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hannieehaee · 3 days

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18+ / mdi

content: newbf!vernon, based off this quote, appearance from some svt members, afab reader, smut(?), suggestive, etc.

wc: 1848

a/n: this is such an odd premise but it caught my attention so yeah<3

masterlist

"i dont get the joke," seungkwan cocked his head to the side in a questioning manner.

"yeah, april fool's was last month?," added joshua.

"there's no joke. we're dating."

even as you and vernon found yourselves cuddled up on the couch, – in a manner only a couple would intertwine with each other – your friends seemed unimpressed by the mere suggestion of the two of you dating.

"so you've been besties for twelve years and suddenly you're dating? no warning, no nothing? not very believable", answered mingyu, staring at you in nothing short of annoyance.

"why is this so surprising? you guys knew that i had a crush on her," argued vernon, feeling a bit annoyed at the way all his friends were currently staring him down. meanwhile, you appeared to be completely chill as you nuzzled into his side, watching videos on his phone and ignoring the conversation altogether.

"i just don't buy it."

"yeah, i don't get the joke, but i'm not falling for it."

"she's out of your league anyway."

seungkwan, seungcheol and jeonghan all expressed their sentiments to vernon as he groaned in frustration, unable to understand why it was so difficult to accept that he had finally grown the balls to ask you out. alas, he gave up as his friends grew distracted by something else, opting to go back to watching cat videos with you on his phone.

this was a brand new change in your dynamic, so maybe it'd be hard to grasp at first. but it was fine. vernon didn't need his friends to acknowledge his relationship in order to make it real. he'd simply continue to love on you like he'd been doing since you accepted to be his girlfriend, damning any denials from his friends.

acting unaffected by his friends' constant refutals of his new relationship proved to be harder than vernon had first anticipated. they'd gone above and beyond to attempt and disprove your relationship, claiming that it simply didn't make any sense.

any time you posted a picture with vernon it'd get spammed with comments from all twelve boys declaring the falsehood of your relationship.

jeonghanieyoon: booo 🍅

joshuacoustic: drop the fake bf and date me instead 😘

dk_is_dokyeom: ok u guys are starting to look believable 🧐

sometimes they'd even respond to vernon's stories about you and slide in his dms just to call him a dumbass for attempting to make this 'a thing' when it was clear you two were lying.

from: pledisboos - stop being a coward and ask her out for real

from: feat.dino - clearly fake. try harder next time!

in retrospect, maybe vernon only had himself to blame for this. after years of liking you, he never once gave any indication of attempting to leave the friendzone. his friends had all given up on hyping him up to confess to you years ago, leaving his crush as a dormant subject of conversation. it was quite sudden how you and vernon ended up together, and your dynamic hadnt changed too much, so your upgrade from friends to lovers was likely not noticeable to the naked eye.

however, this did not excuse the damned booing vernon had to endure any time the two of you walked into a room hand-in-hand. it also did not excuse jeonghan and mingyu's continuous flirting with you – they were doing it to prove a point, they said. and the most frustrating aspect of it all was how nonchalant you were about it all, always giggling along with his friends and never backing vernon up when he'd try and argue with them.

this was quite out of character for vernon. his demeanor had always been extremely chill and laid back, never one to be bothered by any outside forces (much less his dumb friends). you, however, were not helping manners in any way. you found the whole situation funny, telling vernon not to stress over it as you giggled over how passionate both vernon and his friends were about such a benign subject.

so, vernon gave up. he guessed that since you found the running gag about your 'fake' relationship amusing rather than frustrating (as he did), then he would just leave it alone. he was never one for pda anyways, so attempting to prove his relationship to his friends was kind of like beating a dead horse.

what vernon forgot to consider, however, was how nosy his friends were.

when it was time for all fourteen of you to spend the week at mingyu's beach house, he had let his guard down far too much, leading to a situation he'd like to consider both a win and a loss.

despite the sheer size of the beach house, housing fourteen people proved to be quite a difficult task, meaning that roommates were a must. with six rooms, everyone was separated into twos, with two rooms containing one extra roommate each. you and vernon always paired up together with no questions asked, except this time you were teased and mocked as you settled into your rooms, all while they assigned you chan as an extra roommate with the sarcastic intent of him keeping an eye on the two of you – "just want to make sure you don't get down to any funny business," had sad dokyeom in a mocking tone.

it was quite common for everyone but vernon to go out and play some badminton or basketball during these types of outings. he just wasnt a sports guy, and he was well loved despite his lack of participation. you'd occasionally join the guys, but would mostly hang back with vernon, which was what happened this time around. usually, you'd simply lounge around and watch a movie, but now that you were finally together, vernon decided to make better use of your alone time.

"are you sure we should be doing this?", you pulled away with a heavy breath, tilting your head back so vernon's lips could trail down your neck.

"it's fine, baby. they're all busy. they don't even believe we're dating, so they probably just think we're watching a movie," he explained as his hands attempted to get you to sit on his lap.

you didn't seem to need convincing as you slid over onto his lap, allowing his hands to guide your hips against his own. even through the pajamas you were wearing, he was sure you could feel his hardness under you.

"fuck, you're so fucking warm," he murmured as his hands went under your shirt, feeling up your warm skin and throwing it off in the process.

his lips went back to yours, groaning against you as your hips sped up against his own. easily frustrated, he laid you down, bringing down his pants and boxers to his mid thigh and leaving you in just your panties, adjusting his hardness so it'd grind itself perfectly against your clothed folds. the wetness seeping from your panties drove him insane with desire, but he couldn't stop grinding into you, growing easily obsessed with the stimulation. his lips had made their way back to your own, groaning endlessly against them while your hands pulled at his hair in a way that made his eyes cross.

"hmm, nonnie ..." you'd murmur every so often, making his resolve break little by little.

"fuck, is this okay, baby? just- wanna make you cum like this. i'll fuck you, i promise. just feel so fucking good like this," he groaned as you licked into his mouth, refusing to entertain any amount of separation.

eventually he reached down to your tits, tonguing at them like a starved man in search of his next meal. he was shameless in his desire for you, having wanted you for far too long and finally having you all to himself. no other thought occupied his mind at the moment. the touch and sight of your pretty body under his own was all his brain had the capacity of entertaining.

which was how neither of you noticed the boy suddenly intruding the scene, screaming in absolute shock at the nasty sight in front of him.

"oh my god?! you weren't lying?!"

what was even more unfortunate was how chan's yelling immediately alerted the rest of the members (or at least the nosier ones), leading to the door being filled by about seven spectators within seconds.

the only fortunate thing about the situation had been how fast vernon's protective instincts over you took over, covering you up with a blanket the moment he saw chan enter the room, preventing all the nosy men from having a peek at the nudity only vernon was allowed to see (and apparently chan too, as vernon had not noticed his presence until after the fact).

however, even as he covered you up, he left himself completely bare, having to take on all their shocked commentary whilst fully nude, barely able to pull up his boxers a few moments into their intrusion.

"no way, you're actually dating?!"

"either that or they took this joke a little far ..."

"man, channie's gonna be jacking off to this for ages."

"how the fuck did you score her??"

"do you guys want a third?"

these were only a few of the comments thrown at you and vernon within the first twenty seconds of the guys' presence in your room. however, to vernon it felt like a whole hour of scrutiny before he finally shook the shock off and began yelling at them to leave.

"get the fuck out! and never look at my girlfriend again!", he got up and began pushing them out as a few of them giggled at his anger whilst some others remained in shock at the situation.

in the meantime, you had pulled up the blanket over your head as you sat crisscross on the bed, likely too bashful to face the situation until your friends took their leave.

once vernon closed and locked the door, grabbing a pillow and throwing it outside for chan (who would not be allowed back in, by the way), vernon sped to your side, uncovering you, fully worried that you might be mad or petrified at what had just happened. to his surprise, you began laughing the moment you first made eye contact, causing vernon to furrow his eyebrows in question.

"baby, what the fuck? you find this funny?", he wasn't mad, but more so extremely confused.

"you got want you wanted, nonnie. there's no way to deny we're dating now," you grinned, crawling to sit on his lap again.

"god, i take it back. i'll never be able to fuck you again in peace. i was just about to cum, too."

"'was'?", you asked, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning in closer, "you don't wanna anymore?", you tilted your head in fake curiosity.

"i mean-"

"they already know we're fucking. might as well have fun with it. right, nonnie?", you grinned.

chuckling at you, he couldn't help but agree with your horny logic. his boner was still half-there anyways.

"c'mere, baby."

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aksm · 9 months

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People knock on Rhoam for being a bad dad cuz he's distant and stern to little Zelda and say how Rauru is the goat (heh) for taking her in like his own daughter. Like Zelda had her real parental connection with Sonia and Rauru. But frankly that's a little reductive.

Rauru literally descended from the heavens, married a priest, started a kingdom. Man didn't really know much strife yet. There's no looming threat of calamity or prophecy yet. Things are peaceful. Things are fine. Things are great. Zelda dropped in during this time, talking about a doom that's going to happen tens of thousands of years in the future.

This sad, lost princess.

Of course any reasonable person would take her in and calm her and tell her she is fine and listen and support her.

Rhoam not being able to be this kind of figure for Zelda is tragic. Just read this poor man's journal entries:

"It has been a year and three months since her mother passed. Perhaps she is held back by heartache too deep to heal. If the Ganon prophecy wasn't looming over our heads, I would tell her to take her time... To wait until she is ready. But our situation is dire and leaves no room for weakness—even on behalf of my beloved daughter. My heart breaks for Zelda, but I must act as a king, not a father. I must order her to train relentlessly at the fountain." Pg 4.

"In truth, I understand Zelda's feelings. Painfully so. She lost her mother, her teacher, before she could learn from her. Ten pointless years of self-training, without so much as a book or note to help her find her way... Those in the castle talk behind her back. And I, her only family, scold her for her shortcomings. No wonder she wishes to hide away in her beloved relic research. I'd love nothing more than to console her... But I must stay strong. She MUST fulfill her duty, just as we all must. Even if she comes to despise me." Pg 6.

"I have been told my Zelda went to the Spring of Wisdom... This will likely be her last chance. If she is unable to awaken her power at Lanayru, all hope is truly lost. If she comes back without success, then I shall speak kindly with her. Scolding is pointless now. I forced 10 years of training on her... and after all that, it seems her power will stubbornly awaken some other way. Perhaps I should encourage her to keep researching her beloved relics. They may just lead her to answers I can't provide. For now, I sit anxiously, more a father than a king in this moment. I sit and await my daughter's return." Pg 7. (He fucking dies and never gives Zelda this bit of closure uuuugggghhhhhhh Zelda I'm so sorry Rhoam I'm so sorry)

It sucks because most people remember the cutscenes (duh it's more immersive and important) and in the cutscenes of the first game Rhoam was mostly shown as being stern and mean to babygirl Zelda, who is closed fists explaining herself to him at the verge of tears. And in contrast everyone in the first royal family of hyrule in the second game treated her with such kindness and we can see how happy she was being there with them.

Rhoam was shackled by duty. By prophecy. By the looming calamity. And from the day he named his daughter 'Zelda' he shackled her as well.

And what does Zelda do with these shackles? She accepts them. She tolerates them. Because she loves her father and her kingdom and knows there's a power dormant in her that can stop the calamity that she must do her best to unlock. She does this dutifully. She does all the training, she does everything that is required.

But it still doesn't unlock. So she tries other ways. She isn't just going after the 'relics' because she's scholarly and nerdy and wants to learn about them. She does it because she's pragmatic. She knows her sacred sealing power isn't present in her. She knows she might not be able to control it or even unlock it in time.

So she tries this alternative approach. The Divine Beasts, the guardians. Ancient tech that was used to prevent the calamity of their time. And she awakened the tech. And her father chose the champions for each divine beast. And they were all prepared. And it's all thanks to Zelda.

And then... Fucking tragedy again. Ganon probably learned his lesson from the last time he was thwarted and immediately went for the tech, corrupting it and turning it against the new users. Against Zelda.

It's never really stated how fast it all turned to shit when the tech betrayed them (or maybe I don't remember) but every account points to it being almost overnight. The champions died. Rhoam died. And suddenly, suddenly Zelda unlocks her sealing magic.

I always always hate the literary trope of using tragedy to unlock a great power that could've actually stopped the tragedy from happening in the first place.

And it's no different in BOTW. I hate that Zelda had to go through all this to unlock her powers.

And then what happens next?

She's stuck in limbo (in an almost mocking parallel to Rauru in the next game with his imprisoning arm) holding Ganon back. For a hundred years.

This young woman had gone through so much only to be trapped with a calamity seeking to destroy Hyrule for a century.

Does she know her father died in the war? Does she know the champions died in battle? Would she know Link would survive in the Shrine of Resurrection? Would she know how long it would all take? The century she would have to wait?

I think she didn't. I think it all happened too fast. I think ultimately, she decided a stalemate with ganon was an agreeable outcome. I think in her mind she probably thought she failed Hyrule. When the divine beasts turned she must have been distraught. Distraught might not even cover it tbh. But at least... At least when the kingdom was brought to it's knees by the corrupted tech and was waiting for the final blow, she had the ability to ensure the final blow never came.

And oh boy I have a looot more to talk about regarding Tears of the Kingdom. But I do want to have a couple of more playthroughs of it to really formulate what I want to say.

#zelda #zelink #totk thoughts #loz spoilers #totk spoilers #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #tloz botw #tloz totk #loz totk #loz botw #loz tears of the kingdom #tears of the kindom spoilers #breath

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saerins · 10 months

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𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖…

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.5k | content: fluff, pining, mentions of fake dating, jealousy, reader is kind of an idiot, sae loves to tease, best friend otoya, cussing

notes: hello hello i’m on board the sae love train once more , are you guys still with me ^_^

summary: what do you do when your best friend kind of sort of forces you to confess your two-year long crush when you’re not ready to? pray and hope for the best.

“i could just tell him for you.”

“eita, fuck no,” you throw him a warning glare as you chop the vegetables up with scary precision despite not having an eye on them. only because you know if you don’t explicitly tell him not to, that he’d think it’s no big deal and do it anyway.

and let’s say, you’d rather die than let that happen.

sure, you and sae had been closer back in high school; he sat behind you and entertained the secret notes you passed to him, he used to ruffle the top of your head whenever you pouted, he used to buy food for you during breaks.

but that’s all in the past and somehow, the both of you had drifted since then.

otoya deadpans, an unamused pair of eyes looking back at you from their spot across the island. “it’s been what, four fucking years since you graduated? grow a pair,” he retorts, attempting to steal a carrot but getting a slap on the back of his hand instead.

“bold of you to say that to a girl with a knife,” you snap at him, pointing the blade at his face.

to which he merely rolls his eyes, using two fingers to push it aside. “not like you’re that good at using it.” but he sighs when you silently turn your attention back to chopping vegetables. “does that mean i have to put up with your miserable face even longer?”

you and otoya continue to bicker, and you’re beginning to wonder how you’ve tolerated being best friends with him for the past four years. he’s a real piece of work.

“fine, fine,” otoya grumbles after you’re done with lunch, bangs over his eyes. “i promise i won’t tell sae anything, okay?”

that’s after you threatened not to let him hijack your house anymore for food. for someone who’s earning big bucks being a famous soccer player, you can’t make sense of why he won’t just get food delivered. maybe he just likes to annoy you.

“good. or else i’ll kill you.”

your crush on itoshi sae has been somewhat dormant for the past few years. and by dormant you mean that you haven’t tried making any moves because you’re too scared.

itoshi sae. one of the most famous international breakout stars in soccer. one of the most talented playmakers the world has ever seen. that comes with its own sets of pros and cons.

pros? he definitely doesn’t seem like he has much trouble doing anything he wants. he gets paid for every game. he gets paid for gigs. he gets sponsorships all over the place. which basically means that financially, he doesn’t need to give a shit.

cons? the media can be brutal. sae does something that’s remotely questionable and they’re all over it. he doesn’t thank a waiter that one time? automatically labeled as a rude brat by the paparazzi. and not to mention—the amount of girls he’s forced to fake date just for the sake of publicity.

you’re mostly pressed on that last part though, because they’re all supermodels or olympic stars or rich socialites. and compared to them, well, you’re just someone who happens to be in the same friend group and hang out together every once in a while when he’s back in japan. sae doesn’t even hang out much with the group, to your dismay.

it’s a pain, or so he says.

you wonder how you drifted in the first place. maybe it’s just the fame. you wonder if he thinks of you too sometimes.

must be your wishful thinking.

kind of makes you wonder whether he does have a secret girlfriend that he’s keeping from everyone. you wouldn’t really put it past him. it’s not like he has any super deep emotional bonds with any of you (that you know of). eita says he’s definitely single, but you think he’s just saying that to appease you. he already has his hands full having to watch you mope whenever you see news of sae and another girl and yet another dating rumor.

just as well. you think sae could do better than you, spending your friday nights at home, washing dishes at the sink and looking out at the tokyo skyline instead of out partying and living life with countless friends.

you don’t think you’re too shabby though. you’re a fresh graduate with a job at one of the most prestigious companies in tokyo you can think of. it’s not bad. but you can’t help but feel it’s worlds away from the one sae lives in.

the doorbell rings, snapping you out of your thoughts, nearly dropping the white marble plate you’re washing. your eyes snap to the clock in the living room. it’s almost 9pm—right about the time when eita usually comes knocking and asking you for supper.

groaning, you wash whatever’s left of the dish soap away from your hands and sloppily dry them against the bottom of your shirt, grumbling out loud about how you really should stop coming here whenever the fuck you want, eita while you stomp over to the front door.

you open the door, messy hair and bare face and baggy clothes, fully expecting to smack some sense into otoya eita when you feel yourself freeze up at the pair of eyes looking back at you.

they’re teal and framed by pretty long lashes and definitely don’t belong to your best friend.

what the fuck is he doing here?

this is one of the rare times that you’d actually prefer to see eita at your front door instead.

sae raises a brow, giving you a once-over. of course, he’s never seen you in this state—hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, not a trace of makeup on your face. you’d made sure that whenever there was a possibility that sae would see you that you dressed yourself up as nice as possible. if you’d known he was coming over, you’d have at least dressed decently. definitely not baggy shirt and pants that you can barely see.

“uh… w-what are you doing here?” stupid, but the best you can manage.

he has his hands in his gray sweat pockets, and fuck him for wearing a black compression top. you can just make out the outline of his abs under there, the muscles on his arms already much too obvious with those short sleeves.

“dunno, eita said there was an emergency and i needed to get here,” sae says, wholly unbothered, monotonous as usual. he lets himself in, toeing his shoes off at the entryway, positioning them neatly beside your everyday sneakers.

fucking eita.

judging by what you know, sae was probably on his way for an evening jog when otoya called him. he still has his wireless earbuds in. you wonder if anything’s even playing.

sae takes it off once he catches you staring.

he’s not carrying anything. it’s just him. you wonder if anyone managed to catch him coming over. is his most recent pr stunt already over? won’t do either of you any good if he’s labeled as a cheater.

“so? what is it?” sae asks you, again, while he walks himself inside, curious eyes looking around your apartment, and suddenly you’re hyper aware. you hope to god you didn’t leave any of your inner wear lying around at random places.

in a panic, you rush over to him, blocking his path inside, both hands on his chest as you attempt to push him back to the front door. unfortunately for you, sae’s much stronger than you are, his body not budging an inch.

“it’s nothing, he made a mistake,” you sigh, giving up when you figure that sae’s only going to move of his own accord. “he’s probably just playing a prank on you, that’s all.”

you’re hoping, praying, wishing that sae will just take your word for it and go. because that’s what he does; he doesn’t hover much, doesn’t care about anything much at all. you don’t even know the last time he’s asked about how any of your lives are doing.

the world must hate you though, because sae only offers a grunt in response before looking towards your kitchen (you’re internally sighing in relief, glad that you cleaned your kitchen up before this). “i’m thirsty, you have anything to drink?”

you blink at him, stumped that sae is wasting his precious time in your apartment, but who are you to say no to sae, of all people?

“yeah, sure, juice?”

sae shrugs, “whatever.”

you turn your back on him, slowly taking your carton of apple juice and finding the nicest glass that exists in your cupboard, cursing yourself internally for not preparing for unexpected guests enough. you do this slowly partly because you’re trying to calm your stupid heart down, still not fathoming why on earth sae’s wasting his time with you.

carefully, you rehearse yourself in your head, where you’re going to step, how you’re going to walk over to him—you really are just hopeless. count it your bad luck that the moment you turn around, you nearly drop the glass because you’re forgetting a really fundamental issue here: your merch.

“no no no, uh—” you leave the glass on the countertop, scurrying over to where sae’s staring and thumbing at something on your coffee table.

sae looks at your flustered reaction, giving you way to grab your things off the table and stuff them in the drawer where they’re out of sight. he blinks at you, a slight amusement bubbling inside him.

“wow, big fan, huh?”

you don’t know what’s worse: you being your most unpresentable self right now or that sae just caught you having some of his merch.

“so you have some of eita’s merch lying around too or is it just mine?”

you could die of embarrassment right now.

back still turned to sae, you desperately search your brain for answers. thinking on the spot doesn’t seem like your strong suit right now.

“it… was a gift.” believable, right?

sae hums, as though he’s contemplating. “why just mine then? why not oliver’s or my brother’s?”

fuck.

“i don’t know, maybe yours was the only one that wasn’t sold out.”

“ouch.”

you didn’t mean to indirectly insult him but what’s a drowning girl to do?

sae sighs when you keep quiet, still staying out where you are, trembling too much to move. “didn’t know you were in love with me.”

this time, you whip your head around to face him—that same stoic expression of his unchanging on his face. “am not!”

his brows shoot up. “but you bought some of my merch.”

“i told you, it was a gift.”

you need to get paid for still standing up on your own two feet right now. your head’s way too giddy from the interaction, considering.

“even that figurine over there?” sae’s finger points to a small toy just barely visible behind the nooks of the bookshelf. it’s a small figurine; something sold a few years back when sae was just first starting out. you’d bought it because, well, you’d thought chibi sae looked cuter than actual sae. (especially now when he’s just staring blankly at you.)

“that was…”

“a gift?”

you think he’s making fun of you now at this point.

“anyway, we’ve established that there’s no emergency here so why don’t you just go?” you’re pretty sure sae won’t ever talk to you again—not after coming across what he did tonight. he probably thinks you’re a freak, probably questions why he even considers you his friend (to which you’re now wondering if that’s even true at all).

you make a mental reminder to yourself to kill otoya eita tomorrow.

sae lets you push him towards the entryway, apple juice long forgotten on the countertop, collecting condensation with water pooling below the glass.

“you must like me a lot, huh?” he ponders out loud as you continue pushing him towards the door. you see a hint of cockiness in his stare now, the slightest tug of a smirk on the corner of his lips.

“i do n—”

“be careful what you say,” sae cuts you off, toeing his shoes back on, looking glamorous as ever and you nearly forget that he looks straight out of a magazine even in his sportswear. “‘cause i’ll believe you.”

part of you wants him to just go already so your knees can buckle under, but part of you wants to ask him what he means. what’s he insinuating? isn’t the answer clear enough.

but now it’s way past nine and he’s all ready to go yet he’s still standing at your doorway, waiting for your answer. you want to scream no, you want to keep your secret safe, you don’t want him to know about the crush you’d been harbouring. but he told you to be careful what you say because he’ll believe you.

“s-so what if i do?” you stutter, failing to look him in the eyes, your stare focused on the air in between you.

sae’s features soften ever so slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to give in so quickly, but it isn’t one of disgust. it’s more like one of pleasant surprise.

after what seems like an eternity, sae finally opens his mouth.

“you must’ve gotten jealous a lot with all those girls i’d gone out with.”

your fist instinctively connect with his arm, his stoic finally giving way to a grimace, palm rubbing his triceps in pain. out of all the things to say, he chooses to say that? you think he deserves it.

“you know what, sae? you can go back to your fake girlfriends, i could care less,” you snap at him, pouting. you hate that despite how ignorant his words are that you can’t find it in yourself to hate him.

sae exhales sharply, chuckling softly when he sees your pout, and you feel as though it’s the first time you’ve seen him like this even though it’s not. his hand comes up to ruffle the top of your head gently, and you’re reminded of when he did this to you back in high school.

“can’t do that, can i?” he tells you, that soft disposition gone and the stoic mischief coming right back. “not when i’m in front of who could be my real girlfriend.”

your heart might’ve forgotten how to beat.

sae leaves you standing there, left to your own devices as he exits your apartment, fully aware of his effect on you.

not long after he leaves (while you’re still standing in the doorway), your phone buzzes in your pocket. you fish it out and see his name there for the first time in a long time.

you smile to yourself as you read his message. okay, so maybe you’ll spare eita’s life for now.

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3rachasdomesticbanana · 2 months

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Just Friends | Han Jisung

Synopsis: Unrequited love is a bitch. Especially when it's between you and your best friend. Even more so when both of you think it's one sided. So what could possibly happen between you and him during a night of partying? Nothing right? You're just friends after all.

Pairings: au Han Jisung x Female Reader

Content Warning: Underage alcohol and drug use (marijuana only), Heavy smut, Friends to lovers, Public unprotected sex and light fluff at the end.

Author's note: I do not advise any anyone under the legal age to take part in the actions that take place in this work of fiction. Both parties are consenting adults over the age of 18. Please be responsible.

Part II

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"Y/N, you made it! Sweet!” Your best guy friend Jisung bounces up to you when you walk into the party.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are slightly glassy. Looks like he got a head start on partying but he makes sure to help you catch up. Pushing a plastic red cup into your hand the liquid sloshes over the top a little and you're hit with a strong whiff of vodka. Shaking your head with a smile, you eye your best friend since middle school. His silly grin makes your heart flutter and wakes up the butterflies that laid dormant in your stomach. Why did I have to fall for him? You think to yourself but quickly shove the thought away. Tonight you're going to have fun. Being a good girl all the time has gotten boring. Besides it's your last year in highschool, better live it up.

“Dude, of course I came. No way in hell was I going to miss watching you make an ass out of yourself.” You say jokingly and force a large gulp of your drink down.

Fuck, it was strong but all the better to get you quickly to the level Jisung was on. He wasn't just tipsy either, a lit rolled joint rested in-between two of his long fingers. The embers softly glowed in the darkened basement of the house the party was held. Some girl you barely knew but her parents were cool. Staying upstairs and even supplying the drinks. As long as no one was driving, the way they saw it, it was better we were safely doing it here rather than out on the streets.

“Oh come on y/n when do I ever make a fool of myself?” Jisung asks, spreading his arms wide and a bit of his drink splashes onto his arm.

Covering your mouth and laughing behind your hand at your high and drunk friend, who you were madly in love with, you pointed your cup in his direction as to prove your point. “I rest my case.”

Stealing the joint from his fingers you put it up to your lips and inhale deeply. His eyes watch the way your lips cover the end of it, the way they tighten around it to inhale the smoke that heats your tongue and throat. He's transfixed, it seems, completely forgetting what you two were talking about. Instead, thoughts of your lips sucking his cock just like that flashes in his mind. His fuzzy mind wanders, imagining scenarios of you down on your knees in front of him while he's giving every drop of him.

When you lean your head back, eyes towards the purple and orange Halloween lights strung up on the ceiling and exhale the smoke, Jisung's eyes find their way to your neck. His gaze travels to your collarbone and down to the black v-neck T-shirt you wore with skeleton hands over where your breast lay nestled away underneath. Lingering eyes notice the way your chest rises and falls with each breath and how delectable your cleavage looks in that shirt. He can't help his thoughts. You've been the cause of all his wet dreams.

Of course you don't notice a thing. In your mind you think he doesn't notice your body, you think he doesn't see the way your tight jeans hug curves. Why would he? You think, taking another puff and another. I'm probably just one of the bros to him.

“Woah, woah, woah. Bro take it easy.” Jisung says chuckling and taking the joint back from you.

His words only confirm your thoughts. Yeah, we're just bros… just friends. You roll your eyes and with an already cloudy brain you chug your drink. It burns going down but the feeling is better than the feeling of unrequited love.

“I need another drink. Where'd you get this?” You wonder with eyes scanning the party.

Bodies pressed close together as they dance. Practically fucking in the middle of the room to the loud music that plays with its heavy bass. But you don't see the drinks. Looking back at your friend he's just staring at you with his lips parted. Raising an eyebrow you silently question his weird behavior only for him to smirk at you before continuing to smoke.

“Follow me lovely.” He says, using the age old nickname he gave you years ago.

Every time he calls you that you swear your panties become instantly drenched and with your head swimming in alcohol and weed, the fantasies of you and him run rampant in that cloudy heavy head of yours. He leads you between the throngs of your classmates who are equally fucked up as you are or more to the kitchen. It becomes hotter the further you move into the basement yet entering the kitchen the breeze through the open window feels great on your already heated skin. Various bottles of alcohol are lined up on the counter in the middle and next to the fridge there's different types of sodas and juice. Reaching a hand out you go straight to the watermelon vodka, smirking when your hand wraps around the glass. Jisung loves watermelon. Watermelon flavored anything really. You often wonder if you were to kiss him would he taste like watermelon? Sweet and juicy like the red flesh of the fruit.

Knocking back a couple of more drinks and even getting a fresh joint all to yourself, courtesy of Felix, a friend of yours and Jisungs, you feel… free. Both light and heavy at the same time. Every beat and every bass of whatever song that plays you swear you can feel. Really feel it in your bones. The feeling is heavenly. Leaning back on your elbows against the counter of the kitchen's island, you listen to Jisung and Hyunjin -another friend- talk about the new Call of Duty game that dropped last week.

“Did you see the tits on that hot redhead in the campaign?” Hyunjin says dramatically, covering his face with both hands and dragging them down.

You just laugh and flick some of the ash off the end of your joint into an abandoned cup of water. Watching it sink to the bottom of the cup you bring your own up to your mouth and drink deeply.

“Oh fuck yeah I saw those babies. Although those tits don't come close to y/n’s.” You hear Jisung say and you almost spit out your drink. Wide eyed and coughing up a lung you look at the two boys as they throw their heads back laughing.

“Shit, you should've seen your face. I thought you were going to pass out for a second there y/n.” Jisung laughs, patting you on your back.

“Well excuse me. I didn't expect my tits to come up in a conversation.”

He chuckles again and his hands begin to rub your back in small circles. His fingers sprawled out wide and you're hyper aware of the heat emitting from his palm as well as his body that's pressed up close to the side of you. Hyunjin isn't paying attention to either of you by now. His phone is his top priority as his fingers fly over the screen texting someone.

“I can't help it if you got nice tits lovely.” Jisung whispers in your ear causing you to shiver.

He takes your joint and holds it out for you to take a drag. Swallowing hard and wetting your lips you lean forward, eyes on him and cover the end with your lips. He watches you inhale deep and when you turn to blow the smoke out he takes a hit as well.

“Dance with me?” he asks you abruptly, taking your hand in his. Dropping the joint into Hyunjin's hand on the way out of the kitchen he guides you to the middle of the makeshift dance floor.

What the fuck? I know I'm pretty shitfaced but am I hallucinating now?

That thought repeats in your head the entire time Jisung dances with you. You're convinced that you imagined the entire conversation in your intoxicated state and start to move your body to the music. Eyes closed, hips swaying left and right, head slowly bobbing to the beat of Chase Atlantic's Slow Down. You're singing along with the sensual and suggestive lyrics when you feel a pair of hot hands on your skin just below the hem of your shirt. Eyes fly open in surprise but when you turn to look at the person who's now pulling you into them your pulse quickens. Jisung's lips are close to your own and you can smell the watermelon vodka you and him drank all night. Fingers pressing into your hips he encourages you to keep dancing, willing you to grind your ass against him.

Too faded in your mind to feel any ounce of nervousness you'd have on a normal day you go all out. Hips swirling in a circular motion you continue to dance pushing your ass against him. He moves with you matching your movements, bodies rolling together. The hardness in his black jeans is unmistakable and it only makes you want him even more than you ever have. For seven years you harbored your secret crush on him and for 3 of those years you lusted after him. Nights in your bedroom alone you'd moan into your pillow crying his name over and over imagining his fingers rubbing your velvety walls instead of your own. The very fingers that tease and caress your skin as they make their way to your belly.

Needing to see his face, because part of you still believes that you're passed out somewhere dreaming, you look back at him and the sight breaks something in you. Maybe it's the walls you kept up in order to not get hurt, maybe it's your sanity, you don't don't really know. All you know is that you need him. You need to feel the stiffness that's clothed and pressed on your ass inside of you.

Jisung's eyes land on your lips before he slowly brings them back up to look at you. Fuck it, you do what you've dreamt about doing and kiss him. It's blissful and for a moment it's sweet. His lips taste exactly like you thought. Watermelon. It's only when the hand that rests on your stomach travels south that the kiss intensifies. It becomes messy, hot and hurried. He cups your sex over your jeans and you moan on his mouth.

As if he wasn't already hard, you feel his cock stiffen more and he groans softly on your lips. The sound carries its way inside of you down to your feet. The bodies around you fade away, leaving just the two of you in a intimate, private bubble. Holding onto you tightly he pushes himself hard into as if he could penetrate you through all the layers of clothing that currently keep you two from actually fucking right there in front of half the senior class. This teasing, it's an excruciating sort of sensation.

“Fuck me Jisung.” You beg, “Fuck me hard.”

“Shit.” He growls.

He doesn't hesitate, doesn't even let go of the hold he has on your waist when he pulls you into the kitchen and out the glass door into the backyard. There's not a lot of people out here but they're just a blur to you while you get dragged into the dimly lit garage through a door on the side of the house. Only thing illuminating the space is a large bug zapper. The soft neon purple light bounces off the two cars and random objects, casting strange shadows on the walls. You're jerked forward into Jisung's arms and his lips are on yours again. His hands palm your ass while his tongue dances with yours.

“Mm baby, fuck why do your lips taste so good?”

His words, dripping with lust, fall from his mouth. You don't get a chance to come up with some witty or stupid reply because he's spinning you around and bending you over the hood of a black mustang. The hood is cool to the touch from the late October night air but your body is scorching. Fumbling, drunk fingers clumsily undo the button on your jeans, making quick work on the zipper next. Doesn't take long for his pants and yours to be a pool of denim around the pair of your ankles.

His hand comes crashing down over your ass smacking it once making you gasp in shock. He moans appreciatively, licking his lower lip watching your skin turn pink. One hand palming where the strike connected he uses his other hand to guide the leaking tip of his cock to your opening.

“Damn you're so wet.” He shuddered, rubbing himself in-between your folds.

“J- just for you, Ji.” You purr.

“Yeah baby? You get this wet for me all the time?”

You nod your head in response. Speech becomes increasingly difficult the more he teases your cunt and rubbing himself over your clit. When he rams into you suddenly the sound that leaves you is so foreign to you that you aren't even sure it came from you. This strangle whimpering cry seems to only make Jisung crazier. He's driving into with so much force that the car rocks underneath you. He's so thick and the feeling of him stretching you wide, has you feeling higher than any strain of weed you've had.

“F- fuck y/n... Why do you feel so good?” He hisses, pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside of you.

You can't speak. All you can do is moan and whimper incoherently, watching your breath fog the shiny black surface of the car. His balls slap against your clit each time his length disappears inside of you. He isn't quiet either, he doesn't shy away from moaning your name praising you or telling how good you feel on his dick. Your name is repeated like a mantra.

“Jisung, fuck!” You manage to cry out clawing at the smooth surface below you.

“That's my girl. Keep talking lovely. I wanna hear you. Wanna hear your sexy voice.” Rolling his hip he slams into at such an angle your legs begin to shake.

“Don't- don't stop, shit. I'm so close Sungie. Fuck, your cock feels so good inside of me mmm.” Your words push him closer to the edge and his fingers dig painfully into your hips.

Doesn't matter though, chasing the climax that's building quickly inside of you is what matters. Feeling Jisung's cock slide in and out of you creating this beautiful slippery sound when your bodies connect…. you don't know how you'll ever get enough of this. With a shuddering breath you squeeze your eyes shut so tight that you start seeing specks of white lights flashing behind your lids. Your skin prickles and your walls clench down around him pulling a strained groan from him as your orgasm crashes through you. Burying your face in the crook of your arm you attempt to muffle your anguish moans. Jisung pumps into you at a frenzied pace groaning and grunting and cumming with you at the same time.

“Ah, y/n, y/n! Shit, fuck, baby!

Your pussy pulsates milking his cock for every drop of cum that he gives you, filling you up to the point that some starts to drip down your inner thigh. Your legs feel like jelly and the sound of your shared heavy breathing and panting seems to somehow sync with the rhythm of the muffled music playing from inside the house. Groaning he slides out of and you shiver feeling the cold hit your ass.

“I've wanted to do that for a long time.” Jisung admits softly after your clothes are back in place.

The sudden confession makes you feel suddenly shy as if he wasn't just rearranging your guts one minute ago. With gentle hands he cups your face and places a sweet and tender kiss to your lips. When he pulls back from you his eyes blaze with unspoken words that you feel in your chest. With the high from the weed gone and the buzz slowly wearing off it becomes clear that this wasn't a one time thing. The love you thought was one sided wasn't and he wanted to be clear about that, even if he couldn't put it into words right now.

“Come back to my place? I don't want the night to end yet.” His hands find their way to yours intertwining your fingers together. “My parents aren't home.” He adds with a cocky smirk.

A giggle bubbles up from you and you roll your eyes playfully. “Can't get enough can you Ji?” You tease, finding it easy to still have the best friend vibes between you.

“Lovely, the way you felt on my dick, I don't think I'll ever get enough.” He confesses and picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder carrying out of the garage into the Halloween night air.

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wordsbymae · 1 month

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Saviour Complex- goddess!Reader x Warrior

Plot: Reader is a young goddess, still yet to come into her full power. The patron goddess of innocence and compassion, she resides deep within the forest, caring for any lost souls who come her way. Destruction finds its way to her lands, as the Emperor's men flood the forest, tasked with cutting down anyone who refuses to denounce their heathen ways. One warrior finds the reader's temple, and tasks himself with 'saving' the reader from herself.

TW: Loosely based on posiden and medusa, which if you know is a trigger warning all on its on, SA, Implied non/con, talks of religion and religious genocide. Neither the warrior's or reader's religions (so to speak) are actual practised or once practiced religions. They are completely made up. Sexual talk. This fic is from the warrior's point of view so very much misogynistic, ignorant, and him being a dick. Also breeding is mentioned (a few times, opps) I see the warrior as Pedro Pascal as Pero Trovar

Notes: This was meant to be priestess reader but I liked this idea better. Enjoy!

He would hardly call the temple before him a temple. It was nothing more than some stones and arches pilled together, hidden under the canopy of a great oak. It was not as old as the other temples he and his comrades had pulled down. The other's, older and more grand than the one in front of him, were infested by savage heathens. They had been dozens of them milling around the great stone pillars. Some leaving tokens of good faith, other's seeming to be in constant service to their wild gods.

This land he found himself in was not under the watchful gaze of the Eye. Nor were they subjects of the Emperor. Instead they worshipped petty gods and goddesses, born from mortal parent's, given gifts of power from Mother Wild. The gifts given depended on their actions as growing gods. Raised as mortals until their 20th nameday, when Mother Wild gives them her final gift, immortality. At least, immortality to a point.

They age as mortals do, but the hands of time pass ever slowly by. As they watch their family and friends grow grey and old, only days have the wild gods aged. It is said that they can one day grow old, grey and tired, succumbing to death as all living things do. But none had ever yet to reach such an age. Gods were able to be killed but it took strength and numbers to do so, and the sword of Caleen, the first wild god ever born. Caleen's own blood had been mixed with the metal, creating a sword capable of penetrating through the gifts given to them. The sword, gifted to him by the Emperor, lay dormant in its sheath by the warrior's side. It was the only method known to truly kill a wild god.

Until then, the only way to defeat a god without the sword was to force them to act in a way that went against their patronage. Salios, once god of law and order, had his gifts ripped from him by Mother Wild, when he unjustly killed an innocent man. Without his gifts, age and sickness came for him thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of years before he should have perished as a god. Yet such an act had not occurred for hundreds of years, least of all forced by human hand. So these wild gods reigned over their forgotten wood, almighty in power and reverence.

It was heresy.

These 'almighty' beings were nothing but demons, given unholy power by the forces of darkness. Born human, yet corrupted by power. It was unnatural, it was all that went against the teachings of the Eye. Humans were sinful creatures, and the more power one had, the more corrupted they became.

The warrior grimaced as he walked up to the temple. A stupid move if he was being honest. He was here alone after being separated from his battalion. But he needed a place to shelter the coming storm, the air thick with the scent of rain. He would rather face a barbarian than freeze in the wilderness. The temple seemed to be empty, no worshippers leaving offers or priests caring after the god. It was quiet and lonesome. Yet strangely welcoming. He could feel warmth emerging from inside the temple, the scent of delicate florals dancing through the air.

He hesitated at the threshold of the temple, it was clean and well looked after. The walls were lined with soft candlelight, and murals of prancing deer and maidens dancing through the woods. A statue of a woman stood silent in the middle, bathed in dark sunlight by a round hole in the roof. The statue was covered in crowns of flowers. Some placed on her bowed head, others hooked onto her arms as they reach outwards, palms facing towards the sky. Gifts of pearls, lilies and feathers of pure white were placed delicately at the foot of the statue.

He did not care to learn these savage gods names. There were hundreds of them, some more powerful than others. Some given patronage over small, worthless things. He had laughed for hours when he discovered that there was a patron god of footprints. Whoever this temple was erected for, was loved yes, but not revered.

The warrior walks deeper into the temple, becoming enveloped in a sense of peace and compassion at the care given to this little goddess. He grunts in frustration, these stupid gods and their stupid 'gifts'. When he and his brothers in arms desecrated the patron god of fear's temple, the battle was nearly lost as they nearly fell to the wild gods powers. Fear racing through their ranks. Just being in the presence of a god was enough for their powers to linger in the air, effecting a mortal humans thoughts and feelings.

This little goddess must still be here.

Rain began to fall from the heavens, it came down with a fury. Yet, the rain that fell through the hole came down in fat, gentle drops upon the statue of the goddess. Water drippled down her stone face, the warrior had to admit this little goddess was quite the beauty. If her statue was anything to go by. He walks deeper into the sanctuary, closer towards the statue. He stops just in front of her image, breathing in deeper at what he can only imagine is her scent, sweet yet comforting, there was an earthiness to it too. He reaches out to caress the stone cheek of his little goddess. What a pretty thing she was.

He kneels to take in the sight of the gifts offered to her. There were the pearls, feathers and lilies he had seen before. But now he could see spools of white wool, wrapped in ribbon, and carvings of hearts, flowers and dozens of names circling the statue.

Lightly touching the most prominent of the carved names, he allowed himself a grin. He had found the wild goddess of innocence and compassion.

He had found you.

You were the youngest of the gods, only decades since you were gifted your immortality. Yet, you had quickly become beloved by your worshippers. The patron goddess of innocence and compassion, you resided deep within the forgotten woods, caring for the animals of the forest and any travellers who crossed your path. It is said that only those in needing of help or guidance, and children looking for a home could find you. The delicate smell of flowers leading the way to your temple. The names carved upon the stone at your feet were those you had cared for over the years. Travellers lost and afraid. Children without parents or care. Women hiding from vengeful men. And men scarred by life itself. All found their way to you, to your compassionate and pure hands.

You were the last of the major gods that the warrior and his men were yet to find. Your brothers and sisters before you had fallen. Some had run like cowards leaving their temples, and their followers, to burn into the night. Others, slaughtered by his hand. Time may only harm the wild gods so much, but Caleen's sword is a deadlier foe than time itself. It filled him with joy remembering plunging Caleen's own sword into the first wild god's heart. He was the first of the wild gods and as such he was the first to fall.

The warrior stood to his full height quickly as soft footsteps made their way through the temple. They came to a stop, the owner hidden by darkness still.

Outside the storm raged on.

"That you little goddess?" the warrior jested, hand coming to rest lazily on his sword's pummel. He stepped around the statue, giving a slight kick at a doll that was laid carefully at its feet.

The sound of hesitant shuffling could be heard. His little goddess was nervous.

"May I see your face, dear one? I have come a long, long way to find you. I wish not to leave this place without seeing your face, it would break this poor soldiers heart" he pouted in fake hurt, creeping towards you as a wolf moves closer to its prey.

"Who are you?" you ask, voice calm and strong. Yet, he could sense fear in your words.

"Just a poor soldier, a lost traveller if you will. Seeking the care and compassion of your grace" he answers, bowing slightly. He toys with his pummel, he had a feeling he would not need to draw it this day.

"Are you hurt?" you plead, taking a closer step towards him, your sense of empathy and compassion shinning through.

The warrior saw his chance, and he was going to take it.

"Not physically your grace, but I have not yet broken my fast or had a drop of water in days." he furrows his brow, grimacing and holding his stomach with his free hand.

"Oh! Your poor thing!" you exclaim, rushing forward to meet him. Once in the light, the warrior damned the creator of the sculpture for failing to capture your beauty. The statue was nothing in comparison to you. Your hair was thick and healthy, framing your face perfectly. Your skin soft and supple. Lips dewy and oh so kissable.

Your were the most beautiful woman he had seen in his entire life.

And here you were, all his for the taking. You were dressed as a goddess deemed fit, perfectly tailored and fetchingly so. But all he could think about was ripping it from you in a daze of lust. You rushed up to him and guided him deeper into your temple. He only realised that the temple was much larger than it seemed when he was outside. These wild gods and their tricks. You cooed to him the entire time. Stating there would be a warm bath and fresh fruit and clear spring water for him in his room. You hadn't even noticed his weapon, or if you had, you truly were the patron god of innocence.

He allowed you to fuss over him. Allowed you to lead him deeper into your temple, until you reached an open court yard, filled with plants of all colours and sizes, soft grass below his feet. At one end a statue of Mother Wild stood, vines and flowers blooming across her figure. In the centre of it was a beautiful flowering tree, more gifts had been left here to.

He stopped you from leading him further on, his eyes set on this tree. There was magic in its very fibre, unnatural power. He could feel it.

"Everything ok soldier?" you try, hand coming to rest on his back. He flinches at the contact, it was so soft and kind. No one had touched him with such care before.

"What is this tree?" he turns to you.

"Oh! Its a magnolia tree" you grin

"No, I know that, why is it here, and why.." he stops himself, he was going to ask you why he felt power radiating from it. "why are there gifts at its base."

You give him a soft smile, gently grabbing his hand you lead you to its base. You softly bring yourself and him to the ground. White flowers fell softly to the ground. You reached a hand out to touch the bark, closing your eyes, before reopening them to look at the warrior.

"Here, give me your hand"

Without thought he places his hand in yours.

What wicked spell have you put him under.

And why does he not care to know.

With your gentle touch on his, the warrior felt heat rise deep inside him. You placed his hand on the bark, yours overlapping his.

"Do you feel it?" you whisper, voice soft and kind.

Of course he could feel it. Pure innocence, unbridled compassion and love.

He hated it.

"This tree is an extension of myself. The day I was born, when my parent's realised who and what I was, they planted this tree. They understood that they and all those who I love would grow old, die and leave me alone. This was their way of giving me a companion. The day I received my gifts and my patronage was the day I laid my parents to rest under this tree's shadow."

He watches in silence as tears well up in your eyes.

"I hadn't even turned four and ten springs yet, when...when they attacked. They were raiders from the south. Brutes, really. My parent's told me to flee, but there were younger children, pregnant women and injured men who couldn't flee, or didn't know where to flee to. So while the warriors in my village tried the best they could to defend us. I went back and forth between this tree and the village, carrying, dragging and leading all those I could to the safety of the great oak that shadows my temple. When I went back the last time, there was nothing left. Our warriors were slain and my parents...."

You break off, tears trickling down. He feels the sudden urge to wipe them from your cheek. He lets himself have the honour of doing so, and your let yourself have the pleasure of him touching you.

"Anyway, there wasn't much else I could do, so I brought them here, buried them, and cared for the survivors the best I could. It was then I was given my gifts, for my compassion for my people and my innocence in the face of death, I was given my patronage. We rebuilt our village, and life was good. But the years after I was given my final gift, were... difficult to say the least. Watching my friends grow old, have families of their own. Then watching their children age and grow grey. I... it was difficult."

You give him a pointed stare, now turning your back onto the tree and rested upon it. He removes his hand from the bark, mirroring your actions.

"Can I tell you a secret?" you plea, eyes big and soft.

"Of course my little goddess, I will take it to my grave." he sternly replies, practically giving you his oath as a holy warrior of the Eye. You thought he was joking, jesting with you after such an emotional story. You gave him a giggle and playfully smacked his chest.

"No need for that, but thank you." you trail off, thoughts of long ago in mind. He nudges you softly, eager to learn your secret.

You look back up and him and sigh, turning off into space.

"Sometimes, when I have no one to look after, and its been months, sometimes years, even, since someone has walked through my temple's door. I wish I wasn't born a goddess. I wish I could grow old, fall in love, marry, have children of my own." you look down, playing with your hands.

The warrior was troubled, yet excitement grew. You could be saved. You wished to be without the corruption of the dark forces that ran through your very being.

"But you could start a family. I have heard tales of demigods"

"Yes, but I can't" you stress turning to him. "I am the goddess of innocence, not just compassion. To bare a child would mean I am no longer innocent, therefore my powers would be stripped from me. I would be mortal again."

You huff in frustration. Even if you were able to have a child, it would still grow old, and you would be left to bury another one of your kin below your beloved tree.

The warrior was delighted. Overjoyed, perfectly happy with this news. Some gods had gifts that were hard to strip from them. How do you make the god of footprints go against footprints? Cut off their feet? Unless....

No he's getting distracted. Here he was being given his own gift, from his god. The Eye was testing him, for sure. Allow a wild goddess to continue her wicked magic, or save the mortal within. You already told him you wished to be free of your curse, the burden placed on you the moment you were born. All he had to do was take your maidenhead. Put his seed in your womb and watch it grow. And what a fine mother you would be. You had spent decades being a mother to hundreds, so what more a burden would a few of your own be. In fact he was sure your would revile in it.

You were practically begging him to fill you with his seed, with those big, soft eyes and those curves that screamed at him to take you. He was without a wife, he would have to break you in for sure. You were a wild one of course. But with a few whelps to look after and one surely in your belly, how much could you defy him?

His cock began to stir. His eyes laden with lust. You look up at him once more, brow furrowing at his darkened eyes.

"Is everything okay soldier?" you sweetly ask, actually concerned for his wellbeing.

"Let me give you the life you want, little heathen" he begs, pushing you down onto the soft grass below the tree.

"What? No! Get off!" you plead, pushing against him. He tightens his grip on your wrists.

"Give me the honour of cleansing you of your dark powers, instead allow me to gift you the honour of carrying my seed." He growls, coming down to give you a lust filled kiss.

You bite his tongue with a vengeance, the taste of blood trickles onto your tongue.

"Mother!" you scream, turning onto your belly. Reaching for the silent statue of Mother Wild. She sat impartial, watching silent and cold. You begin to sob, as the warrior pulls your hips and ass into his crotch.

"Shh, shh little goddess, it will all be over soon. You shall be my sweet wife and you shall grow fat with my child." he comforts, his words tasting like iron on your lips.

"No!" you cry, elbowing him in the nose. You get up to run, straight towards Mother Wild, you drop in front of her and beg for her help.

"Help me Mother Wild. Please!"

You were only gifted the power of healing and other small gifts that now seem useless. What could were they against a man like this? The warrior gets up with blood streaming down his chin.

"My! The little heathen has some bite, huh" he sneers, pulling his sword from its sheath. You turn to look at him in fear, surely that was not what you think it is.

"Recognise this? I drove it through your first wild gods heart, and many more of your brother and sisters since then. I wish not to harm you little goddess, but if you do not renounce your claim to your wicked birth right, then I will be forced to kill you." He almost grins at the sight of you kneeling and afraid.

'That's it heathen, fear me, fear the holy Eye.'

You turn to Mother Wild once more, pleading and begging for protection.

Nothing happens.

You sob as you are ripped from your place by the statue and dragged back to the ground under your tree. You are pushed onto the soft grass, for a moment you forget what is happening, and you are young again, watching the sky through the leaves of your tree. Your parents are still alive, you had yet to be given your gifts, and you can kid yourself into thinking life will be like this forever. You are broken from your daze as Caleen's sword is plunged into the soft dirt by your head, and you are quickly reminded what madness you found yourself in. You stare up at the warrior in front of you, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. He kneels down onto you. His blood drools out of his mouth, dripping down his chin. His eyes are filled with lust and pride.

What an evil, wicked man.

You choke back a sob in fear of what is to happen next.

"My dear one, do not cry for the life you are renouncing, cry with joy for the life we are to create." He shushes you gently, a rough hand caressing your tear stained cheeks.

"What poetry is this, that you should lose your gift of innocence the very place it was given"

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere prompts #yandere x female reader #yandere male x reader #oc yandere #warrior yandere #breeding tw #tw sa #fem!reader #soldier yandere

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angel-eyes05 · 11 months

Text

to leave the warmest bed i've ever known (part 4)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

pairing: spider-woman!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: so much time has passed since you last saw each other. will old feelings come up again once you two find each other again?

warnings: HUGE ATSV SPOILERS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THIS MOVIE, this is so against canon its insane, NSFW (we did it guys we're finally here), switch!reader and switch!miguel, blood mention, fang and claws play, p in v unprotected, cumplay, angsty (i couldnt help it), it goes, angst, smut, and then angsty fluff at the end youre welcome

word count: 3.2k

notes: for some reason, it didn't let me tag as many people who wanted to be on the taglist, so if i didn't end up tagging you for the final part, sorry idk what went wrong

also forgive me i was listening to boygenius while writing the parts leading up to the smut so it might get a little angsty there (i cant help it) (miguel and y/n are so bite the hand and cool about it core)

but then i balanced it out by listening to frank ocean (pyramids specifically) while writing the smut so you're welcome

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Three years had passed. Three years since you finally found Miles, defeated The Spot, and caused the collapse of the Spider Society. Everyone had gone back to their separate dimensions, but were able to still visit each other with their still working portal watches. Miles and Gwen specifically were very happy. Peter B. went back home to live with MJ and Mayday, sending you frequent pictures of Mayday to keep you updates. You were different. You didn’t return to your home world. You didn’t necessarily have anyone to return to per se. Instead, you decided to hop between dimensions, seeing what crime there was to fight in cities that didn’t have anyone to protect it. It was enough to keep you occupied, and as long as your watch still worked, you had the option to stop if you wanted to. Life was nice. You finally had found peace.

But something felt off. Something thudding in the back of your head. Because even though you had been at peace for three years, it had also been three years since you saw him. You had seen him during the final showdown between all of Spider Society, but your team had managed to keep you two apart, due to fear for your safety. After the fight was over, you two had made eye contact with each other a couple of times, but never approached each other. If you were being honest, you were still scared of him at that point, even seeing him tied up there on the floor waiting for someone to deal with him.

It took a while for your gashes to heal, the ones on your back taking much longer to turn into scars than the ones on your tricep and thigh. The marks on your body were frequent reminders of him and the damage he’s caused to your life. Part of you hated him for it. But most of you just missed him. Unlike Jess, who sent you pictures of her baby every now and then, neither of you had reached out to the other. It was crazy how five years of shared history can be thrown to the ground so quickly.

Right now, you were sitting on the railing of your apartment balcony. For the past month or so, you decided to park it in Earth-3819. There wasn’t much crime going on there, so it was a nice place to stop when you needed a break. Your feet dangled off the edge of the railing, as you looked out to see the sunset on the skyline. The wind blew faintly at your face, causing strands of hair to fall out of your high bun. You had been thinking more about him recently, wondering if he was feeling the same way you were.

Almost as if you manifested it, you heard the sliding glass door from your bedroom slide open. Startled, you quickly turned around, ready just in case it was an attacker.

It was much worse than an attacker.

You mouth laid agape as his massive shadow covered your smaller body. Feelings that laid dormant for the past three years suddenly erupting in your stomach. You looked up to the roof of your building as a signal to meet you up there, as you attached a web to the top and swung up there.

Once you were both at the top, you faced your back to him to take time to catch your breath. Your emotions were all over the place right now. “You’re really hard to find, you know,” he said trying to break the silence. You wanted to throw up. As much as you hoped this moment would come, you never realized how unprepared you would be if it ever did. You couldn’t bare to look at him right now, knowing you would lose control of yourself if you did. “You look…good.” How would he know, he only saw your face for a second before you bolted off. You both stood there, the wind growing louder and louder with each second you both stayed silent.

All of your senses came to a freeze once you felt his hand place itself on your shoulder, causing a flinch from you. “I wanted to find you again, mi vida,” he said in that rich, deep, smooth tone of his that drives you crazy. You could tell he was getting closer when you felt the hairs on your neck stand up from him breathing on them. “I missed you, and I was hoping we could pick up where we left off,” he said into the crook of your neck and began to plant kisses there. You broke free from his grasp by the third kiss he left. “No no no no no, no we can’t. It’s not that simple Miguel,” you said, pinching your bridge and sighing. There's no way he could've thought it would be this easy. He's not this stupid….is he?

“Listen amor, I’m sorry for everything that happened. But the past is the past.” He walked closer to you. “And I want my future with you.” He was up against you again. This time instead of your shoulder, he dragged his finger up and down your back in an almost hypnotic motion. God, you wanted him so bad, you wanted it to be this simple. That he can just apologize and everything could be okay. But you were reminded it couldn't be that way once his finger hit a pressure point in your scar. You swatted your hands in the air and walked away from him again. “No Miguel, that's not how this works. You can just do the things you've done to me and just say sorry and expect it to fix everything. You're not a child.”

Once you turned around to face him, you saw him standing there like a lost puppy. You just wish he could see what you were talking about. “Don't act like you didn't do horrible things then too. I saw what you did to Jess.” “Don't turn this onto me Miguel. This is about you.” You walked up to him and pressed your finger into his chest. “This is about you, and the horrible things you've done to me! I can't even take a shower anymore without looking at myself in the mirror and seeing your damage!” You lifted up your shirt sleeve. “You did this! This was all you!” Miguel looks down at you with sympathetic eyes as your eyes began to well up.

“And you can’t just barge in on this life I’ve made for myself and ask for me back because I won't go with you!” You were fully crying at this point, desperately trying to get your words out between sobs and lightly punching at Miguel's chest while he just stared at you. “Because I hate you Miguel! I hate you, okay!” You couldn't manage to talk anymore, overcome with the emotions he caused you to feel. You rested your head on his chest as you continued to sob. He wrapped his arms around you, causing you to do the same to him immediately. You sat there crying into his arms for about a minute, until he lifted up your chin with his finger.

“I’m so sorry I did this to you mi princesa. I’m so sorry. But I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.” Overtaken by emotion, you grab his face and crash your lips into his. Almost instinctively, his hands find a home onto your hips. You pull away for a second. “Just stop talking already,” you say breathlessly. He rushes to connect the two of your lips again, already going as far as to slip his tongue in between your lips. He’s so passionate about everything he does. His hands hold a tight grip on your body as his tongue explores your mouth. Almost like he’s hungry for you. No, not hungry. Starving. Famished. Three years apart was too much for him to stand without you by his side or in his bed. He needed you desperately. Like his life depended on if he was going to be able to fuck you into your bed tonight or not.

He let out moans as your hands ran through and tugged on his hair. But as soon as his claws came out and dug into your hips, you pulled your mouth off of his, a string of saliva still connecting you two. “No claws Miguel. Bring them out again, and its over okay.” You still weren’t mentally over his attack against you. He nods. “Of course, baby.” With that said, you let go of him to walk over to the edge of the building. Once your at the edge, you signal him over. He follows, almost as if he’s under some spell. You attach one of your webs to your balcony railing below and use it as a guide to fall down to it. You land on your balcony, Miguel following close behind as you open the sliding door to your bedroom.

After you close the door and blinds, you turn to find Miguel almost hovering over you. He looked like some kind of lost dog the way he kept following you around, begging for more of you. You gently kiss him and guide him over to your bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed and begins to pull your hoodie off your head as you help him take off his suit. Once your sweatpants are off as well, you gently push him onto his back on your bed. Goosebumps form all over your body, partially from exposure to the cold air in your room, and partially from seeing him like this underneath you again. Finally, you take his already hard cock, and slide it into your hole, causing a rough groan out of him as you begin to rock on his hips.

You take things nice and slow while you’re in control, knowing the moment you get sloppy he’ll start to take over for you. You kissed down his neck and collarbone as you rode him, with him gripping hard at your back and your hips. “Nng, m-missed you s-so much amor,” he groaned out. “Tan hermosa.” You begin to speed your thrusting, tugging at his hair to get strained noises out of him. His hands make their way up to your back, digging into your skin. But your quick to rip his hands out of your back and pin them above his head once his talons come out again, into your back this time. You also take your lips off of his and stop your thrusting.

Miguel searched your face for some kind of explanation to the sudden stop, to find you panting and nearly frozen still. You’re taken back to that fight, a result from his claws finding a way into your scars. You’re pulled back to reality by Miguel’s voice. “Amor, que paso?” he asks with concern. You quickly wipe the sweat off your face and look into his beautiful crimson eyes. You wanted to forget the pain he caused you all those years ago, but unfortunately you couldn’t. But, you were willing to forgive him though. “Nothing Miggy,” you say gently, pressing a soft kiss onto his lips. He tries to move his hands back onto you, but finds his hands still trapped to the headboard. He looks at you confused. “What did I say about the claws, Miguel.”

“Ay, baby you know its hard for me to control them around you,” he says, slightly annoyed, driven by the need to touch you again. “Well you’re going to need to try to okay? For now though, you’re going to stay like this.” His face drops, and he makes a sound almost like a whine. “Ay coño, lo siento péro you don’t need to punish me.” You felt powerful hearing him whine and beg like this. You were denying a starving man of his woman, his source of energy.

Arms squirmed in your hand, as you began to rock on top of him again. You made sure to not kiss him either, moving away whenever he would try to place his mouth onto yours. He whined as you picked up your speed, desperate to feel you again. “P-please, let me go cariño.” You moved your mouth down and whispered in his ear, running your finger up and down his stomach, causing him to melt under you and whimper like a madman. “Not just yet,” you whispered seductively, sending extra chills down his spine and into his stomach when you bit into his ear lobe.

Overcome with your own urge to feel him, you accidentally let go of his hands and moved yours to grab hold of each of his pecs as you planted kisses over his sternum. Suddenly, you’re overswept as Miguel is freed and takes control over the situation. “I love you amor, but you have to let me touch your,” he says in that beautiful, rich tone of his before he goes at his own pace: slamming himself into you.

He goes much faster than you did, and you almost come there on the spot as he nearly breaks your bed with his ferocity. You grip onto his enormous triceps for leverage as you let out a series of incoherent moans. “You like that, huh?” he pants out. You shove your lips onto his to get him to stop talking. “I-if you’re gonna do this, n-ngh, you’re gonna have to s-hh-ut up,” you manage to get out in between your almost inhumane sounds. He nods and shoves his tongue into your mouth, exploring the insides of your cheeks while his tip slams into your walls, causing that white heat to begin to build up in your stomach.

His hands swarm across your body, making up for lost time before, and eventually land on your breasts as he begins to palm at them. Just as you thought he couldn’t arouse you any more than he already has, he moves his mouth along your jawline, down to your neck, and begins to mark it with kisses and slight sucking. “I-I missed you too, Miggy.”

That nickname you had for him drove him crazy. So crazy in fact, his next move was to drive his fangs into your neck, making sure to not let his poison seep into your neck. He presses his lips and sucks on the skin on your neck while sinking his fangs deeper into you. You could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, as you held onto his broad shoulders while he basically slammed you into the bed. “Oh Miguel,” you moaned out. He nodded, not able to speak, due to his fangs still being attached to your neck. You could tell he was getting close too with how sloppy his pace was getting.

You’re washed over with bliss when the heat in your stomach finally takes over the rest of your body, almost clawing at Miguel while you come. His hands put more pressure on your breasts as he comes as well, moaning into the softness of your neck. Once you two have both finished, he slowly pulls his teeth out of your neck, and licks up the metallic liquid with his warm, delicate tongue. He slowly pulls his cock out of the sweetness of your cunt and rolls over to lay next to you on the bed, dragging his fingers across your pussy, taking the cum his fingers picked up and putting it in his mouth.

He plants a kiss onto your forehead before saying, “One second, princesa, I’ll be right back,” as he got up to go to the bathroom. He must have been in there for about 10 minutes before coming back into your room and reaching out his hand for yours. You take his hand as he leads you out of bed, reminded of how naked you are when you reveal yourself from the sheets.

He leads you into the bathroom to see that hes drawn a bath for the two of you. You blush slightly at the gesture, as he gets in first and leads you in. The touch of the water numbs your body slightly with the mixture of the cold room to the hot bath water. You almost melt as you sink in, laying your back against Miguel’s chest as he wraps his arms around your body. You could fall asleep right here, mixed between the comfort of the bath water, and Miguel’s body finally against yours again. The bathtub was kind of small, so his body was taking up most of the space, causing him to basically engulf you.

You were surrounded in him, his lips almost attached to the nape of your nack, his arms consuming your upper half, and his legs intwining with your lower half. He wiggles slightly to reach the soap, puts it in the water to wet it, and lathers it onto your body. First, he washes your arms, rubbing the soap back and forth over your arm hairs, and even under your armpits. Next, he moves to wash your chest. He takes the soap and moves it over your breasts and your underboob, causing you to move in closer to him. His response is to peck kisses into the crook of your neck, getting little giggles out of you. You stop giggling though after he stops kissing you and stays still for a second.

You wait in silence for him to do something. “...Miggy…you okay?” you ask when he doesn’t say anything. You turn your head slightly to see him. Out of your peripherals, you see him staring solemnly at your back. He’s finally seen them. The four almost perfectly placed scars warping across your back. They were huge. And he knows they’re from him. You turned your head back to the front and dug it in between your knees, pushing out your back even more. Miguel delicately traced his fingers over them, as you waited curled up for him to say something. “I’m sorry,” is all he can manage to weakly push out.

You decide to turn your body around to face him, splashing water around in the cramped bathtub while doing so. His eyes are down with sadness creeping over his face. You cup his cheek with your hand and press a loving, gentle kiss onto his lips. You bring his arms over your shoulders and wrap your legs around his hips. You wanted to be engulfed by him. You were so pressed on staying mad at him for so many years that you forgot how much you loved being this close to him. You could hear his heart softly beating as you pressed your head against his chest. He soon wrapped his arms around your body, taking you into him, and dug his head into the crook of your neck, almost as if he was hiding.

You stayed there for a moment before eventually turning back around. You laid your head in a position so you could still see his face if you looked up. You could feel yourself slowly dozing off in his arms. Your last thoughts before you slipped out of consciousness was of how perfect this was.

You had found your home again. Moreso, he found his way to you. And this time, you were never going to let go.

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a/n: i just wanted to say thank you to everyone for sticking around during this series. i know it wasn't meant to be 4 parts and only 2 so i really appreciate everyone who stuck around for the whole thing. make sure to look out for my next thing cause i wanna start writing an enemies to lover oc x miguel thing so please go and support that once thats out. thanks guys!!!!

taglist: @jenniferdixon05207 @sweetanimebakery @azxulaa @daimiyu @vinkar345 @pinkninja200 @luvstich @rin-matsuoka345-blog @lillunna @konniebon @hwanunjin @simp-nerd-16 @chucklefuvk @elwyn7 @haileybxxr @ilovemymomscooking @lansy-4 @maxi-ride @d4rno @callsign-blue @obamnas-soda @sophipet @violentlyneon @d1lf-loverrr @afro-hispwriter @kirke-is-my-name @ilovemiguelohara @lavnderluv @konniebon @msecho19 @kiamewrites

#fanfic #fanfiction #fem!reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse

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nataliasquote · 20 days

Text

Is It All For Nothing? | n romanoff

Summary: You just want a friend. Is that so bad? How is it fair that everyone else gets one but you. What did you do that was so wrong?

Warnings: idk. just depressing stuff ig

Pairings: none. a small bit of Nat x reader but all platonic

wc: 1.3k

notes: I wrote this in 45 mins in one sitting. It’s written in a different pov than usual and idk if it even makes sense. I just typed and didn’t stop until I was done 🤷‍♀️ the idea just came to me and yeah :)

-⧗-

Frankly, being on the sidelines sucked. Everyone knew it yet no matter how many times someone engaged in small talk to be polite or proclaimed they were there to talk to everyone, somehow you were always left out.

It didn’t matter where you were, loneliness followed like a dormant disease. High school sucked, you were a nobody, but thankfully those years were in the past. But your fifteen year old self didn’t realise that your isolation would carry right on over into your adult life.

And sure, it wasn’t all bad. The nights spent chatting with new friends you’d made that day left you on an all time high, but that just made the fall that much harder. And when the low inevitably came, you could only laugh at yourself at your naivety, because why would things suddenly change? You weren’t someone people stuck around for.

Unfortunately, Shield agents were no different. Those in your cohort were nice enough to say hi in the hallway or invite you into group conversations. A couple even chatted with you over lunch. But you knew they only did it because they felt bad. You saw the difference in their demeanor; you were a spy for god’s sake. They were so much happier with their friends, and that didn’t include you, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it did.

There was one agent who’s attention toyed with you that little bit more. Natasha Romanoff was a couple of ranks higher, both in social and training status. But she was always kind, no matter what. You conversed whilst waiting for your training session, mainly her listening as you talked. She was sweet, despite her intimidating facade and before long she had you completely wrapped around your little finger.

For a month, you both chatted any chance you got. If you saw her in the cafeteria, you’d make a beeline for her table, smiling at the other agents as you sat down. She responded to you, her eyes holding yours as you spoke, seeming actually interested in what you had to say. She would joke with you, calling you out with a laugh which sent a flush to your cheeks. You didn’t care what she said, she was talking to you. That’s all that mattered. Maybe this was where your life changed for the better. Evenings that followed those days would be blissful and you would fall asleep with a smile on your face, feeling on top of the world all because of the redheaded Russian.

However, as the weeks went on, days would go by with no contact. At first you just thought she was going on more missions; that was her job after all. But then you’d see that flash of red hair in a meeting room or one of the agents talking about something Natasha had said earlier and it hit you sharply in the throat.

Was she just like everyone else? Playing the pity card, building you up only to leave you hanging once she got bored? Natasha didn’t seem like that kind of person, but had essentially placed her on a pedestal, so of course she could do no wrong. That was your downfall.

Emerging from a debrief with Maria Hill, you tucked a stack of files under your arm and stepped out into the hallway. And there she was, a soft smile on her lips. You reciprocated it and made eye contact, opening your mouth to speak. You hadn't spoken in a few days and you hated to admit it, but you missed her.

But Natasha clearly didn’t feel the same. Her eyes caught yours and then darted to the floor, her feet picking up the pace as she walked past. “I’m sorry Y/n, I’m busy today. We’ll talk later.”

Except she wasn’t busy. Because there she was, standing at the end of the hall laughing with another agent in your cohort. It shouldn’t have been, but it was like a punch to the stomach and you quickly turned around, retreating back into the room you’d left to avoid her seeing you watching her.

You knew that agent. They were friends, everyone saw it. And she was nice enough to you too, but jealousy coursed through your veins and turned you into a green eyed monster.

What did she have that you didn’t? Besides the ability to win Natasha over, obviously. Every single interaction you’d had with the redhead suddenly started replaying in your mind, frantically scanning to see what went wrong. Did you overstep? Were you too pushy? Too clingy? You just wanted a friend, was that so hard to understand? Was it so bad to want?

You thought about texting her, but decided against it. You didn’t want to know the answer. What if your worst fears were confirmed? That she only spoke to you out of pity, and quite frankly didn’t want anything to do with you.

It hurt. It really did. Countless times you wished that she was the one that would change your bad history of making friends. Because when you were around Natasha, nothing else mattered. The days of no contact slipped out of your mind. You’d forgive her for anything in a heartbeat… maybe that was the problem.

You thought the world of her. And she saw that. ‘Never meet your heroes’ that’s what they say, isn’t it? And maybe she wasn’t quite at hero status for you, but you looked up to her. Praising her work when she returned from a successful mission, commenting on the ingenious moves she made to lead her team to victory. She was everything you wanted to be as an agent, with one seriously important factor.

Everyone loved her.

Everyone loved her, and nobody knew you. She was the prize rose and you were behind, stuck in her shadow. They didn’t see you as anyone but the agent who sucked up to Natasha. They didn’t see how hard you worked, how many hours you trained, how much effort you put in. And they never would. Because it was too much. You were a try hard.

A try hard in a room full of effortless people.

Effortless just like that other agent was. She’d been rumoured to move up into Natasha’s ranks and onto her mission team, leaving you struggling in the lower levels. It felt almost childish, yearning after the attention of one single person. But no matter how hard you tried, or how casual you tried to be, Natasha would never see you as anything other than a fan girl.

You knew she was capable of giving you what you desired, you saw it with that other agent. The way they laughed together, developed inside jokes and anecdotal phrases that they brought up in group discussions. You saw the way Natasha’s eyes lit up at the mention of her name, how she gushed over her but also teased her at the same time. Their effortless banter had you choking back tears as you sat one table over, watching with blurry eyes.

You wanted that so badly it hurt.

But if you stopped trying, stopped reaching out, stopped lusting after the perfect friendship you so badly craved with her, would she notice? Or would you fade into the background, silently, without a word. Maybe she would be happy, now that you’re no longer bugging her.

Maybe it’s for the best.

#natasha romanoff #marvel #fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff oneshot #natasha romanoff imagine #friendship angst #marvel angst #black widow #natasha romanoff fanfic #scarlett johansson

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vetteltea · 6 months

Note

congrats on 500 !!!! you deserve it sooo much 🫰🫰

i know you aren’t really a lando girlie….but since you’re so talented,,,can i request strawberry tea w lando & the napping together prompt ? thank you !!!! 🫶 (and congrats again !! 💞🤧)

☕︎ strawberry tea

LN4 and 'napping together'

He’s home.

Every triple header you can’t attend gets a little troublesome; the apartment feels lifeless, the walls lackluster of laughter bouncing around. The puzzle the two of you had yet to complete lay dormant on the dining room table; a stark reminder that every meal without your boyfriend was eaten curled up on the modular sofa you’d also been sleeping on, the only comfort being a fluffy blanket, the smell of him already fading.

The door had clicked, the text messages having faded since he had stepped off the plane, obviously more focused on returning back to you than responding to your questions. You didn’t care, not when you reached the entry foyer and saw him; tired, sore but smiling. His suitcase and travel bag faded into nothingness as a choked sob left your lips, running down the hall in sock feet and leaping at your boyfriend, two strong arms holding you against him, hiding his own head in your neck.

“I’m home.” He’d whispered between shivers, overwhelmed from feeling your body pressed against his for the first time in over three weeks. Between whispers, in regards to how much they’ve missed one another, he’s pressing kisses against your face, your hands finding and threading through his curls, pleading he wouldn’t disappear without you again, at least not for a week.

Lando is so gentle, he can feel you shivering, probably from the lack of sleep and the realization he’s returned. It takes a few moments, unraveling yourself from one another, letting him link your fingers together, guiding you down the hall and back into the lounge. His heart melts when he sees the blankets cocooned into a makeshift bed like you had done oh-so-often for movie nights.

“Have you been sleeping out here?” He coaxes, shifting from where you had been standing next to him, clamoring into the modular setup, immediately wiggling out of his shoes and hoodie, leaving him shirtless and oh-so-cozy. Lando didn’t miss the blush that tinted your cheeks, both from his toned chest and heavy question.

“The bed felt…so empty without you.” The whisper left your lips. You hadn’t slept the first night, reaching out constantly to feel his warmth and shattering each time it hit that he wasn’t there. He’d never admit, but Lando had the exact same problem, having to physically exhaust himself into sleep. It would never come out, he’d never want his sweet girl to worry. Instead, he wordlessly raises his two arms, a signal for you to come and join him in the makeshift bed; he really doesn't have the energy to haul the cushions and blankets back to his actual bedroom.

It takes you less than a moment to react, bundling straight into his arms, both of you soft with giggles and gentle kisses. It’s like fitting a piece back together, your head immediately rests against his sternum, arms encircling you and holding you tighter. He’s warm. Oh, so warm and so comfortable that you can’t help but feel your eyes droop, getting heavier with the sleep debt you had gained. Delirium begins to overtake you both, adamant on napping rather than talking, it happened after years together.

“Do you want dinner?” You’d asked, voice teetering on the edge of sleep, only drawn closer when Lando’s hand reaches out, cupping your cheek and pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

“We’ll order later. Right now I just want you.” He presses a final kiss to your temple, lying back into the blankets and dragging you with him. It’s less than a few minutes before sleep overtakes you both, eyes heavy with only one thought running through you both, that you’re home.

part of the vetteltea 500 celebration!

#Vetteltea 500 #Lando Norris #Lando Norris Imagine #Lando Norris x Reader #Lando Norris One Shot #LN4 #LN4 x Reader #Lando Norris Blurb

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peachsayshi · 9 months

Note

peach u should absolutely 100% share that nanami thought

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ sugar daddy!nanami x babysitter!fem reader ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni (this blog is 20+ of follows)

➳ tags: single dad nanami; porn with little plot; nipple play; pussy drunk nanamin; oral (female receiving); overstimulation; squirting; mentions of cum; dirty talk ➳ n: don't ask about my mental state when I wrote this.

nanami hasn't been intimate with a woman in two and half years. so, of course, he can’t help but be in a constant state of heat when he’s around you in such close quarters. his last relationship was serious enough for him to invest in an engagement ring, but a surprise pregnancy ultimately turned his life upside down. one minute he was ready to start a family, and the next he found himself abandoned by his partner who left him to raise his son all by himself.

nanami didn't have time to process the devastation of that experience with a toddler to worry about. instead, he buried himself in his work and channeled all his focus on raising yuji. he absolutely adored being a father to his bubbly little boy, but he knew that he couldn't keep relying on his parents to take on the extra pressure as he juggled between his very successful career and fatherhood.

you were a part time babysitter, but a godsend to nanami.

hiring you proved to be the best kind of luxury he could afford, and the man was finally able to acknowledge that he was spreading himself far too thin. with you around, he managed to catch his breath for the first time in two years and the cherry on top was that yuji absolutely adored you.

of course, the arrangement worked out both ways.

you were strapped for cash after paying off your loans, and with the cost of living skyrocketing in the last couple of years, you knew you needed to take on a second job just to make ends meet. not only was nanami the sweetest employer, but he offered you a very generous salary.

the man isn't shy to admit that you brought a little light back into his life, as well as some peace and much needed quiet.

he found himself having more alone time during the weekends, especially on saturdays when yuji would stay by his grandparents and you were off from work.

that's when it dawned on him just how lonely he'd been all these years. he shouldn’t have been surprised that his dormant sexual appetite emerged once you came into the picture, and that he regularly began touching himself with the thought of fucking you in every position imaginable.

after one of his solo sessions, when your name escaped him in a broken grunt as he came all over his palm, a bold proposition crossed his mind…

…you've been doing such an amazing job with yuji, why not help fulfill his needs to?

he knew how much this could backfire if things turned sour, but nanami was also aware of your financial circumstances and decided that the risk was worth taking.

he treated the conversation professionally; along with a monthly salary, he offered to cover any and all of your expenses in exchange for you quitting your job and working exclusively for him.

he had "new terms" in regards to your position. you would continue taking care of yuji as usual, but every saturday would be dedicated to having scheduled "dates" with nanami. he was expecting a companionship, preferably one that was physical, but he wasn’t going to force you with anything you were uncomfortable with. you were to join him on any work or family trips, but he reassured you that you were allowed to take any personal breaks and holidays as you saw fit. he would be flexible with you just as long as you stick to the demands of the contract he drafted.

“can I think about it?” you asked him a little breathlessly, your cheeks scorching hot as you clenched your thighs tightly together in your seat.

“take whatever time you need,” he politely replied. “I want you to think it through”

- ♡ -

this pretty cupless corset top with the matching lace thong is the most expensive present you’ve ever received. the detail on the set itself is stunning, molding around your body like a piece of art. your skin is the canvas beneath the see through material, showing off the printed panels and lacy embroidered detailing.

nanami handed you the present just the night before as he walked you out the door.

“wear this tomorrow,” he whispered in your ear, smirking with amusement and anticipation.

you feel so exposed with your tits exposed out like this, hard nipples poking against the air as you watch your employer wrap his mouth over one of the tender buds.

you hiss as he swipes his tongue along the peak, nipping at the tip with his teeth before sucking gently. your thighs were still trembling from the orgasm he just delivered from this act alone, and you can feel your arousal stick to your inner thighs as it soaked through your underwear.

“ah-ah!” you whine, your lashes fluttering close as you arch your hips lightly against his pelvis. “nanami-san…”

it’s strange hearing yourself call out his name this way, the tone unfamiliar and foreign to your ears.

those strong, beautiful hands leave your waist and travel to your breasts. nanami squeezes your tits and drags his thumbs over the taut peaks as he places a kiss along the boning of your corset.

“I'd rather be inside you, but I haven’t tasted pussy in ages…” he admits shyly against your ribs, his mouth traveling further down to the space between your legs.

your thighs nearly snap close, but he sternly pinches your nipples to keep them spread.

“Such a pretty thing, I bet you taste like heaven ...” he contemplates, nuzzling his nose into your clothed crotch and breathing in the scent of your arousal. he swipes his tongue over the soaked material, his brown eyes turning hazy as he glances up at you from between your legs, "mmm, you really fucking do..."

your spine quivers from the vibration of his deep voice, and his vulgar choice of words. nanami releases his hands from your chest and proceeds to tug your underwear to the side while keeping one thigh nice and open for him.

he licks his lips at the dewy wet mess and groans.

"fuck, I could cum just looking you."

he places featherlight kisses over your clit, one after the other, until you sigh dreamily as your head fall backs against the pillow. he keeps you spread while his tongue massages over the sensitive button and parts your folds. he slurps, nips, and kisses to his heart's content - the tension knitting the front of his brows together from how your pussy intoxicates him.

he draws out another orgasm, his hand kneading your shaking thigh as your essence coats the lower have of his face. he can feel himself leaking through his boxers, so he ruts against the mattress to give himself some relief.

he moves to focus on just your clit, making noises as he lewdly sucks on the bud. his other hand finds your dripping hole, and he manages to slip two fingers inside with ease. he brushes his digits upward, the pads stroking over your gummy walls and turning your sensual moans into desperate little whimpers.

the pressure is unbearable; the tight coil around abandon an ache that you can't even stand. your hand threads between his golden strands, your manicured nails digging into his scalp which eggs him on even further. your eyes roll to the back of your head, your jaw goes slack when he touches just the right spot that has tears of relief falling down your cheeks.

your body spasms when your third orgasm trickles through you in an eruption, a gush squirting from between your legs and painting nanami's hand, forearm and neck.

"good girl," he grunts as he peppers kisses over your pubis and along your hip.

you're trembling as you readjust your position to sit up again. nanami finally shifts his body to sit upright, his knees on either side of your thighs. he pulls his dick out of his boxers and starts stroking his thick, veiny cock. you're panting to catch your breath, mouth slightly dry at the sight of the bulbous head.

"s-shit, I can't h-hold off any longer," he admits with a shaky voice, his heavy eyes locking on yours as he continues jacking off. "gonna have to cum on those beautiful tits, darling..."

you sheepishly reach one hand to tweak at your nipple to provoke him, "do whatever you want with me, I'm yours."

your sensual delivery tips him over the edge and with just a couple more strokes, he finally reaches his climax and shoots white ropes all over your chest.

you crawl up his body as he comes down from his high, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your tainted chest against his own strong torso. you brush your finger over his undercut, leaving a kiss along his jaw before murmuring against his lip: "was that good for you, nanami san?"

he grins as he reaches to grip the flesh of your rear, his lips closing the gap of space where he steals a messy, open mouthed kiss. "better than I expected, " he reassures as he nips at your bottom lip, careful not to confess that he's pined for this moment night after night.

#peach queues.🧡#nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x female reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #sugar daddy nanami #I can't stop thinking about this concept

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orcasoul · 7 days

Text

Din Djarin Headcanons:

Touch starved Din

A/N: Our poor tin can man is so deprived of human touch it breaks my heart. He deserves some love and affection xxx

It started so unexpectedly. The odd, accidental brush of an arm or leg while passing each other in the confined areas of the Razor Crest, the delicate meeting of fingertips when passing Grogu back and forth, the playful shove you would give him when he accidentally startles you as he quietly approaches from behind. He'd spent most of his life honing his skills as a Mandalorian, and after years of stealthily hunting people down, approaching quietly is second nature to Din.

He doesn't do it on purpose, but if it means more personal contact with you, then it's definitely worth it. Din can't remember the last time someone had touched him - not counting the physical altercations with bounties or enemies - until you came along. He hadn't realised just how much he needed the soothing tenderness of your touch, something warm and natural.

It had awakened a deep and dormant longing within him, and he'd noticed that the more comfortable you became around him, the more intimate those moments became. Weather it be his hand finding the small of your back in crowded places, or your hand, gently squeezing his shoulder when you bid him goodnight. Din had come to yearn for your touch.

Even through the worn leather of his gloves and the thickness of his flight suit, the warmth of your being would find it's way into his pores, spreading throughout his limbs and filling him with a sense of serenity he rarely experienced. You are like a drug to him. The more he has, the more he wants, needs, craves!

That's why when the faulty wires he was fiddling with zapped him and burned through his glove, he made no attempt to stop you as you removed his glove to inspect the burn. Din's breath gets stuck in his chest as his brain registers the feel of your skin against his for the first time.

Your hands are soft, so soft, skin like velvet, holding his much larger and calloused hand so delicately while applying a bacta patch over the charred area. Thank the maker for his helmet, lest you see how his eyes slowly close in contentment at your attentive ministrations. How can just a simple touch have such an affect on him?

But then again, it's not just a simple touch, it's your touch. Something sacred to him, something that is uniquely you in every way. It grounds him, unsettles him, calms him, frightens him all at once. He can't make any sense of it. Din's eyes open at the sensation of your fingers slipping inside his open palm and your thumb, slowly and ever so lightly caressing the back of his hand, a 'There all better,' whispered lovingly.

That's when he sees it. The longing in your eyes, the small smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth while you maintain a gentle grip of his hand. Maybe you need to feel him too? There's very little Din knows about your past, never pushing for more information than you're willing to divulge. But from what he's been able to piece together, it hasn't been a happy one, and maybe all this time you've been longing for human contact as much as he has.

Din's heart thumps against his rib cage, uncertainty taking root in the pit of his stomach. This is new territory for you both. There is an undeniable shift in the air, thrumming with anticipation. Your other hand reaches for his still gloved one, bringing it to rest next to the other already in your lap, eyes asking a silent 'can I?'

Din swallows thickly, answering with a slow nod. With a reassuring smile, you pull off the remaining glove and place it by your feet. He tries his best to control his nerves as your soft palms and slender fingers continue to explore his hands, tracing over scars that stand out slightly paler against the rich tan of his skin.

Without even realising it, his hands have begun to stroke yours. He marvels at how much smaller they are than his, so delicate looking, fitting so perfectly inside his own. He languidly slides his hands along your wrists and up to your elbows, his entire body alive with electricity and want. Your closed eyes and faint sigh is enough of an indicator for him to continue.

His fingers tremble, slightly as he works his way up to your forearms, then to your shoulders, stopping at the base of your neck. Your next move almost causes Din's heart to stop, as you calmly take a hold of both of his hands and bring them to cup your cheeks, leaning your face to the side so your lips are brushing against his fingers. He could die right now and he'd be a happy man!

He wants you to know how much you've come to mean to him, but words were never his strong point, so he'll show you instead. With a feather light hold on your face he gingerly pulls you to met him halfway as he lowers his helmet, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

Din had once explained what this gesture means in Mandalorian culture, and the fact that you are now returning that gesture confirms what he had begun to hope; That you want him as much as he wants you. Foreheads still joined together, Din whispers "My Cyare."

#din x reader #mando x you #pedro pascal #din djarin fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #star wars #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin #mando

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fallenneziah · 11 days

Note

Hello I saw your Alpha Ghost x Omega reader fics and I was wondering what if reader was an alpha and Ghost was the Omega

(If you can make reader a timber wolf and make it fluff no smut)

Aw, I love making these things. You'll get all the fluff.

Alpha!Reader x Omega!Ghost

Omega!Ghost who actually was very sheltered about telling people he was an Omega. He didn't tell anyone for a long time and went through years just to try and hide it.

Omega!Ghost who after being captured and held by Roba couldn't help seeing his body as nothing but an object, wanting to hide it more.

The generational shame that came with being an Omega and wanting to hide himself continued for many years that he was like this.

Alpha!Reader whose distinct senses and abilities made them a prime recruit for the military. Joining without incident and pushing through rank.

Omega!Ghost whose been used to hiding so long the feelings he's attempted to keep dormant deep down bubble back up slowly when he sees you.

Your capable, your strong, your scent hits his nose and it's like his knees are weak and he can't get enough.

Alpha!Reader who sees the big lieutenant and it's honestly scary to see him looming and watching you. He's an alpha probably, making sure you don't cause shit for the others.

Alpha!Reader and omega!Ghost don't get too close yet, Ghosts intense heat blockers keep most of his identity a mystery. If anyone got so close as to figure it out that was an accomplishment.

Alpha!reader who starts trying to prove themselves for the alpha watching every day.

Price can only laugh, looking over at Ghost whose watching behind the mask with the lovesick eyes of a puppy finding a new owner. "Do they know?"

"No."

Price looks back at you, flexing your hardest and trying your best to impress. "Didn't think so."

Omega!Ghost who is relishing the attention. He knows you're showing off for him, and whether he will admit it or not, he likes it. He enjoys watching you flex your muscles and show off the wolfish side of yourself.

This gander goes on for a while between the two. Ghost watches as he feels that Omega inside him purrs and leaps. Like a cat awake from a nap ready to stretch its back legs and take off.

Alpha!reader who's tired, a day of showing off to the man who won't even speak to you. They head back to their common area and whose there?

Omega!Ghost whose finding that his omega is much more prone to cuddling than he remembered. Snuggled up in a blanket watching whatever was on tv.

"Sir, lieutenant." You attempted to greet casually as you sat down. The taste of peppermint and lemon citrus. The scent makes your stomach twist and your head whip around.

Omega!Ghost who could care less hunkered in his blanket like a turtle poking his head from his shell while your instincts stir and confusion sets in.

Ghost is very used to your scent because he smelled it first. But as you smell this new smell you realize it's coming from him.

Alpha!reader who realizes the man you've wanted to impress all this time has been an omega. Which, honestly? Not a bad thing. Not at all.

Omega!Ghost smells your growing scent, looking over at you. Your scent swarms the room like a thick cloud. And you look over at him. His pupils expand and close, as if trying to resist relaxing into the presence.

Alpha!Reader who lets the scent fill the air and swarm his nose. You smell of woods, fresh dirt and the familiar smell of a mutt wet from the river.

"You think this is that easy?" He asks curiously as he flips through his book.

You watch his fluid motions, seeing the way his fingers grasp so gently at the pages. You look at his face, seeing his beautiful lashes casting over his brown eyes.

"I didn't realize I'd have to be chasing you.."

"Does that turn you off??" He asks, and looks to you briefly.

Your canines show behind a smile. You reach your hand over and rub his thigh, feeling the muscle tense under the subtle touch. "No, no it doesn't at all." You reply, moving boldly closer to him.

Omega!Ghost usually didn't let people into his space, but hell, you'd worked your ass off for it. "Mm." He replied and you snuggled up to him, your hand drifting around his lap to capture his waist. When that didn't make him move, you nuzzled his scent glands, shifting his mask and giving them an experimental lick.

Ghost jumped, his cheeks going bright red. "That's enough you- mutt."

"Ouch, Ghost... You like it."

Alpha!Reader who proceeds to gently groom Ghost. Ghost hadn't ever been groomed before. Maybe the occasions head scratches from Price but this was... So much different.

Omega!Ghost who can't help whining for your attention and affections. His resolve is slowly crumbling beneath him as your smell is the tip of the treat. He's held it off as long as he could, now he just needs the experience he's missed out on from people he can trust.

Alpha!Reader doesn't pull his mask up too high, but enough to lick and kiss around his neck and shoulders. There was no intention of lust behind them, merely to help his shoulders relax with warm, sweet lips tending to them.

Omega!Ghost who sinks into it, nuzzling against you. Every instinct in his body he'd pushed down for years over years pooling out in an instant. His trust issues scream at him, and he partly pulls away. "Keep your hands where I can see them... Mutt." He mumbled, attempting to make it clear where his line drew.

Alpha!Reader who fits him in their arms, nuzzling him. As any wolf would, you continued to groom him. "I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want." Ghost is completely lax. Whatever you did... Fuck you did it right.

Something felt so... New. It felt like your arms were a barrier between him and everything else. Your arms kept him safe, your scent, your presence, this was safety.

Alpha!reader who watches his eyes so effortlessly flutter closed. They nudge his cheek and press a quick kiss to the mask, feeling their heart jump for joy.

"We'll take it slow ... But I think I've found what makes you tick." You chuckle, seeing him fully blissed out, getting a mere taste of what true safety feels like. After years of hiding, worrying and screaming. You've given him just a smidge of what he could have with you.

Safety and companionship.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #call of duty #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #alpha reader #omega simon riley #alpha!reader

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eelnoise · 7 months

Text

in my feels tonight so have some zoro fluff that i wrote to help 🤫

BTW i appreciate you guys so much. thanks for reading my silly fics 🫶🫶🫶

zoro x gn!reader (if I slip a pronoun in lmk!! I'm tired and it ain't proofread!!)

this fic has a sequel!!

Zoro wakes with a start. His right eye springing open and blinking several times to clear his vision. His chest is heaving and a light layer of sweat is damp against his skin as his groggy brain processes his surroundings.

Another nightmare.

Flashes of his past - times where he failed or disappointed had long haunted him, and recurring memories seemed to follow him even in sleep most nights.

It eats at him deeply, even if he doesn't show it on his face or in his demeanor. Years of grief and loss in the face of danger and battle has hardened Zoro, a stoic mask carved into his expression that hides his feelings and serves as a filter for unwanted emotions.

He has to stay strong, at least on a surface level. He has a crew to protect and a captain to aid - people who rely on and expect great things from him.

Zoro keeps his thoughts tightly wrapped, bottling them up in a way that only makes him spiral further into his own anguish.

A quiet and frustrated sigh passes through his lips, the hand at his side twisting into a fist in anger when he feels a head-sized weight on his chest and a much smaller arm draped around his middle.

It's you.

His heart leaps when he takes in your sleeping form. Your face is caught in the moonlight peering in through the window in his cabin, peaceful and relaxed in what Zoro hopes is a bliss filled slumber.

He wraps his arm around you, one hand coming to rest on your head as he begins to stroke your hair. A soft, lazy smile twitches at the sides of his mouth.

You're a reminder that life can feel more vivid - a light in the dark recesses of his mind. A reminder that even someone as cold and as rough as he seems to be is worthy of love.

Love - what a word to describe how he feels toward you.

It's something he'd never thought about having; something that always seemed so foreign and strange to him. Loving someone with your whole being was something he couldn't understand, devoting himself to something other than his dream, and this life of piracy didn't seem possible.

Zoro would die for his captain. He would and had taken on anyone who stood in Luffy's way on their journey. Left on death's door many times, Zoro could've gone out knowing that he'd done his part. It didn't matter if he lived or died as long as Luffy could live his dream.

But for you, he'll come back every time.

He has to live.

Just meeting you had ignited a flame he thought long dormant, the fire fanning into a greater blaze when you seemed to understand him, body and soul. And when you took his hand in yours that one fateful evening, your fingers entwining with his after a long conversation at midnight in the crow's nest - he had fallen head over heels.

He cherishes you in a way he had thought impossible. You know just how he ticks, and you always seem to be right there with open arms when he really needs you.

Words don't need to be exchanged to show the love between you - that isn't really his forte. You met this particular behavior with learned ones of your own, forgoing average public displays of affection and replacing them. A simple but gentle touch to his shoulder can anchor him. The quick brush of your hand next to his in passing always has a deeper and more unspoken meaning to it.

You know him like no other, and he makes sure to show you just how much he cares in the only ways he knows how.

Zoro presses his lips to the top of your head a few times, breathing in the scent of your hair with a warm smile. You hum even deep within your dreamy state and nuzzle your face closer to him, warm and safe in his tight embrace.

God, he loves you.

#one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece #roronoa zoro x y/n #ronoroa zoro #opla zoro

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bellaxgiornata · 7 months

Text

I'm Right Here

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: After the threat of Sanctuary came to an end and peace returned, you stayed behind in Alexandria where Daryl felt you’d be safest, but he continued with the rebuilding efforts outside of Alexandria's confining walls. With Daryl gone for days on end, you soon found yourself constantly plagued by nightmares again–and the fear that he no longer wanted you.

Warnings/Tags: 18+; light angst, graphic violence, nightmares, emotional hurt/comfort, implied smut

a/n: I used to write for Daryl so much years ago and have been dying to write for him again! I do have another fic in the works for him and feedback is always appreciated!

With the flashlight aimed straight ahead of yourself, you stepped one foot carefully inside of the dilapidated and darkened clinic. Cautiously you began to shift your weight forward onto your foot, internally praying that nothing was lurking behind the dust-covered front desk on the wall to your right. It was damn near impossible to see anything inside the building without the light from your flashlight with the way the windows had long since been boarded up.

Gradually you eased your way further inside the building, one foot moving slowly after the other as you scanned the room from left to right. You left the entrance to the clinic ajar behind you in the event you needed to run; you didn’t want to waste time fighting with a closed door if a handful of walkers surprised you in these dark, enclosed quarters. But that didn’t stop the hairs raising along your forearms, a prickle of fear running through you at the prospect of something or someone sneaking up behind you while you searched for the medical supplies your group desperately needed. Though you knew Daryl was out checking the perimeter right now, which meant nothing undead should be able to sneak up on you from the outside at least.

Scanning what once had been a waiting room, you saw a handful of upturned plastic chairs scattered along the floor. A few were broken in what must’ve been a scuffle that’d occurred at some point since the world had gone to shit. Garbage and debris littered the outdated tile floor, but thankfully there were no dead lying dormant nearby.

Shining your flashlight upwards, always overly cautious, you spotted the sagging ceiling tiles from compounding water damage over the years. You grimaced, internally planning to give the area beneath it a wide berth. You didn’t want to risk being trapped under debris if the ceiling happened to collapse while you were here.

Lowering the flashlight beam, you scanned the waiting area once more before dropping your guard just a little bit more. You wanted to get in and out of here as fast as you could so that you could get back to the others before the sun set tonight. It wasn’t exactly like you had time to waste since Michonne desperately needed whatever supplies you could find here. Unfortunately taking your time fully scanning the area like you usually would wasn’t an option right now–and at least Daryl wasn’t in here to scold you for that.

Feet hurrying across the dirty, tiled floor, you made your way through the waiting room and towards the door all the way at the back of the room. Most likely it led to the actual patient rooms where there would hopefully be some basic supplies not too picked over. And maybe if you were lucky there would be a supply closet somewhere around here that hadn’t been picked clean yet, either. Though admittedly whatever you could get your hands on would have to do for now.

Stopping in front of the door, you briefly switched your flashlight to the same hand as your knife, awkwardly holding the pair as you reached out with your now free hand, twisting the door handle before gently pushing it open just a crack. Immediately you readied yourself, swapping your flashlight back into your other hand and raising your knife, ready to strike a walker if it came barreling towards you.

Except only silence met your ears.

Carefully you pressed a shoulder up against the door, pushing it open wider. The beam of your flashlight instantly flooded the short, dark hallway. There were three doors to your right and three to your left, a single door at the opposite end of the tight space.

Teeth gritting nervously together, you slowly slipped around the door you’d just opened, surveying the few open rooms as you moved. You didn’t like that only a couple of the doors were closed, that fear of something sneaking up behind you only growing. With your heart hammering just a bit harder in your chest, you moved carefully to the open room on your right.

Shining your flashlight inside, you spotted what looked like a regular doctor’s office. A tattered and sun-faded bed was to the far right, a cork board covered with photos and holiday cards with dates from years long past were on the wall just beside it. As you shined the flashlight to your left in the small space, you spotted two more of those plastic chairs you’d seen in the waiting room lined against the wall. Shining the beam further to your right, just beside the door you’d stepped through, you spotted a sink and a few cabinets on the wall opposite of the bed.

Relief flooded through you as you hurried over, quickly opening the cabinets on the wall. You found gauze, cotton swabs, bandaids of different sizes and shapes, and rubbing alcohol filling the shelves. Eyes widening in surprise at the abundance of supplies, you swiftly removed the backpack from your back, setting it down onto the countertop beside the sink with a soft thunk . The sound of the zipper being undone was loud in your ears, contrasting with how quiet the clinic was as you opened the main compartment of your bag, but you kept your focus on the task of grabbing everything you could as quickly as you could.

With your bag open and your left hand shining the flashlight onto the cabinet’s shelves, you set your knife down beside your bag on the counter. Hurriedly you began to swipe item after item, tossing each one into your backpack one after the other. You figured if there were items like these still here in this room, there was hope that something even more useful might be found in a supply closet somewhere.

Though while you frantically continued to fill your bag with medical supplies, you’d admittedly become so distracted by your thoughts of what else you might find that you hadn’t realized you weren’t alone anymore. It wasn’t until the walker lurking nearby had come up behind you, latching onto your shoulders with its partially decaying hands in a grip that felt far too strong for anything other than a newly turned undead, that you’d accidentally startled and screamed. In your fright, your hand bumped your knife that you’d set onto the counter and it proceeded to fly off the countertop, landing with a loud clatter by your feet and entirely out of your reach.

Struggling against the walker's grip on you as it shoved you further forward, the countertop biting uncomfortably into your stomach, you heard more rasping and growling coming from nearby. Your hand flew backwards, trying to smash the walker’s head in with the butt of your flashlight, but its skull was considerably more solid than a walker that had been decomposing for far longer than this one. A wash of fear ran through you when you realized your flashlight wasn’t going to be able to save you right now.

Still struggling to remain out of the reach of the walker’s teeth, your hand precariously placed against the thing’s unnaturally pale forehead, you tried with all your strength to shove it backwards. But that familiar sound of more loud, rasping, growls soon met your ears once again–this time louder. Seconds later there were more walkers shuffling in through the door, the movement catching your eye. In your unfortunate moment of distraction, the walker you’d been trying so hard to hold back leaned forward just enough to sink its teeth onto your wrist and clamp down hard.

A scream ripped its way up through your chest, tearing its way shrilly out of your mouth as the walker bit off a chunk of flesh and muscle. Hot, fresh blood began gushing its way down your arm as visceral pain shot through your body so blindingly powerful that you hadn’t even noticed the other walkers already descending on you. Though soon you felt their hungry hands grabbing at your arms and your back just before another sharp burst of searing agony cut through you when a second set of teeth dug into your back, just below your left shoulder. You cried out, warm tears spilling forth as realization set in.

They were going to eat you alive.

A third set of teeth snapped at your neck, a strangled cry weakly flying out of you as it clamped down hard on your skin. More of your blood began to soak you as the thing tore away another mass of your flesh, the coppery tang of it strong in the air. But as the bodies of the dead continued to press you further into the corner, keeping you trapped as they continued to tear into you, you swore you heard Daryl’s voice calling your name. Your eyelids slowly fluttered shut at the sound of it, your mind trying to focus on that instead of the hands and teeth repeatedly clawing and biting at you.

But just as you’d tried to focus on his familiar and comforting voice, another set of teeth latched onto the side of your jaw and a scream shot itself out of you yet again when the walker’s mouth viciously pulled .

Eyes flying wide open, your heart was fiercely pounding away against the confines of your ribcage, thrumming so hard that you could feel it in your throat. Your body was covered in a sheen of cold sweat, the sheets beneath you noticeably damp against your slickened skin. Gasping and wheezing for air, your hands fisted the soft cotton sheets that felt so wrong in this world, though it took your mind a moment longer to register that your right hand had actually tightened around someone else's instead of fabric. A second after that you noticed the weight of a hand gently residing on your bicep and your pulse swiftly escalated further as your head darted to the side along the pillow, expecting to find a walker holding you down on the bed with its rotted and discolored teeth barred in hunger at you.

Instead you saw Daryl kneeling beside you at almost eye level. His long dark hair was its usual disheveled and dirty state on his head, a few of the strands falling into his face. The corners of his eyes were creased in concern as they focused on you, his face contorted into worry despite the thin line of his lips. Even through the darkness of your bedroom, you couldn’t miss the panic and fear written so plainly on his face.

"Hey, hey," he soothed in that familiar gravelly voice. "'S'me. You're alright. Just a dream."

Swallowing hard, you continued to pant heavily while attempting to calm the racing of your heart, Daryl’s hand reassuringly squeezing yours as you inhaled a shuddering breath. As usual, your nightmare tonight had been disturbingly vivid and it required a minute for you to remind yourself that it had only just been a dream. You’d been having them for weeks now almost nonstop, though you’d first begun to have them back when the dead had initially begun to rise. But you’d quickly noticed that they didn’t trouble you whenever Daryl was around, especially once the two of you had long since stopped dancing around your feelings for each other and become a couple.

Usually you’d spent most nights at his side, comfortably and safely curled up against his solid and reassuring body. You used to fall asleep to the even sound of his breath in your ears and the warmth of him against you. But he’d been restless ever since Negan had been dealt with and Sanctuary had fallen. He’d been spending all of his time outside of the looming walls of Alexandria helping Rick and the others with whatever he could, clearly trying to work through some of his own shit–or trying to ignore it. Occasionally, every few days, he’d stop back in Alexandria to deliver whatever food he’d caught and stay the night with you. Though the last time he had done that was so long ago now that you couldn’t exactly remember how long ago it had actually been.

And he absolutely refused to take you with him. Always telling you that you were safer here , behind the walls and in the community. With everyone else. But the truth was that you missed him. Missed his comforting presence being such a constant around you. You hated pretending that life was safe and peaceful and perfect in this little community day in and day out with its electricity and showers and fancy home decor. It resembled a life you’d had once, one that was long gone. You worried it was making you soft, wearing you and the others down to something weak .

That fear was what you figured had restarted your nightmares here. Your dreams always involved you or someone else–often Daryl–making a stupid mistake and getting themselves torn apart by the dead. Or of an invading group coming in and taking over, easily picking all of you off one by one because you’d become too trusting and naive in your communities.

But you figured the nightmares had also restarted because of the distance it felt like Daryl was putting between the pair of you, both physically and emotionally. You barely saw him anymore. It felt like you were losing him and that terrified you. Though of course you never told him that, too afraid that such blunt honesty would fully send him running from you. You never told him about the nightmares, either. The only one you’d confided any of that with was Carol.

Carol.

She must’ve said something to Daryl if he was here right now, kneeling beside your bed and silently staring at you with that pained expression on his handsome face. There was no other reason he’d have shown up in the middle of the night like this. He only ever showed up in the afternoons when the day was half over.

“Hey,” you greeted him awkwardly, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

“Hey,” his deep voice rasped out. “Heard ya screamin’ from downstairs.”

“Right,” you whispered, eyes dropping down to where his hands were still holding onto you. “Had a nightmare, that’s all.”

Daryl grunted out a noise in response. You could feel the way his eyes were fixed on you right now, studying you carefully. The weight of his stare was beginning to make you anxious and unsure of what to say next.

“Carol said you’ve been havin’ ‘em for a while now,” he said a moment later. “How come ya didn’t tell me ‘bout ‘em?”

“Can’t really talk to you when you’re not here.”

The words had left your mouth before you even had a chance to stop them. Sucking in a sharp breath, your eyes darted back up to his face. Obvious hurt was etched across his features in the dim moonlight slipping past the curtains. You opened your mouth to apologize and take the words back, terrified you’d just made the mistake of upsetting him and sending him running off on his bike and avoiding you for days on end, but his reaction surprised you.

“You’re right,” he muttered guiltily. “Haven’t been here with ya much lately 'cause I been busy helpin' Rick.”

For a moment you laid there stunned, mouth still hanging open as you gaped at him. That was absolutely not the response you’d have expected from him. Daryl usually growled and got angry, disappearing for days on end, leaving you without a word while he attempted to process his emotions and thoughts. You had never liked when he did that, rare as it often had been lately, but you knew he had a complicated past which had often complicated his ability to discuss emotions and feelings, even with you. It was why you hadn’t said anything about his disappearances, choosing to bottle up your own feelings instead. You already saw him so infrequently, you didn’t want to risk him disappearing for even longer periods of time.

But it seemed like right now you were both about to discuss his growing absence, no longer able to put it off. And for some reason that only had nerves twisting and roiling uncomfortably in your stomach, afraid this wasn’t a conversation that would end well.

“Why?” you asked him timidly, pushing yourself slowly upright in the bed. “Are you…not wanting to do this anymore? With me?”

Daryl’s face twisted into a look of confusion and shock at your question. The sight of him so taken off guard by that idea helped ease a bit of your nerves, though you still felt the way your stomach was knotting inside of you in anticipation of his answer.

“What?” he asked sharply, eyes narrowing in disbelief at you.

He shook his head, his hands finally releasing their hold on you as he abruptly pushed off the bed, rising back up to his full height. He paced his way towards the other side of the room, his eyes downcast as he faced the curtained window, running a hand through his hair. You frowned at his back.

“No. That–that isn't why I been gone so much,” he replied gruffly.

“Then why won’t you let me come with you?” you asked quickly, tossing the sheets off of yourself. “Why do you demand I stay here? Without you? You know I prefer staying in camps with you, Daryl. Being by your side. Know that I also feel caged and confined when I’m here just like you do. Why’re you pushing me away?”

“I ain’t pushin' ya away!” he snapped, turning around back towards you.

You hesitated on the edge of the bed, your feet just brushing the floor. Daryl was standing across the room from you, his shoulders heaving visibly in the darkness. You’d touched on something, that much was obvious from his outburst.

“So then why?” you asked him softly, slowly rising to your feet. “Because I–I miss you, Daryl,” you confessed, tentatively padding along the wood floor towards him, afraid to move too fast and scare him off. "It feels like I'm losing you."

“‘M right here,” he gruffly replied.

“Yeah,” you agreed slowly, continuing to gradually make your way towards him, the air cold against your still sweat-dampened skin. “For now. Until you hop on your bike in the morning and leave me for another few days.”

“I ain’t leavin' ya,” he shot back.

“You sure about that?” you asked, unable to hide the frustration in your voice. “Because you always tell me to stay here and then run off without me.”

“Safer here,” he muttered, his eyes dropping back down to the floor. “Told ya that already.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. That was always his explanation and it was getting old.

“Safer than what , Daryl?” you snapped.

“Then out there!” he growled, throwing a hand towards the window. “You’re safer here , behind the damn walls with the others lookin’ out for ya! I just wanna keep ya safe , alright? Why’s that gotta be a goddamn problem?”

“Don’t you miss me? At all?” you asked him, emotion thick in your voice.

His shoulders dropped a bit at your question, the anger visibly dissipating from him. He reached a hand up, rubbing it across his mouth as he nodded once.

“‘Course I miss ya,” he said, tone noticeably softer. “Miss ya every goddamn day. Miss your smile and your laughter. Even miss your smartass jokes,” he confessed, the corner of your lip gradually curling upwards at his admission. “Miss your inability to be quiet for more than a damned minute, even if I don’t miss the way ya always scare off whatever 'm trackin'.”

Biting your lip, you laughed lightly. The sound drew a faint smile onto Daryl’s mouth, his eyes rising up to linger along your face in the darkness.

“I don’t scare them off that often,” you said.

“Manage to scare off rabbits whenever I take ya with me,” he countered.

“Well,” you replied slowly, “rabbits are cute.”

“And I got a lotta mouths to feed,” he pointed out. “Don’t matter what’s cute if we can eat it.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand across your forehead. As nice as it was playfully arguing with him again–something you had certainly missed–this wasn't what you needed to talk about at the moment. And judging by the way Daryl awkwardly shifted his weight between his feet, suddenly growing quiet, he was aware of that, too.

“You know keeping me here doesn’t necessarily make me safer than anywhere else, right?” you asked quietly. “Here, with you at a camp, any of the other settlements. Hell, you could lock me in a tower, Dixon, and still something could happen to me.”

“‘Cause ya act without thinkin’,” he grumbled.

You shook your head, hugging your arms tighter around yourself. “Not the point,” you told him. “The point is: anything can happen to me anywhere .”

Daryl grunted, his body tensing up at your words. You saw the slight crease form between his brows as his eyes narrowed back at you once again.

“That s’posed to make me feel better?” he asked, an edge to his tone. "'Cause it don't."

“No,” you answered. “No, but my point is that it doesn’t matter where I am, nowhere is guaranteed to be safe anymore. And I would rather be by your side where I feel safest, Daryl," you told him

Hesitantly you uncrossed your arms, lightly placing your hands on his chest, just over his vest. The leather felt cold beneath your palms, a chill running through you. Daryl’s own hands carefully landed on your hips when you shuddered, his touch instinctively causing you to take a step closer to him.

"What the hell is the point of keeping me safe if I’m not with you, anyway? I miss you,” you continued, attempting to swallow the lump forming in your throat. “You’re the only good thing left in this world to me. The only person I want to spend my days with, Daryl. Who knows how much longer any of us have anymore. And you keep taking that time together away from the both of us everytime you leave me behind."

"Not tryin' to do that," he whispered. "Wasn't tryin' to make ya feel unwanted, neither."

"Then take me with you," you practically begged. "Tomorrow when you leave again. Please. I can help with whatever Rick wants, but when I go to sleep at night I want to lay my head down next to you, Daryl. Every night. For however many nights we have left."

Daryl’s eyes narrowed back at you, quietly contemplating your request as he chewed his lip. Gradually your hands slid their way up his solid chest until you could wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him closer to you.

"Don't you…want that, too?" you questioned him nervously.

His left hand released your hip, instead rising to gently grip your chin between his fingers. He carefully tilted your face further up towards his, his gaze locked on yours so intensely that you felt the prickle of goosebumps along your bare forearms. It took every ounce of self-control not to close the space between you both and kiss him.

"Want ya always," he muttered. "'S'why I wanted ya here. Safe."

He paused, his brows twitching together briefly as if he was struggling to find the words to say more. You stood there with your arms still snuggly wrapped around his neck, quiet and patient as you gave him the time he needed, desperately hoping he would say whatever it was that you could clearly see was on his mind.

“I just don’t wanna lose ya,” he eventually admitted, fingers releasing your chin as his hand slid back to gently cup your cheek. “Couldn’t stand it if somethin’ happened to ya. And after everythin’ that just happened–all that shit with Sanctuary and Negan–it just–just…”

He trailed off, his eyes closing as he winced like he was in pain. The corner of your mouth tugged downwards, your heart aching at the sight of his inner struggle. He continued before you had a chance to say anything though, his calloused thumb lightly stroking your cheekbone as his gaze fixed back on you.

“But ya got a point,” he said. “I been missin’ ya. A lot. ‘S’just not right without ya with me, but I was tryin’ to do right by ya. Keep ya safe ‘stead of bein’ selfish.”

“That’s not being selfish, Daryl, it’s called living,” you countered gently.

He grunted in assent as he nodded slowly. “Alright,” he murmured. “I’ll take ya with me tomorrow. Rick’s got somethin’ he needs me to do. Could probably do with another set of hands.”

Teeth clamping down on your bottom lip, you attempted to fight the smile growing on your lips as a thrill shot through you–at his agreement to bring you with him and because something else was now very much on your mind with his close proximity to you. One of your brows quirked up at Daryl and he huffed out an amused breath, shaking his head at you.

“What?” he asked, a small grin on his face.

Your mouth curved upwards mischievously. “I could think of something else you might need another set of hands for,” you answered coyly.

He snorted out a laugh instantly, his eyes creasing at the corners. You laughed lightly along with him, unable to resist whenever you heard that rare sound of joy coming from him.

“Goddamit, woman,” he said, still grinning back at you. “Always got one thing on your mind.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t, either,” you teased. “I mean I did say I missed you. And it has been a bit.”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mere,” he muttered, pulling you towards him with the hand still cupping your cheek.

He quickly closed the remaining distance between the pair of you, connecting his mouth to yours in a sweet, gentle kiss full of so much feeling and tenderness. You could feel the way he’d missed you just from the way his mouth was moving against yours. Though it still never ceased to amaze you how soft and loving his kisses and touches were for a man with such a rough exterior.

With Daryl fully filling your senses–his muscled body pressed flush to the front of yours, the scent of leather, gasoline, and sweat filling your nose, the wet sounds of your mouths connecting over and over loud in your ears, and the taste of him on your tongue–it didn’t take long for you to lose yourself entirely in him, a heat beginning to grow between your thighs as his mouth finally began to give in to your eager and hungry one. As you continued to kiss, your hands wandering into his hair while his began to wander over your body, you could feel his growing arousal stirring against your thigh, the pressure of it only encouraging you.

Which was why you were surprised when he broke away from your mouth after a few minutes, the sound of both of you breathing heavily filling the otherwise silent bedroom. You sent him a silent, questioning look as your chest heaved, wondering if you’d done something wrong.

“Should talk ‘bout those nightmares,” he whispered.

“Later,” you promised, hands tangling into his hair. “Right now I just want you.”

“Told ya already,” he murmured, leaning in to lightly kiss you once more. “‘M right here.”

Tugging his mouth back down towards yours, you began to walk both of you backwards, leading him towards the bed as your hands began to slide the leather vest from off his shoulders. The only comfort you wanted right now was the kind he provided each time his mouth lovingly lingered along your skin, the way his hands affectionately touched you in ways you couldn’t explain, and the way he filled you and made you feel whole, always reminding you of what you’d gained in this world instead of what you’d lost.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #bellas comfort fic week #the walking dead

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wolven91 · 1 month

Text

Skin Deep

The crit'yun are an ancient race.

Chitin instead of flesh, feather, scale, or fur. A mind that was vast enough to include all their kind, but also individual minds, all working towards a common goal broken up into hives then castes. They were like ants of old, but massive.

As for the hives, in the deepest, most protected parts of their worlds, there were pools of a biological soup that gave birth to new and needed bodies. There was no 'set' appearance to the crit'yun. If they needed pincers the most, then the creature that crawled from the ominous goop had pincers. If they needed size or bulk, the goop would recede as a titan lifted itself clear of the liquid, allowing it to cascade from it in great waterfalls as it stepped into the galaxy.

The crit'yun had been around since the various races that now dominated the galaxy had begun to crawl from their own primordial soups millennia ago. They watched the galaxy and recorded its comings and goings with a careful eye. Nothing was forgotten, everything was shared. Perhaps once the crit'yun had spread themselves across the galaxy, like a grand empire? But that wasn't the case now.

Their territory with a sliver that spanned several arms of the galaxy. They stayed there, watching and listening to the galaxy that appeared and grew now that they stayed dormant.

But the modern galaxy feared them, even before their most recent awakening.

Not just because they had perfected what was important to the current races, war and weapons, but because they were an antithesis to what was considered beautiful within the galaxy. Skittering. Twitching. Eyes that didn't look like eyes, or none at all, still watched without blinking. Legs and hands that were weapons.

They were judged on their first introduction. The crit'yun were aliens, even to the aliens.

When humanity appeared, it created an almost visible ripple amongst the insectoids. Something new. Something they hadn't seen. Something they hadn't recorded with their incredible minds. Something, that was dying.

Like a locust swarm amassing, the crit'yun, after thousands and thousands of years in isolation and refusal to engage with the wider galaxy; was suddenly abuzz with activity. The galaxy feared the crit'yun despite the diplomats they sent to assure the Galactic Community of their honourable intentions. They avoided crowded systems, sent only the most appealing of the crit'yun to parley when needed, but they were still shunned as dangerous, foreign things.

This was where Max came in.

Max had been in the 'care' of slavers. He was one of the lucky ones. He hadn't even been aware of their foul intentions. They had lied, placed him in comfortable quarters and began their journey towards a buyer before being found by the crit'yun.

"We are still sorry. That this. Was your first step. Sorry, that we, no... you... did not find... ally, friend, family." Chittered the creature. It was the size of a large dog, perhaps a Great Dane? It's red membrane wings flutters and twitched, but the numerous black dots, that Max had come to learn were its eyes, watched him carefully. Its speech pattern was strange, but it sat next to the human on a raised bench of resin that coated the inside of the crit'yun ship.

"It's alright. I should have known, I just didn't... think I suppose?" The human said with a sigh, gesturing with his hand before it fell back down against his knee.

"Absence. No. Lack of knowledge. Ignorance. Not worthy of fault. " Assured the creature as its head tilted one way and then the other.

The human smiled idly, more to the floor than to himself or a crit'yun. His hand, ever moving reach over without thought and rubbed a hand against the almost perfectly rounded head of the alien insect. Although there was no fur there, the distracted human merely felt calmer by the action. It reminded him of his own dog, Max missed him.

It was almost a whole minute before Max turned his head to the crit'yun and blinked, seemingly surprised that he was petting the insect and immediately withdrew his hand.

"I'm sorry! I didn't-" Blurted the human, holding his hands up in apologetic surrender.

"Why?" Asked the creature. It's perfectly round head turning, the beady black eyes rotating with it. It was a perfect impression of a puppy tilting its head.

"I wasn't thinking." Replied the human honestly, lowering his arms once more, paying attention to the creature.

"Ah. This one knows this. Nature. No... Natural action... To act by instinct. True Freedom. Fear no. Fear not. No offence made or received." Confirmed the alien, bobbing its head. Unbeknownst the Max, the instinctual drive it spoke of was its 'purpose'. Every crit'yun was born and made with a goal, a true purpose in life. The broodmother's was to birth and care for their young and vulnerable. The guards was to defend and destroy threats. To this drone? It was to reapply the resin to the ceilings of the crit'yun craft.

Since the human had shown preference to it, it had already been replaced, its purpose was now to stay by the human and ensure it wanted for nothing until the broodmother's craft arrived.

Max gave a smirk as this giant insect spoke in such an odd way, struggling to find the correct words, all the while he had accidently just treated it like a favoured pet. His brow furrowed as he thought about it though.

"How come the translators don't work for you?" The man asked curiously. He was aware that translators normally just adjusted any word heard for the word the speaker meant, in the listener's language. It shouldn't have been hiccupping over the insect's words.

"They do." Replied the creature smartly.

"But you mix up your words?" Pointed out Max.

"Ah. Translators fine. It is mind that is... limited." The insect explained, bobbing on all six legs.

"Mind?" Max was only more confused now.

"Yes. This one. Crit'yun you see with your eyes. Is only drone. Mind limited. In time... We will present acceptable crit'yun to you." The drone explained, speaking the words the broodmother sent through the hive's mind. It was a delicate thing, to speak through a drone, but doable. They didn't normally have the drive to talk or even need to. It was pure luck that this done was a talkative one, often humming to itself as it happily worked. The broodmother could only whisper simple concepts and the drone would repeat them as best it could.

"What does that mean?" Enquired the human. The crit'yun was pleased with the new specie's curiosity but feared that this was the moment they would lose this creature's trust. The crit'yun knew what they looked like, and the diplomat form could only look so much like them before it caused distress.

"We hide. Will hide. What makes us. Robes will hide chitin. Our eyes will be only... One... Two..." Counted the drone, repeating the broodmother's words. Her signal was getting stronger, straining the creature's mind.

"You don't have to change for me you know? I don't mind." Promised the young man.

"You... flinch." Pointed out the drone.

"I'm not going to lie, its intimidating, being surrounded by bugs, but I bet I don't look great to you."

"Clicks for this one. True. Truth is spoken. Very well. When this drone... is returned to the hive. Hive will not attempt... much... to hide selves..." Promised the drone, settling down onto its folded limbs. Tired now.

"Good. I was always told be proud of who you are. And you guys saved my life, so in my book you're alright."

"We wish to record your book. Please present it." Asked the drone, it's mind growing tired now that the broodmother had relinquished her hold on its mind. She was on the ship now. The idea the drone could record new history and present it to the broodmother? As it slipped from the waking world, if it could smile; it would have.

"Oh. Uuhh..." The human said, unaware he was the only one present now.

[r/WolvensStories]

[AO3]

[Ko-Fi]

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #hfy #haso #humans are space orcs #insect #insect x human #crit'yun

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angel-eyes05 · 11 months

Text

a spider in the snow

pairing: fem!reader x miguel o’hara

summary: you help rehabilitate an injured miguel after he returns from one of his late night patrols…in more ways than one

warnings: nsfw, fluff then smut then fluff, handjob (both m and f recieving), blood mention, an incy wincy tincy bit of angst

word count: 2.5k

notes: heyyyyy i've come back from the dead. i don't really write a lot of one shots so go easy on me for this one. just like every horny person on the internet, i’ve fallen head over heels in love with miguel o’hara. this is me giving into my impulses lmao. sorry if i do anything thats out of character idk him that well so just work with me here. i also don't know everything about nueva york and if names are different than here or something so im just gonna pretend they’re the same. if they are, great! if not, just go with it lmao. one more thing, despite being cuban i am a no sabo kid (rip me) so i had to use a translator for some of this so apologies in advance if some things aren't super accurate. ok lets get on with the show.

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Snowy nights in Nueva York have always been one of your favorite parts about moving up north. Seeing all the lit up buildings illuminated in the snow, all the people ice skating in Rockefeller Center rink just below your apartment window, the reminders of Christmas coming soon. It kept your heart warm against the freezing temperatures outside. You also loved the feeling of being able to bundle yourself up in blankets and hoodies, a mix of yours and your boyfriend’s, having an excuse to make hot chocolate, and finally being able to use the fireplace that normally laid dormant in the middle of your living room. The one con about the snow was when it would land on Miguel’s patrol nights. Your already nervous mind was only heightened by the added uncertainty of everything that could happen while he was out there. What if he got too cold while out there and it affected his ability to fight? What if it started snowing too hard and he wouldn’t be able to find his way back to the apartment? You knew some of your concerns were probably dumb, but they felt serious to you.

This was one of those nights. One of the nights where you would sit on your couch, next to the cracked window, unable to sleep until you could see him come back safe. You flipped through the channels of the tv aimlessly, trying to find something to keep your mind off of the growing cold outside. You eventually turn it off after coming across the weather channel, claiming a snowstorm would be rolling into the city in about 15 minutes. Deciding there was nothing you could do about your situation, you walked over to your bedroom and wrapped yourself in your massive duvet to shield from the cold. Worries dashed around your mind about everything that could happen. Despite being verbally supportive about Miguel and his…hobbies, you really hated the idea of him sneaking out in basically pajamas almost every night to “beat up the bad guys” essentially. Even though he had explained everything to you by this point, having been dating for about three years now, you still couldn’t quite understand everything. Radioactive spiders? Corrupt businesses? Fangs and claws? Mutations? A multiverse? It was a lot to wrap your head around. But, despite all of this, all of your worries and concerns over Miguel, you stayed. Because you knew you didn’t start dating him because of his whole superhero business or whatever. You were dating him because you loved him. The real him. The way he would always press gentle kisses into the crook of your neck. How on his days off, you would be woken up to the smell of eggs and bacon cooking in the kitchen just for you. How he would always whisper sweet praises to you while you would give him head. How easily he could be crumbled down beneath his rock hard exterior. The Miguel underneath the red and blue spandex. You dreamt of this as you slowly fell into a calm slumber. You fell asleep bundled up in all the blankets on your bed, arm outstretched to the opposite side the bed, almost as if you were reaching for something that wasn’t there.

After some time had passed, you’re not sure exactly how much, you were awoken by a thud coming from your bathroom. You lazily rubbed your eyes and grabbed your alarm clock to check the time. 3:47 am. Yeah, that’s definitely Miguel in there. You dragged yourself out of bed to help him out, throwing one of this hoodies over your tank top for extra warmth. You also liked how it still smelled like him after three times in the wash. You opened the door, eyes squinting from the bright fluorescent light. And there he was. You found it endearing. How Miguel was trying, and failing, to reach this massive scratch on his back to clean it instead of just waking you up to ask for your help. You look to the floor to find a bottle of hydrogen peroxide sitting there on the rug, probably what caused the thudding sound. You stood there leaning in the doorframe, waiting for him to notice you, even though he probably already heard every step you’ve taken from the bed up to the door now. “You need any help there?” you ask him, jokingly. You had seen him in much worse conditions, so you took moments like these to be more comedic, an attempt to lighten his mood sort of. It didn’t usually work. “No, I got it. Please go back to sleep,” he said, still attempting to wrap his arms around himself. You rolled your eyes and walked over to sit behind him, picking up the hydrogen peroxide off the floor and grabbing a couple of cotton balls from the first aid basket. “Mi amor, please go back to sleep, I promise I can do this by myself,” he argued. Before he could get another word in, you poured some of the hydrogen peroxide over his wound. He groaned in response and squeezed your thigh to help level out the pain. “That’s for worrying me all night,” you said to him, just over the volume of a whisper. As you began to dab the blood off of his cut, he responded. “You know I don’t want you to worry.” Once you could see he was turning his head around to look at you, you turned your eyes away. You didn’t really want to look at him right now. It’s not that you were mad at him. Ok that’s a lie, you were a little mad. But it was more of a helplessness you felt when you would see him like this. Beat up, cut, scratched, bruised. And there wasn’t anything you could do to help. Not until after at least. And it wasn’t like you were a trained nurse or anything. You dreaded the day that he would come stumbling through the window, too injured for you to take care of yourself. Or worse. The day he wouldn’t come home at all. “Yeah, well that doesn’t mean I don’t,” you said sort of coldly. You stood up from your position, waiting to patch up his back until after he showered. You changed your positions to sit from behind him to in front, ready to take care of his front side now. “I don’t want to talk about that right now tho-.” You cut yourself off when you finally saw his face

Cuts were scattered across his face, one above his eyebrow still dripping blood catching your attention first. He also had a bruise quickly forming on his left cheekbone. Once you moved your eyes more, you saw his nose marked with a deep cut going through the middle. His beautiful nose. It was one of your favorite parts of his appearance. Done scanning his face, your eyes moved down to his chest and his torso. His chest was marked with similar cuts to the one on his back. You kept your eyes on his chest in an attempt to hide the fact you were holding back tears right now. “I’m sorry mi cariño. I really am.” You knew he was. But sorry wasn’t going to keep him safe. This was one apology among many. It didn’t really matter. He wasn’t sorry for getting hurt again and again and again. He was sorry for the fact you had to see him like this. If you wouldn’t have seen that he was injured, he wouldn’t have said anything And you knew after this apology as well, he would go out tomorrow night and do the same thing over again. You didn’t respond to his words. All you could manage to do was pull him into an embrace and apologize when he winced from your hands hitting his cuts. You sat there for a bit, running your hands through his hair and trying to hold yourself back from crying. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted gentle kisses there, each a little apology from him. Once you finally pulled away and wiped your face, you started to clean the scrapes on his face, this time more gentle than his back. You dabbed the cotton ball on his forehead as he held you straddled on his lap. He admired your features as you concentrated on him, rubbing your back with his fingers in the process. You didn’t say much, only a simple “sorry” if you were a little too rough with cleaning. Despite the stern face you were putting on, Miguel knew you secretly liked the way he would grab at your thighs and hips with his claws when you did something that hurt.

Once you were finished, you silently put the first aid equipment away and left the bathroom so he could take a shower. He planted a soft kiss into your forehead before you left the room. Once you crawled back into bed, you sighed to yourself. How did you end up here anyways? There’s no way you were expecting all of this when you first saw Miguel at the concert bar that day. Some days were amazing with him. Others were much harder. And while you’ve definitely had worse days with him, today was leaning on the latter option. You contemplated all of this until you heard the door to the bathroom behind you open, Miguel stepping out of the steaming room with his towel wrapped around his lower body. You were very quickly reminded of one of the reasons you’ve stayed with him for so long. The way his wet curls were laying around his head. How his chest glistened while it was damp, despite currently being tattered with cuts at the current moment. He sleepily shuffled over to the bed, dropping his towel before crawling up close to you in bed. The warmth of Miguel’s freshly showered body against yours helped to melt the majority of your worries away. It also helped that you could feel his his cock getting harder against your leg while he cuddled against you. You finally turned around to face him, cupping his jaw in your hand and rubbing your thumb across his face. He grasped your hand and pressed soft kisses into it. “I love you so much Miggy,” you finally said, breaking the silence and drawing his eyes towards you. “I really do, and I’m sorry if I ever make it seem like I don’t. You just…you scare me sometimes.” You quickly realize those weren’t the words you meant. You begin to stutter and take back your words a bit, until you see that Miguel has given you his full attention. You take a deep breath and continue. “You don’t scare me. It’s more of what you do that scares me. I never know when you’re gonna come back or if you even are. If you think I take joy in taking care of you after you come back, I really don’t. I hate seeing my boy like this. And it makes me scared that one day you’re gonna come back in a shape I can’t fix. It scares me so bad Miggy you don’t even know,” you say, choking back your tears. Once Miguel notices you’re about to start crying, he wraps his arms around you immediately. “Shhh it’s ok preciosa,” he comforts as you quietly cry into his broad shoulders. “I’m so sorry for making you worry,” he says in between kissing the top of your head. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, and I love you too.”

You pull away from his hug and stare into his beautiful crimson eyes as he wipes away your tears. You suddenly fall into the overwhelming urge to kiss him. He returns the kiss with even more passion than you put into it. You quickly found yourself exploring his body with your hands, moans escaping his lips whenever you would graze over one of his wounds. You drew yourself closer to him to absorb more of his body heat, though you were quickly reminded of his bare cock as you could feel it hardening on your leg. Your hands eventually made it down there, teasing Miguel along the way as you felt him up on the way down. You then took his hard, already wet cock into your hands, caressing every ridge you could find on it. You could hear more moans exit his mouth and slide into yours as you handled him like putty. He would let out messier sounds, even a growl at one point, and jerk forward into your hand when you would tease around his tip. “F-fuck baby. Y-you’re s-so good to me. ‘N pr-retty too,” he would blurb out Feeling his cock get increasingly hard in your hand began to make you slightly wet as well. This only increased as Miguel began to take off your underwear as well, sliding two of his fingers into your pussy and placing his thumb to draw circles onto your clit. Your grip on his length becomes lazy and sloppy as you’re stimulated as well. You’re surprised at how quickly Miguel is able to find your clit, but then again you expect him to know your body so well after three years. After both of you have been at it for a while, you’re the first one to get close to your orgasm. “Fuck M-Miggy, I-I’m gonna cum,” you manage to moan out. His kisses on you get sloppy as he reaches his as well. It’s over for you once he begins to put more pressure onto your core. You let out an inhuman noise as your stomach fills with the white heat of your orgasm, shaking your entire body. Miguel takes his fingers out of your entrance and licks your cum off of his fingers. It’s then over for him when you eventually put the pressure of your fingers onto his cock. You hand is then covered in his cum once he reaches his climax in your fist, moaning intensely into the air. While he’s in the middle of his orgasm, his claws pop out of his fingers and into your hips and underneath your thigh where his hands are placed. Then, he lets out his fangs and uses them to leave hickeys into your neck, making sure not to let out any of his poison while doing so. “Just stay here with me Miggy,” you sigh out, his fangs deep into your neck. “You don’t ever need to go back out there again. Just stay here with me forever.” He simply nods at first, still sucking into your neck. Once he lets go and and begins to calm down, he responds with “Forever and always mi corazón,” whispering the words into your ear as he lays more kisses along your collarbone and neck.

You stare outside the window at the falling snow, hoping this time he’ll keep his word, but knowing deep down that he wasn’t going to. But for now, you could just appreciate your time with him now. He was all yours right now. Everything. And that was enough.

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A/N: uhhhh sorry but i didn't feel like proofreading this cause its super late for me rn sorry not sorry lmao

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #x reader #smut #marvel smut #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse

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nejiverse · 7 days

Text

I’LL THINK ABOUT IT

Sae Itoshi [pt. 3 to ‘his amnesiac’]

In which Sae realises just how deeply he missed his fiancée. Fem! Reader

part 2

cw: nothing much, sae’s a closeted softie

1150 words

"This might be a bit selfish of me Sae but, can you stay with me? Until I fall asleep".

Sae approached her and offered a hand, giving her an affirmative nod in response.

She flashed a weak yet appreciative smile and took his hand.

As Y/n laid in bed, her head resting on the pillow, Sae pulled up a chair beside her.

With the weight of her amnesia heavy on her mind, she turned to Sae, seeking answers and comfort. Sae placed his elbow against the nightstand as the side of his head rested against the palm of his hand, his presence a reassuring anchor in the uncertainty of her lost memories.

Y/n pursed her lips as her eyebrows furrowed. "Be honest, do you think i'll ever regain my memories?".

Y/n's question hung in the air, heavy with uncertainty. Sae met her gaze, his expression soft yet contemplative.

"I hope so", he longed for, prayed for her memories to come back. ‘I really do’, he thought to himself.

Y/n hummed in agreement, her eyes gazing elsewhere.

"Y/n", Sae spoke quietly, his voice a comforting melody in the dimly lit room. "I'll take care of you whether you get your memories back or not so don't worry", he hoped his words were enough to encourage her and expel her fears and doubts since he was limited to only words as opposed to actions.

Y/n's heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through her chest. He's been so kind to her despite how she treated him at first, which she really regretted. Sae had no legal obligation to stay by her side after being left with nothing but an amnesiac, but he did. Y/n smiled.

"Thank you, Sae. You've been so patient with me."

Y/n reached out and gently placed her hand over Sae's, her thumb running smoothly along his knuckles. It was a gesture of gratitude.

But for Sae, a rush of emotions flooded through him, catching him off guard. He felt a mixture of relief, longing and a profound sense of connection that he's missed dearly since Y/n's amnesia. Dormant feelings he thought he would have to tuck away forever were arising.

His gaze flickered to Y/n's face, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation, but instead, he found a softness in her eyes, a glimmer of trust and gratitude that filled him with tenderness.

For the first time since her amnesia, Sae felt as though the woman in front of him was the exact same one he met five years ago.

In the midst of his feelings, he failed to notice when Y/n's eyes closed, evident that she had drifted off to sleep.

Sae's eyes lingered on her parted lips for maybe a bit longer than he would've liked. He found his breath caught up in his throat as her features appeared more softer in her state of sleep.

He watched the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the rhythmic pattern of her breathing lulling him into a trance-like state. He let his hand engulf her own fully and interwove his fingers with hers.

Sae found himself inching closer, his heart pounding in anticipation. His mind raced with thoughts of what it would feel like to press his lips against hers once again, to taste the sweetness of her mouth, to lose himself in the intoxicating warmth of her embrace.

But as much as he longed to give in to his aching desires, Sae knew that now was not the time.

With a heavy sigh, Sae tore his gaze away from Y/n, his head in his hands, willing himself to resist the temptation that threatened to consume him. He knew that their time would come, but for now, he would content himself with the simple pleasure of watching her sleep, knowing that she is safe and loved in his presence.

The morning came and Sae was up bright and early.

Putting his ear against Y/n's door, he was able to hear her soft snores, indicating she was still asleep.

Sae made his way downstairs where he opted to make breakfast. He decided to make omelettes.

It wasn’t too long after he got started that he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen.

"Morning", Y/n yawned, trying her best to rub the sleep out of her eyes.

Sae eyed her crazy bed hair, the strap of her nightdress slipping down her shoulder. This cracked a small grin on Sae's face.

"Someone slept well".

"Yes, but still no memories have come back to me".

"It's all in due time, you need to be patient", it was easy for him to say. He wasn't the one that lost his identity. On top of that, he had not a single patient bone in his body.

Y/n hummed, moving closer to Sae to see what he was up to.

Her eyebrows knitted in utmost astonishment. "Are you making breakfast or performing a surgery?", she inquired, eyeing the criminal way in which he was cutting up onions.

Sae rolled his eyes as he huffed a laugh, recalling all the times Y/n used to call him out for his..unique was of chopping vegetables. Some things never change.

"Doesn't matter what way they look, it doesn't change the nutritional value", he retorted, Y/n giggling at his articulate response.

"Oh so you're a dietitian now?!".

As they continued to tease and joke with each other, Sae couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for Y/n, grateful that they could still share moments of levity despite her amnesia.

Deep down he hoped that maybe, just maybe, their playful banter would help spark a flicker of recognition in her mind, bridging the gap between her past and present self.

Y/n's gaze shifted to the window, her fingers lightly tracing the smooth surface of the kitchen counter.

"Say Sae..can we go somewhere?", she asked, arms now crossed against the counter, supporting her weight.

"Like where?".

She didn't have any place in particular really. She just thought the fresh air would do her good. "I don't mind, maybe somewhere that'll help me remember?", additionally, a yearning stirred within her—a yearning to step beyond the confines of the familiar.

"After your unnecessary commentary about my culinary skills, I don't think so".

Y/n could sense the undertone and sass mixed with sarcasm as the words escaped his lips.

Her lips curled into a playful smile as she met Sae's gaze. "Oh, come on!", she retorted, her tone light with amusement. "Alright fine, I promise I won't critique your cooking again", Sae didn't believe the latter of her sentence for one bit. Still, the answer he concocted in his head remained unchanged:

"I'll think about it".

masterlist :)

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