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#i struggle a lot with drawing clothes that look right

halsteadlover · 4 months

Text

𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝

*Gif and pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!Reader.

• Requested: no.

• Summary: Lando always has a hard time trying to keep his hands off you, not even while attending an important event.

• Warnings: dirty talking, lots of swearing, oral sex (m. receiving), semi public sex.

• Word count: 2453.

• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE +18. This was supposed to be like a 700 words piece but I’m incapable to write short fics but y’all know this by now lmao. I hope you like this piece, I was inspired to write for Lando so here it is. Please comment, like and reblog, it’d be amazing ❤️ Thank you for your support xx

You were going crazy.

His hand continued to caress your exposed thighs beneath the table, his expert fingers drawing imaginary circles on your hot skin.

They went up along your inner thigh, until they almost caressed your private parts, but before touching you as you desired, his fingers descended back down, leaving you even more irritated and lustful than before.

Asshole.

“God I want you so much baby, you have no idea how much I want to tear this dress off of you,” he whispered in your ear so sensually it made your insides explode, causing a rush of shivers down your spine and made you clench your legs.

“I can’t stop thinking about how wet you must be right now, how easily you’d suck my dick in your sweet little cunt. I’m so hard just thinking about it.” He gave a cast kiss on your flushed cheek, making you choke on the champagne you were drinking and gaining weird and worried looks from the people around the table.

Holy fuck.

You were in fact at the annual FIA gala, the event swarming with famous people, all the drivers with their respective partners but even so Lando didn’t seem to care less.

He was only focused on you, forgetting his surroundings.

He needed to touch you, always, constantly. He needed to feel you, to always have a hand on your body.

And how could anyone blame him?

Lando couldn’t normally keep his hormones at bay but seeing you in that damn dress with that slit, he could barely function and take his eyes off of you. He pretended to have a conversation with Carlos, but in reality he wasn’t listening to a single word his teammate was saying, being too focused on keeping his hard dick at bay.

He tried to hold back the smirk that threatened to appear on his face when you squeezed your thighs together, trapping his hand between them and preventing him from moving it.

“Babe you okay?” He murmured in your ear at one point, turning his attention towards you. He always had that damn smile on his face, that smirk so damn sexy you wanted nothing more than to get on your knees under the table and not care about anything else.

“Lando, you’re driving me crazy. Stop it,” you retorted through gritted teeth, in a low voice so that no one at the table would hear what you were talking about with your boyfriend.

Lando chuckled and removed the hand he had on your thigh and caressed your face with it, then resting it on your partially bare back. “But I’m not doing anything princess.”

“Oh you know damn well what you’re doing and you have to stop,” you repeated, but in the meantime feeling your cheeks burning and the heat running through your body.

Had the temperatures suddenly risen?

Or were you just horny?

Probably the second option.

“I can’t help it princess, you look so fucking hot in this dress,” he whispered, making you smile and your pussy clench at the same time.

And the fact he looked so damn sexy in that suit, so good you just wanted to rip his clothes with your teeth didn’t help make things particularly easy. If Lando struggled not to constantly touch you, you weren’t so different. You couldn’t help it, you couldn’t resist him even if you tried and it certainly wasn’t your fault.

It was his fault sex oozed from every single fucking pore of his body.

“I’m already hard as rock right now, you’re not helping if you keep looking at me like that.” His voice caught your attention again, not realizing you were mesmerized by looking at him and running your hungry eyes over his body.

“I’m not looking at you in any way baby, you just look very, very handsome in this outfit.” You seductively battled your lashes. You printed a kiss on his cheek, making your lips slight caress his earlobe. “And very, very fuckable.”

“Fucking hell,” he breathed out, about to combust.

You then placed a hand on his cheek, eagerly wanting to have some physical contact with him It didn’t matter if it was an arm, a hand, or his face, you needed to touch him. His skin was particularly hot and the way his pupils were dilated told you to everything you needed to know.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he admonished you, even though he didn’t want you to stop at all, he just wanted to avoid fucking you on that table in front of everyone.

“Too bad baby, two can play this game.” The little smirk on your painted lips made his legs go numb and it was enough for you to give him a small kiss on the lips, innocent and apparently chaste, to make him completely lose his mind.

“You’re looking at me like you want me to fuck you right here and now.” He wet his lips with his tongue, alternating his gaze between your eyes and mouth.

You nonchalantly shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe I do want you to fuck me right here and now.”

This marked the breaking point for Lando, who at that point lost all judgment and didn’t care that the awards ceremony was about to begin.

“Meet me in the bathroom.” Was all he said before getting up and walking away without even giving you time to respond. You tried to suppress a giggle, every cell in your body twitching in anticipation.

“Woah where is Lando going so fast?” Carlos had asked, turning to you with a confused expression.

“In the bathroom, I think all the water he drank is having an effect,” you replied, meanwhile thinking of an excuse to get up from the table too.

“I’m going to get something to drink.” It was the first thing that crossed your mind, not caring about the confused looks of the others at the table.

“How much you wanna bet they’re gonna fuck in the bathroom?” Daniel announced, sparking laughter from everyone on the table. “God those two go on like rabbits, it’s embarrassing.”

But there was nothing closer to the truth than what Daniel said. You and Lando wanted each other a lot, it was no secret, and your sex life was more than active and intense.

That’s why, you found yourself pressed against the men’s bathroom sink, the door locked and Lando’ body pressed against yours as the two of you kissed with hunger and passion.

His hands, now resting on your cheeks, began to wander down your body, squeezing your breasts, your hips, his fingers pressed deep into your skin.

“Fuck I want you so bad baby,” you murmured as you broke away to take a breath. But he didn’t leave you any respite, his lips had started licking and nibbling your neck, in that precise point where he knew it drove you crazy.

“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth as you began palming the crotch of his pants, feeling him rock hard under your hand.

“Already so hard for me huh?” You whispered sensually, sighing as you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them and his boxers down enough to release his dick.

“Darling I’ve been hard for you since I saw you in this damn dress.” He cupped his hands over your breasts, squeezing and groping them over your dress, making you sigh. He slipped the straps of your dress revealing and you felt him twitch in your hand as you jerked him off, his eyes looking at you with hunger and desperation. “I’m always so hard for you. God you’re gorgeous.”

“Fuck yes…” He moaned loudly and you covered his mouth with your free hand.

“Shh you don’t want anyone to hear us, do you my love?”.

He slightly shook his head, feeling like he was already at his limit just from the way you were looking at him. You removed your hand and he placed his on your face, looking straight into your eyes as your hand continued to move up and down on his dick.

“That’s my good boy.”

He almost came from that sentence alone.

His thumb traced the outline of your lips with which you wasted no time and wrapped them around his digit, always keeping your eyes on him. His gaze was fixed on your lips, the way your cheeks hollowed out to suck on his thumb and you knew where his mind was wandering.

He almost had a heart attack when he saw you kneel in front of him, a smile printed on your lips now devoid of any trace of lipstick and lip gloss.

A loud moan escaped his lips when you stuck your tongue out and traced a long line along his shaft, starting from the base up to the tip where you paused for a few moments while you tasted the saltiness of the precum.

“Shit…” He panted like he was running a marathon, his chest rising and falling quickly. “Stop teasing me.”

“Oh you mean like you did all night?” I retorted with sassy.

“Please baby, please… I need this pretty little mouth…” He begged you, stroking your no longer styled hair with one hand. “I need to fuck this mouth so bad…”

“You look so cute when you beg so desperately for me darling.” You took his dick completely into your mouth, leaving him no room for response and completely taking the air and breath out of his lungs.

He threw his head back, trying to concentrate on not letting himself get too loud since you were still in a public bathroom. But it was hard, so damn hard when your mouth took him so perfectly, when your lips kept sliding back and forth, up and down on his hard dick.

“Shit, shit, fuck yes keep going… Oh yes just like that…” he groaned, gripping your hair in a fist and intensifying the movements of his hips. His tip kept hitting deep into your throat, making you gag and almost choke on it, your eyes watering.

“So pretty… My girl is so fucking pretty while she is on her knees taking me in her mouth so damn well…”

You continued to squeeze your legs with desire, hoping in some way to relieve the tension and desire that made you clench your pussy. Your eyes never left his face, thoroughly enjoying that feeling of being able to make him lose his mind in that way.

You felt immense enjoyment, a rush of euphoria flowed through your veins seeing his face contracted in pleasure, hearing those moans, sighs and pants that only you could give him, and even if he was fucking your mouth without mercy you could’ve even choked to death and you would’ve been the happiest woman in the world.

One of your hands was resting on his hairy bare thigh, your nails pressed into his skin while the other encircled the base of his dick, helping where your mouth couldn’t reach.

“Fuck baby your mouth feels like heaven… Oh my god…” he gasped. “You drive me crazy.”

Suddenly the sound of someone banging on the door startled both of you. You took advantage of that moment to catch your breath, but continued to slide your hand up and down his cock wet with your saliva.

“O-occupied!” Lando exclaimed, swallowing a groan and trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible while his eyes were fixed on you.

God you were so beautiful.

“Hurry up!” The voice replied from the other side of the door and you both breathed a sigh of relief when you heard footsteps walking away. You let out a laugh, but it was interrupted when you started licking his wet dick again, wrapping your lips around his particularly red and sensitive tip and focusing on it as you continued to pleasure him with your hand.

Lando swore he saw stars for a moment, letting out a particularly loud moan and feeling like he was going to explode at any moment. “Oh fuck yeah princess just like that…”

Without leaving you any escape, Lando pushed himself into your mouth again, keeping his grip on your hair, using you as if you were his own doll.

But you didn’t care, on the contrary, you loved the way he used you and always did what he wanted with you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he groaned, moving his hips and making you gag on his dick again, too carried away by the pleasure and euphoria to be able to think clearly. You levered yourself on his thigh, your nails pressed so hard into his skin you feared for a moment you’d leave any permanent mark “Ah shit… I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming… Fuuuck.”

With one final forceful thrust, his hot, salty cum filled your mouth and you wasted no time swallowing it, not particularly enjoying the taste.

“Holy shit I think I’m gonna die,” he sighed in ecstasy, his mouth half open as he tried to catch his breath.

You giggled and started to get up when you felt his hands on your hips helping you to your feet and before you could do anything he kissed you, tasting himself on your lips. You immediately deepened the kiss, circling his neck and threading your hands into his hair, not being able to resist for a minute longer.

“You’re so fucking beautiful love, what do I have to do with you? You make me lose my mind,” he whispered against your lips, then losing himself for a moment looking at you. It wasn’t an exaggeration but you were truly breathtaking. Especially in that moment with your lips swollen due to the amazing blowjob you had just given him, your cheeks red and lined with mascara running from your eyes. God, he couldn’t wait to be buried deep inside you.

“For starters you could fuck me properly Mr Norris.”

He chuckled and you let out a disappointed sigh when he slightly pulled away from you, immediately feeling an empty, cold feeling inside you. He cleaned himself before putting his pants and underwear back on.

“How are you feeling my love? Was I too rough?” He then asked, cupping his hands over your face and removing the traces of mascara with his thumbs as best he could.

You shook your head. “Oh God no baby, it was amazing. You know I love it when you’re rough.”

He gave you a kiss on the lips, so sweet and in contrast to the words he was about to say. “Good baby because now we’re going home and I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for the next few days.”

And man, had he kept his promise.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16

Lando Norris tag list: @halsteadbrasil, @bwormie, @ssprayberrythings, @mynameisangeloflife, @lunepoesie

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mattscoquette · 3 months

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“ 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞/𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 , 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝜗𝜚 “

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: popular!mean!matt x quiet!introverted!fem!oc

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a story in which a quiet introverted girl attempts to befriend her popular neighbor

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k

introduction 1 3 4 5 6

𝐚/𝐧: oooo part 2! i hope u all enjoy! i'm writing a lot but part three won't get posted this weekend because i'll be out of state. but i appreciate all the love part one got and i hope u guys r just as excited to read this as i am to write it!!! lmk if any of u guys wanna be on on taglist too <333

xoxo ₊˚⊹ ୨ৎ

─────────── · · ౨ৎ · · ───────────

matthew sturniolo,

woke up the following morning in a frenzy. being one of four boys, his mom implemented a strict morning routine when the triplets started kindergarten, that they have been following right up until now, their senior year of high school. this morning however, matt was awoken about five minutes before he had to leave to the sound of chris and nick’s yelling to hurry his ass up. matt scrambled to pick out whatever clothes he could find, a pair of grey nike sweats and a fuzzy brown hoodie, and hurried downstairs to brush his teeth at record breaking speed before he was out the door heading the the mini van.

as he was throwing his and his brothers hockey bags into the trunk, he caught a glimpse of addilyn leaving her house and starting to walk down the block to the bus stop. as if his thoughts were being read, chris out loud wondered “what senior is still taking the bus?”

before matt could even open his mouth to make a rude comment, nick was already calling her over to offer a ride.

“dude what the fuck,” matt muttered under his breath to nick as addilyn approached the van, “i don’t wanna drive her.”

addilyn’s appearance totally switched from what she was wearing when matt saw her last night. her slim fitting dress was swapped out for a pair of mom jeans and an oversized sweater, her curly brown hair held back by a clip. “are you sure?” she breathed, looking at nick, “i’m okay with taking the bus, really.”

“we don’t mind at all, do we matt?” nick smiled through gritted teeth, nudging his brother in the arm.

“we don’t have time to mind,” chris interrupted them, climbing into the passenger seat, “we’re gonna be late.”

matt huffed, telling addilyn she could sit in the back seat with nick. he quickly plugged his phone into the aux cord, playing circles by mac miller as he backed out of the driveway and made his way to school.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

it was only fourth period, and matt was already pissed off. the start to his day had been thrown off by waking up so late, and addilyn richardson being in his van this morning did not help one bit. he wasn’t sure what it was about that girl that bothered him so much. maybe it was the way she shut out the world by indulging herself in a book or in a drawing she was working on. or maybe it was the way her curls would stick up and fly away from the rest of her hair sometimes making her look like a mad scientist. or maybe it was the way she was the only girl who didn’t pay one ounce of attention to him. being the school’s best hockey player alongside his two other triplet brothers definitely made matt one of the most popular guys in school. he never had any trouble when it came to girls, because all of them already wanted him. except addilyn.

get yourself together man, she’s weird matt thought to himself as he entered his physics class, sitting next to his best friend nate. as he plopped his backpack down beside his friend, matt looked up at the white board and read in all big letters:

PARTNER PROJECT ON ENERGY OF MOTION - DUE IN TWO WEEKS

matt and nate grinned at each other, beginning making plans to pair up. the bell rang, and the teacher began to lecture. matt pulled out his notebook, already struggling to follow along with his teacher’s presentation. he had never been a straight a student, but he needed to keep his grades decent to stay on all his teams. however, physics was bringing his overall average down, and he needed to do well on this project to be able to start in his upcoming hockey games.

as the class made its way to an end and the students began to pack up, the teacher started to explain the project. “it’s quite simple really,” he began as he was erasing his notes from the board, “you and a partner will pick your own type of demonstration to show how kinetic energy is used in everyday objects.”

“this project will be worth a quarter of this semester’s overall grade, for both you and your partner, so it is crucial you all do well on this.” he explained, looking directly at matt. “before i let you all leave, i will be assigning your partners.” the entire class groaned.

he pulled out his class roster and began reading off names paired together.

“alexa and william… michelle and quincy… peter and xaiver… isabelle and ryan…”

please let me be with nate, matt thought. please let me be with nate. please let me be with nate.

“matthew and addilyn… louise and theresa… nathan and catie…”

no fucking way. of course addilyn was matt’s partner. he didn’t even know she was in his class. he looked around, annoyance written all over his face and he locked eyes with the curly headed girl sitting in the back of the room. she didn’t look too pleased either.

“this is an out of class project, so i suggest you start working on this asap.” the teacher announced just as the bell was ringing.

matt headed straight for the door when he felt a small tap on his shoulder. “what?” he snapped, looking down at the girl who tapped him.

“sorry,” addilyn said in a hushed voice, “its just- do you want to work on the project after school? we can go to my house, or i can come to yours or-”

“yeah, thats fine.” matt cut her off, walking out of the classroom, trying to shake her and walk with nate.

“which one?” she called out to him, her voice barely above a whisper.

“my house, but don’t expect anymore free rides from me. take the bus home.” matt told her angrily. she simply nodded and let him walk away from her, watching as he laughed with his friends in the hallway.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

it was currently 3:30p.m., and matt was sitting at his kitchen table waiting for addilyn to come over. he had his laptop and textbook open, with messily written notes scattered all across the table. he found out later on in the school day that if he failed physics this semester, not only would be not be starting in his games, he would be benched for the rest of his hockey season. so to say he was stressed about this project was an understatement. he was broken out of his thoughts when he heard a tiny knock at the door, yelling for one of his brothers let addilyn in.

she wasn’t too excited about this project either, to be quite frank. but not for the same reasons as matt. addilyn simply hated working with others. she felt her quiet and introverted nature caused her to not work well when came to partner projects, so she typically opted to do these assignments alone. she even tried emailing her physics teacher after class, begging for him to let her work alone. he insisted that this was a two-person project for a reason, and told addilyn to stick it out. so here she was, at 3:30 on a monday, in matt sturniolo’s kitchen.

addilyn wasn’t sure why matt didn’t like her very much, but she wasn’t exactly is number one fan either. all the girls in the school loved matt. star hockey player, good looking, what wasn’t there to like about him? addilyn never looked at people surface level, though. she was a hardcore people watcher, mainly due to the fact she was almost always alone. she saw right through matt’s act and knew he was mean. she wasn’t sure how on earth he was related to nick and chris. they had only started talking a day ago, and she was greeted with smiles and waves every time she passed one of them that day. nick had even gone as far as switching his seat in art to sit next to addilyn. “i never liked sitting by the window, he had told her, “it’s always too drafty.”

addilyn quietly put her belongings down at the chair opposite from matts things, trying her best to be careful and not do anything to piss off matt even more. she was already on edge having to work one on one with him in his own house. matt didn’t even bother to look up at her. he mumbled a small “hi” as be started to type away on his laptop. addilyn pulled her belongings out, a stark contrast to matt’s. her notes were all written perfectly, with all the t’s crossed and i’s dotted, in a small cursive font that looked identical to if it were typed. matt took slight note of this.

“how do you write so neatly?” he genuinely asked, then realized he sounded nice, following up with “you probably so much free time on your hands because you have no friends” after addilyn told him quietly she re-writes her notes during lunch.

addilyn simply rolled her eyes. “i came here to work on the project, matt, not to take shit from you.”

“besides,” she started “we both get the same grade on this, and i am not letting you fuck up my gpa just because you want to be a dick to me.”

“it’s not like i can afford a bad grade on this either, sweetheart.” matt shot back at her.

sweetheart. why did her stomach suddenly feel weird?

stop it addy, she told herself, it’s matt, for crying out loud.

addilyn scoffed and began to look through her notes. “what were you thinking we do the project about?”

“i was hoping you could just do all the work.” matt had replied, blunt and matter-of-factly.

“what?” addilyn said in shock, dumfounded.

“what do you mean, what?, i don’t know shit about physics, you do. plus, i know you hate to work on these kinds of things with other people, so why don’t you do it alone?” matt told her.

she was in shock. had he really noticed i always work alone? she thought.

stop addy. he knows you work alone because you’re always doing things alone. it isn’t rocket science to connect the two.

before she could open her mouth to reply, chris came downstairs into the kitchen, grabbing a pepsi from the fridge. a smile grew on addilyn’s face as she said hi to him.

“no way, you and addy got paired together for this project?” chris gawked at matt, looking between him and addilyn.

“you’re so lucky, dude,” he continued, taking a swig of the soda, “justin told me he did this project when he was a senior, and everyone did so bad. thank god your partner is like, one of the top ten students in our class, or your senior season would have been shot.”

matt simply looked at chris. he was right, this shit was hard. he looked between the paper and addilyn a few times, before asking “where do we start?”

‎*₊˚ 𓂃✧

addilyn and matt ended up working until about 7:30 that night. his mom even insisted she stayed for dinner too.

“really sweetie, i don’t mind. i’m already feeding four kid’s, what’s one more?” she laughed.

“yeah addy, stay with us for dinner, please?” nick somewhat whined, dragging out the “e” sound.

addilyn gave in, and joined the sturniolo’s for dinner the second day in a row. like the previous night, dinner was filled with chatter from nick and chris, and radio silence coming from matt’s end. instead of giving her mean looks like he did at the previous dinner they shared, he just started at his plate the whole night and picked at his food.

“sorry about matt again,” chris apologized as he and nick began walking addilyn back next door to her house, “i don’t know whats been up with him lately.”

“it’s fine, really.” addilyn said. people being mean to her, or making rude remarks, was not out of the ordinary for her. she heard small whispers in passing everywhere she went. she was just used to it. “i’m glad you and nick are nice at least.”

chris just smiled at her and nick gave her a quick side hug. “we’re glad you’re nice, too, addy.”

the trio got to the front door, and addilyn gave them a small wave goodnight before she turned on her heel to walk into her home and upstairs. the boys walked back over to their house, noticing matt had already gone upstairs and disappeared to his room. he was sat at his desk, writing in his journal, when he noticed the light in the window across from his turned on. he saw addilyn set her book bag down, and sit at her mirror undoing her hair. he couldn’t help but to think how pretty she looked.

she’s weird, matt, he reminded himself, and you don’t even like her.

he sighed, closing his journal, and getting up to pull his blinds down to try to clear his head from the girl. out of sight out of mind. he saw her give a small smile, and he returned it by giving her a death stare, yanking the blinds down.

he got into bed, tossing and turning all night about this project with addilyn. he didn’t want to work on it with her, let alone even be nice to her, but he had to for chris and nick’s sake. they only started talking to her yesterday for god’s sake, and were already acting like they’ve been best friends since birth. matt knew these next two weeks of working on the project with addilyn everyday were going to be long.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬:

@alorsxsturn @sturniolossss @cammie4298 @bussybandit1 @amorttentia

#© mattscoquette #𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 ₊˚ 𓂃 𝜗𝜚 #𐙚 ⊹ ࣪ ˖#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #fanfic

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thatwriterchick222 · 2 months

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save a horse, ride... two cowboys? (arthur morgan and joel miller x f/reader) AU

summary:

“What’s a pretty young thing like yourself doin’ out here all alone?” The older man said as he approached you. You licked your lips, turning to peer inside the window of the saloon, spotting your fiance chatting with a few men at a poker table. “I’m not alone.” “That’s a shame.” The older man said, his eyes running down your body. “It is.” You replied. “Well…” The brunette leaned forward, peering through the same window you had looked through just prior, his eyes searching. “Your husband ain’t with you right now…” You smiled, trying not to let his smell of earth and smoke as he leaned closer to you cloud your judgment. “Fiance, actually.” “Even better.”

a/n: y'all this one is kinda crazyyyy... porn with plot at its finest. i also love combining my hyperfixations teehee

-------------

“Bend over this table, now .” The man’s gruff voice came from behind you, his large hands shoving you down onto the wooden table. You yelped as your cheek came into contact with the hard surface, your bare breasts pressed painfully down, your body completely trapped by his strong arms.

You struggled, but couldn’t fight the moan that escaped your throat when you felt something hard press into your backside through the rough material of his jeans.

“Good thing we tied her up.” The other man said– Arthur, you think you heard him being addressed as– and you wiggled your arms that were tied behind your back, the rope looped around your ribcage a few times.

All your clothes had been forcefully ripped off aside from your pantyhose. While you were practically naked, the men were fully clothed, the roughness of their attire giving you a painful reminder every time it brushed up against your bare skin. A shiver ran through you.

###

You had been out for a few drinks in town with your fiance, whom you honestly had gotten bored of within the span of a few minutes, as per usual. But, it wasn’t your choice to be engaged. Your parents arranged it, and you had no other option but to go through with it.

This was where the so-called “high class” life had gotten you, you supposed.

When you went out for a smoke, you spotted two men leaning casually up against the brick wall, their hats tipped down just enough that you had to squint to see their eyes in the dimness of the streetlights. They looked like proper cowboys.

From what you could tell, they both seemed older, but one of them more so. He had a salt and pepper beard and you saw the traces of even greyer hair underneath his tan leather hat. He had a green plaid shirt that had the top buttons undone, and you swore you could see a dusting of chest hair beneath it.

You watched the man reach up and take a draw of his cigarette, noticing his hands. They looked like working hands, hands that had been through a lot. Strong hands. You watched him blow the cigarette smoke out through his nostrils. Then, to your surprise, he looked up at you, meeting your eyes with his own.

You blushed, averting your eyes immediately, focusing on the cigarette in your gloved hand that was almost burnt out. But you couldn’t help yourself as you looked back over at the man, and he was nudging the younger one beside him, drawing his attention to you as well. Oh shit .

The other man had lighter brown hair, his jawline wide and sharp, dusted in the slightest bit of stubble. He had an even bushier mustache on his upper lip, and his brow was furrowed as he looked up, eyes finding you immediately.

###

The younger man, Arthur, came over to the other side of the table, abruptly reaching down and fisting his hand in your hair, yanking it back. You gasped as he craned your neck painfully, forcing you to look up at him, a playful smirk on his face.

Your mouth hung open as you stared at him, breathing heavily. His eyes flicked down your face, and you yelped as you felt the other man grinding himself into your backside, rubbing against your bare skin.

Arthur hummed. “Let me put that pretty mouth to use, hm?”

###

“What’s a pretty young thing like yourself doin’ out here all alone?” The older man said as he approached you, the metal of his spurs rattling on the concrete sidewalk. His voice was soft and deep, with an attractive southern twang. You let out a small laugh, shaking your head.

“Young?” You smiled. You were only twenty-four, but from what you had been through, and where you were, you didn’t feel like it.

The other man came up beside him, his hands resting on his gun belt. “Still… Alone, in a place like this?”

You licked your lips, turning to peer inside the window of the saloon, spotting your fiance chatting with a few men at a poker table. “I’m not alone.”

“That’s a shame.” The older man said, his eyes running down your body. You swallowed, shifting your weight to avoid the heat pooling in your stomach. It was intriguing, this outright form of flattery. You liked how forward they were, unlike the people you knew. Where you were from, even hinting at it got you a slap on the wrist.

“It is.” You replied, tossing your used cigarette to the damp cobblestone sidewalk and watching it go out.

“Well…” The brunette leaned forward, peering through the same window you had looked through just prior, his eyes searching. “Your husband ain’t with you right now…”

You smiled, trying not to let his smell of earth and smoke as he leaned closer to you cloud your judgment. “Fiance, actually.”

“Even better.” The older one said, reaching up and placing his cigarette between his lips, his eyes dark and hungry as they raked over you.

###

A rush of excitement shot through you when Arthur reached for his gun belt, undoing it with ease and unbuttoning his pants with one hand. He kept his other hand knotted in your hair, the hair you had taken so much time pinning up before you went out.

God, your fiance was probably worried sick at that moment. Running around the saloon, asking people if they’d seen you, calling out your name on street corners. You fought a smile at the thought of him being worried sick, while you were tied up, pinned between two filthy cowboys in some barn in the middle of nowhere. Part of you wanted him to find you like this. To see you getting something you never got with him.

When Arthur finally pulled himself out of the restraints of his pants, you felt a chill run down your spine at the size of him. You had only ever seen your fiance’s, and it was… underwhelming, to say the least.

You swallowed thickly, feeling the other man’s warm hand run up your back, grabbing your arms that were tied.

You were utterly helpless as Arthur guided himself to your parted lips. “Open wide for me, darlin’.”

to be continued on ao3!!!

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luveline · 1 year

Note

Hi lovely!! Are you taking requests atm? If so, would it be okay if you wrote something where Eddie takes care of sick reader? I’ve been in bed the whole week with a cold, and I would love some loving right about now. If not, that’s totally okay! I hope you have a great rest of your day 🩷

thank you angel! boyfriend!eddie x fem!reader

Eddie slides his hand under your sleeping face carefully. He only wears one ring, now, the ring you'd given him. It's plain platinum and it cost a pretty penny, and it looks right at home pressed lovingly to your cheek.

Your skin is hot as an open flame. Eddie tries not to wake you up as he lays the cold press he prepared over your forehead, lips pursed in an adoring pity. He loves you, and you're so, so sick. Perturbed by your chills that persevere despite the heat emanating from your skin, Eddie pulls the thin blanket he'd brought for you up to your neck. It was his mom's, and then it was his. He doesn't mind sharing it with you.

A rivulet of cold water slinks down your head and soaks into your hair. It must tickle. You mumble under your breath, your sticky lashes pulling apart slowly.

"Eddie?" you ask, your hand sliding up to his elbow. "What is that?"

"Cold press," he says.

"It's in my hair," you whine quietly.

Your eyes finally struggle open, tracking across each of his features in turn. Visibly, you fluster at his proximity. He doesn't mean to do it, you're not so easily flushed usually. Being sick makes you lots of things, shy and clingy, sweet and cranky.

"Hello, pretty girl," he whispers teasingly.

You scrunch your eyes closed and turn your chin up at him. "Oh, don't," you laugh, your laugh then phasing into a crackling couch. "Ouch, my throat hurts."

He follows your head with his hand to make sure the cold press doesn't fall into your sweaty pillows. "I know, babe. Don't move around too much, okay? You'll agitate your chest. I have everything you need right here."

You settle down, smiling at him with eyes barely opened. "Everything?" you ask.

Eddie rubs your cheek with his thumb. "I don't like seeing you sick," he confesses, his voice taking on a roughness akin to hewn stone. "I'll do anything you want, just promise to get better, cool?"

You nod enough to disorient yourself. Eddie sighs, his exhale kissing your chapped lips, and sets about setting you right. He helps you up enough to drink a half a glass of water, hands roving wherever they can, your arms, your legs, your complaining stomach. Concerned, he sells a hot bowl of tomato soup and grilled cheese to you like he would a show, or an album, or a new movie from the store, Come on, baby, you'll love it. If you don't love it, I'll make it up to you…

You perk up after your soup, enough to let him help you shower and change into new clothes, every brush of his hand over your skin loving and brimmed with an easy promise: I'm not going anywhere.

You climb into bed together, slotting your head into the crook of his neck, his arm wrapped around your elbow and hugging it to his chest to draw shooting stars down the length of your clammy skin.

"That feels nice," you murmur sleepily, head heavy against him.

"Yeah?" he asks. He pinches a curl between his fingers and pulls your arm up enough to tickle you with it. Your giggles are slow and thick and sweet, honey spun into sound. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel good, baby. I feel much better," you say. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Actually don't."

"You're good at looking after me," you say warmly.

"I love doing it," he says.

You steal your arm from his grasp to fold it over his chest in as tight a hug as you can manage, which isn't tight at all. Lips against his neck, you murmur something hard to hear. He knows without clue that it's loving and far too thankful.

"You're good, sweet thing," he says nonchalantly. "I love you, too. Get better quickly, okay? This two man band is kind of lame without you."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

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h0rnyauth0r · 2 years

Text

i can hardly stop thinking about the thought of riding ghost in a car in the middle of the night :) just the sound of his heavy breaths as he struggles to not take control and fuck the hell out of you

pls dni if not 16+, thank you!

tws: unprotected sex, semi-public sex, car sex, brief choking (i have a choking kink, this will be common <3), cumming inside, overstimulation, reader has vagina and is called a girl (i also have a praise kink lolz)

you’re both really tired, having done a lot of running to get training done before heading off to a mission. even so, you took one good look at each other and couldn’t hold back anymore.

he always stays fully clothed, but your pants are off and panties are hanging around your right ankle as you basically stuff his cock into you in hunger. his mask stays on but you still kiss and pull at the skin on his neck as you start rocking your hips.

you’re not even sure when his gloves were taken off as his fingernails dig into your skin, leaving little crescents that’ll remind you of this in the morning.

you’re staring into each others eyes as you allow your hips to pick up, feeling his dick hit just the right spot to make you squeak and moan the slightest bit.

you know you have to be careful with your movements to not make anyone question why the car is rocking, but you lose control a little and rock harder against him.

your knees are sore from the position your in, forcing your body up and down in the tiny seats to hopefully make both of you cum. you almost want to give up, but he makes it easier on you by thrusting up into you and moving your hips for you now and then.

“just like that…” he says quietly, eyes shutting tightly when you start moving harder against him, pussy clenching around him in arousal.

his breaths pick up, loud and small sounds pass his lips that you can tell he’s trying to control. his eyebrows are furrowed tightly, his pretty eyes hidden away in pleasure.

the sight is so fucking hot to you, you want to melt into a puddle seeing him fucked out like this. your hips start moving more, trying so hard to milk his cock into you.

it’s just not enough for either of you, though, and eventually he makes it known. he lifts your body just the slightest, smashing his hips into yours so roughly that your mouth falls open but no sound is able to come out.

when he’s rough like this, you know it’s going to leave you limping tomorrow. he’s such a big man compared to you, his cock always feels like it’s ripping you open.

as his hips thrust up faster, you cry out and throw your head back. two of your fingers move down to your clit and you find yourself making quick movements to try to cum soon.

even with his current movements, you want more. “faster, please.” you moan out, one of his hands leaving your hips and wrapping around your throat tightly.

the feeling of his fingers squeezing against you and his hips moving more quickly makes you cum hard, nails of your free hand digging into his thigh as you shake.

“mmm, good girl.” he says in your ear, his movements becoming more erratic and the car making actual noise now. a slight creaking from the force of his movements, just more proof of how good he is.

your eyes shut tightly as he continues squeezing your throat, and you eventually feel his cum fill you up as his hips stutter in their movement.

he keeps thrusting afterwards, overstimulating you both but it feels so good that you really don’t want to stop, ever. you’re biting on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, making his eyes darken.

you can feel another orgasm building up and your legs have his cum running down them, making loud noises in your ears. “more.” you whimper out.

he looks at you, down at your lips, and finally decides to do it. he moves his mask up to reveal his lips and kisses you for the first time. it takes everything in your being to not cum then and there, feeling his hips somehow move more roughly now that you’re kissing.

his breathing is loud as you move your lips against one another, your mouth opening and his tongue sliding in as the force of his thrusts makes the kiss sloppier.

the feeling of his tongue brushing against your own makes you moan against his mouth, desperately grinding into his cock to try to find release. it finally crashes down a few moments later, as his teeth bite down onto your bottom lip.

you gasp against his mouth, jaw clenching as your pussy trembles against him. you’re absolutely throbbing now, pushing your body down and into his thrusts as hard as possible.

as you continue kissing, he eventually groans out softly and you feel his cum fill you up even more and his hands dig into your skin harder.

he stops moving as you grind against him to ride out your second highs of the night, almost hyperventilating against his lips but too fucked out to pull away.

when you finally do, he looks down at you with his mouth covered in your saliva. it’s so fucking hot to you, fingers reaching out and touching his soft lips.

he kisses your fingers, and you move them as he pulls his mask back down. his eyes stare into yours as you lift your hips up, his cock sliding out of you as you struggle to catch your breath.

you decide to wrap your arms around his torso as you catch your breath, his arms slinking around you and softly squeezing you. you want so badly to tell him you love him, but you choose not to.

but what you don’t know is that he wants to say the same thing to you too.

#ghost #ghost smut #ghost x reader smut #ghost x reader #cod smut #call of duty smut #call of duty #cod #smut #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #x reader #female reader

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politemenacephd · 6 months

Text

A Fortunate Mistake: Christmas Special

Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader (+18)

Word count: 14,000 Fluff + Smut + Angst Smut Content: Dry humping, oral (reader recieving), marking bites, voyeruism, possessive language during sex, rough vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie

You are a maintenance worker for the Spider Society, one who's been keeping your relationship with Miguel a secret for some time. The holidays are now just around the corner, and while everyone else is excited, Miguel seems to be struggling. You decide to try and help him out.

Note: this is based on my other fic, A Fortunate Mistake, and takes place between chap 8 - 9, but can be read as its own one-shot! There's just an established relationship here. Anyway enjoy hehe

‘Okay, hold- hold- HEY, hold it—!’

You strained your arms as your fellow maintenance workers called back, all straining in the exact same way.

You were currently hanging almost entirely vertically from a standard beam in the HQ lobby, a position that came very unnaturally to you as a human. However, you weren’t at liberty to think about that right now, as you were right in the middle of helping put up Christmas decorations.

This would usually be a relaxing activity, or at the very least a mildly inconvenient one, but for a society run by spiders the decorations had to be a little unorthodox. So instead of getting tangled in tinsel or vacuuming up pine needles, you were hoisting an entire tree up the side of the HQ wall to be stuck down at an angle.

You wiped your brow and tensed the rope one more time. ‘Alright! Pull up, up- that’s it!’

With a final grunt the tree slipped into the pre-bolted stand, and your co-worker rushed to solder it in. You loosened the rope at first just to be sure it was secure, and when the rope went slack but the tree stayed firm you threw it down entirely. Job done.

You dropped to the floor with a huff, leaning on your knees for support. The most you could manage in response to your co-workers’ cheers was a thumbs up.

‘Oh- god, fuck- okay! We did it! Good job guys, you—’

‘Hey! What are you lot up to?’

You glanced up to see Peter B. eagerly jogging towards your location, his eyes fixed on the tree. You offered him an awkward wave.

‘Hey! Peter, hi. We urgh- we’re just putting the decorations up. We’ve got like ten more trees to do but we’re halfway there, so, you know! Baby steps. Keep a- keep a positive spirit and all that.’

You expected to see Peter get excited over the decorations, but instead his smile faltered.

‘Oh! I, uh- I thought, you guys would have got the memo!’

Your eye twitched as your own smile faltered. ‘The mem—the what? The memo about what?’

Peter physically winced. He knew already that he was going to be the bearer of bad news. ‘Aha, well… Sorry let me urgh, find it, just a- second- OH, HEY! How about you hold May while I get it out?’

As a last-ditch effort to keep you calm he grabbed his baby daughter from her carrier and thrust her body into your arms. You stumbled as May squealed and patted your cheeks.

‘Oof- Peter, uh- she’s lovely but—’

‘AH! Here it is!’

As you finally found your balance again Peter shoved a holographic message right into your face.

‘See? Uh- last minute change, elites said it was safer to do holographic decorations this year! So they’re just doing that. In fact, they should be about to—’

In the middle of speaking a low hum began to fill the HQ, drawing you both to glance upward. Just as he’d predicted the entire building was suddenly filled with bright, shining holographic Christmas decorations, ones that totally eclipsed the meager work you’d done.

Peter and May cooed with glee as the other spiders let out rapturous applause. You, however, looked utterly sour.

‘Oh my god… Well! Alright then. Guess I’m on lunch break early.’

You awkwardly handed Mayday back over to Peter and brushed down your clothes. He didn’t even seem to notice. You bid him goodbye and waved off the other workers, all of whom looked just as sour as you, before turning and heading for the cafeteria instead.

If you were off work early, you could at least make the most of the extra time. You could at least hope he was here.

You swung by the cafeteria and grabbed your usual to-go bag of empanadas. The girl you knew there tried to sell you on something new they were trying but you waved her off; you knew he didn’t like surprises, all he wanted was the same comfortable treat.

With lunch in hand you scaled the beams up towards the highest corridor accessible to the spiders. You ran down the corridor filled with anomaly cages, passed the go-home machine and down to the left. All the way through the eerie, empty space, back to the person you wanted to see the most.

Back to him. Back to Miguel.

You shoved his office door aside with dramatic flair.

‘Miguel?’

You called out into the empty space and listened to the words echo upward into nothing. You noted that his desk was hovering about halfway up, but you couldn’t see him on it. Drat, was he busy again?

You turned a full circle in his room, awkwardly bouncing the empanada box on your hip. Where was he? Surely your luck couldn’t be that bad, right?

‘Mig—’

‘Up here.’

You jumped and glanced upward again. Ah, wait, there he was: one of his hands was draped unceremoniously over the edge of the floating desk, hanging limply with his claws extended. It seemed that your boss was lying flat on his back on the office floor.

As you went to put the empanada box in your bag for safekeeping a long string of neon red webbing cascaded down to the floor. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, but secretly you were glad. This was as open as he would be that he wanted to see you.

With your bag tight around your waist you grappled onto the web and began to crawl your way up.

‘Hey there beautiful man’ you whispered as you crawled over the edge. Miguel did not respond.

He was, as you’d expected, lying flat on his back on the cold metal of his office platform. His arms were spread out and his legs slightly parted, with his eyes closed and his brow knotted.

You scooted along the rim of the office until you were sat by his head. Gingerly, you brushed a lock of his hair aside.

‘Hey Mig’ you whispered.

His eyes opened slowly, filling your gaze with red light. You tried to offer him a smile.

‘Nena.’ It was all he said, and while it was said affectionately you could feel the strain in his voice. He sounded exhausted.

‘Yep, that’s me. I uh- I brought you lunch. Your favorite.’

You pulled out the empanada box and shook it, hoping it would cheer him up. Miguel slowly closed his eyes.

‘Mmm.’

His grunt didn’t sound impressed. You put the box down beside his hand and leaned in closer. ‘You okay bud? You seem even more dry than usual.’

Once again he opened one eye, though this time he wrinkled his nose and brows. ‘Did… did you just call me, bud?’

‘Uh… yeah. Sorry. Am I, not supposed to do that?’

The two of you stared at each other for a good minute, lingering in that painfully awkward silence. You worried for a second he might get legitimately mad.

But, instead, the corners of Miguel’s mouth slowly began to twitch upward. His confusion turned to mild amusement, and a short huff of a laugh escaped his lips.

‘Ay, nena. I’ve missed you.’

You felt relieved. You glanced once at the edge of the office to make sure you were alone before pressing a tentative kiss to his forehead. ‘Sorry. I just feel bad, only calling you by your name all the time. I don’t have a cool nickname for you like you do for me’ you whispered.

You tried to pull away then, but Miguel caught you first. He used his claws to tilt your head down, pulling all the way until his lips hit yours. Your whole body went warm as he took one sweet and lingering kiss.

‘I missed you’ he repeated after pulling away. Your eyelids drooped.

‘I missed you too, Miguel.’

With a grunt your beloved pseudo-partner finally forced himself to sit up. He stretched a little as he struggled upward, and as always you were awe-struck by the sight of him. It never failed to surprise you just how large he was.

‘Mierda… Ah, you uh- did you say, you brought lunch?’ Miguel asked between rubbing his temple. You eagerly nodded.

‘Of course! Got your favorite this time.’

‘Really?’

Miguel tilted his head to glance inside the bag you’d brought, noting the labelling on the side. You had, indeed, managed to get his favorite flavor for once.

‘Good girl, nena’ he praised, sounding genuinely surprised. ‘Thank you.’

You loosened up at his stoic praise, your grin widened until your cheeks hurt. Without another word you handed over his half of the food.

You settled into your familiar routine, swinging your legs over the edge of the platform as you divided up your share of empanadas in the box. You tore the container in half to make two little plates you could eat off of to save him the cleaning, and with your plate on your lap you sat shoulder to shoulder in that empty abyss.

Miguel grunted as he checked his.

‘You didn’t get these ones as well?’ he asked, gesturing to your plate. You’d stuck with the beef empanadas, the most common ones they had, over the cheese ones you both preferred. You just shrugged.

‘Ah, yeah, but it’s fine! I’m all good.’

‘You changed your appetite?’ he asked, probing further as he took a tentative bite of his own to check the temperature. You shrugged again.

‘Um- no, just, they only had two of the cheese ones left. That’s all.’

Miguel paused mid-bite, his eyes rolling over to stare you down. You gave him a lopsided smile.

‘You—’ Miguel stammered and swallowed hard to finish speaking. ‘You gave up your lunch for me?’

‘What? no! I mean I’m still eating, so… I didn’t, give anything up’ you replied in an oddly defensive tone. Miguel didn’t buy it though. He let out a soft sigh, his claws coming up to gently scratch at your scalp.

‘You soft thing’ he murmured. ‘At least someone cares about what I want today.’

You glanced up from relishing the intoxicating sensation of his thick, calloused fingers scratching your head, and noted the dour, bitter look in his eyes.

‘Ohhh, oh okay. What’s happened? Is it the elites again?’ you asked, whispering the last part as if one of them would hear. Miguel pinched the spot between his brows.

‘Ay por Dios- ah, yes. Yes, of course, it’s them. They’re insisting that they host a workplace, festive holiday party, even though I keep insisting we are NOT a workplace, we are an organization who need to be on the offensive at all times, and THEN they want to- do this, thing, where we all exchange gifts in secret—’

‘Oh! Secret santa?'

‘Yes, that. Have you done it?'

‘Mhm!’ You hurriedly swallowed in order to explain properly, all while Miguel stared you down. ‘Yeah you uh- you get given a random colleague and you buy them a gift, so its fair, everyone gets one.’

‘Yes, it is- a fine tradition, for literally anywhere else’ Miguel scoffed. ‘If I’m too busy for you I’m definitely too busy for anyone else. And I don’t know what they want! How do I find out?’

‘Don’t you have access to like, everything and everyone on those monitors?’ you noted, waving a piece of empanada at his desk. Miguel shot you a disapproving look.

‘I use that to keep the multiverse safe. Not to- spy on my fellow spiders so I can find them an appropriate gift.’

‘Yeah, but… you’re not saying you CAN’T use it for that’ you insisted. Miguel’s eye twitched at your playful naivety.

‘You’re a menace’ he grunted.

‘A HELPFUL menace, with good ideas!’ you cheered.

He couldn’t help it; a small half-smile broke onto his face at the sight of your gormless joy, but it didn’t last long. The anxiety of his situation crept up on him mere moments later.

Miguel pushed his now empty box aside and sighed. While you were mid-way through your final bite he shuffled backward until he was slumped against his desk, his eyes once again closed to hide from the world.

‘I don’t want to go’ he said bluntly.

Oh boy, you thought. He was in a really bad mood this time. You hurriedly swallowed the last of your lunch, manically licking flakes of pastry from your fingers so they didn’t get grease on his suit, before crawling over the floor to his side.

He didn’t open his eyes for you but his hands did reach out to grope for your body. You squeaked as he dragged you in against his side, squeezing your upper torso against his. You were smooshed directly into his pec.

‘I don’t, want, to go’ he repeated with a hiss. You patted his chest.

‘I know big guy.’

For a while you just lay in his arms, taking in the brief respite of each other’s touch while you could. You didn’t exactly get a lot of time together. The occasional outing or the occasional night visit to his apartment was the best you could get, along with these lunch breaks whenever he wasn’t on a mission, so the chance to just touch him was one you couldn’t pass up.

He was so warm. You squished into his pec and felt his chest move as he breathed, his heartbeat thudding on your cheek. Your fingers idly fiddled with his suit while his claws scratched at your work pants.

That brief, fleeting moment of domestic bliss was intoxicating. You squeezed him lightly, and he squeezed you back.

‘Nena?’

‘Yes?’

‘Will you come with me?’

Miguel’s interruption caught you very much off guard. You gabbed a little as his eyes rolled open once more, now peering at you in earnest. He was pleading with them.

‘Please’ he said softly.

‘Ah… I mean, won’t it look suspicious? I’m not a spider.’

‘You’re my friend aren’t you?’

Your face went warm. ‘I… am technically your friend, yes. I suppose.’

‘So it’s not suspicious. You had time off work, I passed you in the hall and offered for you to come. As a friend.’

You smiled, your fingers now tracing down his chest. You thought about how good he felt under the suit. That rough skin, scarred and warm, covered in thick hair you loved to run your fingers through when it was late and you were cuddling.

You knew from his sad expression he was thinking of the same. The way his hand squeezed you over your clothes, it was clear he was fantasizing about the soft, thick flesh beneath, and how warm it was when he gripped it.

‘Friend’ he repeated, his voice a little husky. You felt him bury his nose into your hair, breathing in deep.

‘Y-Yeah. Friend’ you repeated back. In that moment you both felt the same familiar spark: that unquenchable, physical magnetism, that carnal yearning you couldn’t seem to stop. Miguel squeezed you tight.

‘You’re- such, a good friend’ he whispered. Oh boy, his voice was definitely husky now. You felt him moving, bending, slowly forcing you down to the floor. His lips went from your hair to your neck.

‘M-Mig, we’re at wor- a-ah—’

You squeaked as he began to suck on your neck.

‘Mm… Mm...’

His moans were muffled against your skin. You knew he was fantasizing about biting you. You were deeply flushed, torn between your physical desire and your anxiety over being caught, but as his hands began to fumble your shirt aside you felt desire take over.

You helped him open your shirt at the top, allowing his hand to slip beneath the thin fabric. He began eagerly squeezing your breasts as he sucked and kissed your neck.

‘Ah- Mig.’ You whispered his name intensely, only barely managing to bite down a much louder moan. His fingers were so rough on your chest, and he couldn’t stop himself gently teasing your nipples to try and get another whimper out of you. You had to bite your lip to keep them down.

‘Mig- please, careful—’

‘Mm.’

He groaned into your skin and shuffled, his enormous body shifting until he was directly on top of you. You had to breathe in deep as his chest crushed your ribs.

‘Mig- M-Mig—’

‘Mmm…’

With a soft, satisfied moan Miguel began to dry-hump you over your work clothes. You could feel his clothed bulge desperately kneading between your thighs, eagerly pushing your legs apart so he could grind on your clothed cunt.

‘Mmm...’

You lay back and struggled to keep quiet as he rubbed himself out. You could hear the distant laughs and shouts of spiders somewhere beyond his office, and there was a real fear in you that they could come in at any time.

But, you didn’t tell him to stop. Why would you? After all, you were a filthy pervert for the man, and part of you kind of wanted to get caught. Part of you wanted to be his.

You moaned softly as he ground his hefty bulge just close enough to stimulate your clit. You could feel your slick soaking your panties, and you knew he was probably staining the inside of his suit with pre-cum. You clung tight to his back as his weight crushed you into the cold floor.

You were only drawn apart by one particularly loud shout. It wasn’t calling for Miguel, but it was enough to make him release you and jerk his head up. ‘Fuck… fuck.’

You could see the disappointment in his eyes as he cursed. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand and gingerly wiped his spit from your neck.

‘Sorry, nena.’

‘I-It’s okay, it’s fine.’

With a soft moan Miguel buried his face into your hair once more. You felt his claws squeezing your waist.

‘I’d love to bite you’ he whined.

‘I know’ you panted.

‘I’d love… to bite you, and suck, and have you walk around so everyone knows you’re mine.’

You felt him give one final, needy grind between your legs before sighing and withdrawing, giving you the chance to shuffle onto your elbows.

‘What have you done to me?’ he whispered with a slight chuckle. You hurried to smooth out your clothes. ‘What have I done- why is this on me? I just brought you lunch!’

Miguel bashfully brushed his hair back as you sat up. He couldn’t help himself from looking, especially at where your pants had come down in your frantic dry humping to reveal just a little part of your panties. He was disappointed when you pulled them back up.

‘Mhm. Exactly.’ He reached out and took your chin in his hand, pausing your manic attempt to dress. ‘No one else who brings me lunch makes me want to act like this. So, clearly, there’s something about you.’

‘Ahuh. Very poetic, sir’ you teased. His eyes were so soft in contrast to his otherwise stern expression.

‘Come with me. Please.’

You finally finished sorting your clothes and shuffled into a cross legged position, facing Miguel head on. He leant his head on his upturned fist.

‘What do I get out of it?’

He snorted a laugh at your answer. ‘Ay, nena… How about, best friend status?’ he replied. He was trying to be sarcastic but you jumped at the idea.

‘Oh- oh shit, really? For real? Alright. Done. I’ll see you there, bestie!’

Miguel scowled as he watched you jump to your feet. ‘Do not call me bestie.’

You looked over your shoulder as you scavenged your things, clearly displeased by his curtness. ‘What, not even in private?’

Miguel sighed, his hand flying to his face. ‘Ay por Dios- ah, fine. In private is fine, but not in public.’

‘Aww, Mig, are you embarrassed of me?’

Miguel’s teasing seemed to fall off almost immediately at that. He looked distraught. ‘I- no, nena, of course not. No. I just- look if you start calling me that, Peter will think it’s okay! I can’t have that happening!’

You couldn’t help but giggle at Miguel’s genuine horror. You had to force yourself to stop as you gave him a sympathetic kiss on the chest.

‘Okay. I will come to your work thing. I’ll uh- distract Peter by asking about his thoughts on baby car seats, or Jess on motorcycle maintenance. You can sulk in the corner until it’s over.’

Miguel’s smile was genuine as he gazed down at you. For just a moment, things seemed like they might be alright.

‘Thank you, nena. You’re an angel.’

….

It was roughly 1pm, and you were anxiously pacing about two corridors down from where you knew the Christmas get together was happening. You were here waiting for Miguel to show up and make your appearance seem organic.

You were still in your work clothes, which felt a little odd, but you knew it would look even more odd if you weren’t in them in the middle of the day. You also couldn’t be too close to the party or it’d look stranger still.

You sighed to yourself as your back hit the nearest wall. Here, alone, beneath the cold fluorescents, you pondered this weird situationship you’d gotten into.

You loved Miguel dearly, you really did, both genuinely as a friend and as something more complicated. You just wished you could be more open about it. It was hard to lie, hard to constantly be on the lookout for ways to be inconspicuous. It was exhausting.

You didn’t even entirely know why you couldn’t be open about it. All you knew is you trusted him, or at least, you wanted to, so what he said went.

Your mind drifted to his lips on your neck, and you absently brushed where he’d kissed you. You thought about his words, about how he’d whined over not being able to mark you with a bite. Your cheeks glowed in the cold light.

You wished it too, you thought. You wished for nothing more.

‘Nena?’

You turned to find Miguel watching you from the corner of the hall. He was in full suit, even wearing his mask, which you found a little odd. You smiled as he approached.

‘Hey, big guy.’

Miguel glanced about the hall twice to ensure you were alone before placing a single, cautious kiss to your forehead.

‘You ready?’

You could hear the annoyance in his voice. He was already in a foul mood. With both hands you reached up and gently tapped his cheeks, urging him to remove his mask. He reluctantly obeyed.

‘There he is. Beautiful man.’ You cooed softly as you stroked his jaw, and you watched as he closed his eyes in response. You clung to that moment together, that sweet single moment alone, until you were forced apart by the sound of another spider’s footsteps.

Together you walked into the open lobby.

It was packed with spiders from ceiling to floor, with people standing or sitting at every angle possible. Those holographic decorations were extra bright here, filling the white room with a bright arrangement of rainbow lights. It was excessively cheery.

The moment you walked in you were hit with the low buzz of spiders chatting and calling over each other. Someone somewhere was singing, a gaggle of Peter’s were trying to get the radio to play music, but someone seemed to have already dropped eggnog on the thing and now all you could hear was the occasional static.

You also noticed very quickly that everyone else was wearing some horrible Christmas sweater. That is, everyone but Miguel.

‘Miguel! Hey! There you are!’

You jumped as Peter B. dropped from the ceiling in front of you, his arms flying to Miguel’s waist before the man could even respond. Miguel opted to just stand stock still in his usual, stoic posture, while Peter squeezed his ribs to dust.

‘Oh, I’m so glad! Hey, I told you it was festive sweater attire—’

‘I don’t- own one of those.’

Peter huffed at Miguel’s curtness. While Peter tried to put on his most disapproving, disappointed dad face, Miguel just curled his lip.

‘I brought you one! For this EXACT event!’

‘I lost it.’

‘You lo- how?! You live and work in the HQ!’

‘I lost it’ Miguel repeated. You could tell he was speaking through gritted teeth.

‘I swear you are unbelievable sometim—oh! Hey, you! It’s you!’

Peter finally noticed you standing awkwardly at Miguel’s back. You were easy to miss, as your body barely came up to his pecs and his shadow was currently hiding much of your body, but Peter’s senses were keen. He turned his accusatory finger from Miguel to you instead.

‘Hey! Oh, it’s good to see you, how are you doing?’

‘Hey, Peter. I’m- good, I’m good.’ You forced a smile to hide your anxiety over being here. You knew you weren’t doing anything wrong but you felt so out of place in these big gatherings. You weren’t a spider, you barely knew most of these people, and of course you were harboring the guilt of your secret affair with their boss.

As if sensing the strain in your voice Miguel allowed his hand to brush your elbow. It was a small, barely discernible action, but it meant the world to you. It was all the comfort you needed.

‘I didn’t know you were invited though’ Peter mused aloud. ‘I thought it was just a spider thing.’

‘Oh, I was—’

‘I saw her walking by and she mentioned she was on break, I thought- she might enjoy this’ Miguel said, quickly dropping your alibi in the most monotone way possible. You just nodded along with his explanation.

‘Oh’ Peter noted, his finger slowly retracting. ‘So, you two do know each other?’

Miguel grunted, his brows knotting into that familiar look of mild annoyance. ‘Do we know- yes, of course we know each other. She cleans my office three times a week. I told you before, we’re friends.’

Peter nodded along slowly. He wasn’t saying anything, but of course his senses had peaked. He was curious in a way that was making Miguel squirm.

‘So you—’

The three of you turned in unison as a sharp cry filled the lobby. It was a baby’s cry, a sharp squeak of joy, one that all three of you instantly recognized.

‘May! May, no, you can’t be up there!’

The red-headed baby had found her way onto one of the beams and was eagerly crawling towards the fake holographic tinsel, trying to grasp it with her little baby hand.

‘NO! NO, honey, you can’t- you can’t touch that- I’m so sorry, I gotta go!’

Thankfully Peter abandoned your conversation to climb the wall in pursuit of his baby daughter. You sighed with relief, your hand brushing Miguel’s arm, but when you touched him you found he was unbelievably tense. You glanced up to find his eyes glued to the ceiling.

‘Mig?’ you whispered. He was grinding his jaw with his lips pursed, his eyes unmoving.

‘This is why I didn’t want to come’ he hissed. Before you could speak he’d pulled away to the craft table.

‘Ah- Mig, hey!’ You hurried after him, awkwardly sidestepping the other spiders to reach him. ‘Mig? Miguel? What’s up?’

You finally caught him as he tried to hide at the end of the craft table, shoving himself into the corner. You bit down any jokes you instinctively wanted to make about this enormous, gorgeous man trying to hide anywhere.

‘Mig, it’s okay. Talk to me.’

You sidled up beside him and glanced about the room, making sure no one else was coming over. You could physically hear Miguel grinding his teeth at this point.

‘I knew this is what it would be’ Miguel murmured. ‘I get invited out of pity. Everyone’s here with their friends, and their family, because that’s what its about, and they know—’

Miguel choked on the last word. You noticed his eyes were swimming ever so slightly.

In the corner Peter was bouncing May in his arms while trying to coax Mary to go beneath the holographic mistletoe. Jess was laughing as she held up a hologram, on which you could see the laughing face of her husband as he admired her stomach.

You suddenly noticed how many Peters, how many Marys, how many Gwens were spread out here. Everyone seemed so comfortable with each other, and many more were talking about visiting their aunts or parents.

When you looked up at Miguel again, he looked strained.

‘I- I’m gonna take a break’ Miguel grumbled.

‘Oh, already? Hey that’s okay. Do you want me to come?’

He shook his head. ‘No, I just- I need a minute. Alone.’

Without another word he turned and fled, rushing immediately to the nearest bathroom stall. He locked it hard.

Suddenly, you were alone too. You immediately felt your heart speed up.

Oh god, did you know anyone else here? You sort of knew Peter B. but he was busy with his family, and you sort of knew Jess but not well enough to just chat. Everyone else here was a passing acquaintance. You began to wander aimlessly from spot to spot as if to imply you knew what you were doing.

You stared at the food but didn’t partake in anything but a half-filled cup of eggnog which you sipped on for support. You passed by the secret santa board listing everyone intending to participate, just so you looked like you were pondering it with purpose. You noticed Miguel’s picture had been pinned up there, his sullen face lost amide a sea of smiles. You spotted at the top a big sign declaring that Peter B. was this year’s organizer. Ah, of course, it was Peter orchestrating all of this. You quickly walked away.

Eventually you just found a corner to skulk in while you waited for Miguel to return.

It was quiet at least. Peaceful. Calm. You could watch everyone else stand around and sing and watch May admire all the Christmas lights.

You smiled too as you watched her. It was hard not to. It was inevitable, though, that your mind would drift back to Miguel again.

You knew about Miguel’s past at this point. You knew about Gabi, about his loss, about his isolation. You knew it was hard for him seeing every other spider suffer but still ultimately have a family to go home to.

Had he ever experienced a Christmas with Gabi? Did he even get enough time for that?

You knew, deep down, the real reason he didn’t want to be here. It wasn’t the casual socializing or the fact they weren’t technically a workplace. Maybe those things played a small part in his disdain, but really it was clear that he couldn’t bear to be reminded of what he didn’t have.

You glanced to where Miguel had gone to hide, praying for the door to open. It didn’t. You sadly sank back into yourself.

‘Hey, what uh- what an interesting spot you picked.’

You jumped as an unfamiliar voice called to you from the right. It was one of the nebulous Peter Parker’s, a slightly older one it seemed, who’d come to stand beside you on the edge of the lobby. You forced a smile.

‘Hi! Ah… what- Can I help you?’

This new Peter grinned in a way that made you extremely uncomfortable.

‘Well, I mean if you’re asking. This is the right spot for that after all.’

Now you were sweating. Your eyes darting as he started to chuckle. Why was he laughing at you? Who was this?

You realized his friends, a group of other Peter’s, were in the corner giving him a thumbs up. Immediately your stomach dropped, and with bulging eyes you slowly looked upward.

There it was. Mistletoe. Your idiot self had wandered right under it without thinking.

‘Oh! Oh, oh my god, I am- I’m so sorry, no, I didn’t—’

‘God you’re adorably shy, especially for someone waiting underneath it’ this new Peter chortled. You felt your heart hammering. Oh god, where was Miguel? Where was he? You tried to lean and look for him in the crowd, but the new Peter suddenly leaned in front of you.

‘So, you were standing here for no reason?’ he teased. You stammered on your words.

‘No, I’m- I didn’t know it was there, I swear, I didn’t mean to be here—’

He reached up to grab the holographic sprig, taunting you with it as he waved it back and forth.

‘Hey, come on, you gotta follow the rules’ he chuckled. He must have thought he was being playful, just indulging in some banter, but you were horrified. You tried to step away.

‘No, no I’m not- playing around I’m serious—’

‘HEY!’

Your whole body jolted as you were suddenly thrust away from the older Peter. A giant, muscular, red and blue clad arm had swung itself between the two of you and embedded itself into the wall.

Miguel stared down at the man before him, his eyes burning red. His face had contorted with rage, and his claws had turned the concrete wall into dust where he’d struck it.

‘W-Woah, woah, you—’ The man tried to speak but Miguel snapped at him before he could give any kind of excuse. ‘What do you think you’re doing? She said no!’ he barked.

‘I thought- I mean she was under the—’

‘She said. No.’ Miguel was hissing so hard that spittle flew from between his clenched fangs. The man took a step back.

‘Boss, hey, come on—’

‘No. I won’t, come on. There is nothing else to say. She said no. I do not allow people, in my organization, who don’t listen to NO. Especially when it’s her—’

‘Hey, man I was just joking—’

‘Is anyone laughing?!’

Miguel’s sneer had turned into a disdainful smile at this point, a deeply sarcastic grin which bore no joy. Peter had raised his hands into a defensive stance at this point. He knew he’d messed up.

‘I do everything for you ungrateful people’ he seethed. ‘Everything. I give up- everything. And you’re trying to take the ONE THING I HAVE—’

Miguel paused his onslaught abruptly when a hand hit his shoulder, gently drawing him back from his rage. He turned, following the hand to its owner’s face, only to find Peter B. staring back at him with mortified eyes.

‘Mig’ he whispered. Miguel slowly darted his eyes towards the rest of the room.

Everyone had frozen in place to stare at the little mess you’d made. You cowered against the wall with your hands clutched to your chest, while Miguel just stared with his mouth agape. He was panting, his chest heaving as his anger began to slowly dissipate.

‘Buddy?’ Peter B. whispered. At this point the other Peter had used the distraction to flee back to his friends.

‘You okay, buddy?’

Miguel’s face began to warp. It went from rage, to embarrassment, to guilt, right back to rage again. He cast you a quick glance that you couldn’t discern before shoving his way through the crowd.

‘Hey! Hey, Miguel!’

Peter B. gave chase, and after a moment of being frozen you also followed suit. You both managed to follow him to the lobby door before losing track, as he used his claws to drag his body up into the endless sea of beams going up through the HQ.

You panted and stumbled to a stop beside Peter. You were both alone, standing in the corridor just outside the main lobby. You could still hear the gossipy whispers drifting out.

‘Shit… Shit, oh god- Mig’ you panted. ‘I’m so- sorry, shit—’

‘Hey, hey, don’t apologize’ Peter stammered. He was also out of breath. ‘Argh, god- I knew this would be a bad idea. I knew he’d get wound up.’

You panted once, twice, recouping your breath, before rounding on Peter yourself. ‘Then why did you do it?! Why’d you make Miguel get involved if you know he hates it?’ you hissed.

Peter held up both hands in defense. ‘Hey! I just- oh, god, I’m so out of shape- look, I’m not oblivious! I’m not tryna be mean, or rude, I don't even celebrate this stuff, but—I just don’t want him to be alone again.’

You paused your intended onslaught when you saw the sincerity in Peter’s eyes.

‘Alone, again?’ you repeated back. Peter nodded.

‘Yes! He doesn’t—he doesn’t have any family. Not here, not even in another universe, he’s… It’s a hard time of year when you’re alone, even for regular people, but, he’s—’

‘Anything but regular’ you murmured. Peter gave another grim nod.

You sighed, hard.

‘Look, Peter, we’re worried about the same thing’ you insisted. ‘But just- forcing him to spend time around other people who have what he doesn’t have, how does that help?’

Peter held up his hands in surrender. ‘Yeah, I- I know. I know. I just thought- Sometimes, when he looks at May or holds her, I catch him smiling to himself. I catch him making those soft little dad noises at her and, I just thought, maybe he wanted more of it?’

The mental image Peter was painting made your stomach knot. You could see it so clearly, Miguel’s old worn face lifting into a smile as May cooed at him, as she reminded him of those long dormant instincts. It made your heart hurt.

‘But then other times he- he looks so defeated, and I… Well, my good intentions don’t really matter, do they? Either way I screwed up. I should have just, locked you two in a room or something, eh?’

You blanched at his sudden curtness. ‘You- what? What, what are you- aha, what are you implying, Peter? There’s no—’

‘Shh, shh.’

You stiffened as Peter put one finger to your lips. ‘Don’t wear yourself out, little lady, I know what you and my dear friend Miguel are up to.’

You could feel your face getting warm, and you were sure he could tell. Peter’s stupid puppy dog smile crept back onto his face as he watched you squirm internally.

‘What I meant was, I should have just done what he wanted, not what I wanted. And I’m fairly sure all he wants is to sit in a dark room on a couch watching some stupid old soap opera film while you sit next to him and, I don’t know, gaze at him adoringly.’

Slowly your body began to loosen up. Peter was right, there was no point lying. You reached up to remove his finger from your mouth.

‘I’d have liked that too’ you murmured.

In that moment it didn’t feel like there was anywhere else to go. You’d hit a wall, and the two of you were forced to just pace in the corridor in thought. That was, until something Peter had said stuck out to you in retrospect.

‘Hey, um—’

You held up a hand, awkwardly gesturing for Peter to come closer. He obliged, his adorable puppy face tilting as you mulled over what you were about to do.

‘This secret santa thing, could… could you do me a favor?’

Peter’s eyes lit up. You hadn’t stated your intentions but he already knew where this was going. Yes, you and Miguel were meant to be a secret. Yes, Jess had stated very clearly that it wasn’t a good idea to indulge it. But god, Peter couldn’t help himself. He was a romantic at heart.

‘What kind of favor?’ he whispered.

You leaned in closer and whispered back. ‘You’re in charge of handing them out, right? I want you to shift the names around. I want you to give Miguel to me. Nobody has to know, cos... yanno, it’s secret, but… could you do that for me?’

Peter beamed. ‘I can do that one hundred percent, ma’am, without a single issue.’

You beamed back. ‘Perfect! Thanks Peter, ah- sorry for snapping at you earlier.’

‘Hey, it’s all water under the bridge.’

As Peter flapped his hands dismissively you gazed up at the beams above. You sighed again.

You were supposed to spend Christmas with your family this year like always. It’d been a while since you’d seen them after all, and it was always something you looked forward to when you got the chance.

But, you felt like there was someone who maybe needed you a little more this year.

…

It was Christmas eve and almost all of the spiders at the HQ had gone home. The place was eerily empty without the usual crowds. With heavy snow falling outside the place felt liminal, like a building outside of space and time.

It was in this sea of nothing that Miguel appeared. He was walking alone through the lobby at a speedy pace, dressed in just slacks and a t-shirt. He was trying his best not to linger. He didn’t like to think about how alone he was, nor did he like to dwell on the echo of his footsteps. The only man left, the only footsteps in the whole HQ.

The echo felt cruel to him. It was like laughter, reflecting back to him his own isolation. He felt so small.

He found his way to the elevator and rode it up to the tippy top of the HQ, and all the way up he mourned his situation.

He missed you. You hadn’t had time to speak properly after the party incident, and he missed you dearly. He was left to think about what you might be doing, somewhere far from here, relishing the holiday with family. What was your family like, he wondered? Mum, dad, both, neither? Did you have siblings to bond with, or nieces or nephews to gift presents too?

You were always so kind. So soft. He was sure you’d planned their gifts well in advance. He smiled at the thought of you panicking over gifts, or getting excited over whatever they’d gotten for you. He daydreamed about your gleeful, shining face beneath the glinting lights.

What a sweet, domestic image. He wanted more than anything to just cling to it for a little while longer, but fate was cruel. The elevator came to a stop and jolted him back to reality, as its doors peeled aside to reveal the empty corridor to his apartment.

His smile faded. He looked exhausted. With heavy steps he trudged his way to his front door.

‘I’m home’ he muttered as he pushed the door aside. It was a cruel routine he did every time he got back to his apartment, calling out to a family that didn’t exist. As expected, nobody replied. With a soft grunt he kicked off his shoes and began to fumble for the light.

‘Welcome back.’

Miguel jumped in his skin, his claws bursting out as his suit automatically covered his body. In a defensive position he slammed the light back on.

‘WHO’S THERE?!’

His narrowed eyes darted about the now lit apartment before falling on a single figure in the center of the room, a figure sitting perfectly cross legged on his messy couch.

His eyes widened. It was you.

‘You… nena?’

Miguel lowered his mask to reveal his utterly stupefied expression. You couldn’t help but smile.

‘Hey, aha- sorry for the uh, theatrics, but… I mean that was kind of the point, right?’

Your awkward laugh filled the apartment as Miguel tilted his head.

‘Why- why are you here? How did you get IN?’ he asked. As he phased away the rest of his suit you swung your legs over the edge of the couch, hands clasped in your lap. You were trying your best to look like you knew what you were doing.

‘Ah- you don’t lock your door, so- I just walked in.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You never lock your door’ you repeated gently. ‘You always forget, or you stay at work so late you never come back to lock it. You told me, last time I was here, remember?’

‘I… did, didn’t I’ he grunted. After a brief silent stare off Miguel turned and began silently taking off his shoes, leaving you sitting in the stillness.

You smiled to hide your anxiety. You couldn’t tell from his expression yet how he felt about your little jape, and you hadn’t even fully revealed your plan yet.

‘Nena, I am happy to see you, obviously, but…’

‘Obviously?’ you teased. He bashfully held up a hand.

‘Hey, come on, don’t start. You hid in my apartment without telling me, of course I’m going to be surprised, I would have jumped regardless of who it was.’

‘I know, I know, I’m kidding.’

Miguel shook his head. He looked exasperated but still mildly amused. ‘I am happy to see you, nena, really, but… as I was saying, why ARE you here?’

‘Well duh. I’m your secret santa.’

Miguel blinked. Now he looked even more confused.

‘You… Nena, you weren’t—’

‘On the ballot? No! I wasn’t. But SOMEHOW, I got on there! Call it uh- divine intervention, maybe—’

‘I’d call it Peter meddling’ Miguel grunted.

‘Ah, same thing! Don’t think about it!’

Miguel paused before properly responding to your shenanigans, opting instead to drop his stuff and slump onto the empty couch spot at your side. Your whole body bounced as he sat down.

‘Alright. I got it. So- Peter probably bribed you into spending Christmas with me, huh? Or did he blackmail you? Wait- nena, did he blackmail you?! I swear I will—’

‘What? No!’ You waved your hands and scoffed, quickly patting him back down from his brewing rage. ‘God you’re bad at this. I had a go at Peter for making you do holiday stuff when you were clearly unhappy, he said he only did it ‘cos he was trying to make you feel less lonely. So, I asked him myself to put me as your secret santa, and I planned this whole charade. Because I- also, want you to be happy, just, not by way of enforced socialization. I know you hate it.’

Miguel stared at you with his hand halfway down his jaw. He looked utterly stupefied.

‘You… I, will never understand you’ he said softly, the words barely a breath. You just kept your smile as wide as you could.

‘So- you’re—’

‘Happy secret santa!’

You interrupted Miguel’s attempted speech by dumping a huge wrapped present box on his lap. Miguel froze, his eyes locked on the box like it was a venomous snake, a perfect contrast to you as you eagerly slapped your thighs with excitement.

‘Go on! Open it!’

‘This- what is it?’ Miguel hissed. You reached out and incessantly patted his bicep.

‘It’s your- present! So open it! NOW!’

‘Okay! Okay! Ay Dios—’

With a soft grunt Miguel hurried to unwrap the box, shyly lifting the top flaps aside. He peered down into it while you clapped your hands beside him.

‘It’s…’

Miguel reached in and pulled out a handful of items.

‘It’s- so that’s that chocolate you mentioned months ago that you loved as a kid. The chilli one. I had to get it imported, I was SO worried it wouldn’t arrive but it did! Yay!’

Miguel slowly turned the wrapped candy over in his hand. ‘Nena, you—’

‘And that’s some new boxers. I hope you don’t mind, but I remember you said it’s the one thing you always run out of because you don’t wear anything else under the suit usually so you needed more— I made sure they were in your colors though!’

Miguel glanced down at the pack of boxers you’d brought him. They were, indeed, custom printed in red and blue. He just kept mumbling to himself, unable to form a real response.

‘And- I got you that copy of your favorite film, because I know you have everything digitized but you’re a sucker for just having things, it means Lyla can’t see ‘em, and… Oh, what’s that- OH! Yes, and I got you a voucher, for the canteen, I paid for like, a MONTHS worth of empanadas in advance so you or I can use those there for, like, maybe a week, knowing us.’

‘Nena, this is… really, thoughtful’ he murmured. You beamed.

‘At-at-at, it’s not over yet. And, finally, well… I thought, I could stay over, maybe. Keep you company. Spend Christmas here.’

Miguel’s mouth was agape.

‘Not like- I don’t want to um, make this more serious than it needs to be, like, this can be just a… friends with benefits, Christmas? I don’t know, what I’m saying is I just want to, you know, be here. With you. As a… whatever we are. For Christmas.’

Miguel, still stunned, slowly shook his head.

‘But, nena, your family—’

‘Ah, they’ll be fine! They’ve had me for every Christmas since I was BORN! That is like, an unfathomable amount of me to deal with’ you teased. Miguel’s solemn expression slowly tilted, his lips sliding into a half-smile.

‘Ah, so you’re offsetting their burden to me this year, huh?’

‘Mhm! You’re stuck with me.’

Bit by bit, Miguel’s heart melted. That cold exterior turned soft under your earnest smile. He slowly pushed the box of gifts aside so he could face you properly.

‘I- couldn’t think of a better gift, than being stuck with you’ he said. You felt a rush of warmth through your whole body, and instinctively tried to bat it away.

‘Aha, no, come on. Even the chocolate?’

‘It is, much, much better than that’ he said. His voice had gone unnervingly quiet, unnervingly gentle. You felt your heart flutter.

‘Well, I’m… glad. I’m, glad you’re happy I’m here. Now- do you wanna help me cook, maybe? I’m not sure what you’ve got but, we can make something work, right?’

Miguel nodded slowly. His eyes were utterly fixated on your face, on your little joyful dimples and wide eyes.

‘Sure. Sure, mi nena. I’d love that.’

You smiled so wide it hurt. ‘Mm. Good! Good. I’ll uh- get started then.’

Miguel watched as you scrambled to your feet and rushed to his tiny kitchenette. For just a moment, he decided to hang back. He was trying to hide his instinctual fear from you. He was happy, yes, deliriously so, but that scared him down to his core. He wasn’t supposed to be happy.

Had he let this go too far? He still wasn’t sure if any of this could get you hurt, if this somehow upset his canon. He was supposed to be alone after all, and yet, here you were.

With dilated eyes he glanced at the enormous glass wall overlooking the city. It was still snowing outside, heavy and hard, and Nueva was coated in a soft, dreamy blanket of white which glittered in the rainbow city lights.

It was beautiful. Serene. He bent and whispered into his watch.

‘Lyla?’

‘Yes?’

‘Ah- are there, any anomalies?’

‘No sir, none.’

Miguel’s eyes softened a little. Huh, he thought, no anomalies at all?

‘Are you sure?’ he whispered again. Lyla flashed a small red X at him over the watch.

‘None! None at all! I already said that!’

Part of him wanted to ask her a third time but he stopped himself. No, Lyla was trained to know this stuff, she had to be right. That meant this, at the very least, wasn’t breaking his canon. For now.

He stole a glance at you in the kitchen as you rummaged through his fridge. Even that small, mundane activity, watching you forage around and tut to yourself, made his heart a little less heavy. In fact, it made it light. The sight of your face smiling, the way you bit your tongue to concentrate as you separated food on the counter, it felt like bird wings fluttering in his chest.

‘Ay por Dios- I’m too old to be doing this’ Miguel mumbled to himself, but despite his gripes he was just too intoxicated to stop. It felt too good to be this content, this flushed and flighty and nervous. If this was safe, well, perhaps he could just stay here. Perhaps he could just stay with you, just the two of you, in this sweet heavenly limbo.

‘Okay. Ah- thank you, Lyla. That’s all’ he mumbled. Miguel went to close the receiver, but he paused at the last second. He decided to whisper one more thing.

‘Ah- merry Christmas, Lyla.’

‘You- what?’

Miguel grunted, already embarrassed, but he repeated it again. ‘I- I said, you know—’

‘Yeah I heard you, I’m just surprised’ Lyla crowed. ‘What’s got you all soft and mushy? Finally feeling the spirit of the season?’

Miguel refused to make eye contact as Lyla appeared in holographic form, her eyes roaming his dumpy apartment. It didn’t take long for her to notice you in the kitchen.

‘You- ooohhh. Oh. I got it.’

Lyla shot him a smug grin as she tilted her glasses. ‘Maybe not the spirit of the season, but you’re sure feelin’ something, huh boss?’

‘Get- out of here’ he hissed.

‘Merry Christmas boss. You two be safe now.’

Before Miguel could snap anything back Lyla phased herself away. She even made a point of switching his watch off for him, a subtle indicator that she knew he ought to be alone with you right now.

Miguel took her advice and gently slipped his watch off. It would be fine on the counter. Now fully certain that the two of you were alone, he rose to his feet and joined you in the kitchen. He had only one thing left on his mind.

You were busy sorting out leftovers when you felt his shadow at your back. The weight of his pecs pushed in against your head as his hips brushed your rear, very lightly pressing you against the counter.

‘Oof- oh, hey! There you are, you okay?’

You tilted your head back, a goofy smile spread across your face, only to have it immediately wiped.

Miguel wasn’t offering his same slightly stilted smile. He had an expression that you were now very familiar with, but it wasn’t one you were expecting to see right now. Those half-lidded eyes, that open smile, the way his breath condensed slightly as it huffed between his bared fangs. You felt the red light of his gaze gawking at you, admiring just how small you looked against his chest.

He pushed a little closer and you oomphed again.

‘Ah- h-hey, Miguel, you—’

‘I didn’t get you a present’ he said slowly. You watched as each of his clawed hands came down on the counter, trapping you in. Your body trembled with excitement.

‘You- you didn’t’ you stammered back. He seemed to be enjoying your little quivers.

‘I feel bad’ he murmured. ‘Mi nena went to, such lengths for me. So I want to give you something too.’

You tensed up with anticipation. Your whole body was on fire, and you couldn’t wait to—

Right in the middle of your fantasizing, Miguel pulled away. You watched as he withdrew and hurried off to the edge of his bed.

‘Ah… Mi- ahem, uh- Miguel?’

He didn’t reply. He was busy pulling out a draw and rummaging through its contents. You watched in a daze.

After a minute or so Miguel finally hurried back to your side, his hand now held behind his back. You tried to put on a grateful smile.

‘Aha, hey, so uh- what, what did you—’

Halfway through speaking he interrupted you again, this time by forcing some unseen object into your palm. It felt cold, whatever it was. Hard and cold. He closed your fist around it with both his hands.

‘For you, mi nena. Okay, now… look.’

Miguel slowly withdrew his hands, allowing you to unfurl your fist.

It was a key. Or, more specifically, a keycard, used to swipe open doors in the HQ. You had one yourself for cleaning people’s private offices, but you’d never seen one like this. You couldn’t help but frown.

‘What- wait, wait is this your— is, this your apartment key?’

Miguel’s affectionate smile was answer enough. You couldn’t hide the flood of excitement and surprise that overcame you.

‘OH! Oh, I- are you sure? Like, really- you’re sure, Mig? I don’t wanna pressure you, like—’

‘I’m sure, nena. I’m very sure.’

‘Oh my god- but, again I just- are you ABSOLUTELY sure?’

Miguel rolled his eyes a little. ‘Yes. Nena, I am sure.’

‘But you’re SURE you’re—MMF!’

In a spontaneous move Miguel bent down and roughly drew you up into a kiss. He was ravenous enough that you dropped his key to the floor, and passionate enough that all your thoughts turned to mush.

You melted into his grip as he pushed you against the counter, uttering the weakest moan you could as he parted your lips and began exploring your mouth with his tongue. The little nips of his fangs, the way his tongue bullied yours until you were drooling down the side of your mouth, it made your legs weak. Luckily his claws were there to hold you up.

‘Mmm- mm!’

Without words he hoisted you into his arms, letting your legs struggle to wrap around his waist. He was too big for you to fit but he was strong enough to hold you regardless, and indeed he relished in the chance to sneak a squeeze at your rear as he did so. Your hands gripped his muscular neck for dear life.

‘Nena—' he hissed between kisses, ‘mi nena- mi nena.’

Your back hit the wall as he pushed you up. He was getting rougher. His teeth kept hitting yours as the make-out grew messy, and his claws were digging small holes into your clothes. You gingerly bit his lip and he returned the favor.

When he pulled back you were panting for air.

‘Mig—f-fuck, Miguel—’

‘No talking’ he barked, pressing a firm kiss to your neck. You arched it back so he could access it more easily, and with an approving grunt he ran his tongue from collarbone to jaw.

‘Unless you’re screaming for me, no words’ he hissed in your ear. ‘I want to show mi nena, why you’re the best gift I could get.’

‘F-Fuck—’

As you tried to catch your breath he pressed his lips to your neck once more, gently kissing from spot to spot as if searching for something.

‘I want- to do something for you, nena. Something you said you wanted.’

‘You—what do you mean—’

He gave you no time to even respond before sinking his heavy fangs into your neck. All you could do was squeak.

It always surprised you just how big he was, how powerful. You felt his teeth moving beneath the skin as his lips sucked, a strange miasma of warmth, stinging pain and pleasure that lulled you into submission.

‘A-Ah- Mig—’

Your mouth fell open into a brainless gasp as he clamped his jaw on your frail skin.

‘Mm- mmm-‘

He let out a muffled moan as he started to slowly seep venom into your blood. The pleasure seemed to be too much for him as well, as he’d started to impatiently dry hump your body into the wall. Now penetrated on his teeth and crushed by his torso, you could do nothing but moan.

After god knows how long he retracted his teeth, carefully licking the wounds he’d left. You whined. You were lightheaded but not paralyzed this time, as it seemed he’d controlled the flow of venom. The rest was drooling down his chin and staining his shirt. He grunted and wiped it on the back of his hand, all while easily maintaining your weight with just one palm.

‘Good girl’ he groaned. ‘You okay?’

You gave a dreamy nod. ‘Y-Yeah… fuck yeah, just- you said, we couldn’t do that. I-It’s too noticeable.’

His self-satisfied grin made you even dizzier. ‘That’s my present to myself’ he purred, carefully admiring his work. Your neck was bruised and red from the hickey, with four clean marks showing his distinctive marking. He kissed each mark. ‘It’ll heal by the time everyone gets back, but, for tonight—’

You tensed as he leaned in, his breath brushing your ear. ‘You’re mine. And I will mark you as such.’

You whimpered at those words, something which stroked his ego to unimaginable degrees. He couldn’t contain his throbbing need any longer.

‘Now- let me give you your second gift’ he purred.

With your body suspended in his hands he began to teasingly rip each piece of clothing aside. He started slow, just using his fangs to gingerly unclasp each button of your blouse, but his cock was throbbing painfully in his pants at this point and the teasing was too much.

He resorted to just ripping it all to shreds, all while whispering that he’d buy you a new outfit.

Once you were fully naked in his palms he allowed his organic webs to stick you to the wall, with legs spread and arms pinned at your sides. He manipulated it to look like a shibari rope, perfectly highlighting each little part of you he loved. He whistled.

‘Gorgeous, nena. Mi nena hermosa.’

You were panting now, flushed and just a little shy to be no more than a display on his wall. You felt his clawed hands sink into your thighs as he patted them, enjoying the way the fat and muscle squeezed between his fingers.

‘Mine’ he whispered.

‘Ah- Mig—’

He crept closer and gently pressed his lips to your spread slit. His arm was hooked around your right leg, holding you close as he breathed you in. The feel of hot air hitting your clit made you squirm.

‘Mine.’

He repeated that word, once, with such vigor it scared you, before finally allowing himself to lick at your cunt. Your breathy moan filled his apartment.

‘Mig, f-fuck—!’

Your whole body shuddered as he began to messily make out with your spread sex, his lips and tongue ravenously moving between starving licks and hard sucking. You watched his head gently arch and bob back and forth with each movement.

Your clit was swollen at this point, with a desperate need to be touched, and each warm, wet, rough flick of his tongue was sending the most gratifying jolts of pleasure through your body.

‘Please, please, more’ you whined.

Miguel had tried to offset his own need by palming at his hard cock over his slacks, but he was just too aroused at this point. With a grunt he pulled back and manically ripped his pants down.

‘Fuck- you’re delicious.’

He jerked at his boxers until his cock sprung forth. You could see the little strings of precum already coating his lower belly and shirt, and internally whined that you didn’t get to lick them off yourself.

You watched as he started to stroke himself, his cock straining in his fist as he returned his tongue to your clit. You knew he was trying to make you jealous.

‘Eyes on me, nena’ he murmured, deliberately speaking close enough that you could feel his full lips moving over your spread sex. You squirmed in the bindings.

‘F-Fuck- you can’t show me that and- tell me not to look.’

He chuckled a little at your insistence. He couldn’t help but indulge. He was so used to despising his amalgamated body that seeing the way you foamed at the mouth for him was both arousing and comforting. He wanted to see you whine and strain, begging for his cock. He wanted to see you eye his muscled body like a starving animal.

‘My poor nena’ he cooed. ‘You want to look that badly?’

You nodded furiously. ‘Please- please, please—’

‘Okay. As you wish.’

With a smug final kiss to your inner thighs Miguel drew back from your body, instead bracing himself before you as he continued to stroke his cock.

You got a perfect view of his body like this, just like you wanted, but as punishment you were left wet and shaking with no stimulation.

‘M-Miguel, come on’ you whined. He shook his head.

‘No, nena, you get what you asked for.’

God, he did look good though. It was all you had to distract yourself from the aching throb of your clit as it begged for release.

You started by honing in on his face. That chiseled jaw, those full lips and narrowed, almond eyes, burning red in the dim light, it was a look that haunted your most perverse dreams nearly every night.

You swallowed hard and allowed your eyes to roam down. His body was just as enticing, after all.

His huge, sloped shoulders rippled as he rolled them, perfectly framing his fat, rounded pecs beneath his shirt. Your eyes drifted to the mounds of his abs, the way his waist and hips dipped in before sloping out to form his heavily muscled thighs.

You wanted to touch him so bad. You wanted your face in those pecs, you wanted your hands stroking the firm, sharp V cut of his pelvis leading down to what you wanted the most. His cock, now straining in his hand, thick and almost alarmingly girthy, its tip already glistening with pre-cum.

You strained in your web a second time.

‘Miggy- please, please, I’ll do anything!’

‘Muy preciosa’ he groaned. His own eyes were roaming now, eagerly gawking at your spread and naked body. You spied his cock throbbing as he looked at you and flushed, your skin glowing beneath the sweat now beading on your temples.

‘F-Fuck… this is so cruel—’

‘It’s what you wanted.’

‘I need you, please—’

‘Be patient, nena.’

He bit his lower lip as he started to peak, his own eyes glued to your spread legs, spying the little drips of slick sliding down from your desperate hole.

It was getting hard for him to hold back. He liked teasing you, yes, but it was almost painful to look and not touch like this. He wanted to bury himself in your hair as he rutted inside you, he wanted to bite your neck as he thrust your body into a mewling mess.

He wanted it. He wanted to penetrate you.

For just a second, in the heat and the passion and the peaking desperation, his mind lapsed. He indulged in that one perverse fantasy he tried his best to hide. He thought about cumming in you, and he thought about it sticking. He thought about cumming in you and knowing it would get you pregnant.

A low shudder ran up from his toes to his head, and he was forced to slow his fist to avoid coating the floor in his seed.

‘Fuck… fuck, okay. Okay. Teasing over.’

With a snap of his teeth he stormed back over and practically buried his face in your cunt. You jolted at the sudden intrusion.

‘M-Miguel—’

Your pleading turned to mewling whines as his full, flat tongue began bullying your clit, eagerly rubbing and stroking that sensitive nub while his hands got busy. With one hand still fisting his cock he allowed the other to slide up and inside you, filling you with two of his fingers.

‘F-Fuck--!’

‘Be good, nena.’

You bit your lip hard as he started to move his calloused fingers in and out. His skin was rough as it stroked your cunt, and he made sure that you felt it. He wanted to feel you, wanted to feel every tensing muscle and throbbing nerve, every wet little inch of that cunt he craved so badly to possess. He wanted to imprint himself on your insides.

As he began to fuck you with his fingers his lips buried themselves back into your folds, sucking ravenously at your clit. The double pressure was too much for you to take.

‘Miggy—fuck, ‘s so good—’

You could see Miguel’s eyes glazing over. It was his favorite thing, to put your pussy on his lips and taste you, to feel your wetness on your tongue. The taste, the sensation, it all made him feel drunk, but it was also so vulnerable of you to let this monster put you inside his mouth.

His soft nena, his sweet nena, letting him eat you out. Letting him coat you in his bodily fluids.

‘Cum for me’ he grunted. His fingers began to speed up. ‘Cum- for- me’ he begged, aggressively licking you between each word.

You had no escape; you obeyed. You climaxed on his mouth almost violently, straining and spasming with each throb of pleasure.

‘Miguel- f-fuck--!’

Miguel groaned as he felt you gush over his fingers. His eyes were hazy, his fangs bared. It was too much.

In a blur he used his claws to crawl up the wall, positioning himself so that his pelvis fell between your legs. He pushed down and began furiously grinding his bare cock against your clit, ridding out your orgasm with you.

‘F-Fuck, careful- c-careful, its- sensitive- m-mm—’

Your pleading went unheard over his panic panting and grunting. You lay back and let him grind out his frustration, his need, and allowed yourself instead to lull in the pleasure of his overstimulation.

‘So… fucking, good… soft little nena, fuck- you’re delicious.’

With a soft whine Miguel dropped back down, idly cutting you free as he went. He caught your body bridal style.

‘Ah- well, I-I think your present beat mine’ you panted. You were still lightheaded from cumming and had a dumb little dreamy smile on your face, and all you could think to do was tease him.

Miguel didn’t laugh. Without a word he carried your body across the apartment.

‘Ah- Miggy?’

Miguel gently put your body on the ground, allowing you to steady yourself before moving away.

‘Put this on.’

You jumped as he began manically pulling one of his shirts over your head, one so large on you that it looked like a dress. The moment your arms were through the holes he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder again.

‘M-Mig? What- what are we doing?’

You oomphed as he lowered you back to the floor and spun you around. Your eyes widened; you were pressed right against the open window wall of his apartment. He pressed you into it, hard enough that your breasts and belly were squished against the cool glass. Even with the t-shirt on it was cold.

‘I’m showing off my soft little thing’ Miguel purred. You realized, then, that he was stripping the last of his clothes off behind you.

‘Mig—’

‘Not completely, of course’ he whispered in your ear. ‘Only I get to look at you naked. But… I will happily demonstrate that you’re mine.’

With another low grunt he lifted you back up. He kept one arm braced around your waist and the other on your inner right thigh, spreading your legs apart as he lifted you to the exact right height. The perfect height, where his hips could slot in against your rear and his cock could brush up against your slit.

You let out a soft pant. You were horrified about being seen like this, but, were you? Was it not causing your post-orgasm body to throb with absolute delight? Was it not causing our insides to tense with desire?

After all, you wanted to be his, didn’t you? You wanted that mark on your neck. You liked the idea, secretly, of everyone knowing what he’d done to you. You started to tremble with excitement.

His breath stirred your hair as he adjusted his stance. You could feel his bulbous member nudging at your pussy, begging it to take him.

‘Miggy- fuck, please, please do it.’ Your hole was clenching around nothing, desperate to be filled. Miguel chuckled.

‘What do you want?’

‘I want- I want you to fuck me.’

‘Who do you want to fuck you?’

‘F-Fuck- ah, M-Miguel, I want you to fuck me, please—’

The breath was knocked from your lungs as he forced his cock inside you. He had to push a few times to get deeper, gently but urgently coaxing your muscles to loosen up, but with a final sigh he pushed in and bottomed out. You winced, your fingers scraping on the glass.

‘Mm- good girl nena, that’s it. Just- stay still for me. You’ll adjust. Good girl. Good girl.’ He was already panting, his chest heaving like a drowning man taking that lifesaving breath.

You bit your lip until it bled. God, you could feel him sliding around inside you. His little explorative slips were creating the most toe-curling sounds; soft, wet squishing noises, mixed with the soft slap where he’d bottomed out and was hitting his pelvis against your rear.

‘You like that, nena?’

You manically nodded your head. ‘M-Mhm, mhm.’

Your legs were shaking. He was deep enough to hurt, deep enough that whenever you moved even an inch you could feel his cock pressing into those soft walls. He was stretching you hard; he’d filled all the space available and then forced you to make more. How did you keep forgetting how large he was?

‘Good, good.’ Miguel stretched his neck and settled himself into a more comfortable position. With both hands bracing your waist and hips, he angled himself to start thrusting. ‘Now, stay like that, and let’s give them a good show, eh?’

Before you could respond he’d started to fuck you, his hips bucking to get deeper. You moaned aloud.

He was rough from the start, eagerly rutting against your rear in a way that made the most erotic smacking sound. The glass was cold on your bare chest and belly as he pushed you up against it.

‘M-Miguel—’

‘Shh, you’re doing good nena. You- feel so, so good.’

His breath condensed against the glass with each hard pump he took. Each rhythmic thrust was perfectly timed with his hot, heavy panting.

‘Fuck… fuck, you’re- so big—’ Your attempt at praise was jolting into fragments, as each hard slip of his cock was enough to wind you completely. Miguel’s grip tightened as he pushed you harder against the glass.

‘You’re so small, nena’ he purred. ‘How do you take it so well?’

You mewled as he angled himself to kiss your cervix, a sensation that ached while still being unbearably pleasurable. Your body was like a limp doll in his hands, stretched and fitted to his massive girth.

‘You’re mine’ he groaned.

‘You’re mine. Mine- mine—’

He gave three hard thrusts to match each utterance of his claim over you, each once drawing another loud moan from you. The city lights blazed around your body as he held you up and rutted between your legs.

‘Mine—mine—’

Through the snow it was hard to tell if anyone could have seen you. Someone in one of the skyscrapers across the road could certainly get a view of your silhouette’s manically fucking against the window, and that was enough to make you clench.

You wanted to be his. You were his.

But then, right on the cusp of some utterly gratifying peak, Miguel pulled out of you. His cock sent a pool of slick dribbling down your thighs to the floor where it formed a small puddle, an embarrassing display of how much you’d been squirting.

Usually Miguel would have teased you for it, but he was manic right now.

‘Fuck it- I need to look at you.’

He pulled your body up bridal style and carried you back over to his unmade mattress, throwing you onto it with little delicacy or thought. He was too horny for that.

Now on your back he ripped his own shirt from your body and threw it aside. You didn’t even get a chance to speak. All you could do was moan as he split your legs apart and pushed in between them, easily slipping his girthy shaft back inside you with a guttural groan.

‘Fuck- fuck, you look so good.’

His eyes were fixed on you as he started to rut again, his hips bucking and smacking your pelvis until it was numb. Your hands flew up to his neck where you held on as hard as you could.

He wanted it all. He watched each part of you that bounced when he thrust into you. He watched your eyes roll and your coy little lip bites when your cunt squelched for him. He watched the way you winced and mewled when he kissed your cervix with his cock. His hands suddenly grabbed your wrists and pinned them down, forcing you to face him.

‘You like that, nena?’

‘Ye- f-fuck- yes, y-yes—’

You’d been fucked dumb at this point. You could barely get a word out. Miguel smirked.

‘Are you mine?’ he barked.

‘Yes.’

‘Say it.’

‘I-I’m yours, Miguel.’

His fangs flexed as he started to thrust harder. He pulled out all the way and then snapped his hips, penetrating your sopping pussy as deep as he could, until the overstimulation became too much for you and he resorted to just roughly humping with short, fast thrusts while halfway inside.

You were pathetic at this point. You’d drooled on his pillow and your slick was pooling on the unmade sheets. You’d cum a second time during his erratic thrusting, but you hadn’t even had the strength to tell him. All you could do was worship, meekly moaning his name with each thrust.

‘Miguel—Miguel—Miguel—’

Once again, on the verge of climax, Miguel indulged. He just couldn’t stop that intrusive fantasy.

He pictured himself somewhere else, anywhere but here, holding you down in his hands as he fucked to completion. You were his, all his, and he didn’t have to hide you or fear you. Perhaps you were his wife, or fiancé at the least. He could be your husband. He was yours, and you were all his, and now he was going to finish in you. He was going to breed your perfect little body. He was going to get you pregnant, because you wanted him, and you wanted to carry his babies.

He bent back to watch his cock as it penetrated. He was thrusting hard and thrusting fast, desperately pumping back and forth.

‘Mi nena’ he whined. ‘I’m going to cum in you now, okay?’

You felt every curve, every inch, every throb as he got closer to his own climax. You could tell he was close because he was getting erratic. His rhythmic pumps were becoming animalistic.

‘A-Ah- please, Miggy, fuck- please cum in me.’

Your hands scrabbled to hold onto anything as his groans got louder. Those words from you were too much for him to handle.

‘Gonna- cum in you- so hard—’

‘Miguel!’

With one extra loud groan he ejaculated, thrusting hard with each spurt to ensure it got as deep as possible. He wanted you to take it all, and you did. You were frozen in place, trapped, taking every inch of the larger man’s load. Those thick, white ropes filled every inch, all warm and wet and heavy.

Miguel whined as his thrusts slowed, until at last he rocked to a halt.

He’d done it again. He’d slipped back into the fantasy, imagining just briefly as his orgasm took over that he was breeding you. Now as he struggled to catch his breath, he felt that lingering guilt and shame.

Luckily, he had you here to wash away that guilt. He looked down and watched you pant beneath him, your lips parted and eyes utterly glazed over. Your muffled moans of satisfaction filled him with pride.

‘Good girl’ he whispered. He bent and pressed a kiss to your sweaty forehead. ‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’

‘N-No, no, it… mm…’

You tried to speak but quickly collapsed again into a mushy pile of pleasure and exhaustion, something Miguel found very privately amusing.

‘Alright, just- stay still, I’ll, get you a towel.’

Miguel slid out of you carefully. He watched his seed drip out as he pulled away, clinging to his shaft and pooling from your hole. He heard you give another muffled moan as he released you from the heavy weight of his cock.

God it made him dizzy. Even knowing that it couldn’t do what he wanted it to do, it still made him rabid. As he pulled out fully he couldn’t help himself; he used two fingers to sneakily push some of his cum back inside you. It felt wrong, yes, but it felt too good to not do. It sent shivers up his spine, and even post-orgasm his cock twitched as he watched himself stuffing you with it.

With that guilty indulgence out of the way he did then do what he’d promised, pulling on his boxers and rushing to find you a towel while you lay face down in his bed. When he returned after a few minutes of looking for a clean one, you were still in the same position.

‘Nena?’

You awkwardly waved your hand to show you were alive. Miguel chuckled again. He gently bent at the knee and helped clean the mess he’d made of your thighs, all while you moaned and shifted in the sheets. He quickly tossed the used towel onto the pile already filling his hamper before crawling back into bed with you.

‘Mi nena.’ He immediately shoved his face into your hair, breathing in your scent. You squirmed until you were pressed right against him.

‘Hey there, bestie.’

Miguel snorted a laugh. ‘Alright. Fine. I did say you could do it in private.’

‘Mhm.’

With a sigh Miguel rolled onto his back and puffed up the pillows at his back, allowing him to lie slightly propped up while you clung to his side. You nestled your cheek into his pec as your arm explored his belly.

You weren’t sure how long you dozed beside him. There was something especially comforting about lying side by side, completely naked and alone beneath a thin sheet, slowly warming yourselves off of each other’s body heat.

You were so cozy, for lack of a better word. You were safe, warm, wanted. And so was he.

As the sky turned dark and the snow gained a ghostly glow against the windowpane, Miguel gently shook you awake.

‘Hey, nena?’

You rolled your eyes up to his face.

‘Yeah?’

‘You awake?’

‘Well I am now.’

Miguel’s half-smile betrayed just how uncommon it was for him to smile anymore, but as he watched your grumpy little face nestle into his chest it became a little easier to do.

‘I… ah, okay. How do I say this…’

He smooshed his cheek as he gazed into the distance, his foot nervously tapping on the mattress edge. You tilted your head.

‘You okay?’

He shot you a glance as his hand came down to his jaw. There was a strange intensity to his eyes that took you off guard.

‘Mig?’

Slowly, bit by bit, that smile returned. It was strained, yes, but soft as well.

‘I like you’ he said. You blinked.

‘You… what?’

‘I like you’ Miguel repeated. He sounded a little more confident this time. ‘I… I like you a lot.’

You blinked again, unsure of how to respond. You defaulted to that same awkward, lopsided smile he’d given you earlier. ‘Aha, oh boy. Uh- I mean I like you too, but that’s a bit—’

‘No, no.’

Your eyes widened as he put a claw to your lips, smooshing them shut. As he smiled at you again he tilted his head, a move so adorable it made you squeak. It was so oddly vulnerable to see such a huge, chiseled man beaming with his head tilted like a curious dog.

‘No. I know what you’re thinking. That’s what someone says when they don’t want to admit they love someone. It’s a cop out, right?’

You shyly nodded and shrugged, trying to downplay how you’d felt, but he didn’t seem offput. His smile widened.

‘I don’t mean it like that, and I can prove it, but- first, just hear me out, okay?’

You nodded again, and watched as Miguel withdrew his claws from your mouth. He slid them down your lips to your chin, carefully resting that hooked, curved point on the soft fat beneath, and with the slightest of ease he tilted you to meet his gaze.

‘I like you’ he said softly. ‘I like you, just- as a person. And I don’t know the last time I’ve admitted that. I’ve met… thousands, millions of people, across a thousand universes, and in maybe 0.001% of cases I realize, I like this person.’

You felt your cheeks glowing under the intensity of his stare.

‘But I like you, and worse, I like you so much more than any of them. You’re so, kind, and carefree, and interesting and funny and... I used to think you were naïve, but you’re not. You’re worried, all the time, like me, but you try so hard to still be kind. I don’t get how you do it. Maybe I never will, but- I admire it. I adore it. And, I adore you. You’re just, so… so, ah- what’s the word…’

‘Soft?’ you mumbled. He actually let out a soft chuckle at that, and this one wasn’t sarcastic.

‘Yeah. You’re soft. My… soft, thing.’

You felt the heat growing in your face, and with it the glow increased. You pouted to try and offset how obvious it was that you were fawning over him.

‘I- I like you too, beautiful man’ you replied.

Miguel’s smile widened until you could see his fangs. For just a brief moment, you watched those soft smile lines erase all the hard, angry wrinkles in his face, revealing a strange vulnerability beneath.

‘I love you, nena’ he whispered.

You were mortified. Not from the words, but from your reaction. A high-pitched whine escaped your throat as your whole body tensed, your heart thundering in your chest, and as you tried to bite it all down at once you nearly made yourself sick. It must have shown because Miguel’s smile immediately dropped.

‘Ah, nena, are you—’

‘YEAH I’M GOOD! I’M—FUCK—I LOVE YOU TOO!’ you stammered in a manic cry.

Miguel looked a little offput at first, clearly confused, but it quickly dawned in him that you were panicking. He snorted back a laugh as you buried your face in your hands.

‘Oh my god I’m so sorry—’

‘No, nena, you didn’t do anything wrong’ Miguel soothed. He put a hand on your back and began to rub, all while you continued to make muffled apologies into your palms. ‘You’re all good.’

‘I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—’

‘Why are you sorry, nena?’ he asked. You felt him put a sympathetic cheek against the crown of your head. ‘Do you have any idea how happy that made me?’

When you continued to whine Miguel opted to just grab you, pulling your whole body into a tight embrace. He forced your head between his pecs and your arms to his chest, while his muscular legs came around to encapsulate your own.

As the snow swirled outside he cradled you against him, warm and safe, totally cut off from the rest of the world. You felt your eyelids drooping.

‘I love you’ you whispered. Miguel fought the urge to cry.

‘I love you too.’

Somewhere a clock chimed, beeping to indicate that midnight had passed.

‘Merry Christmas, Mig’ you whispered into his chest. He squeezed you a little tighter.

‘Merry Christmas, nena.’

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #long read #a fortunate mistake #fem reader #x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #smut with plot #smut and fluff #christmas fluff fic

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gracefireheart · 8 days

Text

Got DnD on my mind, so here's Demoman as an Elf Blood Hunter, Medic as a Tiefling Cleric, and Heavy as a Half-Orc Barbarian 💃

Btw, if you haven't already, please go and sign the petition for #FixTF2 that's on this site right here: https://save.tf/

A few side notes for these three drawings:

If you're wondering what race and class (and maybe subclass) I chose for the rest of the squad, you can read the post I made right here. And since making that post, I also tried assigning backgrounds as well (that comes with the basic DnD Player's Handbook). Demoman would be (as you can obv see) a Sailor, but moreso specifically the Pirate variant. Medic meanwhile would be a Sage (that was actually pretty well respected, but then did something that got him kicked out). And I thought that Heavy would probably be a Hermit. As for what I picked out for the others; Soldier is a Soldier, Spy is a Criminal (Spy variant), Scout is a Charlatan, Sniper is an Outlander, Engineer is a Guild Artisan, and idk what to pick for Pyro between Folk hero, Urchin, and Noble.

At first, I was a bit iffy what to pick for Demoman between him being an Elf, Half-Elf, and a Minotaur. But then I said "Fuck it. I don't care if Elves are supposed to have lighter skin and straighter hair or whatever, let this handsome af man be an Elf with long, curly hair." I like it :)

I had such a struggle trying to figure out how to color Medic's outfit o(-( At first, it was going to be a lot of off-white colors with a bit of red, then some off-white along with some red and black, then darker colors with some red, so on and so forth. Ngl, it tired me out a lil' orz Oh, and his holy symbol is an amulet he has hidden away in his clothing.

The staff Medic's holding is something I tinkered around with quite a few days ago riiiight here. Idk, I just really liked how the staff looked :')

Imo, I was a bit lazy with Heavy's outfit orz Mostly 'cause I have no clue how to spice up Barbarian clothes besides "give it a bit of fur."

#I was going to draw Sniper (who would be a Firbolg Ranger). but my energy was getting pretty low. so I decided to not draw him #Sorry to the Sniper fans óvò #my art #Team Fortress 2 #TF2 Fanart #TF2 Demoman #TF2 Medic #TF2 Heavy #FixTF2

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reidshearts · 1 month

Text

new roomie?

pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson reader

content: swearing, mentions of drugs, idiot steve

y/n henderson had always envies her younger brother. I mean come on, how had Dustin Henderson manage to gain five more friends than her. the only friend y/n had was the infamous willow roth, ex-cheerleader at hawkins high and your current roommate at college. they had been strangers before bumping into each other at a fresher's week party, coincidently studying the same subject; law.

you two became best friends and lived in the same flat until willow got suspended for multiple instances of being caught with weed on the campus along with other drugs, however with a record as clean as her's and straight grades she got lucky and no law enforcements were called.

"do your seriously have to leave!", you exclaimed, laying on your back on the bed with your head dangling off "- i mean it wasn't that bad...right will?"

your best friends mouth curled into a smile as she witnessed your antics, "it was going to happen eventually y/n, anyways robin was telling me about this hot new guy who joined, something about going to high school with him back in Hawkins". now this caught your attention as you roll off the bed with a thud onto your stomach.

"first of all ouch and secondly you say that as if im obsessed and fall in love with every guy i see!" you huff, sitting up against your bed, earning a look of disbelief from willow.

"alright fine! how hot on a scale of ten? also what subject is he taking? does he have a girlfriend because that is the biggest question i need to know-"

"-slow down y/n/n ! and to answer your questions, ten out of ten, i think some sports or doctor related thing, and i dont know ask robin when you next see her! anyways shouldn't you start cleaning the flat since your new roomie should be arriving in 20 minutes?!" replies willow with a hand on her hip.

"jeez okay mum!", reluctantly standing from your position on the floor to fling yourself into willows arms "but first a goodbye hug!!"

after 10 more minutes of goodbyes with lots of tears and laughing, you began the cleaning which didn't take too long seeing as all the rooms were tiny! while wiping the counters in the kitchen you heard the jingle of keys and the opening of the front door, so you threw the cloth in the sink and flattened out your skirt before making your way into the view of the door.

you slightly flinch as the door slammed against the wall behind it as her new roommate came into view lugging suitcases and a backpack inside, looking up at the stranger before you, you struggled to get the words out.

My gods he was pretty, mousy brunette hair with lighter brown highlights were illuminated from the sun streaming through the kitchen blinds. you didn't know whether it was from the heat or if he was naturally glowing that caused your eyes to widen as you shamelessly checked him out. clearing your throat you draw your eyes away and caught yourself from where they were to soon follow his torso down lower and smile back up at him.

"y/n", you exclaimed loudly before clearing your throat and beginning again , "Sorry hi I'm y/n henderson!"

Shaking his head at the abruptness as he takes his turn to admire you and he smiles widely before if falls with shock and confusion after processing what you had just said, "Henderson? shit"

He can not be falling for dustin's sister!

#steve harrinton fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steveharrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #dustin henderson #stranger things imagine #stranger things au #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x yn #steve harrington x you #steve harrington au

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practicalsolarpunk · 9 months

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Hello! I live in a very small efficiency apartment where there is not a lot of wi dow space/the window is glued shut and the land is exclusively owned and maintained by the company. What can I do to incorporate more solarpunk practices into my life? Are there any plants that can still grow well indoors? I'm afraid to start up a water station or anything like that outside because I'm afraid maitenance will mess with it/remove it. Would it be better for me to do something like knitting/embroidery that I can more easily do indoors?

Hello! As a fellow apartment-dweller with not a lot of window space currently, I feel your struggle here. If you're concerned that maintenance will mess with anything you put outside, then it probably is best to focus on things you can do indoors. However, there are quite a few things you can do indoors!

Plants: If you're looking for experience growing things, there are a variety of plants that grow well indoors and with low light - here's one list. (I've heard spider plants and snake plants recommended to beginners a lot, but I've never personally grown either.)

Fiber crafts: If you're more interested in crafts like knitting and embroidery, go for it! I also recommend people who are interested in those types of things learn about mending as well - it's a great way to extend the life of your old clothes (and other things made of fabric) and reduce the amount you need to buy.

Cooking: Cooking is a great skill to have, but it can be a challenge in an efficiency apartment. If you have a cooktop or a crock pot, you can look for simple recipes that you can make with the space and tools you have.

Building community: One of the foundations of solarpunk is that it's about community. My favorite way to start, especially in apartments, is by meeting the neighbors. Introducing yourself is a great way to open a relationship. Tying in with the previous idea, if your entire building is full of efficiencies and you can cook a big batch of something in a crock pot, that's a great excuse to have some neighbors over for a home-cooked meal.

Share: Part of building community, it doesn't require any outdoor space. You and your neighbors could put together a shared pantry in your building. You could start a Free Box at your workplace. Talk to the people around you - what do they need?

Get involved: Solarpunk isn't just about growing plants and mending clothes - there's also an activism component that is how we change society as a whole. Volunteer with an organization doing things you care about. Find a local mutual aid group (here's some tips for how to find them) and see what you can do to get involved. Start your own mutual aid project. The size of your apartment is irrelevant if you're out doing things.

Research: Not being able to do things outside right now doesn't mean you can't learn about them. And many of those "big picture" ideas have a lot of concepts that can apply to the efficiency apartment life. Looking into the "7 R's" or permaculture can help you come up with ideas for more things you can do.

Also if you're really set on doing stuff outdoors, don't necessarily discount it, especially if you plan to be in this apartment for a while! You can propose outdoor projects to your apartment complex's manager. They may be more receptive than you think, especially if you can spin it to sound beneficial to them. (If you're proposing a community garden for residents, for example, it could be a draw for new residents, convince current residents to stay, be managed by you the residents so they don't have to do much to maintain it, and they won't have to pay their landscapers to mow/maintain that space anymore.)

Check out more ideas in these tags:

#apartment solarpunk

#dorms and small spaces

#community building

#activism

#fiber crafts

There's also some additional tips in this post and this post, which are earlier responses to similar asks.

I hope this helps! Followers, feel free to chime in with your best tips!

- Mod J

#asked and answered #apartment solarpunk #basics and getting started

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wanderingelvis · 1 year

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Honey, I need a part 2 of that Elvis x Innocent Reader ask. Y'all can't leave me hangin like this lordy

I'm so pleased you liked it! It means so much! 🥰! Anyways, here's part 2!

Here’s a link to Part 1 of Elvis x Innocent!Reader for anyone looking! 🧚

🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

word count: 2,119

pairing: Elvis x Innocent F!Reader

Things had gotten better for you recently, since you'd opened up to Elvis about the struggles you'd had in your classes, actually. You hadn't exactly made any friends, even though you were desperate to, but the teasing from the other boys and girls on set, had definitely stopped for the most part. Sure, you would see them looking at you, whispering to each other and giggling, clearly saying something about you but they wouldn't confront you anymore, and you were grateful for that.

You wondered if Elvis had spoken to someone, but you didn't want to ask, in case Elvis hadn't and asking him would put him in a difficult situation where he might feel that he should've.

You actually found the Mafia quite scary, they all wore dark clothing, would brandish guns that they had on themselves, and say words that your Momma had forbid you from ever saying. You wondered if Elvis had ordered them to say something, you knew that if any of the Mafia would ever tell you off, you'd probably run and hide under your bed and never come out again. Whenever you were around Elvis, which was a lot these days, you'd often find yourself in the company of the Mafia. Elvis could tell you were scared of them, you'd go quiet, shuffle as close to Elvis as possible and focus on whatever work you were doing, whatever book you were reading or whatever picture you were drawing - trying to make yourself as invisible as possible.

In all honesty, Elvis liked that you were scared of the Mafia, that it pushed you to be more reliant on him. He knew that none of them would dare look at you in a funny way, let alone hurt you, because they knew he was already obsessed with you, even if that fact would just fly right over your head.

But right now, you had some time off from rehearsals and you'd already run straight to Elvis' dressing room. You would always go to him, or his environment whenever you had any spare time, like he'd told you to do and like you liked to do.

Elvis was already there, looking through mockups of different outfits for his next tour. He wanted more jumpsuits, and that's what had been designed, hundreds of them for him to choose from.

You came in quietly, not wanting to disturb him, but you were greeted with that kind, friendly grin as Elvis asked you how your day was going, listening intently as you babbled away, telling him everything from the songs you were performing in rehearsal to how the door handles on the rehearsal door had been painted to white, but you preferred the old light blue color.

"M'sorry, m'talkin' a lot, Momma says that's a bad habit I got," You said softly, after realising how long you'd spoken for. You were just so happy to have a friend, you felt like no one else wanted to talk to you, so when Elvis let you, you'd talk his ear off. You hadn't realised how long you'd been talking for, but Elvis never seemed disinterested, not once. He would watch you intently, studying your face as you talked, nodding along and throwing his head back with laughter and chuckling loudly when you said something that amused him.

"S'okay honey, it ain't a bad habit, I could listen t'ya ramble on all day besides, sounds like you've had a busy day hm?" Elvis said.

You nodded, grabbing your copy of A Little Princess to read during your downtime. It wasn't the most advanced novel, but you were enjoying it. Your education hadn't been the best as a result of your mother prioritising auditions over school, but you could pick things up quickly when given the help, and you'd started reading more and more.

"Can I read in here for a bit, please?" You asked, never wanting to assume.

"Of course, little un', I'm just going through some outfits for the first-leg of the tour." Elvis said.

You got off the couch, sitting on the soft, plush, fluffy carpet, leaning your book on the low coffee table in front of you. Elvis parted his legs, and as time went on, you'd naturally lean back to sit in between them, the both of you in comfortable silence as you enjoyed your book and Elvis scanned through the outfits, every now and then lowering a piece of paper to show you a design he particularly liked, and to get your opinion on it.

After about twenty minutes, you put your book down, chewing a little on your lip, debating whether or not to ask Elvis about the incident that had happened before.

He'd never actually told you what 'give a head' meant, he'd just bushed over it and you felt a bit nervous to ask again. But you were curious, and he had said he would tell you.

"Um..." You piped up, before questioning if you really should ask Elvis. Elvis moved the piece of paper he was looking at to the side, looking down at you and raising one eyebrow, noticing you were looking a little confused and unsure.

You chewed your fingernails anxiously, your mind going back and forth as to whether or not you should bring this up. As you were thinking through your third reason why you should bring it up, you were taken out of your thoughts by a large hand, pulling your little one away from your mouth. You turned to see that Elvis was leaning down, stopping you from chewing on your nails.

"Now that is a bad habit baby, what's on your mind little girl?" Elvis asked as you gazed up at him with those big, wide eyes that could make him melt.

"It's stupid," You said before he cut you off.

"It's not stupid, Y/N, if it's botherin' ya, which it clearly is, you can tell me, I ain't gonna judge, I ain't gonna laugh, okay pretty girl?" Elvis assured.

"'Kay." You smiled sweetly. "I um, I keep hearing things on set or at the parties and I feel real stupid all the time because I don't know what people are talkin' about, like when Paulie Matthews asked me if I 'give a head' and I don't know what it means and I think it might be about being in charge of somethin' like if I'm the head of somethin' but m'not sure." You said, looking up at Elvis with nothing but innocence.

Elvis paused, he knew he'd have to tell you, but he knew it would be overwhelming for you to take in.

"Well, it's about sex," Elvis said gently, stroking your hair as you rested your back on his leg as you sat cross-legged on the floor. "Do you know much about that, honey?"

You simply shook your head, feeling a little anxious. "No but I wanna know," You paused a little, with Elvis simply watching you, not pressuring you or pushing you. This was a very delicate and sensitive topic, one that Elvis wanted to make sure was done on your terms. He knew that you could be overstimulated easily, so he would make sure he could be there for you, as slowly or as quickly as you needed him to be. "I think." You said.

"What would you like to know, little girl?"

"Um, well, I don't know really where to start really, I know that sounds stupid, but it's just a lot and, and I get confused sometimes with all of it and it's just sorta scary sometimes," You paused, fiddling with your fingers with your cheeks heating up into a pink shade. "M'sorry, that sounds dumb."

"That doesn't sound dumb, Y/N. Sex is a very special thing, so it can be scary to start with, s'only natural, little un'." Elvis assured. A small smile formed on your face as his words brought you comfort.

"How about we start with the basics? Do you know what sex is?" Elvis asked.

You nodded cutely, your head bobbing up and down eagerly, trying to impress Elvis and show him that you weren't as dumb as everyone thought.

"Uh-huh!"

"Wanna explain it to me then baby?" Elvis said cooly.

"Um, okay, it's um, well, um," You said, tripping over your words. "A man puts his thing into a lady and um, well, it makes a baby!" You said, relieved you'd got your words out.

"So you know where babies like you come from?" Elvis said with that shit-eating grin he always had, teasing you and making you giggle, covering your face a little with embarrassment.

"M'not a baby Elvis!" You blushed with a bashful giggle. "And of course I do! I really want to have a baby and be a mother." You said with keen earnest.

You'd always wanted to be a mother and be able to give all the love you had consumed inside of you to another being. Secretly, you wanted Elvis to maybe be the father, but you would never tell him that, even if secretly, he knew.

"Really?" Elvis said.

"Uh-huh! I would really like to be a mother! I think I would really like to have a baby!"

"I think you'd be an amazing mother." Elvis said with complete sincerity. He knew he was right, you were the most loving, caring and sweet little thing in the state, no, in the country.

Your heart was practically bursting, squirming about with delight. Elvis smiled, besotted with the sweet thing sat in front of him. "Really? Do you think so?" You giggled.

"Look at you, getting all flustered." Elvis teased. "But you're still a little one yourself, I ain't putting a baby in that belly just yet." He said, before he realised what he was saying.

Your eyes went as wide as a bush baby at his words. You didn't think he'd ever look at you in that way. Sure, you wouldn't really hesitate to admit you had a little crush on him, but he was the biggest superstar in the whole world who could have any woman he wanted, you never thought he was being anything but caring towards you.

Elvis got up from the couch, heading over to the drinks cart. "Want somethin' to drink, honey?" Elvis asked, pouring himself a scotch.

You asked for a Coca-Cola which he grabbed from the fridge, walking over and handing it to you as you stayed sat on the carpet.

"Doll, are ya sure you wanna keep talkin' about this?" Elvis checked, not wanting to make you uncomfortable - that was the last thing he'd want.

You nodded. You were hesitant of course, and Elvis could see that. He assured you that you could both take the conversation at your own pace, stopping as soon as you said so.

Elvis went on to explain to you what 'give a head' meant, your eyes went wide, and your nose scrunched up cutely, Elvis laughed a little at your reactions, but never patronised you. You asked endless questions, and Elvis answered every single one.

You felt fortunate to be around Elvis, he let you take everything at your own pace, which you loved as you always felt like you were a little slower to pick things up and felt a little behind everyone else. Growing up, your mother would berate you for not learning your audition lines fast enough, but despite always trying your very best, you could never quite catch up.

Elvis treated you differently though, he never rushed you, not once. When you didn't understand something, you could lean up on your tippy toes and whisper it into his ear and he would gently explain what was going on, guiding you and helping you, no matter how big or small.

"Now, I think that's enough for one day." Elvis said, placing a light kiss atop of your head. "C'mere, little un'," Elvis softly demanded, gesturing for you to join him on the couch. He opened his arms for you crawl into, cuddling you close.

He was proud of you, it was an intense conversation but you handled it well. "How are you feelin' pretty girl?"

You smiled up at him, telling him that you were overwhelmed but happy, which he understood. "How's about you tell me about your new book, little lady?" Elvis asked.

You nodded eagerly, beginning to ramble on about everything you loved about the book, what you think will happen and all the things you thought Elvis would love about it too.

Elvis watched, thinking about how cute you looked. He looked at today as a breakthrough in your relationship, he knew it wouldn't be long before he took the next step with you.

Naturally, you were completely oblivious to what he was planning, but you trusted Elvis, you knew he'd always protect you. You were his.

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #yandere elvis #elvis aaron presley #elvis the king #elvis x you

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nobodyfamousposts · 1 year

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why is everyone always hyping up Ms. Mendeleev as this amazing teacher who takes no bull when she really isn’t? in evil illustrator, Mendeleev sees Chloe picking on Nathaniel and even physically rips his sketch book out of his hands and embarrasses him in front of everyone. but not only is Mendeleev more focused on him drawing in class, she only scolds Chloe but doesn’t punish her for being disruptive. in Marinette’s flashback, when Marinette arrives to class late looking downtrodden, she yells at her in front of everyone instead of waiting until the end of class to talk to Marinette privately. she doesn’t ask her what’s wrong, she doesn’t shut down Chloe’s offensive comments about “looking more depressed than usual” and “she wants to design clothes but can’t keep hers clean”, and she yells at Marinette for accusing Chloe of putting paint on her seat by stating that she had no basis to do so. this woman sure does yell a lot doesn’t she? Mendeleev has zero empathy for her students and has no business being a teacher. if we’re going to call out Damocles and Bustier, she deserves a call out as well.

No no, you have a point. I find I want to argue with you because I'm one of those who likes Mendeleiev substantially more compared to the other teachers, but that's just it: when compared to the other teachers.

Other than Damocles as the Principal, Mendeleiv is one of only three teachers we've been introduced to in the whole of the series. Well, until the Art teacher in season three, but even he has the same issues as Bustier and Damocles of admonishing the other students while saying nothing against Chloe.

Chloe issues aside, Bustier's teaching methods are "nice", but notably useless and not age appropriate. She was shown teaching the class about a fairy tale, and not even a specific one. Just about how a Prince saves a Princess with a kiss, with "true love" being the lesson rather than the literary implications or analysis in what I can only assume is a literature class.

Then there's D'Argencourt, and do I really need to get into this guy?

So I think part of the reason here is that of the very few teachers we've gotten any focus on, Mendeleiev is the only one who has actually ACTED like a teacher. Not the nicest teacher, no, but at least A teacher.

She was admittedly harsh in how she went about things with her students, but she had valid points and reasoning behind what she did.

Nathaniel in Evilustrator was drawing in science class, a subject he is struggling in.

Rose was spraying perfume in class without consideration to the hazards it could cause. Someone could have a health issue. Plus...y'know...the canon problem of the perfume being VERY FLAMMABLE.

And she's the only teacher who has at any point at least scolded Chloe for her behavior. Which given how everyone seems to bend over backwards to appease her or admonish her victims, that's saying something.

Plus out of all the school staff who have been akumatized, Mendeleiev had the most sympathetic reason. Then there's her aborted storyline in the New York Special. So she comes off as a teacher who wants to be liked and do right by her students, even if her way of going about her interactions seems harsh, and I think that's the aspect that the fans have taken notice of.

It stands to reason we've all had a teacher like her in our lives. Strict. No nonsense. Didn't let us get away with anything. And it also stands to reason that having that teacher in real life made us dread that class.

So yes, Mendeleiev is no saint. But she at least IS a teacher who ACTS like a teacher. A strict teacher who takes no excuses and seems more impartial (at least when compared with Damocles and Bustier who make it quite obvious they're under Chloe's thumb even if it's in different ways and for different reasons). She could do with some education on empathy and communicating with her students. But she's still at least doing her job as an educator to teach them.

At least until the writers ruin her just like they ruin everything else because they saw what the fandom came up with and decided we can't have nice things.

#ml salt #ml analysis #ms. mendeleiev

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luveline · 2 years

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Ok but like shy!reader doodling Eddie's tattoos onto her own arms and then getting embarrassed when he sees them. But he's just like "wdym you're embarrassed, it's cute... But you're missing a bat, there's seven of them :)"

this is the cutest idea ever!! ♡ shy!fem!reader | 1k words

You'd forgotten all about your penned imitations by the end of the day, a boring morning at work spent idly doodling swiftly replaced in your memory by a turbulent afternoon.

You stare at the desk with your hands braced at the sides of your face. You're tired and aching and you just really want to see Eddie, his frizzy curls all windblown from driving with the windows down, his ripped clothes.

Life is sometimes fair. As soon as you think of him, he appears.

"Hey," Eddie says, bright and easy.

You blink at him and grin from behind the Palace arcade desk.

"Miss me?" he asks, smirking.

You try to hide your smile but the damage has already been done. Refusing to answer, you pretend to be busier than you are, reaching under the counter for another roll of quarters.

"I was thinking we'd go get milkshakes. You know, celebrate the weekend," he says, his hand clasped around the crook of his arm, head inclined to yours.

"I'm sorry you have to wait for me," you apologise.

Eddie finishes school an hour and a half before you finish work. You know he's taken to spending that time in the parking lot, shooting the breeze. Or, from the smell, smoking it. You feel very guilty to take up his time like that, and also, secretly, very special.

"Don't be. You know," he turns so his back is to you and points to his van, "when I park right there? I can see you running around in here. You realise they're only paying you minimum wage, right?"

"You watch me working?" you ask.

"What?" He spins around, a hand sewn into the hair behind his neck. "Of course not… Hey, what's that?"

It's your worst nightmare to be caught like this, his tattoos badly replicated over your arm and on clear display. If he didn't know how hopeless you are about him before this is an amazingly obvious indication.

You pull your arm to your chest in a poor attempt at hiding it and he vies for it, fingers kind but insistent as they close around your wrist. You're not in the habit of denying him anything but you can't look at him as he lays your arm across the desk. He's unusually quiet as he slides a ringed finger under your sleeve and hikes it up high. His fingertips stay bordering your sleeve and his thumb brushes over a clumsy wing, his eyes a shade from blank.

You squirm under his touch but don't pull away. Eddie's eyes flit up to your face. He takes in your embarrassment and is quick to try to make you feel better, his grip loosening.

"Hey, it's okay. They look good on you."

Your relief is palpable. You step as close to him as you can with the counter between you and he screws his lips to the side, a lopsided smile.

"You're missing one," he says wryly.

"Huh?"

"You're missing one of the bats. D'you have a pen?"

You lean back to the register and grab one for him. He takes it gratefully and unstoppers it with his teeth, holding the cap between his lips. The nib is small and thin and tickles you worse now that it's Eddie drawing on you. He sets it to your skin gently, a feathering sketch stretching out besides the other bats as he slowly completes your temporary tattoo. He does a much better job than you, though he has a clearer point of reference.

He strokes your arm when he finishes, a cheerful smile affecting his every feature: his eyes crease, his cheeks perk up.

"Voilà," he says. "Perfect."

He changes his mind abruptly. "Oh, wait."

He sets the pen to your skin again. You struggle to see it as he writes E.M in his brilliant hand, letters all pointy and broad. From your angle it looks like a W and a backwards E so it takes you a few seconds to recognise what they are.

"Gotta sign the artwork."

You hold your hand out for the pen and he passes it to you. You struggle to write upside down, reworking your initials in your head before you set them underneath his with a small plus sign.

He leans forward and squints at it. His hair falls in his face. You ditch the pen to tuck it behind his ear, your hand tentative, your touch lingering behind his earlobe.

You're distracted by his earring, a tiny silver stud, and don't notice he's taken the pen again until he's half finished his next addition.

He puts the pen down with a self-satisfied hum.

A confident heart encapsulates both of your initials.

"You should get that for keeps." You laugh, breathless, and his smile only grows. "Yeah? That would be sweet. The bats too, if you can stomach it."

"I should start small," you murmur.

Funny, to see any kind of bashfulness on Eddie, who's features seem designed for smugness or something similar.

"Maybe just the E," you add with a feigned nonchalance.

He looks like he wants to jump over the desk. Nervous laughter bubbles up your throat and you pull your arm out of his grip to cover your mouth with your hand.

"When's your shift finish?" he asks, though he knows.

"Five minutes."

He starts to back out of the arcade, eyes on yours and hand aloft. "You spend those five minutes thinking about what you want tonight, yeah? I'm gonna start the van." He almost hits a little kid on the way out. You can see the muttered cuss word on his lips. When he looks back at you he's electric. "Anything you want, you can have!"

His promise makes the last five minutes feel longer than any of the hours before.

#eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader blurb #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff

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spookyscarydemonbabe · 9 months

Note

I LOVE GARETH (he's so adorable)

How about the reader goes over to his house and he isn't there so they wait in his room for him. When he gets back, he sees the reader wearing his plaid jacket asleep in his bed...

A/N- This was so cute 🥹 i know i’m not taking fic requests rn but this was too fun to not want to make a fic out of 😍

Cozy

Genre-Fluff

Warnings- None :)

Tag List- @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @aidansloth @esme-viridian @toomanyfandomsimfanvergent

(tag list is always open, let me know if you’d like to be added 🖤)

Word Count- 2.6k

You sighed and tapped your foot as you waited at his door, checking the watch on your wrist again just to see how long it’s been since you last rang the doorbell.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to show up at Gareths place unannounced, it happened a lot more frequently than some may think. After living next door to each other all your lives you knew you were both welcome in each others homes whenever you liked. But for some reason this had been the only time where no one was home.

He knew you were coming over at this time. Hell, he’s the one that invited you over, so it was strange for him not to be there.

His car was still in the driveway, and after taking a quick peek into the garage you saw that his parents cars were no where to be found. Probably out with his sisters.

You groaned and rang the doorbell again, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to look down either end of the street, just checking to see if he had maybe gotten a ride from someone else. You knew he wouldn’t forget. He never did.

Every single time you came over, without a doubt you knew he would be fully prepared to see you. Whatever it was the two of you had planned, he always had some extras to keep you around longer.

Watching a new movie together? He would grab an extra one for the two of you to watch just in case you wanted to.

Listening to a new tape he got? It just so happens that he’s got a few new tapes, and you’re always down for a chill night.

Checking out a new spot in town? He just so happens to know about a few other local places for the two of you to go together.

He always loved spending time with you, and of course you loved spending time with him too.

With one final groan and a roll of the eyes, you were done with waiting. You walked over to the decorative plants on the porch and moved them aside, picking up the house key you knew they kept stored under there and using it to let yourself right in.

“Gare?!” You shouted out, hoping he had just been asleep in his room or occupied in the basement.

You slipped your shoes off at the door and shrugged when the only response you got was silence. Oh, well. He would be back any minute from wherever he was, you were sure of it.

As you climbed up the stairs you looked at all the family pictures plastered on the wall on the way up. Old school portraits, framed family drawings, a few professional shots of the whole family taken when Macy was still just a baby. At the very top step was your favorite.

One of the very first pictures of you and Gareth ever taken.

No more than maybe five or six years old, the both of you smiling with dirt and grass stains all over your clothes, each of you holding a little green frog in your hands. You remember how slimy they were. A quiet giggle left your lips seeing his adorable gap toothed smile. He lost two of his teeth that year. He was such a cute kid.

You finished your slow walk up the stairs and passed the other doors down to Gareths room, and surprisingly the door was still closed.

“Gare?” You said from behind the door, hoping he had just fallen asleep. After a moment of silence you shrugged and turned the handle, struggling to open his bedroom door.

You groaned as you shoved the door open with your shoulder, sneaking through the small space you managed to make between the door and the wall. His room was messier than you’ve ever seen it.

Clothes all over the floor, his bed was unmade and the blanket was tossed about and laying half on the floor, VHS tapes were littered in front of the TV and a few magazines were fallen over and spilling out of the box he kept under his bed. Boys were so gross.

You shut the door once more and kicked the piles of clothes around, trying to make yourself a clear path on his floor. There was no way he was planning on having you over with his room in this state, maybe he just lost track of time with whatever it was he was doing?

Either way, there was no way you were going to wait for him in this filth.

You started grabbing up piles of clothes in your arms and burying them into his hamper, making a little bit of space on his floor for you to walk around. You were able to make your way over to his stereo and looked through his tapes, searching for one to put on for some background noise while you picked up his mess. You smiled as you saw he was listening to one of the tapes you made for him and pressed rewind to start it over, pushing the play button and turning up the volume a bit.

No one would mind if no one was home.

You didn’t deep clean his room, you barely deep cleaned your own room at home, but just enough to where it wasn’t a pig sty. You didn’t know how he could function in a mess like this.

It was exhausting.

You had no idea how long it had been since you started putting away his tapes and laundry, but you eventually found your way over to cleaning off his bed, picking up a few shirts and tossing them towards the hamper like you had done with all the rest on his floor. You stopped when your hand felt the familiar flannel fabric under his blanket.

A smile spread across your lips when you pulled his vest out from under the blanket, a little wrinkled but otherwise in perfect condition. If he left it here that must mean he ran off the night before in a hurry to get to Eddie’s for a last minute sesh. He always overslept on those nights. As much as it needed a good wash, you saw nothing wrong with it.

A few wrinkles here and there, but no stains or tears, and it seemed to smell fine, thank god.

You had never once seen him without it within the last few months, it was almost like a security blanket for him. How was he possibly managing without it?

You went to go toss it into the hamper along with the other clothes, but as you saw it in your hand in your reflection of his standing mirror, you wondered what the big deal was.

He was obsessed with always keeping it in perfect condition, making sure nothing was out of place and every patch and pin on it had been in its spot for a reason.

You looked at it in your hands for a moment and glanced up at the mirror, taking a step towards it. How great could this vest really be?

You put your arms through the sleeves and adjusted it onto your body, smiling seeing it was a few sizes too big on your frame. It was comfortable, it was warm, and the fabric was so soft.

You took a deep breath, ready to pull it off of your body and toss it into the hamper, but there was something stopping you.

It felt so cozy, and though his room wasn’t freezing it was keeping you nice and warm. The fact that it smelled like him didn’t help much either. You were never able to notice how nice it was until now.

The mixture of his cologne on the front and the scent of his shampoo on the collar, mixed with his natural pheromones it was something so strange to you. Refreshing. Like a wave of calm washed over your body. It’s like he was there with you now, and you smiled at yourself in the mirror remembering his laugh.

You looked down at the red flannel on you, moving your hands up the seams and bringing in the collar to take a deep inhale. You missed him.

You lived next door to him all your life, and whenever he wasn’t there you missed him. Even now, standing in his bedroom that you’ve been in hundreds of times before, wearing the same vest you’ve seen him in for days on end, you were missing him. Hopefully he’d be home soon.

Another glance around his room from the reflection in the mirror made you remember the stereo. The tape you had playing had stopped at some point and you didn’t even notice. You went back to the stereo and flipped the tape to play the other side, sighing as you turned down the volume. It was now a comfortable background noise, and with the combination of his warm vest and the soft music, his bed was looking so much more comfortable than it ever had before…

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

“I’m going to fucking murder you if you ever make me this late back to my own house ever again.” Gareth said to Eddie from the passenger seat of his van, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Easy,” Eddie replied back with a chuckle, “it’s only been an hour, you’ll be fine.”

“I won’t be fine!” Gareth shouted, “I told you i had this planned and i’ve never been this late to something, (y/n) might think i was kidnapped or something, my car is still in the driveway and no one else is home, my room is a fucking mess and i don’t want to come home and find police cars all over the place-“

“Calm down.” Eddie said to him sternly. He’d never seen Gareth so overwhelmed. “It’s no big deal, i’ll tell her it was my fault you were late. I’m fine with her thinking i’m the bad guy.”

Gareth rolled his eyes and looked out the window of the van, hoping they’d be home soon.

What was supposed to be another last minute band practice turned into an overnighter for him and the rest of the guys at Eddie’s place. Smoking, watching movies, listening to music, all the same stuff they’d normally do. Unfortunately, they managed to stay up until at least four in the morning and lost track of time when they went out for ‘breakfast’ at noon.

Gareth was supposed to be at his place nearly an hour ago and he was so upset with himself for being late. He just hoped you weren’t upset with him too.

He hated making you upset, all he wanted to do was be able to spend time with you and have fun with you, other than being with the guys it was his absolute favorite pastime.

You had always been so sweet and kind to him, you would play together as kids and were nearly joined at the hip every summer, and as the years went on he figured that every guy got the same feelings about their girl friends.

Every guy started wishing that their girl friends always held their hand whenever they walked together.

Every guy wanted to be able to comfort their girl friends and hold them close during all the scariest parts of horror movies.

Every guy would make countless amounts of mixtapes of all the songs that reminded them of their girl friends.

Every guy got jealous when their girl friends would go out on dates or get asked to dances by other guys.

Every guy would lay in bed every night just wishing their their girl friends could be laying beside them to snuggle and keep warm.

God, he could feel his palms get sweaty just thinking about you.

He quickly wiped them on his jeans, doing his best to get you off of his mind and get back to the matter at hand. He was trying his best to think of an excuse to give you as to why he was late but he knew you wouldn’t believe anything he told you. You knew him too well.

The best thing to do was to just deal with whatever you had coming to him.

Eddie quickly turned the corner and Gareth perked up as soon as he saw his house, getting himself ready to nearly jump out of Eddie’s van as he pulled up on the curb.

“I’ll tell her what happened, don’t worry about sticking around.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and opened the door.

“You sure?” Eddie called out after him, shrugging as he watched Gareth run up his front yard to his door, fumbling with the keys in his pocket as he put one into the lock and stepped inside.

Gareth shut the front door behind him, looking around the living room and kitchen for any sign of you. He knew his parents were taking his sisters over to their friends for a playdate, giving the two of you free rein of the house for almost the entire day. He was just hoping he had enough time to clean a little before rushing over to your place and apologizing like his life depended on it.

He quickly ran up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom, and noticed that the door was slightly cracked open, he could hear one of his tapes being played from behind it.

He slowly opened his bedroom door, knowing that it had been completely closed when he left and stopped in his tracks when he saw you.

The lower half of your body was covered by his comforter, your top half was covered by his vest to keep you warm, your head resting peacefully on his pillow as the music played softly in the background. He looked around his room and saw that you had been nice enough to pick up a little for him, and he smiled as he quietly stepped inside. He made sure to be careful as the door creaked while he shut it, carefully stepping around on his hardwood floor in order not to wake you.

As strange as it was, all he could do was look at you.

You looked so serene, so peaceful. You used to have sleepovers when you were little but since the time has passed, you figured you were just too old for it. Not to mention your parents finding it inappropriate for two teenagers to be having sleepovers when they see each other constantly. But still, it was nice to see you like this again.

He could remember bits and pieces of your sleepovers when you were little but he always remembered how nice it was when you were sleeping. He always thought you looked beautiful, even when you were kids.

Gareth slowly walked over to the other side of the bed, carefully climbing in next to you and moving his body close to yours. He snuggled in, his arm carefully wrapping around your torso as the other pulled his comforter over your bodies. A smile slowly crept across his lips as he felt you gently back into him.

He held you close, keeping you warm beneath the blankets as he slowly closed his eyes.

You were never really able to relax like this.

Every time you saw each other there was always something planned, life gets in the way sometimes and it’s difficult to be able to enjoy doing nothing with someone you don’t see as often as you would like. And Gareth knows that too.

As much as he would love to be able to sit and talk with you, spend time with you, share fun memories with you, things like this were just as important.

He smiled when he felt your hand move over his as he held you.

Nothing was more important than this.

#stranger things #stranger things 4 #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x y/n #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson fic #gareth emerson fluff #gareth emerson fanfic #gareth stranger things

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viennacherries · 3 months

Note

Headcannons for Rolan, Zevlor, Dammon, and whoever else you want with a partner who’s huge on giving them body worship? I want them all to know they’re loved, especially their physical attributes (Larian let me kiss Rolan’s freckles you cowards)

yesyesyes you absolutely can! lots of freckle kisses for rolan, he deserves them. added an element of acts of service because i think they deserve it. +bonus gale because he DESERVES IT

rolan's is a little suggestive but there's no nsfw.

SFW

~~~

ROLAN

Rolan spends so much time bent over his desk that he comes to bed one night literally hunched over.

"Babe... Why are you standing like that?" "... My neck hurts."

It takes a little convincing, but eventually Rolan agrees to let them give him a bath and a massage.

They massage his head while they wash his hair and it eases a headache he didn't even realise he had. How long has there been pressure behind his eyes? Too long, evidently.

They trail their hands over his shoulders and back, drawing lines with soap between all of his freckles like constellations. He can't help sighing into it.

After the bath they lay him down on his front in their bed, and they straddle him to massage his back and neck.

Rolan's never had a massage before. He's completely mind-blown.

He feels like how he did when he first started dating them, where every time they touched him it felt electric. Every pass of their hands over the knots in his back has him relaxing further into the mattress.

His partner obviously adores this, and when they're sure he's relaxed enough they roll him over and travel his whole body, kissing every inch of him. When he breathlessly asks what they're doing, they say that they're determined to kiss every freckle on his body.

"... Every freckle...? Even...?"

"Yes, Rolan. Even those ones."

They keep their word. Rolan's muscles are incredibly relaxed by the time they both go to bed.

ZEVLOR

They're Zevlor's first partner in quite a while so he's always eager to please. He's usually the one doing the worshipping.

He's an older guy. He's been through the wringer a few times. He's ready to settle down and treat you right.

He just. Isn't expecting that treatment back?

It's probably something to do with how used to the idea of people relying on him he's become. He just naturally assumes the role of caretaker.

His partner notices this early on and makes an effort to show Zevlor all the love they can, so that at least around them he's not the only one doing the heavy lifting.

They bring him in for hugs and kisses whenever they get the chance and let him sleep on their chest. He loves it endlessly.

One day he comes into their home and he seems quieter than usual.

With a bit of prodding he reveals that he's feeling his age a bit today. When he looked in the mirror this morning his wrinkles seemed more noticeable, and every time he had to crouch he felt his knees pop and struggled to stand back up straight.

He's a bit insecure, and he feels unworthy of his partner because he feels like he's past his prime.

Well. That just won't do.

Cue kisses all over his face, every wrinkle and crease that they find has gentle pecks placed all the way along it.

By the time they're done Zevlor is a blushing, giggling mess. He feels like he's 100 years younger, but he also feels less like it matters if he's getting older. They love him regardless.

DAMMON

Dammon is the easiest to get to accept care of the three of them. He'll tease and moan that he should be the one looking after them, but he loves it really.

He's never really had someone who properly looks after him like this. He relishes it.

Their favourite way of showing love to his body is after he's spent a long day over the forge.

He comes in covered in smudges of ash and dirt, soaked through with sweat.

It's become a nightly ritual. They slowly undress him, and lead him to the basin with a warm cloth and a tender touch.

They clean his face first, wipe away the dirt and grime and kiss in the wake of the cloths path.

Then it's his hands, and they take extra care of his hands. They're his lifeblood, the most important tool to his craft, so they show every digit exceptional love. Kiss every joint, massage his hands til all of the tension of the day is gone.

They'll sponge him down if he asks, but he usually prefers to do that bit alone. He finds some peace in washing away the days sweat and restoring himself to normalcy.

If he asks, they'll draw him a bath, fill it with lovely smelling oils. They'll cleanse him top to toe until he's a puddle in their arms.

Dammon absolutely adores it. He's never felt so cherished.

+ GALE

Gale still struggles with his self-worth in the aftermath of everything that happened.

The mark of the orb is particularly difficult for him. It doesn't hurt anymore, but it's a constant reminder of his greatest mistake.

His partner thinks it rather suits him, honestly, but it bothers him and therefore it demands their attention.

If they spot him staring at it in the mirror, they'll come up behind him and wrap their arms around him, covering the scar with their arms.

When he turns to face them, they'll dance gentle kisses over the lines of the mark, trail their fingers over it gently til he shivers.

They generally just like putting their hands over it, lavishing it with little touches and rubs. They almost lost him to the damn orb. To them, the scar is a reminder that they won.

Gale still doesn't like that it's there, but he supposes he can get over it.

After all, it all worked out in the end, didn't it?

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 headcanons #headcanon #gale #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #gale bg3 #gale of waterdeep #dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon bg3 #zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor bg3 #rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #holy rolan empire

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