Tumgik
#lungs are collapsing from all this laughing
liliacamethyst · 10 months
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Web of Shadow and Light (Part III)
Sequel to Webs of Fate
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Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader
words: 5.2 K
warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine
Part I Part II Part III
The Spider-HQ echo with an unsettling symphony - a child's piercing cries and the hushed whispers of concern from some of the multiverse's bravest Spider heroes. They stand clustered around the smallest yet most powerful disturbance they've ever encountered - a baby boy. His wails have been echoing through the HQ since Miguel left the room, leaving the baby and dozens of Spider-man behind. Each cry is a call for help that pulls at their hearts, demanding attention, challenging their patience.
After much deliberation and coaxing from the rest, Miguel gave his team an ultimatum - they have until dawn to find an alternative solution, before Gabriel has to be eliminated, before the universe collapses on itself. His voice was a cold whisper when he spoke, "Figure out another way by tomorrow morning, or..." Nobody dares to complete the sentence, not even Miguel, the unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. And with that Miguel was gone, and the baby immediately started wailing and hasn’t stopped since.
Now Gwen, with her brows knitted in worry, rocks the baby with desperate gentleness. Her blue eyes are bright with unshed tears, a look of sheer helplessness painting her usually confident face. Beside her Peter B. is attempting to cheer Gabriel up but his efforts as pointless as they are endearing. The usually funny and charming Peter B seems to be losing a battle of wits with a one-year-old. It would've been humorous, had the situation been any different.
The sight of the little baby boy weeping his heart out, oblivious to the chaos his presence is causing tugs at their hearts, binding them in a collective resolution - they must protect this child. The shadows and the light, entwined in this web they’ve all been thrown into. And the clock is ticking.
Hobie scoops up the little boy, cradling him close in an attempt to soothe his relentless tears. "See, the cow says muhhhhh," he coos. His tiny cries falter, curiosity momentarily replacing distress. He gazes at Hobie with wide eyes, intrigued by the cool looking man. "And the butterfly," Hobie pauses dramatically, "well, the butterfly don’t say nothin’." He continues his little game, while rocking the baby gently in his arms. "And the pig says-"
 Miles chimes in with an eager grin, "Oink, Oink."
"Nah, bruv," Hobie laughs. “The pig says, ‘You have the right to remain silent!’”
Gabriel’s face scrunches up, and the waterworks start again. Hobie chuckles, "Fair enough, little fella. Cops make me wanna cry too."
Meanwhile Jessica Drew, clad in her black and white Spider-Woman outfit, her dark locks cascading around her shoulders, is leaning against the doorframe, half entering the room, her eyebrows raised. "Well? I assume he didn’t stop crying?“
Beside her Peter B.  with his shaggy brown hair and five o’ clock beard just shakes his head. 
“This is nuts. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is working.“ Gwen states.
In the background, the cries of baby Gabriel cotinue, little fists flailing as he continued his tantrum. Jessica, arching an eyebrow, comments, “He’s still going at it?”
Hobie Brown, just gives her a quick nod. “Oh yeah, the kid has got a set of lungs.”
Suddenly, Pavitr Prabhakar, yelps as a makeshift toy, made out of wood and spiderwebs, hit him square in the forehead. "Ow! And one hell of arm throw."
Methodically, Jessica starts running through a mental checklist. “Diaper?”
Peter B. Parker nods. “Clean.”
“Food?” Jessica glances at Miles who holds a baby food jar and a bent spoon.
Miles, in his black and red suit, shrugs. “Kept smacking the spoon out my hand.”
“Nap?” Jessica's questions further.
The entire room answer in unison, clearly frustrated “Literally the first thing we tried.”
Pavitr smirkes at them. “Jinx.” But his joke is short-lived as Gabriels screams become even louder.
Gwen, then takes charge, “Ok, we have to do something,” her eyes flicking around the room with determination. She points to Jess, “You have to talk to Miguel. You’ve been around him the longest, maybe you can get through to him.”
Jess looks hesitant but nods.
“And Peter,” Gwen turns to Peter B who’s still juggling items in his hands, to entertain the baby and stop his crying. “Get Mayday’s toys. Maybe the baby’s just bored.”
Peter gives a thumbs up. “You got it, boss.”
“And Pav, Hobie,” Gwen instructs, her voice steady. “You need to rally the other Spider-people. We need everyone on board to protect this little guy.”
“Margo, you’re with me, girl. We are  paying our old friend Lyla a little  surprise visit. Something’s a little fishy with her.” Margo nods eagerly. 
As everyone scatters into action, Miles stands there, looking slightly lost and raising his hands. "Hey, guys, you forgot about me! What am I supposed to do? How can I help?" he calls out to the rapidly moving group.
Pav whirls around and points at Miles, "You, take care of the little guy, newbie," he says, as Hobie thrusts the still crying baby into Miles' arms.
"Great," Miles grumbles, balancing Gabriel on his hip and looking down at the squirming bundle of tears.
 He starts to bounce up and down gently, trying to imitate what he's seen in movies. The baby continues to cry, unfazed by Miles' efforts.
“Alright buddy, let’s figure this out together. I can swing through New York, so how hard can babysitting be?” Miles whispers to the baby.
Hours drag on and Gabriel's relentless cries continue to echo through the HQ. Despite his earnest attempts, Miles, armed with only his spider powers and limited babysitting experience, is unsuccessful in calming the baby. He’s tried everything he can think of – makinf funny faces, telling funny stories in a soothing tone, gently swinging him back and forth with his web-slinging skills, and even humming a little tune (it was Humble by Kendrick Lamar, but the thought counts, right?). At one point, he even tried to entertain the baby by creating animals out of webbing, but that didn’t work either. The baby is relentless, and his cries only seem to get louder. 
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In the meantime in Miguel’s office, the echoing cries penetrate through the walls. Migel is sitting behind his desk looking at some documents, while Jess stands in front of him.
“Please, Miguel, it’s a baby boy. How did you imagine doing this, huh?” Jess exclaims, her voice rising. “Did you plan to build some sort of machine to just vaporize him? Or did you think of strangling him with your own bare hands? I know you’re not a monster.” But Miguel's face remains stoic, his eyes never leaving the papers on his desk.
“And look,” Jess continues, pointing vaguely in the direction of where the baby’s cries are coming from, “this baby is already older, and nothing has collapsed yet. The universe is still here.”
“I can’t risk any more lives, Jess,”Miguel responds coldly, finally looking up at her.
“But what if there is another way? We haven’t even tried everything. We have brilliant minds here. Let’s...let’s figure something out that doesn’t involve.. that,” Jess pleads, her voice softening.
Miguel looks at her for a long moment but his expression remains unreadable. The cries of the baby continue to fill the air.
Jess then turns her gaze towards Lyla, , who is stationed nearby, her holographic interface flickering with data. “Lyla, what are the kid’s powers? Run a genetics test, a DNA test. We need something to work with.” 
Lyla’s synthetic voice answers in an eerily calm tone, "I have already processed the genetic information, Jessica. Thanks very much, genius. As per my findings, the child’s power attributes remain undefined. In regards to the DNA test..."
Lyla hesitates just a fraction of a second, but enough for Miguel to notice. It's an unexpected response from an AI that's programmed to be efficient and direct. A strange tingle rises within him but he pushes it aside, refocusing on the matter at hand.
“is inconclusive.” Jess squints at Lyla. “Inconclusive? What do you mean? Is he an anomaly or not?”
“He’s an anomaly, certainly. However, the DNA analysis is...complicated,” Lyla maintains her composed tone. “Complicated how?” Jess presses on. “Just...unfamiliar and intermingled genetic markers,” Lyla responds vaguely. “The child is an enigma.”
"Miguel, please" she continues, turning back to Miguel, clearly frustrated with Lyla's vague responses that are not helping her case. Her tone is still serious, "this isn't some variation of a monster, this is a baby."
For a moment, Miguel’s gaze flickers, his usual icy aura briefly wavering. "It doesn't matter," he finally grunts, closing his eyes as if to physically shut out the argument. Jessica's voice turns unexpectedly brittle. "I didn't join the Society to kill innocent kids."
Miguel clenches his jaw hard. "We do what we have to do for the greater good. No exceptions." Jessica takes a deep breath, her next words coming out almost in a whisper. "What if there was my Gerald or a version of your-" she begins, but is quickly cut off.
"DON’T. Don't even go there, Jessica" Miguel growls, his hand forming into a tight fist. "And why the hell is it still crying?"
Jessica's gaze softens slightly. "That child, that little boy, probably misses his parents. Parents who are going through hell right now, searching for their baby." Miguel's fist tightens further, a spark of something, maybe regret, guilt,  flashing in his eyes. Jessica presses on trying one last time to convince him. "He was found in 586, right? Maybe we can reconnect with Su-" 
"No," Miguel interrupts sharply, his voice a final command. “Until tomorrow morning, Jess,” he finally says in a low voice, putting an end to Jess’ outburst. “That’s all. You can leave now.” 
There’s a heavy silence, where the only sound is Gabriel’s distant crying.
Jessica looks at Miguel, her gaze piercing. "Think about what you’re doing, Miguel," she whispers and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her.
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In the heart of the HQ, Margo sifts through the labyrinth of Lyla's concealed data. She uncovers a file that captures her attention – the baby's DNA results. "There you are," she mutters to herself, an air of triumph in her voice. As she opens the file, her eyes widen in disbelief, "Oh no…“
"What is it, Margo?" Gwen asks making her way over to Margo.
Margo's voice trembles slightly. "So, while looking through the hidden data, I found the baby's... there was a parental match."
Gwen's heart skips a beat. “I knew something was was off with Lyla. Of course she knows more. Well, who are the little guy's parents?"
Margo hesitates, then blurts out, "Miguel and Sunny."
Gwen stops dead in her tracks, her mind reeling. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"
"The baby's mother is Sunny, and the father is Miguel," Margo reiterates, her voice steady.
Gwen eyes widen. "But... are you sure? I know Sunny's baby. I was there when baby Gabriel was born!“
"Yes, I'm sure. There were two parental matches for the baby in the spider DNA logs:Sun Spider and Spider-Man 2099. When was the last time you saw the baby, Gwen? Babies change quickly at that age." Margo confirms. 
"Miguel and Sunny? That's not possible... how have we never noticed that there's something going on between those two?" Gwen's mind whirls with confusion.
"Oh, I noticed," Margo's voice holds a hint of smugness, "The way he was sneaking into her room at night? And the way he looked at her every time she set foot in a room, like a lovesick puppy. It was adorable. Wait, nobody else noticed?"
Gwen splutters, taken aback, "What? No, I... well, he's all 'we need to sacrifice ourselves to protect the multiverse. No more traveling for fun'" she imitates Miguel's voice with a teasing lilt, then she adds, "And Sunnys is literally the personification of a warm embrace."
Gwen's mind whirls but she continues, “ Woah, okay lets focus on the important part. I mean, I knew something was wrong with Lyla, but why... why would she do that?"  
"There's more, Gwen," Margo says, her voice shaking slightly. "I found another thing in her data. It's... it's about how she's processing information."
Gwen frowns, "What do you mean?"
Margo takes a deep breath before explaining, "In simple terms, Lyla's been teaching herself new things. She's changing, growing beyond her original programming. Her code is self-evolving."
"And the data about the baby?" Gwen asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
Margo sighs, "She's been... twisting it, making the baby seem more dangerous than it actually is."
Gwen's mind reels with this new information, the world around her seeming to tilt. "But why?" she finally manages to ask. "Why would Lyla do this?"
"I don't know, Gwen," Margo admits. "But we need to find out and warn Miguel. And soon."
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Meanwhile in Miguels office, the wailing becomes louder, almost as if piercing through the walls, trying to reach something, or someone. Miguel's face betrays his discomfort, as if the cries are tugging at his walls around his heart. There's a weight on his chest, something unidentifiable that makes it hard to breathe.
Suddenly Lyla’s holographic interface hums. She begins to show the outline various strategies for eliminating the child. Her voice, analtytic but almost cheerful, fills the room. “So, we could create a temporal displacement field, effectively erasing the child from existence. Or perhaps expose him to a slow-acting molecular destabilizer..." 
 "Based on the trial," she continues unfazed by Miguel’s lack of response. "the device should work as intended, wiping out any of its DNA and trace. Be like the anomaly never existed." There's a hint of satisfaction in her words.
Miguel, until now staring blankly at the wall, finally turns towards Lyla, his complexion pale and his eyes wide.
His insides twist painfully, the mere idea of bringing harm to this innocent child becoming now unbearable.
“Stop,” Miguel chokes out.
“Apologies, Miguel. We must consider all options for preserving the multiverse. You out of all people should know that,”Lyla retorts.
But something within Miguel snaps. His ice-cold distant facade crumbles. Rising abruptly, his chair clatters loudly onto the floor.
Without saying another word, he strides out of his office. “Miguel? Are you listening? Where are you going?” Lyla calls after him, but her words are unanswered in the empty room.
Walking down the hallway, Miguel slows down as he passes the room where the infant's cries come from. He pauses when he hears Miles' pleas inside.
“Little dude, if you stop crying promise I’ll get you some cool kicks. Maybe some baby Jordans? Please, please just stop crying,” Miles pleads, his voice sounding desperate and utterly exhausted.
After a moment hesitation, Miguel pushes open the door and steps into the room. His gaze, sterner than ever, as he takes in the scene: Miles looking near defeat, his energy spent trying to soothe the wailing child, his spider suit rumpled and hair disheveled.
"Enough," Miguel comms sharply.
Miles looks up from where he's been pacing with the baby, his eyes wide like he's just been caught stealing cookies from a jar. “You,” Miguel points at Miles, who is holding the still-crying baby. His voice booms with authority. “Put him down”
Miles, slightly dumbfounded, obeys and carefully lays the child down on his makeshift bed. “I need you to return to Earth 586. Get some of his belongings - toys, blankets, anything you can find," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"But Miguel--" Miles startsbut gets cut off immediately.
"Now," he says, his red eyes flashing dangerously. Miles opens the portal hastily and disspears to your universe.
The crying has subsided to whimpers, and Miguel finds himself kneeling next to the little one, who reaches out for him. As if on autopilot, Miguel’s hands scoop him up abruptly from the bed.
"Quiet, niño. "Miguel growls at him with a  low and threatening tone. "I could just... do it right now." His irritation gets the better of him, and he bares his fangs at the little one. This sight shocks Gabriel into silence for a moment, his big, teary eyes widening at the sight. 
But then, to Miguel's surprise, the baby breaks into a fit of giggles, the sound infectious and joyous.
Gabriel suddenly mimics Miguel, baring his own little teeth – two tiny milk teeth and the beginnings of baby fangs peeking from his gums, causing Miguel to stiffen in shock.
Caught off guard Miguel's hold slips and Gabriel lands back on the web-shaped bed with a bounce. The baby's laughter ends abruptly and is replaced once more with tears and cries.
Still in shock, Miguel stumbles back a step, but Gabriel's cries soon pull him back into the present. With a sigh, he picks up the little boy yet again andGabriel immediately snuggles into the crook of Miguel’s neck, his tiny arms winding tightly around his throat.  Miguel swallows hard, unsure of what to do next. 
Then, almost instinctively, he starts to hum a tune he thought he'd long forgotten. "Tú eres mi sol de la mañana, el sol que brilla..." His voice is barely audible, the words shaky. Gabriel's little body relaxes against him, a content sigh escaping his lips followed by a quiet yawn. He nuzzles closer to Miguel, his tiny breaths falling into sync with the rhythm of the song. "...alegra todo, mi corazón," Miguel coninues softly, his mind flooding with memories. He sees a bright, lively girl with the same curious eyes as the boy in his arms. 
"Daddy," Gabriella asks, her large eyes bright with curiosity as she looks up at him, "why do you call me your morning sun? I'm not yellow."
Miguel chuckles at her innocence, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He cradles her against his chest, looking into those eyes so full of wonder. "No, mija" he replies, his voice soft with affection "you're not yellow but you are my sunshine."
"But why?" She wrinkles her little nose, her childish curiosity making Miguel's heart fill up with love.
"Because, mijita," he begins, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, "just like the sun, you light up my world. You chase away the darkness with your laughter and your love. You are warmth, you are joy, and just like the morning sun, you are a new beginning, a promise of a brighter day." 
Gabriella blinks up at him, her lips curving into a small, and she hides her smile in the crook of his neck. "I like that, Papi," she whispers, "Sing the song again, please?"
“brilla, conmigo, brilla que brilla, alegrandome esta cancion. Tu eres mi sol de la manana…“
Eyes closed, Miguel draws Gabriel unconsciously closer, his heart full, and for the first time he’s feeling a sense of contentment he hasn't experienced in years. 
The moment is shattered by the sound of a throat being cleared, pulling him abruptly out of his peaceful trance.
Peter B is standing in the doorway, arms loaded with various dolls. "Wow, he's finally asleep," he remarks, looking between Miguel and the now sleeping Gabriel with a relieved smile. "I was starting to think that was impossible." 
Without responding, or even sparing a glance in Peter's direction, Miguel turns away from the door and heads to the bed. He gently places the sleeping toddler down, pulling a small blanket over him. Once he's confident that Gabriel is settled, Miguel quietly leaves the room, his demeanor as frosty and aloof as ever, making no acknowledgment of Peter's presence. 
Peter B is quick on his feet, rushing after Miguel. "I brought him toys from Mayday," he blurts out. "She won't miss them. She's not too good at sharing, but I guess she won’t mind in this case."
Miguel continues his stride, not giving Peter so much as a backward glance. "Que maravilla," he mutters under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Ignoring the dismissal, Peter B. reaches out and places a hand on Miguel's arm, stopping him in his tracks. Miguel raises an eyebrow and glances back at him half-heartedly, clearly not interested in a conversation.
Peter takes a moment, his gaze intensifying. "Hey, boss," he begins, his voice shaky yet determined. "We can't let anything happen to this boy, right?" 
At Peter's words, Miguel closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.
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Back on Earth 586, you're in the throes of a meltdown. Your little boy, Gabriel, is nowhere to be found. You've scoured the whole city of Nea Yorkey, every nook and cranny you can think of, but there's no trace of him anywhere. Desperation gnaws at your insides, and fury bubbles up, hot and fierce. Your mind is in turmoil, swirling with anger and fear, clouding your ability to think straight. One thing is crystal clear though: whoever dared to touch your child will pay dearly for their actions.
You're frantically trying to find a way to contact anyone from the Spider Society, while simultaneously considering every possible avenue to traverse the multiverse yourself. Alchemax - the multinational conglomerate known for its cutting-edge research and technological advancements - seems to be your only hope. As you're about to make your way there, a sound from Gabriel's room stops you in your tracks.
Your Spider senses, already on high alert due to the unexpected circumstances, seem to kick into overdrive. Every instinct within you screams that something is about to happen. Your heart pounds in your chest like a wild drum as you slowly approach the room.
Meanwhile, in Gabriel's room, Miles is having his own share of troubles. In his haste, he stumbles over a toy car that starts making an assortment of noises and brightly lit animations. "Ah, this stupid toy!" he curses under his breath.
A thought suddenly crosses his mind and he wonders aloud, "Wait, does he need a blanket?" Just as he's about to reach for a small bunny stuffed animal that lay discarded on the floor, an intense blast of sonic energy sweeps across the room.
Caught by surprise, Miles finds himself flung across the room, his back hitting the wall with a thud. Before he can even let out a gasp, a spider web shoots out, pinning him securely against the wall. There he hangs, suspended, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he attempts to comprehend what just happened. Well its safe to say he didn’t saw that coming.
Miles, still stuck against the wall, manages to blurt out, "Who are you?"
"Who am I?" you echo, incredulity lacing your tone. "You break into my son's room and ask me whoI am?"
Your mind races as Miles stammers, "Wait, your son's room? Wait, are you...are you a Spider-person aswell?"
Ignoring his question, you stride towards him, an aura of threat radiating off you. "Stop talking!" you command, "I ask the questions!" In your hand, a ball of solar energy forms, crackling with power and casting a glow across the room.
"Why are you here? Where is my son?" The words are more of a growl than a question, the motherly instincts in you sending waves of danger rippling across the room. "Your son is okay, please don't hurt me!" Miles pleads with a shaky fear laced voice.
Squirmy and visibly frightened, Miles stammers out his confession, "We-we took him...it was our mission... He's an anomaly...we needed to get him out of this universe, send him to his own, so it wouldn’t collapse and interfere with the multiverse...but he doesn't have one, and I'm so sorry..."
His voice dwindles to a murmur, words tumbling over one another in his haste. Amidst his ramblings, your icy inquiry slices through like a blade, "Who instructed you?"
A sharp wince contorts his face, betraying his fear. "Our boss..." he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, "Miguel... Miguel O'Hara."
The energy in your hand dissipates, leaving only shock in its place. It's almost too much to take in - the idea that Miguel, your Miguel, could have done something like this. "He's okay, we... we didn't know he was the son of a Spider-woman. I'm Miles Morales, by the way." he introduces himself, attempting to inject some normalcy into the situation.
"I'm Spider-Sun," you respond automatically, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.
"Wait … you?" Miles' eyes widen in recognition. "You're Sunny?" When you give a numb nod in response, he continues, "You look more like 'Stormy' if you ask me." Your gaze snaps to Miles, the intensity of your death glare immediately silencing his attempt at humour. "Sorry, sorry," he stammers, raising his hands in surrender. "I just...I've heard Gwen and Peter talk about you."
"They never stop talking about you," Miles continues, trying to regain his composure. "They always say you have such a radiant personality and how much they miss you. They take care of your son, don’t worry. Hes safe for now.” 
"What do you mean he's safe 'for now'?" you cut him off abruptly, your voice cold and hard. Miles gulps nervously before responding.
"Eh...we have until morning to find a solution for this...anomaly," he stammers. You interrupt him, seething with a fury that makes him cringe. "My son's name is Gabriel. He is not an 'anomaly'," you spit out the words like they are poison, hating the way they make your sweet little boy sound like some kind of mistake.
"Eh, yes, for Gabriel," Miles corrects hastily, "because, eh... if we don't find an alternative, they need to, eh...eliminate..." He trails off, speaking so quickly and softly that you almost don't catch his last word.
"ELIMINATE?????" You scream and for a split second, Miles is sure he sees your eyes blaze with a terrifying, luminating light. 
"We can stop them. We can talk to them and say it's your son," Miles says quickly, desperately hoping to calm you.
"I don't talk. Bring me to my son," you demand. Without wasting another moment, you order him to open the portal. "Y-yes, right away, Sunn... eh, Mrs. Sun, eh... Ma'am," he stammers, visibly trembling under your steely gaze.
 It takes him two shaky attempts before he manages to successfully open the portal, his hands still unsteady from the encounter.
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Back at the headquarters, Peter chases after Miguel into his office. "Boss, all I'm saying is, what if Lyla is wrong?"
Miguel is pinching the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his lips. The weight of the situation is quickly becoming too overwhelming and he feels himself teetering dangerously close to his breaking point.
Just at that moment, Gwen, Pav, Margo and Hobie burst into the office, their faces set withdetermination. "Miguel, there’s something you need to know.  Please hear us out. Margo and I, we found something.Lyla is - ," Gwen starts but Miguel is quick to silence her with a raised hand.
Just as Miguel is about to speak, the lights flicker, casting an ominous glow throughout the room. Hobie looks around nervously. "Is that eh...normal?"
Peter quirks an eyebrow. "Did you forget to pay the electricity bill?" 
The lights flicker even more violently, plunging the room into a dance of shadow and light.
With a violent burst, the door is flung open, and a brilliant surge of light blinds everyone. You stand in the doorway, an ethereal aura glowing around you.
"O'Hara!" Your voice thunders through the room, heavy with wrath and revenge. As Miguel turns around to face the source of the sound, a massive, lightning-tinged sonar blast slams directly into his chest. He's pushed backward, knocked off balance before he can brace himself for the attack. He tries to recoverr, to shift into defense mode but he doesn't get the chance. You're relentless, a solar goddess in human form, hurtling blast after blast at him. Miguel has no time to regain his stance, each attack landing with more force than the last. 
Gwen makes to step forward, her instincts screaming at her to intervene, but Peter grabs her arm, pulling her back. "That's Sunny," he says, his voice a mixture of awe and concern. Hobie's eyes widen comically. He cocks his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Our Sunny, eh? Blimey, I never knew she had it in her. That rebellious firecracker," he mutters, a distinct note of admiration creeping into his typically laid-back British drawl.
Miles bursts into the room, breathless and disheveled. He stumbles towards Gwen, his voice hurried and concerned, "I tried to stop her, but she was...she was furious. Woahhh, I've never seen Miguel get beaten like this before."
And he wasn't exaggerating. Miguel was fighting back, his fangs bared, his claws out and ready but he was no match for your rage-fueled attacks. You were right up in his face, delivering punch after punch at a brutal pace
"Where's my son, O’Hara? What have you done to him?" you demand, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
At your words, Miguel's movements falter. His defense wavers, and he barely manages to gasp out, "Your son?" He doesn't dodge your next blow, doesn't attempt to shield himself or strike back. Instead, he allows you to continue.
Miguel is shocked. His reflexes kick in as he sees the next punch coming and he grabs your wrist, halting your next powerful punch aimed for his face. He locks eyes with you, his gaze holding an emotion you've never seen in him before. Is it fear? No, it's much deeper, more profound.
As he stares at you, your luminescent eyes gradually lose their fiery intensity, shifting back to their human form.
"I... I didn't know," Miguel stammers, his voice a trembling whisper. "Lo – lo siento. I – I didn’t know.”
His breaths are ragged, and you can see a war waging inside him.
"But...how?How didn’t I know?" His voice is choked, your wrist still securely in his grip. “Your son?” Miguel continues,his voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes search yours and all he sees is raw, untamed anger with an aching pain that pierces his soul.
“Yes, MY son!” your voice echoes through the room like a whip. “Did you think that you could just take him from me? That I wouldn't come for him?”
Miguel’s grip on your wrist loosens as he stumbles back. His heart feels like it’s about to explode as realization dawns on him. The dark curls, the small fangs the baby had bared at him –pieces of a puzzle start falling into place. His own blood runs cold.
“Where is he, Miguel? Where’s myGabriel?” your voice breaks as you say the name, and it feels like another punch to Miguel's gut.
“Gabr...” Miguel chokes. “No... no...”
His voice is barely audible, the air knocked out of him by the significance of the name. His knees buckle, and he falls on the floor. "NO."
“You, who I thought would protect any child, wanted to eliminate my – our – flesh and blood!” Tears, full of anger and hurt, stream down your face, but your voice doesn't waver one bit. 
Miguel, still on the floor, looks up at you with tear-streaked cheeks. “I didn’t know. I swear on my life, on Gabriella’s memory. I-I wanted to do the right thing. I- I never, -Lo siento.” 
There’s a moment of tense silence as you look down at the shattered man before you,the love of your life, the father of your child, who almost made the most horrifying, unforgivable mistake.
Just then, from another room, the faint sound of a baby's cries pierce through the heavy atmosphere. You abruptly yank your wrist out of his grasp and towards the door to leave.
Your heart clenches as you break into a run, following the pitiful cries. You don’t look back.
Miguel remains on his knees. He doenst follow you, he doesn’t dare to move, anchored by the crushing weight of what he's done, as the sounds of Gabriel's cries fade into the background.
"Gabriel," he whispers, the name escaping his lips like a vow. A promise of redemption. And with that single word, Miguel knows he'll move heaven and earth to protect his child.
Part 4 "Webs of Redemption"
Hello, you wonderful souls! I want to say a big thank you for your patience and kind words about this series. I really appreciate each of your sweet comments and messages – they mean so much to me. Thank you all for the insightful ideas and suggestions you contributed for part 3. I've incorporated as many of your concepts as I could because they're simply brilliant. I'm eager to hear more of your thoughts, criticisms, and proposals for part 4. I also want to give a special thanks to Jess, @wolfjessedragon . Her inspiration and amazing ideas were the driving force behind Part 3, and I couldn't have written it without her! love you guys, keep being awesome!
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myfictionaldreams · 2 months
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Today's Lesson: Don't Catch Feelings // James Potter x Fem!Reader
PART 1 (Dry Hump) // PART 3
Summary: It was meant to be a one-time moment. A friend helping another friend who'd never been kissed before. So now, when your best friend finally gets the girl he's wanted to impress, why are you filled with such jealousy.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, jealousy, friends w/benefits, can be interpreted as cheating but there's no official relationship, kinda love triangle, sex education, fingering, mutual pining, arguing, regret, kissing, drinking, fake orgasm (w/ other m character), dry humping, voyeurism, loss of virginity (James), praise kink, creampie, riding, cliff hanger! -- sorry if I've forgotten any tags
Words: 6.4k
Tags list: @bellathethirstybitch, @kenqkii, @ghostlycrystobalove, @anehkael, @1-800-ididurmum, @imdoingbetternow ~ Y'all asked to be tagged in the comments. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write a part 2! Thanks for your support.
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"Move your thumb to the right. Yes, that's it! Right there - fuck James, don't stop! Yes! Yes! Oh-!" Even with the silencing charm around the room, you were sure the entirety of Hogwarts could hear you cumming hard around James' fingers curling inside your cunt as his thumb - now in the right place - circled your throbbing clit.
The tips of your fingers ached with how firmly you were digging them into his muscularly toned shoulders, probably bruising him, but he never commented on this. The messy-haired man just continued to listen to your instructions, putting more enthusiasm into these moments than in any lesson here at Hogwarts.
Even as your walls clenched tightly around his digits, he didn't stop. However, you were now quietened as he sloppily made out with you, swallowing your cries of euphoria until there was nothing left to give, and your moans turned into a laugh.
James groaned as you pulled away from his swollen lips, gently tugging on his wrist to ease his fingers out of you. "Woah there, Tiger, that was plenty good enough. Any more and I'll probably collapse", laughing as he pouted with his lower lip, his hazel eyes half-lidded and pupils blown in a clear display of arousal.
"So it was good?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, not moving his face away from hovering over yours.
"It was more than good, Potter. You're very good at listening to instructions, and your skills are improving with each orgasm, that's for sure", you praise whilst pushing his glasses up his nose as he smirks handsomely in response. James turned to kiss the tip of your fingers as you couldn't help but giggle once more at the action, your feet hooking around the backs of his knees as you tried to pull him closer to the edge of the desk.
But, like everything perfect in your life, you became your own worst enemy as you couldn't help as the words slipped out, "You'll have Lily orgasming before her underwear's off". It was meant to be a joke, but it only reminded you why you were even in this situation.
The smile faltered for a split second on James' face as he dipped his head to look at the floor, his hair now curtaining your view of him. "That's the plan", he chuckles as he begins to casually suck on his still-soaked fingers as your jaw drops at the sight.
"James!" you exclaim as he returns his gaze to you. His look of innocence for the act only added to the desiring pulse in your core.
"What? Sirius said that there's nothing more tasty than a pretty girl. Seems he was right", he casually remarked with a shrug of his shoulders. All air seemed to rush from your lungs at the compliment that quickened your heart's beat and warmed your cheeks' skin.
You were once more captivated by his eyes as he inched closer, and the hardness still contained in his trousers poked your inner thigh. "Need some help?" you asked curiously, teasingly, reaching between your bodies to palm him.
James' eyes lowered to focus on your lips as he licked his own, wetting them, and all you wanted to do was taste him, but then he took a step back, your legs and hand stopping away from his warmth.
"Nah, I'll sort it later, don't worry", he explains whilst beginning to smooth the uncontrollable mop of black hair on his head.
A heavy sinking feeling settled in your chest as you realised you'd probably overstepped the thin line between what the two of you had been doing for the last couple of weeks.
James Potter, your best friend, had been since the first year at Hogwarts. Both were thick as thieves and when he'd previously admitted to never having kissed someone before and had finally convinced his long-time crush to date, he needed the practice as the fear of Lily turning him away for any bad kissing skills. As the good friend that you were, you offered to teach him how to kiss, which promptly ended with you both dry-humping to orgasms.
After, James had been on his date and returned, particularly thanking you on his knees as his kiss with Lily had been everything he had ever wanted. However, after this, it was like a drug you both couldn't get enough of. One lesson turned into another and another. How to touch a girl with and without clothes, t the right way to touch and kiss breasts, and now how to use his fingers.
Nothing penetrative yet, and it had all been about teaching him about pleasing girls, so you'd yet to touch him because that would mean you were both hooking up for satisfaction rather than education.
You were unsure where the lines were becoming blurred in your heart and mind. James had always just been your goofy best friend. Mr Popular at Hogwarts would go above and beyond to make you laugh or protect those he cares for, and he continued to be like this for you. However, the rooms felt too small when you were both in them. You spent way too much time fantasising about the feel of his hands or the taste of his lips that you'd yet to look at any other man since that first kiss in the Shrieking Shack.
Then, there came the added complication of Lily. Lily was also a close friend, and even though James and her were not officially boyfriend or girlfriend yet, the way he pined for her and the more dates they went on, the more you were filled with dread. It felt as if you were betraying her with your want for James. Even with the lessons, you knew if ever caught; it was almost impossible to explain that it was all for Lily's benefit in a fucked up sort of way.
You were essentially teaching the man you were falling in love with how to pleasure your friend for their future. All the while, you were becoming more emotionally involved than you'd ever meant to be. I mean, you had casually slept with numerous people during the last year at Hogwarts; sex and feelings were two things you were able to separate.
So now, you were unsure what had changed for you to fall for the man who was so evidently in love with someone else.
"Are you coming?"
His deep voice drew you out of your spiralling thoughts as you blinked at him in confusion. "Coming?"
"Yeah, to class?" he asked, picking up his bag and pulling the strap over his shoulder.
"Oh, yes, I just need a minute. You go without me anyway; we haven't got the same class next", you say whilst standing and trying not to wince at the dampness between your legs that had spread your thighs.
"You sure? I don't mind walking you", James ensured as he pulled on the tight area of his trousers around his crotch, but then gave up and covered his erection with his bag.
"I'm sure we're on opposite ends of Hogwarts anyway. I'll catch you later, Potter", you confirm whilst straightening your tie and shirt.
"Alright then, Sweetheart, catch you later".
With one more beautiful grin', he's off. Then you're by yourself and left to slump back onto the desk and rethink your life. However, you couldn't dwell on it as the clock tower bell began to ring, indicating the start of lessons. As you cursed to yourself, picking up your wand from your bag and waving it over your body, your clothes instantly corrected yourself, and the wet mess between your legs vanished.
You were utterly breathless by the time you'd arrived at potions, and it took a great deal of effort to ignore the lingering ache in your pussy as you attempted to sneak into the room.
"Ah, at last. Welcome miss! Please take a seat; we haven't started without you, dear," Professor Slughorn declared as he held his hand out toward your usual classroom seat as everyone stared at you.
Trying to ignore everyone's eyes, you rush to your seat beside Lily, that heavy, unwelcomed feeling returned to your stomach as she smiles at you, leaning close to whisper, "I told him you were in the bathroom, so he said he'd wait for you before starting the lesson".
You return her smile, however forced as you thanked her and turned your gaze back to the professor. Before long, Lily's sweet perfume drifted into your senses as she leaned in closer once more to ask, "Who's the lucky guy?"
A sharp pain shot through your neck with the speed with which you looked at her, "I don't know what you mean; I was actually using the bathroom".
She tilts her head to the side with an all-knowing look. "Mmm hmm, sure, sure. So why is your lipstick smudged then, huh?"
Your fingers quickly moved to the corner of your lips, frantically wiping away any residual lipstick when it dawned on you that you'd not put any make-up on this morning and had fallen for her trick.
Glaring at her, Lily gave you a brilliant smile whilst moving some of her luscious red hair behind her shoulder, declaring, "I can read you like a book; don't forget that".
Rolling your eyes, you playfully nudge your shoulder against hers, deciding to ignore the previous question. For some reason, unbeknown to yourself, you couldn't help but ask, "So how's it going with Potter?"
Internally, you were criticising yourself for even asking and showing interest in it, already knowing that the answer was something you honestly didn't wish to know.
Lily's grin softened until her lips pursed, and she began to write down the instructions from Professor Slughorn in the book on her desk. "It's going ok; I mean, he's definitely more of a gentleman than I thought he was ever capable of. I also think the exams are getting to him a little; he seems distracted at the moment".
This piqued your interest as you began arranging your ingredients before you, chopping whatever was closest to you without the slightest attention as you asked, "What do you mean?"
"Well, we were on head boy and girl duty two nights ago, and he always used to joke that he wanted a quiet corner away with me in a classroom or something, but now that you know, I'm more open to that. He seems distracted. He still holds my hands and gives me compliments and a kiss or two that makes me want more, but by the end of the duty, he will either find his friends or go to bed".
You swallow thickly, asking, "Oh really? So you guys haven't - I mean, you haven't done anything other than kissing?"
Lily's cheek blossomed with colour as she continued her prep for the potion before her. "No, not yet; I mean, I want to; he's a great kiss, but nothing so far. It still feels strange not to be cursing at him to get out of my sight, like I never pictured myself to be in this position, and maybe it's also taking him some time to get used to".
You were only half listening to what your friend was saying as your thoughts screamed at the fact he was only a good kisser because he'd practised with you. Also, the tiny part of you that was cheering her heart out at the fact that you were the only girl he'd touched intimately, for now.
"Psst. Oi! Goldie! Pea! Turn around. I know you can hear me", came the annoying whisper as you and Lily both glanced over your shoulders to Sirius, who was leaning across his desk, grinning from ear to ear, his shoulder-length hair tied at the nape of his neck.
You huffed, glaring at Sirius as you reminded him, "I've told you a thousand times not to call me that!"
The Marauder sarcastically sticks out his bottom lip, "But it's an endearing name, Pea!"
"No, it's not! It's bullying!" you remind him, turning further towards where he and Remus sat, the latter politely declining the conversation to continue with his work.
"It's not my fault you vomited peas in second year", Sirius pointed out with a cocky smirk.
Thankfully, Lily cut off your retort as she snapped, "Stop reminding her of that. I've told you that my hair is red and not gold!"
"Meh, semantics", he shrugs and appears eager again. "What are you both doing after this? We were thinking of getting a group of us together and heading down to Hogsmeade. Do you both wanna join? I'm sure James would want you there".
That nauseous sensation returned as you knew he wasn't referring to you as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively towards Lily. One part of you desperately begged not to go, not wishing to see Lily and James acting all lovey-dovey in public, and another part of you knew it would look suspicious if you weren't to attend. Who else were you expected to hang out with on a Friday evening other than your best friend, James?
Lily answered for you as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Of course, we'll both be there, but not to hang out with you; we don't need boys to have a good time".
You smile at her, forgetting all of your woes for a moment, watching as she adds a sprig of Rosemary into your potion and watching it change from the awful shade of red to a soft caramel colour to match hers.
"What would I do without you?" you say with admiration.
"I don't know, crash and burn?" she jokes, pulling a genuine smile from yourself.
Later in the evening, the two of you were true to Lily's word as you made your way there, joined with Marlene, and, not wanting to go with the boys, gave yourself some time to dress in something other than school clothes, opting for jeans and a warm jumper.
The three of you wandered through Hogsmeade, stopping in Honeydukes for a sweet treat before deciding to rest in the Three Broomsticks; however, you found what seemed to be the rest of your school year in the same place. There was hardly a free seat as the three of you pushed through the crowd to the bar.
"Evans! Over here!" James' voice shouted above the noise of everyone else from the corner of the room. Lily giggled as she waved over at him, and you tried not to wince with jealousy as you pushed her and Marlene in his direction.
"Go over there, I'll get the drinks". Thankfully, they didn't need much convincing before making their way over to the other Gryffindor. "Three butterbeers, please. Oh, and a large fire whiskey as well", you say, slipping the barmaid Rosmerta an extra galleon so she wouldn't question your age. You were old enough to drink, but there was a swift ban on students at Hogwarts being sold alcohol, but an extra galleon here and there, and no questions were asked.
As you waited for your drinks to be poured, you observed your surroundings and noticed a certain Ravenclaw watching you over the rim of his glass, a smirk flirting on his lips. You smiled back, holding his eye contact briefly before looking away from Quirinus. He was in Ravenclaw and relatively bright, if not a bit of a nervous nelly if he didn't have any alcohol in his system, which, by the looks of things, he was a few drinks deep and clearly in a flirtatious mood.
You were ready to make bad decisions when a hand on your lower back snapped your attention. The touch burned through your clothes to your skin as James appeared by your side. His face lowered so that he whispered into your ear as he questioned, "Is it bad that I can still smell you on my fingers?"
You swallow harshly, fighting to keep your face neutral as you couldn't help but quip back, "I'm sure your girlfriend would love to hear you say that".
James leans away to study your face, a frown adorning his expression, "She's not my girlfriend".
"Yeah, sure", you retort, turning away from him to nod at Rosmerta as she placed the drinks in front of you at the bar.
"Well, if she were my girlfriend, my fingers definitely wouldn't be smelling of you now, would they?"
The fire of jealousy that was being stoked in your heart was only being fueled further by his words. "I'm sure she could teach you a thing or two, Potter. You don't need me to taint your fingers".
"Maybe I do", he quickly responds but then corrects himself, "I mean, I don't think she has much experience. Anyway, you didn't mind it earlier when you were begging for more".
You turn to him with a glare that had him relaxing his stance as he realised he was on the threshold of overstepping. "Don't be so sure of yourself, James, and with the lack of experience you both have, wouldn't it be better for you both to be inexperienced together?"
Picking up the fire whiskey, you began to take heaving glugs of it, savouring the painful burn as it slipped down your throat. James eyed the drink as he leaned closer once more, his body half crowding around yours as he harshly whispered, "Where the fuck is this all coming from? I thought you were ok with what we were doing. It's nothing serious, just one single friend teaching another single friend, right?"
Yes, you answer in your thoughts, having not taken the fire whiskey away from your mouth, but then he's grabbing the glass and trying to take it away from you as he demands, "Hey, slow down, alright? You'll be pissed with the hour".
Giving him a shove with your shoulder, you spitefully say, "You aren't my boyfriend, Potter; stop telling me what to do. I want to drink, so get lost".
The concern in his hazel eyes drops as he looks at the two butterbeer, asking, "Are these McKenna and Evans? I'll take them and leave you to calm down".
"Thank fucking Merlin", you exclaimed with one final glare before he stormed off with the two drinks in hand.
You blew a long breath through your mouth, trying to ignore the overwhelming urge to scream, cry, or storm out. However, a brush of an arm against yours stole your attention as Quirinus now stood next to you at the bar, his Ravenclaw-coloured jumper vibrant in the candlelight.
"Fancy another firewhiskey?" he asked, and you nodded, not trusting yourself to be able to talk without crying.
The drinks came at a steady pace, and before long, you were feeling the effects, the anxiety that had hit you like the Hogwarts Express train from your argument with James had fizzled into anger. It only made matters worse when you would glance over the Ravenclaw's shoulder to see James wrapped his arm around Lily's shoulder, the two of them whispering to one another without a care.
A lump formed in your throat as the world tilted for a second. Quirinus noticed your glare as he, too, looked over his shoulder and assumed you'd prefer to sit with your friends as he offhandedly mentioned, "If you'd rather go and sit with them, I wouldn't be offended, you know".
"What?" you say, snapping out of your staring contest as you realise James is now staring right back at you with just as deep a frown behind his glasses. Giving your attention back to the man at your side, you quickly grabbed his arm, not wishing to be left alone, "Sorry, Quirrel, I really do want to stay with you. In fact, why don't we find somewhere a bit more quiet?"
The alcohol was definitely speaking on your behalf as his eyes lit up, his teeth nipping at his lower lip as he stood to his full height. "Ye-Yeah, I want to do that", he stammers enthusiastically as you grab his arm and head towards the back of the pub and climb the stairs, ensuring no one is following.
Sneaking past the bathrooms, you ascended even further into the depths of the pub until you found a spare living room with a sofa in front of the fire as you claimed, "This will do perfectly".
Turning around and before you could ponder any further on the man you really wished was here and deciding you needed to have some fun of your own, you grabbed the collar of Quirrel jumper and pulled him in for an eager kiss. However, the door barges open as you both spring apart.
You release a nervous laugh as you see no one is there, quickly rushing over to it and shutting the door, locking it properly with a wave of your wand. "Oops, must not have locked it".
Turning back towards Quirrel, he eagerly eyed you up and down. Not giving yourself time to regret the decision, you ran over to him, your arms moving around his neck as you pulled him into a quick snog. It was sloppy and distracting as he kissed you back with just as much eagerness.
It seemed Quirrell wasn't in the mood to wait as he soon fumbled with the button to your jeans. You silently have to give him some credit if he was going straight to the good without even touching your tits or kissing your neck. You wanted a distraction, and the fingers slipping into your underwear were definitely a distraction.
Especially as he began to vigorously rub your left labia rather than your clit. Attempting to shift your hips in your favour, he kept his fingers in the same dry spot, assuming your hip movements were a sign that he was doing a good job.
Great, you thought. Your love life was now just as dry and useless as your friend's life. Just fantastic.
Deciding there was still some hope left, your fingers moved into your jeans, your hand cupping the back of his fingers and moving them to finally circle your clit. However, the dryness and eagerness that he was moving made you feel overstimulated and ready for it to be over as fake moans began to spill from your lips.
"Fuck, you're so pretty", Quirinus moaned against your lips as he suddenly pulled back, but only so he could turn you on the spot and lean you awkwardly against the back of the sofa. Two things then started. One, his fingers shifted again back to the poor labia and away from your clit and two, he began to hump into your arse like a dog in heat.
Your eyes closed as you continued to fake the moans as his lips found the side of your neck as he nuzzled into you and continued with his pleasurable humps. You knew you could push him aside at any time, but for now, he was distracting you, even if you weren't finding any pleasure in it.
"Fuck you're so wet. Do you like that?" he asked, biting your neck like a vampire as you refrained from rolling your eyes.
Instead, you faked your seductive voice as you moaned, "Mmm yes, feels so good", even though you were pretty sure the wetness he was feeling was just sweat, as there was no way you were wet for this guy.
Matching the eagerness of his moans, you pretended to be close to orgasm just as his thrusts increased in speed, and your thighs began to ache as he pushed you harder and harder into the back of the sofa.
"Fuck!!" he cursed loudly into your ear as he came, and you two pretended to also orgasm, breathing heavily whilst bending over slightly to put some room between the two of you. As his fingers removed from your underwear, he proclaimed, "That was so good, wow. Hey, do you want to go on a date or something-".
His abrupt stop in the sentence has you turning with a questioning gaze but stopping short, seeing his face turn a pasty shade of green.
"Are you ok- Shit!" you quickly move out of his way as his hand covers his mouth, eyes bulge in panic, and he runs towards the door, wordlessly waving his wand and dashing out of the door with the promise of going to vomit.
You're unsure whether to be worried for his well-being and sudden turn or offended that he had suddenly become so unwell. Either way, you were well and truly finished with the day. Buttoning up your jeans, you began to move towards the open door and back down to the loud mass of students downstairs, but the door slamming in your face and audibly locking had you halting.
"What the fuck?" you question under your breath, rushing towards the door and twisting the handle, but it was thoroughly locked. "Alohamora" with a wave of your wand, you'd expected the door to unlock, but even this didn't work as panic slowly began to set in as you started to wonder if this was some trap in the room for people who sneak in. "Shit! Please open, please, please, please!" you repeat with more urgency as you continue to try and spell the door open, but then a low behind you in the empty room has you screaming and turning until your back is pressed against the door.
"He didn't make you cum”, James stated with venom laced in his words as he revealed himself from underneath his invisibility cloak.
"James?! What the fuck- have you been there the entire time?!" you hissed in rage, your body becoming hot all over as realisation dawned on you.
"Why did you fake an orgasm with him?" he asked, repeating the same subject as before as he stepped closer to you from where he was leaning against the desk at the opposite end of the room.
"You can't just follow me around, James! That's so fucking creepy, and wait - did you hex Quirrell? Is that why he was sick?"
"He fucking deserved it for not making you cum”, he declares as his body trembles with the restrained anger flowing through his veins, the vein in his throat bulging as he takes a step towards you.
Shaking your head in disbelief, you begin to pace in front of the fire, rubbing your hands over your face as you go through about every emotion humanly possible. "I don't understand you whatsoever! Who are you to judge who and how I spend my time? You never cared before, so why now?" Turning to face him, you see the anger that seems to have disappeared from his body as he slowly steps towards you, his eyes unblinking as they bore into yours, full of rich emotion that you were too frightened to name.
You felt breathless as he stepped into your personal space. The fire crackled to your side and illuminated half of his handsome face, reflecting off the glasses already beginning to slide down his nose as he peered down at you, and you had to clench your fist to stop yourself from pushing them back up again.
James was still wearing his school uniform, you noticed, giving yourself the slightest distraction from the anger and confusion pulsing through your body.
Your mouth suddenly felt dry as you asked quietly, "How did you know I was faking it?"
James breathed in through his nose as his eyes scoured your face. "There were a few obvious signs". You became utterly captivated with every word he had to say as he lifted his fingers, gently held your chin, and began to tilt your face further up to his as he lowered his own so there was only a breath width between the tips of your noses.
"One, you always hold your breath just as you're tipping over the edge. Two, your eyes were open; you usually close them as you become lost in the moment", he numbered off whilst gently kissing the corner of your lips and like every other time recently, your body reacted instantly to the touches, pulsing and begging for more but then he listed the final sign. You truly became wholly lost to James Potter. "And third, the reason I know you didn't orgasm was because you weren't saying my name".
A soft moan escaped your parted lips as he had you hypnotised and, blaming it once more entirely on the alcohol, closed the gap between both of your mouths.
The kiss was everything you could have ever wanted for a first romantic kiss with someone you had a crush on. However, it meant so much more. Barriers were being broken, friendships snapped for potentially a lifetime, and yet it was what you needed—more than the air in your lungs, than the heat blazing from the fire. You needed James, and he evidently needed you.
The gentle and tentative touch of your lips lasted for a single breath, and then all restraint keeping you back was released as both of you gripped each other fiercely. Your fingers wove through his soft hair, pulling him down firmly as his arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you until both of your chests were pushed together.
Where you'd once been overheating with rage, now you were ablaze with lust. The clothes were too tight and claustrophobic against your skin as you needed to touch his. Thankfully James had the same idea, as both of your faces tilted, the kiss deepening with longing strokes of tongues and swapping of saliva, just like you'd taught him those weeks ago, his hands began to move beneath your clothes frantically.
Before long, your jumper was carelessly dropped to the floor, the same with his tie and shirt. Your fingers explored his toned chest and stomach, enjoying the little hitches of breath that he moaned. However, it was your turn as he moved your bra straps off your shoulders as his nimble fingers unhooked the band at the back with a simple flick, another trick you had taught him last week.
Before you could compliment him, his lips were trailing down your neck, sucking and licking on the sensitive areas until you were mewling with need. However, he didn't stop lowering his face until his lips were wrapped around your nipple, pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth and pressing the flat of his tongue against it.
"James!" you keened, rising to the tips of your toes to press your chest harder into his face, and he loved it from the deep groan he released, his fingers flexing on your lower back.
The Marauder moved from one breast to the next, teasing and nibbling until you were a desperate mess. Gripping onto his hair, you tugged on it, forcing his face away from your tits so that you could go back to kissing him deeply whilst also pulling on his shoulders towards the direction of the sofa.
Catching onto the direction he was being pulled in, James took over the lead as he sat down and pulled you into his lap, where you straddled his thighs. You couldn't help but contemplate how the position mirrored the one that started this entire situation, except now you weren't teaching. He was more leading and dominating the situation.
The hand on your lower back pressed more pressure until your crotch was flush against his. It felt somewhat wrong to have your chests both naked and pressed together, but the rest was still covered with jeans and trousers. However, it didn't stop the moans from escaping either of you as his hands moved your hips so you were grinding on his cock.
"Sweetheart, I need these off. Right fucking now before I combust", James pleaded as he undid the button of your jeans.
"You two then, Potter, off!". Once more, the clothes were off of your body within the blink of an eye until you were both only in underwear. Returning to finding your pussy against his cock, now you could genuinely find some real pleasure as the fabric of your underwear and the shape of his erection pressed against your clit, causing your insides to clench with the need to be filled.
James began to chuckle as his lips wandered down your throat, causing you to sit back and ask, "What's so funny?"
Moving his face closer to yours, he confidently stated, "I can feel how wet you are, even through my boxers". The two of you looked down to see a wet patch had formed over the grey material of his underwear where you'd been rubbing yourself as you realised you'd soaked through your lace material. The smile soon drained from your face as you both looked at one another.
"I need you", you dared to whisper as your hands moved from his shoulders to cup his cheeks, skimming the edge of the metal frames of his glasses.
The Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he repeated the words with just as much passion, "I need you too".
It was almost like an out-of-body experience, your lust and arousal dictating your movements as you both held eye contact as you raised on your knees, pulling aside your underwear as James pushed the waistband of his underwear down to the mid-thigh.
Nothing separated the two of you now, and you could have cried as you positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. His arms moved around your body, hugging you close as he rested his forehead against yours.
"Oh Sweetheart, you feel - holy shit - you feel so good", James gasped as you lowered yourself to his length.
You were shaking with the overwhelming sensations pouring through your body, making just as pleading praises to the man currently stretching your cunt. For once, it wasn't about teaching him anything but just following instincts and responding to each other's bodies. You both took a second to adjust to the new sensations and then you couldn't wait another moment before rolling your hips, easing your body up and down.
The room echoed with the fire crackling and the sound of your drenched cunt being filled with James' cock over and over as he began to find more confidence, meeting your hips midway with his own thrust.
"Yes! Just like that!" you praise, tipping your head back and allowing him to move with his vigour as he fucked into you desperately.
"I- I feel like we're made for each other", he grunts as he looks down at where your bodies meet.
"Me too! James, please don't stop!" You could feel it, that tightening in your core that gave you such pleasure. You felt as if it was too much as it continued to build in the moment, as all you could do was cling to the man beneath you.
"That's it, Sweetheart, I want you to cum for me, say my name and cum”, he demanded as he fucked you as hard as he could, holding onto your shoulder to keep you in position. All air escaped your lungs as your eyes closed, and the tightness in your pleasure exploded in a flurry of clenches as you squeezed his cock through your orgasm, screaming his name like it was the only thing that mattered.
Through your overwhelming pleasure, you were half aware of the shivers and grunts coming from James as he couldn't contain himself any further and came with his shaft buried entirely within you. The thick seed spilt into you, mixing with your own juices and pooling into his lap as it began to slip out as his cock softened.
Heavy breaths and the stink of sex suffocated the small room as you both clung to the tendrils of hope that had bloomed from giving in to temptation.
But like most things, the happiness had to end as his grip loosened on you and the reality of the situation dawned on the both of you.
No more kisses were shared, no more longing looks as you clambered off of his lap, and the two of you began to dress, ignoring the fact that both of your underwear were now coated in bodily fluids.
Just as you pulled your jumper above your head and turned towards the door, James' hand circled yours. "Please don't shut me out, you're my best friend, I can't lose you". You don't say anything, and the emotions that had been threatening to spill all day finally surfaced as tears lined your eyes and your nose became stuffy. James looked devastated by your reaction as he stepped closer, his hands cupping either side of your face. "Did I hurt you? Please tell me you don't regret this".
"I should regret this", you begin to explain, letting the tears slip free, but James' thumb was there to swipe them all away. "But I don't, never with you. The only thing I regret is that this was your first time in this shitty little room and-. And your virginity wasn't meant for me".
James frowns at your words as he kisses your temple for a long second, "I'm pretty sure it's my virginity, and I can do whatever the fuck I want with it and give it to whoever I like. Also, side note, speaking about my virginity like this makes me sound like some virgin sacrifice".
You laugh tearily, leaning into his touch for a moment before stepping out of his grip and moving towards the door, turning the handle but finding it still locked. You couldn't turn around to face him, knowing it would break you to see the sadness in his eyes.
"Please don't go", James pleaded.
"Let me go, James", you whispered, meaning the sentence in more ways than one.
"I can't, Sweetheart", he admits, sounding almost broken.
"You have to. I don't want to be your bit on the side".
"You aren't my bit on the side; I mean, I can't do that to Lily; that's why I haven't asked her to be my girlfriend yet because of what we were doing".
Your heart sank at his words even though you knew he wasn't necessarily saying it to be cruel. "You can't do that to Lily, but you could do that to me? Please, James, please just let me go".
You were greeted with pure silence, and just as you're about to turn around and ask again, the door unlocks, and you're out the door in less than a second, rushing down the staircase and away from what you'd done but not before you're out of earshot as James screams the word "Fuck!" like a broken man.
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clockwayswrites · 7 months
Text
City Pigeons Bleed Green
WC: 1329 Masterpost CW: stitches, blood, canon typical violence, history of experimentation, bad (lbh evil) parent Fentons “I need to get to Bruce Wayne.”
“We should be able to arrange a conversation,” Tim said immediately. None of the shock and concern that Tim must have been feeling seeped through into his words. Jason always admired how even keel Tim could seem.
The kid’s eyes snapped to Tim, brow furrowed in confusion.
Tim just shrugged. “He does good in the city, so do we. Besides, his kids are targeted a lot and sometimes we get involved to help out with that. There’s a line of communication that we can use.”
“So what?” They rasped. “You let every kid who wants to talk to Bruce Wayne get to just ‘cause they’re bleeding out?”
“He’d say that was a good enough reason,” Jason said with certainty. He knew how much money and effort Bruce poured into Make a Wish and the children's hospital.
The kid squinted at him before glancing away. “I don’t think I’m ready to talk to him… like this…”
“Then a safe house for right now,” Tim insisted. “Just like the name says, it’s safe. We can get you patched up and you can rest somewhere you don’t have to look over your shoulder. When you’re feeling better, we’ll set up that meeting.”
“You’ll let a stranger stay at your safe house, just like that?”
“Kid,” Jason said with a sigh. “I don’t think you’re getting it. You’re a very hurt kid. You’re exactly the type of person that we’d do that for. We’re the Bats of Gotham and we protect her people.”
There was that ugly laugh again. “I’m not even from Gotham.”
“You’re here now. That’s all that matters in Gotham,” Jason said. He took the risk and held out his hand. Jason didn’t pray anymore, not since his mother died, but he still silently hoped that the kid would take it. Jason felt certain they wouldn’t make it if they didn’t take it.
The fingers braced against the grimy cinder block wall twitched. Then the hand reached out. The kid collapsed forward into the motion and Jason lunged to catch them. He lifted them gently, worried about how light they were.
“It’s okay, we’ve got you. We’ll make sure you’re safe.”
The kid hid their face against Jason’s jacket. Their words were almost too quiet to hear. “I don’t know if you can.”
“Never underestimate what a stubborn Bat can do, Kid.”
-
The kid passed out halfway to the safe house. It was probably for the best. Their injuries were… extensive would be too kind of a word.
Tim laid down a plastic sheet on the bed before Jason deposited the kid down on it. The hoodie, which couldn’t be the kid’s at that size, had to be practically peeled off. The main wound that must have been the blood splatter he noticed was the immediate concern, but it was everything else that worried Tim more.
This was more than signs of abuse, this was torture or experimentation. Those scars and wounds cut into the kid’s arms and torso was far too even and controlled. There were other, messier scars that looked like burns and stab wounds. The inside of their elbows were littered with track marks and their hands bruised from what must have been IV ports. The worst for Tim was seeing the metal collar around the kid’s neck, but he knew that wasn’t what was getting Jason. He didn’t need to see Jason’s eyes to tell they were glued to the track marks.
“Go take five and fill a bowl up with warm water,” Tim said.
“Red—”
“Hood,” Tim snapped, cutting off Jason’s growl. Tim had suffered Jason’s bite, the bark didn’t scare him anymore. Besides, they understood each other these days. They were the Bats will willing blood on their hands. “Go take five. They’re not going anywhere and I need your help to patch them up, so go take five and get your head on, okay?”
The fight drained out of Jason like a string had been cut. He nodded and stalked off to the tiny kitchen that was basically an afterthought to the living room. It was hardly their most glamorous safe house but it was close, had two bedrooms, and was secure, despite it’s shoddy appearance.
Tim had the old bandages and scraps of cloth peeled off by the time Jason came back to start cleaning away the green blood.
“We need to get antibiotics for them from Leslie,” Jason said after the worst was cleaned up.
“Definitely. This new wound is from a knife and some of these were wrapped with what I think was an old hospital scrub.”
“Lends credence to…”
“Yeah.”
Jason nodded stiffly. “This needs stitches.”
“Luckily I think bandages are fine for everything else,” Tim said.
He snapped off the nitrate gloves and put on a fresh pair. He carefully numbed the skin around the wound while he waited for Jason to be in a spot to hold the kid down should they wake up. The first few stitches went fine. Tim took the time to be extra neat. The kid didn’t need any worse scars because of his sloppy work.
Tim had just started on the forth one when the kid started to stir. They twitched and whimpered in their sleep. Jason pressed down carefully to keep them from moving too much.
“No, Mom, please, I’m your son! I’m not— Don’t… not again. I’ll be good…”
Tim looked up at the impassive red helmet.
“I’m good. I have him. Just keep stitching so we can get him tucked in to bed.”
“Okay,” Tim said and got back to work. It was hard to ignore the whimpered words and everything they implied, but Tim needed to focus. There would be time to start looking into everything after.
It was as he was cleaning up that Jason threw a wrench into things.
“Don’t run his DNA.”
“What?” Tim hissed, rounding on Jason. “That is clearly Bruce’s kid in there!”
“Exactly. It’s obviously his kid, there’s no doubt in that with the way he looks. And just as obviously he’s been tortured or experimented on. Don’t you think he’s been stripped of his privacy enough?”
All the fight bled out of Tim an instant. “Fuck. I didn’t think… I just wanted to…”
“I know. You wanted to help by solving this, but that’s not what this kid needs right now. So hold off until he feels safe enough to consent, okay?”
“Okay, no, you’re right, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Red,” Jason said, ruffling Tim’s hair with a wet hand. “Creepy stalking is just your way of caring, I get it. Just pull back a little this time. You can focus on that collar he’s wearing right now.”
Tim shuddered. “That thing needs to go. Am I staying on watch then?”
“If you’re fine with that. I’ll get Oracle to call the others to the Cave.”
“Sure,” Tim said. He didn’t want to miss that conversation, but someone had to stay with the kid and he was a better choice to get the collar off. “Just make sure I have a comm line in.”
“Of course. Can’t have you missing out on us discussing the old man’s sex life.”
“Ugh, never mind, I don’t need a comm line!”
“Too late!” Jason called out with a laugh as he headed for the door.
Tim flicked him off just to do so.
After double checking that the place was secure, Tim pulled out a tool bag. At least he could start by testing the collar for explosive residue or other traps that would keep Tim from taking it off. The thought of the collar being rigged made him sick to his stomach, but it fit too well with the canvas of scars that the kid bore.
“Who did this to you, Kid?” Tim asked, even though he knew he wouldn’t get a response. “And how soon can Hood put a bullet in their head for you?”
--- AN: So here's a little more of this for Trauma Tuesday! The Reds are very concerned! I'm still having fun writing a Jason and Tim who get along and understand each other in a way the other 'we don't kill' Bat's don't, threats of murder and all.
Sorry if there are lots of mistakes (I don't need them corrected, ty), it's been a bad fatigue spell here. Still hope you enjoyed it and stay delightful, darlings!
(Oh, and there's another continuation to the OG threaded to it by chroma if you want a different take!)
Masterpost you can subscribe to, as I no longer tag people!
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dark-and-kawaii · 7 months
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꧁༺ 𝒞𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓃𝑒 ༻꧂
Astarion loses sight of you in a fight, he fears the worse has happened to you. He finds you and manages to bring you back to shadowheart for healing, only to discover he has more to protect than just you…
Angst - Hurt - Comfort - Pregnancy
(Click For Part Two)
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You were fearless. He watched as you swung your dagger effortlessly, piercing into the necks of their enemies.
He wondered how you still managed to look elegant even when covered in the blood of fallen warriors.
His gaze never left you for too long, making sure you were safe, while he stealthed around the makeshift arena, racking up his own share of kills. How glorious this was! There was so much blood splattering all around them and with his love at his side it truly couldn’t get any better.
Astarion’s eyes couldn’t be everywhere though, and at some point, he lost sight of you. The last person to recognize him for what he’s worth, the one person he truly couldn’t afford to lose.
His head darted across the battlefield, desperately trying to find you. His panic plunged into sheer dread as fear overcame him. It was happening all over again, he’d seen this before… Alone.. No, please, he couldn’t let this be his fate.
He hadn’t felt fear this whole day; why should he? He was free of Cazador, had you- A subtle manic laugh drew from his throat, he’d never be free of fear, instead of fearing for himself or what his old master would do to him he now feared what would happen to you when in danger.
His red eyes turned a dark shade of black. The expression of a crazy man etched onto Astarion’s face. No, he wouldn’t let fear consume him, no more! He’d finally be the protector! Overcome with fury he went on a rampage. Cutting through the battlefield, slaughtering anyone and everyone in his way, determined to find you. He raced over to where he last saw you, faster than a blue dragon's lightning splits through the air in a storm.
Was he truly going to be the reason you passed on to the next life. Was his fate to destroy everything he held near and dear to his heart? He nearly killed you before with his own fangs and now, no! He wasn’t the cause of that, was he? He hadn’t ever tasted human blood before, but if he was stronger it wouldn’t have happened! If he would’ve ascended he would’ve been able to stop this, however he’s still just a spawn… How could you have fought for his love, a fool who couldn’t even protect you. A fool who was going to be the reason you die.
“FIND HER” He roared at the top of his lungs. “FIND TAV!”
The group of companions didn’t dare hesitate and instantly started searching the grounds, Gale being the second most worried.
Astarion was about to collapse to his knees before hearing Gale's voice, “I’ve found her!” in the distance. It filled him with more apprehension. All he could think is, ’what if she’s dead’.
Staggering up the hill where Gale’s voice had come from, Astarion can see a figure laying in the dirt next to the wizard, “No! You can’t die dammit! Get up!!” he rushed out his words, dismay evident in his tone as he knelt next to you.
“She is unconscious, but alive. There’s hope.” Gale replied.
Astarion let out a shaky breath of relief.
“We must get her back to camp,” Astarion demanded. “She needs Shadowheart, she’s the only one who can fix this!” His voice cracked despite his efforts to mask it.
“I agree.” Gale, mere inches from grabbing you to lift you in his arms until the pale elf stopped him, “Don’t touch her!- I- I will carry her.” Trying to compose himself he lifted you bridal style.
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Astarion never left your side during Shadowhearts attempts to heal you. Time never bothered him, not after his 200 years of torment, he waited as “patiently” as he could.
“Honestly, how long does it take! You could at least give me some good news!”
Shadowheart continued to focus on you best she could, everyone including the gods were used to Astarions fits at this point. Gale on the other hand not so much, he could hear Astarion all the way in his own tent which caused the wizard to scrunch his nose. Eventually, leading him to where you were being treated, “Astarion, why don’t you join me in some wine. I’ve got quite the choices, besides… It might be best if we give her some space.”
Astarion scowled, “You expect me to leave her side to join you in some cheap wine? Really? I didn’t think you could get anymore annoying, Gale.”
“It’s done. She’ll be fine after some more rest.” Shadowheart stood from your side and wipes the blood off her hands. She’s been traveling with you and these two men for far too long, toning out their bickering was a skill of hers at this point.
Turning to face you, if his heart could beat he knows it would’ve dropped in his chest this very moment… “Leave us-“ kneeling down next to your bedroll, his eyes fixed on your bandaged wound, “please.”
“I was able to save her,” -Shadowheart bent down towards Astarion- “and the child, but it took most of my energy and resources… Don’t ask for me again for a while. Keep them both safe.”
He was quiet, his eyes wide after the news he was just told.
“Ahhh,” Shadowheart’s voice was surprised, “she didn’t tell you yet? Hmm or perhaps she hadn’t known yet? Curious.”
Astarion could only stare at his love, “A-are you for certain?”
Gale interjected, “I doubt her magic would deceive her, congratulations.”
Dark bruises and cuts decorated your once perfect skin. A deep purple shade surrounded your right puffy eye. His eyes traveled further down your body, stopping at your stomach.
He caressed your still flat stomach, causing you to wince and awake. Retreating his hand, he awaited for your eyes to open and look up at him.
A-Astarion?” You spoke with a small smile carved on your lips.
“Yes, my love. It’s me.” He struggled out, trying his best not to crumble.
You were both silent, hands entwined with one another thankful that you both can spend another day alive in the presence of another.
He was the first to break the silence, “thank you.”
You were so weak, but you wanted to know why he was thanking you out of the blue, “For what?” Your voice barely heard.
“For this,” his hand stretching out to rest on your abdomen, “for giving me purpose again.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, not knowing what he was talking about until it finally hit you. Your arm wavered as you lifted it to place your hand atop of his on your belly. A gentle smile forming on your lips as you stared into his vermilion eyes.
When your breath became labored indicating you had fallen asleep again, Astarion’s attention was back at your torso where the bandage was slowly being stained by your blood. This moment of relief turned to anger again as he lashed out, slapping a metal canister of water out the tent with force. The absolute intrigued him at first, more power meant being stronger to protect you, but now… He was beyond ever considering it again. The cultist not only almost killed you, but the child growing from within you!
“How dare they…” He seethed, “How dare they harm her and my child!”
Astarion was pacing around angrily, how could he have allowed this to happen? He started to blame himself.
“Astarion-“ You spoke up, attempting to calm him down.
“I’ll show them, my love-“ he cut you off, “that nobody is allowed to touch what is mine.” He growled.
His eyes darkened again: “I’ll make them pay.”
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tteokdoroki · 1 year
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🦭—SIGHS deku being so heavy that when u squirt he can't be pushed out so he just sinks deeper with soft grumbles ): massages his hips into yours as u knead at the mattress )): I JUST THINK HES NEAT,,
i’m howling actually. he is so neat!!!! mdni.
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“d-deku!” you’re gasping, high pitched and whiney with your lungs desperate for breath. they expand wide between your rib cage and the mattress your boyfriend has you pressed into— all of his weight, heavy over you and his chest sticky against your back. “‘m gonna…gonna— oh fuck, baby! gonna make me cum.”
deku laughs, his warm breath tingling gently against the shell of your ear— contrasting with the force behind each of his calculated thrusts, slender hips lunging forward to push his fat cock deeper along your soaked squishy walls, “uhuh, you close, angel? can tell with how your greedy little pussy clenches around me,” as if in queue, his seedy, blistering tip nudges new pleasure spots along the ridges of your insides— making you seize up and ripple around the stretch of izuku’s girth. he chokes on a moan that sends dopamine crackling across your brain, licks predatory stripe from your neck to just behind your ear and curses when you cry out his name again. “keep that ass up for me, throw it back on me a little bit, baby. just so i can fuck you better.”
you do your best to lift your hips from underneath deku, shuddering at how his luscious green hair tickles your shoulders from behind and he quickly slips a pillow under your bruised hips to keep you arched how he wants. the new angle has your cunt squelching with lewd suction noises every time izuku pushes into you, and his rough fingers slip between your mess of sweaty and arousal stained limbs to fumble with your swollen clit as blood rushes to it. you barely have any room to breathe between the way deku fucks you and the way he touches you— treading on the thin line of euphoria and losing your sanity.
“be a good girl, be my pretty little girl and cum f’me,” he slurs against your skin, practically drooling as his heavy length hits deep and churns up your insides— cockhead never letting up on your abused g-spot. “that’s it, make a mess for me. god, fuck.”
“i can’t, can’t. i-izu-!” clawing at the sheets, your tiny mewls become louder, heftier and fill the room with their song combined with the wet slaps of skin on skin and bed creaking beneath the weight of sex. you let your head fall back against deku’s freckled shoulder, mouth hanging wide open when your orgasm washes over you in a wave that threatens to drown you. the knot in your stomach unravels way too quickly, and you gush clear streams of your arousal straight from your mound.
“fuck, you’re squirting,” deku sounds elated, drawing wide and fast circles on your clit, never letting up with his thrusts no matter how much you squirt because he’s just so thick, so heavy that all his cock does is plug you full. “that’s it baby, lemme see you fall apart on me. uhhuh, you like that?” cooing condescendingly, he only slips deeper inside the heat of your puffy pussy as clear streams of arousal bathe his cock, your entrance clinging to every vein on his shaft.
he leaves you a drooling twitching mess against the crushed sheets, pressing his hips flat against your ass to grind into you in slow circles. “wan’ you to cum baby, please izuku. cum inside me, please.” you beg, hiccuping and twisting the duvet between your shaky fingers. you squeal as deku picks up the pace, your arousal splashing against his tummy and pelvis, fat drops of it running down the insides of your thighs.
“take it baby, all of it,” the last spurt of his energy is used to fuck you until he creams your cunt, filling you up with his thick seed and grinding in you until he’s sure it takes. the pro hero collapses onto you, kisses pressed across your back before he leans up to whisper.
“let’s try that again, shall we? have you squirt while my cock’s deep, deep inside you, huh angel?”
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hihomeghere · 20 days
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My eyes only | Arthur Morgan / Reader
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Word count : 500+ (just a little guy) Summary : Arthur thinks you look like a work of art Warnings/tags : Fluff, allusions to smut, nakedness, Arthur being in love, set in Shady Bell.
“You look like one of them paintings.” Arthur said lying next to you. Supporting himself on his arm as he sat up, his blanket hanging low on his hips. The sight offers you the slightest peek at the low v of his pelvis. His arm unconsciously flexed, the muscles of his bicep pulled tight.
“What do you mean?” You chuckled, rolling over to face him. Heat poured off your skin, your hair sticking to the back of your neck as you come down from your high. The only thing covering your nakedness was a flimsy sheet, pulled lazily over your body by Arthur.
“You know, those portraits.” He said, a wicked grin on his face, “The ones that French feller made in Saint Denis.”
“Arthur!” You laughed, hitting him on the chest, a satisfying slap echoing through the room.
“What?” He laughed, deep and heartily. His shoulder shook as he grinned.
“You’re awful.” You said, shaking your head, trying to hide your smile.
“You’re laughin’.”
“Am not!” You chuckled looking up at the rotted ceiling. He rolled over, wrapping his hand around your bare waist. Digging his fingers into the soft skin of your side, you squirmed laughing under him. “Stop! Stop!” You cried, your cheeks hurting from how hard you were smiling. The setting sun peeking through the window, illuminating Arthur’s backside like a halo. Although he was anything but an angel at the moment. “I’m gonna pee!” You laughed, your hands planted on his chest as you tried to shove the ox of a man off of you.
“Alright, alright.” He relented, collapsing on top of you. You let out a loud ‘omph’ as he pushed all the air out of your lungs. You rolled your eyes, your fingers drawing mindless patterns along his freckled back.
He picked up his head, smirking up at you. “I’m serious, ya know?” He said softly, his finger trailing down your cheek. The hands of a killer, hands that have beaten and broken the strongest of men. Now lay featherlight touches along your face. “You’re beautiful.” He said, a soft blush covering his cheeks, the scars on his nose and chin a stark white against his skin.
If anyone looked like a work of art it would be Arthur. His body seemed to be carved out of marble, strong and hard. His muscles rippled under his flesh. And those eyes, bright blue pools you often found yourself drowning in.
“I think I should be saying that to you.” You whisper, smiling up at him. He shakes his head, a grin pulling at his lips.
“Nah, ain’t much to look at here ‘cept for you.” He mumbled, laying a kiss on your shoulder. You’d have to disagree, but your words die on your tongue as his lips lay a trail over your collarbone and up your neck.
“Maybe I should ask Mr. Châtenay to paint my likeness, hm?” You tease. His hand, no longer laying dormant next to your body, squeezes your hip.
“Not a chance in hell darlin’.” He said grinning wickedly at you. His other hand that had been moving along your cheek gripped the back of your neck. “You’re for my eyes only.”
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unmarlou · 13 days
Text
work song.
pairings. percy jackson x fem!reader.
summary. not even tartarus could keep percy from coming home to you.
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lacy says. don’t say anything about me using the same middle pic as my last fic. pls.
· · ౨ৎ · ·
it was the longest twelve minutes of percy’s life.
his eyes were sown shut, fearing if he opened them it would all go wrong somehow. percy was always one to think he would screw everything up.
his fingers were blistered so badly he thought there wasn’t a single part of normal skin left, but nevertheless he pressed them against the doors of the death with every bit of strength he could muster. which wasn’t a lot. in the moment of heat he heard the one thing he craved most in the world, your voice.
come back to me, percy. come home.
he was so sure it was all in his head but it didn’t even matter. sweat was beading down his whole body while holding a lunge at the right side door. he held his eyes so tight he began to see stars - or was he just going to pass out?
no. no he couldn’t. he would not.
annabeth’s screams beside him were drowning out. he searched his mind for anything to cling to, to keep him grounded, to keep him going.
he went back to the same memory he replayed every morning and every night and most afternoons- the first time he’d ever seen you. he could see every detail, from the small beads of sweat on your neck from a humid new york summer to the bat of your eye to the ever-so-small wrinkle of your orange shirt. the way you had glanced at him, passively. twelve-year-old-percy’s thoughts came flooding back, she’ll probably never look at me again.
he was so close to throwing up he was thinking of ways to turn his head so he wouldn’t get any on annabeth, while remaining in his position. he grunted viscerally, his arms and legs burning and shaking with work.
you’ve been so brave. you’re so close, percy.
he threw his head back at your voice. he heaved the greatest sigh of relief, which he probably couldn’t afford but truly couldn’t help - this was everything he’d ever wanted to hear, especially from you. the air was so thick and hot it didn’t bring anything other than more pain, scorching his lungs.
in a feeble attempt at aid, he brought himself to a moment two summers ago. he could almost feel the tuft of the beach towel below his arms. yours and his laughter radiated in his ears; he couldn’t remember what was so funny, he guessed even then you two weren’t really sure. it was just the both of you on the long island sound, unable to catch your breaths. you’d grabbed his arm in the midst, holding on with shut eyes and a heaving chest. percy kept talking, adding layers to the joke, in hopes you’d keep laughing and never let go. he knew even the birds could never sing something so sweet.
that horrible song about piña colada’s and getting caught in the rain had started again for the third time. he’d never be able to go to a margaritaville after this. but this also meant they weren’t too far now.
his head came to rest against his arm searching for comfort that couldn’t be found. his body battled between restlessness and exhaustion. all he wanted was to get out of this damn place whilst also wanting to collapse right here and accept a heroes fate.
annabeth’s hand grazed his shoulder and he lifted his head to meet her. her eyes bore into what was left of his soul, her jaw clenched, and brows firmly knit- she’d never looked so serious, “we’ve made it this far, no giving up.” her expression softened ever so slightly at percy’s anguish, “she’s counting on you. no giving up.”
you were counting on him. of course this was a fact he’d known all this time, but when thinking about you down in the pit of hell, he’d only ever thought about collapsing in your arms like a little boy that’d experienced a burnt tongue or scrapped knee for the first time, the worst pain he’d known so far. but hearing the words aloud was promoting this revelation to his forefront.
you were counting on him. just as you had when on that boat, on that island, the middle of the sea to retrieve that gilded ram fleece and take you home. just as you had fighting back to back in that open field as enemies poured in from zeus’ fist, some closing a circle around you two, the thought of a vulnerable backside never crossing either of your minds, in the acts of protecting your home. just as you had on a deserted manhattan, never once sharing your true worries about losing him because you held faith he’d prevail, and when he did, those final moments on mount olympus where he denied sovereignty because you were counting on him to return home with you.
you were counting on him, like you had been this entire year. on a relentless search to find your stolen heart, one finally yours, and bring him home.
there were sudden surges of anger running through his veins at the realization that absolutely everything had been striped from him- he was literally a ghost of his former self just a few seconds ago. he would see you again, so help him gods. and he would take revenge on everyone and everything that separated him from you.
“i will kill gaea,” he muttered. “i will tear her apart with my bare hands.”
with the elevator shaking like the power of the four corners of the earth was working against it, and it was, every feeling he had, both emotional and physical, was bounding to send percy into overdrive.
what came next was simultaneously the fastest and slowest sequence of events he’d ever experienced. he could see every still shot as it happened: the doors shuddered open and almost took his fingers with it, not even gaining his bearings, dusty ancient air smacked him in the face with unexpected velocity, quickly he saw a shot of leo, gods he’d never been so happy to see leo, then the floor became closer, closer, closer, he knew what was coming and the last thing he could tell himself was, think of her, her, her.
“are you even listening to me?”
he was, he promised he was, but your cheek was glistening in the silver light and your arm was just barley grazing his and your scent mixed with the saltwater, not your perfume, just you, was enough to make him lose track of everything.
“yeano.”
you rolled your eyes, the playful way with a ghostly smile on your lips, the way you always did when he said something kind of stupid, and he thanked the gods he frequently said something kind of stupid.
sitting up in the rafters of the argo ll, wind brushed past attempting to take your clothes with it. he was trying his absolute best to contain himself, to maintain an ounce of normalcy in an otherwise very opposite setting. but he’d be lying right through his teeth if he said he didn’t want to be in your back pocket right now, and stay there forever.
“i’ll just never tell you how much i miss you ever again, i guess.” you faux hurt and he knew it.
finding it in himself to touch you without going crazy, he brought you to the crevice between his chest and arm, “i missed you, too. maybe even more.” saying the last part in a hush, fearing his own feelings.
you were recounting the last eight months, telling him about your nonstop search, never deviating from the task, and in the same vein, conveying just how happy you were to be with him, finally. even if it was bittersweet.
your hand played with his, an action that sent tingles from his back down his arms, as your back rested against his side. the silence was enough for him, perfect even. with newly regained memories still weaving their way through his mind, he knew this was a position you two had sat in time and time before, but it didn’t fail to make his heart hammer.
the feeling of your warmth on his was almost nostalgic in a way, like he knew it, he knew he knew it, but it was so distant yet so comforting he felt like it must’ve been from some dream.
“we’ll be back home before you know it. together.”
and then, the scene switched.
it was hot. and humid. he was eternally grateful for the umbrella overhead, shading the table from the unruly italian sun. you were seated opposite him, but you certainly weren’t looking at him. your gaze was far and away, unfixed and slightly unnerving in his opinion.
he kept his fingers under yours regardless, running his thumb over them with ease. the newly empty chair beside you both was borderline antagonizing, he knew, but before he could pick your brain, you confided.
“i have a bad feeling, percy.”
your croak with the use of his name made blood run cold under burnt skin. you didn’t use perseus, but still, you rarely ever said it unless it was serious, an indication to him of severity.
you weren’t nearly this down seeing annabeth off, of course you were upset but this change to anxiety was after her leaving. “i’m not too thrilled about it either but, she’ll be okay. she-”
the shaking of your head cut him off. you still weren’t looking at him, which added to his unease. he tilted slightly in hopes of catching your eyes, but was unsuccessful. he continued his thumb stroke, subliminally signaling he was here.
he watched your lips contort, trying to find the words to fit. selfish as it was in the moment, he thought he could lean over and kiss you, take away any worry and just be one.
your sigh was strenuous, “something bad is going to happen, i don’t know. i just…”
you finally met him back at the small table in the middle of rome. gods you were so pretty. you sat just outside the umbrella, casting half of yourself in bronze, he was amazed how unaware you were, of your beauty in moments like these. he had to kick himself in the leg to stop from blurting it out.
connecting your fingers with his, a search for comfort despite the sweltering heat making it near to impossible, you squeezed, “i just don’t want to lose you again.”
he reciprocated, feeling confident in his answer, “you won’t.”
and then, the scene switched.
your shrill scream was enough to make the angels cry. to make him cry.
in the seconds it took for you to turn around and try to assist frank, leo, and jason, percy had dove over the edge to catch a falling annabeth. although there was absolutely no hesitation on his part, in no world was he going to leave his best friend to fall, he felt an all consuming sickness at the impending outcome.
there must’ve been words shouted and exchanged all around but he couldn’t hear them over the roaring in his ears, all of his strength being put to use in opposite directions. he could see nico, hazel, and most importantly - maybe most disheartening - you, leaning over the edge.
his mind was working a mile a second, thoughts blaring all around despite his inability to really focus on them. he knew what he needed to get out first and foremost, “the other side, nico. we’ll meet you there. understand?”
his arm was shaking so violently and the weight on his other was becoming unbearable. he didn’t want to have more time to think this situation over, “lead them there! promise me!”
“i-i will.”
that was all he needed from him. his vision now settling on you. if you’d told him a goddess had come down to see him off, he would’ve believed you. his thoughts suddenly cleared, if only for a second.
light poured in from the hole above, illuminating your silhouette. you’d never looked so beautiful. percy felt such shame he couldn’t tell you that. from the look on your face, words weren’t really necessary. you understood, he knew you did. he knew you knew he needed to do this. he felt maybe there was even some part of you that encouraged him to, for annabeth was your best friend too, and you both knew if the fates had it be percy who turned around, you would’ve dove after her all the same.
“come back to me.”
“always.”
and as he let his fingers slip, falling into the chasm, all he could do was stare up at your fading imagine, because if there was a last thing he was to see, he needed it to be you.
the ground was dirty.
he could taste it. not that he was one to go around tasting floors but he could tell it was old and dirty. the stench of stale air was an unwelcome accompaniment. his body was throbbing, a constant pulse from the top of his head to his feet, every time feeling like a new stab wound.
his hearing was muffled, just making out a commotion of sorts, seemingly far away. his arms were uncomfortably spread beside him, from falling to the floor, he remembered. they were sore to move but not impossible.
he just barely had a grip on who he was when he felt a hand. a soft hand, a hand pulsing with life, one that had given comfort at every turn. it was shaking his pained shoulder, while another soothed at his connecting forearm.
he could feel the breath on his ear before the words, familiar and warm, and though he swore to be sick of warm for a long time, he’d never be sick of this.
“percy?”
an ache at the core of his being subsided instantly. his eyes shot open, without second thought, without even a first.
it was dark and hazy, his vision greatly distorted with hooded lids. but that didn’t stop the inherent recognition of your presence beside him. he’d know the curve of your face and shoulders, the feel of your hands and breath anywhere, any time, and any place.
because you were home.
and he had done it. he had come home to you.
· · ౨ৎ · ·
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wileys-russo · 17 days
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/wileys-russo/747469515079778304/1-if-i-was-her-gf-best-believe-that-entire-flight
perhaps a tiny cheeky blurb about annoying her like that on the flight 😌🙏🏼
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in flight entertainment II a.putellas
you stifled a laugh as your girlfriend finally joined you downstairs, luggage in hand which was left at the front door beside your own, her prized LV makeup caddy carefully balanced on top making you roll your eyes.
but it was her current pre flight outfit that had your giggles setting in.
normally you'd not dare to question whatever it was the spanish captain put on her body given that it could be a burlap sack and she'd manage to make it look good.
plus, you were more than happy to raid her closet at will.
though today the case was that both of you sponsored by nike were headed to an event in paris for a launch and the unveiling of alexia's statue, and so you'd both been sent your outfits for the entire trip separately.
assuming you'd both be sent the same you hadn't really worried to show one another the contents of your packages, but now it was coming to light that was most certainly not the case.
you ducked out of sight as she busied herself clearly checking off a list on her phone, if there was something the footballer swore by it was a list, you cleared your throat and took a seat on the sofa.
"ale!" you yelled from the living room, the blonde hurrying in with a concerned look tossed your way at the volume of your shout for her. "qué pasa?" the taller girl asked with a frown as you pretended to look intently at something on your phone screen.
"did you see the news? there is a viral plague of moths in barcelona! they have been eating curtains, fabric furniture, shoes, cotton, polyester-" you looked up at that point and gasped dramatically.
"dios mio mi amor it is too late, they have attacked you!" you pointed as her once genuinely concerned look melted into a displeased glare. the teasing was directed at the fact that her current outfit of choice, a bright pink nike hooded sweatsuit, something the girl often lived in when pottering around your shared home in winter.
but there was something different about this one in the fact that it was, seemingly intentionally, full of holes. all the same size and scattered around every inch of the set.
mind you, you weren't complaining about the slivers of tanned skin which popped out through these holes but you were far too consumed in how amusing it was over anything else.
but your girlfriend clearly did not share that view.
"you are not funny bebé." the blonde grumbled, shoving you to fall back down onto the sofa as you stood and she passed you headed for the kitchen.
"i hope you emailed nike and told them your outfit came damaged amor." you called out with a snicker, squealing as she balled up and threw at you the hand towel she'd just use to wipe her washed hands on and it landed on your head.
"alexia!" you huffed, shooting her a glare now as she simply winked and ducked down, rummaging around in the cupboard beneath the sink for something.
grabbing the damp hand towel before it stained the sofa you rolled your eyes and followed after her, seeing an opportunity as a smile curled onto your lips.
carefully twirling up the hand towel in your hand you walked past the blonde and struck, snapping the towel against her ass with a satisfying crack as she almost fell forward into the cupboard in shock.
"it slipped!" you smiled innocently, tossing it onto the counter as your girlfriend stood and glared you down. "no!" you laughed as she lunged at you, ducking under her arm and racing off as her footsteps sounded quickly after you.
"alexia!" you laughed louder as she caught you, arms snaking around your waist and lifting you into the air before collapsing onto the sofa, twisting around so your back met the cushions and she hovered over you.
"idiota." the blonde tutted, flicking your nose playfully with a shake of her head. "i saw an opportunity and took it mi vida, can you blame me? you'd have done the same!" you smiled reaching up to poke at her own nose as your girlfriend hummed, unable to really argue that point.
"you look good in pink, i miss when your hair matched." you spoke softer, arms wrapping around her neck as her legs settled either side of your hips baring a little more of her weight on top of you.
alexia only smiled at that, leaning down to peck your lips a few times, your hand moving to cradle the back of her head and encourage it deepen a little to which the taller girl paid no objections.
you exhaled and closed your eyes with a happy smile as the blondes lips lazily trailed kisses down your neck now instead, large hands settling on your waist as her thumbs rubbed small circles into your hips.
"can i ask you something cari?" you questioned after a few minutes as her head popped up, nodding down at you curiously. "do you feel...holy today?" you grinned, sticking your finger through one of the tears in the hoodie and poking at her shoulder.
"hey come back, baby!" you laughed as she immediately pushed up and off of you with a scowl and a shake of her head. "the car will be here in five minutes, levántate!" the catalan called over her shoulder before jogging back upstairs.
~
"amor." alexia warned as your finger hooked through one of the holes in her back, tracing the tattoos which appeared in tiny slivers. you ignored her, continuing to tug and poke and pull at the holes revealing more and more inked up skin.
"para eso!" the midfielder groaned, hand reaching around her back to push you away. "comportarse." the blonde clicked her tongue, her own fingers looping through the belt loops of the parachute pants you had on and drawing your body into hers.
"its not my fault you're like a big blonde beautiful walking fidget toy." you mumbled into her shoulder, the taller girl looking down at you with a confused frown as you chuckled and repeated the phrase back to her in spanish.
"hola sal!" you called out to your teammate as she arrived, handing off her luggage to be stored as the tall girl greeted you both with a hug. "just get out of bed capitana?" salma grinned teasingly poking at alexia who sighed deeply, pushing you away and making a beeline for the jet as soon as it was called for boarding.
"moths attacked our house, put holes in all her clothing." you tutted with a shake of your head, salma laughing as you fell into step with one another following after alexia into the jet.
you gave your girlfriend a look of mock offence as you sat in the seat directly across from her and she rolled her eyes, kicking her as a slightly smile tugged at the blondes lips and she looked out the window.
declining the offer of a drink from the air hostess you tensed ever so slightly as the engines roared to life, alexia noticing right away knowing you were fine once up in the air but take offs always had you a little apprehensive.
"nena, ven aquí." the girl nudged you with her foot, spreading her legs a little more and tapping her lap, eyebrows knitted together with concern. "estoy bien." you shook your head with a small smile, embarrassed that this still bothered you after so many years.
"bebita." alexia called for your attention again, starting to launch into a story from her childhood as a means to distract you, tapping her foot against yours anytime your eyes would stray toward the window.
your stomach lurched and you death gripped the arm chairs either side of you as the wheels left the tarmac, alexia talking even faster and louder and continuing to keep your gaze locked with hers.
finally the seatbelt sign flicked off and with one final dip of your stomach the plane seemed to settle, now flying smoothly as you exhaled shakily and loosened your grip, muscles relaxing.
again your girlfriend spread a little and tapped her lap, pouting dramatically as you shook your head and with a roll of your eyes unclipped yourself and stood.
"much better." alexia mumbled as you sat down on her lap, kissing your shoulder lazily and relaxing back into her chair. you busied yourself speaking with salma and a few members of the team but eventually you grew bored.
it was barely a two hour flight but you were restless, your girlfriend easily having fallen asleep as you felt the rhythmic rising and falling of her chest behind you.
shuffling a little more so you were wedged into the side of the seat you felt alexia stir but rolled your eyes as still hers remained shut, it astounded you that she never found any struggles with falling asleep at the drop of a hat.
so naturally, you found a way to entertain yourself.
you started off by just counting all the tiny holes in your girlfriends sweatsuit, but when that failed to ease your growing boredom it turned a little more physical, your pointer finger poking in and out of them instead.
"mi amor, stop." alexia mumbled tiredly, hand grabbing your wrist and pulling it away, eyes remaining closed. but of course, you continued, moving from the holes in her arm to the holes along her legs, tugging at them.
"bebita." alexia warned, cracking one eye open and raising an eyebrow as you smiled, pecking her lips and moving to poke at the holes in her hood which was draped over her head, finger digging into her neck.
"no." alexia woke properly now, grabbing your hand and holding it in her much larger one, tugging it down to rest against your leg as her eyes closed again. so naturally with your other hand you continued, poking this time at the holes around her torso.
you felt her jolt beneath you as you prodded at a particularly sensitive part of her ribcage, a strange noise halfway between a snort and a laugh leaving her mouth as you dug in a little harder with a grin.
"no no no amor por favor-" alexia begged as you tugged your other hand free, fingers digging into the tiny tears and poking and prodding causing her to laugh and wriggle beneath you.
though the taller girl with her muscular build quickly regained control over the situation, capturing your hands with her own and pinning them to the arm chairs.
you heard her catch her breath with a slight wheeze, your head slumping back to her shoulder and kissing her cheek before she turned and looked down at you with an annoyed glare.
"i love you." you promised sincerely, watching as a soft smile melted into her features and she let your hands go, lightly smacking your forehead before kissing it and repeating the three words back to you.
"what can i say cariño...my life without you is just, one big hole." you quipped teasingly, sticking a finger through the slit in her hood and jamming it into her ear as she huffed and yanked your hand away.
"alexia!" you squealed quietly as she bit your shoulder, pinching your hip with a shake of her head, her hand coming to grab your jaw so you were locked eye to eye, a slight smirk on the older girls own face.
"bebita i am going to make sure that we leave you behind in paris."
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maxzinn · 1 month
Text
AAAAAAA ok hear me out again PLEASE SHSGDHJ
Part 2
Me brain imagining reader being yanqing’s mom… like 200 years younger than jing yuan (i guess) and this is how the found family trope starts to take turn ✨ Mara struck and abominations of Yaoshi ruined the peace held within the alchemy commission, the lively hustle and bustle of healers and vendors were suddenly cut short by the chaos caused by the monsters who did nothing else than to cause harm and wreak havoc.
As the people of the Luofu ran for safety to save themselves... you, a single mother who only wanted to buy vitamins and herbs for your baby boy, got cornered by the abominations of abundance.
Holding your toddler in your arms, you tried to shield him from the fire and hush his cries to atleast bring him a feeling of protection and safety. Slowly stepping back, you hit the wall and coughed as the smoke began to fill your lungs. You tried to cover baby Yanqing's nose but were getting weaker by the minute, the smoke almost suffocating you.
When you collapsed as you sat down, still holding him, Yanqing's cries grew louder as he tried to protect you from the monsters with his wooden toy sword (awwh 😭)
Suddenly a slash of a weapon was heard and the abominations collapsed on the ground. Relieved that you and your little boy would be saved, you tried to thank your savior as you peered through your half-lidded eyes.
Huge stature, fluffy white hair, golden eyes brighter than the sun... you fainted, only hearing the sounds of Yanqing asking the man for help and the said man trying to wake you up as you passed out.
When you wake up in an unfamiliar room and immediately sat up when you remembered Yanqing, but due to your poor condition, you ended up coughing.
"now now, take it easy"
you looked at the source of the voice and saw the general, standing by the door still holding the knob as he seemed like he was just about to enter the room.
"g-general? what's... wait, where is-" as if on cue, a certain little blonde haired boy who was hiding behind the general's legs, peeked to look at you and his eyes lit up once he saw you were awake.
"mommy!" your sweet boy ran towards you and hopped on the bed to embrace you.
you immediately checked him for any injuries or burns when the general interrupted your thoughts.
"the little man is safe, I can assure you that. I had him checked by the healers for any other health issues, thankfully he's alright and unscathed. looks like you were the only one who was in need of help" his golden eyes stares at you as you sighed in relief.
"thank the aeons..." you breathed and patted the top of Yanqing's head, smiling so beautifully. Jing Yuan found the glow of motherhood in you so beautiful and endearing that he found himself interested, chuckling at the sight of you doting on Yanqing.
As you heard his chuckles, you pulled out of your thoughts and remembered that the general is in fact inside the room... in who know's room... with you and your child...
You soon became conscious of your actions when your brain finally registered his presence so you turned your gaze to meet his, but eventually wandered as you couldn't bear to hold your gaze.
"thank you... for taking care of my son" you shyly mumble a little thanks
he laughs as he noticed the change, "relax, you've been quite through a lot maam". his gaze still bore on you, "may I ask for your name?"
you slowly look up to meet his gaze, "y/n... general"
"y/n huh..."
unbeknownst to the both of you, while you and the general were exchanging words and staring at each other's eyes, Yanqing was quietly watching it all unfold... his eyes alternately looking at you and the general in confusion, and made an unbelievable conclusion... right in front of the general so boldly.
"...are you gonna kiss?"
"Yanqing!" you sputtered
should I make a part 2 of this? hmm...
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spirit-lanterns · 9 months
Text
MILLION DOLLAR GIRL
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synopsis: kafka wants to add you to her bounty.
featuring: kafka
rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)
warnings: sub! afab fem reader, strap on, pet names, sort of enemies to lovers, doggy style, hair pulling, catching feelings, mentions of one night stands, slight degradation, mockery, gro.ping, pretty wholesome even for a smut, not proofread.
art credits: what does the fox say
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“For someone so whiny, you sure quiet down once I put some inches in you, hm?”
Kafka chuckles darkly at the sight of you all sprawled out on your bed, pounding away at your cunt with the dark purple strap on tied to her hips. You and Kafka had a complicated relationship, as your father wanted her dead, but you wanted her in your bed. Spewing a love-hate relationship between you two, as you couldn’t help but fall for the Stellaron Hunter’s charms, only to end up bent over your bed with her cock slamming into you.
“You came at the worst— nnngh…time…” you groaned, feeling her hips slap against your ass with the most brutal rhythm you’ve ever felt.
“I come whenever I want, sweet thing,” Kafka says nonchalantly, smacking a hand to your rear to keep you steady for her. “Your father will never catch me, he’ll never think to check his sweet little daughter’s room for a Stellaron Hunter…”
She delivers a particularly sharp thrust to your folds and you automatically collapse to your stomach. The fat tip of her cock pushing so deeply and making you moan with ecstasy. “Mmm, that’s a sound I love to hear,” Kafka chuckles, her deep and husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “You never disappoint, princess…”
You roll your eyes and grit your teeth, trying to get back up and prove her wrong. “Why did you even c-come here…it’s too dangerous, the whole ship is on lockdown.”  
“You think I’m afraid of a little risk, dear?” Kafka laughs, angling her hips so she could get you back down on your stomach. “You must not know me that well, then.”
You gasp when she grabs your hips and starts slamming back into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs. The thick, girthiness of her shaft proved too much for you to handle as you gripped your bedsheets to muffle your mouth from screaming. 
“Hmmm, that’s no good…” Kafka tuts, reaching a hand over to your scalp with tease. “I want to…hear you!” 
She suddenly yanks you up by the hair and you gasp from the sheer pain and pleasure you felt at that moment. “Oh! Kafka, fuck…!” You whimpered.
“There’s my girl…” she grins, licking her lips and having a grand ole time rutting into you. “Oh, I just wish I could see the look on your old man’s face when he finds out what I’m doing to you.”
She smirks at the thought and looks up at the ceiling with amusement. “To think his sworn enemy; me, was actually fucking his daughter in her bedroom this whole time…” she laughs and starts thrusting her cock even faster at the thought, getting turned on at the idea of ruining you. “What would your father think, dear?”
She looks down at you with a satisfied smile, knowing she’s got you right where she wants you. 
“Mmh…my father will…kill you on the spot…” you groan, your body instinctively moving on its own to meet the thrusts of Kafka’s hips. 
“Yeah, but you won’t let him, will you?” Kafka grins, leaning over to get a little closer to your ear. “You love me too much to do that. So much so that you’re getting drunk on my cock right now…”
Your cunt throbs at her words and you can’t help but whimper at the thought. You knew it was wrong to be sleeping with a Stellaron Hunter that your father so desperately wanted to arrest, but you couldn’t help it. She was just so charming and flirtatious, so much so that after just one meeting on your ship, she had you in your bed and completely stripped of your clothes. Ensuring the beginning of numerous one night stands with the Stellaron Hunter, as Kafka will oftentimes break into the ship just to sleep with you…
And yet, that’s what you thought this was, just another one night stand with Kafka like always. You didn’t think too much of it, but this time it seemed a little different. Kafka was more clingy, more possessive. It was prominent in the way she held you close, wrapping her arms around your torso and pressing sweet kisses to the back of your neck. She was more loving, less lustful. And you were starting to feel the side effects.
“You know, I can’t help but wonder how you feel about all this,” Kafka hums, hugging you from behind while moving her hips at a slower rhythm. “You give in to me so much easier now, perhaps…you’re starting to like me back?” 
You bit your lip and cursed at the fluttery feeling inside your chest. Somehow, you had fallen for the Hunter’s charms and ended up catching feelings throughout your sporadic one night stands. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but the heart wants what the heart wants and you couldn’t bear to say no. 
“…You’ve gone quiet now. Where was all that yap from earlier?” She whispers, tilting your chin up to look back at her. When you continued to stay silent, however; the thought dawned upon her and realization struck. Oh. You did fall for her. To the point where you were too embarrassed to admit your carnal desire for the woman.
“…I see.” Was all she said at your silence, slowly moving closer to hug you more affectionately. “Well, you don’t have to make that decision yet. I’m making it for you.”
“Wha— ah!” You gasped as she began slamming her shaft harder and deeper, guttural groans escaping Kafka’s throat, as she brought you closer to the brink of climax. “I’ve always fancied having you around, sweet girl.” She smirked, gripping her fingers around your breasts and squeezing whilst going to town. “So I figured, enough was enough. I want to have you as my companion.”
Her eyes softened at the way you tensed up in her hold, snaking an arm around your stomach before leaning in to kiss your shoulder.
“You’re probably worth about…what, five million credits? Ten million? Hundred million?” She chuckles as you grip her shaft with need, her movements slowing down as it was clear you were getting close to your high. “Either way, you’re worth more than anything in this galaxy right now.”
Your breath hitched as you tighten around her cock, feeling the ridges rub you closer to your orgasm while Kafka spoke sweet sentences in your ear.
“I’d love to add you to my bounty, rack up the numbers with you by my side,” she sighs at the idea and is left daydreaming about the reaction of your father when he finds out about this. You, his sweet, innocent daughter joining the Stellaron Hunters of all people? He would have a heart attack…
“So, what do you say, my dear?” Kafka hums, shoving her length as far as it could go before feeling you release all over her harness. “Care to join me on my bounty? You’d be worth quite a pretty penny…”
Your breathing was labored, and sweat coated your skin, yet you turned to face her with a knowing smile.
“Do I…hah…have a choice?”
Kafka laughs at your expression before moving down to kiss you. 
“Mm, sorry, you don’t.”
You smiled at that. 
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inoreuct · 9 months
Text
punkflower where hobie loves the morales family, loves how they’re becoming HIS family.
still, the first time jeff calls him “son”, he has such a visceral reaction.
he knows it’s coming from a good place and he knows he should be touched, but he’s only ever been called son in a condescending way. in a “know your place beneath me and stay in it” way. he feels so sick all of a sudden, nausea roiling in his gut, and his knee bangs against the underside of the table as he screeches his chair back and mutters a shaky “’scuse me”.
he hears rio’s concerned call of his name, sees the confusion and dread on jeff’s face right before he turns and leaves. he doesn’t stop until he’s up on the roof, ducking into the bottom of the water tower and collapsing into a corner.
stupid. it’s so stupid, and it pisses him off how tears are burning down his cheeks.
hobie scrubs them away with the back of his wrist even as he hears the door to the roof creak open, hears the familiar gait that he knows belongs to miles. he keeps his face turned away as his boyfriend appears in his line of sight, stepping gingerly like if he moved too fast hobie would break.
the punk sniffs angrily, the spikes on his cuff poking his cheek as he wipes his tears again. a hand brushes his against the ground as miles sits down beside him, close enough to touch but not quite.
he waits. for miles to say something, anything; to ask for an explanation, or offer words of comfort that will ultimately only make him feel worse.
in the end, it’s him that breaks the silence.
“i’m sorry,” he offers, and cringes. his voice is thick like rusted metal, scratchy in his throat. it’s scraping up against old wounds that never really healed, pulling at scabs to draw fresh blood, and it stings. “m’sorry, i just— he’s—” it feels damning to even say these words, but it’s the truth, and hobie’s never been a good liar.
doesn’t mean it’s not eating him alive, though.
“he’s still a cop, miles,” he chokes out, guilt winching around his lungs like a parasite, “and the last time a cop called me son—” hobie’s breath shudders out of his lungs as miles crawls into his space, ducking his head beneath hobie’s arm to press the punk’s face to his chest.
“i know,” miles murmurs, wrapping his fingers around hobie’s nape as hobie scrunches a desperate fist into the back of his shirt. “i know. i understand.”
hobie doesn’t think he really does, but that’s okay. if hobie has any say in it, miles will never have to go through what he did and understand what it’s like.
his voice is meek as he asks, “are they mad?”
“‘course not.” miles clicks his tongue, gently admonishing, like it’s a fact hobie should know by now; his fingers trace gentle circles into hobie’s skin. “just worried. hope you know my mama’s gonna feed you thrice the usual serving of tres leches when we get back.”
that gets a chuckle out of him at least, but the look on jeff’s face still haunts him, burned front and centre into his mind’s eye like an afterimage. “and your dad?” he feels miles go still, doesn’t resist as his boyfriend pulls back to look hobie in the eye. his voice is terribly gentle.
“he understands. it’s okay.”
hobie doesn’t think it’s okay. it doesn’t feel very okay. jeff had disliked him at first and reasonably so; he’s nothing like a person anyone would want their kid to be with.
and yet the captain had let him into their home, accepted him as miles’s person, given him a place at the table. of course rio would have sat him down and shoved food into his hands regardless, but still—
“hobie.”
miles calls his attention back, and he looks up into wide, dark eyes. his heart burns.
“he knows what you’ve been through. he knows how much you’ve grown.” miles huffs a soft laugh, rubbing his thumb against hobie’s hairline. “do you remember that time we went to your concert?”
hobie nods; he doesn’t think he can speak just yet.
“you were so nervous about what he would think, but he was stressing about looking like an old man in front of your friends. he literally said that as your boyfriend’s dad he had to out-hip all the other guys his age.”
something twists in hobie’s chest. “he’s the coolest old man i know.” he pauses, frowning. “maybe after peter b.”
miles laughs again, quietly. “he cares about you.”
hobie doesn’t doubt that. he’d let jeff and rio learn about him piece by piece, and with every sliver of information jeff had softened more; he might be the captain of the PDNY, but he was also a father.
hobie’s never really had a father.
not until he was asked about whether he preferred waffles or pancakes. until he was consulted for advice on what to wear to a pride parade. until jeff only looked at his blue laces with a tentative expression and he was hesitantly slipped a phone number to call if he ever got into trouble in this dimension that he couldn’t get himself out of, a helpline should he ever need it.
so he gets up, takes a deep breath and hauls miles to his feet. his boots clomp down the stairs; he takes care not to fling open the door and when he sees jeff and rio hovering in the living room, he holds out his arms.
rio reaches him first. she’s shorter but fierce, pulling hobie down to hug him tight, and he feels like crying again.
miles slips close to cling to his back, arms sliding around his waist, and hobie watches jeff meet his eyes with something almost anxious.
hobie’s lips twist in a smile. an i’m sorry and an it’s okay wrapped in one.
and maybe it really is okay, because when jeff comes around to squeeze them all together, hobie can’t help his relieved sigh as he thinks, this is what family’s supposed to feel like, certain as the next deep breath he takes and comforting like the broad hand that squeezes his shoulder.
fin.
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femoso-seben · 3 months
Text
Mini witch story part one
Part 1, Part 3,
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Rua walked over to the table last to arrive, her wolf familiar probably ran off to who knows where. She looked exhausted and behind her walking in shame was her familiar, Soap as she calls him. Apparently, when he was a pup he ate a bar of soap.
“You’re late,” Cordelia chimes in a teacup in her hand. As the oldest, she was the first to receive her demonic animal familiar, a big ol’ brown bear. For an old man, he sure can move fast when he is needed.
“I think you should put him through dog disciplinary training,” Sula said, this earned a growl from the wolf.
“Enough,” Rua sighs collapsing into her seat, “we are here for you,” she turns to me. You held onto my cup of milk.
As the youngest, physically, and mentally even though we all started at the same time. You were frozen in time and space. You look around, they are so much older, and time has taken ahold of them.
“Our Sire will give you a familiar,” Ophelia spoke up setting her cup of vodka down. “Then you can leave this Forrest and explore the world.”
“Why do I have to have a familiar?” You ask.
“In your absence, the mortals began a witch trial,” Rua spoke, “your familiar is there to keep you safe.”
“How?”
“In their humanoid form, they have their animal attributes.”
“Like eating Soap?” Your sisters broke out into waves of laughter and looked at the poor wolf who looked down at his feet.
“Do you have any animals in mind?” Cordelia asks.
“Fluffy. Likes to be around me. Strong. Friendly. Not so demanding… a cat.”
The forest grew cold as the trees warp around you all. Soon your Demonic sire who turned you all to witches walked from the trees. You get up and bow to him.
“Little one,” he begins, “I have your familiar.” You feel yourself blooming into a smile. From his hands, a black mass forms and falls to the ground.
Slime.
“WHAT IS THIS?” You shout poking the weird slimy creature. It lunged at you and gripped your leg. You let out the most horrific scream, and kick her leg throwing it off you. “WHY IS IT UGLY?”
From the back, you hear your sister cackling at you. The little slimy black thing slithers towards you. You look up at your Demon Sire who gives you a blank stare.
“Give me a cat!”
“He is very loyal.” Your sire says.
“HES UGLY AND SMALL!” You shout back picking it up with your staff.
“It’s an octopus,” Sula stated calmly. “A delicacy in Asia.”
“I DON’T WANT IT!” You look at your demonic father only to find him glaring at you. You stare at the little black blob, his Beaty blue eyes staring up at you. You think it’s glaring at you.
It moves closer climbing up your bare legs and to your chest. It sat right above your breast and two long appendages moved to your face. Your skin crawls and you feel the ICK coming. You grab it and punt it to the ground.
“ITS A PERV!” You scream and turn to your sisters for help. Rua turns away laughing to herself.
“You can always throw it away in a far-off land.” Ophelia offer.
“Don’t be foolish, our Familiars have an innate ability to find us,” Sula said.
Fear seeps into your skin. This creepy ugly perverted little thing was attached to you forever. You wanted to cry.
Your Sire and sister left you with these things.
It kept trying to climb up your leg.
You grab it by the head and look it over. An idea hit you.
“I can eat you!” You said a creepy smile crossing your face. Its little eyes and tentacles began to thrash around. You shove it into your bag and rush off to get some sauces and some vegetables.
How would you cook it? On a stove? In water? In bread? You shrug it had eight tentacles you had eight tries.
Your cauldron boiling, cutting board ready you grab the ugly thing and a knife ready to slice it up.
It transforms. In front of you is a huge tall man. You stare at his naked form. It glared at you, through a hood, holding your wrist.
“Let go!”
“NEIN!” He growls out his voice higher pitch than you would have guessed.
“Transform!”
“NEIN!” He said again.
“I am your master!”
“Du worst much night essen.” He snaps. He glared at him. You grab his hood and soon tentacles come out gripping your fingers. You screech and yank your hand away. He chuckles.
You wanted to strangle this man.
You finally agree not to eat him, and in return he lets you go. You also forced him into some clothes. You glared at him, and he watched you closely.
You grab your grimoire and put it into your bag. You are traveling, seeing the world! Staff in hand you walk out of the forest.
The sunset was absolutely stunning, the cliffside falls to crystal clear waters. The smell of freedom was intoxicating.
You feel the skin-crawling sensation of suction cups crawling up your legs you look down to see the disgusting thing crawling up your legs and to your boobs again. You grab it and shove it into your bag trapping it inside.
This bitch was ruining your moment. ------------
@milkywayhou full verson
taglist: @maylovesyousomuch, @trgraves-valx1f0r
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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months
Note
hellooo
are you accepting requests?
if so could you please write me one where reader is a journalist on the grid and basically everybody is flirting with her yk tryna bed her but shes only gonna let one of them do it
and shes like pretty assertive and dom, making the boys beg her to fuck them
you could pick who she fucks from lando, carlos or charles
sorry if this is too much i couldnt help it <33
Not really but I’m trying to do some while I finish the series I have on the go so I guess kind of??? My inbox is a gamble at the moment hahaha 💕
Say Please || LN4
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, sub!lando, dom!reader, edging, overstim. WC: 1.6k
F1 Masterlist
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Miami was really bringing the heat and every rising degree was only intensified by the black asphalt beneath your heels. You were in desperate need of shade as you wandered the pit lane to observe some of the teams but that would have to wait. There were people to interview and notes to write so you could have your editorial piece ready by the end of the weekend. 
“Oh, there she is!” 
Lando’s voice carried on the warm breeze and you tipped your head to the sound before turning in his direction. The driver was nearly tripping over himself and Carlos to reach you first, Charles following behind with an amused smile.
“Hi Lan,” you greeted the winner of the impromptu race as he skidded to a halt in front of you. “I didn’t see you when I made the rounds in McLaren.”
His smile turned to a disappointed frown at the news and he groaned. “Ah man, I missed you.”
“You haven’t come by Ferrari yet, have you?” Carlos asked, hope filling his face as he waited for your answer.
“Not yet.” His hand closed to a fist and he punched the air making you laugh. “I haven’t taken a break yet and I’m dying of thirst.”
Lando held up one finger to wait as he ran back to his garage and returned with a bottle of chilled water. “I can get you something else if you want…whatever you want.”
Carlos suddenly rushed off and came back with a plate of club sandwiches and, not to be outdone, Charles retrieved an umbrella to shield you from the sun. 
“My heroes,” you praised, giving them each a kiss on the cheek and enjoying the way their skin turned a rosy shade of pink.
Lando was the one who gave a giddy giggle and cupped his face as the blush spread down his neck. “You can have my driver's room if you want to get out of the sun. You’re so hot. I mean, you must be hot.” 
“Mine’s bigger,” Carlos said as he stood a little straighter and leaned his elbow on Lando’s shoulder. “Because size obviously matters.”
“Not to me,” you smirked. They three men watched as your fingers wrapped around the bottle, twisting the cap off before sealing your lips around the tip. The cool water was just what you needed to battle the heat and you moaned with satisfaction after swallowing it down. “Mmm, that’s better.”
“So, uh, what, um, what does matter to you?” Lando asked with a sheepish look on his face. 
You stepped towards the three of them and curled a finger until you were all huddled close in a tight circle. “You want to know what makes me hotter than this place?”
A round of eager nods bobbed around you and they leaned on even closer so you could feel their breaths on your face. 
Pushing your sunglasses up your head, you looked each of them in the eyes and smirked and one by one they broke away first and looked down. When their heads were almost bowed to you, you finally answered them. “Nothing gets me wet like seeing my little pet submitting to me, down on his knees, willing to do everything to please me, begging for my attention.”
Lando’s legs looked ready to collapse beneath him and you knew from the moment you met that he had such potential. He wanted to please, he wanted to serve and was always the first to race to be at your side like an excitable puppy. 
“Just one?” Carlos asked after a sharp intake of air refilled his frozen lungs. At your nod he peered at his friends with an edge that promised a strong competition. Charles narrowed his eyes in return, promising it wouldn’t be an easy competition, but Lando just looked down in defeat.
“What’s wrong?” you asked as you curled your finger beneath his chin to see his sad eyes. 
Those pretty blue eyes flicked to the Ferrari drivers before returning to his feet. “They have more experience than me. I don’t have a chance.” You started to retreat with a sigh, feeling bad for putting such pressure on the man, but he caught your hand. “Please,” he begged, “just give me a chance, please?”
The warmth that radiated your body had nothing to do with Miami and everything to do with the needy desperation in Lando’s voice. It sent your heart racing and smiled sweetly as you cupped his face and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Good boy,” you praised. “All you had to do was say please.”
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Lando’s eyes were screwed shut but it did nothing to stop the tears from leaking out as he bit his lip to hold back the whimper. 
“Good pet, just a little longer,” you soothed as you wiped away the salty streaks down his cheeks. “You’re doing so well.”
His dark lashes fluttered before they opened to show you a glimpse of the ocean, the waves shimmering in his tears. “Please, I can’t…I’m gonna cum…”
“Hold it,” you ordered as your hands returned to his weeping cock, the head red and swollen from edging him for so long. The vibrating ring was tight around his thick base and the veins that ran along his shaft grew bolder with each passing second. “You have such a pretty cock, my pet.”
His hands twisted against the restraints tied to the headboard, his wrists just as red as his face as he forced himself to refrain from spilling his seed over his lap. The taut skin over his balls pulled even tighter as you licked the delicate seam between them and you heard him moan as you felt his cock twitch in your hand. The sight of him laid out before you was incredibly beautiful but the whimper that fell from his lips was the pinnacle of perfection and for that you just had to reward him. 
“Go on, bub, you’ve been so good for me, you can come.” 
His entire body shuddered with the permission you gave him and his back arched off the bed as he erupted. There was no other way to describe his release as his cock pulsed and thick ropes of cum spattered across his stomach that rose and fell with quick pants. 
“Holy shit,” Lando moaned as he tried to regain his breath but you weren’t finished with him yet. Your thumbs milked every drop out of him, massaging him using his own cum to glide smoothly over his silken skin until he whimpered from the overstimulation. 
“I knew you would be the one,” you praised as you reached up to pull the slip knot on the ropes, releasing his arms that fell slack across the pillows. “You are the perfect little pet for me.”
You kissed his forehead before peppering them down his cheeks and finally reaching his lips that parted for you with a heady mewl. Combing your fingers through his damp curls, you pulled away and fluffed up his pillows to make him comfortable while he came down from the high he had endured. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
Lando nodded weakly, expended of all his energy, and you went to the bathroom to run a washcloth under the warm water. His deep hum of appreciation warmed your chest as you cleaned the mess from his hard abs before drying him off and dragging the blankets up the bed. 
“Roll over, sweetie,” you coaxed him softly until he turned on his side and you climbed into the bed behind him. His head nestled onto one arm as your other draped over waist and you held him tight until the soft tremors of his strained muscles began to ease. “How was that for you?”
Lando’s small giggle made you smile and you kissed the beauty spot on his shoulder blade while you waited for an answer. When a few seconds passed and he hadn’t spoken you shifted closer so you could see his dopey smile. 
“I need an answer, Lan,” you gently reminded him, “out loud.”
“It was…” he shook his head trying to clear the haze that clouded his thoughts so he could think of the word he was searching for. “Mind blowing. Overwhelming. Amazing.” He started to fall quiet and you watched as more feeling flitted across his face. “A little scary to start.”
You hid the frown that wanted to pinch your brow and kept the soft smile on your lips, not wanting to miss the opportunity to keep him open with his thoughts. “What can I do to make it better?”
“N-nothing,” he stammered. “I just didn’t know what to expect. It was one thing to talk about it but I guess I just…experiencing it was more. I liked it. I really liked it.”
“So you would do it again?” You didn’t even get all the words out before he was nodding eagerly and you chuckled as you pulled him tighter into your embrace, tutting when his hand started to run up your leg. “Get some rest first, bub. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”
“But I want to make you feel good too.”
“You did,” you murmured as you nuzzled the back of his neck until you saw the goosebumps spread across his skin. “I enjoyed everything we did, and I will enjoy more of you later when you have rested.”
“Do you promise?”
You chuckled at the needy tone and drew small circles with your fingertips around his navel. “You’ll soon learn, my little pet, all you have to do is say please.”
Tagging: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm @ohthemisssery
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spaceshipellie · 10 months
Text
fill you up
ellie williams x reader
summary: no plot just smut. ellie wishing she could cum inside you when using her strap
minors do not interact, 18+ content
cw: dom!ellie, use of strap, little bit of spitting and choking, slight degrading, praise, mentions of ellie wanting to cum inside reader, rough ellie turns to soft at the end
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your legs were on ellie’s shoulders as she was practically snapping you in half as she drilled into you with her strap. the sloppy wet sounds combined with your high pitched moans and her breathless curse words was pure fucking filth.
“fuck,” she groaned, loving how your face scrunched up as you struggled to keep your eyes open.
“fucking take it baby, look at me.”
you tried so hard to obey her demand but when your eyelids faltered she gripped your face between her fingers, squishing your cheeks to force you to look at her.
“i said look at me you pretty fucking slut.”
she was hitting it so deep it felt like the tip of the strap was going to hit your lungs. your legs were shaking and if it wasn’t for her holding them up, you’d be collapsing in a heap.
still holding your face she said “stick your tongue out” and you obviously did, letting her spit on it. as you swallowed, looking up at her with teary eyes, she brushed her thumb over your bottom lip muttering “so fucking pretty, baby.”
she then traced her hand down to your neck, lightly pinching either side. her pace didn’t let up and at this point you were seeing stars, the moon, the entire fucking galaxy. your moans became whiny and pathetic causing her to smirk and laugh to herself, knowing you were putty in her hands.
“you’re taking it so well for me, babe, god wish i could cum in you.” your face must have automatically given her such a pleading look because she carried on.
“wanna fill you up with cum and fuck it back into you.” the thought of it turned your insides to mush and you moaned out a little “please.”
“yeah? you want that?”
you let out another string of whiny “pleases” which made ellie feel fucking feral. she took her hand off your throat and leaned more of her weight down onto you so she could kiss you. it was messy and the slight adjustment in the angle of the strap made it hard to kiss her back but she didn’t care. she loved having you like this. a whiny, shaky mess just for her.
you couldn’t see it obviously but you could tell there would be a creamy white ring around the strap as it pounded in and out of you. your stomach tightened and your toes curled so hard it nearly gave you cramp. your hands gripped and scratched at her back as you tried to utter out that you were going to come.
“come with me, baby, let me fill you up,” she groaned. imagining her cum coating the walls inside you as she kept fucking you through your orgasm send you over the edge. your head fell forward, bumping into your leg and your hands held onto anything they could as you basically saw white.
as soon as she knew you’d come, she slowed her pace but didn’t stop, wanting to keep you feeling sensitive. you looked at her, your mouth agape, and she was looking at you like you were the most breathtaking thing she’d ever seen.
she let your legs come off her shoulders and relax a bit, still being spread wide apart though and she stopped moving the strap but kept it deep inside you. she brushed a sweaty piece of hair off of your forehead before kissing it.
“you are fucking amazing, you know that?”
all you could manage was a nod as your arms pulled her down into another kiss.
“you’re fucking amazing,” you breathed out against her lips. she peeled one of your arms off from around her so she could intertwine your hands next to your head as you continued the lazy, slow kisses.
“i’m gonna pull out now,” she mumbled and gave you a second before she slowly pulled the strap out, leaving you feeling empty. she took a moment to take the strap off and reach for a nearby towel to clean you up a bit. the brief absence of her body against yours made you let out a little sigh.
once the strap and towel were tossed to the side she was quick to snuggle back into you, laying between your legs, head buried in your neck and an arm wrapped underneath you. you hugged her close and kissed her temple, she let out a little hmm in approval. it was so comfortable and warm the way your bodies melted into one another that it didn’t take long for you both to fall asleep, completely fucked out.
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mellifluouaamor · 10 days
Note
Kissing Mashle boys before running hc?
MASH BURNEDEAD, FINN AMES, LANCE CROWN, DOT BARRETT, RAYNE AMES, ABEL WALKER, ABYSS RAZOR, WIRTH MADL, CARPACCIO LUO-YANG, ORTER MADL, KALDO GEHENNA (SEPARATE) ⍣ GENDER-NEUTRAL READER
synopsis. the boys' reactions to you kissing them and then running away.
author's note. that one panel where orter tells cell to bend over has never left my mind and i may have brought it over to these headcanons i'm (not) sorry. orter can bend me over anytime- AHEM ANYWAY LIVE LAUGH LOVE WIRTH HAHAHA
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you, running away from MASH? given his inhuman speed and reflexes, that'll be impossible. even if your action is as harmless as a kiss to his cheek, the first-year would reflexively grab your wrist and pull you flush against his chest before you can take a step away from him.
you'd be subjected under his signature blank stare for a few seconds as he tries to process what just happened, and when he finally registers the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek, he tilts his head to the side in an adorable manner.
"can you do that again?" he asks, surprising you. mash can't explain it - but he likes the warm and fuzzy feeling that would bloom inside his chest when you kiss his cheek. your kiss feels like... a bed of cream puffs. (don't question his analogy)
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oh, sweet summer child FINN. if you kiss him right on his freckles in front of his friends, he'd combust on the spot as a string of unintelligible words streams out of his mouth. a flush of embarrassment would rise to his cheeks and when he turns around to tell you off, you're already running away, leaving him to think of how he should get back at you.
he'd spend the entire afternoon attempting and failing to ambush you, with you giggling gleefully as you skip out of his reach. argh, why do you have to be so hard to catch?!
when supper rolls around, you sit next to a defeated looking finn with your tray of food. as you're eating, he points out that you've got some sauce around your mouth and before you can wipe it off, finn has already leaned over and licks the corner of your lips (with his cheeks burning). you drop your spoon in shock while dot gags loudly in the background.
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"oh," is all LANCE says when your lips land on the corner of his mouth. his fingertips brush against the spot you shyly kissed and when he turns to face you, you're already gone. figuring that the embarrassment must have gotten to you, he presses a loose fist against his lips as he chuckles softly.
the following hours would be lance contributing further to that embarrassment. he'd kiss your cheek when you're in the middle of a conversation with your friends, and he makes sure that you won't be able to pull away by gripping your jaw. the kiss would last longer than necessary, causing an awkward silence to fall on the group.
if you confront him about it, he'd simply squish your cheeks in his palm as he taunts you for being unable to do anything. try to talk back, and he'll silence you with his lips.
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DOT would short-circuit the second your lips make contact with his cheek, his face flushing as red as his hair. as you run away from him laughing, he'd hold his face like he just got slapped, gibberish spilling over his lips and unable to think straight. mash and finn would have to hold him up to stop him from collapsing.
once dot recomposes himself, he'd chase you in the hallways and it immediately becomes a game of tag... with him almost crashing into the walls as you deftly dodge his lunges.
when he finally catches you, there's no escaping from his onslaught of kisses as he wounds his arms around you tightly. your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your neck - he leaves no area untouched. when dot returns a favour, he returns it tenfold.
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RAYNE would turn his head the moment he registers the lack of space between your bodies - and that unexpected action causes his lips to meet yours in a kiss. you immediately pull away from him with a loud gasp, and the perpetual frown on his countenance prompts you to run for the hills.
touching his lips, he'd wonder why you ran away after boldly kissing him, unaware that you weren't supposed to do that and that you had only intended to ask him about homework. it wouldn't take long for him to chase you as if you're a little rabbit being preyed on by the wolf of adler dorm. (finn watches with a slack jaw as his older brother terrorises your poor soul)
the moment rayne catches up to you, he'd cage you against the nearest wall with his arms on either side of your cowering form. he's at a loss to know how to respond to your profuse apologies, only wanting you to kiss him properly after that accidental kiss earlier. he eventually manages to silence you by gingerly planting his lips on the tip of your nose.
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ABEL doesn't express much emotion in the first place, so it's no surprise that he didn't give much of a reaction to your kiss on his forehead. when you did it in the middle of his conversation with the magia lupus, he stops talking abruptly while the other members gawk at your boldness. with a quiet "teehee", you prance out of the room as he touches his forehead.
in class, in the hallway, in the cafeteria - abel would stare at you from afar like you've committed the highest degree of crimes. you think that you may have offended him by pulling what you did in front of the magia lupus, but that's not the case as you would come to find out later.
in the evening, abyss brings you to abel's room by the scruff of your shirt. you're wondering why the hell you got dragged out of bed, and it isn't until you noticed abel staring at you expectantly did you realise he wants you to give him a good night kiss like a mother would to her child.
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ABYSS, who had never received physical affection from anyone before in his entire life, would be so flustered that his mind becomes a jumbled mess. he doesn't even realise that you've already fled from the scene by the time he can think coherently again (and he's disappointed).
the kiss you gave him would linger on his mind for hours, and he'd throw subtle glances at you - specifically your lips. the warmth that spread from the spot you kissed on his forehead is... comforting, reassuring even, and he doesn't think he can continue his day without getting another one from you.
eventually, abyss would work up the courage to approach you. when he shyly tugs your sleeve with his gaze averted, you immediately understand what he wants and lean in to plant a sweet kiss over his evil eye, causing red to dust his cheeks. he'd hug you on impulse, wanting to be as close to you as possible.
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WIRTH doesn't appreciate having his study time interrupted, so if you try to break his concentration by kissing the side of his neck, he wouldn't give you the chance to run away by trapping your feet in mud. he'd then drag you over to sit on his lap, where you'll be forced to stay until he's done studying.
it doesn't matter if you're in the library or the common room, you'll just have to endure the embarrassment of being sandwiched between his body and the table. he doesn't even hide the fact that he's enjoying the way you're squirming uncomfortably on his lap - that's what you get for trying to distract him.
he'd pinch your side if your squirming starts to get annoying, and if you try to protest, he'd immediately shut you up with a kiss - with every contact between your lips lasting longer than the previous one. it eventually reaches the point where you're left breathless after his kisses, and he smirks at the debauched look he's able to paint on your countenance.
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CARPACCIO would stare at your fleeing figure with the same stiff expression he wears every day; he'd internally question why you would run off after kissing him when he has no intentions of harming you.
since he can't feel pain, your affectionate gestures are the only other external stimuli he can feel. he registers the pleasant feeling in his chest when you first kissed him, and has become addicted to the feeling since then. so really, he'd just accept your surprise kisses.
although he won't go after you when you run away, he'd actively seek you out and splay himself across your lap like a cat. when that happens, it's your cue to shower him with the kisses he has grown to like. this frequently happens since he tends to stay up all night for his research, and the warm feeling of your lips helps him fall asleep.
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ORTER won't admit it, but your kisses are capable of breaking his composure; so when your lips suddenly press against his jaw, he'd freeze up on the spot, giving you the opportunity to book it before he can catch you. once you're well out of his sight, he'd push his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the faintest hint of blush on his cheeks.
of course, no actions go without consequences - and you are no exception. to punish you for your little misdeed, orter would call your unsuspecting self into his office before bending you over his desk when you least expected it. he'd relish in your shocked expression and proceeds to intimidate you into submission, only stopping once he spots the teary beads in the corners of your eyes.
orter is not a cruel man. gently cupping your jaw, he presses a long kiss on your temple as a silent apology before letting you go.
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another one who you won't have a chance to run from. KALDO can tell when you're about to attack him with a kiss and would pretend to be oblivious until you make a move. the moment you lean into his face, he quickly turns his head and places a hand at the back of your head to push your lips against his.
you're helpless in his grasp as he wraps an arm around your waist to press you against his body. if you just had a sweet snack, he would deepen the kiss and literally devour your lips, wanting to taste what you ate. when he finally pulls away, he'll try to guess the name of the snack while playfully smiling at your embarrassed expression.
kaldo treats it like a little game. if he can catch you before you kiss him and he happens to have some honey on hand, he gets your honey-flavoured lips as a reward and you'll be in for a long night.
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fourmoony · 4 months
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hi! i just thought of this and i think it's sooooo cute. so imagine james and reader get married, the ceremony ends, everyone goes home and reader and james go home as well and they just order take out and eat in their wedding clothes with bunch of fluffy dialogue!! thanks!!
this is such a cute idea! thanks for requesting <3
james x f!reader | 1k words | masterlist
James is pressing buttons on the television remote, mumbling angrily to himself when it won't switch to the channel he wants. You smile over at him, heaving a breath, collecting the white tulle beneath you so you don't step on it.
"Gimme," You make grabby hands, ring glinting against the lamp light in the corner of the room. "You're too heavy handed with it."
James rolls his eyes playfully, but hands the remote over with a look so lovey and dopey, so sticky sweet that it halts the breath in your lungs for a moment. Never in your life did you think you'd end up being the girl lucky enough to marry such a handsome man, with a heart so big it consumes his entire being, who is so passionate and caring and hysterically funny. But here you are, ten minutes home from your beautiful reception at Potter Manor, married to your amazing, lovely, handsome husband, and your heart feels so full it could burst.
James is still dressed in his suit, buttonhole flower bent at the head and his hair messier than usual. His shirt is rumpled and his tie is half loosened, his glasses askew, but he has never looked more handsome. He lifts his left hand, runs it through his hair and the gold of his wedding band catches your eye. You smile, a secret little smile just for yourself, and change the channel. James switches to rummaging through the paper bag on the coffee table, pulling out boxes and bags of food.
"Did you order chips and cheese?" James asks, frowning into the tub in his hands.
"No." You hum, sitting in your previous place on the floor.
Your dress puffs out around you, a sea of white and tulle and James smiles over at you. It's a knowing smile, a smile that you've shared multiple of all day. The 'I'm so happy, I love you so much, this is the best day ever' kind of smile. James slides down from the couch to sit beside you, setting the mystery container of chips and cheese onto the coffee table.
"Well, they sent us some." He shrugs.
"Nice."
It's domestic and it's nice. It's better than the 'thank you for coming' and the 'oh, I'm over the moon, it turned out beautiful' conversations you've been having all day. It's chill and comfortable and it's just you and James in your tiny little cottage after a busy day filled with love and laughter and energy.
"Here." James passes you your container, a donner kebab.
You smile, "Thanks. Don't get me wrong, I loved the menu we picked. Seriously, best Balmoral chicken I've ever had. But I have been craving this all bloody day."
James nods in agreement, mouth too full of chicken pakora to say anything. He's leaning over his container to avoid spilling on his suit, but you don't have the same thought, biting into your kebab and gasping when the sauce spills out and onto the white fabric of your dress.
There's a moment of stunned silence between you and James where the TV show you both love drones on in the background and you just stare at each other. You assume James is waiting for you to have some sort of meltdown. Instead, you purse your lips, eyes alight with amusement and James cracks first.
You're both laughing so loud it overshadows the sound of the television, collapsing in on each other until you can't breathe.
"Oh, baby," James sighs, "Your dress."
He has the decency to sound deflated for you but you shake your head, smiling like the cat who got the cream. "It's okay, handsome. I already had the perfect day in my perfect dress."
"It was a pretty good day, huh?" James asks, returning to eating straight after.
You follow suit, leant over your container this time, "Yeah, it was. You know what beats it, though?"
James hums in acknowledgement.
"This. Right here."
James looks at you like you've lost your mind and you laugh.
"Today was perfect. I love you so much, and I couldn't wait to be your wife. I love our friends and our families, I loved celebrating with them. But my favourite moments always end with us back here. Me and you, sharing a kebab, watching shitty TV, and laughing until we can't breathe. That's what I couldn't wait to spend the rest of our lives doing." You tell him, eyes shining with emotion.
James sets his box on the coffee table, reaches out for you and you go because there will never be a time when James Potter calls and you, his wife, don't go.
"You looked beautiful today, you know?"
"I did?" You muse, settling into his lap, his arms warm and strong around you.
James presses his lips to your shoulder when he nods, sure and firm, "Yeah. But you look etheral right now."
"Covered in kebab sauce?" You ask.
James laugh, low and sweet and your stomach flutters, "Oh yeah."
"Hm," You hum, "You look pretty handsome."
"That's 'cause you're on my lap."
His eyes are big and brown and full of love and all you can think to do is kiss him. It's sweet and soft and it's all of your love for each other wrapped into one. He squeezes your waist, pulls you further into him and it all just feels perfect. You're so full of love you could burst.
"I love you, Mrs. Potter." He tells you, eyes so open and honest and it brings tears to your eyes.
"I love you, too, Mr. Potter."
It's sickeningly sweet and cringey and you wouldn't have it any other way. The guests have all gone, the wedding is over, you're home, with James, your husband, and you're married and you're happy and content and in love.
"Eat up before it gets cold." You urge James, handing him his pakora before reaching for your kebab.
You stay there, in his lap, curled in on each other, for hours. You'd stay there forever. And now, you can.
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