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vampirzina · 4 months

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Hello! May I pretty please request mk1 characters with a reader who is really tired and it's having some complications on her like having a harder time breathing or being dead tired?

tw: gn pronouns, sfw, mdni, alphabetical order, short hcs, illness and sleep disorders, injury

notes: anon! i hope you and anyone who feels like this get well if this has anything to do with what’s going on offscreen. i also didn’t know if you wanted specific characters or not so i did the entire roster. also apologize if it’s a little ooc. take care x

masterlist : divider credit

Ashrah paused her path to redemption to check on you. She’d ask you when you first shown signs if you were okay, but when you brushed her off she had no choice but to leave it be. She’d simply help you when you’d fell sick, until she knew you’d be okay. She wouldn’t further herself until she knew you’d come with her.

Baraka already worried constantly about giving you his disease if you weren’t already infected. So to him, your health was the utmost importance and seeing you well was a sign that he didn’t harm you. When it was reported that you’d fallen ill from the lack of sleep, he would help you as often as possible but take his frustration out on some of the colony for not looking after you when he can’t. He’d even ask Mileena if there is anything she could do to help you, or advice, but he’d rely mostly on what he knew.

Bi Han would have noticed something was up when you didn’t sleep when it came time to. He might not care too much at first when he sees you’re still functioning but that changes entirely when one of his subordinates told him that you were rushed to the infirmary because you felt like you were suffocating. He will know what’s wrong with you whether you tell him or not, and until you rest, you’ll be bedridden. If he can’t bring you things you ask for himself, he’ll get others (or his brothers) to do it for you… Except for cuddles/intimacy.

General Shao begins to worry on the inside when you start to get sick, but he keeps he’s tough exterior. He’ll investigate your current habits if he hasn’t already, and go to the best doctors in all of Outworld for help. When he gets to the bottom of it, don’t try to deny it—he notes your dark under eye. He knows what it’s like to be sick and it is not fun at all. He scolds you for not taking care of yourself, even a little offended that you’d do such a thing while with him. However, he relies on the doctors who he sends on order to report to him. You don’t get to leave until he thinks you’re okay, regardless of what the doctors say.

Geras doesn’t need sleep, but that doesn’t mean he is unaware of the importance of it. When you stay up with him to bond over the hourglass and timelines, it’s fun… At first. But when you keep doing it day after day and night after night, he hints at your depleted energy as of late. You may brush it off, but he looks into what this could mean for you. Ideally, he stops it one way or another before it could get worse.

Havik thinks it a major nuisance, and it mostly wouldn’t stop him in his endeavors. He doesn’t care for how you look. When you begin to have physical complications from your exhaustion, he lets it only so far thinking you’ve got it before he himself stops it. While he bounds you to the bed until you sleep, he’s out doing what he normally does best. He comes straight back to you, though, but don’t mention it at all to him. He doesn’t want something so tame like that exposed.

Johnny Cage would innocently comment on how you look the moment it started to show. It would start an argument from how agitated you’ve been lately, sure, but he says it’s out of concern (and love) for you. He gives you just about anything that could help you sleep. If you get ill from not being able to, he makes you see a doctor. Either that, or he “has some ideas that could tire you out”. You roll tired eyes, whatever that means.

Kenshi would also note your sullen look if he sees it [through sento], but much more cordially and obviously a lot more genuinely concerned. He doesn’t mind if he should stay home and cuddle to sleep at all, and it makes him a little sad when you turn him down. When you eventually get sick from your habits, he argues with you briefly as soon as you’re sentient again, but becomes your ultimate schedule reminder. You scared him half to death.

Kitana pulled you aside, even going as far as to get you excused you from your duties for a moment so that you could get some rest. When you fall ill from it she wants updates on your health even if you’re stagnant. She offers you certain herbal remedies to encourage sleep, and gets you a spa day so that you could look a little bit better than what you did before (and hopefully encourage you to sleep). News of your troubles don’t leave where you stay, and she’s discreet about it so you do not get embarrassed amongst your peers. Rumors are dispelled with the quickness.

Kuai Liang worries about you first, gets information second, and then makes a solution last. He listens to you talk about your problems sleeping when you eventually fall ill from the lack. He feels somewhat guilty for not checking on you as you are in his arms every night, but he feels that brainstorming with you and those who are experienced in health a plan that would help you recover is the best apology even though you remind him it’s not his fault. You’ll be required to rest, and he’ll make sure you do before he ever gets any sleep at all.

Kung Lao notices first and foremost when you start to deny rigorous activity with him. It’s only then does he realize how exhausted you look, and for once he gets serious and somewhat selfless. He fights off any of the ill feelings with medicine, all while getting you to do things not too strenuous on your body so that it gets you tired enough to sleep (even if it was just for a minute). He spends as much time needed until it goes away entirely, because he’s relentless like that and not the type to give up or leave you to it. And sometimes, when he’s trying to get you to sleep, he accidentally makes himself fall asleep.

Liu Kang already knows before it gets too late to find out, so it’s no use hiding it from him. He personally clears your schedule somehow, and if you want to work, you can’t. He’s upset with you because of how he found out you haven’t been sleeping, not because you haven’t been sleeping. He makes you prove that you are able-bodied enough to start moving around again when you insist that you can; he begins to check for you at night, having fixed a sleep schedule for you to follow. He complies if you need help sleeping again, and only leaves to return to the hourglass once you’re fast asleep.

Li Mei is the utmost level about it. After you get sick by it, she’s perfectly rehearsed and practiced, but doesn’t enjoy when others franticness starts to impede on her moves. Eventually, your comfort lie solely in her and her quarters instead of some royal infirmary or hospital. She accommodates for you, and covers for you if there are others checking for you elsewhere. She knows a thing or two about exhaustion, so she makes great efforts to help you sleep regularly from now on.

Mileena hardly leaves your side. When you collapse from your breathlessness, Princess!Mileena forgets that she’s not yet Empress. The stress does eventually get to her and it hikes up her symptoms of Tarkat, so once she bounces back from it, she immediately asks about you. She may pull away to engage in her royal duties, but she gets them done quickly and comes back to you as both Empress and Princess. She even bathes in some sort of relaxing herb so that when you both cuddle, you’ll be more prone to falling asleep.

Nitara scours her people’s remedies for a cure. It took her some time, but it doesn’t matter—it doesn’t really work anyway. You’re still tired and ill. As she searches for remedies she brings up the topic of being immortal; she doesn’t press if you deny. She asks a few of her more trusted coven members to look over you when she’s away, and she’s there in an instant when you so much so think of her.

Quan Chi is disappointed, but he helps anyway. He deals more in death and whatnot, but he knows a thing or two about the health of self. He does what he knows best, and if need be, he does great research before making a move. Whenever he feels annoyed from your stubbornness to sleep, that’s when he scolds you for being so reckless. But he wouldn’t let you go unattended.

Raiden chastises you all the way to the infirmary. You’d collapse mid-conversation, unable to breathe and now his hearts racing. When you end up okay, he wants to know what’s going on immediately. He tries not to be so upset with you, but he does everything in his power to help you. Herbal teas, medicine, gentle work over a span of hours—everything. He keeps using what he sees works best. He’s your alarm now and he forces you to sleep when he does; if he could stare at you until you fell asleep he would, but that’s counterproductive.

Rain gently taps you on the head with his staff when you look out of it. He gets annoyed when he’d have to keep doing it, and eventually confronts you. He gives you solid advice if he can’t do it himself, and he checks up on you very often. He feels a sense of shame and guilt from not being more concerned with you and more with his work, and for mindlessly hitting you in the head when you obviously weren’t feeling well. He’s unsure of how to make it up to you, but he’ll get it eventually if you don’t tell him.

Reiko acts as your personal guard already, and it’s only worsened when you can hardly function. One by one does he get some of his more insignificant duties off of him so that he has more time with you. If General Shao knows, he may offer some sort of help. Reiko sometimes makes himself late to duty so that he can take care of you, until he’s sure you’ll be fine on your own for an entire day. He sometimes comes back to you in the middle of duty, when things are boring and he can sneak away, and he helps you get as much sleep as possible from then on.

Shang Tsung makes a snide remark before casting some sort of spell on you to sleep. Before, he’d just made some sort of joke about how tired you look and smothers you with slightly sardonic pet names, but the total 180 when you couldn’t breathe could kill someone. It’s the most emotion he’s shown other than his usual in so so long, and once you’ve come to your senses he practically threatens you to get better. He’d help here and there, but your recovery is reduced to a side hustle over time.

Sindel first noticed when you became lackluster in your work. She confronted you firmly, and only backed off when you assured her that you could continue working. When she caught wind you had ended up in the medics hands, she focused on fixing you first before confronting you on your lie. She’d be hurt, at first, and she temporarily relieves you from your work. You’ll have your own private quarters if you haven’t already, and more luxury that she thinks will help you feel better. Even if you apologize, she’s already made up a reason why you did it and accepts that. However, you’re required to see her now.

Syzoth genuinely starts to act beside himself even at the first sign of complication. He searches all the land for remedies for your kind, and comes back to you to help heal you whether or not he’s successful. Outside of remedies he initiates naps, cuddles and everything nice that would get you to sleep. Deep purrs from his chest as a lullaby. He’s constantly monitoring you when you’re up and active, clinging to your side. When he thinks that you’ve been out for too long, he insists to go back to sleep some more.

Tanya covers for you before you even know. Your lack of sleep makes you overlook things, and she’s been trailing behind you and fixing your mishaps. She’s meant to confront you, and when you collapse before her unable to breathe it’s as if she already knows what to do. When you’re lying in her bed recovering from the incident, she tells you what she’s going to do—it’s not an open ended choice.

Tomas Vrbada is far too observant. He may be busy with Hanzo, but that doesn’t mean he can’t check for you. He pesters you as you get tireder and tireder each day, and eventually catches you up and not sleeping. It sprouts the conversation of your sleeping habits and he’s overall sympathetic to your guilt. He doesn’t let it get to the point of you being sick; and if for some reason it does, he’s already right there to help you (even if his heart is going a million miles an hour). He begins to stop working later so that you eat, sleep and do routines on time.

@𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐀೨

info

#mortal kombat x reader #bi han x reader #baraka x reader #general shao x reader #geras x reader #havik x reader #johnny cage x reader #kitana x reader #kung lao x reader #liu kang x reader #mileena x reader #raiden x reader #reiko x reader #shang tsung x reader #syzoth x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #vampirzina #kenshi takahashi x reader

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muchosbesitos · 6 months

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stalker/yandere!Miguel x civilian!reader (female)

like this miguel still have his spider man power , and hq but… has an interest in reader who’s is a reporter in NYC. Reader is (I feel like ) a kind sweet person who take care of others. As well as her boyfriend 🤭(that Miguel Is going to kill 😭🤭) but before miguel do SUCH thing. Her boyfriend has problems with going to work late at night (at least saying it was work 🙄) and coming home drunk after night, after night and night, sometimes reader see him with lipstick stains in his pants or smells like perfume , which reader just say ‘it ok there a lot of women who’s work with him’…. which get reader sad and Miguel pissed through seeing all of this through a window.and some day reader get bored and want to her boyfriend to touch her … and you know get little touchy together. But her boyfriend says work is important.and always leave her alone feeling miserable about it. So like it the night where Miguel come late to do his daily visits to stalk-I mean check up on reader. And this night Miguel hear different things and a different in voice of reader. The window was open a Little bit, but to be able to hear sound. And the curtain was open. And the when Miguel saw reader masturbate with a dildo,bouncing on it,while wearing a long t shirt. and that get Miguel hard and some of reader moan was being heard…it was music to his ears ( in fact reader voice was always music to Miguel hear 🤭. ) but reader was moaning her boyfriend name… which pissed Miguel off, it should have been him instead of that cheating shit…but that wasn’t going to take the fun to see reader masturbate . (Miguel pov I feel like 🤭🤭) it going it be me that she screams at. And so after that night of seeing reader masturbate he couldn’t get himself to see reader when ever she come to him to ask questions (reader is doing her report job to Miguel who’s is spider man) which Miguel would just pat her head or signal that he is going to leave or just leave, or just flirt with reader when he has a couple of minutes left before going off.

Omg I can’t wait to see what you can do DAYA! I am COMPLETELY Grateful for whatever you make and how long you make it! bye I hope you have a great day!

should’ve been me

pairing: yandere (?) miguel o’hara x fem reader

contents: cheating (not from reader or miguel), masturbation, use of toy, reader gets called a slut, stalking-ish, doggy, unprotected p in v, riding

a/n: i hope i did your request justice 😵‍💫

word count: 4k

Loud gravel clashing against one another, car alarms blaring as debris fell onto them, and high pitched screams broke you out of your thoughts while you were editing one of the latest pictures for the newspaper. While most people made a beeline to get out of danger, you ran straight through it with a camera in your hand. You angled the camera up, trying your best to frame the picture of the vulture-like man crawling up a building. You'd managed to capture a few good photos before you were suddenly taken off your feet into the air.

While you did live in a futuristic world, the need for a reliable news source didn't waver which is where you came in. You worked for the a newspaper that emphasized mostly on providing a non-biased source, given that the company wasn't relying on any government or outside funds to keep going. While your boss wasn't exactly too pleasant to be around, he gave you the opportunity to work the hours you wanted and gave you a decent pay. You worked as a photographer and a reporter, focusing mostly on the topics that would fill you up with a sense of adventure.

That sense of adventure now had you hanging on the side of the Empire State building as Vulture held you for hostage reasons. "Will the spider come out to play?!" His voice boomed, fear igniting in you as he dangled you closer and closer to the edge. A crowd had gathered underneath, their cellphones in the air as they waited for how the events would unfold. You silently begged that Spider-Man would show up soon, seeing him as a hero as opposed to most newspapers in the city who painted him as an anti-hero.

The vulture lunged forward from a kick that Spider-Man delivered from behind, a sadistic grin on his face as he dropped you. The camera hanging from your hands slipped out, landing on the ground as the pieces scattered. You were expecting your life to flash through your eyes, but all you felt was a sense of panic at wanting to stay alive. A loud scream ripped out from your chest as you started to continued to fall, bracing yourself for the impact.

A few feet away from the ground, you found yourself dangling as a spider web wrapped around your waist. Spider-Man swung towards you, your back plush against his chest as he lowered you down on the floor. You felt the adrenaline pumping through your body as you watched Spider-Man swing back up to the building, clawing his way through the Vulture's suit. Once the shakiness in your hands had dissipated, you brought up the spare camera up once more and began taking pictures of the events unfolding.

Once the fight ended with Vulture getting captured, you walked back to the office. you were practically in a frenzy state, your mind overrunning with different headlines and different ways to format the paper as ideas rushed through your head. You were so distracted in how you were going to formulate this edition that you didn't notice that you'd bumped into somebody. You muttered out an apology, stepping back to see who you'd just bumped into.

"Spider-Man, wow! I'm so sorry for bumping into you, I wanted to also thank you for saving my life back there. I didn't get the chance to with everything going on," you told him, speaking quickly out of excitement. "Don't worry about it, I understand. I actually had something to ask of you if you didn't mind," he told you, his imposing figure looming over you.

"What's up?" You inquired, looking up at the blue mask almost like you were trying to read his expression through it. "I want you to be my personal reporter of sorts, the other ones paint me like i'm evil or something. I'd give you a heads up before the fight got started," he responded, completely taking you for surprise. "Sure, I'd love to," you replied, his request being the easiest thing you could've said yes to.

You got back home from work to see a package awaiting for you on the front step. You looked down at the box, checking to see if it had your boyfriend's name on it but it was blank. You opened up the box to see a brand new camera inside along with a tripod, a note attached to the side. 'From your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man', his handwriting came out rushed but you appreciated the fact he took time out of his schedule to do this gesture for you.

Ever since then, Spider-Man made sure to inform you when a fight was going to occur beforehand to make sure you were first at the scene. This partnership between the two of you gave your newspaper surged the rise of revenue and in exchange, Spider-Man could patrol the cities without getting a hot dog thrown at him. He even gave you some exclusive interviews when he had the time, the sessions feeling more like you were talking to a friend than the hero of Nueva York.

"I was starting to think you weren't gonna show up Spidey," you told him as he dropped into your balcony, a small smile on your face. "Wouldn't miss hanging out with my favorite reporter. Where's your little boyfriend?" He responded, leaning against the balcony a bit. "He's not that little, you're just a giant. But he texted and said he'd be working late today," your face dropped a little as you speak, having a suspicion in the back of your mind at your boyfriend's infidelity.

You remembered that Spider-Man was still there, waiting for you to start the interview with him and you quickly schooled your expression back to normal. "Sorry about that, come on in," you told him, opening up the porch door before stepping back inside your apartment. Spider-Man followed suit, shutting the door behind him before sitting down next to you on the couch.

You turned on your recorder, giving him a thumbs-up to Spider-Man just to give him the heads up that you'd started. "So this interview's kind of a twist, I didn't come up with the questions but the people of Nueva York did," you told him, waiting for a couple seconds before you started with the questions. "So they want to know if our hero is single?" You asked, watching as the eyes on his mask narrowed slightly. "They had the opportunity to ask anything and they ask that? But I am single, yes."

The questions continued until further in the night and you couldn't help but feel just a twinge of worry that your boyfriend wasn't home yet. Almost as if calling out to him, he showed up through the door with lipstick stains on his pants and evidently drunk. "Hey, you're home late. Was work okay?" You asked him, helping him onto the couch. "It was, sorry about the mess. Some girl fell over at work and her face conveniently landed by my crotch," he slurred his words as he spoke, his admission striking a feeling of disgust in you towards him.

You helped him get cleaned up and changed, leading the way for him to go lay down afterwards. As you lay down in your bed next to him, you can't help but think about just how plausible his story was. You found it a bit silly that you were even questioning it, knowing that he worked with a lot of women and it was quite likely. You even felt a sense of guilt for even thinking that, knowing how hard he worked to provide for the two of you. Eventually, you managed to fall asleep after tossing and turning in your bed uncomfortably.

The following day, you were off from work and you decided to try out a new lingerie set in order to initiate some kind of intimacy between the two of you. Your boyfriend didn't do as much as blink twice when he got through the door, taking off his coat as he hung it up on the wall hook. You didn't allow yourself to be deterred by his reaction, approaching him as you placed small kisses up his neck. "Baby, can we please have sex? Or if you're not up to that I can just give you a bj," you spoke up, his loud groan causing for you to step back.

"I just came back for a change of clothes, I have another shift at the office today," he told you, making a beeline for the bedroom to get changed. You followed suit, putting on a oversized Spider-Man shirt you bought a while ago. "You like that insect so much it's scary. Anyways, don't wait for me," he told you, leaning into press a small kiss on your forehead before he left. You curled up into a ball in your shared bed, holding his pillow close in an attempt to replace the absence of your boyfriend.

You got up a little while after, feeling an ache growing in between your legs. The dildo in the back of your closet had become your best friend throughout the course of this relationship, something you often had to resort to. You placed it on the ground, squirting some lube onto the toy before lowering yourself down to it. The sleepwear shirt that you had on bunched up around your thighs as you sunk onto the dildo. You started fantasizing about a scenario with your boyfriend, allowing yourself to paint him in a romantic light as you clenched around the toy.

Miguel had told himself that he was checking up on you solely because he was worried about you, even though it was something that he found himself doing more than he'd like to admit. He heard your moans through a crack in the window, his first reaction being to check if you were in pain. He looked through the window, seeing you bounce on the dildo as your fingers went under your shirt to play with your breasts. He felt his cock harden up with every moan that you released, the hitch in your breath as you bottomed out. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at seeing you wear the shirt, wishing that he would be the one to make you scream like that.

Miguel felt fury coercing through his veins as he listened to your sweet moans of your boyfriend’s name through the walls, the sound going straight to his cock. He felt that it should be him making you moan that way, knowing that your boyfriend was off having sex with some random woman instead of focusing his time on devoting you the way you deserved. He forced himself to leave that rooftop once you finished, struggling to maintain a calm demeanor as he roamed the streets of Nueva York. Police sirens blared throughout the city along with cries of help, but all he could think about is how you would feel underneath him.

Miguel was approaching the end of his patrol when he saw your boyfriend walking down the street, slightly swaying from side to side as he made his way to your apartment. He saw a hickey blooming on the side of his neck along with a couple lipstick stains on his shirt, practically seeing red as he dropped down in front of him. "Spiderrrr-Loserrr," the man slurred, pointing a finger at him. Miguel pushed the man into a dark alleyway, his body blocking any chance of him getting out.

"I want you to break up with her," Miguel spoke, the man's brows furrowing until he realized who he was referring to. "This is all about that stupid slut? You're doing me a favor by asking that," the man responded, going into a tangent about how you weren't good enough to be with him. Miguel felt himself growing even more furious as he heard him speak of you that way, knowing what a good person and how giving you were towards those around you.

Miguel grinded his teeth together under the mask, turning around as he tried to calm himself down before deciding to disregard it. He punched the man in the face, his fist knocking out a few teeth in the process. "End things and don't ever speak about her that way again," Miguel told him before leaving, the man sputtering out blood as he cursed Spider-Man and his existence. Regret washed over him for all the wrong reasons, concern mostly just the fact that you would be the one to deal with this when he got home.

"Oh my God! What happened to you?!" Your face morphed into one of complete shock as you looked at your boyfriend stepping in through the door, so focused on his face that you disregarded how disheveled he looked. "Your little hero happened to me," he grumbled, stumbling onto the sofa as he held his mouth in agony. "What? No. Spider-Man wouldn't do that," your response had come out more defensive than you would've liked at the moment and you saw your boyfriend's anger shift towards you.

"You're so naive, aren't you? Always thinking that people have the best intentions when they don't," he huffed out, giving you the feeling that he wasn't just talking about Spider-Man at the moment. "What do you mean?" You asked him, handing him a bag full of ice for the swelling in jaw. "You're so stupid it almost makes me want to break up with you," he grumbled, snatching the bag as he placed it up to his face. "It's because of that other woman, isn't it?"

You expected him to deny your accusation right away, bracing yourself for the impact that his words would leave, but you only received a bitter laugh in response. "See what I mean? Fucking stupid. There is no other woman because you are the other woman! You're only a distraction when my wife can't stop bitching around!" He told you, standing up as drool leaked down his chin. "You were supposed to be an easy play-thing for me to have but you're more complicated than her! I’m done with this shit," he grumbled, grabbing his coat jacket and leaving.

Miguel felt his heart drop as he listened to the conversation unfold, your sniffles melting through his exterior. He knew that he'd done you a favor by getting you out of that relationship, but that didn't mean that he still got some satisfaction from hearing your cries. He wanted to go in there and comfort you, to tell you that you deserved more than that scum but he was also aware of the fact that he shouldn't even be here right now. Despite the fact that everything in him told him to turn around and go hug you, he left and went back to HQ.

You'd never felt so alone before the week that followed your breakup, spending your days either at work or at home. While you mourned the loss of your relationship for a little bit, you'd cried so much throughout the entirety of your relationship at justifying his actions that it didn't hurt so much after a while. What did hurt you the most was that Spider-Man no longer tried to make stupid banter with you or even look you in the eye after he was done fighting. He'd simply pat you on the head to acknowledge you or give you a sideways glance, never speaking to you directly.

That night you decided that you were tired of Spider-Man ignoring you and you decided to do something stupid, willingly placing yourself in danger in order to get his attention. You put on the shortest skirt that you owned and a crop top before walking out the door, keeping a small can of bear mace in your bag just in case he didn't show up. Before you even got the chance to make it out your apartment building, a hand gripped around your arm.

You turned around with bear mace in hand, not expecting to find Spider-Man standing there so quickly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" His voice practically boomed throughout the empty street, his anger seeping through the mask. “This is the only way I could get you to even look me in the eye, Spidey," you responded, his grip on your arm loosening a bit. "I didn't mean to ignore you, but let's go inside. It's too dangerous for you to be out here."

You changed back into your pajamas once the two of you stepped into your apartment, coming back to see Spider-Man without his mask on. you instinctively covered your eyes, not wanting to break that boundary between the two of you but he pulled your hands away. You looked up, meeting his auburn eyes while he held you close to him. "I'm sorry for making you think that you had to put yourself in danger just to see me," he told you, holding your chin up as he met your gaze. "Why'd you avoid me then?"

The question hung in the air for a little bit and you could see that he was hesitant to answer, taking in the way that his eyebrows scrunched up. "I've been sort of looking out after you and I came over to find you when you were using the toy. I wanted that to be me so badly but you were calling out for your ex boyfriend," he responded, avoiding your gaze. You were the one holding up his chin this time, bringing your face closer to kiss him.

The way that you kissed him wasn't something out of romance book, it was something that you'd done out of need and neglect. A feeling of intimacy that you'd craved. Your hand was buried into his hair as your teeth and tongues clashed together and you took the opportunity to lead him into your couch. "I've missed you so bad Spidey, please. I need you," you told him, his mouth attaching itself to your neck as he sucked and kissed on the skin there. "Call me Miguel."

Miguel took your shirt off in one swift motion, his suit following soon after. He kissed your collarbone, leaving some marks in his wake as he made his way down your breasts. He sucked your nipple through your bra, his tongue swirling around it as the nub hardened up underneath. Your hand came down to his messy hair, tangling itself in it while he did quick work to remove your bra. "Don't know why you stayed with that bastard so long, he didn't treat you like you deserved," he spoke up, his voice coming out muffled from your breast in his mouth.

His hand came up to play with the other one, giving it the same attention as the other one. He swirled your nipple under his finger tips, tugging it gently before kissing his way down to your navel. "Auch pretty little panties and he didn't even look at them twice," Miguel took notice, sliding his finger underneath them before sliding them off. You looked down to see his cock was already hard, bracing yourself for having him in you. He was not only bigger than your toy, but also thicker.

He pushed his cock into you slowly from behind, your hands gripping onto the side of the couch while your wet cunt engulfed him. He pushed deeper when your walls stopped fluttering enough, your cunt stretched out beyond its limit as he slid in. "Look at that, your pussy was practically made for taking my cock," he mused, finally bottoming out as his heavy balls slapped against your ass. His hand came to your shoulder, gripping it as he retracted his cock before pushing it back in a swift motion.

Even though he was taking it slow, you felt the tip of his cock brush up against your cervix every time that he thrusted in. His hips snapped against your ass, starting to move inside you with much more ease. Your walls were still clenched around his cock like a vice, but it wasn't too difficult for him to slide in and out. "Tell me what you want me to do you," he spoke in between thrusts, his voice wavering a bit as he spoke. "Treat me like your slut, Miguel. Please, I just wanna be fucked like the slut I am."

Miguel's eyes darkened a bit once you finished talking, his hands now coming to each side of your hips as his thrusts got faster and more punishing. The grip he had on your hips was bruising, but he knew that a part of you would be happy to see these marks tomorrow. "Yeah? Pretty pussy's just been neglected for so long," he responded, watching as you nodded dumbly to his words. "Always taking care of everyone else but no one to take care of you."

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you felt the sting of his hand on your ass, a loud moan escaping from your lips. "Just like that, Miguel!" You pleaded with him, his hand delivering another slap on your other cheek. Your nails were digging on to the couch as he continued to push inside of you, the sensation much better than what your stupid toy could provide. "Go on and ride me, sweet girl. Want to see you work for it."

His head leaned back on the couch as you got on top of him, watching you intently as you aligned the tip of his cock with your cunt. The two of you let out a collective gasp as you bottomed out, his cock nestled inside of you. Though you struggled a bit to move on his cock, you made the attempt to push yourself up before coming back down. His hands were on either side of your hips, giving you some assistance as you moved slowly.

Your mind was all fuzzy as his cock hit your g-spot in this position, the pleasure almost overriding the soreness in your thighs. "You need me to fuck you, princesa?" He asked you and you nodded, your hands resting on his shoulders as he started thrusting his cock into you. You couldn't help but pout at not being able to do the task correctly but he chuckled, kissing you to get rid of the expression on your face. "You did so well for me, don't worry. I understand it's a bit of an adjustment."

You couldn't help but laugh at the cocky bastard, the sound quickly turning into a moan as he pushed into you faster. "I'm not fucking you right if you're still making fun of me," he noted, his grip on your hips tightening. You brought your face down to his, chasing his lips as you kissed him. "Don't worry, I understand it's a bit of an adjustment," you responded, using his words against him. ahis hips snapped into yours, his thrusts deeper and much faster.

He brought his hand down your clit, rubbing the nub at the same rhythm that he was thrusting into you. Your back arched when he brought his face forward, taking your breasts into his mouth. You clenched around his cock tightly, your vision blurring at the ends as the euphoria inside of you built up. He'd successfully fried every thought in your mind, your only focus being on cumming around his cock. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you reached your peak, your release coating his cock providing him with extra lubrication while he sought out his own release.

His thrusts started to stutter a bit the more that he moved inside of you, feeling that he could come just from looking at you so blissed out. Miguel let out a loud grunt, coming inside of you as his cum painted your walls white. His thrusts came to a halt, your body simply just pressed against his as his cock softened up. You got off from him, watching as he made his way through your apartment like he owned the place. He came back with a rag in hand, cleaning up the cum leaking onto your thighs and the couch. "Thank you," you mumbled weakly, reaching over to get your panties from the floor. "Don't mention it, it's the least I could do," he replied, going to clean up the rag.

"Yeah, but I just never received that before so thank you," you told him, pushing the shirt over your head before fixing it. "Just because your boyfriend gave you the bare minimum doesn't mean I will. Get used to the little things," he told you, his arms wrapping around your torso as he pressed his lips against your forehead. “Should kill him for the way he treated you,” he murmured, a small chuckle erupting from your chest. “Nah, he’s not worth it. I have better ways you could be spending your time.”

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harrystylesfan2686 · 4 months

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Alone

Pairing: no one really.

Summary: Reader starts to feel left out in her own family...

Warnings: Neglection. Suicide thoughts. Self harm (in detail) please go back if any of these bother you. Your mental heath matters more.

A/N: I think I need therapy too...

Masterlist Part 2(Azriel) Part 2(Eris)

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Ever wondered what it's like to be alone?

It's a game, really. A game of utter self degradation. A game where there are only two players, you and your mind. A game where you never truly win and you always have to keep playing because your brain never tires.

A game which no one else realizes your playing until you lose and it's too late.

It's the game you have been playing ever since the Archerons joined the inner circle. You love them all, honestly. Thier different personalities was the first thing that drew you to them. You admir all three of them but the one thing you hate is how you got left alone after their involvement to your life.

Before them, you all relied on all of you for company and support. Now, everybody has their own person.

Rhysand has Feyre, Cassian has Nesta, Azriel has Elain, and Mor and Amren have found thier partners too but in case they aren't present, Mor and Amren, as crazy as it sounds, rely on each other. Just like that, everybody has a person to go home to, to come back safely for, to turn to for comfort.

You don't have anyone.

You hate going home because your bed is always empty. You hate going on missions because you know no one would be worrying about you every minute you gone. You hate celebrations because you have no one to dance with, to drink with, to end the day with.

You love family dinners. Even though you never get a chance to speak, even though you never talk to anyone, even though no one notices your presence. You love family dinners and meetings because it's the only time youre not alone.

It's doesn't matter if you're lonely, at least you aren't alone.

But in the game you're playing with yourself, after a while, you get too tired to challenge back with same force. You don't push back the mean thoughts your mind throws at you as insults. You listen to them, compare them to your situation and realise, you've been trying to win for nothing.

You slowly stop trying to protect yourself all together.

The first time you didn't go to a family dinner, you thought you would regret it later but you didn't, instead you felt glad that you didn't go because no one had come to get you, no one came to ask why you didn't show, no one cared about you enough to think why you didn't go.

So you stopped going at all.

You stopped doing everything with you 'family' and prefered being left alone.

You only met them when you had a mission together or anything related to work.

Just like that, today you had gone to one of the Illyrian camps at Rhys orders. He got report saying things haven't been going as they should there and wanted you to go check. But on your way back you had been ambushed by a group of six men wanting to kill you in the camp, they couldn't of course but you did come out of the fight with a large sward wound on your left side.

All you wanted to do was go home, rest, tend to your wound and sleep. You can give the report to Rhys tomorrow.

You let out a grunt and step in your house, immediately tense seeing a shadow of a person move the dark room. Your hand placing itself in your dagger straped to your thigh, you other hand on the left side of your waist pressing on your wound.

"Relax, it's just me." A familiar voice fills the silence as the fae lights turn on and Rhysands face becomes visible. You sigh in relief and furrow your eyebrows,"What you doing so late in my house?" You nearly snap, but hold back as respect for your high lord.

"You came late you were suppose to be here two hours ago." For minute it feels like he cares for you, and you allow yourself to believe that he was worried for you but you fantasy shatters the second he opens his mouth again. "You were supposed to deliver your report two hours ago. You know how important this is, I have other things to do too." His voice sharp as he scolds you.

"You're right, I'm sorry. I got attacked while leaving, it took time to fight them of. It was six against one but well I managed to survive, eh?" Rhysand's scowl deepens. "Tell me what happened there now."

Your eyes closs for a second whem you feel dizzy. "Look, how about you give me ten minutes to freshen up, and I also have a wound to–," You try to say but he cuts you off saying,"I don't have more time. Tell me right now what happened so I can get started on fixing things, then you can have all the time to fresh up as you want. My office, now." He doesn't leave much to room to argue and winnows you to his office.

You sigh and start speaking, repeating everything you noticed in the camp as Rhysand listens and writes down the report. Near the end, you feel another wave of dizziness hit you and put your head down to rest it against the backrest of your chair and groan when you feel pain shoot up from your injury from the movement.

Rhysand finally notices the source of your pain and his eyes flare,"You're hurt?" You scoff. "Yes. That's what I was trying to tell you before you winnowed us here."

"I didnt notice it. I'm sorry, you should go tend to it." He quickly dismisses you, finally letting you go back to your house.

As you look at yourself in the mirror, thinking how filthy and hideous you seem, you grit your teeth. Of course no one notices you. Look at you. You are ugly and filled with dirt and scars all over your body.

How could anyone look at you when you can't even look at yourself.

Your gaze falls to your wound, the big cut that spread from under you left breast to the start of your thigh. If was deep enough to bleed you dry.

Would anyone even notice if you did? If you don't heal and let the injury bleed you dead. Would anyone know that you were gone? That your body layed unmoving in the bathroom floor. How long would it take for someone to find you? Who would find you? Probably Rhysand when he needs you for his next mission.

You eye your dagger that you unshielded on your way in the bathroom. How long would it take for you to bleed out? Hours? Days? You didn't want that. That was too much. You don't think you can handle that much pain constantly. Maybe if you took that dagger and deepen your cut, you would bleed out faster. Maybe you would have a faster death. Sure it would hurt but at least you would be gone before someone found you.

You would be free. Free of the loneliness. Free of the feeling like you were a burden in everyone's life. Free of wanting Someone to care for you the way you see everyone else care for their loved ones. You would finally be at peace.

You gasp and blink out the terrible thoughts. Breathing heavy, you search for the cotton and Healing cream in the cupboards. You groan out with you don't find any of them.

You turn back to the mirror. Maybe your brain is right. Maybe this is a sign from Mother herself telling you to not let the wound heal and die right here, right now. Your gaze finds the knife again, eyeing the sharp edge. Would it really be that bad?

Your hand grips the handle of the dagger, bringing it closer to the cut. You let the cold mettle edge scrap the skin, an inch afar the start of the cut. The sharp edge slicing through skin like paper, leaving a line of crimson red blood, seeping out of the newly cut skin.

Your eyes widen as you observe yourself, keeping the knife near the cut but not touching it entirely.

It's... mesmerizing. The way blood slowly comes out of the skin, the small and steady lines created by your dagger are engrossing. And the pain, the pain is hypnotizing, slowing raising to the rest of your body. Your body feels electrified, there's snips of pain tingling through out your entire body, your ears buzzing with excitement. Your hands are shaking and eyes bluring but all you can focus on is how much you want to do this again. Feel your skin open beneath you knife again. Feel the pain that slowing raises with each extra inch of cut.

Oh gods. What have you done?

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#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #acotar angst #angst #tw: sucidal thoughts #tw: self loathing #tw: self half #your mental health matters #love you guys #azriel x reader #rhysand x reader #cassian x reader #inner circle x reader #eris x reader

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sreegs · 7 months

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it still confounds me that the denizens of this site can (rightly) call out how shitty the moderation is and its inability to keep up with false reports censoring trans people, and then see a poll where if tumblr goes down a good chunk of people are going to twitter

buddy, the place is owned by a vocal transphobe. it's a racist, antisemite, fascist haven now and they literally just took money from PragerU to plaster an ad for an anti-trans "film" all over the site

the usual excuse i hear is "there are creators on twitter who rely on it for money what are they supposed to do?" that's not how commerce works. the creators don't create a market to sell their work, the market is formed after enough people congregate somewhere so it's worth using as a marketplace. they're there because you're still there, not the other way around

"oh but i dont post anymore i just read it" your traffic on twitter allows elon to get investor money, because he can point to just your presence and reading activity on the site as proof the service is valuable

just stop using it already, cut the cord. delete your twitter. go to an alternative. yes most of them are still owned by shitty corporations but that's social media. stop using it altogether if you really want to disengage any support whatsoever

#twitter #social media #hell

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lowkeyerror · 24 days

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The Family Business Ch.13

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Ch. Notes: short

Summary: Fisk gains a new unexpected ally that deeply affects a member of the family.

An: Short filler Ch. but with a warning. Sorry for the mistakes, just wanted to get something out for yall. Also fear not, we will be getting the very essential "date" chapter soon, but first some world building yknow.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

With the way life had been treating you lately, the ups and downs, you felt as though this should be harder. You felt like there was a funk or depression that should be settling into your mind, but there wasn’t. There should’ve been anxiety building up, but all you felt was calm.

After the beating you suffered you thought you’d be more on edge. However as your body healed itself, you found yourself at ease. There was something smug about your survival. Perhaps it had to do with the blossoming relationship that you had been reveling in.

Throughout the years you had prided yourself on changing and morphing into someone with a tough exterior and an even stronger interior. While you never regretted becoming that way, you admit that in it you lost some of your personality.

You were so much more than a victim of the abuse you had suffered at the hands of your mother. As you grew, after separating yourself from her you were set on not ever being a victim again that you hid everything that you thought made you vulnerable.

Your likes and leisurely activities all of sudden seemed like weak points. The only one who was able to make you let your guard down was Pietro.

Now however, having Wanda and Natasha by your side, you find yourself on a path of rediscovery. You feel like you’re coming into yourself again. The women are the perfect models of work life balance and you think it’s everything you’ve been missing.

The can go into the office work diligently and complete their jobs, but also clock out and relax. The enjoy themselves and they enjoy you.

Wanda personally loves seeing you open up a bit more, after seeing how much of yourself you pushed down. Natasha finds herself collecting bits and pieces of information about you that she plans to commit to memory.

In the very back of your mind you think about how quiet the streets have been. You expected Fisk to brag about your beating just like he did with Dragos. However there had been no commotion, and the intel that you were getting didn’t indicate any attacks soon.

It was eerie and you would've dwelled on it in the past, but Natasha and Wanda reassured you that everything was under control. Natasha constantly let you go over her team strategies to show you she was utilizing the soldiers given to her.

They tried to keep you out of the office for your recovery, but you just found yourself working from home until your ankle was healed. As soon as you were able, you stepped back into the office.

While you had made nearly a full recovery, you could not say the same for Dragos. It pained you hear that doctors have reported a stagnation in his progress. Flora relied that certain doctors were starting to suggest pulling the plug as a feasible option. The entire family was adamant to oppose any talk of such actions.

“Baby?”

Your eyes leave your compute to see Wanda and Natasha entering your office.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

Natasha speaks, “We were wondering if you wanted to grab dinner tonight?”

You nod, “For sure.”

Wanda clarifies a bit, “Like a date, Y/n.”

Your eyes widen a bit, but you nod excitedly at the prospect, “Even better, of course.

“We’ll go home, get ready and go from there?” Nat suggests.

“Can’t wait,” a small smile plays on your lips.

Everything about this has felt casual and you love that, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t want to have the typical romantic experiences. This would amongst the first few dates you three had gone on.

Pietro storms into the office breaking up the relaxed atmosphere they had been sitting in. The man looks like he is complete emotional distress.

“I need to talk to Y/n.”

His sister wants to question him, but with one shake of your head she pulls her wife out of the office.

“What’s wrong, Piet?”

He doesn’t hold it together much longer as he signals he needs a hug. You stand up quickly and wrap your arms around him. You feel his tears hit his shoulder and admittedly, your worry multiplies.

“Monica,” he says in his broken tone.

You rub his back soothingly, “What about her?”

He pulls away, “ Two months we lasted, Y/n. I had asked her to be official she said yes, but she’s ended things with me.”

“Oh Piet.”

He shakes his head, “It’s worse than that. She indebted to Fisk, Y/n. She owes him money and favors, she never told me because he’s never come to collect. But now, he’s cashing in.”

You frown deeply, “So she’s protecting you.”

“I need to be protecting her,” he grits his teeth.

You feel for your friend, you don’t believe you have the right words to bring him comfort, “ But you don’t know how.”

Pietro has a new fire in his eyes, “With a bullet in his skull. He’s tried to take everything from me. Papa, you, and now the love of my life.”

You knew the man could be hotheaded at times, and for once you knew he had every right to be. Yet, you couldn’t justify him doing something irrational.

“When the time comes, he will be dealt with,” you say.

Pietro shakes his head, “Nothings happened since your attack, everything is settling. This war will drag on and on if we let it."

“We can’t tear apart the city for no reason, Piet. It’s a bad look from us,” you try to reason with him.

“I know that, but it’s not what I want to hear.”

He slumps down on your office couch with his head in his hands. You sit next to him and rub his shoulder.

“How about we do something tonight, like old times? Something so that we can feel normal for once,” you suggest.

“I can’t even text her because what if she becomes a pawn in this scheme,” he sighs.

“ We’re hanging out tonight. To take your mind off of this, even if it’s only for a moment,” you speak sincerely to him.

He nods slowly in agreement, “Fine, but only because I don’t want to be alone and maybe I’ve missed you. Wanda too, I miss when timed were simpler.”

You get a little excited, “Tonight, me, you, Wanda, Natasha we can do something together. It’ll be reminiscent of old times.”

Pietro agrees and you let him stay in the office as you work. You texted Wanda and Natasha filling them on the details. They were understanding about having to cancel your plans. Natasha also took note of Monica as one of Fisk’s new allies.

The three of you brainstorm to come up with some plans to help your friend for the time being. The night still had promise and none of you wanted to waste it.

Unfortunately for you all, the sir was about become ten times more suffocating and no one would see it coming.

Fisk knew you all would become complacent sooner or later, drop you guards prematurely. He was watching unfold and getting ready to strike again, however this time, he planned for the kill shot.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #pietro maximoff

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exhaslo · 4 months

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Corruption Ch3

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2

Warning: Minors DNI, smut, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship?

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Four months, twenty days until D-Day

Finally, it took you ten full days to understand your abilities and make your suit. It did feel somewhat shameful by how much of a struggle it was to get everything ready. You had to rely on a close friend to make your suit and beg them to not say anything.

You were finally going to start your life as a super hero. Your secret identity had to be top secret. Mainly, because you were afraid of how Miguel would react if he saw you. You loved the man, but you were terrified of his villainous nature.

"Alright, suit is kind of tight, but it will have to work." You whispered, staring at yourself in the mirror.

The suit was tight against your skin, showing off each of your curves, breasts and ass. It almost felt sexual, but what heroes in the past wore baggy suits? Unsure if you wanted to do that research, you knew that you needed something that won't get your snagged on a flag or something.

Patting down your skirt, you glanced at the zipper you had custom made in case for an emergency bathroom visit. Honestly, it made you chuckle since you thought of such a thing. Miguel would probably laugh at you if he ever found out.

"Alright, now for the scary part." You inhaled deeply.

Opening your window, you took deep breathes. You were terrified, but without this leap of faith, how were you ever going to bring Alchemax to justice? How were you going to show Miguel the light in his heart?

"I can do this." You whispered before shooting your web and swinging into the city.

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Miguel hissed lowly as he sat in his apartment. There were a million things going through his head. One of them being how to perfect his spider genetic splicing DNA. He wanted to create the ultimate human. The superior human race.

Unable to think in the comfort of his own home, Miguel decided to take a walk around the city. He did need to buy a few things anyway. As he left his penthouse, Miguel grumbled lowly as he avoided the people around him.

How disgusting. All of these regular humans trying to smile and cozy up to Miguel. None of them had what it takes to be at his level. Unless they were willing to place themselves on his metal table for experimentation.

"Miguel, you won't believe this." Lyla appeared on his watch. Miguel lazily glanced towards his AI,

"Won't know until you say it."

"There are reports of a Spider-woman swinging across the city. People are in shock and whispering that the age of heroes might be making a comeback." She explained. Miguel scoffed,

"I'll believe it when I see it. Don't bother me with such nonsense."

Age of heroes his ass. Miguel knew better than to believe that such a time would revive. As he made his way into his local well-off supermarket, Miguel couldn't help but wonder why such reports would come to be.

A spider-women none the less. Miguel hadn't experimented on any women yet and everyone he did had perished. As he grabbed a cart, Miguel hissed to his ignorant thoughts. He shouldn't allow his genius brain subcome to such foolishness.

"Ah!!!" Someone screamed.

With a heavy roll of his eyes, Miguel glanced behind him. His eyes twitched as he saw a fire break out. Just his luck. Making his way to the checkout, Miguel ignored the people's screams, continuing his purchase.

"Sir! You need to leave! It's dangerous!" One of the workers yelled. Miguel just ignored them,

"Dangerous?" Miguel resisted a chuckle as he finished his purchase.

Right as he left, there was an explosion. His eyes widen as he felt the wind push him down. Surprised, Miguel let out a soft groan as he slowly got up. As he did, Miguel felt another wave push him back down.

"I got you!" A woman yelled out.

Furrowing his brows, Miguel saw someone approach him. He grunted, feeling himself being lifted up. Which was quite a surprise since Miguel was a tall and heavy man. Glancing towards the brave fool who came to his rescue, Miguel's eyes widen in shook.

"Spider-woman?!" He nearly gasped in shock. You smiled softly towards him,

"The one and only!" You chirped.

Miguel felt nearly flabbergasted as he observed you. The one thing he had been trying to recreate was right in front of him. There was a surge of emotions coursing through his body.

"Are you alright?" You asked, patting Miguel off as you escaped the building with him.

"Allow me to have a blood sample," Was the first thing Miguel said. You flinched, taking a step back,

"Haha, that's a....uh, unusual request, but I'll have to decline." You said, trying to hide your nerves. Miguel grabbed your shoulders,

"You don't understand. I've been trying to create someone like you for years. Please, I need to know how-"

"Perhaps if we bump into each other at another time, I can give you an answer, but I really must go. Take care of yourself and don't get hurt, okay?"

Miguel reached out to you once more as you swung away. The look in his eyes were one of desperation and frustration. How were you here? How did he not notice such a fine, perfect specimen in his city? This whole place belonged to him....

Including you.

Grabbing his items, Miguel hurried back to his penthouse. He needed to research on you. Miguel needed to find out more about you. Miguel needed you in his lab!

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Finding a good building to land on, you let out a small squeal. You had been swinging around doing little things here and there and finally, finally, you managed to do something heroic. Best of all, you had saved Miguel.

Trying to cover the blush on your cheeks, you recalled the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The look on his face was something else too. You've never seen him so shock, so amazed. If only he looked at you like that and not Spider-Woman.

"Mhm, but he just had to ask for a blood sample. I almost gave in too! I have to be careful!" You whined.

Sitting at the edge of the building, you glanced down at the messy, beautiful city below. You were going to have to get better at Super Hero stuff if you wanted to make any real change.

That, and you would have to control your emotions better if you ever wanted to change and heal Miguel. He was far too talented and smart to fall down the same fate as his father.

"I will save him."

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Miguel was on a man hunt. He had gotten Lyla to pull up anything on this new Spider-Woman, despite there not being much. He had to know who you were and where you came from.

Unable to retrieve much, Miguel decided to do things the hard way. He pulled up every single file on women who lived within or near the city. Miguel was determined to know who you were. Even if he had to do things the long and hard way.

"Let's see. Judging by her body, she is defiantly within the age ground of twenties to thirties. Let's start removing everyone else."

"Yes, sir." Lyla replied, shorting the age gap.

Miguel grunted since the list was still quite large. At least, whoever you were, you didn't cover your hair. Just a cute little mask that covered the top half of your face. Narrowing the list shorter, Miguel just inhaled since it was still a hefty list.

"Is speed dating out of the question?" Lyla asked with a grin. Miguel let out a rare laugh,

"Highly."

Wondering how to approach this, Miguel started to pace around his living room. He needed you. He wanted you. You were the key to creating the ultimate human race. If Miguel couldn't find you naturally, then he would have to make you come to him.

"I will make her mine."

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It was going to be another rough day at work. You had entered Alchemax with two large coffees in hand. Clocking in, you let out a heavy sigh as you made your way to Miguel's office. He had been blowing up your phone all morning.

"Miguel, could you maybe now tell me what's going on?" You asked softly as you opened his door.

"(Y/N), finally! We have a BIG day ahead of us!"

"We do?" You questioned as Miguel approached you, taking his coffee out of your hand, "Ah-Are we doing the seahorses?" You asked innocently.

"Ha!" Miguel chuckled darkly as he patted your head, "What am I to do without your blissful innocence."

"Awe, are we going back to spiders?"

"Always." Miguel hummed as he drank his coffee, "Have you heard about the new Spider-Woman in town?"

You felt a nervous sweat run down your back.

"I-I have! Was that...not your doing?" You asked, knowing that it sort of was, but Miguel didn't need to know that.

"No, and that's what infuriates me." He spat, placing his drink down, "I need to know how she came to be. I will not be stopping my spider experiments anytime soon. Not until she submits herself to me, or I recreate her very existence."

"Miguel...You can't have someone submit themselves to you like a trophy. You'd have to understand them...and honestly, if she really is a hero...I don't think...she will like...what you're...doing...here." Your voice kept getting lower and lower as Miguel slowly approached you.

"(Y/N), do you think what I'm doing here is wrong? Trying to advance us measly humans into something greater?" Miguel asked, twisting his views into yours. You bit your lower lip, holding your tablet close to your chest,

"N-No...I-I think the idea...is right..."

"Oh, (Y/N), try not to think too much, okay?" Miguel hummed as he casually stroked your cheek, "Remember, our work here will be one for the history books."

You tried your best to calm your racing heart as you leaned into Miguel's touch. How could such cruel words come out through his sexy mouth. His low tone just made your brain fuzzy. And his touch? Oh, you were feeling that down to your panties.

"Okay," You whispered, giving into his demands, "What will we start with today?"

It was going to be a long road, but if you couldn't change Miguel as you, perhaps you had to change him as Spider-Woman. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel will listen to you with the mask on. It was a slim chance, but you wanted to save him so bad.

"While I start collecting more spiders, I want you to find me more willing test subjects."

"B-But Miguel, y-you know...how I feel about going to the prisons." You whimpered, tugging against his sleeve. Miguel just chuckled, lifting your chin and leaned towards you,

"You can do it." He hummed and saw the tears about to spill from yours eyes, "I'll have Lyla accompany you. Does that help?"

"I guess," You whimpered once more. Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he had Lyla downloaded to your watch.

"Off you go. I want you to be back to file down each of my spiders."

"Yes, sir."

Shaking as you hurried out of Miguel's office, you tried to calm down. Miguel was being extra touchy today...and cruel. The only good thing about you leaving was that you could finally see the prisoners in a new light. As a hero, you needed to learn what villains think like...aside from Miguel.

"Are you ready to go, (Y/N)?" Lyla asked, appearing before you. You just smiled towards the AI,

"Yep! Let's go!"

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

Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x reader

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auspicioustidings · 6 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/auspicioustidings/734619885087375360/i-cannot-write-for-shit-right-now-so-any-little

Hmmmm I’m seeing so many x single mom readers and not sure if this is something you’re even interested in BUT

Simon meeting his pretty new neighbor while she’s moving I and realizes she is either a.) heavily pregnant or b.) has a very young baby so Simon goes “hmmmm mine now :)” and helps her out a little? (Alternatively, if you don’t wanna do Simon for this, then maybe Price?)

(Also if you haven’t read @peachesofteal’s Light On fic, Simon x single mom reader, I implore if you to do so!!! It’s so good)

Peaches Light On fics, and I am being so deadass serious, give me such a flood of serotonin any time I see a new one. Everyone get your butt over there because they are the standard for single mother content as far as I am concerned!

That being said, I've put a bit of a twist on this so it's not really what you requested at all, sorry :') I could not do a similar idea to Peaches because there is nothing I can do to improve perfection!

Tactical Action

Words: 1.1k

CWs: mentions of death

“It's not a shame Price, it's fucking ridiculous.”

Simon Riley was furious looking at the paperwork. It wasn't often that TF141 kept tabs on a promising rookie so when they did he expected nothing but excellence. What he did not expect was a large ‘Early Service Leaver’ stamp over an otherwise exemplary record.

“Their brother died in that warship collision, can't blame them for wanting out.”

“My brother was murdered, I kept fucking going.”

He had met you once when Johnny had dragged him. His Sergeant was both excited and annoyed that someone had gotten the new record for the 3rd selection phase. It made sense to get some feel for you then, if you were as good at escape, evasion and tactical questioning as the test scores suggested then the 141 needed to have you on their radar because the PMCs certainly would.

You were a determined thing, shoulders back and addressing them with just the right amount of respect. Not arrogant, but not a pushover. Soap had been talking about how much he wanted to get his hands on you the whole drive back to base because he was a horny idiot and you were a challenge he found intriguing. Simon had just rolled his eyes and added your record to the small pile in Price's office.

He knew a little of your background. Both parents gone, one sibling in the navy. Well one sibling now KIA. He could have understood taking leave, but to quit entirely? It made him angry, he thought it was a waste of potential. Price could see how it affected him and he sighed.

“Go talk to them then. But do not get yourself reported for harassment and intimidation Simon, if they don't want back in then we make our peace with that.”

That was all the permission he needed. He probably should have taken Soap really, someone who could be comforting and coax you back. But fuck it, you were supposed to be good under pressure so he was going to give you some hard damn advice on not bloody giving up.

–

Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how you felt. This was the hardest thing you had ever done, but you were not going to just give up. You couldn't, not with this tiny thing relying on you.

She had never even got to meet her parents. Your brother died just before the due date in that accident and then his girlfriend had died from complications in childbirth. You had promised her you would look after their baby if anything happened, made an oath that you'd not let her parents anywhere near such an innocent little thing.

So you were on your own with nothing but grief and exhaustion and an ever dwindling death in service payment. They would pay part of your brother's pension out each month at least for the baby, but you were terrified that it wouldn't be enough to give her a life she deserved. She certainly deserved her parents and not her fathers ill equipped sibling, but you could only do your best even with the knowledge it would never be enough.

You flinched when there was a hard knock at the door of your flat, freezing but taking a breath when the baby remained sleeping in your arms. You needed to move at one point you knew, a flat in a bit of a rough area was fine for a soldier (ex-soldier you reminded yourself) but not so much for a baby.

The security you had upgraded as best you could at the moment and you checked the door camera to see Lieutenant Riley. Ghost. You had met him briefly once, but what was a legend like him doing here? Shit. You knew you looked a wreck but it wasn't like you could ignore him so you opened the door, bouncing baby girl gently to keep her sleeping.

Simon's planned tirade died the moment he saw the situation. You had a baby. Oh that changed his tirade significantly. Your marital status had listed single, so he could only assume you had gotten yourself knocked up by some casual hookup. That was unacceptable in a soldier, so bloody stupid.

“Shit” you cursed when she woke up, heading back inside and giving him a nod of invite.

You bounced her and tried to coo at her to go back to sleep. To please God go back to sleep. You never knew what she wanted, it felt like whatever you did was always wrong. And of course then she started wailing and the Lieutenant was in your flat closing the door behind him witnessing your absolute failure to take care of a baby.

“Oh for Christ sake, give her here.”

Simon took the baby and hoisted the little thing up onto his shoulder, rubbing hard at her back.

“When was the last time you fed her?”

“I- well, just before you got here. 10 minutes ago maybe? Just got her to sleep.”

“Did you burp her?”

“Oh. I…” you replied, straining yourself in an attempt not to cry. “No. I forgot.”

While his eyes were sharp on you his hands and voice were gentle and soothing for the baby. He was good at this. Did he have kids? Fuck was everyone just innately good at caring for babies but you?

“Didn't stop to think if you could take care of her before having her?”

“She's not mine. Well I suppose she is. I'm her only living relative, or only decent one at least. I, um… that warship accident from a few months back. My brother died during it and her mum passed during the birth. I'm her legal guardian now. I'm what she has sir, it was the best tactical action given the circumstance” you said, straightening up despite your exhaustion and prolonged terror at being responsible for such an innocent little thing.

Simon cocked his head to the side as the baby on his shoulder burped and gurgled, now trying to get back to sleep. You were still a soldier he saw then, you were fighting back your emotions to give him a report on the situation. He reevaluated after the sitrep and took a moment to find the best course of action.

“Marry me then.”

“Sir?”

“We can get it done tomorrow. Might take a bit of time to get a decent house but we'll stay in my flat until then, better area. Still going to be out on assignment a lot but any death benefit would go to you and the widows pension would set you up for life. I'm what you have rookie, it's the best tactical action.”

“Yes sir.”

#mhairiwrites #cod #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #well at least the implication is a slow burn in which they do fall in love #they just do it all very out of order #baby > marriage > moving in > sleeping together > dating #Soap is gonna be pissed

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shibaraki · 6 months

Text

STEADY BEGINNINGS ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, developing relationship (eventual friends to lovers), touch starved shouto, physical affection (hand holding + long hugs), good god the yearning, obliviousness, jealousy, fluff + angst, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency

wc: 3.8K

series masterlist: 2/5

Shouto was born to be a hero.

It is a sentiment shared by reporters and fans alike. Todoroki Shouto, the pride of Endeavor, the saving grace of his family name. True, his development had been entirely up to chance—no matter the intent or cruel desperation behind his father’s actions, he had to rely on the probability that the next offspring would win the genetic lottery—but low and behold, he did, and to many people that alone was a sign of destiny at work.

Ultimately, he chose to continue the path of being a hero himself, but no higher being put him there. His father did. At the time of his birth Shouto had not been a son, not even a baby. He was a project. A small, shapeless, squirmy thing. Malleable, like any young mind. It’s a miracle he retained any will and individuality.

Sometimes when alone with his thoughts, Shouto would hypothesise on the whys and the hows. The conclusion he always comes to is this: any sort of reality in which Shouto succumbs to his father’s ideals and manipulation would have to be a world in which his mother does not exist.

While his existence was planned, and wanted, he was to be a hero and as such, wasn’t cut from love—that came after. He loved his mother. So much so that when she hurt, he hurt. When she cried, he cried. She taught him what it meant to be gentle, to have hope, to aspire to be his own person. Years spent amongst the country's finest heroes and Shouto still regarded his mother as the bravest woman he knew, strong because she refused to be hardened by her circumstances; soft so that she can’t be broken again.

You are like his mother in that regard. Those same echoes of reassurance that softness isn’t weakness, and it isn’t earned. You’ve been touching him more as of late, as if determined to prove it. Static between brushed fingertips, words expressed by simply pressing your knees together, the weight of your hand on his bicep to garner his attention. The build up is subtle and cumulative and yet each instance strikes him with the magnitude of a thermodynamic explosion.

Nobody bats an eyelid to this shift in physicality, which makes it all the more difficult to determine whether he is reading into things or not. It could be that he’s noticing those small instances only because it’s you, and you are all he can think about lately.

You’ve given him permission to reciprocate. He merely has to ask for more if he wants it. What Shouto hadn’t accounted for is the unbearability of being vulnerable enough to ask. An innocent “can you hug me?” becomes so much more daunting to voice with all that longing crowded up behind it. He can’t help worrying you’ll see right through to the bottom of his desires.

A hand comes into view. Bakugo’s ash-smudged finger and thumb pinch and snap together in front of his face. “Come back to Earth, dumbass. Your thousand yard stare is scarin’ my new assistant”.

Shouto blinks out of his stupor and the blurred vignette surrounding his vision recedes. He glances at the skittish man sitting outside Bakugo’s office currently sending worried glances over his shoulder. “I think he’s more scared that you’re back,” Shouto intones dryly. “Isn’t he the fourth one this year?”

“Not my fault they’re all wimps,” Bakugo huffs. A slap reverberates around the office as he throws down a manila folder onto his desk and drops heavily into his chair. He regards Shouto with suspicion overtop his computer monitor. “Whatever you were just thinkin’ about—stop”.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking about”.

“I know you always manage to make Olympic level leaps in logic,” Bakugo rolls his eyes and tears open the folder. He slides out what Shouto assumes is a debrief and flips it between his fingers. Shouto keeps quiet. He reclines into the couch cushions and returns to reading the incident report on his lap, counting down from ten in the privacy of his mind. Anytime now.

Three, two, one.

“So what is it?” Bakugo asks, trying too hard to sound flippant but landing squarely on irritation. “Spit it out before you give yourself an aneurysm”.

Shouto opens his mouth and closes it again. A wave of hot embarrassment washes over him. He knows Bakugo will do him the kindness of being blunt and honest but it doesn’t make it any less humiliating to admit.

In their younger years Shouto saw something of a kindred spirit in Bakugo. He too did not like touch and aggressively voiced his distaste for it whenever he got the chance—which was often, because divine intervention sought fit to give him the most tactile, handsy friend group possible.

As they got older though, Shouto began to realise that the protests and threats were hollow. Despite being vehemently against affection, Bakugo would allow it anyway, and sometimes even seek it out. The aggression was bravado. Bakugo liked having his friends draped around his shoulders. He liked when Mina kissed his cheek, or Kaminari played with his hair, or Kirishima gathered him into a too-tight hug, or Sero tangled their ankles together on the couch.

Only, for him to comfortably accept it, Bakugo needed to act as though he were doing them a favour by allowing them into his space. And Bakugo’s friends played along without complaint.

From what he’s observed you are also an affectionate person. You are liberal with your warmth and adapt seamlessly to the boundaries of those around you. But you were also visibly uncomfortable whenever people took that affinity for intimacy as an open invitation, and recoiled if they encroached on your own.

Shouto has imagined reaching out only for your body to flinch away from him more times than he can count. It’s a battle staged in his head, ingrown fears. The possibility alone was enough to keep him from reciprocating, set in a state of fawn-like inertia.

“There’s somebody I want to get closer to. A friend,” he begins. Bakugo makes an inquisitive noise, props his cheek against his fist and narrows his eyes as he listens. Shouto retells the story in part, deciding to omit your name, and by the tail-end of it Bakugo’s forehead is deeply creased in dissatisfaction.

“You make all your own problems, Halfie. Y’know that?” he mutters, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and sinking back into his chair. “Fine, you don’t want to make this person uncomfortable, or whatever. If you need a hug so damn badly, why not ask Deku? Not like he’d say no”.

Knowing Bakugo would make his dilemma sound ridiculous is one thing, actually hearing it is another. “How do you know it isn’t about Midoriya,” Shouto returns petulantly.

“It ain’t Izuku or anyone else from your nerd squad,” Bakugo says, dropping his hand to drum on the desk. “I would’ve heard about it”.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t touch people. And that’s fuckin’ fine, yeah? But if you had, I know for a fact any one of them would’ve burst into tears and told everyone in a five mile radius”.

“Oh,” it leaves him a little off-kilter to hear. Shouto leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, setting the report on the dark wood coffee table. The corner of the page is curled, and the spine is creased, and the ink annotation has smudged under his thumb. He details these things as he deliberates, the excuses cloying in his throat and thick like he might cry too.

Bakugo was right—if he craved close contact so badly, why couldn’t he go to Midoriya? He knows he would likely be met with enthusiasm.

“You don't have to tell me who. I don’t care. But you’re overthinking it,” Bakugo grunts at his lack of response, in a way that very much suggests that he cares. “Go ask. If they say ‘no’ it’s tough shit, but the world isn’t gonna end. From what you’ve told me they wouldn’t say ‘no’ anyway. Dumbass”.

Shouto nods and gives up the pretense of reading the paperwork. He feels coltish as he stands and brushes down his front, straightening the creases.

“You’re right”.

“I know”.

“Thank you, Bakugo,” he says. A small smile unfurls across his anxiety-bitten mouth. “You’re a good friend”.

“Shut up,” Bakugo grumbles. It’s a testament to his concern that he hadn’t cursed Shouto there and then. “Now get out of my office. What are you doing here in the first place? You got your own!”

“Yours gets all the sunlight. And it’s always quiet because nobody comes in here,” Shouto ignores the baleful slit of an eye Bakugo turns on him. “I’m going to take my lunch now”.

“Do what you want,” Bakugo dismisses haughtily, and Shouto smiles while thinking, not for the first time, that he’s very lucky to have friends like these.

The fidgety assistant bows as he exits and turns into the sun-drenched hallway. Warmth drapes around Shouto’s shoulders, lingering at his nape while he descends the dark stairwell where the light doesn’t reach. His boots thud against the linoleum, and he counts each footfall to keep his face neutral as his legs carry him toward your department.

Somewhere between one and one hundred and thirteen, a fraction of Shouto’s courage starts to dwindle. He grits his teeth. A hundred steps can’t be enough to dissuade him after decades of denying himself any kind of indulgence.

The further he goes into the support wing the more elaborate the layout becomes. You’re in research and development, assigned a workshop close to the quirk analysts. Heads turn as Shouto rolls through. Heroes didn’t often make personal visits to this area. If he thinks hard enough he could count a grand number of two past visits and neither of them were for you.

His stride falters when he catches sight of your nameplate. It is fixed to the wall outside your door, polished and gleaming proudly. Shouto traces the characters of your name engraved into steel before raising his hand to knock.

Your voice rings out from inside, “Come in!”

A pitched beeping sound comes from overhead. The workshop doors begin to open in a theatrical fashion, receding like curtains to reveal your space. The floor is mapped out with tape. Clear boundaries drawn between the work benches, the fume cupboards, the vault and your personal office, in an attempt at organised chaos. He might have been more interested in poking around for the first time if he had not felt on the edge of intrusion.

You’re tucked behind your curved desk surrounded by numerous monitors that dwarf your frame. Shouto furtively takes in your cute, rumpled appearance. The upper half of your coveralls have been undone to reveal an undervest, sleeves tied tight around and accentuating your waist.

“Take a seat, I’ll be with you in…” the dull tapping of practiced keystrokes comes to a stop as you notice him in the doorway. The professional veneer disappears. “Shouto?” you say, mostly to yourself. Your gaze slides beyond his shoulder, looking for whoever might be accompanying him. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a worried twist in your mouth that he wants to smudge away. A look in your eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugged at his being. Shouto rolls his shoulders, shaking off the tension, and moving deeper into your office. The doors close automatically behind him. “I’m okay,” he assures, taking the seat across from you.

Your expression gentles, and he likes how your gaze follows him. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me,” he continues. “But if you’re working I can head back”.

“Lunch?” you repeated. Your eyes darted to the corner of the monitor closest to you and promptly widened. “Oh, shit. When did that happen?”

An upswing of fondness catches him like a blow to the chest. His mouth quirks into a smirk. “How long have you been here?”

“Too long. I got lumped with a new project a few days ago and it’s almost done,” the monitors shut off one by one as you sheepishly press each button. Then you gave him a soft, apologetic look, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Must’ve missed me if you came all the way down here”.

Dread shriked through him. The low whirring from the equipment scattered around your workspace is suddenly inordinately loud. Was he that obvious?

You, however, fail to notice Shouto’s anxiety and grab him around the wrist as you pivot the desk. “C’mon. Let’s go before the good stuff is gone,” you tell him.

Shouto had absolutely no clue what the ‘good stuff’ entailed—maybe he should’ve bothered to ask. Atleast it would take his mind off your hand. It’s wrapped around his sleeve, right where the fabric ends, loose enough for him to unshackle from if he wants. When he doesn’t protest the contact you stroke your thumb in an arc over the heel of his hand and squeeze.

Shouto falls into step, too caught up to realise you’ve taken him to the cafeteria. He expects you’ll drop his wrist in the presence of your colleagues, yet you adjust your grip and glance back at him with an encouraging tilt of your head.

“I’m starving. I think I’ll get a rice bowl. Smells pretty good today, don’t you think?”

Shouto hummed his agreement. He felt out of his depth, and he didn’t trust his voice. The spark of giddiness was doing embarrassing things to his throat. The line is mercifully short and before long he has a warm bowl of food held against his front.

“Did you want to sit in here? I can take us to one of the senior staff lounges instead if you want,” you cast a nervous look across the sparse crowd. “I mean, support engineers aren’t really gossiping types but…”

A petty part of him hoped the whispers would escalate. To have your name linked with his, to be known as a person that you cared about—he found that deeply satisfying, for reasons he couldn’t yet put his finger on.

Then again, being alone with you far eclipsed the appeal of flaunting your friendship. “The senior staff lounge sounds best,” he answers after a minute of feigned consideration. You nod, regretfully having dropped his hand, and motion for him to follow once more.

The lounge is a modest room with a kitchenette, a breakfast nook and a few bean bag chairs. It smells faintly like peeled oranges. There are post it notes and blueprints haphazardly stuck to the pinboard, covering an out of date calendar filled out in illegible scrawl. This is no shop awning. There is no rainfall to lend to the ambiance. But you are together in an enclosed space, and that is enough to make his heart beat in anticipation.

You scoot into the breakfast nook. He sits on the same side of the table and tries to subtly spread his knees enough to nudge your thigh. You side-glance in surprise but choose not to mention it. Instead you smile through your first mouthful and ask, “How've things been since I last saw you?”

Achy, like he’s used an atrophied muscle. Lonely, and frustrating beyond words. But he doesn’t say any of that. He digs crescents into his thigh through his pant leg and says, “Boring”.

“Figured that might be the case. I saw the livestream of you fighting Haywire,” you bump your shoulder against his. “The Commission probably dumped a whole load of paperwork on you, huh?”

Shouto wrinkles his nose. He hoped you hadn’t caught that fight. The pursuit of Haywire—an eco terrorist with an electrical quirk—managed to cause an unprecedented amount of damage to the city infrastructure.

“You handled it as best you could. The power grid can be fixed. What’s important is people are alive because of you,” a warm weight covers the fingers restlessly whittling at his pant leg. You pet his hand, “I’m glad you weren’t hurt”.

Guided solely by his impulses, the instant you start to draw back he envelops the top of your hand and sandwiches it between his own. He goes hot and cold all over in quick succession. Boundaries, he reminds himself. But you’re not pulling away. You’re studying him with a knowing gleam in your eye.

Shouto clears his throat. Heat pricks across his skin, concentrated in his cheekbones. “Sorry,” he says. You can ask, a memory echoes. “Is this okay?”

“You don’t have to apologise. I told you it’s fine,” you reply firmly. “I’m happy to remind you if you need to hear it”.

“No, I…” his brow furrows. “I’ve been thinking”.

“That’s not good”.

Shouto snorts and shakes his head, his amusement petering out into a shallow breath. “I want to ask. I’ve wanted to ask like you said I could,” he explains vaguely. “I’m not very good at it, I think”.

You make a soft, understanding sound that immediately sets him at ease. “I guess, after denying yourself something for so long it can be scary to let yourself have it again,” you murmur, a faraway look in your eyes. After a pensive moment the sheen fades and your laughter lines deepen, “I’ll do what I did before, then. If you look like you need a hug I’ll ask you instead”.

“In what way do I ‘look like’ I need a hug?”

“You get this—I don’t know how to explain it,” you gesture vaguely at him. “This blankness about you, but not your normal resting face, I mean you don’t seem all there. I don’t like it. I like it best when you’re happy”.

“Ah,” comes his eloquent response. Shouto drops his gaze to where your hands knot together. Every quark in his body is urging him to get closer, and remain close. “Bakugo thinks I should try to hug Midoriya, too,” he adds, oddly flustered.

“Huh. You talked to Bakugo about—? That’s a surprise. A nice surprise, I mean! Well, Midoriya does give great hugs. It would be good for you to…”

Shouto’s thoughts grow louder and he frowns down at his rice. You’re saying something about physical touch and wellness and friends. Dopamine and serotonin. It barely registers. Two truths are pinging around his skull.

You have hugged Midoriya. Of course you have. You’re friends.

You think he’s great at it.

Why is that so unsettling? Teenagers think like this. Single minded and overly emotional.

He feels the shifting of your knuckles under his palm. “Hey. You’ll need one of these back if you’re going to eat,” you say.

“Right,” he lifts his left hand and picks up his chopsticks to take a pinch of rice from his bowl. He chews until the clamouring in his mind has settled, and you patiently accept his stoic silence without explanation. Shouto hasn’t been this awkward since highschool, and even then he was too wrapped up in his familial problems to be aware of it.

“What’s the project you’ve been working on?” he eventually asks.

You take the change of topic in your stride, leaning closer and lowering your voice to an excited whisper, “I’m not supposed to tell you but—it’s for Deku’s new costume”.

“Midoriya is getting a new costume?” Shouto replies. You playfully shush him and he pouts a little.

“Don’t sulk. He doesn’t know yet either,” you poke a chopstick at the corner of his jutted mouth. “It’s my job to prepare a design portfolio and talk through everything next week. You’ll get a new one too, when you break the top five”.

“If,” he amends.

“You don’t think you’ll move up?”

“Reaching the top was never really a priority for me,” Shouto’s attention splinters, half of his focus on the conversation and the other on the sensation of your skin. He considers overturning his hand to entwine your fingers. “I just want to be the best hero I can be”.

You hum, and as if plucking the desire right from his mind, absentmindedly slip into the gaps between his fingers. Shouto steadies his breathing and takes another mouthful.

The rest of the hour passes, syrupy and slow like molasses. By the final minute Shouto’s palm is sticky and reluctant to part from yours. You usher him out from the breakfast nook first, stacking the empty bowls before directing him back toward the emptied cafeteria.

You slide the bowls along the counter for the kitchen staff to take. Then you wipe your hands down your front as you pivot to face him, thrusting out both arms as he stands frozen.

“Can I hug you?”

Shouto touches his face and you laugh.

“This is because I want one,” you clarify with a warm grin, beckoning him closer.

Shouto inhales steps into the embrace, his arms instinctively wrapping around your back. There are less layers this time—the heat of your body is overwhelming, alongside the gentle rise of goosebumps across your bare shoulders. Your breath fell gently on his collarbone, his head lowering to curl into you. He thinks, were he not born to be a hero, he must surely be born for this.

“Thank you,” you mumble, squeezing his waste a final time as you retreat. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Shouto nods. Your presence moves away like the sun being blocked out and he watches you go, departing words caught in his teeth, an incessant buzz in his fingertips. The walk back to his office is a gauzy yellow haze. Every physiological response in his body told him that he was in a free fall, despite his feet being firmly on the ground.

“Shouto!”

Shouto halts mid-step at the familiar voice. He turns to look at Izuku, at the tentative beginnings of his smile. “Izuku,” he says.

“We missed you at lunch—are you feeling alright?” Izuku asks, slightly bemused. “You look kinda… floaty,” his eyes are dark, softened in the afternoon light as they sweep over Shouto’s figure and his face.

"Izuku," Shouto said before he could convince himself otherwise, “Do you want a hug?”

The innocent question appeared to crash into Izuku with the levity of a bullet train in motion. Tears sprang to his eyes, brighter now. Shouto tenses as he is swept into a solid hug. Izuku smells like fresh air, sweat and sweet-salty broth. He holds Shouto as though trying to keep his seams from bursting; thick arms are secure around his shoulders, and a rough palm rubs broad strokes down his back, smoothing the tension until Shouto is relaxed.

You were right. Izuku does give great hugs. Shouto came away doughy, and fuller, and with the stark realisation that while touching Izuku soothed the ache, it still felt completely different to touching you.

Later, as he leaned his head against the desk surface, he sluggishly contemplated the implications of that.

#bnha x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #mha x reader

556 notes · View notes

voidpumpkin · 2 years

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A Guide For New Users Fleeing From Twitter, From A User Who Needed One When They First Started:

Hi to everyone fleeing from twitter, Elon Musk is shit and he already has had an actively harmful effect on the site, one that will only get worse. So, welcome to Tumblr, it can be kind of intimidating, given its reputation and how many different features there are, I was certainly confused and intimidated when I first logged on and as I'm active on both I sympathise with y’all, so here’s a guide to anyone new:

Put your hashtags in the hashtag section. This is the only way they’ll actually have any sort of effect, or appear when you search for something. Don’t post them on the post itself.

There is a character limit for hashtags and a quite high hashtag limit. Go wild. Writing entire speeches is common.

Don’t tag lots of unrelated stuff to your posts, that’ll get you reported for Spam and just hated in general

Don’t censor words, users are fine with swearing, doing so especially with triggering content makes it hard for people to limit their exposure to said triggering content.

There’s no such thing as ratioing.

We don’t have quote retweeting, every reblog, comment, etc counts to op’s post. They can see it all, and will be notified depending on their notification settings.

Change your icon, people will think you’re a bot if you use the default.

Give yourself a bio, it’ll make you look like a person.

Follow people and tags, that’s the only way you’re gonna see the content you wanna see. The foryoupage isn’t to be trusted.

Actually reblog stuff, liking has no effect, reblogging is the only important thing here as there is no like based algorithm. Doing so will also make you appear human.

You can hide your likes and who you’re following. Doing so is not frowned upon in the slightest.

You can block tags, similarly to muting words on twitter.

You can have multiple blogs tied to one account.

You can customise your blog, go wild.

There is no word limit, you can write as you want. But if it gets too long make use of the keep reading feature, (the three dots beside the add gif feature)

There is an image limit of thirty, up from the former ten, though for some they may be stuck at only using ten, tumblr is kinda inconsistent. If you want to add more you’ll have to reblog your own post.

There is no reblogging limit when it comes to a post, though there is a daily posting limit, go wild, only your followers will be upset.

You can have videos, gifs and pictures in the same post.

You can just post audio.

Adult content is still banned, but actual moderation and enforcement is spotty, especially if it’s written.

Spam liking and reblogging isn’t a thing. Go wild.

You have an ask box that people can submit stuff to. You can respond or just delete the post. You can remove anon capability from it (which will get rid of most of the hate), or outright bar it.

You can’t private your account but you can restrict commenting and reblogging. Edit: I’ve been informed that you can in fact make your blog password protected, it’s just that it’s a rarely done thing and not widely known.

Block whoever and whenever, it’s not a big deal. Though if someone you’ve blocked has reblogged and added to a post and someone you follow reblogs that, their commentary will still be included in the post you see.

We don’t have muting, only blocking.

Yes, direct messaging is a thing (it’s the little smiley face)

The only way to promote your is through ‘tumblr blaze’, you pay a certain amount of money and your post will be promoted, but not targeted, so no invasions of privacy. You are subject to the employee’s whims on whether or not it gets promoted and unfortunately hate speech has been allowed.

Tumblr has tendency to hide/consume comments, posts and asks, don’t be surprised if they go missing.

Tumblr searching a blog relies on tags, words in the post and the users name, keep that in mind.

Posts will remain after you delete your account or the original post if they have been reblogged.

Years old posts are still circulating and that is considered normal.

You can queue up posts to be released when you’re not using your account. Or you can just post whenever you’re active. Go wild.

Wizards exist and are very popular on this site. Accept it.

There are posts with no notes that will never gain any more than a sing note for your like. Accept it.

There are posts will no op. Accept it.

Trans and autistic people dominate this site.

Don’t get pissy when someone tags a post ‘tw (insert slur)’, or any trigger warning for that matter, most are just being considerate of their followers who may be triggered by such content.

Twitter discourse is regularly mocked, it’s not gonna fly here.

No, we don’t call each other oomfs, or anything like that. We just have mutuals.

Tumblr in general lacks a lot colloquialisms that began on twitter.

We do have ‘blorbo’ ‘poor little meow meow’ etc.

Trying to go viral or trying to corporate is frowned upon.

Tumblr has a tendency to blacklist things tagged like ‘crowdfunding’ so bring that kind of logic you use for twitter posts over to tumblr.

We don’t have twitter circles, co-posting, etc.

Tumblr is surprisingly good at recommending blogs.

There are no verified accounts, and your follower count isn't visible. This is a good thing, trying to change it will get you laughed at.

People are going to just make up stuff, don’t believe everything you see and if it’s a claim about someone, investigate it rather than just believe it.

You can edit your posts after you’ve posted them, but the versions reblogged before said changes will still circulate. This editing of the original has been used as a spruce of comedy

If your worried about people seeing your potentially triggering, or even graphic content and they haven’t blocked the tags you’ve used you can use the keeping reading feature to put the content under the cut and post a warning at the top.

And this is quite important:

Stay anonymous and have fun. There isn’t an expectation to constantly expose inner details of your life, you aren’t expected to use your real face, your real name, age, etc. You’re not even expected to be truthful here. Exist however you wanna exist and have fun, that should be the point of social media.

Also keep in mind that tumblr has its own distinct culture that is going to take some getting used to. As well as a history any user who’s been here a while will at least somewhat understand.

Also I'll be editing the post with additional info and corrections provided to me.

#twitter #tumblr #social media #Elon musk #giude #psa #hellsite #edited to correct some stuff #hellsite tag #edited again to add stuff and correct some information

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yanderambling · 1 year

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Ahhh love your writing!! Can we get something for yan!ruler and their willing darling who's also their knight? Reader is pining towards their totally sweet and kind ruler and when the ball comes they're very sad cause now their Highness will dance with some noble and ofc fall in love and reader have never had a chance with the royalty anyway :((

But they didn't know those concerns were in vain🙂🙂

i'm so happy to hear that! and what a wonderful idea, thanks so much for sending it!! i may have taken it in a slightly different direction, but i hope you enjoy <3

concept: Submissive Monarch!Yandere(gn) x Pining Knight!Reader(gn)

words: ~1.1k

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, slight manipulation, this one's actually p tame lol

You hadn't been working for Aschanti very long when they promoted you to their personal guard.

You were honored by the trust your noble ruler had in you, and you still work tirelessly to ensure that trust was not misplaced; the last thing you'd want to do is disappoint your dear sovereign.

Aschanti is a righteous and just power, they're clever and virtuous and surprisingly kind, to boot. You admire them immensely, and you're grateful every day for the privilege of being in their royal majesty's presence while you keep them safe and secure.

You couldn't be happier to be by your ruler's side all the time now.

Well... almost all the time.

You struggle at times like these, these high-class social gatherings where you have to watch them dazzle and charm (more so than usual), where they play nice and rub shoulders with the elites.

It just makes the divide between you two so much more prominent in your mind; you feel terribly out of place as a working hand among all these elegant nobles- and watching half of them squabble for Aschanti's attention is just the icing on the bitter cake.

They could have anyone they want, any of those beautiful scions that look so natural in all their fineries, that move with unfaltering grace and poise, that hold high status and social connections.

Why would they ever choose you?

You were meant for the sidelines, a lowborn made to stand in the shadows and keep your divine ruler safe while they live out their life before you.

You’ve known this for ages, and remind yourself often. But, unfortunately, this knowledge cannot seem to stop you from dreaming.

If only you stood a chance with them…

•

Aschanti has desired you since the first day you reported for duty.

You were so earnest, so absolute in your dedication to the crown, to them. And they could tell, they've seen countless knights pull the "happy hardworking hero" act to get in their good graces, but not you. You were real. You truly just wanted to protect them, to pledge your life to their rule, to defend their body and name alike based on only your ideals and instinct (you seem to rely on those for most decisions, and you’re very often right).

They put you on their personal guard almost immediately (which is lodged within the castle, naturally), terrified now at the idea of being so far from you after having been blessed by your glorious presence.

They always feel so comforted when they see your silhouette standing in their periphery, they lose their breath when they watch you scrutinize new persons for potential threats, their chest sets alight when they hear you shifting outside their bedroom door on your night guard (how they long for you to just come in one night and sweep them away...).

You make them feel safe, down in their very bones, until their head gets fuzzy and they just want to collapse into you and let you move and manipulate them however you desire.

They want nothing more than to be with you, to let you protect and take care of them forever, to let you have them, utterly and completely.

But they could never lay themself bare like that, especially not in front of you.

How disgraceful, for a monarch to want such perverted things from their guard, to yearn to be dominated by their own knight. They can't begin to imagine what the world might think- the council, their allies, the social elite- but that's absolutely nothing compared to their fears about you.

God, they wouldn’t be able to look you in the eye if you knew what they thought every time they see your muscles flex while you train, or when you place a gentle hand on the shoulder before walking ahead, or when your eyes get that thrilling, stony look when you focus on a task- they would cede their entire empire for you to look at them like that for just a minute while they knelt at your feet.

But then you would never look at them the same. You'd never respect them again. You’d likely be so disgusted that you would resign, and then where would they be?

They’d have to detain you somehow, of course, make up a collusion or the like; they know they would simply waste away in your absence, so leaving is just not an option.

But then still, you would never again gaze at them with those sparkling, idolizing eyes. You would never again toss them that encouraging grin that near blinds them every time they see it. You would never again see them as the honorable ruler you've looked up to since the beginning.

You would never love them.

No, it’s too risky.

At least they can still be with you like this, choking on their desire to melt into you at any given moment, desperately trying to maintain the illusion of respectability when all they can think about is your fingers around their throat.

It gets especially hard during the balls and what all; how can they even pretend to care about any of these highborn frivolities when you're standing mere feet away, watching them with those sharp, intoxicating eyes?

Funnily enough, you’re also the only thing that gets them through these circus acts.

Aschanti is always subtly watching you during these social events; they’ve perfected the art of staring as soon as your gaze shifts and looking away right before they're caught, it's kind of thrilling.

They entertain petty conversation as they recall the water that dripped down your neck when you chugged it after training yesterday, they laugh at bland jokes and picture your enchanting smile, they allow the occasional noble’s heir to place a flirtatious hand on their shoulder and imagine it’s your calloused fingers stroking their collar (they notice how you stiffen at the sight, how your lips purse and your hand tightens around your staff- it makes their blood pound just thinking you might be… oh, god, jealous over them. Maybe they lean into it a little, just to see your gaze harden. Oh, to think of all the ways you could punish them for their impertinence!)

It's still incredibly difficult for them, though.

They yearn for you every waking second.

They curse the inches between you when you stand in your place at their shoulder, they bask in the heat of your hand when you place it on their back to guide them, they imagine falling into your reassuring arms at the end of the day and try their best not to lose their composure each time.

Being with you is such sweet torture, one that they could never relinquish, because being without you would be closer akin to death.

If only you knew what they'd have you do to them...

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post ~

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #soft yandere #sub yandere #dom reader #knight reader #yandere king #yandere queen #gn yandere #gn reader #yandere oc #yandere concept #yandere imagine #yandere requests #requests open #tw yandere

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cenorii · 9 months

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In 2021, dirty secrets about the use of bioweapons are revealed inside BSAA + there are direct hints in Umbrella Corps that Wesker is alive. I just combine the two puzzle pieces together in my head. So let's look at another interesting post-2009 scenario.

AU - ELEGY OF FREE RADICALS

Chris was once careless about eliminating Wesker. Knowing his nature, he still didn't check Wesker's presumed place of death properly. Relying on his own luck, Chris left the place of battle and never returned there. But he had to go back. It has become his mistake.

Chris reported the scene of the victory to the BSAA. Rotten BSAA could have used that data in any way they wanted. Like going back there and checking out the volcano. They could have indicated on the documents that they were headed to clear the area of the remnants of Uroboros, but in fact to search for Wesker's remains to get rich off the sale and study of his unique biomaterial. But what they didn't expect was to find him alive. Badly injured, helpless, but somehow alive.

Taking advantage of the weakness of the still living organism, he was taken to the secret laboratory of the headquarters. Now Wesker could be under the supervision of BSAA scientists for a very long time. He's much more useful alive than dead. His knowledge, skills, all of it could be utilized. And it was also possible to conduct endless experiments on his unusual body... Testing the limits of his abilities, testing various poisons, looking at the lethality of their new weapons, and etc. He was once again a puppet, as he had once been in Spencer's hands, from which he had miraculously escaped.

The BSAA kept Wesker's abilities under strict control, he was trivially stripped of any PG67A/W injections, replaced with an alternative that was only necessary for his body to regenerate damage after the battle in the volcano, but didn't provide any additional benefits. So he would remain weak but healthy.

Another remedy was also applied to him, eliminating the consequences of merging with the Uroboros, which modified his body in a volcano. It was discovered in 2011, after the events of Revelations 2. It was rude to call it just a serum, it was something more, because it did not remove the virus itself from the body, but brought it into a more stable form, allowing Wesker to take his ordinary appearance. With him, in this form, it became easier for employees to work.

The BSAA restored Wesker, stripped of his strength, any dignity, as well as his freedom. He was bedridden for several years and various weapons were tested on him, then recorded how his body reacted and at what rate it recovered. An immobilized lab rat, a deserved punishment for someone like him? Perhaps. It was thanks to his "sacrifice" that the anti-regeneration weapon was invented, which had once come in handy for Chris in the battle against Mold.

Just think… how many things could the BSAA have invented using the infinite resources of Wesker's body? He was terrified of these thoughts. Terror at the realization that he had no chance of escape, that he was trapped here forever, that he would continue to have his organs taken out of him and be forced into endless pain. He reflected that he hadn't actually managed to do so many contradictory things to deserve eternal torment. And it's better to let him die than to endure this hell. But his own body played a cruel joke without dying. It was an expert on regeneration. His pride was trampled when he begged for death.

BSAA absolutely did not spend any painkillers and sleeping pills on Wesker, absolutely all experiments were carried out when he was conscious. They had already spent a lot of money on him during his recovery, it was a waste to spend even more on someone who could repair any of his damage.

Pain and terror haunted him for six years. He cursed what he used to idolize in himself.

And then he was forced to work for them. In 6 years he had grown accustomed to the constant pain and had already learned to see himself as nothing, sending his consciousness into free floating. Deep in his thoughts, he created a place where he learned to ignore the endless physical torment. But when he was put on his feet and pulled out of this place… Wesker was even more devastated.

It was unusual for him to suddenly return to normal work, all this created a mess in his head, reality seemed to be nonsense. The usual paperwork after hell? Are you kidding me?!

Morally, he was destroyed. His psyche was severely damaged. Wesker from the "torture room" was locked in a cell that looked like a combination of a room and a laboratory. For fear of being put back on the operating table again, he dutifully began to work and develop various things that BSAA would use in the future. But it wasn't life either. Weakened body, lack of abilities... he wanted to die, but he couldn't afford it, because he was practically immortal. Although, even if he used a weapon that stops regeneration on himself... he still wouldn't kill himself.

«Not here»

«Not like this»

At times he thought he was balancing on the fine line between normalcy and insanity. He saw people at best once every two weeks who came to check on his work and were not at all talkative. Wesker had always been convinced he didn't need company, but 12 years without socializing had made him question his beliefs.

Once a month he was provided with food, and then carelessly, because he didn't need food. His body, experiencing hunger, could devour itself and regenerate immediately.

The only reason he was given a room and released from the operating table was because the organization wanted to see what he could offer them. Of course, they didn't stop studying his unusual body and conducting experiments, but Wesker was already in charge of the process himself. Independently amputated his limbs and so on. Only closer to 2019 were these experiments stopped, because they had extracted all possible benefits from his body.

Wesker remotely, horrified, realized that thanks to his body he would live much longer than the average person, if not forever. Which led him to believe that he would be kept in this cage for centuries. BSAA would close, others would take their place, find him, torture him again. And so on in a circle, for all eternity, as long as human society and greed existed. This had to end... but how? A plan was needed, a complex one that could not be unraveled.

His life and existence was a BSAA mystery from 2009-2021. For 12 long years he was not allowed out of the walls of this cell.

Of course he wanted to escape, he had many unrealistic thoughts in his head about it. He was also interested in meeting Chris, aged, changed. To see his reaction, genuine shock rather than the anger he'd reacted to Wesker's earlier 'resurrections'. Is Chris even still alive today? What year is it now?

But this life couldn't go on forever, the BSAA was cracking at the seams. In 2021 it was revealed that they were using B.O.W. soldiers, something Chris couldn't ignore. So he headed over to European headquarters to deal with it - right where his nemesis was located, a complete headache. Chris couldn't accept that his organization, which was fighting biological weapons, would use them. It didn't fit in his head. He had long ago stopped trusting the BSAA, but this was the last straw.

Arriving there, Chris did not expect to meet someone in the basement laboratories whom he had buried a long time ago.

What was he going to do with him? Shoot him in the head without any thought? That would have been logical and in Redfield's character, but over the years he'd stopped being a complete hothead, learned to think first and then act. Gained a little equanimity.

It will turn out that it was Wesker who was involved in the creation of the B.O.W. in BSAA. Especially since these soldiers are improved clones of Chris himself. Who else could have come up with such an idea? Only to a man who thought Chris was "one of his best men".

For the past 6 years, Wesker has been forced to be an advisor to BSAA, sharing all the knowledge and ideas. He might have been able to pull it all off, if only to get back at that organization, turning Chris' anger on it, and turning his attention to himself at the same time. After all, only this "one of his best men" was the only one who could save him. Yes, Wesker was pathetic. He felt he wasn't even worthy of his former name, being so pathetic as to enlist the help of his enemy. But it was the only option. There was no more talk of pride.

However, it didn't matter now, Chris had come here to punish the founders, so their prisoner, their chief counselor, might prove to be the best informant. And an ally.

Natural intuition made Chris believe his former enemy, the biggest manipulator of them all. As if he was definitely not lying now, because he was in such a big asshole that he couldn't let his words sound unconvincing. Earlier, Chris would have easily recognized his lies, but not now. Right now, completely honest and dull eyes were looking at him from beneath translucent glasses. So damn pitiful that Chris automatically assumed the role of the hero rescuing the damsel in distress.

Chris was quickly combine the information together in his head: the situation, the physique, the setting... His opponent had been held hostage by his own ambition, it couldn't help but bring a smile to Redfield's face. But he hid it in his thoughts, because he deemed it inappropriate once he read Wesker's imprisonment papers. Chris had some free time to devote to the situation.

He read about what had been done to Wesker. About all the torture. And Redfield clutched his head, when he got to the description of his ammunition that he'd used against Mold a couple years ago. He was terrified that this weapon had been created in such a gruesome way... through the suffering of his enemy, who, even considering all his guilt, didn't deserve all this. Chris felt that Wesker should have died and rid the world of himself rather than suffer endlessly. Even for him, he thought it was inhumane.

The first thing Wesker said to Chris was: - Now you've taken on the role of captain of the «alpha» too. This jabbed Chris slightly, but he noticed how the hostage said it without malice. Redfield involuntarily remembered 1998, the mansion, the betrayal, the deaths of the Alpha and Bravo group...

The compartment Wesker was in was to him both an office and a laboratory, and a room. A kind of prison, which he could not leave on his own because of his weak physical condition. He was weakened by the daily injections putting his viruses inside his body to sleep.

Releasing him and examining him at arm's length, Chris made sure that in the state Wesker was in now, he posed no danger, just an ordinary disgust. He resembled only a pale copy of his former self.

The BSAA operative dragged him carelessly behind him like some sack of garbage, concerned only with keeping the information in his head intact. But in his mind Chris still held images of what the BSAA bastards were doing here to Wesker. He didn't want to feel sorry for him, but he couldn't control it, Redfield had never been heartless. Initially he had only cared about information, but it wasn't long before he didn't even notice how protective he had become of him. As if a friend, which in truth, he never was. His captive's behavior was different from what Chris remembered. It was different, like a throwback to the past. Perhaps 12 years of imprisonment had had that effect on him.

He was docile, which wasn't surprising, since Wesker had been treated like an object by the organization, and the operating table had been a good teaching moment. Chris couldn't believe that after so many years of hell his former enemy's mind was still intact, that he hadn't lost his mind and was capable of dialog.

Time passed unnoticed during the proceedings with the BSAA about B.O.W., eventually the organization was destroyed and all its equipment, along with Chris's squad, transferred to TerraSave.

Chris during all of this had to sign Wesker into the Hound Wolf Squad as either a prisoner or an advisor. To keep him from getting shut down again, that was the deal. He helps them, they help him. Over time, he was getting back to normal. The food and good company had done their job.

However, Chris didn't know that his new ally hadn't lost all of his strength, and the ones he had were sleeping under the influence of the medicament. But time passed, the medicament slowly stopped working without new doses, and Wesker understood it perfectly well. And felt it. It didn't affect his appearance, so he could play his role for as long as he wanted. But was it a role? Sure he was portraying a courtesy that annoyed Chris to the point of nausea, but it was partially sincere. Having broken with his past at the fault of the BSAA, Wesker could only hope to find a new purpose. After all, as Spencer had raised him, there is no life without purpose.

Therefore, was it so necessary for him to betray Hound Wolf Squad? Would it be beneficial to him? Chris is a strong point. He has no doubt that if he kills Redfield - another will take his place, and will definitely get him into the basement wheel of samsara. So Wesker had no grand plans yet. After all, any of them would be doomed to failure as long as there was anyone in the world capable of resisting.

But Chris risked to give him a goal, which, however, called impossible - to become the best version of himself. To help the Hound Wolf Squad, to work with TerraSave, to use his knowledge for something other than endless failed experiments. Stop being Spencer's failed experiment. The only option Chris would give him a chance at.

Those words stuck in Wesker's head for a long time. Mentioning the old man was like a low blow. Chris knew where it hurt the most.

It had been several years since Wesker had joined Redfield's team. All that time he'd been hiding his abilities so as not to lose the fragile trust in his person. But the truth couldn't help but surface one day....

On one of the missions connected with B.O.W., the blade of an exploding helicopter blew off Wesker's head, and then another piece of debris cut his body in half.

But he didn't die.

Chris was enraged. With resentment, he felt cheated. What else could he have expected?

First, the black mass connected the body, restoring functionality to it, and then this silent carcass picked up the head. It was slow. It looked helpless and creepy. Chris's squad was on edge, but he ordered to wait. The black substance emerged from the base of the neck and attached the head to itself, then the calm expression on the reanimated head changed to horror. Was he in unbearable pain from the newly received oxygen? Or from the fusion of tendons?

When Wesker recovered, he couldn't at first think of a response to Chris' "explain yourself!"

Everyone's fragile trust collapsed, but not Redfield's, for he knew that if his former adversary had wanted to betray him, he would have betrayed him long ago, he wouldn't have let himself be so ridiculously exposed. Especially after all the torture he'd endured. Chris could understand why Wesker was hiding his powers. Redfield had stepped on the same rake of trust again, convincing himself that he had everything under control.

Wesker, ever since the prototype had merged with Uroboros in his body, had acquired a number of flaws, chief among them an unbearable sensitivity to pain. The only time he could not feel pain was when he was BSAA injected with force restraining drugs. But without them, all the disadvantages came out.

Whereas before he could recover from any wound without feeling anything but minor damage, now the pain was so obvious that every regeneration was accompanied by agony. Especially if it was a burn, for heat is a major weakness for Uroboros. The healing places on his body, after that helicopter situation, hurt like hell.

He was closer to human now than he had been before, and Chris seemed to realize that. That was why he hadn't killed him a second time, but had accepted him back into his squad. It was not only a gesture of goodwill, but also a precaution, a way to keep a dangerous object as close to him as possible so he wouldn't do anything.

How long will they have to cut off the heads of hydra in the face of the creators of bioweapons?

- Why do you trust me, Chris?

- I still believe that anyone can become the best version of themselves. We should prioritize fighting for the future to give someone a quiet life that you and I have been robbed of. I know about Project W. Together we can stop new organizations and prevent many tragedies like this from happening again. And you can help us, Wesker. BSAA took away your choice, but I'm giving it to you now.

Wesker at first couldn't find the words to respond, but after a moment he barely audibly whispered: "Thank you."

From a man who never thanked anyone, Chris was shocked to hear that. And he was proud of him. Had he forgiven him? No, his deeds were unforgivable. But Chris wasn't the kind of man who would turn his back on his one chance to make things right, to make things right on Earth, to save someone's life. In this truce, he sees a future that's bright for everyone.

#resident evil #chrisker #Chris Redfield #Albert Wesker #AU #resident evil 5 #resident evil 8 #rebhfun

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ms-demeanor · 9 months

Note

Not to be rude or derailing your answer to the ask about the scorched earth post, but I do think quite genuinely that the site is becoming more openly hostile to its userbase, or at the very least its disabled userbase. While I’m not a fan of mobbing people’s personal blogs in targeted harassment campaigns, I think some people are also ignoring that staff blatantly said in a recent post that epileptic users would need to pay for ad-free to have their safety assured

I kind of don’t think that’s being ethical or user friendly, to me that sounds like they’re refusing to meet basic accessibility requests and answering with ‘pay us money to be safe’. Strobing and flashing ads aren’t just eyestraining, they can legitimately lead to serious injuries for epileptic folk, and telling people with epilepsy to just pay up or get lost is kinda… I dunno… disgusting?

So it looks like in a livestream (not on a post so far as I've been able to see) either photomatt or zingring made a glib and inappropriate response to an epileptic user asking about flashing ads and suggested that maybe they needed to pay for ad-free.

That's bad, I don't like it, and if it was supposed to be a joke it was a shitty one.

Zingring, tumblr's COO addressed that comment in a post where she said:

Buying ad-free (or gifting ad-free to someone else) is always an option, but that is not the solution (and of course, some folks simply can’t afford it). Sorry that it sounded dismissive in the session! That was not my intent.

I still think that's inappropriate (it's not that ad free isn't *the* solution, ad free shouldn't be *a* solution to accessibility), but it looks like Zingring has addressed this issue multiple times.

She got tagged in this post listing ways that tumblr could improve accessibility for photosensitive users and seems to have pretty consistently followed up; she has explained that there are rules against flashing ads that are sometimes violated by the advertisers and asks people to please report ads that break those rules so those advertisers can be blocked, has noted that there is apparently a "stop all autoplay" option in the works behind the scenes. She does also seem to take it seriously when users reach out with complaints about accessibility issues and seems to be willing to explore options.

Looking through that blog, this does not seem to be a site that is hostile to users with accessibility issues so much as, like everything else that's wrong around here, it is ridiculously understaffed so every project that someone wants to have as a priority is a project that someone else needs put on the backburner.

However, to very gently push back: how much of what you're experiencing as hostility from tumblr is actual hostility and how much of it is seeing posts like this, which suggests that tumblr is removing accessibility features because the lightbox didn't have double-tap-to-zoom on mobile for some users for a short while, claims that the blocking/flagging issue is a false flag against trans women, shared the inaccurate fearmongering post about tumblr live's ToS, and also claimed that tumblr "allowed" flashing ads that violated the in-place rules that tumblr has for advertising?

(this kind of goes with the 'nobody understands the ToS' but also nobody understands ads; tumblr does not have enough staff to look over the ads that go on their site every day, no social media company does, they rely on advertiser agreements as a sort of enhanced honor system and reports from users if the advertisers don't hold up their end of the bargain; the only way around this for any site that uses ads is to not have ads and that post is explicitly saying don't pay for tumblr because they are doing ads wrong - either they have to run ads and some bad ones are going to slip through and users will have to report them or tumblr will have to be 100% paid by the users or tumblr will go away. If you see ads that are unsafe for photosensitive users on *any* website you should report them to the site because the site almost certainly doesn't know that there's an advertiser violating the ad ToS unless someone tells them)

Generally speaking, I am actually *not* seeing worsening accessibility features, I'm seeing improvements compared to where we were five years ago - alt text on images is now built-in and devs are working hard on making tumblr more compatible with screen readers (as noted in the changes blog regularly); tumblr itself started offering different dashboard themes for users after years of complaints about contrast levels and readability; the "tiktok/twitterified" desktop dash view that everyone hates is supposed to be more readable on wider screens.

Compare this post in October of 2022 when Changes celebrated adding animations for posting (and told users those could only be disabled at an OS or browser level) with this post from July 2023 when they rolled back a feature because of an unexpected use case that could cause problems for photosensitive users.

These aren't things that I'd expect to see from a company that didn't care about accessibility, or that was openly hostile to questions around making the site more accessible.

I don't disagree with you that the comment from the stream about buying ad free was inappropriate; it absolutely was and it must have made photosensitive users feel like shit. But in the three months since that comment tumblr has been very responsive about getting flashing ads removed as soon as possible and seems to be working on more permanent fixes. I think this may be an instance of able-bodied people not realizing how shitty and dehumanizing their joke was (and it was) and taking the steps to do better.

If you don't think they're doing better, I probably can't convince you. I certainly don't think that tumblr is perfect about accessibility and I think that users need to continue pushing for improved user control of how the site displays and interacts with various devices. But compared to the kind of responses users complaints got from staff in 2018? I feel like things have improved a lot.

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alatusprinz · 2 years

Text

" my oath to you . "

pairing : xiao x f!reader

genre : smut with plot, angst themes/undertones

tw! : near-death experience on reader's side, mentions of blood

summary : when you accidentally get into a life-threatening situation, the vigilant yaksha struggles to control his feelings. he had to feel you, he just had to inhale your scent, listen to your beating heart, and perhaps more.

warnings : sexual content, overprotective behavior, slight obsessive tendency mention, unprotected sex pussy-drunken state mention, emotional sex, cumming inside etc

You barely had time to breathe when you inevitably noticed the utter severity of your circumstances. Shiver travelled down your spine, your body tensing up in fear of what seemed like it would result in death with one trivial mistake. After all, you were unfortunately aware of the sheer overwhelming number of the agents surrounding you- ten of them as you could see.

"I must say I'm put off by the lack of honor. What could the Fatui want so desperately from a mere Liyue citizen that ten of you come ambushing a single target?" You scoffed at the lack of reply, all that they provided was condescending giggle from some. Clearly, they seem to be perceiving your abilities and words as no more than a pest.

A small voice at the back of your voice demanded- call him. Call his name, you know he'd come for you.

One moment filled with hesitation slipped past your fingertips- there was always possibility of him being preoccupied. Perhaps you could fight them off alone, then find means of escape. You couldn't always rely on him, could you?

Then another moment past, your thoughts were left unanswered as the agents came charging at once. You desperately tried to fight off the ones who came in offense. Holding your stance and defense was the best you could do against them, and even that was proving to be a threatening task. Your stamina was already running low from returning from a lengthy journey, not to mention your electro energy having difficulties breaking through the shields of some.

The voice called out again, this time with more desperation- Call him! You can't last against them, they outnumber you!

You used a significant fraction of your remaining elemental energy and released a shockwave, knocking away the ones close to you to regain gap enough to at least call for Xiao. With half the mind to finally realize your current state was incapable of holding all of them off, your grip on your weapon tightened.

As soon as you could, you opened your mouth and tried to call out for him, only for you to realize moments too late that a pyro agent in front had finished preparing his slash, and was dashing towards you with full speed. Your mouth went dry, eyes wide from fear, panic and- there won't be enough time, not even Xiao could possibly arrive faster than a blink of an eye-

Then your vision went dark.

Temporarily.

All you could remember was a wisp, and then a furious, murderous force of wind knocking away the Fatui agent in front of you. Your body was swept into someone's arms, holding your trembling body with a tight grip. Even without opening your eyes, you could feel the familiarity in his scent, his protective hold on you. You opened your eyes and whispered his name while yearning for nothing more than his blazing warmth enveloping your figure. And judging from your shivering body, the fear from a near-death experience remained very much evident.

"The information was right, we have to report it back to Lord Harbinger!" One of the cicin mages yelled out, signaling the others to escape. With one slash of his polearm, Xiao silently saw to it that the ones attempting to leave were... hindered. The mastery of battle arts he possessed was definitely a sight to behold, you had to admit.

The hand wrapped around your waist tightened, Xiao's mask glowed in an eerier dark color than you remembered. His fury, bloodlust and wrath was almost visible to bare eyes- the air growing thicker each passing minute. Xiao made the slightest of movements, and he was keeping the Fatui agents unable to escape, yet still wounding them little by little. Almost as if he was deliberately taking his time.

You flinched slightly when a cicin mage let out a bloodcurdling scream from whatever blow Xiao landed on her, you avoided looking at them when you could. Xiao surely then, noticed your uneasiness with the sight of blood.

Placing you on the ground gently, Xiao ripped out a long strip from fabric on his sleeve. With incredible amount of stone-cold calmness, he wrapped the fabric around your eyes, like a blindfold.

"Don't move and keep the fabric on your eyes." Even with your sight obscured, you felt calm since Xiao was there with you. As long as he was there, you knew no harm would come. You nodded, silently remembering once again that he could have easily ended the battle the moment he arrived. That he could have swung his spear with one precise blow and possibly ended all of their lives with no more than a lift of his finger. You gulped, since it left only one option as to why he had been taking his time with them. Perhaps he did not see the reason why as to their death should be quick and clean.

Surely enough, their voices did not quiet down as fast as you expected. Your brows furrowed in slight discomfort from how some sounded like they were pleading for mercy, and then the eerie silence following. Stopping Xiao didn't seem like an option, however. After all, you imagine you too, would finish someone off yourself if they had threatened Xiao's life.

Amidst your thoughts, you noticed that it had finally fallen silent around you. When you reached for the fabric around your eyes, Xiao's gloved hand prevented you from taking it off.

"Keep it on." I don't want you to see this brutality- this evil I'm bound to commit as long as I walk this earth. Xiao's thoughts echoed silently inside the safety of his mind, the idea of you being frightened by him leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

To you, Xiao's voice sounded ambiguous, like he wasn't even sure on how he felt then. The both of you struggled to find words to say when he lifted your body with ease (being an adeptus, this proved itself to be an action of utmost ease to him), and teleported to where you expected to be your familiar room in Wangshu Inn.

Your vision slightly wavered from the sudden light when Xiao slowly pulled the fabric off your eyes. When your sight cleared, there stood Xiao, amber eyes fixated on scanning from your head to toe for signs of injuries. Surely enough, minor ones were bound to be left behind.

"You're hurt." You two murmured at the same time to one another. You referred to the slight cut on his forearm, a small one that you imagine is stinging like hell at that point. Xiao's brows furrowed as he kneeled down and slowly caressed your calf. You hadn't even noticed the slight scrape on your lower calf, it didn't hurt at all.

"It's fine, I can't feel anything really." You tried to comfort Xiao, but his expression visibly fell somber.

"Did you kill them?" In an attempt to divert his attention from your scrape, you managed to ask him the question in slight curiosity, slight concern on what his answer would be. After all, if he had really killed them, would that be a diplomatic problem for Liyue and Snezhnaya? They were usually regarded as diplomats, after all.

"I don't fancy murdering humans." Noticing your concerned expression, Xiao replied curtly. His sullen expression never changed.

"Why didn't you call out for me?" His voice was eerily grim, cold. The tone he used cut through your heart like a knife, and perhaps you deserved his brusque attitude after what you got yourself into.

"You didn't call my name, not once. What were you thinking?" Xiao's voice got louder as he spoke, roaring and demanding answers from you. You had never seen him like this, absolute fury burning in his eyes, his grip on your ankle grew tighter as well. You avoided looking at him, squirming in what felt like regret, the discomfort making your stomach drop.

Xiao's heart was beating too loud, too fast for his liking. Just the mere thought of your helpless expression when that lowlife attacked you, how your mouth fell open and no sound left them, all of what he had seen sent a bloodcurdling feeling of terror, horror through his veins. Heavens, he was about to lose you. On the land he was sworn to defend. The events flashed in his mind like a rewound tape, Xiao clutched his shirt in frustration and lack of awareness on how to control this swarm of unsettling emotions.

"I saw it, the hesitation in you. Do you- lack faith in me that much?" Xiao's golden eyes glistened in what looked like conflict. His mind raced with millions of thoughts, what if he had lost you there? What if he wasn't there around the area? What if he didn't make it in time? He gritted his teeth, the realization that mere swift connection of coincidence and luck were what allowed him to save you today made his blood boil. Not from you calling his name, just because coincidentally he happened to be around the area. Otherwise... he refused to think further if things were otherwise.

"...I'm sorry, Alatus. I really am." You didn't have any other words to say, fully shouldering your irresponsible, immature thoughts of solving the problem alone that had almost cost you your life. You kneeled down as well, and grabbed Xiao's hand. Slowly slipping off his gloves after seeing that he didn't seem to mind, you held his both hands in yours in an attempt to calm him down. You were holding his hands in yours, skin warm, alive and breathing in front of him. This was the least you could do.

Xiao half-hated how you managed to calm his racing thoughts and heart with a mere touch of your skin. It made him feel vulnerable sometimes, but today he didn't have the privilege to question such trivial matters. As he once again glanced at your slight scrape that looked like it may start bleeding, he suddenly remembered how you looked when he came to your rescue. Trembling like a leaf, your eyes avoiding the sight of blood- blood he unfortunately was too used to. The sight, smell, texture on his skin or clothes, everything about it was nothing unusual for the vigilant yaksha. But just then in his arms, Xiao painfully remembered how you tremble even in his hold. Blood scared you, murder, death, violence... they all scared you. Of course it would- he had half the mind to remember that you were a fragile mortal. You should be scared of them, naturally. But does that not mean that you were bound to be scared of him, too?

Once again, Xiao's rational mind failed to function for once. His golden eyes only held his instincts as far as you could see.

“I love you.”

Your eyes widened at Xiao's words. You had scarcely ever heard those words from him before. Even if he did say it, he would normally whisper in a tone quieter than the calm nocturnal breeze, as if he didn't even want you to hear him. But just now, he-

"I love you." Once again, Xiao repeated with the same voice, unwavering, almost confident tone in his confession.

The moment your eyes met, his breath is on yours in a heartbeat, lips molding against one another like second nature. You shivered slightly when he pulled you closer by cupping your face with two shivering hands, his slightly calloused bare hands always felt pleasant on your skin. Amidst your relief and blood rushing to your head from the overwhelming emotions, Xiao whispered the precious words of oath tenderly again. Once and twice more, you lost count with how intensely he embraced you in his warmth.

“I love you.” Again, he whispered against your lips. You sighed into the kiss, slightly taking notice of his vocal tone- you were certain you had never heard this hopelessness? want? from his normally monotonous voice before. He sounded so... expressive. Just as you tried to reply, your chance was stolen again with how desperately he clung onto you, his kiss mesmerizing as always.

In the heat of the moment, Xiao pushed you to the bed, not parting your connected lips and laced his fingers with yours. You barely managed to gasp into the kiss when he firmly pressed- or rather, slammed your slightly-trembling hands to the mattress. After he pulled away from the kiss reluctantly, he took a few moments gazing at you. You couldn’t help but frown at his complex expression whilst he lightly caressed your body under him. His amber eyes were as radiant as they were in your lovestruck daydreams.

Leaning in closer, Xiao took a moment to rest his head in the space between your neck and shoulder. His tense body visibly relaxed against the warmth of your body while trying to steady his shaky breath to listen to the sound of your heartbeat better. After all, you were okay. God, after all the chaos that struck, after everything that happened- you were okay, you were with him… alive underneath him. He thought he lost you. He saw you- He- He saw all too clearly how you gazed at him. He saw the look in your eyes with gaze full of fear, panic when you couldn't even manage to whisper his name for one last time and- fuck, his mind clouded over with wrath, disappointment, and concern again-

You noticed how his face almost grimaced, eyebrows furrowed in deep concern and worry. With how tightly he was holding you, pressing his lips, kissing every inch of your skin he could, it was hard not to notice. With a deep sigh, you lightly pulled your hand away. Your original intention was to caress his cheeks to calm him down as little as you could.

“Xiao- ”Well, at least attempted to before Xiao’s eyes shot open and slammed your hands back down again.

“Don’t.” You took a sharp breath and stared at him with wide eyes at his sudden actions, making his expression soften once more apologetically. Even if he didn’t verbally express it, you knew how hard he tried to treat you gently, kindly as mortals expressed.

“… Please. Let me feel you.” You relaxed and caressed his hand holding yours with your thumb, taking notice of his pleading gaze. It was ultimately your fault too, endangering your mortal self as he criticized often. You gulped and pushed away the frightening thoughts of what could’ve- what was about to happen if Xiao hadn’t sensed you- if Xiao had arrived merely a millisecond later than he did.

Xiao's entwined fingers pinned your hands down deeper as he placed chaste kisses on your neck. You couldn't help the sigh of pleasure, his lips simply scattered what seemed like innocent kisses on you. Your relaxed state changed when he started sucking, greedily inhaling your scent and nibbling on your sensitive skin. Even the smallest scrape of his sharp fangs made your back arch, whining in his ear for more.

The concept of leaving marks on your lover's body never appealed to Xiao much. When he saw you, his eyes always adored how pretty your skin looked, clean, unbruised and unhurt. The body he worshipped and loved more than anything, he frankly did not understand why leaving bruise-marks were desirable. Until now.

"X-Xiao?" You noticed how he was attempting to leave hickeys on purpose, to your surprise. This is new. He pulled his hands away from yours and instead placed one on your shoulder, other gripping your jaw to offer him space to leave his marks.

"Stay still." His authoritative tone sent a wave of arousal through your body, more so when Xiao sunk his fangs around the hickeys forming on your neck. You couldn't help but notice how restless Xiao was today, his actions and kisses all felt desperate, needy.

"You're beautiful." While you were overwhelmed with how his hands were pulling at your clothes and barely wasting any moment to dive right back into worshipping your body. Every inch of you was his to mark, kiss, and adore. Even tarnish, if he pleased. A twisted sense of pride overtook his senses.

His hands felt incredibly warm against your burning skin, every inch of you yearning to feel more of Xiao. His hands explored your body, caressing, grabbing and undressing as he saw fit. Your hands also moved on its own to undress him, revealing his toned chest, a pretty sight to behold. As soon as you were done with taking off his clothes, he pushed you down again, lips planted onto yours in a shared vigorous kiss. A fresh sense of arousal flared through your body from how different he was today, he wasn't as careful and gentle as he was. No, he was commanding, desperate, needy and... And you liked it a little bit too much perhaps.

"Xiao..." You suddenly felt unable to wait any more, you needed to feel him inside. Peppering kisses down your body, he hastily pulled at your trousers and underwear, then gazed at you from in between your legs. The sight alone had your breath hitching in excitement.

"I- I can't take it anymore, can you..." You found yourself stumbling over your words when Xiao's warm tongue licked a stripe on your inner thigh, peppering soft kisses towards your glistening cunt. He ran his fingers over your heat, faintly reminded that your wetness was a proof on how much of an effect he had on you. Xiao's sight was fixated on your expression as he left love bites on your inner thighs as he did with your neck, his amber eyes darkened in insatiable lust. The similar pride from earlier clouded his senses each time your face twisted and moans left your puffy lips.

Pride. Yes, that's what he felt. After all, only he could do this to you, make you feel this way- Make you his.

Your eyes fluttered open when you heard rustles of Xiao taking off his remaining clothes. His normally neat hair was slightly messy, radiant golden eyes much darker and clouded than your memory serves. He pressed your foreheads together, leaning in as close as he could. Your warmth calmed him down, perfect body molding so prettily in his hands.

"I love you." Your heart swelled with a swarm of emotions from how vocal he was. Finally for the first time today, you had the chance to reply.

"I love you, Alatus." You circled your arms around his shoulders, attempting to feel him closer. That was all he needed to hear.

Your mouth fell open when Xiao sunk his length into your cunt, your nails digging into his shoulders in desperation. The dull pain mixed with the pleasure of being stretched open clouded your senses, your body tightening around him in natural response. Almost immediately when he pushed all the way in, both of you let out a sigh of pleasure.

When he finally notices the relaxing in your muscles and perceives your comfort, Xiao begins moving against your heat. With every thrust, your cunt seemed to suck him in as he dragged himself out to the very tip, then slamming it back in. Your cheeks felt hot to the touch when lewd sounds of skin slapping and mattress not-so-subtly creaking filled the room. Two bodies burning with desire, love and lust, your vision went hazy form the overwhelming emotions and physical pleasure. Before you could tell, you had absolutely zero control over your voice as you let out the embarrassingly loud moans spill despite your attempt to restrict it.

Xiao's burning gaze never left your face, your eyes and how your body reacted to him. His brain short-circuited, entirety of his thoughts were screaming - (name). (name). (name). He greedily observed, drank in your body’s reaction to him. If this is how he can make you look and sound- He wanted more.

"You're so beautiful..." Xiao molded his lips against yours as soon as the words left his mouth, sucking on your tongue in a needy manner. His quiet moans escaped into the kiss, along with your gasp when his hands hold onto your waist and slams harder into you. His pace remained stable, yet his forceful, deep thrusts sent shocks of pleasure through your body. When he proceeded to grind lewdly against your core, your voice trembled as a high-pitched moan was ripped out of you. Xiao noticed how your body tensed up, amber eyes observing you in a lust-driven stare. The higher he realized he could take you, the greedier he became for your pleasure.

You were acutely aware of Alatus' gaze on you, his stare was never subtle to start with. The hungry look in his eyes, the way he had his way with your body, he didn't even look like he was fucking you into the mattress for his own pleasure. In fact, his eyes darkened, pace got faster each time your moans got louder. Your pleasure was his greatest oasis- to a man starved to quench his thirst.

"I'm all yours" You managed to form the words that's been lumped at your throat for the entirety of today. Xiao's eyes briefly glossed over in pleasant surprise.

"I'm yours, Alatus. I love you, I love you so much." You ran your fingers through his hair, gazing into his eyes. He looked the prettiest on top of you like this.

Suddenly like a switch flipped in his head, Xiao grabbed your hands and resumed his hard, deep thrusts. Only this time, the pace got faster as each moment passes by. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything else other than the sweet sensation of his thick cock filling you to the brim and forcing out sounds you didn’t know you could produce. When he dragged his veiny cock over your sensitive spot, you shuddered at the feeling.

With each moan he heard from you, the hazier Xiao's mind became. You were with him for life, you loved him as he did you. Your hearts were one and you were his- his, his, his. All his.

As the possessive thoughts flooded his senses, Xiao grabbed onto your hips harshly and started moving your body in response to meet his thrusts. The way he forced his raw cock, used your body to freely match his pace sent a flare of heat through your body, the arousal coating Xiao's cock almost starting to drip onto the sheets.

"Y-You like this." Xiao's voice trembled subtly in sight of pleasure, yet his authoritative tone withheld. You nodded vigorously, unable to form coherent sentences without stumbling over your words.

"Tell me what I can do- more to make you feel better" Your pussy clenched around his cock even more when he asked so adorably how to please you. Pulling your hips against his even harder, you noticed his set-pace faltering as his orgasm approached rapidly.

"I'm already really close-" You managed to reply and reached out to rub your clit against his movements. The moment you started flicking, circling your clitoris, an electric feeling of pleasure made you moan out loud, your vision slowly fading to white. Trails of fire was threatening to break loose in your lower stomach, your high approaching. With a violent shudder, your orgasm hit you hard, like a wave of burning flames taking over your figure.

The sight of you so desperate for him was what sent Xiao over the edge. His beautiful, beautiful lover, all his under him. His own eyes glossed over in pussy-drunken state, he couldn't stop his hips, he just couldn't go another second without the intoxicating feeling of your warmth squeeze around him. Your body twitched from the dull aftershocks of overstimulation, yet you still wanted more. So did Xiao.

You see, the more he indulged in his pleasure-driven force, the greedier Alatus felt. All he wanted was more, more of you, more of your body, pretty moans, and this overflowing emotions, warmth in his chest- (love).

I want you, I want all of you- Xiao wanted to whisper into your ear, repeat it until you finally realized how desperate he was for you. Perhaps it was beyond greedy to desire more of you while fucking you, but it was of no importance. From how tight you squeezed around him when you came so prettily, all of the memories and your beauty overwhelmed him- and just as he drank in your overstimulated sight, Xiao's movements went tense. His cock pulsated inside you, and you gripped the sheets in an attempt to keep what little shred of sanity left in you. Both of you panted, basking in each other's afterglow.

With an endearing look in his eyes, Xiao leaned in closer to claim your lips once more. You smiled into the kiss,

and the rest was history.

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