Tumgik
#*◞ ☆. ☾ ⤻ ( miles answers. )
aracniido · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
@legacyheld​
hey miles, can you see rain in the jungle? 🤔​
Tumblr media
     ❛ there is no rain in this jungle! do you see any water on my mask? on my suit!? what rain!? ❜  
3 notes · View notes
sapphiredhearts-a · 11 months
Text
looking for alaska tags .
0 notes
crxss01 · 11 months
Note
Request
I feel like Miles 42 would be a boob lover, like he would come cuddle me every other night. Him laying between my legs, head on my chest, hands squeezing my boobs like squish mallows..all night. They would be his comfort pillows. I have a ds ‘n I feel like they’re useless, still I’d let him put them to use.
Please write it<3
— Comfort Pillows
Tumblr media
pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ e-42!miles morales x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ miles loves using your boobs as stress balls and as pillows too.
warnings ✧˖ ° reader has boobs, squeezing + touching of boobs, cuddling, miles being a boobs guy.
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ bonito: handsome/or pretty boy, princesa: princess.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, sweet anon! i honestly had doubts about writing this but decided to because idek, but i hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
"bonito, really?" you shook your head in amusement as you felt his hands go under and up your shirt.
miles looked up from where he was laying on your chest and gave you a smirk, "you know i love my girls, have to show them some love."
you rolled your eyes at his stupidity, but let him touch your boobs through your bra. apparently that wasn't enough for miles because he sat up from his position between your legs. "up." he said.
"nuh huh." you said, burying your head further in the pillow, closing your eyes and spreading your arms and legs. "i'm so comfortable right now, i won't move. if i do that then the comfortable would go away."
"you and your weird ass." miles said, and you couldn't see his actions due to your eyes being closed. "come on, princesa. sit up for me so i can take off your bra."
“nope,” you answered again and made a move to get more comfortable when two big hands took hold of your waist and started pulling you up to a sitting position. your eyes flew open and you grabbed onto the covers of the bed, trying to stay down. “stop!” you yelled at him.
“don’t be dramatic, and stop yelling.” he told you. “my mom will think i’m killing you or some other bullshit.”
he won the tug war and had you sitting in front of him in no time, you crossed your arms, protecting your chest and pouting. “you’re not touching me now.” you huffed.
“bet.” miles arms came around your back, skillful fingers going under your top and undoing the hook of the bra. “now come on, mami. hands off my price.”
“bye, go away.”
he sighed, taking your arms and pulling while you resisted just to annoy him but he won anyway. “now…” he took the bra off without taking off your top since it was loose, it was easy to do.
miles pushed you back to laying down with his head on your chest and this time one hand under your top, gently massaging the soft ball like it was the world’s best stress ball. it didn’t matter to him if they were big or small, he loved the feeling of it in his hand.
“you know, i would love to suck on t—”
“you better not finish that sentence.” you warned.
Tumblr media
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
loki-cees-all · 1 month
Text
Keeping Score {TVA!Loki x Female Reader One-Shot}
Tumblr media
Cee's Loki Fic Masterlist / AO3 Link
Pairing : TVA!Loki x Female Reader
Summary : You’re stressed, you’re exhausted, you’re sick and tired of absolutely everything right now. Loki decides that the best way to distract you from all of that is to make you count how many times he makes you come. 
W/c : 2.2k words
Content / Warnings : Soft Dom!Loki, established relationship, smut, fingering. 
Author's Note : Welp. Since I’ve been just a massive ball of stress and nerves lately, I thought I’d write something about Loki’s lap to help calm me down. (Spoilers: It just made me riled up in a very different way. Oops!) Enjoy! <3
18+ Only - Minors DNI
Tumblr media
⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─ ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰
“How many times is that now, darling?” 
Loki’s question sounded like it came from dozens of miles away even though he’d murmured it directly against the shell of your ear. His words sloshed in your head as it lolled back against his broad shoulder, and your shaky breath caught in your throat. Sweat coated your brow, your heart thundered in your chest. Your muscles clenched uncontrollably, and your toes felt like they’d been curled into a permanent and formally unnatural position. Your thighs, spread wide and dangling over each armrest of his tufted wingback chair, trembled and shook helplessly. 
Behind you, Loki’s presence was even, firm, solid. You could feel the steady thrum of his heart against your back, his restrained breath ghosting against your neck in a constant rhythm. Despite the cool aura he normally projected, you knew he was just as excited as you were - from the way his thighs tensed underneath yours, to how his rock-hard cock throbbed against your bare ass from underneath his trousers. His voice was low and hoarse, but still measured, still somewhat under his control - but he was absolutely loving this little game. 
“Well, pet? Are you going to answer me or not?” 
A soft little moan was all you could manage to respond with. You desperately wanted to answer, but right now, you simply lacked the brainpower to give a coherent one. Divine and relentless pleasure still radiated up and down your spine with each featherlight stroke of his fingers against your soaked cunt; he hadn’t stopped touching you since the last one, and you felt like you were liquefying in his lap; maintaining a solid form in the presence of all this ecstasy was just too much effort. 
And that was exactly what you had asked for tonight, wasn’t it? 
Specifically, what you had said was that you didn’t want to be capable of thinking for a while. You wanted to be so very drunk and dumb, from both lust and pleasure, to be so thoroughly touched and explored that the stress of TVA case files and incident reports and the perpetual lies over your very own existence were nothing more than a distant memory. 
Due dates, timelines, the anxieties of life itself, and the horrors of the massive problems the TVA currently faced - you wanted it all to mean nothing to you anymore. Just for a moment, you wanted a tiny flicker of peace inside this wretched little cosmos, and your lover was the only one who could give that to you. 
Loki, of course, had then turned that request into a delightful little game: how many times could he make you come before you simply lost count of them all? 
After your quick and enthusiastic agreement to this evening’s activity, you soon found yourself seated comfortably in the God of Mischief’s lap. His nimble fingers had removed your clothing in a flash, leaving you bare and exposed while he remained in his normal TVA uniform - just the way you liked it. You absolutely loved being naked while he remained clothed; for some strange reason, it reminded you that no matter the problem, that no matter how dire the circumstances seemed, Loki still had everything under control - and that made your lack of it so very comforting. 
Once you were ready, he’d started off by cupping your breasts while he kissed your neck. Both thumbs brushed delicately against your quickly stiffening nipples, and you’d squirmed in his lap while your cunt clenched around nothing. Instinctively, you’d moved to squeeze your thighs together and give yourself some kind of pressure to roll against, but Loki had instantaneously put a stop to that. His large hand had gripped the inside of your thigh and separated it from the other, and you could feel his hungry eyes devouring the sight of your rapidly dripping sex from over your shoulder. 
From there, his other hand snaked its way down, over your ribs and down past your belly to graze your clit. He’d moved slowly, taking his time to thoroughly tease and stimulate the area, caressing gently back and forth with just the barest hint of pressure. On the next pass through, he pressed a little bit harder, collecting your ever-growing arousal and spreading it around with his fingertips. He’d let out a groan of appreciation, so deep and so feral, that it had made you come for the first time tonight. 
It wasn’t a big orgasm, but it was enough to stretch and loosen the muscles of your body, leaving you relaxed, comfortably warm and somewhat limp in his lap; a nice little warm-up climax, Loki had always called it. With a devilish grin, he’d calmed and soothed your mind until it passed, whispering sweet nothings and reassurances while you’d trembled. And once it was over, he’d repeat the process again, upping the ante with each cycle, pressing a little bit harder and moving a little bit faster, cranking the intensity of each subsequent climax higher and higher. 
He’d alternate increasing the speed of his fingers, their angle, and then their depth. The filth he’d whisper as he drew each orgasm out would become even dirtier, and the praise he’d murmured afterwards would somehow be way more celestial and glorious than it had any right to be. The ambrosian tones in his voice rolled in waves, from rough to demulcent, shifting in sync with the euphoric fireworks all bursting simultaneously inside your spine, and then simmering patiently together before the next spark set them off again. 
“Come on, love. Don’t tell me the game is over already…” As his lips grazed the cartilage of you ear, you let out a dazed whimper. The hand gripping your thigh slid up to your throat, and his fingers extended to tilt your chin towards him. He knew full well that the game wasn’t over yet, because your safe word was still tucked securely in its bed - and there was no way you were going to utter it now. 
The blurred angles of your beautiful God danced within your heady vision. Your eyelids fluttered open and closed, trying to will his features to become fixed again so you could admire him fully. Eventually his lopsided brow slowly came into view, arched perfectly over his deep green and wandering eyes. A roguish glint had etched itself deep inside his irises, and his lips were curled in a esurient but disciplined manner. He was gorgeous and stoic, sensual and vivacious, and he could easily do this all night if you had wanted him to. 
A heavy breath tumbled from your parted lips, and your answer was both murmured and dreamy. “No…no, it’s not over yet…”
“That’s good. That’s very good…” Loki hummed his approval, softly dragging his knuckles along your cheek. “But I’m still going to need a number, darling…how many times have you come undone on my fingers tonight?” 
He punctuated his question with a slight increase of pressure against your clit, and you shuddered in response. The backs of your thighs pulled against the leathered armrests of his chair as you shifted in his lap, and your fingers clenched tighter around the straps of his sword holster. Your hips writhed uncontrollably with the circular motions of his fingers, and you moaned out something incoherent, hoping that would suffice for the time being. 
“Such a silly little girl…” Loki teased with a chuckle. His fingers shifted tempo, adding speed along with the increased pressure. “We both know that was nonsense…” 
“Jesus Christ, I - ” Your gasp was cut off by another moan, and your lower half arched itself off from his lap to roll harder against his touch. Another orgasm was building quickly, and you craved it like the sea needed the sky. 
“Close, but that’s not quite my name, nor what I asked for…” Loki tsked. His words oozed elegance and charm, in direct contrast to the image of you spread wide in his chair, your slickened and swollen cunt still begging for even more stimulation somehow. 
“Oh, fuck - Loki!” you moaned as he changed tactics and slipped two fingers inside you. This time your eyes shot open to watch as he buried them, and then slowly drew them out. Arousal coated the digits, sparkling in the dim candlelight of your private quarters, and then he was calmly pushing them back in again. You clenched hard around his fingers and felt yourself growing even more impossibly wet as they curled and effortlessly reached all the right places to make the next orgasm that much more powerful. 
“Answer me, girl,” he groaned, becoming more breathless himself as you became more excited. He pressed his lips against your ear and buried his nose against your scalp. “Give me the number…”
“Six! Five! Seventeen!” you cried out, not caring if any of them were the right answer. Your heartbeat was out of control, your lungs were heaving for oxygen as gasoline filled your veins. Every bit of you was tightened, clenched, stiff and sticky. His fingers were relentless, pushing you to your absolute limits, and you wanted to exist in this blissful state for the rest of your life. 
“Oh, you’re such a dirty, filthy girl. You love this, don’t you?” He slipped another finger inside you. Three of them now stroked you from the inside, over and over again, while his thumb continued massaging your clit on the outside. “You love coming, you love being a mess, you love being so lecherous, don’t you?” 
Your eyes rolled back into your head as his other hand curled around your throat again. The words TVA no longer had any meaning to you. You forgot your own name, you forgot his name. There was nothing left inside your brain, and the pleasure was so intense that you couldn’t even remember why you’d wanted this in the first place. “Once! Twice! 87 times!” 
Loki laughed, and suddenly withdrew his fingers to delicately caress your clit with them instead. “Come now, pet. We both know those aren’t the right answers…” 
The lack of pressure was jarring, and your eyes widened in shock. You let out the most pathetic of whimpers, slamming your hand on top of his in a desperate plea for his previous pace to resume, but it was pointless. He wouldn’t acquiesce. 
“What if I don’t let you come again until you answer correctly, hmm? Would you like that?”
You whimpered again, squirming and shifting to get the pressure back. You turned, nuzzling your face against his without caring about how pathetic you looked. “Please? Please let me come again?” 
Loki groaned, and pulled you back down to sitting. Your full weight was back on his legs and hips, and his cock was somehow even harder than it had even been before. “Fine. I’ll give you a hint, love…Not once, not twice, not three times…” 
His breath was heady and hot against your lips. He was dying to make you come again, just as much as you were ready to explode. That was what separated him from everyone else, and just one of the things that had made you forever devoted to this God of Chaos. 
“Four…” you whispered correctly. “Four times…” 
As soon as the last syllable was uttered, Loki was crushing his lips against yours. His fingers slipped back inside you, and he kissed and fucked you until your fifth orgasm reached its precipice. A bolt of lightning shot up your spine, burning and convulsing every muscle you had as you came again, harder than any other time before. 
In your mind, the seas parted and the clouds disappeared. An aurora unleashed itself between the tendrils of your nerves, and your entire body thrashed in sheer and utter pleasure. Loki held you firm as you spasmed in his lap, wrapping one arm around your waist as his fingers pumped for a few more moments, then slowly withdrew to caress you so very gently in a soothing motion. 
You shivered and melted, moaning and whimpering against his lips as they moved to your cheek and then down to your neck. His heart thundered against your back, and his breath was as shaky as yours while you tried to recover. Your thighs were still shaking uncontrollably when he gently guided them off the armrests and pushed them closed. 
“I love you…” you murmured dizzily as he turned you to nestle back against his chest. He was so strong and comfortable and protective like this, and he smelled like stardust and the deepest, greenest forest. 
Could you actually remember what forests smelled like, or were you just dreaming that you could? It didn’t matter; they were all the same thing, after all. 
“I love you too…” Loki answered softly. His lips brushed against your temple, and his secure arms wrapped tightly around you. 
Loki - that was his name. That was the only thing in your head now. Deadlines and existential dread were nothing more than faint nightmares, long since forgotten. A thing of the past, a thing you’d just made up one night when your imagination got away from you. 
Loki was now the only thing that mattered, the only thing worth focusing on. And that was basically what you had asked for, wasn’t it?
⊱ ── ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅ ── ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ── ⊰
Click here to be added to my Loki fic tag list! 💚
433 notes · View notes
stevenssacrab · 3 months
Text
Do You Hate Me?
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚✧ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚*
Summary: Loki mistakes your nervousness around him for hatred, will Loki find out the reason behind apprehension, or how you really feel about him?
Rating: 17+ slight angst
Warnings: Mention of alcohol
Word Count: 1.4k
a/n: Apologies for going MIA, I got sick AGAIN but it was even worse the 2nd time around, feeling much better, hope y'all enjoy some Loki fluff
⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚✧ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚*
"I'm just putting in my earrings; I'll be right there!" you answer back, getting one last look in; your hair is pinned back with two strands framing the side of your face perfectly, the back flowing down a bit past your shoulder blades, with rhinestones weaved into the strands for that ethereal look, you're wearing an elegant a-line silhouette sage green dress with pink and green flowers embroidered through the expanse of the dress, it hangs off the shoulders with corset detailing in the torso, the sweetheart neckline showing off your collar bones beautifully, the puffy sleeves hiding your delicate arms, tea length, displaying your beige block heels perfectly, every detail of your outfit is elevating an overall polished chic aura you could feel radiating off you from miles away.
"You look perfect. Don't worry, let's move," Wanda calls out, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the elevator, "Isn't it kind of expected to be late to your own party?" you retorted, crossing your arms defiantly.
"Yes, but over an hour late is just rude. Didn't I raise you better?" Wanda responded calmly, fixing her hair in the elevator's mirrored wall, "Yeah, I know, I know," you replied, running your hands over the dress, smoothing out any wrinkles; you've been to tons of parties; that's not what's making you anxious, Thor promised you he'd bring Loki, or at least attempt to, just the thought of the tall, mysterious man makes your palms sweat, working as a biochemist under Bruce's watch was amazing, working with the brightest minds, on the edge of multiple scientific discoveries but for you what made it all worth it was the people you got to meet, you've met some of the world's bravest people, some avengers some not, after getting to know them, they're just like everyone else, they have their ups and downs, close friends, family, but one avenger captured your attention as soon as he walked into the room, it was hard to miss the standard Loki holds himself to, always remaining composed under stress, but he's charm, that's what's really got you in his grasps, he'd win over anyone with ease.
"We're here," Wanda said excitedly, patting your shoulder assuringly, "He'll be here, don't worry," you press your lips together into a thin line and step off the elevator; you suddenly feel a strong arm wrap around your shoulders.
"Hello, Lady Y/N," Thor slurs out, giving you a tight hug; you laugh; he's a couple of drinks in; you look around the room, but Thor cuts you off. "He's not here yet," he says sullenly, giving your shoulders a reassuring squeeze; "Come, Lady Natasha has been looking for you," he grabs your hand and pulls.
"You're here!" Natasha excitedly squeals, wrapping her arms tightly around you, "So, where is the lucky fellow?" she teases, gently nudging you with her elbow; she was the first person you told about your feelings for Loki, but she already knew before you even said anything, according to her you can't hide your emotions well, seems like everyone knows how you feel about Loki except for himself, you still don't know if it's for the better or not.
"He's not here yet," you say sadly, but quickly smile; it is your birthday after all; you're not going to let one person determine if you have a good time or not; with your mood having shifted, you motion the bartender over, "three vodka shots please," you asked politely, you've decided, Loki or not, it's going to be a good night.
You walk out of the bathroom, water bottle in hand, open it, and gulp it down, "Not drinking on your big day?" you hear that delectable English accent, and you already know who it is before you've even turned around.
"No, just taking a break," you laugh nervously, shifting your weight. Loki steps closer slowly; you watch him carefully with doe eyes; he grabs your wrist, gasping at the contact, he pulls you into a warm hug; you sigh contentedly and bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent, a delicious musk, Loki pulls away after what feels like only a second. Loki glides his hand down your arm, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps; he captures your hand and lightly kisses it. "Happy Birthday, Lady Y/N," he says smoothly; you giggle giddily, your cheeks heating up quickly.
"Thank you," you say shyly, gently pressing your cool hands to your warm cheeks, "have you been here long?" you ask, tucking the pieces of hair behind your ear, "No, I just got here,” he says coolly, still holding your hand, he gently runs his thumb across your knuckles, you’re trying your best to remain composed, but every fiber of your being is firing off right now.
“Are you alright, dear?” He brings his hand to your hot cheeks. “Y/N, you’re burning up; let’s step outside for a minute,” not waiting for your response, he whisked you away, not that you’d be able to respond; you were still processing how perfectly his hand fit in yours, to your relief you feel the cool air hit your warm face, you breathe a sigh of relief, you didn’t realize how much you needed this, Loki leads you away from the music and chattering, to a calm and quiet place, with a view of the city.
“This is much better,” he uttered; he turned to you, taking in your dress, how perfectly it fits you, the sage green complimenting your complexion magnificently, “you look beautiful,” he spoke just barely above a whisper, almost as if he didn’t want you to hear it, your heart skips a beat, this unfathomably gorgeous soul called you beautiful.
“Th-thank you,” you respond, eyes looking at the floor; you know if you meet his eyes, you may explode, “you know this has to be the longest conversation we’ve had; you always seem in a hurry to get away from me,” he admits, laughing nervously, playing with his fingers “did I do something wrong?” He asks, his hurt eyes searching yours for answers; you hadn’t even thought about how your behavior has been affecting him; you’ve been so worried he’d find out your feelings that you’ve cut every conversation short, kept your answer one-worded, all to protect yourself, to protect the scared little girl who’s afraid of rejection. Most of all, to protect your heart from the inevitable disappointment, your heart breaks a little; you had no intention to hurt Loki, to make him think you don’t like him, or worse, hate him.
“No, you didn’t do anything I-“You stop yourself before you can say it; you don’t know if you can go past this point.
“Then what is it? I keep racking my brain, wondering if I’ve done something to upset you or make you hate me, but nothing, please, just tell me why,” he said sorrowfully, inching closer to you.
“Loki, I don’t hate you, I just-“ you uttered, “I just don’t know how to act around you; you are so kind and compassionate, and I just didn’t want you to find out how I feel about you,” you babbled out, “ and I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but I couldn’t live with myself if you thought I hated you, and I understand if you don’t wanna talk to me anymore, I just needed to tell you because I-“ Loki cuts you off with a tender kiss, his hands caressing either side of your face, you melt into his touch, your lips moving in perfect rhythm with each other, you wrap your arms around his neck and bury your hands in his hair, playing with the long silk strands, you don’t want this moment to end, he sighs into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body, you pull away to breathe, Loki rests his head against yours, and you both stay there, listening to each others breathing, playing with each other's fingers.
“I could never hate you, Loki,” you confess; Loki chuckles lightly, interlocking your hands together, “you know I always wondered why you always seemed so nervous around me,” he smirks playfully, “shut up, I wasn’t that nervous,” you laughed, playfully smacking his arm, “no? I seem to recall you tripping over yourself in your hurry to get away from me," Loki snickered; you doubled forward in a fit of laughter.
"Okay, maybe I was a little bit nervous," you smiled broadly, "Maybe just a little," Loki teased, pulling you in front of him and hugging you from behind; you sighed and leaned against him, both of you swaying in the cool breeze, relishing in the feeling of bliss that buzzes throughout yours and Loki's body, it's been a pretty good birthday party.
277 notes · View notes
yok00k · 4 months
Text
coming down
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: non-idoloc! x idol!jk
genre: angst
“i always want you when i’m coming down”
sypnosis: although you sleep next to jungkook every single night, it feels like you’re million miles away from him.
wordcount: around 1,000
warning: in 1st pov, it’s a little sad (for me), open ended ending, one sided love, allusion of cheating, oc’s world revolves around jk (don’t be like her)(lowkey im her), toxic relationship, lack of communication
author’s note: this did not go as I initially planned help-_- i was gonna make light jealousy oc/jk drabble idk how I ended up with this. i hope yall sob w/ me or lmk ur thoughts
an absolute ideal.
his performance. the concept. the way he sang his new released songs flawlessly. how smooth his dancing movements were. how the stage composition and development were so sumptuous.
and most importantly, how romantic the live performance was, given the fact that there was an actress involved in the show.
calling Jungkook an amazing artist would be an understatement. He’s creative, unique, and original in his masterpieces. Everything he does, no matter what, is just mesmerizing and astounding. He’s indeed a true performer.
Jungkook dedicated several months to work on his solo album. The time and effort he had put to his work is just admirable. On most days, he stays up late, trying to come up with so many possible ideas and options he can add on his album.
and I was there by his side. I chose to be.
I was there, waiting for him to come home every single night, or usually midnight, in our noiseless living room, wrapped with a thick blanket and loneliness. He would arrive home, but as night by night goes, I was accompanied by nothing but solitude. it feels like it’s taking over me.
I was there, in bad days where Jungkook is focusing on the negatives and having doubts in himself. Days where his standards for himself weren’t being met. both of my shoulders were closely next to him if he needed something to lean into. Reminding him that it’s okay and he’s doing wonderful.
I was there, even in times when he didn't want or need me to be there. times where he just wanted to be by his own with no distraction. but here I am, continuously showing him my undying love and support for him.
I chose to stay there. on nights where he stopped saying “i love you” back before going to dreamland. I hugged him closer as I convinced myself to believe that he just didn’t feel like saying those three words at those moment because of all the stress he undergoes through day to day.
I gave all of myself, I’ve done my part as his other half. Just like how Jungkook produces his works, I poured all my love and time to him, leaving not a thing for myself. It sounds foolish, but that’s just how I love
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
we’re both lying on the massive bed, only inches apart from one another’s body yet it feels like he’s millions of miles away from me as I stare at his cold, broad back that’s facing me.
I’ve got to used to this upsetting scenario at this point but that doesn’t mean it hurt less.
The whole bedroom feels chilly. I’m freezing, solely due to the fact that his warm arms weren’t wrapped around me like they used to be. as i’m not hearing his snores, I know that he’s still awake
“Do you still love me?” I manage to ask out loud and clear, immediately regretting the words that came out of my mouth even though it’s simply an inquiry.
a question that’s been going around my head for quite some time now. a question that i’m afraid to know the answer to because his response might be the response my heart doesn’t wish to hear or else it will shatter into millions of pieces.
my hope for an answer rapidly decreased as seconds went by filled with silence. The absence of noise that surrounded me was deafening; abundantly mocked the emotions I was feeling at the moment, screaming at me that my feelings didn't matter.
It's alright.
I did nothing but wipe the single tear that uncontrollably rolled down my cheek.
it’s stupid. I should’ve just kept it to myself. maybe that would be less embarrassing. less problematic. less painful than I was feeling minutes ago.
I turned my back against his as I accepted my defeat. maybe I’m just tired. maybe drifting to sleep will make me feel okay although I know deep inside that I won’t take the pain away. this is not some type of feeling i’m unfamiliar with to begin with.
I shut my eyes, as I try to put myself to sleep. but in that process, i felt his body moving, turning around, and finally snakes his warm arms around me. a pair of arms, the same ones I longed for so many nights.
“____, why would you ask that?” he giggly asked, sounding like he just heard a silly question. as if i was just being clingy and wanted some piece of his attention.
‘because i don’t feel like you love me anymore’
the man waited for a response, waiting to see if I was just fooling around or that was really genuine. the noiselessness, just like all times, answers the question we both interrogate to each other.
the heavy feelings just got worse, if not heavier. even so when he talks more. “i won’t be laying next to you if i wasn’t.” as if that makes me feel better.
indeed, he’s physically here by my side yet distant. Jungkook is so far off that I’ve lost him. numbness was all I felt as I heard his words. I couldn’t be more content now that I have my answers.
his indirect answer to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question is enough for me to know where we stand.
I can’t help but to turn my body to face him, just to stare at his doe eyes that I easily get lost in due to the fact that they hold thousands of stars, if not a whole world in them.
regretfully, my eyes should’ve just maintained contact with doe-like eyelids. but rather, they drop their focus on the side of his neck, detecting a foreign lipstick shade that he might have forgotten to wipe off. a shade that will be tattooed in my brain and will forever hate.
Inhale. Exhale. I chose to shrug it off, bringing my attention back to his worn out face.
“I love you” truthfully and whole-heartedly confessed to him once more just like I always do. although this was a little bit different because I don’t expect him to say it back anymore.
and with that in mind, this was also the last night that I will to express my love for him.
336 notes · View notes
wosoluver · 25 days
Note
Hi!!! Just wanted to say I love your writing and I have a request for Obi if you would be so kind. It’s kind of dumb but I just saw the picture of her with Gondolf on my fyp. So the inspiration comes from that.
Little Family - Maybe Obi & R are close friends that act in a way around one another that makes anyone looking on think that maybe there’s something more. Anyway R gets a gift from a young fan which is a teddy bear after a match during the international break and carries it around camp with her like if it were her kid. Obviously being close “friends” obi joins in on this, much to the teasing of their teammates who are pointing out when are they going to get married or something along those lines. Let’s just say that a teddy bear is the reason two long time friends confess their feelings.
Little family
It's super short - Part 1
Lena Oberdorf x reader
Tumblr media
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Oh my goodness! Can I keep it?!" you asked the young girl in the stands. She nodded eagerly to you. "Thank you, so much! Is there anything else you want me to sign?" initially you had stopped by to sign her shirt and the flag she held on to, after the game against the Netherlands.
"Can you get Obi? So she can also sign it?" she asked excitedly.
"Yes of course! I'll go get her." you walked over to your friend that was doing nothing but talking to your teammates and pulled her by the hand.
"Where are we going?"
"A fan wants to meet you. Look what she gave me!" you said showing her the stuffed animal. "she's the cutest." and soon there was Lena, signing the young fan's shirt and offering a picture.
"Y/N! Come here for the family picture!"
and you came close to them once again, holding your bunny up as she took the selfie.
After getting done with the fans, you headed inside, arms looped around each others.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
You had grown quite attached to the bunny, that you had named Libby. So here you were walking into training the next week, with her in your arms.
"Do you go anywhere without it nowadays?" said Lea, your friend and teammate in both the national team and at Bayern.
"Why would I?"
"It's just a kids toy." she said.
And you jokingly let out an offended gasp. Covering Libby's ears.
"Don't listen to her baby!"
Lea only rolled her eyes, heading outside for training. You followed her, after placing the bunny sitting amongst your things.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
"Are you sure you and Lena are just friends?" asked Georgia curiously. In truth she wasn't the only one confused about it. You two were always together, would never see one, without the other. Even your team's that once separated you by miles, no longer did, after Lena making the move to Bayern.
"Yeah." you kept your answer short and simple as always, afraid to say too much and end up letting out more than you should. Like how much you actually loved her.
For Obi the lines had also been blurred, it had been for sometime now.
When you got out of the shower after training, you saw Lena sitting down, on her phone, holding onto Libby. While you were gone, the girls had teased and questioned her quite a lot.
Her only defense was to say she was taking care of it, on your behalf.
Which was true.
But she adored holding on to it, since she couldn't hold onto you, the same way. It was the next best thing and it smelled just like you.
You smiled ear to ear at the sight. See her going along with it, and actually caring for something you loved, despite others thinking it was kind of stupid.
Felt like you had put a little family together. Even though it was just a plushy bunny, instead of a child and she was just your bestfriend, instead of your wife.
──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──
This request was so cute! Thank you for sending in 🩷 Part 2 already out! It's a social media!au
Please send me more requests guys!
154 notes · View notes
therealdogsinmymind · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
✩ My Rival (All Mine) ✩
18+ MDNI
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
AO3 Link | Word Count: 2,394 | Chapters 1/1
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Synopsis: Sung Jinwoo pisses you off but maybe you've you've finally found a way to ruffle his feathers a little bit.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Pairing: Sung Jinwoo/Reader, Sung Jinwoo/You
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Tags: Reader POV, Gender Neutral Reader, Virgin Sung Jinwoo, Jealous Jinwoo, Rivals to Lovers, Bickering, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Tenderness, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Conflict Resolution, Happy Ending
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Picture from @oo0mika0oo ‘s icon edits
“You piss me off,” you say under your breath, fully intending for him to hear it. He always fucking does. 
You don’t like Jinwoo, you never have. Not before you awakened as an S-Rank hunter and you saw him on TV and certainly not now that you know him personally. He’s got shitty vibes and an even worse personality. He’s closed off, and you can smell his fucking god complex from a mile away. 
“Good to know,” Jinwoo says coolly, taking a sip of his water. You don’t know why he needs it, he hasn’t even broken a sweat, despite the fact that he’s been running circles around everyone in the training arena for hours. Just to show off, you suppose. He’s kicked almost everyone’s ass so far, sans for yours. You really don’t feel like going up against him though, you’d like your ass to remain un-kicked, thank you. There’s also some cards you’d rather keep close to your chest; but god you wish you could rub his face in the dirt just once. 
As Jinwoo lingers against the wall next to you, head turned just barely so you’re in his line of sight, you grow increasingly agitated. Why the fuck did he come over here? Why is he looking at you? What’s his deal? He’s always doing this, he’ll follow you around just to piss you off. You swear he started going to the only coffee shop you like just to torment you with his extremely pretty, extremely punchable face. As your irritation reaches max cap you decide it’d be better to just take a deep breath and walk away, you don’t need to get into a pissing contest with this guy, you’re better than that. You’ll be taking your leave now.
You spring up, intent on heading for the door when Jinwoo calls after you, ”You don’t want a round?” Yeah, no. 
You turn around briefly, still walking backwards towards the door. ”With you? No. I can think of better things to do with my time.” You take a little pleasure in the way Jinwoo looks slightly shocked at your rebuff. You turn around and pick up the pace, hoping to get the hell out of dodge. 
Suddenly Jinwoo’s in front of you, blocking the door, having somehow appeared out of the shadows. ”Fuck!” You startle, you didn’t know he could do that, is there anything he can’t do? 
“The better things, what are they?” Jinwoo asks, staring at you intently as if your face will reveal the answer.
”What?”
”What are the better things?” He repeats.
”I don’t know, dude? Get laid? Not that you would know anything about that.” It doesn’t even occur to you until his face twists, all sorts of emotions that you’ve never seen on him. They mar his usually such impassive features; he’s jealous. You said it as a joke, really more than anything wanting to call him a virgin, but this is too good.  You have to hold in a laugh, it’s almost unthinkable, you have an antagonistic relationship with him at best. It intrigues you though, you wonder if you could push his buttons like this, he’s usually so unconcerned with others.
When Jinwoo doesn’t reply right away you take that as your cue, needling him, “Anyway- I do actually want to get fucked sometime today, so if you’ll excuse me…” You have no such plans but you wave your hand at him dismissively anyway, just to be a bitch. 
His face stays twisted but he doesn’t otherwise react so you push harder. Leaning in close to him and speaking low so as to not be overheard, “Unless you want to see to that.” It’s just to throw him off his game, you just want to see him gape like a fish, or maybe sputter, curse you out, anything. You’ve thought about what Jinwoo might be like in bed before of course, who hasn’t, a simple curiosity if you will. That’s neither here nor there, you’re truly just aiming to rile him up at this point; surely any second now he’ll reel back and run away.
 Instead Jinwoo grabs your wrist and pulls you out of the training arena. All that comes out of your mouth is a grunt, too worried about making a scene. Although maybe you should, where the hell is he taking you and why? He says nothing, simply dragging you down the hallway until he seems to sense an empty room where he promptly tosses you in; and for all your agility and grace you still land right on your ass. Great.
He shuts the door behind him just as you’re springing up, ready for a fight. That’s the only reason you can think he dragged you out here, to kick your ass away from prying eyes, the room is kind of small though, maybe he’s just that overconfident. You decide you won’t let him throw the first punch but it’s too late, Jinwoo’s fast, faster than you. You’ve barely had any real combat training as a new hunter and he’s the real deal. He’s in your space before you can even blink and you’re sure he’s about to beat you to a pulp. However no pain comes, there’s only a horrible sense of too-quick motion and then you’re seated firmly, feeling a bit dizzy. It takes you all but a moment to realize you’re sitting on Jinwoo’s lap, he seems to have scooped you up and sat down on a couch; you must be in someone’s office. 
“I’ll be seeing to that now,” Jinwoo says in a low voice, giving a healthy pause before he moves at all, perhaps to let your brain catch up with his words. 
It sure tries its best, running at a million miles a minute. You think about the fact that you hate Jinwoo, he’s fucking annoying, he’s stupid as shit. Your mind screams at you that he’s too powerful, it's dangerous, you shouldn’t get close. He’s too confident even if he can back it up, it’s kind of hot. You ignore that last part, you don’t who said that. However you also have eyes, he’s really fucking good looking and maybe if Jinwoo wants to fuck you so bad you can make him work for it a little.
You slip out of his arms and off of his lap. You don’t even dream of laughing at the poorly concealed heartbroken look on his face; it’s actually kind of sad to see. You click your tongue before sliding back onto his lap but this time straddling him.
“Come now, don’t make that face, I'm just getting comfortable,” you coo at him, stroking your thumb across Jinwoo’s cheek, it’s oddly tender for what the two of you have. He just looked so sad. He leans into it and it makes you want to be nice to him again, disgustingly enough. You lean in and give Jinwoo a soft kiss on the tip of his nose, deciding to kiss him more when he sigh softly, happily. You’ve never heard him make that noise, it’s entirely new to you, you wonder what kinds of other new sounds you can drag from him. More kisses, one on each of his cheeks, and again on the corners of his lips, missing the true mark purposefully. Jinwoo audibly swallows and his arms wrap loosely and hesitantly around your back. It appears all of his earlier confidence has sapped right out of him. You wonder if you were right on the money when you said he doesn’t know anything about getting laid.
You press a kiss to his jaw and linger there. “Jinwoo,” you whisper softly against his skin and he shudders. That’s cute, but you must stay focused, you have to ask, “Have you done this before?”
Jinwoo stiffens, “Define…’this’...”
“Fuck someone, baby.” He whines a little at the pet name and you make mental note of that. “Have you ever fucked someone before? Been with anyone? Made out? Kissed? What are we working with here?” 
He clears his throat and turns his head away from you as his cheeks go red. You groan and drop your forehead onto his shoulder. You were just going to mess with him a little, kiss him a bit and leave him wanting more; but there’s no shot in hell you’re going to fuck up his first time. He deserves someone better than you for that, someone he actually likes. You have to ignore the way that thought stabs you in the heart so badly you can barely breathe. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” you say, your forehead still resting against his shoulder, “We can’t do this.” 
“Oh,” Jinwoo says, voice flat, devoid of any emotion, truly reminiscent of the closed-off man that you so often see. His hands fall away from your back and you wince at the way he shuts down. 
“Hey,” you pour as much emotion into your voice as possible, “I promise it’s not you.” You tuck your head into Jinwoo’s neck and squeeze him tightly. You wonder if he can still breathe like this, you feel like you can’t despite nothing restricting you. “When you find someone you like you’ll be glad we didn’t do this.” He says nothing so you pull back to take a hesitant look at his face. Jinwoo looks angrier than you’ve ever personally seen him. 
“Already did.”
He grabs you by the face with both hands and before you can figure out if you heard him right, Jinwoo crushes your lips together too hard and too fast. However once your lips are touching he hesitates for a second, unsure of what to do next. Well, apparently you heard him right, and his hasty kiss answers all of your follow up questions about what he said, go figure. 
You can’t just leave him hanging, so you kiss him back like your life depends on it. All in all it’s a crappy kiss. Your teeth clack together painfully, he can’t seem to find a rhythm with you, and you bump noses incessantly too. Despite all this you can’t fucking stop kissing him; you don’t think you could even if the world was ending. Jinwoo pulls back after a bit, gasping, apparently no one ever taught him how to breathe.
You grab Jinwoo by his hair, “Breathe through your nose, dipshit.” Using your hold on his hair you pull him back into another kiss, delighting in his shocked moan. This kiss is slightly better, he seems to be learning quickly. Jinwoo wraps his arms around you again and grasps at the back of your shirt, you worry if he pulls any harder he might tear it. That could be hot though, an idea for later. 
This time you pull back first and Jinwoo emits an uncharacteristically pathetic whine in response. “Shh.”
 You press kisses up his jaw, before sucking a mark directly below his ear. You’ve never known anyone to leave a scratch on Jinwoo, maybe you’ll be the first. The thought fuels something new and feral in you. You begin covering his throat in as many marks as you possibly can, something delightful burning inside of you when you see each new bruise forming. You want him covered, you want everyone to know that this stupid man, this dangerous, closed off man is yours. Nobody else is allowed to see Jinwoo a mess like this, this is for your eyes only. That’s all you’ve ever really wanted, isn’t it?
“Jinwoo…” you whisper, your breath fanning across the spit-slick marks you’ve just made on his throat. 
Jinwoo shudders beneath you, “Yeah?”
“We are not fucking in a stranger’s office.” Just on so many levels that is not happening.
He sags into the couch like a puppet that just had all of its strings cut. “I truly hate you sometimes…” he says with absolutely no malice, in fact it sounds kind of whiny and you have to hold in a giggle. 
“Until about ten minutes ago, I was under the impression that you hated me all the time.”
Jinwoo scoffs and runs his hand up your side gently, “I don’t hate you ever, you’re just really annoying.”
You rub a thumb over one of his blossoming bruises, admiring your hard work. “Awww thanks, you’re also a real fuckin’ peach.”
“I do try.”
You roll your eyes, patting him on the head now that you know he won’t kill you for doing that, “Come on, you can fuck me in my bed later. I’m dying to know if I can fit your dick in my throat.” The last bit is tacked on with a pointed wiggle of your hips, just so you can feel Jinwoo’s cock straining against his pants. God, he’s such a virgin, it’s painfully cute. You absolutely would give him a quick hand job here just to help him out but it’s so much funnier not to. 
Jinwoo’s hips twitch and he groans deeply, the sound reverberating in his chest, “Fuck you-” 
“Happy to help!” Being a hindrance is your favorite activity, especially when it’s Jinwoo you’re hindering. You can’t believe you’ve finally found his weak spot. 
“Yeah, I’m sure you are…”
“Aww, I’m sorry baby,” you say, voice thick with condescension, “I promise I’ll make it up to you later, just be patient.” You press a quick kiss to his lips before you slip off his lap. He sighs, folding over and dropping his head into his hands.
“You’re a nightmare…”
“Yeah but I think you might like that about me… Just a hunch.” You’re not actually sure if that’s true or not. You’re not sure of anything anymore. Really where the two of you stand now is a total mystery, but the soft laugh Jinwoo warms your chest, and that’s something isn’t it?
With a soft tone Jinwoo says, “Get out of here, menace.”
“Yeah, yeah… Hey- see you later?” Your words come out as a question, quiet and hopeful.
He sits up and looks at you, the corners of his lips quirked up. “See you later,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
Of course, you almost forgot, ever since you came here it’s been that way hasn’t it? Where you go he follows and vice versa, he’s your rival after all, what would you do without him?
313 notes · View notes
madamecaos · 2 months
Text
The Howling
AU Werewolf Mafia: F|Reader x AU Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
Synopsis: You move to a new town and the people there are just... strange.
Tumblr media
Warning: 18+ Mature in next chapters, Lil Gore, Mate-Trope, Alpha-Omega trope, Angst, Overall Violence and Dark Themes
A/N: This is me, avoiding my other WIPs so I can pantsy-through another story that I'm not sure how to plot. Well, I couldn’t decide between Werewolves or Mafia AU, so here’s both.
Tumblr media
It was known.
The first night of a full moon after Winter Solstice, every citizen of the little town had to bar their doors, stay inside and hope that sunrise received them unscathed. Otherwise, the victims of little Arcadea wouldn’t come to save you from the mauling beasts. Everyone knew you weren’t meant to go outside.
If only you had known that beasts also lurked in the daylight.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
You were new in town. The aftermath of a bad relationship and a great offer of a remote position gave you freedom enough to move to a new place. As long as you had Wi-Fi, you could work. When the opportunity arose in a niche little town, away from the city and surrounded by a sea of woodland, you took it. Anything to place miles and miles between you and your psychotic ex was a great offer.
A ride an hour away from the city was an improvement. Anything was.
But despite the cute little cafes and the upcoming Christmas festivities, the town didn’t receive you with open arms. The locals weren’t gracious to newcomers, so you did everything possible to not intrude.
That’s why you found yourself hiding in the little library, staking claim of your little corner with a watered-down coffee between your hands. It was lukewarm, but enough to stave away the chilling breeze coming from the open doors. Aside from the fact that this was the only place with decent Wi-Fi, it was comfortable and quiet.
Kate, the local librarian, could be heard chatting away as the truck backed up near the entrance. Tuesday meant that new books were coming in. And Tuesday meant that the delivery guy would burst your quiet bubble any second now.
You hadn’t been here a full month and you already felt like you knew too much about him.
Soap was chatty and had a smile too wide that didn’t match your grumpiness. And what kind of name was Soap?
Without looking up, you heard his footsteps. You imagined that he skipped your way, going by the obnoxious clatter of his keys and whatever else he had in his pockets.
Maybe you needed more caffeine to be nicer, you thought as your temples pulsed with an upcoming headache. It was something inexplicable, but whenever Soap came near your instincts went haywire. The urge to be defensive and argumentative rose within you like a second nature.
“New Lass,” he called you, almost cheering. You rolled your eyes at the nickname he donned you with as you refused to give him your name. It seemed that you acting wary of men made him think he had to try and get on your good side, the tough way, by being annoyingly too cheery. To add to your annoyance, your reactions only incited him more.
“Got ya’ more books. Want to see the new batch?” He asked too loudly with excitement, and you winced. “Oh, my bad. Inside voice.” He half-apologized, shrugging with a smile still plastered on his annoying features.
You were just… annoyed.
You took in his outfit. His usual black overall was replaced by dark jeans and a light jacket. Even his mohawk was not covered by the usual beanie, which prompted you to ask him something finally. “Going on a vacation?”
His clothing was not meant for the blistering cold outside.
“Wow,” Soap placed a hand over his heart dramatically. “Oh, New Lass. I thought you were mute.”
“Selective,” you answered shortly, then looked down to pretend to write an email. You hoped he took the hint but going by the lack of screeching chair at his usual loud departure, he was still sitting in front of you.
His shoulders shook in silent laughter, and you questioned him with merely a risen eyebrow. “You would get along with my boss. You two would be a party.”
At your frown, he explained, “Silent and grumpy.”
“Soap!” Someone called from the entrance, allowing you peace as he walked away with a wave. What an odd man.
“See ya, New Lass.” Without turning back, he answered just as gruffly to the person that had demanded his attention, an attitude he had never directed at you despite your unwelcoming brashness. You couldn’t hear the rest, them being too far away.
Peace and quiet drove away the turmoil that usually came along with Soap’s presence, but your temples still pulsed with a surging headache.
“20 years less and I would,” Kate sighed as she closed the door with a click, looking through the glass doors as the truck drove away. Finally, warmth permeated the library again.
“Would what?” You asked and Kate looked at you like you were dense. Well, you kind of were.
“I don’t go for the young ones, but maybe Soap can be an exception,” As realization dawned at what she implied, Kate held in her amusement behind her titivating grin.
“Aren’t you married?”
“Like that has to do anything with it,” Kate rolled her eyes playfully and you ignored the uncomfortable thought of loyalty being so casually dismissed. Again, another reaction you had to thank your ex.  “And you? No man back home that calls you lass?”
The wiggle in her eyebrows brought you a little out of your dark cloud. “No, no man for me.”
You went back to your screen, ignoring the understanding look from Kate.
“Ah, we all came to Arcadea to escape from something,” she said, salvaging what little conversation you had with her. You weren’t exactly social, and amongst the locals, she was the most welcoming one. But that all made sense when she mentioned she was a foreigner as well, married her husband and was brought to the little town where she founded her dream little bookshop.
That might explain the why and how the place stood afloat, seeing as you were the only customer you had seen inside. What you didn’t have a theory for was the mysterious merchandise of books she received weekly, and yet the contents of the library hadn’t changed once.
Soap looked nice and approachable, but the gruffness, tattoos and bulking arms convinced you that it was not smart to ask. The curling instinct you had adopted from the big city told you he was not merely a delivery boy. But it was none of your business, or so you repeated to yourself every time something odd happened in little Arcadea.
And it was a lot.
“You ok there, love?” Kate asked as you stared ahead, lost in thought.
“I think I’m clocking out early,” You stretched in your chair, closing the laptop. “This migraine calls for a long nap.”
“All right, hope you feel better!” Kate called out as you made your way to the exit. Until she left you with a parting advice.
“Oh, and y/n” She started, the lack of endearment calling for your attention. You turned, expecting the common cheery demeanor one can expect from Kate. Instead, the hardened glance made you freeze. The grim expression seamlessly bleeding away the woman you had been getting to know these past few weeks. This was a stranger standing in front of you. “Don’t go out tonight.”
Without any chance of asking for an explanation, the happy demeanor returned, and Kate left you gaping at the entrance as she hummed away to the back of the store.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
She surely had meant ‘go out’ as ‘hang out’, right? You weren’t exactly friendly with the locals yet, only a few.  Kate was paranoid and you were starving. And it was Tuesday. Nothing happened on Tuesdays.
After sleeping away the headache for what felt like days, you woke up parched and ready to eat a whole three course meal. The migraine had ceased enough for you to see without flinching at every little light, but you knew that if you didn’t eat soon, it would worsen. So still in pijamas, with fuzzy boots and a big hoodie to complete the look, you went out into the cold with your phone, cash and your keys.
The diner across the block closed late, at least late enough for you to eat. And if it fit the mood, you might aim for a milkshake, you thought as you headed into the center of the town.
As you walked, you hugged yourself to stave away the breeze weaving through the trees. The woodland was so close to the town you could hear the leaves moving, its hushing billowing out through the deserted streets.
The cold painted your breath in huffs, your distance to the diner decreasing. But as you kept your pace, you couldn’t help but recognize the unusual solace of the roads. They were devoid of life, vendors already settled down for the night. 
Your footsteps on gravel were the only sounds disrupting the silence, but even without any more sounds, the eerie feeling of someone staring at you made you walk faster.
Nothing could’ve told you someone was staring at you but your intuition, your paranoia getting the best of you. You snapped your head back, hoping that your fear was only induced by the darkness. The weathered headlamps were enough to let you confirm that you were wrong. No one was there, no shadows followed you. With nothing to show for, you kept walking, pace hurrying nonetheless.
The bell on the door charmed at your entrance. It was quiet, oddly so. You were often received by the boisterous waitress that covered the nightshift. She made the best lattes and made you laugh, getting you away from your shy nature.
All worn booths were empty as you sat in your preferred corner, read the menu that you’ve read a thousand times before, and looked around. It was odd that you hadn’t seen nor heard the waitress yet.
The restaurant looked empty, abandoned even. So with courage, you stood up and sat at the bar, ringing the bell for service. Right now, you would do anything for crumbs.
“Hi, dear,” the waitress whose name tag read as Darla, gave you a hurried smile. “I’m sorry, but we’re closing early today.”
“Please,” Yes, you resorted to begging. “I’m starving. Just the usual.”
“I-“ she stuttered. “The kitchen is already closed. The cook clocked out early.”
At the last word, the entrance bell chimed behind you, making you turn curiously. You felt the breeze, you heard the bell and you heard the door closing… but there was no one there. All tables were as empty when you arrived.
You turned back to face the waitress. The question in your lips stopped mid track at her expression. Her dark complexion had gone white, eyes wide eyed and petrified.
“Make the girl a plate.”
A low rumbling voice said from behind you, and you saw fear bleed into Darla’s expression.
You looked back immediately to your right, your gaze clashing with broad shoulders first, biceps bulging beneath a tight fitted black shirt. It seemed as if his height went on and on as your head tilted upwards, taking in the broadness of the looming man dressed as walking death.
Dark eyes beneath a skull mask perilously studied you. His stare unflinching, unmoving, as your heart made its way to your throat with fear… and something else. Something odd and uncanny made the hairs on the back of your neck rise. The sensation of someone chasing you confused you. You were sitting still, and he hadn’t made himself an obvious threat, despite the oddity of his mask in the middle of a local dinner.  Your mind spun at the lack of sense, your heart wildly beating, pinned beneath his stare. While petrified on the stool, your body slowly but surely felt heat rise, perspiration building along your temples as if you had already ran a mile.
That damned migraine came back tenfold, and you still sat there, looking up like a deer in headlights, eyes threatening to scrunch at the buzzing lights. If you were to look away first, he would take it as you submitting to whatever fear was taking ahold of you. You kept silent, holding in your gasps of air. 
What is this? Who was he?
Somehow, he had walked behind you so silently and so fast, you hadn’t seen him enter. He had crossed half the diner in seconds, landing at the opposite side of you. Something you wanted to believe was impossible, but here he was.
He was the first to break eye contact, allowing air into your lungs. All the odd warming sensations stopped at his departure. Without a glance back, he entered the kitchen then pivoted to the exit door, Darla moving away to give him a wide berth of space.
“New cook?” You joked timidly, trying to break the tension of the now fretting waitress. Metal spoons and pans clattered as she filled a foam container with whatever she could find. Her hands shook.
“Go,” Darla whispered with a pointed look, handing you a bag with whatever lukewarm food. At your hesitation to leave her alone, she pushed it to your chest, then motioned you to the door. 
“I can pay-“
Darla side stepped the counter, hands on your shoulders pivoting you to the exit.
“It’s on the house. Now, don’t do anything stupid and stay inside.”
With that, the door clicked hurriedly behind you, not allowing you to turn and ask the million questions you had for her.
You were at odds with yourself as you stared at your dark reflection on the glass door. 
On one hand, you wanted peace. It was the main reason you came to this town for, and asking the right or wrong questions often led you into more problems. But on the other hand, a huge man with a skull mask with an in-defensive woman didn’t bode well. And the panic in her eyes made you repeat the interaction over and over again. 
Darla shut off the lights as she went back to the kitchen, leaving you standing at the closed entrance of the now dark restaurant.
You debated if it was worth it calling the police, or if that fell under the list of what Darla deemed as something stupid.
Holding the bag to yourself as you walked back to your apartment in a hurry, you ignored Darla’s warnings. You’d rather bet on the ‘stupid’ but safe option and put in an anonymous tip. The receiver sounded bored, nonchalant even, not caring that a woman was alone in her job with a strange man. The interaction didn’t go as planned, especially when the person you spoke with treated you as if you were insane and not something to believe. The conversation turned oddly quiet when they asked you to describe the man, the mention of a ‘skull mask’ twisting their questions into more personal ones.
Who are you? What’s your name? What’s your place of residence?
 You hung up.
You did what you could, right? At least Darla’s danger won’t fully fall into your consciousness, you tried to convince yourself.
But the interaction interrupted whatever you thought of doing that night. You couldn’t concentrate. There was something off-putting that insisted that you had to go back there, but you were astute enough to know that it wasn’t a safe route. As an outlet, you called the restaurant several times, hoping that the internet’s spotty phone number was a true one. No answer. Maybe… just maybe if you saw if Darla was ok, you could rest. Then after assuring her safety, you would be relaxed enough to go back to your own business and hide in your apartment once again. After scarfing down the lukewarm food and pacing over the options, you did something else Darla had mentioned, something she had warned against.
With keys between your knuckles and pepper spray in your pocket, you went back outside. You just wanted to see that Darla wasn’t hurt. One glance and you were out.
This was the moment in horror movies when one would demean the main character for doing something so obviously stupid, you thought as you shivered with adrenaline and uncertainty.
The streets were just as empty as the restaurant, a full moon at its peak providing most light.  The pavement was so dark its reflection bathed the street in white.
As you neared, you slowed your pace and approached cautiously.  You shook the doors by the handles, but they were already locked. That much you already knew… but you’ve seen the odd man going out the other exit.
Cautiously, you tiptoed to the right corner and came around, peeking into the darkness to scope the back of the establishment. This is surely the way you’ll die, you thought with a tight grip of your keys as you rounded the wall. And at the turn, you clashed into something warm, so warm that the hands grasping you back to a wide chest could be felt through all your layers of clothing.
It was almost as if he had materialized from the shadows. Even with whatever minor moonlight shone through, it was not dark enough for you to be completely blind. You should’ve seen him coming.
You pushed the person back with all your strength, but they did nothing but chuckle, still too near for your comfort. At the sound and the familiarity of the creeping sensation crawling up your neck, you relaxed a little.
“Oh lass, I didn’t think it was like that,” Soap goaded, holding you close. “Only one word today and you’re already throwing yourself at me.”
“Get off me,” you shook your arms as you looked around him, behind him. At least, tried to, but he annoyingly planted himself in your line of sight, prohibiting you from searching for another sign of life.
“Hey, attention on me, yeah?” Soap stood closer, presence prompting you back to his attention.
“What are you doing here?” You questioned him, gaze still looking around you. “Where’s Darla?”
“Whose Darla?” Soap mused as he walked forward, forcing you to take steps back. “And I could ask the same.”
“I’m hungry,” you answered quickly, knowing that would be the first excuse you would use if the waitress asked for your intentions by disobeying her warning.
“Something told me you ate,” Soap said as he pointed with a look the red stain on your hoodie. He leaned closer and inhaled. You leaned back and ignored the odd gesture. “Pasta, to be exact.”
“Well, I’m still hungry.”
Seconds passed, and gloom dimmed his grin.
“Ah,” Soap sighed, disappointed. “So you’re the one that called the police.”
You froze, fear chilling the back of your neck. How did he know that? Nervous sweat and an accelerating heart with wide eyes took over you. Annoying Soap wasn’t acting like a child prying for your attention anymore. The seriousness and the slow tilt of his head made him seem as a complete stranger, much like Kate had been.
Had she known the danger of the delivery boy? Was she in on whatever was going on?  
“Oh? Did the police come by?” You asked, thinking that it would be best not to admit anything. “Why would they need to come here?”
Soap’s lips tilted, and not in the amusement you’d been accustomed to. At your struggle to swallow, his sight slowly landed on your throat. His gaze leisurely angled up to your eyes, moonlight catching oddly on his irises.
“Hm,” he took his index finger to his chin, musing into the air mockingly. “What to do with you now.”
He looked down on you, as if he was holding a secret you didn’t know. Deliberating… In a sudden flash, he was beside you, arm around your shoulders back pushing you forward. His proximity jolted you, your temples resurging the headache from earlier.
“Come, It’s time you to meet the boys,” He offered, not leaving you another option.
“What boys? I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m leaving now.” You tried to turn back, but the both of you had already walked to the back where you supposed the dumpsters were.
“This is not a good idea, so I’m leav-“ You tried to say again, but it was too late.
“Look what I found,” Soap said loudly. As you rounded the corner, you blinked at the dim light, the backlight providing enough for you to make out three silhouettes and… maybe a dog in the back? They all looked big, all broad as Soap, but Soap lacked what they had in height.  
The same man that had interrupted you earlier stood the furthest, his imposing shadow drawing perturbing darkness over the bricked wall, swallowing whatever light the moon provided. You could make out his form through the darkness. He was unfazed, unmoving, unlike his counterparts.
His untiring glare pinned you in place again, imposing itself in front of the prowling dusk-like silhouette bleeding away at the corner of your eye.
“What have you done?” One of the other men questioned with despair, genuinely worried at your presence petrified beside Soap. With a hand movement, the motion-sensor light activated, bathing the strangers with a harsh truth, immediately providing you with the information you were lacking. Now you understood Darla’s fear, its sight leaving you breathless.
The man in the skull mask was accompanied by other two, all just as bulky and threatening. The man perturbed at your presence was dressed in casual black just as Soap, the other one dressed in a police uniform. The golden badge caught in the light as the man stood taller, preparing for action, as if to chase you when you imminently ran away.
But your gaze couldn’t really focus on anything else except the dead body laying between them, all men surrounding the corpse. A pool of blood gushed from the cook’s torn neck, a chunk of it missing. You didn’t really know him… had known him.
He had been rude and standoffish, much like the rest of the citizens of the little town, but you really hadn’t seen any action that prompted for death, and a bloody one at that. But again, not knowing much about anyone had led you to this moment, prying for the safety of a stranger.
And now someone was dead, and you might be next. They all stared at you, at your rising panic.
“I didn’t think you would kill him so quickly,” Soap said nonchalantly, and your heart pounded itself into your throat, crawling upwards through your ribcage, preventing you from screaming. He voiced it so casually, as if this was his norm. “And besides, she’s the one that ratted us out.” 
You felt the burn of Soap’s gaze on your profile, his arm around your arm confining. Suffocating.
“Brave for someone so little.”
The one in the police uniform stepped forward slowly, stern look at odds with the amusement in his voice. He might have seemed the oldest with the light mutton chop-beard, or at least the leader, going by the respect in Soap’s expression. As he got nearer, you felt Soap stand straighter. If he was someone Soap respected, he was someone you were to fear. That much you knew.
Their accents were not much like your own.
Your eyes jumped frantically from the body to him, the Sheriff badge pinned to his uniform catching in the light again, giving away his job position. Even with the threat imminently approaching, you also watched around him. The other stranger and the skull mask staring back at you were not forgotten. Too many threats you had to watch out for, you thought as you searched for an exit, for a way to drive away the attention from you.
“Don’t touch me,” You furiously shook Soap’s arm, ducking away, the lack of warmth reminding you of how actually cold it was. Your hurried breaths came out in puffing mist, truly showing them how scared you were. The fingers tightly curled around your keys were wait, fully prepared to drive jam your only weapon into someone’s throat, even if it did nothing but distract. You were determined to die fighting.
As if knowing your intentions, your eyes returned to the man you had briefly met before at his amused huff, the black of his skull mask camouflaging with the darkness behind him. It was almost like you couldn’t help but stare back at death.
Despite being the one standing the farthest away, too still for him to seem preoccupied at your actions, you knew subconsciously he was the biggest threat of them all.
“Hm, pup has teeth,” the Sheriff mused as he frowned, annoyance in his face aimed at Soap.
“And the other one is a yapper,” the one with the skull camouflage retorted, comment aimed at Soap too, his voice again sounding like a grumble in your ears, as if was too low of a sound for you to register.
Instinctively you minutely winced, adrenaline making your pulse jump.
The Sherrif’s ever studying gaze caught the movement, frown turning menacing. “That seems like a problem.”
You waited for him to pounce, to cut your throat as they had done to the one that cooked the best burgers in town. Or at least, for him to command you to start digging your own grave.
Seconds went by and the breeze picked up momentarily. Only the lulling shush of the billowing leaves was heard. You shivered as it hit the back of your neck, flying some of your loose baby hairs to your cheeks.
You wanted to think you were delirious. No matter how subtle the rise of his shoulders, you could tell when he inhaled. As did the others, simultaneously.
The threatening nature of the leader flattened to a blank expression, but his eyes, unmoving from your features, were as intense as your ongoing rising panic. You understood immediate violence, already bracing for whatever they had planned from the moment you saw them. What you didn’t understand was the realization dawning on the other two at the back, nor the proud stance in Soap.
But the Sheriff raised his hands in a placating manner and took a few steps back, submissive, expression now beseeching you to not fear him. The shift in attitude had you gripping your keys between your knuckles harder, thinking it was another tactic to lower your inhibitions.
“Impossible,” the unmasked one at the back whispered, eyes wide in disbelief.
“She’s had a headache for days now,” Soap added the much unnecessary comment. You glared, realizing that he had been observing you too closely, Kate probably spying for him. She was the only one that knew about the headaches.
“Grumpier each time I come near,” Soap added, almost tenderly. At your glare, he grinned. “See?”
“What? Can you shut up?” You sneered, taking more steps back, them allowing it. Almost feeling violated at the fact that you never had any privacy, anger interlaced itself with your never-ending fear. Your shifting mood wouldn’t now stab Soap in fear, but in rage at his grating voice.
“Easy there.”
The one with the mask hummed at the bite in your tone. That rumbling sound again drove your gaze to his like a moth to flame. It was sorely a reminder of your precarious situation, a gravely dangerous one.
You have been here before, trapped with a man that wanted to hurt you, you thought. You thought you escaped from that, that Arcadea was your way out. But as Soap stood near, you realized it was lie, and you might never come back alive this time. Four men and one woman didn’t bode well for other reasons too; you weren’t a stranger to the sins against your flesh either.
“You should smell her,” Soap finally said, humming with pride, not understanding how unsettling it was for you to hear. The creepiness in the comment made you forget about your anger momentarily, your eyes catching the lifeless ones of the cook. Slowly, your gaze drifted upwards, until it landed on now luminescent eyes behind a mask, moonlight reflecting oddly. Even through it, you noticed the harsh frown aimed at you. It spelled danger, and that was enough for you to bolt.
“Soap!”
You pivoted and ran, but just as quickly, you stopped and skidded on pavement. The adrenaline didn’t allow you to feel the shock of you landing on your behind, your hands taking the brunt of the impact as you stared upwards wide-eyed.
There was nowhere to go, and there was no way you could run away from it.
A hulking figure bled from the shadows, rising at its hunches. Snarling teeth, each one the size of your forearm, salivated in a snarling smile. A wolf the size of a two-story house stood amidst the night, hiding the high full moon behind it, taking the sight of your exits with him.
A hand caught you by the back of the hoodie as you crawled back, pulling you up.
“Breathe, lass,” Soap instructed in what he thought was a comforting way, but his grasp along the sight of the nearing beast turned your stomach. “You’re ok.”
“No, Soap!”
Before he could heed his boss’s warnings, Soap’s hand grasped the back of your neck gently. It was the first time he made skin to skin contact, and what a mistake that was.
 Electricity cursed through you painfully and you screeched. It started from the top of your neck then down to your lower back, blinding agony crawling like a shiver down your spine. You fell to your knees, bone clacking with the floor loudly.
“You NEVER touch a dormant, much less her!” The Sheriff ran to your aid, hands hovering yet not daring to touch your shivering form. Something was strangling you from the back, your fingers clawing your throat and the nape of your neck where Soap touched you as you gasped for air.
The daring Sherriff finally grasped your wrists over your sweater, avoiding skin,  preventing you from hurting yourself.
“Breathe through it, love,” he encouraged, hiding away the panic in his voice.
Soap jumped away from you at your scream, looking at his hand blamed for assaulting you.
“What do we do?” The one that mentioned the odd impossibility of your existence also stood near, worried gaze aimed at your hunching form. “We’ve never met an Omega before.”
Perspiration seeped through your clothing, shivers racking all over your body. You now laid down completely, hugging your bruised knees to your chest in fetal position.
A sudden current of unexplained emotions surged through the odd sensations of your body. Almost like not knowing how to pick, your emotions jumped from blinding rage, and oh so suddenly, back to despair then again to happiness. Sobs of overwhelming consciousness were pulled from you against your will. Your hands were freed, allowing you to clutch your head.
“Make it stop,” you begged repetitively through your crying, migraine increasing by the second.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Soap repeated again and again, apologies increasing at your wails.
You covered your ears at his voice, clenching your eyes shut.
“Hush” the gruff man sporting the mask said from the back. “No Beta should speak now.”
They made way as he neared, steps carefully calculated.
Unlike Soap’s voice, the lower rumbling coming from the looming shadow didn’t feel like screeching. His voice almost lulled you from the up and coming anguish caving away in your chest.
“What’s happening to me?” You managed to choke out, your voice feeling like nails trying to crawl up your trachea.
“It will pass soon,” he said, dark eyes intensely focusing on your own. He didn’t kneel beside the others, standing away, hiding your sight from the pacing beast behind his back, almost sensing how uncomfortable it made you. Even through the neutral tone and mask, you noticed how agitated he was at your state. The why and the how of the reason you knew that was lost on you.
“Stop that, you’re making her nervous,” the Sheriff spoke at the beast’s growl, but with a huff, it followed instructions and laid down slowly, as if not to disturb you.
After one last upsurge of overwhelming emotions, it slowly lulled down to a passive wave that you had to fight through. It was almost as if it had drained you, physically and emotionally. You could only stare in a haze at the military boots kneeling beside you.
Minutes followed in silence, allowing you reprieve from your heightened senses as your tears didn’t cease.
“How are you feeling, pup?” The Sherriff asked lowly, scared of disturbing you from your sudden peace. You tried to breathe out an answer, but nothing came out. You laid down there, limp, and exhausted, and yet it was not enough to stave away the need for comfort.
This wasn’t you, but you couldn’t fight the honing focus of your sight. And through your breathing, a scent snapped you up into action, like a string pulling you forward. The men hovering over you leaned back as you raised your head slowly but desperately. It was a need for… you weren’t sure for what.
Without aiming to, your self-preservation was lost amidst the confusion, making you forget all these months where you forced yourself into isolation, away from people and their touch.
You looked around, as if searching for something. The men stared at you bewildered as it called to you, sounding like a faraway howl deafening your usual self. It moved you against your will, it’s rebounding echo merging into a chorus of ravenous animals demanding your presence. The image of snarling teeth right behind your neck snapped into your mind.
Without control of your movements, you clumsily rose to your hands and knees, palms scraping the pavement as you crawled forward. The men shielding you made way, confused at your desperate state. Your gaze roved around, until landing exactly on what you were instinctually searching for, on whom you were called to.
He wasn’t far away, standing close to the comrades kneeling beside you. As you neared slowly, you saw the eyes behind the mask minutely widen.
“Ghost?” the Sheriff asked slowly, given his frozen state at your crumbling form reaching for his ankles. It was almost as if you couldn’t wait to get to him, your hands not knowing if to push you forward or reach for him.
You finally got to the stoic man, grasping his pants by his ankles, pleading at his towering indifference. You pulled and pulled, and a whine was pulled from you when he didn’t move.
Finally, you dared to look up, eyes clashing with amber irises in an intensity that matched the onslaught of sensations you were forced to breathe through earlier. It wasn’t animosity that found you, but shock and confusion, and maybe awe. From your view from the floor, it was almost humbling that a man that size was just as confused as you.
Your eyes watered at the sight of his unmoving form, reaching closer and upwards with the intention to climb him.
“Simon.” Someone sternly called his name, snapping him from whatever had made him freeze in panic like a novice. He slowly but surely kneeled, your hands refusing to let go of his clothes. Just as desperately, when he reached your height, your arms tried to close around him, pressing your body to him in a tight hug, but his torso was too big for you to touch your fingertips at his back.
The cold of the pavement, along with the smell of blood, had left you shivering. Almost too cold to be natural, until a big, tattooed hand gently, tentatively, placed itself at the nape of your neck.
Your lashes fluttered at the warm sensation, shoulders sagging in releaf, allowing you to breathe normally.
The others looked up, surprised at the kind gesture given by their most ruthless killer, or so you assumed going by the blood you had seen stuck at the soles of his boots.
Without waiting for instructions, that hand traveled slowly down your arm then to your side as if not to spook you. Just as carefully, an arm locked itself behind your knees, bringing you to his chest. The screeching need of him to hold you lulled, allowing exhaustion to melt you against him.
“Ghost?” Soap whispered, looking over you with trepidation at the consequences of him using his voice. “What are you doing?”
Your head felt heavy, forehead resting in the space beneath his jaw and his neck. Even through the baclava you could smell him, musk and something akin to sandalwood easing you to rest. The warmth surrounding you might have emanated from the hard chest you were pressed against or the trunk for arms now holding you to him, you weren’t sure what made you feel suddenly so secure. The only thing you were sure about right now was how tired you felt.
The masked man that had terrified you in the beginning dignified Soap’s question with merely a grunt for an answer, his quiet steps lulling you to a deep sleep.  
From far away, the howling now didn’t sound so menacing, nor so loud, easing into your subconsciousness as if it were completely natural, for his warmth had quieted whatever unexplained horrors had taken over you.
A/N: Hoped you likes it! I'm open to suggestions on what should happen next 𓏗𓏗
194 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: miles morales x gn reader
Tumblr media
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: miles and his kaomojis are so cute (and he likes stealing your clothes)
ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ established relationship
Tumblr media
ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: idk why that miles pic is so funny; hold on, spot, I gotta tell my s/o I love them
☾⋆☆⋆☽
Miles stares down at his phone intensely, mulling over whether he should text you or not. You asked him to be your boyfriend recently, and of course he said yes, but he was still doubting himself. He wanted to see you, though, and his Spider-Man duties had taken him close to your apartment.
can i come over?
He bit his lip as he anticipated your answer.
ofc
yay (´∇ノ`*)ノ
ure so cute
Miles instinctively covered his flustered face, even if it was covered by his mask. Acting oblivious is cool, right?
【・ヘ・?】
the emoticons.
oh
my cute little bf <33
(⺣◡⺣)♡*
Holy shit. How creepy would it be if he arrived under five minutes?
☾⋆☆⋆☽
i had a lot of fun last night ヾ(^∇^)
i did too :)
by the way i'm missing a sweater
• • •
Oh no. He was so sure you wouldn't notice.
♪v('∇'*)✌
miles come back here rn
☾⋆☆⋆☽
milesss
milesssss
whatttt (キ▼⊿▼)ノ?
ure so cutee
and so cool
but i need that sweater back
凸(¬‿¬)
miles you child
☾⋆☆⋆☽
You took your sweater back the next time you saw him. That was fine, though; with how often he wore it, it was starting to lose its "yours" feeling. Still, he couldn't help but complain.
"It's cold."
"Is it?"
"Yes."
Simply, you respond by pulling him into a hug to share your body heat. "How does that feel?"
Normally that would be good enough, more than good, even, but he wanted to rub it in this time. "Good, but... it would be a lot better if I had your sweater."
You click your tongue and he only laughs in response. "I'll let you pick out a hoodie, then, next time."
If he wasn't in your embrace, he would be bouncing in his spot. Instead, he hugs you tighter. "Thank you."
If humans could speak symbols, Miles would've said ♥.
☾⋆☆⋆☽
I love this hoodie sm (●♡∀♡)
more than me?
yes.
miles...
┐_(ツ)_┌━☆゚.*・。゚
( ;`ヘ´)
( ˘ ³˘)
( ˘ ³˘)
875 notes · View notes
aracniido · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
(   「   RP MEME :  RANDOM DIALOGUE 2.0   」 | @arimused​​ / @astralrod​​ )
' you can't get rid of me that easily! ' ( wrong blog but / peter b parker) 🤍​
     ❛ sure we can! just give us a few more minutes! ❜    
     MILES WAS PARTICULARLY CAREFUL as he swung around the next building. may didn’t seem to have a problem with speed, but he still didn’t want to jostle her too much ( he’d just done a thorough clean of his suit & he wasn’t so keen to do it again so soon ). miles had been sure that swinging with a toddler would slow him down --- or, rather, he thought that following all of peter’s rules about swinging with a toddler would slow him down.
     BUT MAYDAY WAS RESILIENT. & demanding. the little kicks he got when he’d first started had spurred him faster, swinging at a speed she liked. it still wasn’t enough to lose peter in this game of theirs ( no web zipping was part of the rules after all ) but all three of them were having fun &, maybe, with some good timing, they could lose him long enough to claim victory.
     THERE WERE A FEW BUILDINGS NEARBY THAT COULD GIVE HIM SUCH AN ADVANTAGE. they were close together with surfaces that were highly reflective. a quick turn here & there, a shift to invisible for a few good seconds ( it wouldn’t work on may, but it might still be enough to confuse peter if he did it right) & use of the reflections might give them just enough time to throw his mentor off.
     ❛ alright, may, you ready!? ❜ 
Tumblr media
     ❛ okay, hang on! here we go! ❜
0 notes
azsazz · 9 months
Text
Friend or Foe
Eris x Azriel x Reader
Summary: I mixed these two anon requests together, and hopefully it went alright :) "I was just thinking about Azriel beging a mate with a mother of dragons (like in game of thrones) ot would be so powerful... like, sm" and "Request! A Eris x Archeron!yn fic. Imagine a prythian where the high lords are not good and friendly with each other and are now planning a war over one another to take down the court next to them and rule over. Now after a LOT of convincing Autum Court and Night court are forced in a alliance between each other because of yn. Now imagine if one of them sabotages the alliance! What will happen? Who will yn choose? Will she be able to choose between her sisters and mate?"
Warnings: None.
Word Count: 2,901
Notes: The beginning is kinda shit but I wanted to share anyway.
_________________________________________
You sigh softly, admiring your mate in his sleep. His unruly amber hair splays across the fluffy pillow beneath his head, and the strong smattering of freckles dot his cheeks like embers, glowing in the morning light.
He has one arm thrown across his eyes, blocking the warm sun that’s peeking in the windows. You’d forgotten to draw the curtains last night, after Eris had growled at the handmaidens to remove themselves from his chambers as he took you to the bed and ravaged you all night, not having seen you for moons now. 
He’d been so excited to see you, though he wouldn’t let Azriel catch him in that state, no matter if they were also connected by the bond. An unfortunate thing, that the alliance between the two courts was not stronger, and it sometimes felt as if you were the only reason the deal was made in the first place. 
As if sensing your gaze on him, he blinks awake sleepily, a smile gracing his gorgeous face when he catches you looking.
“Good morning, fawn.”
“Good morning, mate.”
His smile widens at that, and he rolls over, scooping you under his body as he cages you in. You squeal, accepting the warmth of his body and the plethora of kisses he presses to your skin. You’re enjoying each other’s happiness this morning.
“I want to show you something,” he says suddenly, drawing away from you. You puff a laugh, brushing his hair back from his eyes. He’s positively giddy, an emotion you don’t usually see on your mate, but you’re thankful for his mood this morning. 
“Okay,” you grin, “Where are we going?”
He presses a kiss to your mouth and pushes himself from bed, dragging you up with him. “I can’t tell you,” he answers, but he’s beaming, moving around the room like he’s just been named High Lord. “I only ask that you wear something you can walk in.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
What Eris shows you takes your breath away.
He takes you through the forest, so deep into the woods that you have to take horses, and after you tie them to a tree to wait, its still a few miles to get to where he wants. 
You enjoy it though, the serenity of the woodland around you, hand tucked in the warmth of your mates, and you don’t understand why Eris is stopping you in the middle of a clearing until he’s gesturing down to your feet.
You gasp, taking a step back at the sight of three large eggs, huddled together near the edge of the clearing.
“What is this?” You ask, in disbelief. They’re the largest eggs you’ve ever seen, and you don’t recognize the coloring one bit.
Eris leans down, his hands wrapping around your waist to pull you into his body. “Dragons.”
“Dragons?” you repeat, grasping onto his forearms. But dragons are a myth, creatures that have been extinct and unheard of for centuries, millenia even. “But how—”
“I don’t know,” your mate answers, squeezing you tight. “I found them when I missed you and was wandering deep in the forest. They can help us win the war.”
Yes, yes, they would be able to help win the war. You’re over the moon excited about your mates finding, even though the creatures might be too uncontrollable and young to be such a big part of this upcoming war.
“We have to tell Az, we have to—”
“We can’t.” 
You tear your gaze from the sight, furrowing your brows up at him.
“What do you mean we can’t tell Azriel?” you pull away. Your stomach twists into tight knots, and when Eris tries to reach out for you, you take a step back. His mouth firms and his hand drops to his side, sizzling in the quiet forest around you. “Eris, this could win the war.”
“I know,” he answers, voice harsh. He hadn’t shown you this to share it with your other mate, but to excite you instead, show you how much better off, how much safer you are in his court, with his smokehounds, with his dragons, and with him to protect you. None of those Illyrian swill, with their thin wings and long swords. They were hot headed creatures, more so than any autumn court general he’s seen, and he doesn’t think that Azriel can care for you as well as he can. He sure as hell knows that no one in the Night Court cares for you, they only pretend because you’re Azriel’s mate. 
“What are you saying then?” you ask, voice trembling. You curl your fingers into your thick skirts, suddenly hot under the Autumn sun. You don’t like the way your mate is speaking, like their alliance won’t be honored and instead, they’ll aim for their allies. “That you’ll attack the Night Court?”
Eris stays quiet and your throat aches with emotion. Tears spring to your eyes and you try to shove them away, try to keep your betrayal from leaking down the bond to either of your mates, but Azriel always keeps close tabs on you, and he feels the ache in his body as if it’s him who is feeling all of these conflicting emotions.
What’s going on? He sends to both you and Eris. He knows something is upsetting you, that you’re hurting, but he doesn’t know if Eris is the one doing it or has the situation under control, so he reaches out to the both of you for answers. Are you okay?
Eris flinches at the sound of the shadowsinger in his head. His fiery eyes are both a warning and disappointment. He had hoped to show you this to sway you on your stance in the war, to explain to you how they could never be allies with the Night Court and never would be. That you shouldn’t risk the chance of death to be by Azriel’s side in battle, but flying high in the skies with him, nearly untouchable to the soldiers below.
He shakes his head silently, pleading with you not to let the information slip. You’d be a traitor to your mate, your High Lord, to your court. 
You would be his enemy. 
Tears slip down your cheeks, hot and stinging as they roll down your red cheeks. You can’t do this, you can’t lie to your mate like this, even if he is from a rival court. But as far as the Night Court knows, they have an alliance—it’s why you’re free to spend time with both mates in their respective courts. But now…now you’re not quite sure what to think, where you stand in this war at all.
I’m alright, Az, you send back to him and Eris’ shoulders slump in relief.
You know that Azriel is only responding to you because Eris is stepping closer and reaching a hand out to comfort you, but you still can’t believe him, and you step back from his grasp, inching closer to the dragon eggs behind you. Then why are you so upset, my love?
Eris’ amber gaze flickers to the precious creatures behind you, and you’re quick to respond to your Night Court mate, I can’t talk now, Azriel, there’s something I need to do. I will reach out when I can, and I love you so much.
You realize that it sounds like a goodbye, but you shut that part of your mind away, pushing him from your thoughts to focus on your other mate, standing before you. 
“My fathers plans have not been flushed out yet, but I assume taking the territory of the Night Court is on the list of what he’s willing to accomplish by the end of this war,” Eris explains to you.
Your stomach bottoms out. You can’t believe he’s telling you this. You can’t believe he’s going along with this.
“Is it because of Azriel?” you ask, but it's no louder than a whisper as the thought takes root in your mind. Did Eris agree to infiltrate the Night Court to try and get rid of your other mate? So that he could be your only fate?
If he does accomplish something like that, you will never forgive him.
Eris’ gaze softens, as if he knows the direction of your thoughts. “No,” his voice is gentle, like that of a crisp orange leaf falling from the trees around you. The long grass rustles beneath your feet and the chill sends shivers down your spine. Eris reaches out again, trying to take your hand, to comfort his mate in need, but you’re having none of him right now, and it stings. “It’s because of my father.”
“So kill him,” you plead, desperately, and Eris flinches. Crows flee the clearing at your screams, and your desperation grows thickly in the sunlight space. “You can’t do this to them! To us!”
Your name is a sigh of frustration on his lips and it makes you still, heart pounding in your chest as your anger flares. Eris is distraught, you can see it in the purple rings beneath his eyes, the despair in his eyes, how he runs his fingers through his hair, pulling on it as if it holds all of the solutions to his problem. 
“Do you think I want this?” His voice is laced with smoke and the grass around his feet burst into flames. It makes you ache for him, but you don’t understand what’s going on, and Eris can’t seem to explain it to you. “The last thing I want is to take you from your other mate,” he gasps, but when you open your mouth to try and calm him down, to stop him from burning down the clearing around you, he continues. “I don’t care that he’s your mate too, I don’t care. I would never take him from you nor you from him.”
“Eris,” you try, “Then tell me what’s going on.”
He collapses to his knees as he tries to explain but the words are as tangled on his tongue as they are in his mind. He can’t get his head straight, he doesn’t know what to do, how to stop any of this. “I—”
He’s interrupted by the sound of cracking. It ricochets through the forest, through the grasses, and silences the both of you. You turn on your heel, staring down at the dragon eggs you’ve stepped so close to.
Eris whispers your name, calm and stern, “Come over here.”
But you don’t dare move, don’t dare to breathe as you watch the delicate shells of the eggs shatter, shifting with the movement of the creatures inside. 
A green head pokes its head through blinking a few times to get its bearings. The dragon is awfully cute, bits of shell and liquid covering its tiny head as it peeks around, getting its first glimpse of the world.
It caws and leans down to nudge at its siblings. One of the other eggs rustles but the other days motionless, not yet ready to wake and enter the world. 
You want to coo at the little thing, even though you know it's probably dangerous, but its bright eyes stare up at you when it realizes its siblings aren’t far from waking. It shuffles from its shell, stumbling over big paws, adorned with razor sharp claws. It squawks at you again, bounding through the tall grass towards you, and Eris whispers your name again, his hand gentle on your lower back as he tries to usher you away. 
He’s in disbelief. A part of him didn’t think that the eggs would hatch at all, that he wouldn’t have to give the creatures to his father, to use them in the war, but there are no thoughts in his head when the dragon approaches you.
Ignoring Eris’ pleas to back away, you crouch down to its level. The green creature blinks at you again, and behind it, a black tail pops out of another shell, its arrowhead shaped bottom whipping at the shell to crack it further, impatient from being stuck inside its own shell.
The green dragon makes an impatient noise, flames sparking at its mouth as your attention is occupied. “Okay, okay, little one,” you soothe, bringing your attention back to the creature intrigued by you. You reach a hand out and Eris draws in a sharp breath. He looks like he’s ready to drag you out of the clearing but he’s already hurt you enough, and he wants you to be happy. “Welcome to the world.” 
It sniffs your hand before nuzzling into you. Your face splits in a grin, and you reach out to pet along its scaly body. It’s unlike anything you’ve seen before, and you already know that when they’re fully grown, they will be the sway in any war, let alone what side you’re on. 
Its sibling saunters over, sniffing at Eris and turning its back on him with a growl. Eris deflates a little, but there’s still one more egg waiting to hatch, and maybe it will like him. 
The black dragon sniffs your hand, eyeing you curiously, cocking its head. Maybe it can smell Azriel on your skin. You were in the Night Court yesterday. The green dragon nips at the other, and you wonder what their genders are, the grass too long for you to see. 
But Eris can tell, somehow. He’s had experience, delivering his shadowhounds’ pups, and he tells you softly, “The green one is a male, and the black, a female.” 
“They’re beautiful,” you say, completely enthralled by the two dragons before you. The green one nuzzles into you again, before catching your hand in its jaws.
You gasp as its sharp yet soft teeth break your skin. Eris swears, planting his hands on your shoulders as if to rip you away from the creature, but you stop him, planting your free hand over his own. It doesn’t hurt that badly, and it's just a curious baby, you let the dragon be.
But he’s not biting you just because he doesn’t know any better. You’re the first fae he’s seen, and he likes the smell of you, the feeling of your intentions in the air. You’d been scared, and he’d felt it inside of his egg. He knew you needed help.
He’s claiming you. 
From the jaw of the dragon, green lines crawl up your arm like blood in your veins. They wrap around your forearm and you gasp at the intricacies it winds into, creating a weave of vines that stop at your elbow. It's a unique mark, you’re his as much as he is yours.
“I think he’s just imprinted on me,” you breathe as the dragon lets go and curls around your calves. The black dragon beats its tail against the ground, uninterested in what her brother is doing, and even less interested in Eris.
“What are you going to name him?” your mate asks, eyes shining pridefully at you. He’s a little hurt that the black dragon won’t give him the time of day, but there’s still hope for the last egg, which the female dragon saunters over to, nipping at the shell to rouse its last sibling.
“Zephyr,” you answer, and you don’t even have to think about it, you know that this name belongs to your dragon. He purrs in response, brushing against you.
His sibling breaks through the shell of the last dragon, waking the golden scaled creature from its slumber. It caws in annoyance, but the female is having none of it, snapping at him to get him moving from the shell. 
The beautiful gold dragon gleams in the sun, and Eris knows immediately that this dragon belongs to him.
Much like yourself, Eris steps forward, letting the last sibling sniff at him, biting him. He feels his flames reaching out the dragon, feels them intertwining with his own power and the creature looks up at him in wonder. The marking by the dragon is similar to yours, a weaving of thin lines glinting gold like its scales from his elbow to hand, looking like a metallic spiderweb. 
When the dragon releases him, he snaps his fingers and the three dragons make noises of shock as a flame appears in his fingers. They sniff and snap at it, but Eris is focused only on the dragon that’s claimed him, “You like that, don’t you, Rory?” 
The golden dragon makes a noise in response that Eris takes as a good sign.
“Eris?” you ask, patting the Zephyrs stomach. Your mate looks at you with excitement glowing in his eyes and you soften, wondering if this will turn the tides of the war, make him change his mind about attacking the Night Court.
“Yes, fawn?” he answers, but you’re looking at the last dragon. She’s settled into the grass a few feet away, watching you both with untrusting eyes, even if her brothers have claimed you both as theirs. She hides in the shadows of the trees, and her glowing blue eyes remind you so much of the mate you have in the Night Court, with a matching set of stones lining his leathers.
It would make sense. There’s three dragons and there’s three of you, you and both of your mates. You have to ask, excitement stirring in your stomach. 
“Do you think she belongs to Azriel?”
381 notes · View notes
jwonsoon · 9 months
Text
Enhypen when they see you crying at school ₊˚⊹♡
Tumblr media
☾ a/n: when i'm having a hard time i wish for these very specific scenarios, so i wrote them all down. ignore spelling errors and enjoy <3 pairings: enhypen x g/n reader
JAKE
he would immediately know just by your demeanor 
your sniffles, your head down with a serious face - he knows you too well 
“are you okay?” he would place his hand on yours and hold it tightly 
he would lift up your face with his hands and tilt his head in confusion like a puppy 😞 
when you try to walk away from him cus your embarrassed and don’t want people to see you he would grab your hand and drag you somewhere alone and keep saying “wait why why?” 
he would give the tightest hug but the type where he would put his hand on your head and run his fingers through your hair while saying “its okay its okay i got you” 
he would keep reassuring you about how it’s fine if he even has to miss class to stay with you 
he knows you're embarrassed so he keeps going “tsk stopp~ never be too scared to come to me, okay?” while rubbing your back 
JUNGWON
he can see your nose turning red and your eyes glistening from a mile away and he hates to see it happen :( 
he’d forrow his eyebrows in confusion while reaching to grab your hand 
if you get up to leave and go to the bathroom to get yourself together you’d walk out and he’d be waiting for you 
grabs your face with his hands and wipes your tears while saying “suddenly? what happened?” 
he keeps looking at you while caressing your cheeks with his thumbs :((((((
you don’t answer and he hugs you and says “its okay its okay. you don’t have to say anything, in here now” 
when he’s hugging you he would keep rubbing your back and tracing lines on it - whispering that its all going to be okay 
SUNGHOON
he wouldn’t notice it immediately but sensed something was wrong because you weren’t teasing him like you normally do
he keeps glancing at you and then when you make eye contact he looks away and then stares again when you divert your attention 
gets fidgety and is unsure of what to do
he would get his water bottle and hand it to you - “have some water, do you want my jacket?” 
he would hold your hand under the table and quietly whisper “don’t cry~” 
the whole day after that he would keep you in his line of sight, giving you little treats and giving you extra attention 
after the day ends he would go home and text you a long message about how he cares so much about you and apologize for being unsure of how to comfort you
JAY
you always wonder why you even try hiding your emotions from this man when he can read you like a book 
he ALWAYS knows 
serious pouty mode ON! 
he immediately asks you what happened making sure not to sound so panicky despite him being so worried 
when he sees that you’re crying more he goes “ohhhh no no” and kiss your forehead and then look right into your eyes while saying “its okay its okay you can cry” 
very aware of the fact that you might not want attention on you so he will pull you somewhere private to talk 
respectful of boundaries. “do you want a hug?” always asks first
the rest of the day he would not keep his eyes off of you. he’ll talk to you in the sweetest voice ever and be SO GENTLE 
NIKI
he would hear you sniffling with your head down and he would shift his head down to your level and look right at you 
he would blink his eyes in confusion and go “did i say something wrong?” 
he teases you a lot so he’s worried if he said something out of pocket 
you shake your head saying no and he would giggle and say “whew” 
but when he hears you crying more he quickly goes “why why why?” while reaching to side hug you 
he would squeeze your shoulders and go “its okay.. don’t cry please” 
he would try to keep making jokes to lighten the mood 
“who do i need to beat up?!” he would say and then chuckle 
HEESEUNG
doesn’t even ask questions he just hugs you 
rests his chin on your head because he’s taller than you and says “who hurt my baby?” 
would pull away look at your face chuckle slightly and say “you’re so cute, please don’t cry” 
would kiss your pouty lips and pull you into a hug again and say “im here just cry if you need” 
will stay with you the whole day if you need it but if you need personal space he’s very understanding and would just check in on you through text
will call you for 5 hours later that day to dissect and discuss the situation that lead to you crying 
will always end it with “but you’re so cute when you cry so it’s fine just come to me” 
SUNOO
see’s you crying and back hugs you
pouting and asking “what happened ~~” 
would grab tissues and wipe your tears for you 
would get teary eyed seeing you so sad 
gets you food and water to calm you down 
“do you want to talk about it?”
when you don’t respond he understands and knows you just want to be held. he would hug you for eternity if you wanted LOL 
will keep a close eye on you the whole day  and become very cutesy with you because he knows that cheers you up ^_^
261 notes · View notes
crxss01 · 11 months
Note
Okay, so if Miles (e!42) is a boob guy, and Miles (e!1610) is a ass guy, who likes thighs? 🤭
— My Boy
Tumblr media
pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader, 1610!miles morales x reader, hobie brown x reader
summary ⁺˚⋆。°✩₊ they just love using your thighs as stress balls and as pillows too.
warnings ✧˖ ° cuddling, squeezing + kissing + smacking of thighs, mature themes, cursing, reader has she/her pronouns.
m. list, main m. list.
translations ✧࿓☾ princesa: princess, quítate de arriba de ella, ahora mismo: move off of her, right now, querida: dear, buenas noches: good night, mi angelito: my little angel, bonito: handsome/or pretty boy, bebé: baby.
a/n . . ◟੭ hey, love! this had me thinking a lot and i loved writing this for you. hope you enjoy!
Tumblr media
now if you were asking between the two miles who is the thighs boy, the answer is both.
42!miles morales
miles was laying in bed his head on the pillow, one arm covering half of his face as he watched you walk around his room only wearing his shirt that reached barely pass your ass. his focus being on the movement of your thighs and wanting nothing more than to touch them at the moment, but you were doing your own thing.
“princesa, come back to bed.” he groaned.
“i can’t, miles. i don’t know why i do this to myself.” you complained. “always waiting last minute to finish shit.”
you had a school project due tomorrow and you had previously decided that you only wanted to spend time with your boyfriend all weekend so that’s what you did, but then your friend had texted you saying how much your final grade depended on that project so now here you were trying to get started on it.
“mami, i’ll let you use mine if you want.” he offered, and sat up. “i’m doing good in that class, way too good so that bald headed teacher can’t fail me for not doing his project.”
“you did it already?” you asked, turning around and looking at him surprised.
“yeah, on friday during free time.” he shrugged like it was nothing.
you slid your hand down your face. “why am i not as smart and organized as my boyfriend.”
“i’ll be smart enough for both of us.” he walked to you and picked you up, hands on your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him.
“thank you.” you kissed him and he gladly returned the kiss.
miles was squeezing you thighs, kneading the soft flesh like it was nothing more than dough and you hummed against his lips, loving the feeling. he ran his hand up and down then squeezed, repeating this process over and over again.
“i just love them.” he pulled away before connecting his lips to your neck, placing you on his bed, your head landing on his pillow and his hands never leaving your thighs.
“miles morales!”
he moved so fast, covering you with his blanket and looking at his mom as she stood at his bedroom door, hand on her hips.
“quítate de arriba de ella, ahora mismo!” tía morales yelled at her son, then calmed down when he did as she ordered, looking at your flustered expression with a smile. “i’m about to leave for my shift, querida. but don’t hesitate to call me if he tries something else. buenas noches!” she closed the door.
miles rolled his eyes and looked at you with a smirk.
“nope.” you shook your head. “you heard what she said.” you put on a serious face, trying hard not to laugh. “try something and i’ll call her.”
“whatever,” he took the off of you and opened your legs. “i’m going to sleep then, right in here.” he laid his head on your thigh and then put the other thigh on top his head.
“miles, this position is not comfortable.”
“for me it is,” he dismissed. “sleep well, mi angelito.”
“bonitoo, get off…” you groaned.
yeah, your thighs were going to be sore when you wake up tomorrow because there is no way to move him away from there.
1610!miles morales
“bonito!”
“bebé!” miles exclaimed when he caught you after you practically jumped on top of him.
“i missed you.” you told him, pulling up his spiderman mask just above his nose and leaving a peck on his lips.
“i was only gone for an hour.” he chuckled.
“i know.” you complained. “that’s too long.”
“i will take a shower and then make it up to you, is that okay?” he offered.
“only if you let me shower with you.” you gave him a cheeky grin.
you both laid down on his bed after taking a shower together that was full of water fights and gossip about criminal’s and people from your school, also a few kisses were shared here and there. miles even washed your legs for you, but you knew damn well he just wanted to touch your thighs.
now he was placing kisses on both of them as his head was on your lower abdomen.
“i wish i could just stay here forever.” he sighed, delivering another kiss to your right thigh.
“well you can’t.” you laughed. “i will get tired of keeping them up for you, bonito.”
“i can always have my webs hold them up for you.”
“what? no!” you laughed harder at that. “don’t say stuff like that, bonito.”
“i would do it though, bebé.” he smiled, placing a kiss to your left thigh. happy to make you laugh like that. “just say the word and i’ll do it.”
“it’s fine, bonito.” you shook your head with a smile. “i’ll keep them up for you.”
“thank you.” he gave a full teeth smile and pulled your thighs closer to his face until he was squeezed in between them.
you took a picture of him because he looked so adorable, adding it to your mi bonito <3 album.
now if you meant a character aside from this two then it is…
hobie brown
ever since hobie met you he had a tendency of just staring at your thighs and when you two became official he wouldn’t just stare at it, he would smack it as well.
you didn’t mind at all but at times like this, like right now that you two were in public and he had just gone for it and smacked your thigh from behind you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.
your head was buried in his arm after that, the fabric of his jacket rubbing your face as you two walked alongside each other. hobie had the audacity to do it again and chuckle when he had the reaction he wanted from you.
“sweetheart, it’s alright. they don’t give a fuck.” he nonchalantly said, pointing at everyone around you and showing how nobody was paying attention to you two.
“it doesn’t matter, stop.” you said, taking your face away from his arm. you weren’t serious even though you were embarrassed, you absolutely loved how much he liked your thighs. it made you feel a lot confident about them.
“should’ve thought about that before wearing that skirt.” he shrugged, then his arm moved away from your grip, coming down to your thigh and squeezing it.
“hobie!” you half-screamed, looking around to see if anybody was watching you.
“what is it, sweetheart?” he sounded so innocent.
this fucker.
“don’t do this in public.”
“okay. i’ll do much more in private, then.” he simply said.
your thigh was slapped then squeezed once again.
Tumblr media
taglist: @hoseokslefteyebrow @anikaluv
Tumblr media
ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!
Tumblr media
5K notes · View notes
gtgbabie0 · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
One of those days
{James comforts you when your social battery runs low}
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
You have been quiet all day, barely speaking no more than three words today and you just seem so distracted, miles away, you didn’t even answer the phone when Marlene called and now James was starting to worry.
“Baby?” He opens the bedroom door softly, noticing you curled up on the bed knees tucked towards your chest, you look over at him with a small smile, trying your best to muster up any kind of energy you have.
James walks over to the bed and takes a seat next to you on the bed, his hand goes to brush your hair away from your forehead, “What’s up hmm?” He asks softly, and you close your eyes when the back of his hand brushes against your warm cheek.
In all honesty, you don’t quite know exactly what’s wrong, you just feel so… bland and can’t find the energy to really do anything, talking to anyone just seems like such a chore, and it doesn’t help that there’s this voice that tirelessly shouts at you, telling you you’re being an awful friend by ignoring everyone, telling you that you’re being a horrible partner by sitting in the bedroom all day.
“I just feel so— meh,” you say, taking his hand from your face and holding it, it’s a silent plea for him to stay here with you, “I’m sorry lovely” you whisper bringing his hand to your mouth to press a gentle kiss against his knuckles.
He looks down at you with a small smile, “You don’t have to apologize lovely, you’ve done nothing wrong” he tells you, but James can tell from the unsure look in your eyes that you don’t believe him, and he knows exactly what you’re thinking.
"No, I do, I've been ignoring you all day, and Marlene" you whisper, tears building up in your eyes, "I don't even know why I feel like this, I'm just being ridiculous James, I'm sorry" you wipe your teary eyes.
His heart aches at the sight, “I don't mind lovely, I understand that you need some time alone, I promise” he says leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “And Marlene won’t be upset just because you had an off day” he wipes away the stray tears that fall from your eyes, his heart squeezing in his chest at the sadness that fills your eyes.
“Thank you” you whisper, a sudden guilt creeps up on you and you hate the fact he has to deal with this, with you, feeling like he has to carry your burden with him, the only thing you can do is apologize.
“Sweetheart, you’ve got nothing to apologize for” he promises you and you wonder what you’ve done to deserve such a lovely person in your life, “I’m here and I always will be, okay?” He tells you, kissing the tip of your nose, you let out a small breathy giggle, and you know you won’t win this argument, not with James’ stubbornness.
“Are you hungry?” He asks hand threading through your hair gently and you nod with a small smile.
“Yeah” you close your eyes once more basking in his loving warmth.
“Do you want to make lunch with me or should we order something? Your choice sweetheart” he says and you hum debating the options in your head.
“Let’s go cook something” you decided, sitting up and he happily nods taking your hand as you both walk into the kitchen, you already feel a little more replenished.
⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
1K notes · View notes
kitybur · 3 months
Text
𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 | 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐲 2
Tumblr media
⌦ in which you and tommy have just hopped into your car and hit the road to meet up with two minecraft streamers. the feeling of mixed nerves grow as they navigate through the post-apocalyptic world, all in the hopes of making it to the safe spot.
— warnings: swearing, gn!reader, zombies, murder, guns/knifes, mature themes, mention of drugs
| quackity apocalypse au part 2! |
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
you had been on the road for longer than you could remember. you hadn’t realized how far away this safe spot would be, and we’re already dreading on the long, twisting roads. you hadn’t seen anybody else on the roads, maybe a few people walking with their things out, which you ignored.
it had been nearly reaching two hours, and your foot was starting to hurt from pressing on the gas for so long. it was a miracle you hadn’t ran out of gas yet, but tommy had been prepared, stuffing a singular gas jug in the back. you had to give him props, he was handling this situation better then you were. and he was just a kid.
your eyes shifted from the straight road to the passenger seat, where tommy laid with his head lolled back and soft snores escaping his opened mouth. you gently smiled, reaching in the back to grab an old green blanket you’d left in your car months ago, covering him up ever so slightly.
you moved your eyes back to the road as a left turn came up, avoiding the red light that had just appeared on the traffic light. as you continued driving, you could faintly hear the sound of sirens. looking in the rear view mirror, the outline of a cop car came into sight, the red and blue flashing lights navigating the cement in the dark.
“are you fucking kidding me?” you mumbled. were you seriously getting pulled over right now? you lightly pressed on the accelerator, hoping, praying the cop just turned on the lights to be able to see better. it was only when they started pounding on the horn you knew it was for you. you cursed under your breath as you slowly started to move off to the side of the road, and put the car in park.
you were in the middle of nowhere by this point. there were no houses and no stores to be seen in a 15 mile radius. you forced your eyes everywhere you could, before jumping at the sound of glass knocking. it was so hard that the sound alone had woken tommy up.
you rolled down the window half way and when the male cop gave you a look, you rolled it down the rest. “good evening, officer.” you nodded. “can we help you?” you spared a look to tommy from the corner of your eyes. he groaned and sat up fully. the blanket falling off his shoulders and landing on his lap.
the officer looked between you and tommy. “you ran a red light. did you know that?” you cleared your throat, uncomfortable with the way he was inspecting the vehicle with his eyes.
“i’m sorry, sir. we’re trying to get somewhere safe before anything happens. I didn’t think I’d be a big deal right now…” you explained, pausing and cringing at the silence.
“officer, i’m sure it was a mis—”
“shut up!” he yelled, startling both you and tommy. you glared at the officer for yelling in such tone to tommy. “there is nothing going on, are you guys on something?” he took a step closer to the car, leaning down into the window. “i’m going to need you guys to step out of the vehicle.”
“but sir!” tommy yelled, obviously annoyed. he just wanted to leave and meet up with his friends. to get him and you safe, he couldn’t do that if this bitch officer was in the way.
“sir, step out of the vehicle, now!” by now he was angry, his cheeks turning red as his tone was sharp and evil. you and tommy shared a quick look, debating in your head if you should step out or not. of course the logical answer would be to step out, it was the law you were dealing with. but you knew better. in a world where it was life or death, you chose life.
“no.” you quickly said, shaking your head. “we will not get out.” you swear you could see steam come from his ears, blood come from his eyes by how appalled and angry he became.
“excuse me? you’ll get out of this damn car if I have to make you!” he wiped a bead of sweat off his head before reaching for the handle. it seemed to be in slow motion the way you watched him get pushed to the ground, screams filling the car.
it was only when you came back to your senses did you look what had happened. someone — or something — had tackled the officer down, pinning him under their body weight and taking a bite out of his thick neck. you held back your own scream to not make attention to yourself or tommy.
“y/n, we need to go. now!” tommy says, breath wavering as he continued to watch the grey monster eat at a living being. you nodded, tearing your wide eyes away from the blood that had now splatted on the side of your car, and the lowering screams of the officer. the growling of the now identified zombie only intensified with its feast.
you put the car in drive glancing around you momentarily before speeding off. tommy pushed his elbow into the seat to look out the back window. he eyed the zombie, watching how it turned its bloodied face to watch the car take off. it stood up, tilting its head as if to challenge the car, and followed.
you let out a breath with a tight grip to the steering wheel. you enjoyed the breeze the open window gave you, feeling the cold air on your face as you drove through the deserted town. it had been silent between you and tommy for mere minutes before he spoke up; “that was fucking awesome.”
silence.
“what!?” you pushed on the breaks, not hearing him quite correctly. he screeched, hands reaching out to stop himself from flying through the windshield. “what about that was awesome to you?”
he dryly chuckled. “that was the first zombie i’d ever seen that wasn’t in minecraft!” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help your own smile to come out. the moment lasted longer than you’d expected it too, because the moment you went to drive away, something grabbed you through the window.
you let out a scream, looking at the zombie in the dead eyes as it latched it’s brittle but strong hands against your sweater. you screamed has it tugged and spit blood at your face. you screamed as tommy worked quickly to roll up the window, cutting off the zombies arm leaving it attached to your sweater as you wasted no time leaving.
you thanked tommy mentally for taking the arm off of you and throwing it in the backseat (you weren’t thankful for that part, but it was tommy). you continued to drive with shaken hands at a high speed, desperate to get away from the nightmare you were experiencing.
you couldn’t wrap your mind around what really just happened. who else can say a zombie gripped their sweater and tried to pull them from the car? you can! you didn’t know how you haven’t driven off the road yet from how your mind was spinning, the smell of blood was rancid, and when you wiped it it smeared down your face more.
“that wasn’t as awesome.”
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
guys idk it’s a filler ig 😨 I wrote this at a daycare.
45 notes · View notes