y/n. You will see that I am not uttering falsehoods.”

You closed your eyes and did as you were bid, your curiosity overcoming your fear. Fëanáro’s hand was large and warm, and still smooth despite a long life of crafting and wielding heavy tools. It did not tremble this time; it was unwavering instead.

Memories that were not your own rushed at you like a flood. You breathed deeply and remembered your teachings. You sought the memories you were meant to see: Fëanáro standing in the shadows, watching you contend with molten iron while jesting with another elf. He was visibly exasperated by your conduct, but he was also afraid for your safety. Fëanáro appeared again, this time smiling to himself as he watched you present Tyelkormo with a blunted dagger crafted to fit an elfling’s hands, and then he laughed quietly when you chased Tyelkormo around the forge in a desperate attempt to stop him from using it on an unsuspecting elf. Fëanáro then appeared a third time. In this memory, his eyes followed your every step like a lover’s would.

“You yearn for y/n, my love,” Nerdanel said in the vision that appeared after the others. She and her husband were alone, breaking their fast on porridge and honey and little fish roasted to crackling. Bowls of apples and pears and berries stood amidst them. Every other aspect of the chamber was shrouded in swirling shadows. “I cannot fault you for that, truly. Y/n is quite skilled, and she certainly draws the eye. Have you spoken to her?”

“I have not,” Fëanáro sputtered, much to his wife’s amusement. He made no attempt to conceal his feelings; he knew Nerdanel would be insulted if he did. “I will not betray you, my love. I will not approach another for companionship.”

“What if I were to give you my blessing? Will you approach y/n then?”

“Why would you even suggest such a notion?”

“Because I can,” Nerdanel declared, beaming and spreading her fair hands. “And because, much like you, I find myself desiring your apprentice also. Perhaps we can all come to an arrangement of our liking.”

“But she is so young,” Fëanáro confessed. Nerdanel’s hearty consent and willingness to partake pleased him in a way he could not describe, but he still hesitated. Your young years had to be considered. “Y/n is the same age as Nelyo. You and I could very well be her firsts. The prospect of bedding you and I together may frighten her.”

“That is indeed true,” Nerdanel agreed. She steepled her fingers beneath her chin and lost herself in thought. After a while, she spoke again. “Here is what I propose you do.”

Suddenly, the memory of husband and wife talking and conspiring disappeared like a mist burning away in the sun. Fëanáro shrouded his thoughts and brought you back to the here and now. “Do you believe me now, y/n?”

“Yes.” There was no denying the matter; Fëanáro was indeed speaking the truth. “But to lay with you and her both…I do not know how I could even think of such a thing, my lord.”

“I understand,” Fëanáro said, his hand still in yours. “Which is why my lady proposed you and I become… better acquainted with each other first. Later, you can share her bed. And of course, the both of us after that.”

“I see.” You flushed from cheek to chest when Fëanáro knitted his fingers around yours and drew you closer. “But if this is what you seek, and your lady consents to us laying together, why did you try to chase me away before?”

“You are of an age as Nelyo, y/n,” Fëanáro reminded you. He reached out and caressed your hair, your cheek. Your throat went dry when he ran his thumb across your lips. “You are young, despite having already come of age. You should be with those your age, instead of cleaving to one as long-lived as me. It did not feel right.”

You looked up at him through your lashes. The sight of it made his breath hitch. “And what if I say yes, my lord? What then?”

Fëanáro flashed a wicked grin. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Then you will be given no cause to repine. Pray what is your decision, my lady?”

You looked around his arm. The door to his chamber was behind him. If you said yes, if you agreed to what was suggested, there would be no turning back. Still, the thought of having an elf as skilled as Fëanáro, and later, his wife, bedding you, proved to be too tempting to resist in the end.

“My answer is yes, my lord,” you said at length.

Fëanáro turned around and pushed open the door to his chamber. “Have you been intimate with another elf in any fashion?”

“Kisses, my lord,” you said truthfully and walked in after him. His chamber was simple yet elegantly adorned. Besides a soft and inviting bed, there was a hearth at the other end with a cheerful fire already laid. A chair had been placed before it, and a little table beside it. Cups and golden pitchers rested on top of it. A tapestry hung on one wall, uncommonly ornate and richly embellished. It must have been the work of Lady Miriel, no doubt, before she perished. “And an embrace or two. Nothing more than that.”

Fëanáro led you to the edge of the bed. “Sit down, y/n, and make yourself more at ease. Would you like some wine to drink? Or Miruvórë, perhaps?”

“Miruvórë, my lord,” you said, bending down to remove your boots. It felt wonderful to be rid of them, even for a little while. “I do not care much for wine.”

Fëanáro nodded and crossed over to the table. “Then I shall serve you.”

The cup pressed into your hand was hewn out of crimson crystal and cold to the touch. The libation it held was cold also, and a pale, fragrant gold. You felt refreshed after the first sip alone.

“I still cannot believe it,” you said, nursing your cup. Fëanáro sat beside you, closer than he would have done before. His thigh brushed against yours. It sent a welcome shiver up your spine. “The renowned prince Fëanáro and his wife desire me for a shared companion. They want me to share their bed. The others would be amazed if they heard.”

“But they cannot hear,” Fëanáro said. He drained his cup in three quick swallows and set it down by his feet. “There are others who have arrangements like what my lady proposed, but they are not spoken of often. Not everyone understands.”

“Of course,” you drained your cup and set it down. Your stomach was a roil. Fëanáro would take you into his arms soon. Already, you could feel his eyes on you. “How do we begin, my lord?”

“Like this.” Fëanáro tilted your chin toward him, compelling you to look at him. Then he closed his eyes and pressed his lips to yours.

His kisses were unlike the others you had before. They were heated and commanding, and far from the clumsy, hesitant kisses you were used to. Fëanáro did not restrain himself either. He held you to him, sliding his arm around your waist and growling triumphantly when you clutched desperately at the collar of his tunic and returned his kiss with equal fire. His free hand wandered. It loosened the ribbon in your hair and carded through the locks that spilled free. It moved lower still, to loosen the lace of your tunic. Goosprickles rose all over your limbs when linen fell away and that same nimble hand came to rest over your breast.

“Has anyone touched you like this before?” Fëanáro husked. He pinched your nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it began to throb. Then he dipped his head to taste.

“No, my lord,” you panted, throwing your head back when teeth bruised your tender skin. Fëanáro pulled at one nipple and then the other, lightly at first and then more insistently, before his lips and tongue took a turn. Each sensation that followed was wholly new, and each of them made you feel even more warm, feverish, and lustful than before. “Not like this.”

“Just so.”

Fëanáro straightened. He helped you out of your tunic and threw it to the floor. He moved to the floor himself, slipping off the bed and settling on his knees between your spread legs. He set himself to the task of undoing the belt and clasps going down your breeches, and when he asked you to lift your hips, you did so, watching as the last of your clothes were disposed of without ceremony. Now you sat before him, completely exposed and unable to discern what he would do next. The answer became plain when he lowered his head to the apex between your thighs.

“Is this what you imagined doing to me, my lord?” You teased, bolder than even before. You brushed your hand over his hair, carefully loosening ribbons and braids. Fëanáro quivered when the tips of your fingers grazed over his scalp. “Or do you imagine your lady doing this to me while you watched?”

Fëanáro grunted and ran the flat of his tongue against your slit, again and again. Your body shook. Inflamed, you took your words even further.

“Or perhaps you wish to do more than just watch.” Never had you been this brazen before. Then again, never had you been with a companion like Fëanáro before. You made the most of it. You knew you had to. You did not know how long your arrangement with him and his lady would last. “Is that it, my lord? Do you wish to do more than just watch while Nerdanel and I cleave to each other?”

Fëanáro moaned softly. He gripped your hip to steady you, and he moved his other hand lower to free himself from the confines of his raiment. Soon, he was fisting his cock.

“My lady was right to counsel me to approach you.” Fëanáro reluctantly ceased what he was doing and rose. “And now I must ask you to move further up and lay on your back. There is more I crave to do to you, y/n.”

The hush that briefly settled over the room was broken with the rustling of silk and linen and leather. Fëanáro undressed himself, his eyes never leaving yours. You drank in every line that met your gaze, overwhelmed by the thought that every aspect of his would be yours caress however you wished. When you finally moved further up the bed, Fëanáro joined you and moved up with you. When he lowered his head, you welcomed him with open arms. His kisses were languid this time, and all the sweeter. He propped himself on his elbow and stayed still while you ran your hands through his hair, down his chest, and over his thighs. Every inch of him you discovered was flawless. It was as if he was hewn by the skilled hands of the finest cratfsman.

“I must thank your lady when I am with her,” you whispered. “Only through her was all of this made possible.”

“I will gladly arrange a meeting.” Fëanáro smiled and brushed his lips over yours. He slipped his hand around your back to raise your hips. It encouraged you to loop your arms around his broad shoulders and spread your legs for him. “For now, let me think of just you and me.”

He pressed the tip of his length against your entrance, teasing you with gentle, shallow thrusts. It felt so good, but you knew there would be so much more. Fëanáro then pushed deeper and deeper, sinking his shaft further and further within the velvety confines of your body. When he breached you fully and sank home, pain lanced through you like a knife. Fëanáro went still when you whined, and he whispered words of praise to soothe you.

“Does it feel good?” He finally said, his voice full of concern. “Should I continue?”

“Yes, my lord,” you breathed. There was so much of him; you did not comprehend how big truly was until now, or how wonderful he felt. “Go on. Please.”

No more words were said. They were, in your opinion, no longer needed. Fëanáro chased his release while taking you to yours. He drove into you with wild abandon, making you gasp every time he ground his hips against the insides of your thighs. The feel of your nails marring his body and the sounds of your pleasure ringing around the once peaceful room made him forget all sense of himself.

“Oh, sweetling!” Fëanáro cried, unable to hold back any longer. "Oh, by the Valar.”

He did not stop, not even as he came and emptied himself of his spend. He took you over the peak and tumbled you over the edge, calling out your name as your own climax crashed over you. And it was your name that he called out. Just yours. Oh, there would be other occasions when your name and his lady’s would leave his lips, but for now, yours was all he uttered. You reared up, kissing him deeply even while he fucked you through your orgasm. Your nails dug into his flesh, marring him. Then everything went still, and he finally stopped moving.

The hearth at the other end was the first to become clear when you opened your eyes, then the room and the bed, and then Fëanáro himself. His chest was still heaving, and his lustrous dark hair had fallen all around him in a beautifully tousled mess. Its ends tickled you when it brushed against your torso.

“I am crushing you,” he said, and rolled off you. When he settled comfortably on his back, he held out his arm. It was an invitation for you to rest against him. “Now tell me, y/n. Do you still wish to continue with the arrangement my lady devised?”

“I do, my lord, very much so.” You inched closer and settled against the crook of his arm. A dreamy sigh parted your lips when Fëanáro moved onto his side, threw his arms around you, and kissed your brow. “I will gladly continue with the arrangement.”

“That is good then,” he said. “Rest for now. I will help you bathe and clean yourself afterward.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #fëanor #fëanor x reader #x reader #reader insert #reader insert request #fëanor smut #the silm #the silm smut

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