#his home

[janesurlife]

French baldman could never

[companionjones]

His Home

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse

Summary: Miguel has some morning sex with you before he must go back home.

Warnings: SMUT, Miguel is cheating, but not on you, Cursing

*******

    Miguel doesn’t spend so much time at home anymore. He’s lying to himself calling it that at this point. No, his home now is whatever room you are in.

    He blinks his eyes open to see your back bathed in the morning light. He reaches a hand out to touch you, to shuffle himself closer under the blankets.

    You wake with a small sound. “You should leave, Miguel,” you remind him.

    Of course, you’re right.

    He’s spent the whole weekend with you. It’s Monday morning now, and he should really be getting back to his other life--his ‘real’ life.

    “Inaminite,” he says as he pulls you close and buries his face in your neck.

    You giggle at the contact, and tangle fingers in his hair to keep him there. You even expose your neck more to him, and press your backside against his groin, resulting in Miguel growing hard. You give a little moan.

    Miguel separates his face from you to take a moment to look at you.

    You turn towards him to give him full view of you.

    Miguel feels his eyelids grow heavy as he leans down to kiss you. He turns you so you are laying on your back with him on top of you. He takes a break from your lips to travel down your neck, your chest, then your stomach, finally reaching his destination at your cunt.

    You whisper his name.

    He loves when you say his name like that, with just a bit of an accent. He moans against you.

    You gasp.

    Miguel latches onto you like you’re his only source of oxygen while he’s deep under the ocean and you whimper. He caresses your leg as his tongue plunges inside of you and you shout out a moan. Miguel continues to jackhammer his tongue in and out of you and you whine at each movement. Eventually, he adds his other hand in on the action, and you scream.

    You’re cumming against him before you even say anything, and Miguel doubts that you’re fully mentally present when he crawls up to meet you again. “You ready for me, cariño?”

    Vaguely, you nodded.

    Miguel kisses you once, twice.

    Heatedly, you whisper, “-iguel,” as he parts from you. You give a long moan as he fills you completely.

    Miguel makes love to you like yo’re the most precious thing in the world. Your breath mixes with his as he pulls himself in and out of you.

    That’s how it starts out, anyway. What it turns into is skin slapping against skin and you holding onto Miguel for dear life as his animalistic grunts fill the room.

    He’s filling you and you’re cumming around him as you cry out and Miguel growls.

    Your chests are heaving against each other as Miguel pulls out. He leaves you for only a few moments as he fetches a damp cloth from the bathroom. Miguel gently cleans the two of you. When he’s finished, he’s kneeling on the floor on the side of the bed, just staring at the beauty of you.

    He thinks to himself, for a moment, about how he wishes his life could be. He wishes he could come home to you everyday. He wishes he didn’t have to divide his time between you and another woman.

    There is only one thing keeping Miguel from making his wishes a reality. That was the child he had with this other woman. That little girl is the only thing that rivals his love for you.

    He would never change a thing about that little girl, but sometimes he wishes she came out of you instead of some other woman.

    “Miguel.” Your voice brought him out of his thoughts.

    “Mi amor?”

    You combed some hair out of his face with your fingers. “You have to go.”

    “I know, mi corazón,” he conceded, “Te amo.” Miguel kisses the side of your head and stands.

    He is dressed and out the door within five minutes. Now, he must go back home.

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, I have more fics over on my page. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[wiirocku]

John 1:14 (NLT) - So the Word became human and made His home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. And we have seen His glory, the glory of the Father’s One and only Son.

[theolikeworld]

[stupidthoughtsinwriting]

Which should i work on?

since the fix of this blasted laptop of mine, looking at my wips, I'm overwhelmed by the sheer amount i have and i'm starting to feel like a headless chicken, not knowing which to work on. now taking the publics opinion, here's a poll on a few wips i'm interested on tackling and just pick whichever your most interested in

if you lot have any req's or idea's on what i could write, by all means, just send it to me

p.s. i may be a tad partial to dae at the moment soo... do with that what you will

[lafdbitch]

escaping to eddie’s house exactly !!!

[foundgirlpigeon]

NEW EPISODE OF IRUMA REALLY SAID ALICE IS A FAGGOT. HE LOVES IRUMA SO MUCH

[acherys]

It's not something he really dwells on, but I think never visiting Tirisfal or the Undercity would be a painful thought to Zoen. Capital City was his home until Arthas razed it, and he's always considered himself a child of Lordaeron.

Connected to that, I don't think she would ever join a fight against the Undercity, be it to hunt down Putress or during Battle for Azeroth. She would hate the idea of a violent homecoming. It's too similar to her father! The only circumstance terrible enough to convince her to go murderously into those tunnels would be for Koltira's rescue.

[stateofdreaming14]

Wei Ying coded post tbh

You know, when I see fictional characters who repress all their emotions, they're usually aloof and very blunt about keeping people at a distance, sometimes to an edgy degree—but what I don't see nearly enough are the emotionally repressed characters who are just…mellow.

Think about it. In real life, the person that's bottling up all their emotions is not the one that's brooding in the corner and snaps at you for trying to befriend them. More often than not, it's that friendly person in your circle who makes easy conversation with you, laughs with you, and listens and gives advice whenever you're upset. But you never see them upset, in fact they seem to have endless patience for you and everything around them—and so you call them their friend, you trust them. And only after months of telling them all your secrets do you realize…

…they've never actually told you anything about themselves.

[brightlotusmoon]

[sabertoothwalrus]

girldad mode activate

[ideas-ideasideasideas]

Batman gives each of his Robins a different code to use when they’re in trouble and need immediate extraction. He promises that when they call, he’ll drop everything just to get to them, come hell or high water.

Jason, during his time with the League, shares his code with Damian, to be used “only in the direst of circumstances, when you have exhausted all other options.” He doesn’t know if Bruce will answer, given how fractured their relationship was before he died, but it is better than nothing. Every tool counts when they live such dangerous lives.

Damian uses it exactly once, and Bruce, who still feels the loss of his son like a yawning chasm in his chest, responds to it even though he knows it can’t be Jason because Jason’s dead. What he finds, instead of Jason, is a boy in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-small feet, with a face that Bruce sees himself and Talia in, requesting asylum from a grandfather who wishes to possess his body. Bruce doesn’t question how this boy who is so clearly his son knew the code. Talia al Ghul is resourceful and places family above all; the code is not beyond her abilities to discover, and she is not above using Bruce’s desperate love for his dead son to ensure that hers does not meet the same fate.

Bruce takes Damian in, because of course he does, and since Jason is dead he allows Damian to keep using the code. After all, it’s not like Jason is alive to use it, right? If someone uses the code, there’s no one it could be but Damian, right?

The next time the code is used, Bruce traces the location to Gotham even though Damian was supposed to be in Bludhaven visiting Dick. But whatever happened that resulted in Damian being in Gotham can wait, because he has already failed one son and he will not fail another, his son is in trouble and he needs to get to him, he needs to—

What he finds, instead of Damian, is a boy (just eighteen, too young, but also too old, but also he will always be a boy to him) in League garbs, drenched in blood from the tips of his midnight-black hair to his too-large feet (when had he gotten so big), wearing the face of his dead son.

(Who, maybe, just maybe, may no longer be so dead.)

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

historical drama/sitcom where two gay best friends (woman and man) get lavender married--and proceed to spend the Fancy European Honeymoon their parents paid for acting as each other's wingman

[doctorsiren]

Gravity Falls AU where everything is exactly the same except Bill’s parents are alive and well, and they’re just so proud of their chaotic dream demon son

[hansoeii]

we go just right.

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)