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#me when the wind hits and i have to look in a different direction but in stuck in a time loop i can't escape from and am doomed
angelltheninth · 1 day
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What Goes Down in the Forest
Pairing: Male Forest!Monster x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, predator/prey dynamic, fear play, biting, size difference, creampie, breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, rough sex, brat taming
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: It's raining right now so that puts me in a monster loving mood.
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It was you who suggested this little game to him. The forest was his domain, he knew it like the back of his hand, moved through it seamlessly, with out any issue. And then there was you, you who kept tripping on logs, getting caught on crunches, slipping on the dirt all the while looking behind you to make sure you put enough distance between you and the tall monster chasing you.
To make sure you didn't get too lost he marked the trees you passed by every now and then. You didn't have to be scared of getting lost and even if you did you could rest assured he would bring you back home safe and sound.
"What are you so afraid of then?" The voice came from somewhere behind you. "Is is just adrenaline pumping through your veins that's making your heart beat so fast?" You heard him chuckle, "You don't smell very afraid to me. Horny little human, getting your kicks from something like this. I knew I chose right."
The trees and the wind carried and obscured his voice, still making it impossible to know how close he was. This forest, you learned, worked how he wanted it to.
Everything in here was his. Including you.
You stepped back without looking, your foot catching on the thick tree roots. You yelped, expecting a hard hit. Instead you felt strong arms wrap around you, shielding you from impact. "Are you alright?" His voice calmed you, as deep as it was.
You meet his eyes, deep green in a sea of stormy gray, filled with worry. In his forest you were under his protecting, just like everything else. "Pet, are you hurt anywhere?"
"Ah, no. I'm alright. Thank you for saving me. That... that was lame." You ducked away from his gaze only for one big, clawed hand to cup your cheek. His lips, and upper fangs, pressed against your lips, soothing your worried, "Did I ruin the mood?"
"Does it seem like you did? Look." He gazed down to his cock, still very hard between his legs, aching to be inside you. "I want you, clumsiness and all." He assured you in-between kisses. "Can you run for me again? Put up a fight for me? Or shall I take you as you are? You smell more then ready enough." His hands grabbed both of your hips and lifted you up, his nose pressing against your pants and breathing in the horny scent between your legs.
As much as you wanted to give in right now he just asked you to run for him. So you will run, you will fight and you will get him to rut into you until you can't walk.
You pushed on his slightly curved, dark green horns, feeling the intertwined branches and leaves under your fingers. They wrapped around his horns and his head like a crown, almost giving him an air of royalty, or a god. Truth be told you still don't know if he's either of those. All you knew was that he was the protector of this place.
Gripping his horns tight you wrestled his head away which elicited a deep groan from him. He snarled at you when you kicked him away and started running again, in any direction your legs carried you in.
Before you knew it you were out of breath again. Panting you leaned against a tree. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" The tree had claw marks on it! How the hell did you get turned around?! Was this a trick? He did say he liked to toy with his prey.
Or he somehow ran ahead of you and marked this tree before you got to it. Which meant you needed to run back. Unless that's what he wanted you to think! He was playing mindgames with you, and you weren't in the mood. The blood was not going to your brain at this time.
Two strong hands gripped you from behind the tree, one on your mouth, muffling your screams, the other around your hip, keeping you pinned. "Kicking me in the face? Brave human." His voice was now next to your ear. It was then that you realized that the voice and the arms wasn't coming from behind the tree but from inside it. A male body pushed itself from the bark, stepping next to you but your hands and mouth were still pinned, still closed.
He could do that?
As he looked at you in that helpless state he smirked, his pointy teeth catching your eye, "I'll have you know I've killed people for far less." He tilted his head as he bent closer, his eyes roaming across your body. "Lucky for you, I value the pleasure you provide."
"Do you? Because I haven't gotten any in a while. What would you do if I ended our contract?" You smiled at him, watching his cock stir in protest. "Who would fuck you then? You'd have to wait for some other poor human to get lost in here. But if you can make me feel good now, I might reconsider." The truth was you could do this, if you were an asshole or didn't love your boyfriend. But this was part of your game, you egged him on, wanting to see how he would react.
"And you think I would allow you to walk out of my life just like that after I made you mine? Everything in this forest is mine from the moment it steps foot in. That includes you, my pretty human cocktoy." His hand lazily stroked his cock as he approached you. "I decide if you leave here walking, or carried in my arms, with my cock still inside you. And since you don't seem to understand that I will have to remind your cunt who truly owns it."
His nails turned into sharp black claws and tore through your pants. The cold air hit you immediately. You watched as the green of his eyes eclipsed almost all of the gray.
"Wet and ready. Just how I want you." He growled as he grabbed your leg and pushed it up, revealing your dripping pussy to him. "There it is. My prize."
Rough hands held both your legs open as his cock pushed inside with single smooth stroke. His own pre-cum made it easier then ever before, you could already feel his seed coating your inner walls. "I love how you split me open with your cock." You had to get used to the size, the thickness, the slight structure of it that dragged and stimulated your pussy with every thrust.
His horns grew at your praise, hips pushing closer until they were flush against your own. "I love how well you take me. As if you were made only for me. My cock. My seed. My offspring. Yes... I should... maybe if I put a damn bastard child in your womb you'll see how much you love me."
Your back arched and pussy squeezed around him immediately. You didn't have to say you wanted it now, your body was doing it all for you. "Are you sure it's possible?"
"I will make it possible." He snarled. He pulled back until only the tip remained and then slammed in at full force. Again. And again. And again. "My seed will take." The truth was you were pretty sure it was quite difficult between you two. If you could have gotten pregnant easily you would already be pregnant. He hated condoms. "I'll make you swell with it."
As his pace increased the forest echoed with your moans, the wet pussy squelches, skin slapping against skin, the sound of wood being broken and healed. You pulled against the rough bark around your wrists, aching to get closer to your lover.
His claws dug into your meaty thighs, marking you once again.
It wasn't enough for him. No mark was ever enough for him. As soon as one healed he put a new one in his place. "Tell me you accept it, human. Tell me how much your womb wants my seed." He pushed in all the way, letting you feel his cock pulsing inside you, then pulled out, in and out, deep and long strokes that made your breath hitch. "Tell me!"
The booming voice made your body flinch and your cunt spasm around him. "Fuck! Don't stop now, keep fucking my pussy! It feels good, I-" You whimpered, taking in a quick breath.
He wasn't calming down, wasn't letting your orgasm end, pistoning in and out of you and clenching his teeth to hold his own orgasm back until you told him you wanted it.
"I want you to put a baby in me. Fuck me. Breed me full of your cum. Make sure every human, animal and demon knows it was you who got me pregnant, that it's your kid I'm carrying." The forest itself shook and awoke with his deep, guttural roar. "Right in there, right in my pussy, fuck it all in."
"Not a drop will go to waste." He promised as his hips came to a stop against yours, his arms finding the small of your back as your legs wrapped around his broad hips, feeling the soft fur starting at his hips and running down his legs. It was soft and sticky with cum. It should have been gross, but you loved how it was evidence of your love making. Simultaneously the bark around your aching, bruised wrists dissolved, which allowed you to wrap your arms around his shoulders, tangling your hands into the long black hair that run to his shoulders. "You know I love you. I truly do wish to have a family."
"Maybe it'll work this time. If not we can always keep trying." His forehead pressed against yours, "Hey, even if we can't I won't think less of you. You're the love of my life. And it's not like you see couples like us in nature a lot."
"Nature is supposed to bend to my will. At least in here." His nose brushed against yours, "Let me carry you home."
"Okay. But don't pull out yet. I'm comfy." He chuckled at your cuddly nature. He shared it, so he couldn't blame you. When he walked with you he left new flowers everywhere his foot stepped.
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bedoballoons · 4 months
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I read both mitsuri!reader head cannons (love them)!!! I was wondering if I could request if they met the readers EX who called her all those names and made her insecure.
Thank youuu!!! Also I have been thinking about that and oh my gosh I'm so glad you requested it!!
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃
{༻~Insecurities~༺}
CW: Angsty with comfort!, F! reader gets called names, character helps, established relationships, cursing, and some mentions of weight shaming/eating disorders! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour!)
Also I only wrote 4 characters with this one because it was soooo longggg!!
(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, and Wanderer!)
Past Demon slayer/Genshin fics:
Mitsuri reader pt 1
Mitsuri reader pt 2
Mitsuri like reader X Lyney
Tokito Muichiro reader
Shinobo Kocho reader
Shinobo Kocho reader
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𑁍༄Diluc:
You smiled happily, pink green strands of hair flowing in the wind as you lounged on the blanket Diluc had laid down, the subtle scent of the apples he was cutting for your picnic sweet and tantalising, but sadly enough to make your stomach gurgle uneasily. You wouldn't say it out loud...especially not in front of him, but even despite both of your best efforts you were still finding it difficult to actually consume food. It had become a torture to eat...even when you were hungry or it was your favourite dish...those words just kept coming back.
"Oh my archons...look who it is. Didn't think I would be seeing you outside the gates of Mondstat, especially with the owner of the infamous wine industry."
Your whole body went cold, eyes shooting to the direction of the familiar voice...the voice that had said the words that changed you, that made you see your own body as a mistake. "I-i...ahem, he's my boyfriend." You silently cursed yourself for having such a shaky tone, if Diluc hadn't figured it out just by your reaction...he definitely had when you started to speak.
He stood up with crimson eyes that had gone dark, a menacing look decorating his features as he stared the other man down, "Don't believe we've met, who are you?" You glanced between the two of them, feeling like your presence was steadily growing smaller as they stared eachother down...the situation was making you feel sick to your stomach.
"I'm her ex boyfriend. Honestly I can't believe she caught the owner of the winery, are you some type of chubby chaser?"
That name...it hit you like a ton of bricks, any thoughts of recovery slipping away as tears filled your eyes, but you weren't alone this time. You jumped as Diluc grabbed your ex by his shirt, pulling him close so his fist would be inches away, "If you ever, call her that again...I will find a way to make you disappear, do you understand me? She's perfect the way she is and I love her more than anything else, besides your opinions don't matter...there's only two people who should see her for how goregous she is. Me and her."
𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyney swung your intertwined hands gently, humming a soft melody while the two of you walked through fontaine. It had become a routine now, taking a walk together after his show and sharing a meal, it was one of the few times you enjoyed eating...mostly because you weren't actually focused on the food. Your attention was drawn to Lyney, the way he always seemed to be glowing with love and excitement after a show, the way he talked with adoration and he never once failed to mention how you'd inspired one of his tricks, it was so calm...that just for a moment you forgot everything else.
"Oh mon amour! Look a new shop has opened up, how about we eat there?" You tiled your head to see past him and sure enough there was a new shop, bustling with customers. "Oh Lyney...it's so crowded though." He chuckled, pulling you into a warm embrace, his eyes meeting yours as he placed a kiss on your lips lovingly, "I won't force you, but...we could just get something to eat and then find a nice quiet spot, it would be different...in a good way."
A light blush dusted your cheeks as you let him lead you to the crowd, silently agreeing to his adventurous ideas like you always seemed to.
"No way...is that you?! You haven't changed one bit have you?"
You stopped dead in your tracks, emotions all but gone at the sound of that voice...the one that haunted your nightmares and used to make you feel so small...treat you like you were nothing but a number on a scale. He seemed to be waiting for your response, but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything...you were frozen in place, heart racing.
"Mon amour who's this?" You glanced at Lyney, wondering if he could tell you were uncomfortable, but he didn't appear to have any difference in attitude...had he really not noticed?
"I'm the one who was trying to keep her out of these foodlines so she wouldn't get any fatter, looking out for her health like a good boyfriend should do...guess you can't say the same."
For a split second you thought Lyney was going to strike him, instead he chuckled and lowered his voice to almost a whisper, a terrifying tone seeping into his words as he spoke, "You should really stop talking....I happen to be apart of the fatui and truthfully, if you utter one more word about my perfect girl, you won't be able to say anything at all by the time we are done with you."
𑁍༄Albedo:
Klee held onto your hand tightly, pulling you through the crowded streets with Albedo trailing not far behind. The air was filled with the delicious smells of baked goods and fresh made dishes, and the streets were decorated with stalls that held bottles of wine, toys, banners, anything you could imagine. It was a festival like no other and you couldn't believe you got to be apart of it.
"Come on come on!! We are almost to the stage! Dodoco wants to see it all decorated!!" You giggled happily, following the little girl as she lead you up to the big stage in the center of all of the magic. It really was a sight to see, ribbon and cecilia's hung up with fairy lights, a sweet bard strumming away on his lyre while he sang of a hero from another land and to top it all of, there were dancers not far away, each of them moving to the melody with their partners.
"Wow...this is incredible." You stood in awe for a second as Albedo lifted Klee onto his shoulders, her hands holding dodoco in the air so it could watch along with her. It was a picture perfect moment,...one you wanted to remember forever...until it was ruined. Your eyes landed on met that of a person walking towards you...a familiar face you had thought you'd left in the past.
You crossed your arms over yourself protectively, hoping he wouldn't say a word to you, but of course that would only be to easy, "Heyy look who it is...see you got yourself a new partner to shove food in your mouth. He's clearly feeding you right isn't he?"
Your breath caught in your throat, your clothes suddenly feeling tighter and your previous small meal you'd barely managed to take a few bites of rumbling in your tummy.
"Im sorry what was that? Clearly you must be blind, she's truthfully a work of art and without a doubt the most stunning woman I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. Perhaps you should go get another plate of food, actually make it two since you look like you could probably eat both, and stop bothering everyone with that tragic excuse of a voice you have."
"A-a-albedo?!"
𑁍༄Wanderer:
Wanderer huffed quietly as you pushed away your plate of food, less then half of it missing and yet you were already feeling queasy? It bugged him to no end,...no matter how many times he said you were perfect and argued with you that your weight was never a issue...you still thought it was. He begged you, something he never thought he never thought he'd do, to try and see yourself from his perspective, but it didn't work.
"You want some of mine? Maybe you'd like it more if it was different? Hey? What's up with you?" Wanderer waved his hand in front of your face, surprised to see fear in your eyes and goosebumps forming on your skin, you didn't even look like you were breathing you were so deathly still. It actually freaked him out a little, could humans just die like that?
"Hey stop that, you're making me all worried. What are you looking at?" He tapped your hand, but with no response he turned to follow your line of sight...it was just some guy? That's what had you all scared?, "Who is he? Did he beat you up? I won't let him hurt you if that's what you're afraid of." You shrunk into your chair, footsteps drawing closer as the some guy made his way to your table...
"If it isn't my ex girlfriend. I really didn't think I'd be seeing you at a restaurant...actually I did completely, I'm more shocked you don't have three plates finished yet. Piggy. Even got the pink green hair to prove it...and who's this clown, his hats bigger than he is."
You covered your face in embarrassment, trying to hide away from the situation...not let either men know how much it bothered you, but Wanderer was to clever for that and he took no shame in starting something...
"How about I take my big hat and shove it so far up your ass you see actual pigs fly. Maybe then you'd know the difference between when you should keep your mouth shut and when you should open it. Oh and moron, she's clearly not a pig cause she looks nothing like you."
He stood up with a grunt, pushing the guy so harshly he was sent backwards falling to the ground with a satisfying thud while your boyfriend grabbed your hand and lead you away, telling you more than once how beautiful you looked as you made your way home.
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◥(•̀₩•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧
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The last few people had logged off the server, leaving it in its burnt, damaged state.
She knew where Gem would be.
Cleo scaled up the ladder and clambered up to the rickety roof of Joel’s tower — where you could look out on the entire server.
Sure enough, Gem was perched on the railing, sitting on the edge with nothing to support her but the wind, staring in the direction of the Secret Keeper.
Cleo looked around at the short cobble walls. Grian had told her that he’d hid away here. Not a bad strategy, overall. You could shut yourself here and forget everywhere else existed.
“Hey, Cleo.”
“Am I that loud?” Cleo joked weakly.
“Who else?”
Cleo watched as the last remains of the green flesh flaked off Gem’s skin, leaving her regular human tones. “No more zombies now, then? Good job, anyway. Killing people left and right.”
“Not you, though.”
“Not me. Only way I’m going out is my way. I’d rather die on my own stupidity than someone else’s callousness.” Cleo allowed a hint of pride to enter her voice. “You were great zombies, though.”
“We weren’t zombies.” Gem turned and hopped down from the railing.
Cleo noticed that unlike the other zombies, or even Scott or Grian, Gem didn’t have a single scratch or injury, save one neat bandage that no doubt was due to Scar’s reckless arrows.
Which meant the blood splattering her face wasn’t her own. “What do you mean?”
“That’s not how zombies work. No offence, Cleo, but most zombies aren’t sentient.”
Cleo blinked. “No worries, I know they aren’t. I kill plenty of them at night.”
“So you should know how they work. They’re mindless. They lurch along, they kill without thinking, they probably bump into trees.”
Gem tilted her head. “They don’t set TNT traps, or betray their teammates, or ask for permission to kill their wife’s perceived murderer.”
Cleo’s mouth was dry. “So you’re saying…”
“I’m saying the apocalypse wasn’t zombies, Cleo. It was human.”
Horribly, incredibly human.
Cleo remembered when they were up on the tower, staring at the others down below, condemning them as monsters.
Somehow, it was better to think of them as a mindless horde and not people she’d been laughing and arguing with a session ago.
Gem was watching her. “You know I’m right. Look at Pearl. Was running from us, convinced we were infected or something but once she realised she had permission to kill, she went in. Even unleashed a warden, or two. That’s how quickly we switch.”
Ironically, Cleo realised, the roles had been swapped this session. The humans were chasing the zombie, but it hadn’t been any different.
“That’s not true,” Cleo said, “It’s not all bad. Did you know, Grian snuck down from this tower to check on his magma pet, and I was there too. And so was Etho. He didn’t kill us.”
Irritation flashed across Gem’s face. “He didn’t kill you? If he had, or, like, told us your location or something, we could’ve all just gone after Scott, and, and, the task would’ve succeeded…”
She trailed off, and looked at Cleo. “Is that the point you’re trying to make here?”
Cleo shrugged.
“Alright, I get it,” Gem grumbled, “No need to rub your holier-than-thou alliance and great morals in my face.”
“Well, no one asked you to put your task over your bandmates.”
Gem didn’t say anything to that.
“It’s not as if I’m exactly a paragon of morality either.” Cleo continued.
“I guess not.” Gem gave a short laugh. “Neither am I. You know, all the murder and stuff? I don’t feel bad! In fact, I feel great. I feel proud of myself for it.”
“…I feel you should be a little less bloodthirsty.”
Gem smiled at Cleo, an innocent, cheerful smile that would have been such if not for the circumstances. “Oh, no.”
Cleo was suddenly feeling very unsafe on the highest platform on the server. She wished Etho was here, or even Grian.
She knew Gem couldn’t take any lives, not now, not when the session was already over. But still…
Cleo raised her sword to stop the axe swing that came, but it was a feint, and her sword hit nothing.
Gem dramatically swung her axe back into her inventory.
“You really thought I would attack you?” Gem said.
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” Cleo retorted curtly.
“That’s true,” Gem conceded. “But the curse is just so- it’s so freeing, Cleo? Can’t you see? You could do anything.”
“Uh- no thanks. Session’s over, anyway,” Cleo pointed out.
“That’s true. But I’m still kinda cursed, you know.”
In response, Cleo warily raised her sword. But all that Gem did was deliver a mock salute before logging off with a chirpy “See you next week!”
Cleo stood silently. There had been one zombie on the platform just now. Her.
And thinking about it, she wasn’t sure if there hadn’t been two.
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imababblekat · 6 months
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To Catch A Turtle
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@foxespen, "So part of the spiderman powers are having enhanced strength, right? So they could probably pick up any one of the turtles pretty easy, even if they stand at like half the brothers’ height. Imagine during a fight one of the boys gets thrown off a roof and their friendly neighborhood spider catches them and is just hold them bridal style and says like “if you’re gonna fall for me, it doesn’t have to be on a roof”Or something"
~xXx~
It wasn’t often the boys and (s,n) would get into a tough fight, but it seemed that with BeBop and Rocksteady, it always was one. They were two formidable foes for the ninja turtles alone, so having someone like you to fight along side them in these cases was always a welcome advantage.
When Donnie had relayed an alert from Casey, it wasn’t long till the four brothers found themselves fighting the two enemy mutants atop a bank building. Five minutes into the fight and you made your entrance by web launching yourself into BeeBop’s face, with a corny, “Starting the party without me I see!”, as you back flipped off the warthogs face. Just like that, with cheerful greetings, you and the crime fighting terrapins fell into sync, dishing out all you could against the other two. However, as the fight drew on, perhaps due to growing exhaustion, not everyone was able to stay on top of their toes.
“What do these guys even want?!”, you asked aloud, dodging a thrown pipe and landing next to Leo.
The leader in blue charged forward, swinging his dual swords at Rocksteady who was quick to hold up a chunk of broken building to block the attack. Narrowly ducking out of a punch from BeBop, Donnie swung his staff into the warthogs side, earning a harsh yelp from the assailant.
“Not sure. April thinks they’re making some sort of deal and need the cash to do so.”
“Stay out of our business, turtles!”, BeeBop snapped, grabbing Donnies staff and shoving the taller terrapin back into Raphael who had tried to attack from the side.
“The zoo’s not going to take you two, no matter how much you bribe them!”, you quipped, easily dodging Bebops attacks and jumping onto his back, blinding him with multiple web shots and tugging him in different directions as he started a blind rampage.
A loud laugh came from Mikey as he watched you rodeo the warthog, Leo and Donnie running towards you to assist.
“Good one, angel cakes!”, Mikey winked, just missing a punch from Rocksteady.
“The insects jokes are lame!”, the rhino grunted with irritation, grabbing a hold of Mikeys swinging nun-chuck and pulling him forward to give him a hard kick.
“Hey! Only I can call their jokes lame!”
Rocksteady quickly looked over at the person who had shouted, only to suddenly be tackled by a very heated Raphael. With a strong hold of the larger mutants midsection, the red clad ninja used all of his might to push the other to the edge of the building. Despite nearly having the wind knocked out of him by Raphael, Rocksteady was quick to firmly grasp his shell. With a loud grunt from above, Raphael had suddenly found himself being lifted into the air, staring down at a triumphant Rocksteady before being sent flying over the tall buildings edge. The last thing heard, as Raphael struggled to regain sense of what was up and what was down, were his brothers frantically shouting after him. At the height he just been thrown from, Raphael knew that even collapsing into his shell would prove futile to the crushing gravity once he hit the streets below.
Out of nowhere, Raphael felt his stomach lurch back and forth as something, or rather someone, swiftly swung him from one side of a building to another in a quick descent. It wasn’t till the world stopped spinning around him did Raphael peek open an eye, confusion followed quickly by shock when he realized who had been his savior.
“You know, Raphael, you make quite the cute damsel in distress if I do say so myself.”, you cheekily jested, and said turtle could just picture your eyebrows wagging beneath your mask.
(S,n) had been holding the bulky terrapin like he was air. Their arms snuggly wrapped beneath his knees and the midsection of his shell. Despite the alarming size difference, you cradled Raphael so carefully and securely, in a way that he had wished to someday carry a significant other. Yet, to be the one being held in such a manner, caused the macho man of a turtle to feel his face quickly heat up, and scramble out of your arms even quicker when he heard the approaching foot steps of his brothers. One could practically feel the heat of embarrassment radiating off of him, as he tried desperately to play things cool.
“What happened to BeBop and Rocksteady?”, Raph questioned his brothers, hoping beyond belief that they hadn’t seen a thing.
“They managed to get away, but not without leaving behind what they tried to steal. Casey and the NYPD are on their way to pick up the stolen goods.”, Leo informed, looking between his flustered sibling and the spider person beside him.
Raphael just let out a scoff, turning sharply and walking off in a random direction.
“Where are you going?”, Mikey confusingly asked.
“To find my sai's.”
“Your welcome by the way!”, you shouted out, to which Raphael simply sent you back a deep scowl before returning to his search.
Despite the aggravated grumbling you could hear come from the hot headed person you saved, you continued to smile to yourself, the squinted eyes of your mask telling of your hidden expression. Pulling out a pen and small note pad, the parchment labeled (s,n) Notes, Donnie began to scribble away.
“Did he even weigh anything to you?”, he questioned with scientific curiosity.
You shrugged, hands on your hips as you peered up at Donnie.
“Like a feather.”
“Oo, oo! Me next!”, Mikey excitedly shouted, bounding towards you at top speed.
Not even your spidey senses could have prepared you for Mikey’s suddenness, you both collapsing to the ground just as you’d barely caught him in your arms. Leo merely shook his head in slight disappointment, Donnie continuing to jot down notes, and Raphael in the distance still trying to calm his flustered heart.
~xXx~
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mandos-mind-trick · 6 months
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Warm Me Up
Summary: A freak storm has you and Hunter seeking shelter in a cave. The desperation to get warm has some hidden feelings coming to light.
Pairing: Hunter x reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, confession of feelings, snow storms, almost freezing to death (not really but close), hypothermia, survival skills, cuddling for warmth, fucking to survive, cock warming (literally and figuratively), post Order 66, bit of an AU
A/N: I am once again bringing you Hunter and reader fucking to survive only under different circumstances. I have been in a Hunter mood lately so you are welcome.
Thank you @starrylothcat for the idea for this one.
MASTERLIST
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It’s cold. 
The wind whips around you, finding every crack and crevice in your armor, numbing your skin. The storm had blown in out of nowhere, whipping big, wet snowflakes at you on a wind so strong it was hard to stand up straight. It’s a near whiteout, and even Hunter is struggling to break trail in front of you. 
He stops, turning to look at you a couple feet behind him, half to make sure you’re still following him. “There’s a cave up ahead.” He says, voice barely audible over the wind through the comms. 
Your fingers are going numb. You’d lost feeling in your feet not long after the storm started, already having been trekking through ankle deep snow. “Lead the way, Sarge.” You mumble, trying to convince your legs to start moving again. 
It’s slow moving for the few hundred yards until you see the mountainside jutting out in the blizzard. As you get closer, you can see the dark opening of the mouth of the cave like a monster waiting to devour you. You hope that’s not the case, but you suppose a monster’s mouth would be warmer than out here. 
You follow Hunter inside, the torch in his hand illuminating the small cavern. It’s not very wide, your shoulders would probably touch the walls if you stood side by side, but it’s deep enough to keep you from the howling wind outside. 
You’re shivering, teeth chattering as you stand in the dark cave. The storm was blocking your comms, preventing you from reaching the Marauder. This was supposed to be a quick mission, which was why you and Hunter had gone alone, leaving the others with the ship. Tech had assured you both the weather was going to be clear for the foreseeable future. 
You’re going to have words with him when you get back. 
“Kriff, it’s cold.” Hunter says, scanning the back of the cave before determining it clear. 
He turns back around, his torch illuminating your shivering figure. Neither of you had real cold weather gear, and Hunter’s armor was better protection against it than yours. 
“How are your toes?” He asks, stepping closer. 
“Numb.” You say, voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around your face. 
“And your fingers?” He asks. 
You lift your hands, fingers fumbling in an attempt to get your gloves off. He shines the torch on your exposed extremities as soon as they hit the floor, a curse crackling through his helmet. Your fingers are discolored and stiff, trembling as more shivers wrack your body. 
“We need to get warm.” He says, pulling you back towards the back of the cave. “We won’t last the night at this rate.” 
“H-How do we do that?” You stutter out between your chattering teeth. You were both ill prepared for this situation. 
“Take your clothes off.” 
You’re glad the cave is dark as the words leave Hunter’s mouth, the torch pointing at the wall as he removes his pack. You’re worried you may start steaming in embarrassment from the direct order. 
You’ve been harboring a crush on him for a while. It started during one of your first missions with them. Of course, you thought he was handsome when you first met him, but you didn’t start developing feelings until he saved your life. You were relatively new to combat, though fighting wasn’t anything new, and you had failed to see the explosive at your feet. Hunter had pulled you out of the way and shielded you with his body. 
He’d had his helmet on, but you couldn’t forget the way his hand felt on your arm, the way he looked hovering over you. You thought about it a lot. You still do. 
You had fallen in love with him after the war ended, and he had willingly gone toe-to-toe with Tarkin to keep you on the squad. Tarkin had wanted to reassign you, but Hunter had insisted you were part of Clone Force 99 and they wouldn’t be as efficient without you. 
You hadn’t dared act on it, though. He was technically your superior and you were not about to try pushing those boundaries. Plus, he’d never shown any interest in you in that way, and the last thing you wanted was to do was make things awkward. 
You also just haven’t had time. 
Between the Empire and deserting and being on the run and adjusting to having a literal child on board, you had little downtime for much else. You know Hunter’s stressed and has been feeling the effects of trying to keep everyone alive and deciding what to do next. 
The last thing you want to do is throw your feelings on him too. 
And now here he is, asking you to get naked in a cave with him. 
“What?” You stutter out, looking up at him, his face barely visible. He’s removed his helmet.
“Our clothes are wet. We can’t get warm wearing wet clothes. We’ll risk hypothermia, or worse.” He explains, his helmet hitting the ground with a thud. “Seeing as how we don’t know how long this storm will last and if we’ll be able to reach the Marauder by comm when it does end, getting warm is our priority.” 
His voice is so steady, so strong, reflecting every bit of the leader he is. 
This is moving much faster than you had expected. You’d thought maybe a nice dinner, or a walk on the beach, at least something before your clothes started coming off. Of course, survival was different. You would like to keep your toes if possible. 
Your numb fingers fumble to get your pack off as Hunter turns his back, digging through his pack. You’re glad for the darkness and the privacy as you tug at your own armor, fingers fumbling with clasps and straps as you slowly drop pieces onto the ground. 
You pause as Hunter turns slightly, putting something on the floor. The cave lights with a soft yellow glow of a heat lamp, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth. So you weren’t going to freeze completely. The walls of the cave glitter with frost, your breath visible in the air as you continue to strip out of your armor. 
You hesitate once your armor is off, staring at Hunter’s back. He’s making slow work of his armor, setting each piece in a pile next to his pack. You’ve watched them carefully stack their armor over and over. They always show it such reverence, though you suppose if it is your lifeline and one of your few belongings, you would treat it as such too. They always stack it in a way that would be quickest to get it back on and you can’t help but wonder if they practiced it. How fast can they get in and out of their armor if the need arose? 
You bend over your pack, fumbling through its contents before your fingers hit what you’re looking for. One of the spare GAR blankets that came in each survival kit the squad carried. Working separate from larger battalions meant you had to carry more supplies with you for situations like this one. 
You could cry as you pull the scratchy blanket from your pack. 
You would cry, except that it feels like all liquid is frozen in your body. 
You hesitate, eyeing Hunter’s back before you begin peeling your wet blacks off, goosebumps forming on your skin as it's exposed to the cold air in the cave. You fight off a shiver, shuffling closer to the heat lamp as you peel the rest off. You quickly wrap the blanket around your body, squatting down in front of the heat lamp. You can already feel the warmth from them on your exposed skin, toes starting to tingle. 
Your eyes move to Hunter, his back still turned to you. You swallow thickly as he tugs the top of his blacks over his head, revealing his back. Your eyes trail the tattoo on the right side until it disappears under his blacks. You’ve seen them all in various states of undress before. It was impossible in a confined space like the barracks or the Marauder. 
There had never been any insinuation, no lingering stares when you’d done a quick change. They were always so respectful, always so kind. 
You felt bad for ogling them sometimes. 
You quickly tuck your face in the blanket as Hunter tugs his pants down, praying you don’t start steaming. You want to look, you so badly want to look, but the last thing you need is to get caught being a creep. 
Hunter moves closer to you, spreading something on the ground behind you. You nearly jump as his hand touches your back, warm through the blanket against your cold skin. He’s squatting next to you, very close to you as you peek out from your blanket. 
“Do you trust me?” He asks, those stupid big, brown eyes shining in the low light from the heat lamp. 
You stare at him for a moment before you nod. He pulls the blanket from the death grip you have around it, eyes never leaving yours as he opens it up, slipping his arms inside. His bare skin meets yours, turning you until your back is to his chest. He maneuvers you so easily so you’re laying on the blanket he had spread on the ground, curling his body around yours before draping your blanket across you both. 
He sighs as he settles into place, his hand trailing down your arm. His hand is calloused from years of hard training, rough against your frigid skin. “Kriff, you’re freezing.” He murmurs, pulling you tighter against his chest. 
Your breath hitches as his skin meets yours, cold but not nearly as frozen as yours. You can feel every ridge of muscle, every line, every divot of his body. You can feel all of him. You try not to think about it, try not to picture every fantasy you’ve had, every daydream of being in this very position with him. 
Instead you focus on your shivering, the chill slowly abating as your shared warmth cumulates under the blanket. You can feel the heat lamp on your face, slowly thawing your frozen cheeks. You can also feel Hunter’s breath fanning over the top of your head. 
You let your eyes drift closed, trying to avoid the thoughts racing through your head. You’re naked. Hunter’s naked. You’re very, very close. You’ve imagined this moment many, many times. Of course, it’s always under different circumstances. Normally in your fantasies, he’d hold you like this after you fucked, or on those short trips between missions when you try to get as much rest as possible. In the deeper fantasies you wake in his arms in your quiet home, the early morning light shining through the window. You’d grind against him, teasing him until he slipped inside you, making sweet love to you as you have all the time in the world, and no cares whatsoever. 
Heat begins to bloom in your belly. You know it’s not just from the warmth beginning to return to you. You desperately fight it, trying to ignore the pulsing between your legs and instead focus on the roaring of the wind outside the cave, the painful throbbing in your toes, the scratchiness of the blanket, anything. 
Hunter shifts just slightly behind you, letting out a long breath. Kriff, he can probably smell it. He could probably smell it before your body even started reacting. He knows. He knows. 
You shift slightly, ignoring the way your thighs slide a little too easily against each other. “Sorry.” You breathe, nervously tugging on the edge of the blanket. 
He hums, his fingers trailing down your front. He presses his palm against your belly, causing your breath to hitch. He shifts his legs and suddenly there’s something pressing against your ass. Something hard. “Nothing to apologize for, mesh’la.” He murmurs in your ear, his voice so low and deep you can feel it vibrating through your back. 
"Hunter?" You ask, staring at the heat lamp. 
He hums, pressing closer to you, his breath fanning your ear. 
Your breath catches in your throat, your exhale shaky. "I'm still cold. Could you warm me up a little more?"
His arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you firmly against him as his lips meet the skin of your neck. He kisses a line from your ear to the junction of your shoulder, the hand that had been planted on your stomach slowly sliding lower. It slips between your thighs, grabbing one and lifting it over his hip. Your hands cling to the arm wrapped around you as he slides his fingers down your inner thigh. Your body is shivering for a different reason now. 
You gasp quietly as his fingers trail over your wet slit, hips pushing into his hand. It’s so much better than your fantasies, those dexterous fingers flicking over your clit. 
“All this just for me?” He murmurs in your ear, his voice low and rough. 
“Yes,” You gasp, nails biting into his skin as he works you up. “Been thinking of this for a long time.” 
“I know.” He says, sinking a finger into you. “I could sense it. At first I could smell it. I always wondered what you were thinking about.” He slips a second finger into you. “Didn’t take long to figure it out.” He kisses the side of your head. “Your heart rate would jump. Sometimes I’d smell it while you were looking at me. I was flattered. A gorgeous woman like you thinking about me like that.” 
You wiggle in his arms, just enough so you can see his face. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 
He pauses his movements, his fingers stilling inside you. “Didn’t want to complicate things. Then everything happened with the Empire and I just haven’t had the right moment.” 
“Fair.” You say, eyes dropping to his lips. “Not a whole lot of places to do things like this in the ship.” 
He grins. “No, especially not with the others there.” His thumb brushes over your clit, fingers starting to thrust into you once more. “I’m going to find us a safe place to stay.” He says, words broken by kisses as he trails them up your neck. “Build us a home with lots of privacy.” He kisses across your face to the corner of your lips. “So we can do this whenever we want.” 
You hum, backing away from his lips before he can kiss you. “Usually I require a date first, but I’ll make an exception.” 
“I’ll make it up to you.” He says, lips brushing yours as he speaks. “I promise.” 
You close the small distance between you, pressing your lips to his. He kisses you softly, lips slightly chapped from the cold. His fingers continue to move inside you, curling to find that spot that has your legs shaking. His thumb circles your clit, bringing you closer and closer to sweet release. 
You whine against his lips as you cum around his fingers, soaking his hand with your release. He pulls away from your lips, withdrawing his hand before he lifts his fingers, taking them into his mouth. You watch, slack-jawed as he sucks his fingers clean. 
“Fuck buying me dinner,” You say, rolling around to face him. “If you’re gonna act like that you can skip all those steps.” 
He laughs, rolling on top of you. It’s a mirror of the moment you first began to have feelings, when he’d saved your life. You suppose he also saved your life again in this situation. Perhaps he needs to save your life more often if it’s going to end with him on top of you. 
He lowers himself down, pressing his lips to yours once more. You kiss him hard, tangling a hand in his hair. You’ve always wanted to touch it, always wanted to run your fingers through it, pull on it to see if it makes him moan. You file that away for another day. 
He’s hard, pressed against your stomach. His hips rock against you, dragging his cock along your skin. You slide your hands down his back, grabbing a handful of his ass. You’ve always wanted to grab it, having spent way too much time memorizing the shape of his body. His broad shoulders and thin waist and round ass and thick thighs. 
He really is the perfect man. 
“Fuck,” He moans, pulling away from your lips to press himself up. 
He’s away just long enough to line his cock up, your legs parting even wider for him. You both moan as he sinks into you, your sensitive walls fluttering around the intrusion. You pull him back against you, securing him tightly to your chest. His lips find yours again, kissing and biting as he begins to move. 
His thrusts are slow, working you open for him. It feels better than you could ever imagine, better than your fantasies could come up with. You’re no longer cold, even your toes warmed by his body and his touch. The air in the cave even feels warm, the blizzard outside nothing compared to the fire ignited beneath your skin at Hunter’s touch. 
You move your hips as he picks up speed, your bodies moving fluidly together. You let go, moaning as loud as you can. You don’t care if you accidentally wake some beast deep in the mountains. You want the whole galaxy to know how good Hunter makes you feel. 
Hunter grunts and moans above you, snapping his hips into you. You cling onto him as you begin to feel the burning low in your stomach, the coil tightening more and more as you get closer and closer to the edge. 
“Cum for me.” Hunter growls, nipping at your lower lip. “Let me feel you.”
You cry out his name as you cum, back arching in pleasure. He’s not far behind you, his head falling back as he stutters to a stop, filling you with his cum. You let him fall on top of you, wrapping your arms around him. 
He lays there, both of you catching your breaths. He’s heavy, a solid weight, but you don’t complain. He’s warm, and he makes you feel safe. He kisses your neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty skin. He groans, already starting to go hard inside you again. 
***
You wake to a bright light in your eyes. You squint, ducking your head down under the blanket. Hunter groans, shifting his arms around you. It’s quiet outside, far quieter than it had been last night. 
“Storms over.” Hunter rasps, not making any attempt to move. 
He’s still inside you, his softened cock tucked inside your pussy. You’d fallen asleep after the third round, the exhaustion finally taking over after you were thoroughly warmed. You don’t really want to get up. You don’t really want to move. You know the others have to be worried, after all you hadn’t been able to contact them after the storm blew in. You’re not even sure how far you are from the Marauder. 
It may be a bit selfish, but you wish you could stay here. Build yourselves a tiny home in this cave and never leave. Just the two of you, alone, like your fantasies had once consisted of. 
You know it’s not possible now. You couldn’t abandon the others like that, and you could never convince Hunter to abandon Omega, not that you would ever want to. You’ll just have to find a place to build a big enough house for all of you. 
“We should get up.” Hunter says, still not making any attempts to move. “The others will be worried.” 
You hum, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Five more minutes?” 
He chuckles, lifting your chin so he can kiss you. “I suppose five minutes won’t hurt anything.” 
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611 notes · View notes
theprettyarachnid · 5 months
Note
A scenario where Gojo is teasing a girl he likes. He says "you know you like me", only for her to respond "So what if i do? What are you going to do about it?"
a/n: of course!! also this is when they’re in high school and he’s happy and everything is okay
warnings: none :)
The pencil wobbles on your index finger as you stare at it with your eyebrows crossed. A gentle breeze blows through, moving some stray hairs into your face, but also knocking the pencil off your finger and onto the table.
“Ugh!” You were so stupidly bent on being able to do it. Maybe it was because you saw Gojo do it too many times to count. He always did it when he was bored.
“You really suck at this, you know that right?” You jump a little and turn around to see Gojo looking down at you and the pencil. You roll your eyes mimicking him.
“It was the wind!” You shout as Gojo takes a seat on the table. He picks up the pencil flipping it between his fingers.
“Sure and I’m not the strongest.” He gives you a smirk and removes his sunglasses to give you a wink. You roll your eyes making him laugh.
“Keep that cocky attitude up and I’ll never fall for you.” His eyebrows raise.
“So… you’re saying I have a chance?” He smiles leaning forward. You move closer to him to the point where you can feel his warm breath on your lips. He tries to hide it but you see his cheeks become a little flushed.
“No, Satoru Gojo.” You smile and get up from your seat. You kept help but quietly revel taking in his expression. You only get so far before you hear him shout.
“Do you at least wanna go bowling with Suguru and I?” You start to walk backwards.
“Will Shoko be there? We can only deal with you two one at a time for so long!” You laugh and turn back around, already knowing the answer.
Suguru gets a spare and you watch the silly bowling screen and its animations. You hear Gojo jokingly boo in the background as he gets up for his turn. Suguru gently shoved Gojo in the shoulder.
“Don’t slip this time, I don’t feel like carrying you to the car.” You laugh at Suguru’s comment as Gojo gives him a dirty look. You look at the score boards and see that you and Gojo are practically tied.
“Hey Y/n, what do I get if I beat you?” He asks readying himself to throw the bowling ball.
“Oh god, not this again.” Shoko rolls her eyes and moves over to Suguru. You hear them quietly chit chat about how this ‘always’ happens.
“Who says you’re going to beat me?” You ask taking a sip of your drink.
“I do!” He says as the ball rolls down the lane. Your mouth drops a little when it gets a strike. He turns around with a smile on his face and hear Shoko snickering with Suguru. You look over at them making them look in different directions.
You get up from your seat as Gojo’s points go up. He leans against the machine where you put your names with a stupid look on his face.
“Well?”
“I haven’t even played my turn yet. Besides, you’re not getting anything.” You say with your hands on your hips. His lips thin out and condescendingly taps his temple as if he’s trying to think. He smiles.
“I get to kiss you.” Your face deadpans and you shove him out of the way. Your face flushes a little and you’re glad he can’t see it. Gojo laughs as you pick up a bowling ball.
“Stupid Gojo.” You mumble and you throw the bowling ball and watch it go down the lane. You find yourself praying to be tied. What if he does actually kiss you? What if you actually like it? The bowling ball hits the pins and you sigh in relief until there’s only one standing. You already know he’s behind you.
“I win.” You can hear the smirk on his face.
You all get out of the car and walk back on campus. You and Shoko drag behind a little and she gives you an expectant look while lighting a cigarette.
“What?” You ask
“What did Six Eyes demand?” She asks and offers you a puff.
“No thanks,” you give a slight gesture with your hand. “And he didn’t demand anything, he was just being cocky and annoying.” Shoko gives you an unconvincing hum.
“Well anyway, I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” She waves goodbye and you watch as Suguru does the same. Gojo slows to your pace.
There’s a silence that you desperately want to fill but you don’t know what to say. You brush arms and he suddenly stops walking. He looks at you with those blue eyes and lets out a sigh.
“You know, you don’t actually have to kiss me.” He says with a small smile. Your lips thin out, not know what to say, but you knew a part of you wanted to kiss him.
“I know.”
Gojo gently grabs your hands in his and leans down. Your eyes close when you feel him kiss your forehead and you notice the small smile forming on your face. He pulls away to see you still smiling.
“Is… Is that a smile I see?” He teases
“No!” You deny making you both laugh. You were still holding hands.
“One of these days, you’re going to have to admit you love me.” You scrunch your nose a little while smiling.
“Who says I don’t already?” You can read his expression even though you couldn’t see his eyes. There were a few moments of silence between the two of you. “Well Gojo?”
You get caught into a surprise when Gojo kisses you on the lips. They were soft and they tasted like the m&m’s he ate at the bowling alley. You both pull away a little before he whispers:
“You should call me Satoru.”
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vonev · 7 months
Note
Hey there! Can you do a Miguel x spiderwoman reader where during a mission Miguel accidentally hurts you pretty badly while trying to get you out of the way of the anomaly, leaving you in a medically induced coma for a couple days while you heal? I wanna see an incredibly gentle, guilt-ridden Miggy visiting you when you wake up and treating you like you’re made of glass
Calling (just to save you, I'd give all of me)
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Miguel O'Hara x reader Oneshot
Words: 6.06k (yeah i know)
Warnings: Graphics depictions of Violence, Angst, Blood and Violence.
Summary:
A mission gone wrong, some crying, more suffering, rocky relationships (emphasis on the rocky part)
And after all of it, you prevailed. With him.
Tl;dr: Miguel is a crybaby
It was a normal Tuesday night at the headquarters. 11 pm to be exact.
God knows why you stayed as long as you did—having to juggle missions upon missions the entire week because Miguel decided to loosely throw them at you.
Capturing what seemed like an endless sea of anomalies.
“You’re our most capable.” He had said, not even facing you when he once again sent you off on another job to fend for yourself. 
Trying to ask to be replaced was met with a sounding “No.” from the big guy himself, so you stopped trying altogether.
Less questions, more work.
Even if the side of your ribs were bruised from the last encounter with a previous anomaly.
Whatever. Bringing your injury up would just have you end up being demeaned and insulted like a school kid who skipped last week’s homework. At least that was what you assumed.
You grew tired of it eventually, wanting to have more than 6 hours of sleep per day and being able to actually live your life—the birthday cake for a friend sat comfortably inside the fridge of your apartment lingers on your mind as you swung through the familiar sight of the city; another rendition of New York, another variant of an anomaly. 
That wasn’t to say you didn’t enjoy the thrill and adrenaline that came with the job—no, you loved it. No one ever told you how fun being a superhero can be (aside from the decades of trauma you had to go through) and being able to propel yourself into the air with webs as the people below you gawked at your presence. 
The New York breeze hit your figure like a welcomed embrace, the moon winked at you behind fading beds of clouds. You continue slingshotting yourself down the streets, deja-vu splashed in your face with how eerily similar the roads were to the ones back home; shaking your head, you let out a soft sigh and relish in the cold night’s wind. 
Today’s mission: an unknown entity that plagued Earth 1610, the only information you were given via a loosely thrown together email from Miguel was that the entity could possess powers greater than we all understood—but with a limited amount of time, you would (hopefully) capture it just in time before it discovered its full potential. 
You’d think with how smart the boss-man was, he wouldn’t send a sleep-deprived Spider into such missions with how severe things could turn if everything went wrong.
“I’ll send him an email to complain later, for sure.” You promised yourself; because you were supposed to do just that days ago when tasks started rolling in for you without breaks.
Solo-tasks, might you add.
A cherry on top of the already spoiled cake, salt on the wound, a slap to the face. You grunted, and an alarm sounding from nearby caught you by surprise amidst the (somewhat) quiet of the city. In the snap of a finger, you flung yourself in a different direction, changing the tides in the waves while the wind that hit your face came to a halt once you landed on a roof belonging to a rather tall building. 
The viewing angle from above gave you a clear look into what had transpired underneath.
You squint, arms folded neatly in between your thighs as you crouched over the ledge of the building; from what you could see, nothing was amiss—everything looked to be in place. Letting out an annoyed scoff, you were about to turn on your tail before the ear-piercing sound of glass shattering into pieces hit your eardrums. 
You immediately snapped around, and panic ensued when the people on the streets started screaming, running amok like wild animals scattering away into their safe spaces. You, on the other hand, now have to clean up the mess—you had no clue where this universe’s Spiderman was, nor did anyone brief you on it.
Nonetheless you approached the bust-up shop with a wavy heart, praying to something out there that there weren’t any critically injured persons. As you stalked near the front of the shop, you could hear loud banters inside; curious, you stare into the messy excuse for an interior: broken decors, smashed up shelvings, and items sprawled out across the floor inside.
You took the opportunity and shot yourself up to the ceiling, both your soles and fingertips clutching onto the surface, cautiously crawling further into the shop. 
“Please—” a voice yelled out, “Just let me steal your ATM machine!”
Your lips part, dumbfounded.
“No! Ey! Get away from—” You finally managed to grasp the scene that played out in front of you.
The store manager was running around with a bat in his hands, and the other person that seemed to be wearing a costume with black spots, a jean jacket slung over his shoulders and a rather cute bucket hat. To your surprise, the man evaded the attack when a black hole had been summoned under the manager’s feet, causing him to fall into the portal and out of another one…
…Right above you.
You yelped at the sudden contact on your back, the manager’s weight had you both falling face first into the shards-filled floor; his body cushioned by yours.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” 
The man behind you rolled off, allowing you to take a step and collect yourself as you slowly stood up. Debris started filling up your senses, and the pain from having been cut by thousands of glass shards made you wince in response. You pushed it all down, needing to finish the job as soon as possible so you could flee from more missions when you go back to the headquarters.
You even considered retiring from your spot in the team.
Speaking of spots…
You peered up, eyes catching onto the odd appearance of the man in front of you, who was still attempting to find a way to escape with the ATM. If you hadn’t been as irritated and grumpy as you were, you’d have found the situation hilarious.
“You gotta let that go, big man.” He whipped his head around, eyes darting around before locking in on you. “I’m sorry, I can’t—wait, you look different from my Spiderman.” His head tilted in confusion; you only rolled your eyes in retort, not wanting to drag your already long day out. Webs shot out of your wrists, launching them toward the direction of his foot.
Watching in disbelief as another hole appeared right where his foot would’ve been, the webs flinging into the black void and you felt the substance land on your back, knocking your balance forward.
“What the,” confused, you feel around for it, your fingers finding the source, tracing the substance behind you. “How did you fucking do that?” You glared him down, seeing his stature falter and hands thrown up into the air in defense. 
“Whoa whoa, language!” He wagged a finger at you, giving you his head shake of disapproval. 
“Shut up.”
“That’s just plain rude, young lady—hold on, you’re a lady right?” Your eye twitched in annoyance. 
“Has anyone ever said you’re way too chatty?” 
He was fidgeting with his hands, looking away and feeling nervous, unsure of how to respond to your jab. Before he could get another word out, the bottom of your feet connected with his chest, sending his body back against the wall with a loud ‘thud’ watching as he fell on his backside.
“Oof.”
 He let out a soft grunt, rubbing the sore spot on his butt; right before you did a chain-attack, he caught your foot with another one of his black holes, your foot now appearing on the other side of the store and out of sight.
“That wasn’t very nice. Listen, I just need some money, let me go and—” He threw the ATM onto a pile of cans and started rolling it out of your way, pushing the huge machine as fast as he could. Pulling back your foot in time, your calf connected with his face, making him trip over the cans comically with his arms flailing in the air.
You quickly reached down to fetch your trap to secure your win.
That would be too easy, though. 
Side-stepping a portal of void that almost ate you up, you winced at the pain that shot through your ribs due to your rapid movements. Biting through the pain, you maneuvered to where his body laid and tackled him to the ground once more when he tried to stand up; from then on, it was a cat fight. With you trying to get him detained and him attempting to pry you off of him.
Suddenly, another hole manifested beneath the two of you, watching in horror as you both fell through and landed harshly on top of the rooftop you originally occupied prior; the back of your head collided into the concrete ground; a poor excuse for a cushion.
It fucking hurt.
You were pretty sure you smelled blood.
He tried to get up, but you tumbled the two of you near the ledge of the building; in the midst of all the actions, he found dominance over you when he had your upper body hanging off the ledge with his grip on the collar of your suit. Blood thumped through your eardrums along with the loud horns of traffic, your heart racing in a million miles, if anyone looked up, they'd think you were insane for getting yourself in the situation. 
Maybe you are. 
Call for backup.
It would be so easy; the gizmo hugged your wrist, just one push of a button and someone will be here—
Too late, his grip on you wavered and you plummet into the air.
Fuck.
You quickly attempt to shoot more webs to find purchase on something, anything. 
But terror washed over you the second you realized you had conveniently run out of webbing fuel—being the dumbass you were, you had completely forgotten to get it refilled before the mission at the station back in headquarters.
Closing your eyes, you braced yourself for the impact; your body going limp to soften the blow.
You let out a loud yelp when something flew out of the air beside you and clashed against your body, but you don’t feel the shock at the contact—instead, the warmth of a large arm wrapped around your midsection and you feel the cold wind whiplash you.
Opening your eyes, you were (pleasantly) surprised to find that Miguel caught you just in-time, right before you could suffer any more blunt injuries. You almost cried at the sight of him, his name teased the tip of your tongue, wanting to wrap your arms around him for a hug; you pulled yourself back just in time before you could react on your impulse.
You were still mad at Miguel, you have to act like it.
Before you know it, he came to a halt around a corner into an alleyway and swung down to place you down gently on the ground, your feet now free from the feeling of being dangled in the air. His eyes flickered over your face, then down your body; his arm still pressed into your waist as he squeezed your flesh out of instinct. 
Bad move, the squeeze, no matter how gentle, pressed into your bruised rib. The pain sending a wave of shocks throughout your torso, you immediately pushed him away with a small hiss. You couldn’t see it, but hurt flashed through his eyes when you forced yourself out of his grip, his arm falling back to his side; unknowing of its purpose.
He wouldn’t willingly admit it, but the rare moments he would get to feel the heat of your body against him sent him to heaven: like that one time your shoulder pressed into his at the cafeteria, the times your naked fingers would brush over his skin, when your back used to press up on his during missions back in the days he went with you. Sinfully, he would recall that specific time your chest pushed into his torso during a stealth mission, the temptation to take you right there and then a devilish thought that circled his mind.
(Don’t ask what he had done in the shower after the mission debrief.)
That was part of the reason he had stopped frequenting jobs with you, even when you came into his office and invited him; you were met with rejections after rejections, soon enough, he noticed that you stopped trying—and the painful gnaw at his chest reminded him of your growing distant attitude with him, too. Miguel refused to let his personal life interfere with his business, and the last person he would want to hurt was you. 
Unknowingly, he had done exactly that whenever he would gradually push your presence away.
Having meals weren’t the same anymore, not when you stopped showing up to his office everyday with his favorite food like a routine, he’d eat less and less as the days passed by; without you there to continuously pester him, he found himself reverting back to his old habits—working after late hours, not sleeping enough, not eating enough, barely talking to anyone unless absolutely necessary. 
He had came to the realization that somehow, long ago, your presence had become such a grounding part of his life; the gentle yet persistent reminder that he deserved love and care too, to stop hogging all the responsibilities alone and share his burden with someone who he can trust, and it all manifested into you.
Miguel recognized he royally fucked up when you both barely see each other face-to-face anymore, you stopped showing up to debriefings, the only time he’d get to remotely speak to you was when he sent you off to missions.
He knew he was harsh, yes, but he fully believed in your capability to handle yourself—but while he was relentless, he still cared. 
Hence why he arrived and interjected your mission, wanting to extend a helping hand.
“Fuck—what are you doing here?!” You shouted over the loud traffic, emotions taking control of your mind, before Miguel could protest, screams broke out from beside you both. “Shit, let’s get this over with, big man.” 
You paused, momentarily forgotten that your webbings ran out of fuel and mentally slapped yourself in the face.
As if he read your mind, he fished out a tube from behind him and threw it your way. You caught it just in time and practically rushed to throw the lid off, tipping the mouth over to allow the liquid flow into the web gadget integrated into your suit. You threw a mumbled “thanks” his way and chucked the tube out of sight.
“Come on,” you nod toward the opening of the alleyway with an arm raised and pull yourself upward with your web. 
It was supposed to be an easy job: brawl with the anomaly, win the brawl, capture it.
But this one was starting to grate your nerves—and you were sure Miguel felt the same too, you could sense the rage radiating off of his huge stature like sirens; chasing down the guy who had re-introduced himself as the Spot when you caught up with him earlier, unintentionally finding himself falling in and out of accidental portals he materialized. 
“Stop running!” Yelling, you proceeded to jump into the portal he went through, he was always barely a hair away; yet as clumsy as he was, managed to get away every single time.  
“Stop chasing me!” Spot shouted back, tripping over the back of his foot and almost falling into one of the portals entirely. 
He managed to barely swerve out of the way when Miguel lunged at him from behind, his claws swooping in the air where Spot used to be. It became a constant back-and-forth; you would shoot yourself closer to him and Miguel would come from his back, essentially cornering him, then Spot would narrowly escape; rinse and repeat. Exhaustion crept up on you eventually, nagging the back of your mind as you tapped into your adrenaline to stay awake and alerted of your surroundings. 
Miguel noticed it, too, and he went even harder—the intensity of his ferocity grew when he realized he had to end things soon before someone gets injured; he prayed to God it wouldn’t be you. 
Somehow, more portals had opened up, and all you could do was avoid falling into them; the possibility of coming face first into the asphalt roads were too high for you to take the chance. Miguel almost got caught in one; hardly dodging a portal that conjured on the wall he stuck to. But unlike you, he was willing to test out his theory, reeling his body back to prepare launching himself into the portal. And he did just that—his reward? A high-five of his face with another set of walls. 
He grunted, out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted you latching onto Spot’s back; desperately trying to push him down onto a solid surface. You both spun into another portal and crashed on a different rooftop, Miguel rushed over with claws ravaging the innocent bricks he crawled on; when he went up, he saw the two of you gasping for air on the ground. 
You clutched the side of your rib, an indescribable amount of pain overtook your senses; you were pretty sure your ankle was broken when it was caught on a pole. Spot got up earlier than you, and was about to speed off before he felt a large hand tugging at the back of his shirt. 
It all happened so fast: reeling in a punch, the adrenaline pumping in Miguel’s veins, Spot’s utter shock at the face of Death himself, the supposed impact of the fist with the other’s face…
…Only for the force to be directed to you in the heat of the moment when a portal happened to manifest where Spot’s face would’ve been.
It was an accident, really, an unintentional line of actions from Spot— he was way too out of it when he figured he was about to go through his final moment; his portals shot out in panic, lucky for him, it was the reason he evaded Miguel’s death fist.
Unlucky for you, the other end of the portal had been right in front of you the whole time; yet in the midst of you processing your surroundings, you hadn’t realized quicker that your senses were screaming for you to dodge out of the way.
The conclusion? You, having just been punched in your guts, falling down a building amongst the New York you shouldn’t have stepped a foot in if you knew the outcome at all. The gust of wind pumped in your ears as you fell, and fell.
No worries—you’ve got your handy-dandy webs, right? 
Oh how you wished you hadn’t been wrong.
Miguel had snatched a random refill off of his own shelf when he was about to depart, not bothering to check for its content after his recent use; just shy of a quarter, barely enough to last an average Spider’s fill an hour of webbing. In his defense, he had been distraught when Lyla popped in earlier to warn him of your vitals: most specifically your injuries. He would’ve never sent you out in the first place if he knew you suffered from broken ribs.
But all you knew was that you somehow fucked yourself over.
Panic ensued.
And now, you suffered the consequences of his actions.
“Miguel!” A call for help; he was your last hope.
The fall wasn’t a particularly long one, and you normally would breeze through the impact and pain like a champ—except you have never fell from a building with ribs that squeezed your organs tight, ankle that would most likely not support your landing even if you tried, the adrenaline you lived off of now benched on the side leaving you stranded for some form of strength to pull yourself together in the span of a few seconds.
Your shoulder hit the ground first, then your head; the harsh impact created a string of reactions to your already abused body: pain shooting up your nerves, the corners of your eyes dimming despite the bright lights flashing around you.
Unbeknownst to the three of you, policemen started showing up once someone reported a supposed break-in at the shop you investigated; the sound of blaring sirens filled your eardrums like honey whilst the flashing of red and blue assaulted your blurry sight. 
Barely able to distinguish what was happening in front, you attempted to prop yourself up on your elbow; but the more you tried, the more lights started diminishing in your vision. Breathing has never felt so difficult, either.
Miguel was a step too late when he came to you; after having realized what had occurred, he dropped Spot in an instant like a hot potato, prioritizing saving you instead of proceeding with the mission’s objective. He was aware of the policemen being present at the scene when they started noticing your slumped body in the middle of the road, crowding together to watch as you struggled to lift yourself up—they all stood and observed, no one reached out to help, none.
He was by your side right away, his one hand supporting the weight of your head while the other clutching at the hem of your mask, lifting it over your eyes.
His hand felt…wet.
As if things couldn’t possibly get worse: he watched the stiff expression on your face contorted with pain, you seemed to have recognized him as you slowly reached a weak arm out to caress his face, your thumb gently glossing over his cheekbone, your touches light like feathers. His mask concealed the despair in his features, the hues of red and blues still shone on his back as everyone else stayed aside and spectated. 
Your hand soon dropped to your side, unmoving, your head now heavier than ever in his hand.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. 
Miguel held your small, delicate hand into his, the tears teasing the corner of his eye as he watched your life slipped by those eyes of yours he’d grown to adore.
-
“You can’t live like this, Miguel.” 
Lyla crossed her arms over her chest, trailing Miguel’s tiny movements on the desk. His fingers delicately move across the keys on the keyboard, imputing password after password for locked files. 
“Seriously,” Lyla sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re starting to worry me.” 
“Nothing to worry about, Lyla, get me the decoded files from yesterday.” Miguel ignored her pestering, choosing to focus on his work and his work only.
That was his routine for the past 5 days or so.
After the entire slip-up in Earth 1610, Miguel had been busting his ass to hunt down the anomaly for every hour he was awake; granted, he did take care of other responsibilities too—babysitting Mayday on Monday, depatching teams to bring back more anomalies, and visiting you every day. 
And also dealing with that kid he found out to be the Spider-man from Earth-1610.
He hadn’t missed a single day of visiting you, who still laid in the hospital bed at the infirmary he cleared out for you. 
Everyday. On the clock. 5 am when he woke up, when lunchtime struck, and in the late hours of night when he should be spending on getting enough rest.
Lyla had been there through it all, watching Miguel’s tormented back every single minute he was awake as he continuously starved himself off of the bare minimums. 
Food, water, sleep, you name it all. 
And as his assistant, his well-being was her number one priority—hence the constant pestering that would be swatted away, food that went cold despite Peter having brought them in hours ago upon Lyla’s request and his growing concern for his friend in the chair. Jess’s occasional visits to check up on Miguel, wondering if the day she stepped in would be the day she would see his lifeless body on the desk with how much neglect he reflected on himself. Even the new recruits dropped in to say hello, just to see that he was doing…okay in his book: which was not okay in everyone else’s.
Everyone was worried. 
About you, of course, and him too.
The situation had clearly taken a heavy toll on him.
But Lyla understood more than anyone else that it wasn’t because of his work, his dwelling traumatic past, or how he barely had any rest for the past 120 hours. 
No one else knew of his infatuation with you except for her—and that was only because she snooped through his things, finding the little knit-knacks he kept from all those times you came and dropped it off: the tiny Miguel plushie you made when you impulsively decided to take up knitting that one time, the shirt of yours you had forgotten to take back when you visited his office at late hours, soaked from the rain outside and sneezing everywhere. 
“Hey Mig—“ sneeze. “I came to see y—“ sneeze. “I—“ and you sneezed. 
“For the love of God,” Miguel turned around, seeing your soaked clothes that cling to your body, and having to turn away for just a tiny moment to compost himself when he caught sight of your curves. 
Groaning, he pulled out one of his drawers and shuffled through and fished out a new shirt—undoubtedly his with how large it was. 
His shirt was a sight on you, fitting perfectly yet still draping over your thighs just slightly when you went to get changed. 
The image of you that night burned into his head, forever engraved in his brain. 
Then there was the polaroid picture of the two of you when you had forced Miguel to “take a selfie with me!” when you picked up a weirdly shaped camera from a thrift store in your universe (something something you saying to be smart and conserve money). “It’s called InstaX, it—here, let me show you” and snapped a picture. 
In the picture, his expression was one of annoyance, and you were squeezed against his shoulder with a toothy grin on your face. 
Lyla saw how Miguel would come back with tiny frames that he thought would frame the film perfectly, but ultimately was defeated when he decided to just stick it in-between the pages of his files labeled: Classified.
She was the only one ever to know the content inside: mostly pictures of Gabriella’s (poor) baking, first day at school, when Gabriella won her first competitive soccer match; and then there was you.
She knew how important you were to him; yet to her complete and utter confusion, Miguel always kept to himself about his little (big) crush—even though she could clearly tell you were just as interested as he was, too. 
He was the densest man you had the pleasure of knowing. 
He never made a move; and now, he might never get another chance to.
Now you were reduced to a sitting duck, once a shell of what you were; your body laid in the bed he frequented more than his own, the lively demeanor that you carried with you before turned into a tune of stable heartbeats beeping from the machinery installed next to you: the only indicator you were still alive. 
Guilt was the only thing he knew for a while; when he’d step into the shower as the cold water bit the skin of his back, like he was willingly punishing himself for allowing that incident to happen. 
Everywhere he went, whatever he did, he was only reminded of your face.
“If only I had been there sooner.”  
He’d say to himself while he peered down at your figure, not there but, there. You were barely hanging, and part of him knew that it was your determination to fight through whatever battle was going on inside your head during the coma. 
“Por favor,” his hand held yours, careful to avoid the IV’s that pricked your skin, forehead sticky with sweat after having just come back from a specifically tough mission that day.
“Concédeme este deseo.” 
He would whisper sweet-nothings to you, praying to himself at night by your bedside that you’d wake up one of these days with that smile he yearned for. And for someone to finally share the extra empanadas he would always bring in, to hope that one day, you’d get to share this joy with him. 
The joy of eating together again.
So imagine his surprise when he walked into your room tonight, and found you sat up with the metal frame supporting your back. 
You were awake.
And most importantly, you were alive. 
He had never sprinted so fast in his life; the warm pack of empanadas he brought from the cafeteria drop to the floor, the gentle ‘thud’ catching your zoned out self by complete surprise, your face softened once your gaze landed on Miguel; who was frantically patting your face and checking your vitals to confirm that yes, you are here. 
Your hand reached up to palm his that lingered on your cheek, his eyes finally settled on you, slowly taking in the fact that you were now right there in front of him. 
“Miguel,” a small knowing smile tugged at your lips, your eyes the most gentle he’d ever seen. “It’s okay, I’m right here.”
He was still so afraid, so afraid that you would just slip by his fingers again; so he held onto you for dear life, fingers gripping your one cheek and hand with the others. 
“Estoy tan contenta de que estés aquí,” You whispered. 
A soft quiver of his lips; barely there—that was when the dam broke, and his tears started flowing down his sullen cheeks. 
You panicked, wondering if you had butchered your Spanish so bad you shamed him to tears.
“I’m…I’m sorry?” You tilt your head in confusion and worry. Miguel only shook his head, a small chuckle emitted from him; as if he knew what you had been thinking. 
“Don’t be sorry, silly.” He looked up at you with those earnest eyes of his; ones that melt your heart and warm your soul. You’d taken a liking to him early on; though you weren’t sure when it started, only where it started: during a mission, when the two of you grew physically close, so close.
His breaths fanning down your face, your breathing grew heavy with each and every second; that was when you knew you were in too deep. 
You would know it’d take heaven and hell to pull you apart from this man. 
There he kneeled, lips on the back of your hand as his thumb gently caressed your cheekbone, enjoying the way hues of red spread out on your cheeks. 
There was no way of escaping it now: the pent up tension of a confession teasing the air around you both, and soon, one of you was bound to crack.
“I have something to tell you—“
“I have something to say—“
Only that you both did it at once, together.
Miguel stared at you, lips slightly parted with the ghost of his words and eyes widened, then he cracked into a fit of roaring laughter—and you joined in.
Laughter filled what was once a room only occupied by the sound of your heartbeats on the machine, the two of you clutched each other’s hand, the high soon dying down to mere giggles; as if you two were high-school sweethearts with muffled chuckles thrown at each other in the back of the class. 
You two were in your own little world, a bubble that secured around your bodies, forever molding the shape of what once was and what will be. 
Wiping away the happy tear in your eye, you stared at Miguel’s devilishly handsome face, and the gorgeous smile you oh-so-rarely get the privilege of seeing. The muted rhythm of his chest rising and falling, in sync to yours, like two lovers on the dance floor—not even the sky could stop your love for each other. 
“I love you.” 
You blurted out; sure, you were 98% certain Miguel reciprocated your feelings, but that small node of anxiety still tugged at the back of your mind, terrified that you misunderstood his gestures all these times.
But wouldn’t the words he whispered to you during your sleep be all washed away if that was true? 
It was a risk, and you took it; it was now or never. 
“I—“ Miguel stammered, his heart screaming at him to just lean in and—
—kiss you.
His lips were nothing like you’d ever imagine; it was all the best parts multiplied by infinity: soft, full of all the love he had to give, and passionate. 
The kiss lasted for what felt like eternity—part of you wished it did, and you’d be content to die like this, your lips forever engraved on his. 
Miguel swore he heard the choir sung to him, albeit with crooked notes; but maybe because he did.
He slowly turned around, and you, who also does the same.
His colleagues had been quietly watching all this time from behind the doors: Peter with Mayday in tow as she cooed at the sight, Jess and that motherly smile of hers—Miles, Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr all stood with heads peeking through the gap of the doors. Even Lyla was there, although she simply floated over Peter's shoulder, joining in on the choir; their mouths agape with barely harmonized tunes of a holy song slipping out of their mouths. Amateur at best, unbearable at worst. 
Pavitr carried with the vocals, as always. 
They only stopped once they realized they had been caught; thinking that you two were in too deep to notice that there were more guests coming. 
“What…are you guys doing here?” Miguel asked, his tone more of a threat than a genuine question.
“We got some food—“ Peter perked up, but was instantly cut off by Hobie.
“‘o watch some sappy romance, ‘ey boss man?” Hobie high-fived Lyla's glitchy hologram, the latter wearing a smirk too wide for her face and nodding aggressively.
“Do the shoulder trick!” Miles yelled out; Gwen looked at him in horror then back to Miguel, this time, it was her who was shaking her head aggressively while crossing her arms into a giant X shape. 
Miguel snarled at Miles, not appreciating the cheesy suggestion of a pick-up line while everything went so well for him before they all busted in. 
“Remember to host a Sangeet bro! Oh Gayatri is super good at doing Henna—“  
“Hey I wanna be the flower girl!” Gwen piped up. 
“No, Miguel told me long ago Mayday would be—“
“She’s not even old enough, Peter, can she even throw a fistful of flowers?” Gwen crossed her arms in protest.
“I’ll have you know she’s an extremely capable baby, right, Mayday?” Peter looked down, only to see that Mayday had once again been chewing on his pink robe like always, blabbering with spit foaming at her mouth. 
“Oh Christ—“ Jess chuckled at the absurdity of the sight, a hand on her hip and the other tracing soothing circles on her belly; just as Miguel had been doing it with your hand the entire time.
Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh knowing that the special moment between the two of you had been ruined by a bunch of nosy gremlins. 
Your hand went up to remove his hand from his face, and even with how (incredibly) noisy the room became with banters and bickering thrown around; it was all quiet with him, only the stable heartbeats of you both reached your ears.
For once, your life was complete.
Miguel glanced into your eyes, the adoration swarmed your orbs; behind them, he could see far into the future where you both exist, always beside each other like glue to a paper—with you on his hips and his on yours.
And at last, Miguel had found what he had been missing from his life. 
------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's note: Thank you so much for this suggestion Anon, it's my first one ever and I hope i did not disappoint u.u, I LOVED writing this and it got me tearing up reminiscing some fictional (sexy) mexican man. Hope u enjoyed!
ps: pls excuse the spanish i only have spanishdict as my holy grail (pls also DO correct me if needed!)
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ickadori · 24 days
Text
++ 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍 — 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘
↳ You’re Yuuta’s beloved girlfriend, and Maki’s closest friend, but she’s no longer content in being just a friend to you…no, she wants to be something far more significant. VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST
[cws] fem reader -> yuuta’s gf. mention of maki masturbating next to you as you sleep. use of alcohol & marijuana -> dubcon oral (reader & maki are high). infidelity.
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Maki wonders if things would have turned out differently had she been the one to meet you first.
Would she have been in Yuuta’s current position? With you sitting on her lap instead of his, your hands cupping her cheeks instead of his, her hands gripping onto your exposed thighs instead of his, her lips moving against your own instead of his?
She takes a slow sip of the drink in her cup, eyes still glued to the two of you over the rim. You part from the kiss to giggle into his neck, and Yuuta smiles, cheeks flushed a shade of pink as he whispers something to you, your hand playfully smacking his shoulder a second later.
It makes the cheap beer in her stomach curdle.
Maki likes Yuuta, she does, but she likes you just a bit more.
You’re cute, sweet, funny, kind, and you make butterflies swarm in her stomach whenever you come around - and you come around a lot, you two are friends after all, even if Maki wants to be so much more.
She thinks she does a decent job at keeping her feelings under wraps. When you show up at her dorm room door, she doesn’t smile and beam how she wants to. When you take her hand in yours to tug her in another direction, she doesn’t raise them to her mouth to kiss the back of your hand. When you borrow one of her shirts during an impromptu sleepover, she won’t ogle at your legs and try to get a peek at whatever panties you’re wearing. When you lay beside her, sleeping soundly, she won’t press herself up against you and pretend that you’re a couple…but she will let her hand venture into her underwear and pretend it’s yours.
Yuuta suddenly stands up, placing you on the empty couch cushion beside him, and Maki looks over to see Inumaki waving him over to where a game of beer pong had been set up. You had never been much for drinking games, hence why you stayed seated on the couch. Maki takes another sip of her drink.
It tastes like shit and she’d rather have a water, but the buzz that she’s getting feels a bit nice. It makes her warm from the inside, kinda like how you do, and she’s found herself chasing that feeling recently.
A body suddenly stops in front of her, and she drags her eyes up shapely legs and hips, over a pair of breasts that’re accentuated with a skin tight shirt, before finally landing on your face. You smile, teeth flashing as you set a hand on your hip, and she can’t help but return it, spreading her legs just a bit.
“Hey,” she greets.
“Hey,” you copy, and then you’re motioning to her lap. “Make some room, I wanna sit.”
“There is no room.” She gestures to the single seater she’s lounged in, and your lips purse before you’re moving in. “I’m not giving you my…” Her words die out as you situate yourself in her lap, legs swung over the arm of the chair as your arm winds around the back of her neck, and you grin triumphantly as you look down at her.
“Perfect.” She huffs before lifting her cup back to her lips, a grin of her own hidden behind the rim. She lets one arm naturally loop around your hip, hand resting on the top of your thigh, and you tap the side of her cup. “What’s that?”
“Beer - it’s nasty, you won’t like it.” You weren’t much of a drinker, always gagging as soon as the taste of alcohol hit your tongue, but she always found you taking small sips from others cups and immediately cringing afterwards.
“I might.” You say, and Maki shakes her head before lifting the cup to your mouth.
“Don’t blame me if you throw up.” Your lips close around the rim, and she lets her gaze drift down to where your cleavage is bursting free from your shirt, breasts pushed up and practically calling out to her. The fact that she’s seen them multiple times, thanks to your knack for changing right in front of her, does nothing to calm the heat simmering in her belly.
She can vividly recall the darkness of your areolas, the puffiness of your nipples, how they had hardened up when the chill of the room hit them, and a throbbing starts between her legs as her tongue swipes out to wet her lips.
“Eugh,” you make a face as you swallow, and Maki lets out a breathy chuckle as she brings her cup back closer to her. “I don’t know how you drink that, it’s so nasty.”
“Told you.” She takes another sip, dark lashes fluttering when she feels the wetness of your spit along the rim, and she greedily gulps the rest of the liquid down.
“This party is so boring,” you sigh, your gaze moving to where Yuuta is chugging down a drink, and Maki feels a tick of annoyance. You’re only bored because Yuuta isn’t tonguing you down anymore, but she’s here, isn’t she? Is she boring?
Maki frowns.
“Let’s ditch it.”
“Hm?” Your gaze falls back to her, and Maki never wants you to look at anyone else ever again. “And do what?”
“One of those Kyoto kids gave me a baggie earlier - we could try that out.” Your eyes sparkle at the suggestion, always eager whenever the mention of weed comes up, and then you’re snagging hold of her hand and sliding out of her lap.
“C’mon, let’s go before Yuuta sees. I really don’t feel like hearing his lectures right now.”
Sneaking out was easy enough, and you laugh into Maki’s arm as the two of you near her dorm, beyond giddy at the prospect of getting high. You don’t smoke a lot, Maki even less, so you’re always a bit excited like this when you get the chance.
“Yuuta still doesn’t smoke?” She closes the door behind her, toeing her shoes off as she clicks the lock into place and draws the blinds.
“Nope, only drinks. You know he’s got real bad asthma.” You plop yourself down on her bed before falling back on it, and Maki can’t help the image that flashes through her mind, one where she’s crawling on top of you, hands groping at your tits and knee pushing up between your thighs to rub against your cunt.
“Ah, that’s right.” She pulls the plastic baggy free from her jacket pocket and holds it up, showcasing the two rather fat joints packaged inside. You squeal, cutely kicking your feet in the air, and Maki laughs before joining you on the bed after snagging a lighter from her desk.
She lights it and takes the first hit for herself, holding the smoke in for a bit before pushing it out through an exhale. You impatiently whine beside her, and Maki passes it over, watching as you wrap your lips around the joint and inhale, your cheeks hollowing out as you do. You hold it for a bit before blowing it out through a grin.
“Whoever sold you this is a saint.”
“It was Mai.”
“Ugh, that bitch…no offense.” You take another hit before passing it over. “I know she’s your sister and all, but she’s a real asshole. I hate how she treats you.”
“Eh, it’s just a bunch of family drama. She doesn’t mean it, not really.” You turn on your side to face her, and she rests her free hand on her stomach. “She’s actually pretty nice if she likes you.”
“Yeah, fat chance.” You make an annoyed face, and Maki snorts out a laugh, you quickly joining her afterwards. “It’s not funny, Maki! She’s mean to you.”
“Yeah, but she did give us some decent weed so she can’t be that bad, right?”
“I guess so…” You trail off, still annoyed, and Maki bites on her bottom lip before she’s sitting up and motioning for you to do the same. “What?”
“I wanna try something.” You sit in front of her with your legs crossed, and she copies the pose as she leans forward just a bit. “Shotgunning. You’ve seen it, right?”
“Oh! Yeah, I’ve seen a bunch of videos—let me do it!” You snag the joint from her and put it between your lips, and Maki watches with low lids, the whites of her eyes tinged the tiniest bit red, as you lean in, cheeks puffed up with smoke.
She closes the distance and opens her mouth, fully aware that her lips are mere centimeters away from yours. Her eyes lock with yours as you transfer the smoke to her, a pink flush settling in her cheeks. You lean back and she blows it out through her nose, a smile making its way to your face as your own lids begin to lower
“I think I did it wrong or something - it looks more fun in the videos.” You pass the joint back to her, and emboldened by the mix of alcohol and weed in her system, Maki takes a long drag before holding it off to the side. Her hand comes up to softly grip your jaw, a soft gasp leaving you in return, and then she’s invading your space, lips pushing against yours as she blows the smoke into your mouth.
Your eyes widen, hands moving to her shoulders to push her back, but she’s already moving, tingling lips wrapping back around the joint to hide a grin.
“Maki!”
“Hm? What? That’s how they did it in the videos.” You scowl at her, and she blows some smoke off to the side. “Oh, come on, I just wanted to try it out the right way. It was fun, wasn’t it?”
“You can’t kiss me, Maki.” You sigh, hand moving to rub at your eye, and her eyes take you in for the umpteenth time tonight, catching on the way your nipples poke out through your shirt. “I know it’s not like that, but Yuuta still doesn’t like it.”
Tch.
“Did he say that?”
“More or less.” You give her an apologetic look. “He says it makes him feel insecure—stop laughing, Maki! It isn’t funny!” You chide despite a laugh slipping free from yourself.
“Me of all people making Yuuta feel insecure? That’s hogwash.” You snort at the word, and the sound sends the both of you into a fit of laughter so strong that you both end up leaning against each other for support.
“You’re, like, really intimidating, Maki, not to mention hot. If we weren’t friends, he’d probably think you were gonna steal me away.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Her heart races at the thought.
The both of you finish off the joint, and the second one is soon to follow, leaving you both effectively high out of your minds. Maki feels light, too light, and she finds herself clutching onto your hand to keep from floating away.
“This feels nice.” You mumble, and she hums in agreement, eyes slowly blinking up at the ceiling before she’s turning to face you, finding that you’re already doing the same. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
The both of you stare at each other in silence, Maki’s thumb rubbing against the skin of your hand, and your tongue swipes out to wet your lips. She leans forward again, her lips pushing against yours, and she goes still as she waits for you to push her away, but you never do.
She kisses you harder, tongue running along the seam of your lips until you open up for her. A moan, soft and low, leaves you, and Maki groans, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head as she licks into your mouth.
The kiss is sloppy, frenzied, her hand moving from your hip to your waist to up under your shirt and squeezing at your breast. You’re hot in her palm, and she roughly tugs your bra down and goes back to kneading, fingers tugging and rolling your hard nipple around.
“Maki,” your lips part with a smack, your fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt, and she moves her kisses down to your neck, sucking and biting at the skin as a sick pleasure forms at the soon to be marks. She wonders how Yuuta’ll react, but she doesn’t give it too much thought when her thigh slips between yours and you grind your pussy up against the tensed muscle. “Maki!”
You’re considerably higher than her, and Maki knows she should probably stop this —you’re not thinking clearly— but she finds herself shimmying your pants down your legs anyways.
Just a peek. She just wants to see the way your panties cling to your pussy, the wet fabric outlines your lips — so pretty. She tugs the material up and taut between your lips, mouth filling with saliva when she can make out the bump of your clit. You smell amazing, your scent thick and heady in her nose, and she breathes in deep, thumb rubbing circles over your clit as her own pulsates.
Just a taste. Just a quick one, just so she’ll know how sweet you are, what she’s been missing out on. She wants to know if swallowing down your cum will quench that thirst that’s been nagging at the back of her throat from the moment she first met you. Your panties are tugged to the side, webs of slick stretching from your cunt to the fabric -do you get this wet for Yuuta, she wonders-, and then she’s planting a kiss to where your clit lays.
You keen, thighs spreading wider and hips jerking up, and that’s all the encouragement Maki needs to start eating you out as if her life depended on it. Her tongue parts your folds to swipe at your clit and push into your tight hole, fucking into it the same way she wishes to fuck her strap that’s hidden away under her bed into you.
Her lips move against your pussy as if she’s kissing you - giving you wet, messy kiss as she sucks on your lips and slurps at your clit. The sounds are loud and raunchy, and it has her fruitlessly humping her cunt against the bed.
“Coming…Maki, I—Maki!” You come with little warning, pussy gushing into her mouth as she greedily swallows it down, fingers sinking into the plush of your thighs as she keeps you pressed against her face, nose nuzzled against your clit and mouth suctioned over your twitching hole as she sucks and sucks and sucks.
After a bit your hands are weakly pushing at her head, and Maki reluctantly pulls away, tongue licking at her lips as she travels back up your body. You’re panting, chest quickly rising and falling with your breaths, and she smacks her lips against yours, hands keeping your face steady as she kisses you.
Her eyes move to where she had kissed and sucked at the skin of your neck, wondering if a bruise will pop up on your skin in the morning, a little gift to send back to Yuuta. Or maybe when he gets a look at your pussy, swollen and sticky from Maki’s treatment, he’ll instantly know that she had been between his girlfriend’s thigh.
She wonders if he can handle being the jealous one, now.
223 notes · View notes
sleepybbie · 8 months
Text
KOI NO YOKAN | nagi x reader
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summary: koi no yokan - the sudden knowledge upon meeting someone that the two of you are destined to fall in love. nagi still remembers the day he met you and the day he fell in love with you.
nagi seishiro x fem!reader
notes: from nagi’s pov! h/c - hair color, h/l - hair length, e/c - eye color, f/n - friend’s name <33
a/n: aaahh i love this man sm ! ૮꒰ྀི⊃´ ꒳ `⊂ྀི꒱ა
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nagi still remembers the day he first saw you.
it was during one of his football practices at school. his good friend, reo and his other teammates were practicing as usual on the field, the soccer ball being kicked around—same old, same old. it was a hassle to have practices after school when he could just be at home at the moment, play video games all day and have the most relaxing naps alone at his home.
well now that his life had changed after he met the ambitious mikage son, nagi knew he couldn’t go back to that boring lifestyle he used to have anymore.
“nagi over here, over here…!” he hears reo yell from the side. today’s practice was a 5 on 5 match at hakuho high’s soccer club. nagi nonchalantly yet swiftly kicked the ball towards reo without any second thought in his head except of going home early after today’s game. when reo caught the ball, the purple haired boy ran towards the goal, confusing the enemy side with his small dribbling tricks to attempt to distract them, and passed it to a nearby teammate.
nagi almost let out a loud grunt when that same teammate that reo passed to, kicked the ball so high it went out of the field in full speed. “it’s out! someone catch it before it hits somebody!” someone beside reo yelled. reo looked over at nagi and shouted, “nagi quick! get it!”
what a pain…
his legs now running with speed, nagi’s eyes glued to the floating ball failed to notice people standing in his direction. including a group of friends who were now running out of the way. the ball was now heading towards someone..he picked up the pace a little.
“y/n watch out!” a call of somebody’s name echoed into his ears before nagi jumped up high and caught the ball within seconds with his feet. thank goodness he got it just in time, or else it would’ve already hit the person in front of him. the moment he stopped the ball, it was if he managed to stop time, too. nagi’s grey orbs scanning down to see a face just right below him.
a girl
her eyes were looking back at him, filled with surprise and amazement. his white bangs flowed along with the rhythm of the cold wind that hit his face, he could see her properly from his vision. h/c h/l hair, her eyes were a hue of e/c pupils. at that same split second, the earth created a collision between two people for their first meeting, much more different than fate walking pass by—like a painter touching a skin of a canvas for the first time in order to create a masterpiece.
the ball stopped, and nagi swiftly landed on the ground, trying to push himself as much as possible to not hit the girl on his way. kicking the ball back up, nagi kicks the ball back into the field and watches as reo takes it and slammed the ball towards the goal, earning another point for their team. 3-0, it was slightly unfair. there were yells from that same area—saying how that pass was even possible. though, mostly everyone knows hakuho high’s crazy soccer duo.
nagi places both of his hands on his hip, letting out a sigh before he faces the person standing behind him. she’s still there, looking scared of what just happened. “uhmm…” he began, “are you alright?”
she winces. odd..he was at least twice the times taller than her figure. although he knows that there were other girls shorter than her in this school, she was just one of them. “oh…! uhh, yes i’m ok. t-thank you for saving me..” she says, giving nagi a short bow. a shy type of student? she seems to stutter easily upon talking. nagi raises a brow, a little perplexed, “it’s not much of a big deal, anyways…i wouldn’t really call that saving..”
the girl blinks her eyes twice and she chuckles, seeming unbothered of what just happened. she had a nice smile, warm and stitched beautiful across her kind expression. he changed his mind, was this girl the calm type? she’s certainly showing no concern of the trouble his teammate made (and he had to stop it for him). thinking about someone’s facial expression is such a bother, why is he even thinking of it?
“i’m honest. if it weren’t for you i would’ve got hit. so, thank you so much,” she says, quite in a soft tone. maybe she was the soft-hearted type..? she looks studious. she’s probably smart, too. at this point, nagi feels like he’s already judging a person based on their looks, but he couldn’t help it.
“eh..like i said, ‘s not much of a big de—
“y/n! ugh, thank goodness you’re ok!” the sentences were cut off soon when the person who was with her (who is probably her friend) ran straight to her side, concerned expressions on her face as her hands clutch onto her shoulders, shaking them.
“i-i’m fine, f/n..! i didn’t get hit i swear..!”
“i know but still…!” her friend looked over to nagi’s direction, and the snowy haired boy knew he was going to get an earful by this random chick who was defending her best friend. maybe if he just sneaked off, then he’ll be safe..? “hey nagi, could you and your team kindly stop kicking the ball so hard?? you guys could’ve hit someone, y’know?!” she began, and nagi immediately discarded his short plan. yeah, he’s used to this by now.
“oi are you listening?!”
‘ugh, so noisy, what a hassle..and how does this girl even know my name? do i know her?’
“ahh..! f/n! i’m sorry, sorry. about my teammate kicking the ball out of the field,” well about time his savior arrived. nagi watches as reo appeared out from behind and nervously raised both of his hands up as a stop gesture to back the girl named f/n up away from the sleepy genius. f/n scoffs, “reo…hey, it would be appreciated if you tell your team to calm down with the ball or else it would’ve hit y/n right here. if it weren’t for this guy then i’d be seeing her at the infirmary room.”
this girl is so loud, nagi thinks. compared to the girl he just saved from the soccer ball. f/n mentioned her name is…y/n? huh..
“i’m really sorry again. i’ll tell that to them. i’m sorry, too, y/n. i hope it didn’t scare you much.”
“like i said, it’s ok…! you don’t need to apologize, reo. i’m fine, see?”
oh, his friend knows y/n, too.
“reo, you know them?” nagi questions. reo looked over at nagi and raises his brow, looking puzzled. f/n had an offended look over her face while y/n just giggled. did he say anything wrong? he’s sure he asked him right.
“nagi…these two are our classmates..”
nagi blinks. “oh…really?”
“the hell do you mean, really?!” f/n shouts at him, obviously pissed. maybe he should stop sleeping in class all the time…or sneak off during recess to play..? yet again, reo is always finding ways to look for him at break hours.
reo sighs as he rolled his eyes. “calm down…he’s always like this. c’mon nagi, let’s go back to practice. we got another match next week.”
“mm..”
“you better keep your word, reo..! let’s go, y/n,” f/n uttered to the purple haired male, reo waves off as a response while nagi still stood there. f/n calmly took y/n’s hand and walked off the opposite direction, dragging her along.
“ah..! bye nagi…! thank you once again..!” y/n waves to him, with a smile. and then the two friends left.
nagi was a little surprised. it was the first time a girl said goodbye like that to him…exception of his other female relatives and his mom. a classmate of his.
nothing else to say, he raises his hand up, waving back. “bye..?” his voice was soft, only he could hear it, as if there was a lump trapped between his throat.
that was strange
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he remembers the first time he had a long chat with you.
it was when reo held a study group for the upcoming exams their school was having. everyone knew how smart the mikage’s son is, so they immediately asked him if he could help them with tutoring. who was he to say no?
however, reo wanted to drag nagi along as well for the group study session. nagi at first, declined; saying it was too much of a bother to even study for an exam (even if it was an upcoming long test) and that he was far too tired to come with them (not to mention a whole group of students he doesn’t know is coming, too). it took the lazy male awhile to just say ‘yes’ to the rich boy after what seemed like an hour of endless pleading for him to tag along. the only reason why nagi decided to, is because reo made a solution of doing the study session at a huge cafe that was nearby an arcade shop.
once the group was ready to stroll, nagi stayed far behind from them as mostly every student talked to reo while walking towards the cafe, he just walked, being occupied by his phone.
“oh! reo, f/n said that they’ll follow by. what cafe are we going to, again? gotta tell her so she’ll know where we’re studying.”
“oh, just the cafe 20 minutes near our school beside the arcade store. tell her and she’ll know.”
oh shit…nagi remembers her. the girl that gave him the stink eye when the soccer ball almost hit…
‘what was her name again…?’ nagi’s thoughts began to sink in wonder. oh right…her name is y/n. it’s been a long time since nagi last saw her. so y/n’s friend was coming by to the study group…great, looks like god wasn’t on his side today. he’s a 100% sure she’ll be irritated if she saw him there at the same table.
when the group entered the cafe, reo easily booked them a large table where all could sit beside one another without any problems. everyone cheered for him. nagi wasn’t able to sit besides reo since it seems like he was seated between two girls who were calling over for his attention, asking how this formula works or how to solve this problem in the most ear screeching voice nagi could ever hear. maths was hell, and reo was a master of all subjects in their class.
it was around 1:58pm when their group studying began. nagi barely paid any attention to what reo was tutoring to them. he’s silently playing on his phone that was well hidden under the desk, while his classmates focused on their books in hand. when he finds reo to be distracted with the tutoring, nagi decided to pretend to excuse himself to go to the bathroom; when he’s really planning to visit the arcade next door instead. the snowy haired male wasn’t interested in the study anyways.
he finds himself going outside the cafe and hurriedly rushed to the arcade door, where at first enter was a glance of neon lights and game-like explosions blasting from the inside. nagi’s eyes sparkled from the sight of one of his favorite games at one of the arcade stalls nearby, he had enough quarters with him, maybe playing a few rounds wouldn’t hurt.
the thing that was a pain, is that there were many players on line. as in many. the game had its reasons of why it was going popular today, and nagi knew that very well.
‘such a hassle…there’s so many people in line…better if i exchange a few quarters first just in case..’ he thoughts to himself as he heads towards to one of the employers in the arcade arena. the aisle was surrounded by a lot of people possibly his age, and some half of them were loving couples who were comfortable enough to flirt with one another in public. displaying affection in areas like this is enough to make nagi sick.
next to him were crane machines (and players throwing slight tantrums when the stuffed animal went back down), ticket counters, and racing car games. his eyes darted everywhere, trying to look for a few exchanges for his whole dollar yen until he spotted a figure in front of one of the crane machines.
h/l h/c hair..a short figure…and the reflection of the glass from the crane game.
ah
oh..!
it was her
her hands were manoeuvring over the crane’s handle, focusing on what stuffed animal she plans to get. however, the stuffed bunny fell back down to where it came from, and he hears y/n groan in dismay. nagi finds himself watching her attempt to get the stuffed bunny for at least two more rounds. although, in those two rounds, the poor girl still wasn’t able to get the stuffed toy she wanted. her pout made her look like a toddler. nagi had no idea how long he was gazing at y/n till he failed to notice she was already turning around and saw him. she jumped in surprise.
“ah..! n-nagi-san..?! is that you??”
“oh…hey,” was all he replied, very casually. y/n’s face shifted into a look of puzzlement, holding her school bag tight in her palms as she tilted her head, “what are you doing here? i thought you were part of reo’s study group..”
“eh..got bored. decided to drop by here instead. what’re you doing here?”
she giggles. “aha, you’re…very blunt and straightforward about it. i’m here because f/n-chan is part of the study group..isn’t reo going to be angry if he finds out you’re here..?”
he shrugs, “don’t know. but i know reo, so i trust he won’t. i think..” he thinks. he’s been playing with the purple haired boy for almost 4 months now, and his talent being used as an instrument for soccer and for his and reo’s dream to bring home the world cup…nagi just wishes he would know how to study expressions more. but now…reo wasn’t with him, instead there’s this girl (who is his classmate at school), looking over at him with a curious stare.
“don’t worry. i’ll talk to him out of this if he did.”
“ah…ok, i see..”
“by the way, are you having trouble getting that plush bunny at the crane machine?”
“eh..?? so you’ve noticed..”
“ ‘ts easy. don’t know why you have such a hard time..”
“i-i’m not an expert..!”
“mm..then, i’ll give it a try..”
“you will..??”
“mm..”
nagi wasn’t quite sure what had gotten into him when he decided to take over the controller of the crane machine, however he did know is that he easily won the bunny plushie for y/n, who gave him the most softest and widest smile he has ever seen. reo had beamed at him like that before, in fact he was the first one who had ever shown nagi appreciation and like towards the boring genius. but, something about how y/n did seemed…a little odd.
“that was amazing..! you did it with no hesitation..!”
“like i said, ‘ts easy..all you have to do is find the right angle and press the button to grab it.”
“how are you able to find the perfect angle so easily though?? nagi-san you must have sharp eyes.”
“you ask a lot of questions..”
“ah! sorry!”
and the next thing he knew, he was sitting next to her at one of the dining tables, licking on an ice cream while y/n continued to talk a lot about her interests. in return, nagi told her about him and reo, and at first y/n mistaken the two of them as a couple due to how close they were. the only reply nagi gave was ‘cringe.’
“i’m not interested in getting into a relationship…sounds like a drag to always have quality time with them just because you like them..”
“though, not quality time is always required in a relationship, nagi-san. there are other languages in love, too…i heard..”
“is that so? well that’s even more of a bother…”
having such a conversation like this with a girl…nagi has no idea what was coming to him.
he didn’t know how long they started talking to one another. all he knew, was that he helped her win a stuffed animal in some boring crane machine, and she followed him when he began to play the game he waited for, and watched him beat every player lined up, then, the two of them went to a dining table at the side and ordered ice cream. however, their convo with one another was cut short when f/n bursted inside the arcade along with reo, and spotted the two of them together eating. reo had this fizzled expression on his look, his face having questions of what the two of them were doing together, while f/n was surprised her best friend was with someone like nagi.
“oh! nagi-san, before we part, do you have line?”
nagi felt his shoulders weigh down a bit. “line id? uhh…yeah.”
“let’s exchange ids…is it ok? i…i wanna keep talking to you.”
head empty, nagi wasn’t sure what to reply for that while her best friend seems to be staring at him intensely.
“mm…sure.”
well, at least it was you who made the first move…nagi thinks to himself.
weird
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he will never forget the day…in which the day he fell in love with you.
the news of the blue lock staff members giving the bllk-11 team the order of having a vacation after defeating the u20 team brought excitement over to nagi’s head. he missed his home, ahh he also missed his cactus, he misses his warm bed and…
‘ah…why am i thinking of y/n again..?’
once he got all his stuff back, nagi made the decision of jumping on his mattress and take a nap when he’s back home. he was fetched home by one of the blue lock buses, he bid farewell to the friends he made along the way during the (hellish) soccer project, and by the time he reaches his door, nagi was happy to find choki back all healthy on his window still.
probably ba-ya was the one who returned choki. he did leave it on her hands after all. then again…he remembered what he told reo back during their match alongside isagi and barou. nagi couldn’t help but give out a small sigh once he looked over choki.
‘such a drag…thinking too much is a hassle..’
he left his stuff on the ground before jumping on his bed and bringing out his phone. the weather was nice…comfortable even. the perfect weather where he can do nothing but sleep the entire day away.
if that’s the case…why is he suddenly looking for y/n’s contact number?
when the other line rung, he can hear her picking up the phone, her breath shaky on the side.
“y/n?”
“ah..! nagi-san, sorry if i picked up late!”
“eh..? that was a quick pick up than i expected, y’know..?” she… still sounded the same. during the match with u20, he could actually see her at one of the stalls of the audience along with her friends. he wanted to wave hi, nagi wanted to talk to her even like before after the game. he just didn’t know he only had the courage now to make a call. come to think of it, why did he even call her on the first place?
“ehe…sorry, i was cleaning my room. ah.! also, congrats on your team’s win. i’m so happy for you and reo!”
he frowns. “mm, thanks..”
“how is he by the way? i was texting him after the game but…he’s not responding. is he alright?”
nagi thinks of himself as someone who would just cast everything away aside so that it wouldn’t be a problem for him (or as he’d like to call it, be more of a bother to him). so, he’s so confused on why he’s telling y/n everything of what happened to him at blue lock, what happened between him and reo, and the rush he felt during the progress of becoming the world’s best striker. he was letting all of his feelings out…to nobody but y/n.
y/n listens attentively, humming on every detail he said. giving feedback of what she thinks…comforting him on the other side of the phone.
what nagi didn’t know the most, of why his heart was beating so fast right now.
more…he wanted to talk to her more..
he didn’t even realize it began to rain outside his window. the snowy haired male didn’t realize either he was talking to her for so long. nagi isn’t a chatty person, everyone knows his stoic and unbothered behaviour, however when it came to y/n..he just doesn’t know what’s going on with himself anymore.
nagi feels warm.
“nagi-san…are you ok?” y/n’s voice was soft, like a whisper. she sounded concerned, worried. nagi’s eyes dropped to the cushion of his bed, staring at his socks—feeling the rain patter hard on the window next to him, and his grey eyes painted with a natural dull cover.
“yeah..” is all he replied. “..m just feeling a bit tired. that’s all.”
“i see…i’m glad you called. i was also planning to call you. i just decided to tidy up around first before doing so, yet i didn’t expect you’d call me first..aha..” y/n says, letting out a soft giggle. nagi could hear her adjust her phone, the sound of soft pillows rummaging on the other side. she was probably laying down on her bed right now as it rained.
“you know…after your game against the u-20 team…i wanted to see you.”
just like the moment when reo looked up to him and his boring demeanor, when he first made the scoring goal against the u-20, when he managed to trick rin itoshi back at blue lock…nagi felt like his heart beating ten times faster now. the world pauses for a second, he couldn’t hear the rain outside anymore, only the sound of his heartbeat echoing through. the feeling of warmth that he felt when talking to her…it seemed to be increasing so much he feels the tip of his ears turning red.
this is a new feeling to him. not like any soccer match or anything involved with reo and his other friends, no. all of this fuzzy emotions building up inside of his stomach…all new. there was silence over the phone.
“u-umm..sorry, that was a strange thing to say, isn’t it?”
nagi fixed his posture a little, pulling a pillow close to his chest. “nah…well, maybe a bit. it isn’t much of a bother though.”
badump
“oh really..? well i’m glad then! i thought i might’ve said something awkward…sorry, you were just silent for a moment there i thought you were feeling odd about what i said.”
badump
he hugs the pillow tighter. “no.. ‘s fine..i was just surprised you wanted to talk and see someone like me. you and reo are weird.”
badump
“e-eh? only? i’m really sorry then!”
badump..
“but really though, i really hope you and reo get along again soon. you two are so well known in our school..! popular even, i overhear the girls in the bathroom that you two are amazing that you guys brought a powerhouse school down!”
stupid fucking heart..why do you keep beating so fast? you’re just talking to a girl.
the rain fell a little fainter, although the melodies of his heart didn’t seem to stop whenever y/n continued to talk on the phone. his bangs covered his eyes, only listening to her soothing tone of her sweet voice. she sounded pretty…so fucking pretty.
“hey..” nagi suddenly cuts her off. this strange sensation rubbing through his chest. y/n obliged, and immediately went quiet. “hm?”
“i think i like you.”
maybe he was the strange one after all.
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625 notes · View notes
bingwriterxo · 8 months
Text
paparazzi
pairing: jenna ortega x reader
summary: in which an accident occurs after your dinner with jenna
warnings: mentions of blood
word count: 1200+
author's note: another request for the books (find here)! also, i couldn't resist the end references. they're just too good. also x2, 100th post woooo!
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"There she is!"
"Jenna! Jenna!"
"Over here!"
What had started as a quiet dinner in celebration of your two-year anniversary had quickly descended into chaos when a few paps caught wind of the fact that America's newest 'it girl', a.k.a your lovely girlfriend, was seen in public after having disappeared off the face of the Earth for the past month (the two of you had been vacationing, and then you got sick, and then she got sick from taking care of you, so you had been homebodies while trying to recover).
The moment you stepped outside of the restaurant, hand intertwined with Jenna's and body pulled close into her back so that she wouldn't lose you amongst the crowd, you were swarmed by flashing lights that blinded your eyes, shouts of your girlfriend's name that were almost deafening, and people, people, people.
Jenna had an iron-clad grip on your hand, but people were shoving you in the opposite direction as they tried to get a close-up shot of your girlfriend, and your body couldn't take the struggle of being pulled in two different ways. Before you knew it, you had lost your hold on the actress and were left drowning in the sea of photographers.
"Y/N?" Jenna's voice rang clear above the commotion. You stretched your neck to try and look for her, but it was no use: she was too crowded.
If we ever get separated, just meet me at the car, okay? she had told you when the two of you first began dating, back when you hadn't yet realized what you were getting yourself into.
Just meet at the car, you thought. Simple enough.
You tried to maneuver past people, keeping your head down and your eyes trained on your feet so that you wouldn't step on any toes. However, it was much easier said than done as the spaces between bodies grew smaller and smaller, making it nearly impossible for you to get by.
"Sorry. 'Scuse me, could I just--" you tried, but to no avail. You had barely moved an inch when you heard her voice again.
"Y/N?!" She sounded closer this time, like she was moving toward you. You still had no visuals on her, but if she was trying to make her way to you, then you could make it easier on her and try to find her as well, right?
Guess we're jumping in, you thought with a huff.
You pushed against people, having much less care for their toes this time around, and used your arms to try spreading them apart, creating little gaps for you to slip through. It took you a few minutes, but finally, finally, you could see a head of brunette hair and a pair of wide, frantic eyes as they flitted from one person to the next, undoubtedly looking for you.
"Jenna!" you called, and her head snapped in your direction. There was still a line of people separating the two of you, but as her eyes softened and the crease between her brows disappeared, you knew that she could see you.
"Y/N!" she shouted in relief as her arm shot toward you, her fingers wiggling in desperation.
You reached for her, hand brushing over peoples' shoulders and past their faces, and just as her finger skimmed over the metal of your ring, you were thrown sideways by a photographer, hitting the concrete hard.
Your vision blacked, your ears rang, and you could feel liquid pooling beneath your head. Is that...? You blinked your eyes open and sat up slightly, the pads of your fingers dipping into the puddle. You cringed when you saw they were red. Oh, that's my blood.
You looked up when you noticed people were parting quickly, their feet shuffling to the side and creating a large circle around you. Jenna rushed into the middle, her arms extended toward you. She kneeled down, taking your cheeks in her hand.
"Oh my god," she said. She pulled you closer to inspect your injury. "You're bleeding."
The cameras never stopped clicking.
"I'm okay," you said, even though she sounded a bit muffled to you and she was a little blurrier than normal.
"You're bleeding," she repeated, like you hadn't heard her the first time.
You placed your hand over her own, palm pressed against her knuckles. "I'm fine, baby."
She huffed, and you watched as her eyes turned from worried to enraged. She looked up at the paps, her lip turned up in disgust. "Look at what you guys did! She's bleeding and you guys are still taking your goddamn pictures?!"
Oh shit, you thought. This is gonna be everywhere tomorrow. You could already imagine the headlines: Jenna Ortega -- America's It Girl, or America's Bitch Girl?
"Jenna, baby," you cooed, calling her attention back to you before any more damage could be done to her 'good girl' reputation. "I'm alright, see?" You stood, albeit on shaky legs, and the woman was quick to wrap her arm around your waist, helping to hold you steady. "Let's just go home."
Jenna pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, a million different emotions flickering through her eyes. "I have half a mind to shove their damn cameras up their asses," she muttered, loud enough for only you to hear. Her grip tightened. "Or better yet, beat them all over their heads with their stupid fucking--"
"J, come on." You started ushering her toward where the car was parked, and she sighed, annoyed.
"Fine." She used her body to shield you from any photographers that dared to follow, which, to your surprise, there were plenty. "But if one of them so much as looks at you the wrong way, I swear I'll--"
"Do something involving their cameras up their asses, I know," you said, chuckling.
"Damn right I will," she grumbled, reaching out to open the passenger's side door for you. You offered her a grateful smile before slipping into the car and watching as she rounded the hood. She gave one last Kubrick-like stare to the remaining paps before joining you, huffing as she sat behind the wheel.
The two of you sat in silence for most of the ride home, with Jenna grumbling and mumbling to herself, and you trying to ignore the pounding in your head. It wasn't until you were on the street of your shared apartment that she spoke up.
"I should sue them all," she said. "Sue every last one of them."
You giggled. "Oh yeah? And what's that gonna do?" you asked lightly.
"Teach them a damn lesson about personal space." She clenched her jaw. "Clearly they didn't learn anything about it in preschool."
"Baby, I'm fine." You placed a hand on her thigh, your thumb rubbing at the hem of her dress. "There's no need for suing or beating any of them up."
She parked the car and turned to you, eyes glowing in the light of the parking lot. "They hurt you." She reached up and placed her fingers on your jaw, tilting your head upward slightly. "You have blood on your forehead."
You shrugged. "'Tis but a scratch," you said, grinning as you quoted a line from one of your favorite movies. Jenna rolled her eyes, though the smallest of smirks was beginning to show.
"Whatever, nerd." She leaned over the center console and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. "Let's just get you cleaned up."
You smiled. "I'm invincible!"
"Stop quoting Monty Python!"
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lunarvicar · 9 months
Text
a drink from her cup
inspired by this post. price x moth!reader. content warnings for violence and implied sex.
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mothiverse taglist: @shuttlelauncher81 @bangirl134 @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya @tapioca-marzipan @solidly-indulgent @soapyghost @antigonusyuki @fluffysmiko @jxvipike .@chloeforde @deadbranch @sofasoap @thomaslefteyebrow
“You didn’t have to do that,” she murmurs. “Not for me.”
His hands are still shaking. He balls them up on the table.
If not for her, then who?
She’s wiping at his knuckles with a cool towel, her touch a balm on his raging heart. Her hands are gentle but not overly so, her unflinching touch a testament to her faith in him. She knows he’d rather feel the sting of the antiseptic. 
He doesn’t bother to wince when she has to scrub at a patch of dried blood. The rough fabric pulls at the scrapes in his skin, raw pink flesh smarting under fresh scarlet drops.
It’s like being worshiped in a pitiless way, his singular supplicant meeting his eyes without fear or hesitation. A different form of reverence.
“Someone had to,” he says. Pleads. Believe in me. Everything I do is for you. 
A drop of his blood mars her skin. He feels a single stab of regret.
“You should have let me handle it. You’ll hear from Laswell, you know.”
“Hmm.” He’s noncommittal. That was never going to happen, not when it was bound to get physical like that. Hurtling inevitably towards the meeting of fists and flesh, the undeniable human default to violence. It was always going to be him or her, bleeding in the end.
She tapes a strip of gauze across his knuckles. He’ll take it off later, let the scratches dry in the open air and wear them like a cross around his neck, proof of his convictions. Of his victory.
Moth walks away again. He feels her absence like a cold wind.
“You could have let Ghost do it,” she says into the cabinet. “He would have.”
“Of course he would have,” Price grunts. 
“The captain on base shouldn’t get his hands dirty like that. Not over petty arguments.”
His hand is starting to throb. He wonders who’s patching up the other guy.
“You think it was petty, that he called you a cunt?” Price can feel his lip curling.
A pause. Then- 
She concedes. “It wasn’t nothing.” Her back is still turned to him.
Suddenly he misses her direct stare. Look at me, he implores. 
When she finally faces him again, she’s holding two fingers of whiskey in a tumbler. He unballs his fists and presses them flat into the table, trying to shove back his fury at the vulnerability on her face. Months of earned respect, hard work and bloodshed, washed away in one abusive moment.
A word he prefers to groan into her skin, synonymous with heaven and perfection in his mind. He’d almost forgotten it could even be used as an insult.
The whiskey in the glass is the second-best thing to soothe his wrath, and he knows full well that she - the number one - doesn’t deserve to be another man’s outlet tonight. Not for this. So when she approaches, he extends one shaking, bleeding hand -
She pulls it out of his reach, lifts it to her own mouth. He watches the liquid slip between her lips, battles with himself over his need for her, for the calm wash of whiskey in his throat, his need to go find that piss-poor excuse for a man and -
“Next time,” she says, setting the half-empty glass into his hand, “you let me get a hit in before you intervene.”
He rotates the glass, drinks from where her mouth had been. The whiskey overpowers her taste. He wants it from the source.
“Deal.”
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sofixxoxo · 3 months
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𝕄𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕤
𝔸𝕔𝕖 𝕩 𝔾ℕ!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣
ℂ𝕎: 𝕞𝕠𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕟 𝕒𝕦 𝔹𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕗 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕔𝕣𝕚𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟: 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕘𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕤 𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕥’𝕤 𝕤𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕪 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕫𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖. 𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝔸𝕔𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕠?
(𝕀 𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕒 𝕠𝕗 𝕒 𝕗𝕣𝕚𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕔𝕖 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒 𝕔𝕣𝕦𝕤𝕙 🤧 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕤𝕠 𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕘!!)
𝔼𝕟𝕛𝕠𝕪!
🧤🧣🧤🧣🧤🧣🧤🧣🧤🧣🧤🧣🧤🧣🧤🧣
“Ace? Ace, can you hear me? I have, like, five seconds till my fingers freeze. Do you have any spare gloves? I left mine at home, please, tell me you have a pair on you. Ah- ok, can’t feel my hand anymore, see you!”
Your call does, somehow, reach Ace through the raging blizzard, but that’s it. The only words it manages to cough out in its electronic deep-frostbite state before finally shutting down are: Ace, hear, till, anything, home, and tell me... which don’t really form a coherent message. You clearly sounded distressed, though, and another word Ace might have discerned was pair. Or was it pear? Were you asking him to get you pears? 
Be it pairs or pears, he hopes you didn’t just cancel your long-anticipated meeting, otherwise you’ll probably see each other only next year and, well, in the best case in passing, with all the post-christmas-post-new-year hustling, and chores, and also studying. No. No, Ace will not tolerate this. 
So he decides to go to a grocery store, and when he comes out it’s with a still shocked but revived phone and a bag of pears, to the sight of your cold-burnt cheeks and a snowdrift on your head with a very probably fully consumed beanie underneath it.
You take a hand out of your pocket: it's also lobster-red, and painfully gloveless.
So...yeah, it wasn't a pear which you were talking about.
"Ace!" you wave and stuff your nerve-endingless hand back inside. Your voice fights through the thick layers of a scarf (or two?..) but is immediately scratched away by the clawing wind. 
He thinks you look the most adorable you have ever been. Then he feels guilty, because you're obviously uncomfortable and it's not the time for wistful sighs materialized into tiny clouds of longing. 
"Are those…pears?" you clarify when he comes close enough to distinguish the bag and its contents. Which is too close for the comfort of Ace’s burning heart. 
“Uh, yeah. Well, that’s- for later. And I couldn’t hear you very well over the phone, what was it?”
“Do you have any spare gloves? Left mine at home,” you poke a flushed thumb out to demonstrate your oversight. 
Ace doesn’t, sadly, and the only ones he has are already protecting his own warmth. So the only possible solution his chivalrous mind comes up with is-
“Woah, what the hell,” you breathe out as Ace slips the glove off off his left hand and steam rises from the skin bared to the winter. “Wish I could run that hot.”
The curious press of your fingertips against his palm sends a shock to the system, and not at all because of the difference in temperatures. Ace shoves the glove your way before his face starts to visibly steam also. 
The second Ace makes sure your hand is properly covered, he grabs the other one (mentally chanting ohgodohgodohgoddontmakeitweirddontmakeitweird) and pushes both of them inside his fur-lined pocket. In a moment of some hot-headed bravery Ace intertwines his fingers with yours. 
“Not giving you my other one, don’t wanna hear a lecture from Marco about heat maintenance rules,” he explains, or grumbles, or prays he doesn’t die of heart failure on an icy sidewalk, and sets off in the direction of the place you were supposed to go to in the very beginning. Ace neither hears your surprised yelp, nor feels the bag of pears repeatedly hit his thigh. 
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timbitshockey · 6 months
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now don’t quote me on this in a few years when it’s my guys who start retiring but it’s interesting to me to see all the retirements of these legends and longtime players being met with fear and stress about “our” own future because i think there’s something really, like, beautiful about it. it’s sad of course but it’s also, like, really special to see an ending? as much as we joke about it, none of these guys are actually old men, and now they get a whole world to do what they want in, and be as involved or not in the world they left behind as they want to be. maybe they’ll disappear off the public map or maybe they’ll park next to pk or gretzky on the panels or maybe they’ll be behind the bench for the next generation of superstars but time is coming for us all and they leaned into the hit. maybe i’m just sentimental about the human condition but it’s the winnie the pooh how lucky we are to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard of it all for me. it’ll be a whole new world for all of us! how scary and exciting and great and terrible! etc!
i think a lot about how my mom, when she was young, had such a ridiculously huge crush on bruce boudreau. she would drive hours into the city and wait outside rinks after leafs games and practices just to get a glimpse of him leaving ‘cause she couldn’t afford actual tickets and one time she managed to meet him and got him to autograph a card for her. when she tells me about it even now her whole face lights up with excitement. and to me, you know, my mental image of bruce boudreau is a little different than hers, so it’s a little silly, and i tease her about it, “there’s your boyfriend!” while pointing behind the canucks bench, that kind of thing. but i know when she hears me tell some story about sidney crosby all heart-eyes she’s thinking about her and bruce boudreau. and i really do look forward to the years when i’ll tell some kid i loved brian dumoulin and she’ll go “that old guy behind the bench?” and tease me about it and i’ll smile knowingly while she tells me about her favourite player because someday she’ll be me and a new kid will be her and on and on and on. i love that in a little melancholy way.
anyway this is way too sentimental by miles but you can’t get mad at me because this is MY blog and i can do what i want. siri play “walking in the wind” by one direction
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mysticmellowlove · 4 months
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Telling Yan how crazy we get at the thought of him with another woman. I mean we are absolutely feral. The thought of him obsessing over another woman, touching another woman, loving another woman.
We know he never would but there is still a dark thought about some sneaky bitch snaking her way in. We can’t handle it, it would break us and that sadness fronts as rage. Well not exactly a front because we would be carnal and sad at the same time. Yan noticing our behavior one day and asking if he did something wrong but to his surprise we say something like: “ I can’t handle the thought, the idea, of you being with another woman that isn’t me. I would go insane it would be my last straw. I would destroy her and myself. I would lose any humanity I have for you. I can’t- I can’t think of it…” and him just wide eyed in surprise 😨 are we insecure? We couldn’t be. He was ours.
warnings; fem reader, sub yan, cunnilingus, dom reader, sub male, manipulation,
a/n; okay so this one went in a different direction than I was planning but I hope it's enjoyable :)
All he could do was stand there as you expressed these feelings you had locked away inside of you. He could see the wavering control you seemed to have over yourself, the tenseness in your body and the slight sheen to your eyes.
He wanted to hug you, whisper that he would never even dare think about another woman but at the same time he was distraught. Why, why did you feel that way? Was he not enough? Were you not satisfied with him, did you think that he didn't find you attractive?
"If that were to happen then.... then I can't be responsible for what I would do." You murmured, your voice so deep and distraught, so full of uncontrollable emotion. He wanted to silence those thoughts and knew would do it in the only way he knew how.
Your ramblings were silences as the sound of his knees hitting the floor echoed around you like a shot in the dark. You looked over at him to see that he was on the floor in front of you, his head bent in reverence.
"I would never leave you, or think about another woman. You are the epitome of beauty, you own me so wholly my thoughts revolve around you. You are everything to me." He looked up at you through his lashes, the sheer devotion in his gaze was astounding, something you had never seen before from him. When you first started dating he would follow you like a dog but this... this was something entirely different.
He was looking at you as if you hung the stars, as if you were the star at the centre of the universe as if you were the very air he breathed.
His hands trailed gently up your legs, his thumbs rubbed your inner thighs as you couldn't help but feel that familiar pulse of arousal. The sight of him prostrating himself before you, so ready to quell any thoughts you had wavering inside your mind.
"Please allow me to show you just how much you mean to me." He whispered, his tone near silent. You looked at him for a moment, your eyes a storm and your breath a raging wind. You could rip him apart at a moment's notice and still, he was right here with you. You nodded and he lit up.
He took no time in pulling the bottom of your skirt upwards, going to throw it over his shoulders before you caught it instead. You wanted to see him, needed to see proof. You looked down at him enraptured as he gently let his mouth rove over your entrance before he peppered your clit with small kisses.
As if he had just gotten his first taste he wasted no more time in letting his tongue dip into you, dragging up and down as he revelled in the taste. You couldn't help but close your eyes for a moment, the thoughts of being abandoned washed away with the sound of his obscene slurps.
You couldn't help but be wet at the sight of him, the sound, of him on his knees in front of you.
"See, only you. I love only you and will only ever love you," he muttered into your folds as his hands gently pressed into your thighs where he was holding on, anchoring himself.
Your mouth dropped into a smile as your hands gently entangled in his hair, tugging him impossibly closer. So long as you had your hands on him he would never leave, so long as you kept drawing him in like this he would never leave...
so long as you continued to manipulate him like this he would never leave.
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arqhms · 5 months
Text
$TING — GRAVES & ADLER
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KINKTOBER PROMPTS | Interrogation
AO3 | MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
DEBRIEF | Graves’ and Adler’s means of getting information out of you.
WARNINGS | smut, finger fucking, light choking, use of aphrodisiac, depiction of an unhealthy relationship, fem! reader.
NOTE | this is me holding back from writing Graves & Adler smut where they just bully the reader,, thinking about it but i have self control… included adler for the small handful of people who love him as much as i do 🫶
ADVISORY | NSFW CONTENT BELOW.
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GRAVES, FOXY & ADAMANT.
“Didn’t expect to see you out here, sugar.”
His figure is barely visible, carolina hues basking in feverish light. You nearly wince at his tone, all too familiar— memories rush back and you scowl his way.
“Didn’t expect you to chase a paycheck.” You fire back, hands rubbing against thick cord. “You’ve changed.”
Graves steps forward, swallowing the light, staring you down like he’s picked up the scent of prey on the wind. Dust swirls through the air as he bends over, face stopping mere inches from yours. His tongue pokes at the hollow of his cheek, eyebrows knit together, watching.
Something in him still doesn’t understand it. Traces of his life he’s desperately chased whole, right where he wants you. However, something’s different this time. When he looks in your eyes, he can only see the enemy staring back.
It pushes him to no end. Control slips away from his hands and just as he thinks he’s getting somewhere, the chair you sit on hits the floor loudly and you’re pinned against the wall. He sees you smile and his grip tightens, closing around your throat in an attempt to kill the remains of you that float amidst his head.
You keep looking at him, and his resolutions fall against the floor he stands on. The gleam in your eyes reflects off of years passed, and he senses the approach you take before you speak.
“You’re Shepherd’s bitch, Graves.”
Playing dirty, as always.
“I’m no one’s bitch. But you…?” The reply pools off of his lips, cool and relaxed, running a hand down your neck. “Still miss me, Mrs. Graves?”
He smirks, lightly jingling your dog tags.
“You got yourself caught.”
You scoff, shifting against the wall. Graves’ thigh pushes against your pelvis, keeping you in place.
“Wouldn’t have been any fun if you never got what you were looking for.”
His head tilts to the side, eyeing you carefully.
“Are you saying I wouldn’t have been able to find you?”
You lean forward, lips brushing against his. Danger flicks between your gazes, but he doesn’t push away.
“I’m telling you.”
Graves’ lips are rough, as is the grip that holds you against concrete. You writhe in his grasp, moving so your arms can hook around his neck. Gunpowder kisses your tongue, the scent of war tickling your nose as he kisses you. Light stubble scratches your skin, opposed to the clean shave you feel in your dreams.
You allow him to strip you of your belt, canines pressing against the inner flesh of your mouth when he tugs at your fly. A smile creeps along his face, pulling away from your lips to study your face. You’re nearly the same as he remembers, so dangerous, yet holding the same dumbstruck look in your eyes whenever he touches you.
“Ever thought of renewing your vows?”
Rough, padded fingers circle around your clit as he tugs his other gloves off. The noise that comes out of you is caught between a laugh and a moan. Graves smirks at the sound, breath pooling against your neck as he replaces his gloved hand with his bare one.
“Maybe.” You shrug, groaning at the sudden intrusion of his fingers against your cervix. “What’s my price?”
Graves’ fingers rub your walls, and you start to burn up. You direct your gaze to his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his dick considers your question. Sweat gathers at your temple, and you bite down on your hand when he adds another finger.
It feels like it did 10 years ago. You and your husband, holed up in a shitty base in a shitty town fucking like it’s your last day on earth. You reminisce on those days often, back when Graves was still a marine and had a ring sitting on his finger. Back when Shepherd was off his radar, before he took you off of his too.
He looks slightly older; scar lighter on his skin and faint wrinkles crawling against the corners of his eyes. The way he fucks you is still the same, impatient and needy, just how you like it.
Before you know it, your abdomen feels likes it’s twisting into knots and you cry out from the pleasure. A low groan pushes its way out of his throat, canines fastened to his lower lip as his fingers pump in and out of your pussy.
“Another round, maybe?” He grunts out, mindlessly pushing his erection against your naval. “That’s cheap, ain’t it darlin’?”
ADLER, DECEITFUL & COY.
“Package came in from labs, thought you’d wanna see it.”
You round the corner of the hall, seeing Adler perched up against the island in your kitchen. A small, plastic bag sits on the side nearing you, adorned with a CIA label.
“Huh.” You hum, pinching the seal between your fingers. “You know what it’s for?”
Adler shrugs, and you tilt your head in acknowledgment.
“Only one way to find out.”
You can feel Adler’s gaze on you, watching through a pair of clear lensed aviators. He’s leaning against the edge of the counter, seemingly over interested in the contents of the bag. A light crackle emanates from the bag as you open it, and you’re hit with a puff of a silver toned dust.
“Jesus.” You cough, subconsciously dropping the bag to wave a hand through the air. “What the Hell is this, Russ?”
Adler stays quiet, perched up against the wall with his hands folded between his chest. His lack of response tells you all that you need to know, and you scoff.
Then the worry sets in.
You feel a subtle heat crawling up your arms, seemingly moving its way up to your face through your veins. Within seconds, your entire body behinds to tingle. Your body feels hot, almost like you’re covered in layers that are glued to your skin.
The world is loud, nerves burning against your spinal cord as confusion races through your mind. You run your hands through your hair, feeling a distinct sensation pool in your abdomen; it takes root, leaking down to your naval.
Through the rushes of blood in your head, you can hear Adler’s shoes click against the floor. The sound makes your stomach churn with need, and you look at him, standing just a few inches away.
“Adler..” You call, reaching out for him. “Something’s— wrong. Help me..”
You sway, losing balance and falling forward. Adler breaks your fall, holding you against the ridge of his turtleneck. You cling onto him as if you’ll die if you let go, eyes opening only when you feel yourself being set down on the couch.
Adler kneels in front of you, catching the hand that paws at his waist. He runs a hand along your face, lips quirking at the balm encasing his fingers. You reach out again, and he makes no motion to stop you.
“Didn’t see this as an interrogation drug.” He mumbles, allowing you to tug at his zipper. “Fuckin’ freaks.”
Your mind is completely lost to him, focused only on the hem of his jeans. An animalistic desire scalds your nerves, and you whine as he pushes you against the edge of the couch.
“It burns, Russ.” You groan, bucking your hips up as he moves to unbutton your jeans. “I need you…”
“You’ll be okay, sweetheart.”
His hands smooth over your pussy, fingers dragging over your clit, adding a teasing flick as he thinks. You lock your legs around his back, attempting to force him into you as your hands palm his dick. Adler clicks his tongue, slowly pushing one of his fingers into you, deciding to test the waters.
“What did you dream about last night?”
“You.” Your voice comes out strangled, practically squeezing his cock in desperation. “I always do.”
His eyebrows raise in interest, finding this drug more useful than dozens he’s used in the past. Shame it had to be tested on you, though. Or.. maybe he was enjoying this a little more than it seemed.
Adler lets you pull him forward, fingers pulling out of your pussy as you sloppily stuff yourself with his cock. He bites down on his cheek as you rut against his hips, searching for friction.
“Tell me,” He continues, placing a hand behind your back to guide you as he lays down. “What am I doing in your dreams?”
“You’re.. ugh— you’re fucking me, Russ.” You moan, dragging yourself down on his cock. “The real you never has time for me— anymore.”
He tilts his head at your confession, reaching over to the coffee table for a pack of cigarettes.
“We’ll see to that.”
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KINKTOBER MASTERLIST
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hydrasra · 11 months
Text
Not from this world
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SYNOPSIS: waking up in liyue felt like a dream. though it quickly turned into a nightmare.
DISCLAIMER: this is just an idea that popped in mind while I was rereading my POST about lumine's friendship with the other archons in a sagau! impostor! gold blood! au. tho with a slightly different take at the start. I might work further in it depending on my creative battery. some swearing here and there, may be more oriented, some ooc moments here and there maybe. LUMINE IS THE CHOSEN TRAVELER. no gender mentioned for the reader. NOT BETA NOR PROOFREAD (shocker)
me in a post: I'm not going to post for a small while
also me: *gets randomly hit by an idea and has an urge to write it down*
ii. REUNIONS AND ANSWERS
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news about an impersonator looking like the creator spread fast to sumeru, fast to the acting grand sage first. however, he frowned, that had nothing to do with him.
why should he worry about that? those in charge will catch the impostor eventually once he makes matters go public.
and that's why, during a meeting with the lesser lord, she enquired him about what was bothering him once said meeting was adjourned and she pulled him aside.
"nothing is bothering me, lesser lord kusanali," was his reply.
she smiled up at him, eyes closing, "if that truly was the case then you wouldn't be frowning," she let out a small giggle.
if alhaitham didn't know any better, he would have actually confused his lord to an actual child, and not an archon.
weighing the pros and cons of telling his archon about what has reached his ears first and foremost, and his colleagues as well, instead of the grand public.
truly, there were no cons against telling nahida.. so he did.
she only reassured him that she would look further into the matter and to not worry about it nor tell the public until she was certain she understood what was going on.
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"you called for me, greater lord kusanali?" wanderer asked as soon as he stepped inside the sanctuary of surasthana and was greeted by her at the door.
she did not even try to correct him, "I need you to accompany me inside to irminsul."
he frowned but nodded nonetheless.
"I want to find out what is going about the rumoured impostor," she started walking to the center of the room.
more confusion seeped inside the puppet's mind as he followed her, "impostor?"
nahida looked at him from over her shoulder, "someone is, apparently, impersonating the divine creator."
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all that could be heard was footsteps. running footsteps.
some were angry stomping almost, some were faster than most. only one stood out: it was light, and if agile could be a sound, it would be those footsteps.
and luckily, it belonged to you.
"where to?"
the wanderer flew to some, what it looked like on your end, random direction. if it weren't for his vision glowing, you would have lost sight of him in the unusual darkness of the night.
thinking about it now, why was it so dark? even the light provided by the moon did almost nothing to light up the world it seemed. was teyvat angry and trying to protect something? someone? you and your companion maybe?
"just a few metres more, your grace," you heard him said as he too decided to run along with you. his footsteps sounded, almost imperceptible however, mechanical.
you could only nod as beads of sweat rolled down your face and the wind caressed your body.
"quick, in here!" another familiar said and when looking at the source, you saw nahida opening the leaves that acted as doors of an abandoned hut, a device floating besides her and producing light.
without a single ounce of hesitation, you immediately grabbed wanderer's hand and made a turn to the right. nahida opened the doors further with the help of her device that immediately turned its light off once you both were safe inside.
however, it wasn't safe yet. the angry running footsteps could be heard. they weren't far now. all you could do was hold your breath, no matter how much you wanted to take a deep breath and finally relax a little after running for what felt like hours, your survival instinct just wouldn't let you do so, not until you were sure they were out of earshot.
"where did they go?!" they were right beside the well hidden hut.
"we lost them!" a raged filled voice could be heard
"keep on looking," that was a familiar voice, someone you treasured in the game and spent hours to build, to make stronger. so that's how they repay you?
'i see how it is, xiao.'
"we will have to let the authorities in sumeru know they the impostor is now in their land along with a companion," keqing's voice could be heard, stern and frustrated.
you looked around and barely saw anything, only the silhouettes of your... friends? as questions slowly filled your head, 'why can't they leave me alone? what did I do?'
retracing your steps from ever since you awoke into the world of your favourite game, you found that you did nothing wrong. maybe you the only mistake you made was to step into liyue harbour while smiling and was simply greeted back with polearms pointed at you and them screaming at you for impersonating someone. but who?
"argh! let's just retreat for now," one of the soldiers said as they all seemed to agree and walked away.
"I will let the tianquan know and ask her to deliver a letter to sumeru's officials," keqing spoke, determination present in her voice, "this impostor is to be eliminated at once."
as their voice faded into the distance, you finally let yourself heave a sigh of relief as nahida made her device light up once more, finally allowing you to see inside the small hut.
wanderer was squatting near the door, peering outside and nahida was looking at you, a small smile on her face.
oddly enough, this was comforting.
"evening, your grace," the archon bowed and that made you frown.
"why are you bowing to me?"
"it is a sign of respe-"
"please, don't. it makes me uncomfortable," and nahida only nodded at your words.
it was quiet for a few minutes as you pondered what was happening then you spoke up, making everyone in the room to turn and look at you, "why did you both call me 'your grace'?" and at the genuine confusion and curiousity, nahida spoke up once more after sharing a look with wanderer. was irminsul wrong about you?
"it is your title."
you shook your head, "last time I checked, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth nor am I royalty."
before nahida could speak once more, wanderer cut her off, "didn't you create teyvat? you are our creator and the one that guides us, it is only fair for us to call you by your title."
'create teyvat?'
you understood the guiding part as that was, in a sense, true, though you did not create teyvat.
"I did not."
silence once more, then the knowledge archon spoke, "what is it that you mean, your grace?"
"I did not create teyvat but I... I guess you are correct about me guiding you?"
and that prompted you to explain it to them; how teyvat was created by a group of people, not you, how they wrote each and every single person's in this world past, present and future. but that only seemed to make nahida look at you fondly.
"so there are more creators?" wanderer asked, frowning and you simply nodded.
"in a way? they aren't gods, they are all humans, like me."
"but you aren't human," nahida said as she took a few steps and stood in front of you, staring up at you in determination, "and the proof is on your leg."
ather words, you frown in confusion and looked down at your leg, your jeans had been cut through and you had a cut as well. your eyes widen at the small amount of blood trickling down your leg and sipping through your jeans.
it was gold.
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"how did the hunt go?" ningguang asked from her seat in the jade chamber, expecting to hear good news from the yuheng as she kept on writing in the scrolls that contained important information.
the silence that greeted her was what prompted the tianquan to look up, "well?"
"we lost them both," xiao spoke, appearing behind keqing and giving her a scare.
although that was a funny sight, ningguang couldn't find it in her when she heard his words, "what do you mean by that?"
keqing cleared her throat, "we lost them both in the forest near sumeru."
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"did you hear? there's an impostor that showed up in liyue," donna expressed to marjorie who nodded.
"I did! I also heard that they are hiding in sumeru and that some weirdo with an anemo vision helped them out."
"how could they help out an impostor when the real creator has been quiet instead of offering them to appease the creator's anger?!" donna exclaimed, huffing right at the end.
lumine watched and listened from afar as those two kept talking, "an impostor?"
"huh?" paimon looked up from eating her food, "waf d'you meaf?"
"don't speak with your mouth full."
swallowing down her food then letting out a satisfied sigh, she asked again, "sorry. anyway what did you mean?"
lumine glanced at donna and marjorie as donna went back to standing behind flora to keep an eye on the child, "those two were speaking about an impostor."
"impostor?"
"something about someone impersonating teyvat's creator."
"who in their right mind would impersonate the creator?!"
lumine let out a snort, "maybe lunatics like you."
"hey!"
as paimon went on a ramble, lumine got lost in thought. was that why you haven't guided her on the right path today? though a day for you could be months for them, should she, perhaps, say months instead of today?
it wouldn't hurt to visit sumeru and ask nahida, right?
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