#got half of a face up until it was too dark to properly work on him

[sainte-melasse]

🦇 Happy Halloween🦇

I didn’t really had any ideas to celebrate but Léopoldine looks cute as a plague nurse ^-^

Her advice of the season is : if you don’t have a pumpkin to decorate your home, any red hair will do just fine. Please don’t follow her dubious advice, she doesn’t even have any medical degree to properly back up her idea.

#bjd #doll #plague doctor #plague nurse #poor Morgan #he arrived here today after many fedex shenanigans #got half of a face up until it was too dark to properly work on him #and then was immediately forced to participate in an unexpected Halloween shoot as #the pumpkin #in a borrowed wig too small for him #and no eyes #rough start

[empresskylo]

beneath the mask ✩ chapter 1

➠ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠ SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠ CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. wc 2.5k. ➠ AUTHOR'S NOTE | ayyoo, so i had an idea for a series with ghost with lots of angst and i finally wrote the first chapter. so let me know if you like it and if i should continue. it looks like it will be around 10 or so chapters. its a slow burn and will be a lil dark. okay, enjoy! feedback appreciated!

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you adjusted the strap to your med bag, shuffling as quickly as you could down the hallway, dodging tipped over medical trays and beds shoved haphazardly in the aisle. the lights above you flickered as you scurried in the direction of the hollering voices, the rumble of gunfire shooting off in the distance like fireworks.

you burst into what you suspected was once the hospital's lobby, debris and paper scattered everywhere, jumping over chunks of stone from the wall.

“sergeant,” a deep voice called to you. you looked over at captain price and darted in his direction. before him sat a large body, a man who intimidated the fuck out of you. you were lucky you were strung out on adrenaline or you might have been too nervous to do your job properly.

“it’s ghost,” price said, his hand firmly placed on the man’s abdomen, a blood soaked cloth beneath it.

you slid down to your knees and chucked your med bag beside you and started digging around. “what happened?”

“got fuckin’ shot, the hells it look like,” the grumpy asshole, who should be a lot nicer to the woman saving his life, said.

you rolled your eyes and dug out a clean linen, replacing the one price was using. “hold,” you instructed him. normally you were a bit shy around the men, especially your superiors, but in moments of panic, you functioned at your best.

it didn’t take you long to disinfect and pry the bullet out of ghosts abdomen, taping the wound shut with medical glue and wrapping it in gauze. it took you all of 4 minutes. and you only thought about the fact that your hand was on ghost’s exposed skin a few times.

“and that’s why you’re the best,” price chuckled, slapping a hand on your shoulder.

you gave him a weak smile, wiping away the sweat that was forming on your forehead. the adrenaline was starting to subside, your nerves creeping up on you.

a loud shout and the sounds of rifles going off sounded in the distance. ghost and price glanced at each other. “go,” ghost urged.

price nodded before leaving you alone with ghost, who seemed more than upset over the fact that he was now dead weight. you wanted to tell him he was an asset to the team and they wanted him whole instead of trying to fight at half efficiency. but you figured he already knew as much.

you rubbed your hands on your pants before pointing at ghost. “you—uhm—got blood all over your mask.”

ghost grunted, trying to stand up.

“wait, let me help you.”

he ignored you, using the wall behind him to push up. stubborn bastard.

“ghost! if you rip out the perfectly good work i just did, i swear to god!”

he looked at you surprised, as if hearing you shout was the most startling thing in the world, and halted all movement until you slid beneath him and helped him stand. his arm rested across your shoulder as you stood in sync with him. you tried to ignore the burning sensation you got from the contact.

“didn’t know you could get that loud,” he mocked.

you squeezed your lips together; your mask that sat slouched around your neck suddenly felt suffocating.

as ghost leaned back against the wall, catching his breath, you put your hands nervously on your hips. “you should let me check…” you hesitated, pointing at your own face to let him know you wanted to see if he was bleeding under his mask.

“no,” he said sternly.

“ghost, i—“

“it’s not my blood. nothin’ to check, then.”

“nothin’ to check, then,” you repeated quietly, slightly irritated. you knew good and well that he was lying. he had no idea if it was his blood or someone else’s that soaked the white skull on his mask.

“what?” he asked, causing you to snap your eyes away. shit, you were staring.

“you ever let anyone see what’s under there?” you asked timidly, making it sound like he had something wildly inappropriate hidden beneath his mask.

“price,” he said chastely, clearly thinking there was a time and place for everything, and the battlefield was not said place.

“oh.” after a beat. “why?”

before ghost could retort, soap came storming in. “we gotta go.” he must have talked to price because he came rushing to ghost’s side to help him walk, already aware of the extent of ghost’s injuries.

you followed as the three of you hustled out of the decrepit hospital. another beautiful building lost to the brutality of warfare, you thought sullenly.

when you were safe on the humvee, you shifted your bag awkwardly on top of your lap, ghost’s large presence taking up almost all of your personal space. you tried not to think about the way your thighs touched his.

it made sense, ghost was hurt, so of course he’d sit next to the medic, but still, your heart raced rapidly in your chest as if he purposely chose to sit next to you for other reasons. you tried to shut your brain up by closing your eyes.

the vehicle went over a bump, sending you sliding against ghost’s side. “s-sorry,” you muttered, your eyes springing open, and you hurriedly pushed away from him.

he didn’t even look down at you, his eyes glued to whatever it was he was staring at straight ahead.

he was infuriatingly difficult to read. his eyes might have been expressive, but they only ever looked some various level of pissed off. but you knew there was more to him than that. you had seen the way he spoke to soap. there was a human beneath the artificial exterior that was ghost.

the road was seemingly filled with dips and crags because the back end of the vehicle kept bumping and shifting. you opened your legs slightly so you could hold on to the seat between them to prevent you from slamming into ghost and the soldier on the other side of you. 

ghost must have been annoyed at the way you continuously jostled around with every shift of the humvee because when the car rattled through a particularly big pothole, his muscled arm outstretched across your chest, stopping you from flying forward. 

you felt your face heat, utterly embarrassed. all these men around you were so much taller and properly built. you, on the other hand, stood a good foot below ghost, it was no wonder you were easy to slide around the vehicle. ghost was weighted in place by muscle. seat belts would have been a smart addition, you thought. 

it was in your nature to want to thank ghost, but when you spared a glance up at him, his head was shifted in the complete opposite direction. as the road transformed to smoother terrain, his arm fell back to his side as if nothing had happened. 

you wouldn’t lie, the fact that you were supposed to be the one caring for ghost, the bullet wound in his side and all, made you feel small and inferior when he had to hold you down. it probably hurt him to life his arm like that too, though he would never admit it. 

when you got back to base, you changed and showered before anyone could find you and drag you into doing something you didn’t want to do, stealing you away from your time to rest. and as if you willed it just from that thought, one of your teammates grabbed your shoulder as you walked passed the infirmary. 

“hey! can you cover for me? smith is out and i was supposed to have my dinner break an hour ago.”

your fellow medic looked at you with puppy dog eyes, playfully steepling their hands to beg. 

“fine,” you said with mock irritation. 

“ah, thanks! you’re a lifesaver.” you followed him into the dimly lit infirmary. “i was just about to rebandage the lieutenant up,” he said.

you froze. “wait, we got back an hour ago, why hasn’t he been rebandaged yet?”

your teammate glanced at you as he grabbed his things. “l.t. was busy debriefing with price. said that was more important.” he shrugged then hurried out of the room before you could say more. 

shit shit shit. 

no, this is fine. stop overreacting, you told yourself. you can handle facing ghost again. granted, the first time you were doped up on adrenaline. now, you weren’t so sure you’d be able to keep a steady hand. 

you never had any real issues with authority before. and you didn’t get this way around the captain. but something about ghost unsettled you. he was a cold-blooded killer after all. 

you knew that lots of the men here were technically killers, but there was a mythical aura around ghost. even the enemies knew to beware the man in the skull mask. once you see him, it’s too late, you’re already dead. 

and it didn’t help that ghost seemed to despise you. you’ve seen him get irritated at the others before–especially soap. but you’ve also seen him joke and act friendly too. just never with you. if you knew why, you’d change that thing about yourself. anything for peace. but you couldn’t wrap your mind around why he hated you. maybe he just hated medics? but he didn’t seem to mind any of the other medics on base; at least not that you saw. 

maybe he just didn’t like women. especially ones that thought they were macho enough to fight in the military. but that didn’t seem quite right either. 

god, you needed to stop overthinking everything.

regardless of ghost’s reasoning, you squeezed your hands as you grabbed a medical tray and rolled it over to ghost’s bed. 

you tried to disguise the gulp when you saw him, outstretched in bed, his tactical gear shed and scattered on the ground. boots on, but untied. his long sleeve shirt now tossed on the end of the bed, stained with blood–a t-shirt his only covering. his pants low on his hips as his shirt rode up from how he laid propped on the bed. his neck exposed from where his mask and shirt collar didn’t meet. 

oh my god, you were acting like a victorian man with the way your heart was suddenly racing at every little bit of exposed skin. 

you pried your eyes away and slid on a pair of latex gloves. 

you grabbed a disinfectant and turned to him, trying to conjure a polite smile. 

“look like you’re gonna be sick,” he grumbled. 

“i’m smiling. this is me happy,” you said back, the forced grin slipping away now that ghost called you out on it. 

you swore you almost heard him chuckle.

you tentatively reached out to the hem of his shirt and pushed it up to where the bloody bandage you put on earlier sat. 

you felt his eyes on you as you began working, removing the old bandage and cleaning his wound properly. you shifted back and forth between ghost and the tray table beside you, dabbing up the blood and gingerly washing the wound. 

after it was cleaned and you were struggling to keep your mind clear, you needed to do a small strip of stitches to keep the gash from widening. 

“i’m just going to go ahead and give you a few stitches,” you said quietly, avoiding the dark gaze of his eyes. you applied a numbing agent that you knew wouldn’t affect his skin deep enough to mask all the pain. you had to save the proper sedation and anesthetics for more serious injuries, always cautious to not run out of supplies while only getting provisions delivered on occasion. 

you got the suture kit out before you. eyeless needle ready in hand, you began to quickly slide the needle through his skin to close it up. ghost didn’t so much as flinch as you went to work. 

ghost had shifted his position slightly, his shirt riding up in the process and exposing the way his sweatpants hung low on his hips, the V of his lower abdomen coming into view. 

your cheeks felt hot as you tried to pretend you hadn’t noticed. 

“shit. take it easy, love,” ghost grunted. you hadn’t realized you were putting pressure on his wound as you stared at the hair that trailed up towards his navel, completely losing all train of thought.

“oh my god. i’m sorry,” you stuttered, wanting to hurry up and finish so you could get out of here. 

did he just call you love? your chest exploded with unwanted feelings. god damnit, you cursed to your-easily-seduced-self. stop being irrational, he’s british, they call everyone ‘love’.

you could feel ghost’s eyes burning holes through you, tempting you to lose the steadfast nature of your hands.

“nervous?” he asked in such a nonchalant way. 

you refrained from gulping as you secured the end of the suture. “n-no.”

“you’re a bloody soldier. there's no place for nerves.”

you felt your heart sink deep within your chest at his harsh words. ghost had noticed your nervous ticks, the way you were distracted around him. he might not have known that he was the source of your jitters, but he noticed nonetheless. and he clearly thought you were weak for acting like that. how had someone like you secured a job in the military? you wanted to tell him that you weren’t usually like this. that you were always good under pressure–it’s where you thrived. that you were quick on your feet and ready to risk it all to save your teammates. 

it wasn’t you being afraid. it was you being intimidated by his looming presence. wanting to please your lieutenant. wanting to get on his good side. but you didn’t know how. and it made it far more difficult when you began to notice your attraction to him. how were you supposed to act cool and collected in front of ghost when his piercing gaze sent goosebumps up your spine. or how his words made you lose all thought–stealing yours right from your mouth. 

and it didn’t help that he was a grumpy, negative, and an all around contentious bastard. you tried so hard to tell yourself that you weren’t attracted to him. he was just another soldier (a rude one at that). you didn’t even know what he looked like under his mask for fucks sake. 

when you finished up, placing a fresh bandage over your work, you threw your gloves in the bin and turned to him. “i’m sorry.” the words escaped you before you could stop them. you were seriously apologizing for being nervous? how was that going to make things any better? he was certainly going to think you were too soft for this line of work now. an anxious surgeon wasn’t the best attribute for your lieutenant to think you possessed. 

shocked by your own words, you turned to leave, stopping when you heard ghost mumble under his breath. “how the fuck did you manage to make it through combat training?” 

you tried your damndest to reign in your tears before you made it to your room.

chapter 2 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

[yelspyder]

Hey! I was wondering if you could maybe do a Gwen x female (or gender neutral) reader’s first kiss? They’re not officially dating but they both have rather clear feelings for each other. Gwen maybe saves reader from a petty street crime and they share the iconic Spiderman kiss. The reader doesn’t blatantly know that Gwen is Spiderwoman, but they have a gut feeling, as Gwen also has a gut feeling they may already know.

˚‧⁺.-"Kiss me again - he says, drunk and foolish - Kiss me until I am sick of it"

↳ summary: basically, spiderman iconic kiss with Gwen

↳ characters: Gwen Stacy

↳ Gn! Reader

↳ notes: I would with fem reader, but nothing in that work would make that fact explicit, so I titled it gn (which can also be seen as fem), hope you don't mind.

Gwen's heart fluttered when she saw you being mugged. No way was she going to let you get hurt. You were too important to her.

You were paralyzed. Being mugged in a desert street in the big city was not something you used to do, of course you would be scared. The gun was pointed at your face while the thug stared at you with a scary look while another man, presumably his henchman, looked you up and down with a smirk you thought could swallow you whole. And a third man watching the surroundings, ready to warn the others at any sign of the police. The man who had the gun pointed at you looked like some kind of bodyguard for some rich rapper who performs in bars every Friday: gold teeth, tattoos, piercings and such.

Gwen was having a snack until she saw you being mugged in a nearby deserted street. She didn't let herself think long before quickly stepping in and jumping next to the bandits. When she realized that she didn't even bother to put the mask on before jumping in front of you, it was too late to go back and get it, she would have to do it quickly so that no one saw her face.

She was grateful for the darkness of the street when got into a quick melee and threw the thugs away in a dumpster in front of a building, knocking them unconscious. Before you could even process it properly and go after her to thank her, she'd ducked into a nearby alley as quickly as she'd appeared to save you.

You wasted no time in following her, but were disappointed when you couldn't find her. A little frustrated, you turned to resume your walk home, to find the spiderwoman hanging upside down in front of you.

She cleared her throat before speaking in an unnaturally deep voice. "Are you all right, dear citizen?"

You jumped a little in surprise when you saw her before speaking. You really didn't expect her to come back to check on you after saving you. After recovering from the surprise, you started talking. "Uh...-? Of course, I'm fine thanks to you. We've been seeing each other a lot these past few days, you made a point of helping me just across the street this weekend. Do I have a superhero stalker?"

Unknown to you, Gwen smiled beneath her mask and replied in a confident tone. "I was in the neighborhood."

You smiled and took a moment to sigh and admire the figure hanging in front of you. "You're amazing."

"Some people don't think so." She just shook her head and spoke, again using her unnatural low voice.

You didn't say anything, just held your hands out until they hovered over the top of the mask around her neck. "...What?" She asked with a tone of doubt, but without making the slightest effort to stop you.

You withdrew your hands a little, until it took you a while to resume your action. You slowly extended your hands until they hovered over the top of her mask around her neck again upon seeing the, as yet unknown to you, blonde's non-existent attempts to stop you. Still slowly, you pulled your mask up to her nose, to see a strangely familiar gap between the teeth in the superheroine's half opened mouth, and rested your hands on her cheeks.

Without much delay, you kissed her.

She felt herself magically melting into your kiss. Her heart was beating too fast, and her cheeks were burning. At this point, she was thanking whatever god there was that part of her cheeks was still covered, so you wouldn't see the blushing mess you made of her. If the kiss wasn't enough, she was now all too aware of your soft hands resting on her cheeks. She found herself having to resist the urge to relax against your touch right there. She felt in heaven, kissing her crush did wonders for her. The looks exchanged, and the laughter shared during the common lessons at school seemed a distant delusion in her mind now. All that mattered was that she was kissing her crush at this very moment.

The poor girl wanted this moment to last forever, but the need to breathe soon came and you had to part ways. As soon as you pulled away, she saw your breathless appearance and flushed cheeks, and smiled when you adjusted her mask correctly.

"So, my favorite citizen, wants me to walk you home?"

#across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #gwen stacy #atsv #atsv x y/n #atsv x you #gwen spiderverse #gwen stacy x reader #spider gwen #gwen x reader #atsv gwen #ghost spider #atsv miguel #atsv miles #atsv pavitr #atsv hobie #atsv headcanons #atsv peter b parker

[politemenacephd]

Movie night (+18)

Miguel O'Hara X Insecure!Reader (GN)

Content: Fluffy comfort, Praise kink, Heavy petting, Dry humping, Penetrative sex.

Word count: 1,568

‘Hey, Mig! Mig!’

‘Uh—uhuh?’ Miguel yawned into the back of his hand as you glared up at him from the left side of the sofa. His laid-back approach to your furious, scrunched up expression was aggravatingly adorable.

‘Miguel!’

You hissed his name and simultaneously patted his bicep numerous times, lightly slapping his thick muscles until he finished yawning.

‘Yes, I’m listening! I said I was listening, didn’t I?’ he said between chuckles. You huffed.

Your body was snuggled in against his side on your old couch, with your legs tucked up beneath you and his legs splayed out over the coffee table. One of your arms was rope around his waist while the other was awkwardly hunched against his side; it’d gone to sleep about half an hour ago, but you were too comfortable to move.

Your living room was bathed in total darkness, spare for the bright orange glow of the screen up front. It was supposed to be the perfect evening in: matching oversized shirts and sweats, with a heavy blanket over your legs and snacks on the table. Your TV was even blaring your favourite film, but Miguel wasn’t paying attention.

‘You promised you’d watch it properly!’ you whispered.

Miguel sniffed in response. His eyes were fixed on you, his lips tilted into a sleepy smile. It was strange to see him so relaxed.

‘Mhm. I am. I’m paying attention.’

‘Are you?’

‘Mhm. I’m paying close attention.’ Miguel absently started to play with your hair as he spoke, which rather undermined his point. You blew on his hand to push him off but it only seemed to endear him further. His eyes wrinkled as he grinned at your petulant face.

‘Then what just happened?’ you asked, trying to catch him out instead.

‘What?’

‘In the film!’ you said whilst grabbing the remote from your lap. You paused the film and then poked him with the same remote. ‘What just happened in the film?’

Miguel awkwardly shrugged and slyly took the remote back, throwing it over to his other hand so you couldn’t reach it again. ‘Something happened, for sure. Something definitely happened’ he teased, and with the remote held just out of reach for your scrabbling hands he switched it back on.

‘So you’re not paying attention!’ you said. Miguel kept his smile.

‘I said I was paying attention, I didn’t say to the film. I meant I was paying attention to you.’

You felt heat building in your cheeks as his eyes darted across your face. His usually cold, exhausted eyes were so soft on you; even now you could see the dark circles, the exhaustion from working so hard, but on you they looked so round and curious.

‘You—big, stupid man’ you grumbled. His chuckled vibrated through his hefty chest, a sound strong enough to shake your head.

‘What? What’s wrong? Not like you to be so mean.’

You could feel his eyes roaming now. His hand, once lazily draped around your waist, was starting to press against your oversized shirt in search of your flesh. You felt the heart rising and shuffled.

‘Come on, the—the film, it’s—still going’ you whined. ‘Focus.’

‘I’m sure it’s great, mi amor, but it’s not you’ he repeated softly. You shuffled harder.

‘Mm—Mig.’

‘Uhuh?’

He leaned in, expecting you to continue with either a question or a rebuttal, but he got nothing. You shyly avoided his gaze. He noticed, then, that you were subtly shifting the blanket higher.

‘Oh, mi amor. You—come here, you.’

You squeaked as he easily lifted your entire body into his arms. His strength was unfounded, and he made you look weightless as he gently settled you down on his lap. Your legs were splayed out on either side of his hips, with your face in his pecs and your hands on his abs.

He put one hand on your lower back, shifting it beneath the shirt, and tilted your chin with the other.

Those big red eyes gleamed as your favourite film continued to blare on in the background. It was quickly becoming white noise as your heart thundered.

‘Mig, come on’ you said. He could feel the tension in your body.

‘Can’t I look at you, mi amor?’ he asked. You felt his fingers teasing, brushing, his eyes drooping with a perverse fixation. You felt the heat getting stronger.

‘Mm—You know, that—It, I feel, weird. I don’t know’ you whispered awkwardly. As you squirmed Miguel put his finger to your cheek, gently stroking it from side to side.

‘If you’re uncomfortable, like really uncomfortable, I will put you down’ Miguel insisted, right before pressing his lips to your forehead. ‘But I really want to see you. I mean it.’

You shuffled again as the TV continued to blare into the silence. You felt your little heart flutter. You were worried what he might say, or do, replaying the worst possible scenarios in your head, but beneath his calm and insistent gaze you felt that niggling self-doubt begin to wane.

‘It—okay, sure. If you really want to’ you said at last. Miguel went to grin but bit it back into a normal, patient smile so as not to scare you with his excitement.

‘Thank you, mi tesoro, thank you, thank you. Mm—come on, come here.’

Miguel’s hands slid up your bare back, gently coaxing your shirt aside. You were burning up as you raised your arms and allowed him to shift it up and over your head.

He threw it aside without care and returned his eyes to your bare upper torso. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, really, but it certainly wasn’t this.

The heavy breath that practically steamed in the air, heavy as his eyelids as they drooped and narrowed. He breathed in deep like a man looking at his last meal.

‘Let me look at you, please.’

His hands slowly shifted back to your waist. You felt the brush of his fingers and shivered. He started at your neck, cupping your face with both palms before smoothly sliding them down to your shoulders and chest.

‘Mi amor’ he whispered. You felt the slow rush of goosebumps up your arms.

With a grunt his hands came down, tenderly squeezing your waist and belly in his palms. You tensed up instinctively. He knew which bits you were most embarrassed about, and he showed them all the love in the world.

‘Pretty, pretty little thing’ he breathed. The heat in your cheeks had grown to the point that it itched, with his hands eagerly squishing and massaging every part of you he could get at. His fingers pressed on your hips while his thumb ran up and down your waist, feeling the soft fat give way to his touch.

‘So- fucking pretty’ he repeated.

It was then that your body jolted as a short, throbbing shock hit your inner thighs. You looked down on instinct and immediately squeaked; he was already rock hard, and his shaft was now gently nudging at your sweats. You could see a wet patch of precum forming on the fabric.

‘You—aha, t-that fast huh?’ you said with a laugh. Your attempt at humour was sorely spoiled, then, when his hands squeezed your hips with furious intent, and he began to grind your half-naked body down against his bulge. Your shy smile fell apart into a shocked but pleasantly surprised moan.

‘A-Ah—M-Mig—’

‘You see how much I like you, mi amor?’ Miguel practically purred in your ear. His voice was dripping with desperation, a sentiment shared by the frantic bucking of his hips. You shuddered as one of his hands went up to your chest.

‘You see how much I want you? You see how crazy you make me?’

‘I-I got, it I got it’ you stammered back. At this point you were being thrown so hard by his frantic grinds that each word you said was half-muffled. His sweatpants left nothing to the imagination, especially since he hadn’t even bothered to wear boxers beneath them; the fabric let you feel every curve, every vein, every contour as his shaft nudged at you.

‘Do you?’ he teased breathlessly. With a smug smile he leaned back into the couch cushions, allowing him a full view of your body on top. You burned up under his gaze, especially as you were now being bucked and bounced on his cock.

‘Oh, there you are’ he sighed dreamily, ‘there’s my baby. There you are.’

At this point, he’d got you. Your insides were clenching with an unbearably, unscratchable itch to be touched, to be his, and you didn’t care what you looked like anymore. You started to grind back on him.

‘Oh—that’s it, that’s it. Perfect. You’re doing—such a good job, fuck—’

He threw his head back once as you rode his shaft just to groan, but he quickly returned to eyeing you up. You relished in his fingers as they squeezed around to grab your ass, his palm fondling the weight as he spread and bounced it a little.

‘So much—better than anything else’ he groaned. You were practically mewling at this point.

‘Fucking perfect’ he moaned.

From there no words were needed. The heat was palpable between you both, a kind of urgency that felt physically tangible in the air. You awkwardly shuffled your sweatpants down as he did the same, and without saying a single thing you practically fell onto his thick shaft.

You groaned as it slid into your tight hole, relishing the first pulse as it rippled through to your very soul. You saw him bite his lip until it bled just to suppress whatever filthy words he wanted to yell.

‘MMM—Mmm, mm—’ his muffled grunts were all you could hear as he started to pump, and his eyes were all you could see. You could tell he wanted to close his eyes, that impulse need to roll them back and pant as he felt you squeezing the life out of his cock with those soft, gummy walls, but he refused. He just wanted to watch.

‘Yeah… yeah that’s it’ he said, the only thing he could manage before he started to move you. He leant back so he could watch his hips move between your thighs, and god did he love those thighs. You felt his thick, calloused fingers squish until the fat bulged between them, and the resulting throb from his cock was all the proof you needed of how much he enjoyed that view.

You shyly tried to close your eyes but he pinched you as punishment, forcing them back open. He stared right back with nothing but adoration in his eyes.

‘Fucking perfect’ he repeated between thrusts. ‘Fucking—perfect.’

Your lip quivered as you fought the urge to scream. You were already soaking from his soft affirmations, and he loved that. He used his thumb to shift thighs a little further apart, eager to watch his shaft slowly pumping in and out. He felt that wet squelch fulfilling something utterly primal in him.

‘Perfect’ he repeated. ‘Perfect. Perfect. Now, let me show you how much I really love looking at you.’

He kept that promise, as by the time you were done, your favourite film that you’d been so insistent about that ended without either of you paying any attention at all.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #spider man 2099 #smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fluff #gn reader #+18 #insecure reader

[dropofdrool]

Sweet Dreams, TN - Alex Turner x Reader

Summary: during a troubled night, our girl finds comfort in Alex having a wet dream.

Warnings: mature content (read responsibly), fem!reader, masturbation - m receiving, Alex is asleep

Word count: 3.1 k

!! I really want to thank @rentskenobi for the amazing and accurate work of review she's done over this fic, girl I wouldn't have made it without you<3

~☀︎︎~

Two hours passed since her eyes had suddenly opened in the middle of the night. After that, she hadn't been able to fall asleep again. Unfortunately, she didn’t remember having had any dream. Oh, she did wish a nightmare had woken her up! All she wanted to do was cry, shake off that numbness that anchored her to the bed. 

It was impossible for her to close her eyes, so she got used to the dim lighting around her. Even though the room was plunged in the night, it now appeared her no longer hidden by the dear nebulous darkness that confuses the mind and numbs the senses, but quivering, waiting to awaken. 

Her ears were ringing, oversensitive because of the silence: even the slightest noise seemed to her like a roar that rumbled in her mind. She just wanted to shelter under the covers, shield herself from that hostile environment and hide next to her little Alex, peacefully asleep by her side. 

It was unusual that she managed to see him asleep, since he often slipped into bed much later than her. If she wasn’t already in the land of dreams, she’d wait for him, to make love or cuddle until they fell asleep. Besides, he rarely woke her up during the night, as they both enjoyed a deep sleep. They were perfectly capable of going to bed at any time, but once asleep, it was really difficult to get them up. They had spent countless mornings in each other's arms, since neither had managed to drag the other out of bed.

Though she loved having his full attention in bed, she had always been tickled by the fantasy of seeing him fully asleep by her side. The fleeting moments when she caught him taking a nap on the sofa, surrounded by sheets with sketched lyrics or work-in-progress tracks weren't enough. She wanted to admire him properly as he lay on their bed, with his face pressed into the pillow and his body immersed in the sinuous folds of the duvet.

Just how he looked at the moment: Alex lay next to her like a kitten. His usually sharp face was now softened by the sleep, and a light snoring came from his half-closed mouth. She wished she could just bask in the sight of him, but she was feeling too bad. Since she’d fallen asleep above the covers, she didn't have the courage to slip under them and risk waking Alex up.

She put her whole self in trying to cry, longing for that sweet release. However, the tears were feeling too precious to come out and they left her only with a heaviness in her heart that she'd never felt before.

She tried to calm her breathing, and got the idea of synchronising it with Alex's deep and regular one. 

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

Luckily, he’d fallen asleep facing her. She turned to look at him, searching for comfort in his blissful features. She longed to get closer to him, to lose herself between his warm chest and strong arms, always ready to reassure her when a nightmare of hers would wake both of them up.

Since she couldn’t touch him, she tried to better receive all the other signals his body gave her. The warmth it radiated even from a distance, his small noises and trademark smell.

Now she’d been breathing deeply, her nostrils were filled with his unique fragrance: during the night, his usual aroma of cigarettes and cologne partially vanished, leaving place to the hot scent of pure male skin, barely sweetened by the body wash from the shower he’d had before bed. The scent of him, that had her head spinning when, during sex, she’d bury her face in his shoulder and there was only him, filling all her senses.

She slowly started to calm down. Her breathing took on a new rhythm of its own, and the screeching that had been harassing her mind died away. 

As if he'd realised his comfort was no longer needed, Alex rolled onto his back, facing the ceiling. 

The glimmer of moonlight slipping out from the curtains kissed his profile, highlighting his sharp nose delightfully. The impulse of kissing it grew stronger, but she tamed it.

That new position exposed his body in a whole different way. Now, she was able to see how his movement had undone some buttons on the thin, soft shirt he was wearing, letting a nipple slip out. That was a very sensitive part of Alex's body she never missed to stimulate as they had sex, teasing it with her palms or squeezing it between her fingers, as he used to do with hers. 

Alex moved again. His right hand, which had been resting on his stomach, ended up between his legs, over his cock. She raised her eyebrows. 

She knew very well that was a common action for both men and women, meant not so much for pleasure as for the comfort that protecting that sensitive area gave. However, she’d rarely seen Alex doing such a spontaneous gesture.

At first still, the hand on his crotch slowly began to move. A gentle massage, continuous and slow-paced. 

Her mind, now appeased but still cold from the just ended bad experience, didn't relate those movements to anything sexual yet. They were just basic, primitive masculine reflexes.

She thought that maybe, it was time to try and sleep. She turned her back to Alex and closed her eyes, but just as the sweet embrace of half-sleep began to envelop her, she felt the motion beside her increase, as if Alex were squirming. 

She didn’t pay attention to it at first, but after a while a not so weak mumble joined his wriggling. 

Her heart stopped in her throat.

Let’s calm down. It’s normal to make some noise in your sleep. Maybe he’s dreaming of talking to someone.

Oh, she did want to believe it. However, after a while it was clear he wasn’t just gasping in his sleep. 

She finally decided to turn around. In front of her, she found a very different-looking Alex than how she’d left him. He still had his eyes closed and his hand on his cock, but it was clear that something was getting him so heated. 

Alex swayed like the calm morning sea, arching his back slightly along with his neck, which he tilted back exposing his prominent Adam's apple. 

She sat up and ran her eyes over his whole body, marvelling at how his subconscious could elicit such delicious reactions. 

His movements, though they'd managed to get her attention, were still relatively small. 

Toes curling into the sheets, hips swaying just like they did as he played guitar on stage. 

He’d told her it was something he couldn’t control, that made him lose himself in the music and had him able to feel it within himself, so as to reproduce it better with the instrument.

Curious how his body reacts the same way to music and sexual frustration.

But if those hips movements on stage were the cause of so much screaming and clamour amongst the audience, his now intimate wriggling was a gift only to her, and the night that hid them.

Nonetheless, even then Alex sang. His whines and now proper moans were like music to her ears, careful to catch even the slightest sigh that left his luscious mouth. 

It was obvious: Alex was having a wet dream. 

Though this exited her, it made her a little unsure. She knew very well how much Alex loved her and she’d never had any reason to question that. However, even as his girlfriend, she still couldn’t believe that it was her who aroused him like that even in his subconscious.

Come on, Alex is almost always in my wet dreams, he is my boyfriend after all. Why shouldn't he be dreaming of me too?

However, besides her dreams about Alex, she’d have others sometimes where her fantasies came to life thanks to faceless men or women, when her own pleasure was the absolute focus. 

Maybe it was the same way for him. Unfortunately, they had discussed the topic focusing much more on her than on him, since several times Alex had happened to catch her right in the middle of wet dreams. 

In those cases, he had tried out a little game that turned out to be extremely exciting for both.  

Gently, he liked to guide her through her dream, trying not to wake her up thanks to little, special touches. 

She perceived it as a proof of his absolute dedication to her sole pleasure, since he had to tame all the desire for more he drew from touching her, so as not to wake her up. 

He had turned out to be very good at this. Most of the time, she’d wake up by herself some time later, wet between her legs and pleasantly satisfied. 

Sometimes, however, the intensity of the dream was too much and she’d wake up directly under Alex’s eyes, intent on touching her. Then, he’d waste no time and go down on her to finish the job, careful not to overstimulate her. 

How nice it would be if, this time, it was me who gave him that little treat.

As if he’d read her thoughts, Alex let out a low moan. She nearly echoed him, covering her mouth in time as she squeezed her thighs, already pooling with moisture.

The hand that had been previously stroking his cock from over his boxers slipped inside them.

His lips parted in a small, sincere smile. 

A sweet curve of his mouth, caused by the sheer pleasure he was feeling, along with the furrow of his brow and the arching of his body. 

Tears of excitement filled her eyes, and she sank her face into the pillow in order to calm down. This man is just too much. When she recovered, she finally decided to touch him.

She started with light, experimental touches on the back of his neck. She scratched it with the very tips of her fingernails, and he mumbled as goosebumps covered his body. 

His other nipple showed up from under his shirt. By now, all the ridiculous buttons that closed his neckline had popped open, revealing his heaving chest.

Such a tempting sight, he might deserve a little love there too. She licked her fingers and began rubbing his nipple with small, circular movements.

She feared she’d already woken him up and he wanted to shoo her hand away, as he raised his hand towards hers. Luckily, it just ended up clutching the pillow. They sighed together, one with pleasure and the other with relief.

She went on with that caress for a while: the work he was doing on his own already seemed good to her, his hips moving against his hand faster and faster.

Maybe it's time to join him inside his underwear. She traced a line down his soft body with her fingers, barely pressing on the firmest spots like his abs, until she reached down between his legs. How to help him there too? His hand wasn’t actually pumping his cock, it was more of a massage. She placed her hand over his, careful not to apply too much pressure, and began to guide his movements. Luckily, she didn't need to press: Alex's subconscious let her take the lead.

Look at him, melting just like butter. He quickly wet her hand as she palmed him and, looking at his face, she noticed a small tear of pleasure sliding down his cheek. She wanted to kiss it away, but she just wiped it away with a caress. Then, he wrinkled his nose: a strand of rebellious hair had fallen over his face, tickling him. She tucked it away before he could sneeze. 

She couldn’t help but get lost in his perfect, relaxed features as she looked at him.

Alex moaned loudly as she stroked his jawline and plump, velvety lips. She cried along with him, knowing how sensitive his mouth was. As that noise escaped his lips, he titled his chin back. She took it between her thumb and index finger and nudged it back gently, to display his fair and tempting neck. As she touched him there, she felt his pulse increase with his approaching orgasm.

His moans got even more desperate, it was clear he needed to come. 

She needed him to come too, as if her own relief depended on his orgasm, since she was sweating and moaning and squeezing her thighs just like him.

Now more than ever she wanted to touch all of him, squeeze that smooth flesh, so soft yet firm, cover him with her body as he came and lick off the sweat that beaded him.

He is so wet, I wonder if I could… 

She reached out her middle finger just enough to tease his butthole, managing to slip there easily thanks to the moisture that had dripped down his perineum. 

His entire face scrunched in pleasure, but no sound came out of his agape mouth except for a ragged breath. He exploded on their hand in a few big spurts. 

As he came, a few moans escaped his lips again. Amongst them, she thought she heard something similar to a word, which gradually became clearer.

She properly moaned as she realised it was her name.

From the way his body tensed and then relaxed, she almost feared he would wake up. Now that he was very sensitive, she tried to guide him through his post-orgasm with delicacy. She listened to his breathing slow down again, thanking the heavens he had been able to enjoy that experience while still being in the land of dreams, with only a little helper from Earth.

She took her hand out of his boxers, licking it clean. Now completely relaxed and even a bit tired, she lay back, just waiting for him to wake up and see the evidence of that night.

~☀︎︎~

As soon as he woke up, Alex immediately felt in his underwear what happened.

The memory of his dream was still fresh in his mind and, although the details began to fade rapidly, what didn't go away were the sensations, the pleasure he remembered having felt. The desire to go back into that dream was almost childish, since he had his beautiful girlfriend right there beside him, ready to do even better for him.

He felt a little ashamed for wetting his underpants just like a little boy.

It wasn’t unusual for him to have wet dreams, but rarely, except for when he was younger, had he ever managed to come during one of them.

Alex really wanted to wait for his love to wake up, but he also needed to get that sticky feeling off himself. 

He got out of bed and slipped into the bathroom. In the warm steam of the shower, he thought back to his dream. The face of the woman who’d given him so much pleasure wasn't clear in his mind, but he was sure she was his darling. The way she moved, knew his body by heart and her voice, that guided him through it all, were unmistakable.

As he watched the water drag the sperm away from his body, he almost thought of touching himself in the intimacy of the shower, being conscious this time. It was something that still comforted him, the familiar rhythm of his own hand guided only by his fantasies. However, he gave up. She was right in the next room and would wake up soon, he wanted to be ready for her in case she was taken by a morning desire.

That turned out to be right the case, since as he left the bathroom, covered only by a towel around his waist, he found her waiting for him, fully awake and propped up on her elbows.

"Good morning, love!" she uttered brightly. Alex dropped the towel and crawled back to her on their bed. She scratched him behind the ear, just as you would with a kitten, and he purred in the most delicious way.

"’Morning to yeh too, babeh..."

She opened her arms, inviting him, and he hurried to snuggle against her chest, enjoying the feel of his bare skin against her soft shirt.

“Tell me Alex, why would you need a shower this early in the morning?”

Alex looked at her with his big, brown eyes. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to tell her the truth. However, her calm, reassuring gaze convinced him.

“I ‘ad a dream. A wet dream.”

She smiled, with a mischievous gleam in her eye that got Alex curious. Did she hear me by any chance? 

“Lovely. Was it good?”

“Oh yesss.” he hissed, dragging out the word. He closed his eyes, calling to mind the last few scraps of the dream he hadn’t forgotten yet.

She lulled him, pleased with his sleepiness.

"Did you come?" she asked. He looked at her again and smirked, asserting his response. She giggled.

"I can imagine. You were squirming so much…”

Alex leapt up quickly, facing her.

"Did I wake yeh up?!"

“Not at all, darling. Actually, I was having a terrible night. I’d woken up all of sudden a couple of hours earlier and just couldn't get back to sleep. Everything felt like it were pulsing and every noise just seemed soo loud, I just wanted to cry but not even the tears wanted to help me. It was awful… good thing you were there. You, who managed to calm me down only with your breathing. Just when I was about to go back to sleep, I heard you make some noises. Such sweet noises… I couldn't believe it. For a while I hadn’t been able to do anything but look at you, you were so beautiful. Then, I remembered how many times you’ve blessed my wet dreams, so I thought I could return the favour.”

He groaned.

“Honey, I can't say I remember well what ‘appened, but from tha' little I do… it were so good. Thank yeh so much."

“I thank you, Alex! You were so hot I was about to cry… please tell me if I catch you having a wet dream one more time, I can help you again.”

In response, Alex kissed her hard. 

“Love, yeh can do everyfing yeh want to me. I'm all yehrs." 

He flipped their position, so that she was on top of him. 

“But now, let's make those sweet dreams come true, shall weh?”

~☀︎︎~

#alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fanfic #alex turner imagine #sleep #bad night #fantasies

[matenrou-fan]

Could I request Lucifer going down to his fem darling or cockwarming with Lucifer? Feel free to ignore

Lucifer going down to his fem! s/o

I think I got a little bit wild with this one..💀

Femreader, domLucifer, a lot of teasing, begging, mention of sex toys and double penetration; bondage;;

-Oh.. You should be prepared, honey.

-Cause Lucifer is not only a pro in it, but also a great lover of teasing.

-Starting so slow and passionate, deep long licks and hot kisses as he helps you to warm up and have some pleasure, but when your voice starts to get more whiny, when your body starts asking for more, uh oh, you won't get it.

-He's always in charge, always controlling, and in the bedroom too. So he loves to play with you by his rules.

-And one of his rules is to beg. To beg nice and good, so he will have some time to enjoy your shaky voice.

"Say it louder.." - he sounds so calm and playful, as always, but you can hear some dominating undertones in his voice - "I want to hear clearly what you want me to do, or I will stop, darling."

-He just can't get enough of this amusing expression of yours, cloudy eyes half closed, beautiful shade of pink on your cheeks, mouth trembling as you try to ask him for more with this sweet squeaky voice.

-In the beginning, just some little praise is enough. Luci will continue, finally speeding up a little, enjoying more of your loud shameful moans as his tongue works so well, abusing all your sweet spots at just perfect pace.

-But now the real game starts, as he will bring you to the edge, almost to the climax where you can't think about anything else but your pulsing heated core that it's about to explode… just for him to suddenly stop, as he doesn't touch you absolutely, only hands firmly grasping your thighs so you can't squirm around.

-The way your voice sounds so disappointed and needy, this desperate look that you give him as you whine and struggle, trying to get just a little friction, just a little bit, you are so close.. Ah, for him it's just so cute, Luci can't help but chuckle.

"Mm? What's wrong, darling? Don't you think you should say something?" - he smirks even more smuggy than usual, admiring this embarrassed face of yours - "Maybe a magic word…"

-This time you need to beg more, pleading him to touch you again, to finally let you cum.. Your broken cry is just the most wonderful music to this teasing demon.

-He will repeat this thing several times, until you can't even talk, just sobbing and whining in his arms, your folds so so wet from a mix of your juices and his saliva but you still didn't cum, not even once. Your clit is so oversensitive now, his hot breath on your pussy is enough to send shivers down your spine.

-Only now, when you are so shaky and tense, when Luci can't see anything but pathetic need in your eyes, an unreleased urge to finally feel more and more of his tongue and fingers.. Only now he will do it properly, sucking you hard and massaging your sensitive spot deep inside you with his fingertips.

-Well, maybe he was teasing you (if not torturing) for so long but you came so hard and good this time, almost seeing stars under you shut eyes.

-And Lucifer really adores this, his dark red eyes glowing as he admires how you arch your back, grabbing sheets around you with shaking hands, your fingers almost red from strong grasp.. He can see how you roll your eyes, throw your head back, loud long moans fill the room for a few moments as you cum in his mouth.

-Of course he will lick it all, tasting your delicious juices. How can he not when you cum for him so well?

"Your taste.. it's sweeter than honey, and more intoxicating than the most aged Demonus can ever be.." - Lucifer whispers with a voluptuous smile on his lips as he slowly stroking your folds, his lips on your clit as he kisses it gently - "I think I will be addicted soon.."

-He loves when you also get down to him after he pleases you, but sometimes he himself gets so horny during these little foreplays, so he can't help but immediately get on top of you, hungry eyes on your body as you can hear how he unzips his pants.

"Are you ready for the main act, little star?" - he kisses you passionately and sloppily as his hands grab your hips and lift them closer to his crotch. - "I prepared you really well today.."

-Also.. someone said sex toys? Cause Lucifer is in.

-He's pretty kinky so he has a small collection, and loves to use them as they help him to tease you even more. It's just so cute, you can't control your weak voice when he pushes the vibrator inside you, fingers playing with the remote.

"We just started and you are so whiny already.." - he shook his head and pressed a button so speed increased a little now - "Does this little toy make you feel that good? Tell me, darling.."

-If you don't mind then he will be more than glad to use two toys and once, stimulating not only your cunt but ass too now. He's just curious how long you will last under heavy attacks of his tongue and two dildos, as he can clearly hear how rapid your breath is and see how you curl your toes, almost reaching another orgasm.

-Well if we start talking about all that stuff then I should mention that tying you up is also one of his favorite things. Especially if Lucifer wants to tease and play with you for a while longer.

-Even the process itself is so intimate for him, as he gently strokes your body, wrapping ropes around naked hot skin. Every tight rope makes a wave of goosebumps run on your skin as he slowly immobile you.

-Kisses you from your neck to your trembling chest, checking all knots if they are hurting you or not, then slowly get closer to your stomach, hips and already wet womanhood.

"Mm, now it's hard to hide from my touches, darling?" - he smirks, watching as you try to squirm around when he starts massaging your clit with the tip of his finger. You whimper, all your insides twitching and tingling as you struggle back and forth in vain.

-Lucifer is too good in bondage so be ready for some long teases, as he scolds you in a calm but mocking tone about how you are still being so disobedient as you are trying to move from his passionate tongue and fingers.

-Risky places? Well, it depends.

-Never will do this in RAD or if you get the opportunity to stay for a night in Demon Lord's Castle, but in his office when you clearly can hear some of his brothers walking around in the corridor? Absolutely.

"If you will be a good quiet girl, everything will be fine.." - he whispers right in your ear in such a sweet seducing tone as his hand finds its way under your skirt. Few moments and you're already starting to get wet as his fingers caress your folds so well through the thin fabric of your panties..

-Will do it right on table, moving all paperwork away as now he has a much more interesting business between your legs.

-If he just really needs himself and wants it to be quick, then you are lucky, as he will just licking all your juices at a rapid pace, so so thirsty.. But you reach your orgasm so fast, squeezing his head with your thighs as you try to hold back your moans.

-But if he is in a mischievous mood.. It's even worse than usual, as Lucifer wants to see how embarrassed you would be, trying to hide your whines from everyone in the house.

"Sh.. Don't you want somebody to hear us?" - he clicks his tongue with such mocking gaze when you grasp the table corner with a shaking arm and accidentally drops his pen holder on the floor - "Or you actually want them to come in and see how good I make you feel? What a naughty girl you are, s/o.."

-"But don't worry. I will take care of you and your little dirty needs, so be obedient and just spread these pretty legs for me and enjoy my game.."

#obey me lucifer x mc #obey me luci x reader #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me #obey me x you #obey me smut #obey me x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer smut #lucifer obey me smut

[synthetickitsune]

Like Oxygen ✧ x.mh

Pairing: Xu Minghao x reader Genre: angst, comfort Summary: Sometimes there are so many thoughts in your head you forget about the wonders of life. And sometimes life is so hard you forget how to breathe. Word count: 1.5k Warnings: depression, self-destructive tendencies

"I don't know if you're doing this on purpose or not but it feels like revenge."

Minghao's voice is that faux cold of feigned disinterest that he uses to hide his vulnerability.

Because it was supposed to be revenge, you think, it was revenge until it wasn't.

You don't acknowledge his words, let them hang in the heavy air of the dark bedroom. You screw your eyes shut so tightly you see white and try to imagine the quiet, tiny, hurt, sigh that leaves Hao's lips and that he tries to hide doesn't feel like a punch to the gut.

There's a limit to the strain you can put on the relationship before it gets irreparably damaged or breaks. When a person is as sensitive as Minghao is, it's hard to say whether the point is further away or closer than you thought. You know he'll try to understand and think deeper than simply believing you are ignoring him for the sake of upsetting him. Then again, him saying this, and in this way too, is a warning sign. A pretty bright, flashing, neon-colored one.

You suppose something did snap inside you after that fight. Well, a bit after that. At first you did indeed mean to give him the cold shoulder, because you were petty and, yeah, some things he said cut a bit too deep even if they were true. Then again, you were working through them. Until life happened, and work got busy, and you had to do overtime day after day and started coming home late and all you managed to do was wash up before falling asleep. Everything got kind of thrown out of the window then.

Maybe it's best if you keep ignoring him. Maybe if you're distant for long enough, it'll ruin things beyond repair and… well, it's not like you can find it in yourself to care right now. Maybe the pain would help you feel again. Maybe you just wanna feel like you’re right about something - even if it has to be Minghao inevitably leaving you because he deserves better. Maybe if you weren't already half asleep, you'd get to the point in the thought process where you'd realize how little sense that makes. Maybe.

Come morning, and the one after that and the one after that… you can’t even properly register your thoughts anymore. Everything just drags on for eternity and you feel yourself spiraling into lethargy that is only broken by a stabbing pain in your chest each time you see Minghao. Some part of you wants to spit his words right into his face, some part of you understands, and much, much larger part of you wants to run to him and cling to him and beg for his love.

You know he’s not doing this on purpose. You know he’s also busy. You know he’s, most of all, just trying to protect himself. It hurts nonetheless, more so because you know it’s you who he’s raising his defenses against.

But you need him.

You need him more than ever because this is hard and it’s too much, and you feel like weight just keeps getting added onto your shoulders, and yet you keep carrying it so it’s shattering you instead of breaking you at once. You need him but he’s so cold and far away and it feels like you’ve finally done it and he’s not gonna return. You will lose him and you’ll be right but it doesn’t feel like you’ve won anything because you played a stupid game and all you’re gonna get is a stupid prize.

When Minghao comes home, he expects the silence that’s been basically the trademark of your home for what, weeks? Months? It’s getting hard to tell and if he got to think about it any more he’d probably break down. He doesn’t get to, though, because the moment he closes the door and the sounds coming from the street can no longer be heard, he hears badly muffled sobbing instead.

It’s like an instinct. 

His body moves regardless of his will, his legs carry him towards the sound in a rush and determination that ignores that he’s still wearing shoes and that the bag with his laptop hit the ground without the usual caution he puts it down with. His mind is blank and all he feels is a cold dread.

He barely registers where he is, where you are, he only comes back to his senses when his arms are wrapped tightly around your trembling form and he’s pulling you into his chest and tucking your head under his chin and he’s shushing you, whispering sweet nothings and trying to calm you down. He tries to be sneaky when his hands move slowly over your body, trying to feel if you’re physically hurt somehow. He needs to know you’re okay and he realizes that’s what he should’ve been doing this whole time - make sure you’re okay. But he was too hurt himself and he failed to do that and while he understands he was in no state to care for both you and himself, it still leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

“Shhh, y/n…” he murmurs and he feels his voice break, “Tell me what you need.”

“Just hold me,” you sob and he’s thrown into the ice cold water of regret and pain all over again. He’s so tired, his body is exhausted, and yet somehow he finds the strength to pull you closer and uses the last of it to hold you like that until the oxygen in your lungs runs out. And still he feels you nuzzling closer and your hands grabbing at his clothes like he’s your lifeline and after being denied the feeling of being important to you for so long, it feels addictive. This is what he wants to be to you. This, sans the crying, is what he wants to come home to.

“Breathe with me,” he whispers, but he only feels you move closer, feels you bury your face into his chest. But that’s not where you’ll find air to breathe. It feels like the cruelest thing he’s ever done when he’s coaxing you to pull away enough to look at him. He wants to keep reliving the moment you immediately lean your forehead against his like you can’t stand being without him if only for a second. He keeps one arm around your waist while he cups your face with his other hand. He brushes your tears away as gently as he can with his shaky touch. Your eyes are so captivating he can’t look away.

“Breathe for me,” he whispers and you’re close enough that his lips brush against yours. His hand never leaves your skin as it slides down your jaw to your neck, down your shoulders and lower until it finds your hand. He intertwines your fingers while he brings it up to his chest and splays your palm over his heart. “Please. Can you feel me? Breathe with me.”

And so you do.

He adjusts his breathing to yours first so it’s easier. He guides you like he always does - gently, lovingly. Slowly he helps you calm down and steady your breathing. Neither of you can tell if you take in a deep breath or if your lips meet for a kiss before you part.

It feels unpleasant, to part. You’ll have to face the past weeks now. You’ll have to explain. It makes you want to forget the last couple minutes, that really felt like a whole another lifetime, and imagine they were just a dream. You want to go back just to avoid the confrontation.

“I still want to hold you,” Minghao says before your flight reflex can win over the fight one, “If you want me to.”

You feel the tears flowing slower now, as you smile a wobbly smile and huff a laugh. He doesn’t ask. He doesn’t push you into anything. He doesn’t push you away without meaning to. As you’d know he wouldn’t if you remembered sooner that this is Minghao who knows you best in this world.

You trust him with your soul to guide you through this when you slide your hands into his. You let him pull your along and let him take you to the couch. You know he’ll catch you when he pulls you down and makes you fall. When he pushes you against the back of the couch and traps you between it and his body, you feel safe.

He pulls the weighted blanket you keep there for times like these over your bodies. His arms fit snuggly around your body and it soon gets nicely toasty under the soft fabric covering you. You cuddle closer to him and close your eyes. It’s safe.

You’re safe.

And you know he’ll keep it that way.

You know he won’t ask, and you know he’ll wait until you’re ready. No matter how long that is.

Maybe this time you won’t have to run.

Maybe.

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #svt angst #the8 scenarios #minghao scenarios #the8 x reader #minghao x reader #the8 angst #minghao angst

[lanitalay]

Before I Say Goodnight

Chapter 10

a/n: Happy Monday!!!!! Word count: 4k

Warnings: none, crying as per usual

Other chapters

The last few days have been a blur. When you arrived at the Manor, your stomach was a bottomless pit. The possibility of returning home evaporated in a single second. The fight with Azriel is weighing heavy on your heart. That first night was spent looking at the sizzling hearth until the flames went out, the embers went cold and the sun came out. The second day was spent in bed, drifting between dreams of a life a world away and dreams of Azriel’s face as he watched you walk away. A box of your clothes was delivered by Cassian, you didn’t get out of bed to see him. The second night you managed about one hour of rest in between the fits of crying. You weren’t entirely sure why you were crying. It could have been because of the life that was taken from you, the enormous uncertainty that was your future or the fight with your closest friend here. The third day Jurian made you go with him to the nearby village to buy food for the house and do a check up on the recovery from the war with Hybern. He said you needed to get out of the house and that you looked and smelled like hell. That day you met Muriel, the local apothecary. Jurian brought you to her shop to find some herbs or a tonic or a salve or anything to get you to sleep. When Muriel saw the dark circles under your eyes, the greasiness of your hair and the bitten nails she quickly offered you tea. It was peppermint. It made you feel a little more alive, the liquid warming your cold hands and soothing your tattered heart. You breathed deep, savoring the fleeting moments of peace. “What’s wrong, darlin’?” She asked with a comforting twang that almost brought you to tears. Jurian put a hand on your back and said “she’s going through a difficult time and hasn’t slept in days. Do you have something that would help?” She nods “of course, I don’t have much in stock right now but I’ll give you enough for two nights, by then a new shipment would have arrived and I can dispatch more if you need” she searches for powders and dried leaves on her too full shelves and empties the containers into a small jar “dilute half of this mixture in warm water or milk thirty minutes before you want to fall asleep”. She hands you the jar “thank you” you say but it barely comes out as a whisper. “I can get something for your nails as well, help them get nice and healthy” you look at your hands, the nasty habit from childhood made a reappearance these past days. “I guess that could help” she quickly goes to another shelf and pulls out a tiny bottle “put this oil on all of your nails daily”. She tells Jurian to total and he gives her a few coins “I hope you feel better soon”.

That night you slept soundly. The following morning you got out of bed without having to be dragged out by one of the boys. You felt refreshed. The pit in your stomach still present but less daunting after a full night of sleep. When you walked into the kitchen Lucien’s eyes went wide “glad to see you up and cognizant” you rolled your eyes. “I slept well last night and actually feel like a person this morning” Jurian cuts Lucien off before he makes another remark “the tonic worked?” You nodded “like a charm”. 

After breakfast you had the house to yourself. Lucien was never really home during the day and Jurian had a meeting of sorts with one of the villages’ top blacksmiths. He had mentioned something about getting a decent blade. And Vassa was in her bird form. So you lingered in the kitchen, cleaned the mess from breakfast and had another cup of tea. This morning you missed coffee an extra bit. You were thinking of how there must be coffee plants somewhere in this world but they just haven’t been harvested properly or have not arrived to Prythian when someone knocked on the front door. Startled, you place a hand on your now hammering heart and think of what to do. No one should be home so you could just ignore it and hope they go away. But maybe it was Azriel or Cassian or even Mor. You calmed your breathing a bit and walk from the kitchen to the door. “You’re back” his voice was warm and familiar, almost jovial, but not quite. “Hello Eris, Lucien isn’t home” he didn’t look taken aback by your dry tone. Azriel’s dislike for the male rubbed off on you. “That’s a shame, I’ll just have to wait” he steps into the house before you can protest. “Was he expecting you?” He sits down on one of the sofas “can’t I visit my baby brother without an interrogation?” You huff and cross your arms. “How’s your foot?” Your eyes widen a bit at the memory, surprised he remembered. You look down and flex your toes within your boot and reply “it’s fine now”. “Are you always this enchanting to be around?” He sounds annoyed, you roll your eyes “you are free to leave and return when Lucien is actually here” and walk towards the library. You hear footsteps and are relieved for half a second until you realize he’s following you. “You know how to read?” How am I even supposed to answer that? “I do,” he hums, “impressive for a human”. You look through the shelves, hoping to find something entertaining. “This is a good one” does he ever shut up? He holds up a thin book “it’s an adventure novel, the protagonist flies across the world on a dragon”. You grab it from him and scan the pages. Eyes narrow at him, annoyed that he was kind of helpful “I didn’t know heirs have enough free time to read fiction”. He answers matter of fact “in the centuries I’ve been alive I’ve managed to carve out time to read”. You forget that. These beings are so much older than you’ll ever be. “I guess” you reluctantly concede. 

The rest of the day was spent reading the novel and ignoring Eris. He left shortly after Lucien arrived, their private conversation was brief and, by the looks of it, unremarkable . You wondered why he waited for hours just for that. In a way, it was good Eris had shown up. You never had any time to go into a spiral because by the time he left everybody was home again. “How was your day?” Vassa asked you sweetly. “It was alright, better than the last few” she grinned at that. 

You  used the last of the tonic and slept until the clattering of pots and pans woke you.

“I need to return to the village today” Jurian raises an eyebrow at you. “For the tonic” his features relax, remembering “that’s right, think you can go by yourself? I have to go to the ports today” you think for a moment “I guess, can I take one of the horses?” He nods “take Lucien’s”.

You take a deep breath. The only times you’d been by yourself in this world had never ended well. Just follow the path and you’ll be fine. You repeat the affirmation to yourself all the way to the village. 

The apothecary shop was empty, as it had been the last time you’d been here. But Muriel was there and she smiled when you stepped in. “Hello” you greet “You’re lookin’ so much better darlin’” she was excited. You nod and offer her the best smile you can muster “the tonic worked wonders, do you have any more?” She put her hands at her hips and nods “I sure do, but it’ll take me a while to get everythin’ ready” she walks to the restocked shelves “the girl that usually helps me got married last week and I have about twenty orders I’m behind on”. Her nimble hands pick small leaves of oregano off the stem and drop them into a mortar and pestle. She grinds the leaves with a memorized rhythm, you stare and get lost in the perfectly rehearsed movements. You speak before you really think about what you’re about to say “I can help, if you’d like. I could use something to do during the day” and a marketable skill if you are to stay in this world. Muriel takes you in, and maybe it’s because of pity or necessity but she says “alright, you can make your own sleep powder, grab another mortar and pestle and grind a handful of these flowers” she points at the equipment and the ingredients simultaneously and you immediately get to work. 

It’s almost dark when Muriel finally announces that it’s time to close the shop for the day. Your hands were sore from grinding flowers and herbs and salts. You smelled of the incense she kept burning. Your eyes felt heavy, it had been a very long day. But you felt lighter than you had in a month, maybe in a year. The scents of the shop were warm and soothing. Muriel reminded you of your grandmother, she had crinkles around her eyes and gray hairs sprinkled through her long brown curls. “Can I come back tomorrow?” You asked, hoping she’d say yes “well, of course. You were very helpful today” you stop yourself before you crush her in a hug, her kindness bringing back to life a part of yourself that had long been dormant and say “see you then”. 

“Where have you been all day?” You smile at Lucien “I got a job, I’ll need your horse to get into town everyday” he looks even more confused now. “What are you talking about?” You hop off the saddle and skip towards him “I’m helping Muriel at the apothecary shop, look” and you pull out a jar with the sleep powder “I made this myself, she says I’m a natural”. Lucien can’t deny that it brings him joy seeing you excited about something. “I’ll need my horse some days, but I’m happy for you” he says and pats you on the shoulder. 

“I can’t afford to pay you much more than a few coppers a week” Muriel says the next morning “it’s ok, I really just want to learn”. She nods and the day progresses like the last. Grinding, mixing, packaging and handing out orders. In the flow of routine and monotony you got lost. There, your sole focus was the tasks at hand and gleaning any information you could from Muriel. You didn’t think about your world, your family, your friends, Azriel… nothing that wasn’t in the shop mattered and you were glad. 

A week. 

Two weeks.

Three weeks passed in the same routine. It was peaceful. Breakfast with the boys, then you’d ride into town and work with Muriel until sunset, by the time you reached the Manor it was dinner time and you’d stuff your face and pass out until the next day. Then you’d do it over again. “Tomorrow the shop won't be opening, I’m visiting my sister” Muriel told you as you were cleaning the tools you’d used during the day “so take a break and rest, we’ll be back the day after”. You deflated a bit, the distraction of the routine was your lifeline to sanity “oh, alright, have a nice visit with your sister” she smiled “I will, I haven’t seen her in months. Her daughter had a baby and she’s been fussin’ over them so much I haven’t seen her since” she chuckles. Your chest tightens a bit, a reminder of what you didn’t have anymore. 

The next morning was the same up until everyone left. The empty house felt extra big. You were washing clothes when you heard a knock. Sighing, you get up and open the door. “You should know by now that Lucien isn’t here during the day” you say as Eris stands in front of you. “Maybe I’m not here for Lucien” you step away to let him inside “then why are you here?” Eris walks in but remains standing “I come here when I need a break from my father” he inspects the sitting room “are you the servant?” You suppose no one has ever told him who you really are “I’m … Jurian’s friend” he puts his hands in his pockets “I see” you jump when another knock rattles the door “expecting company?” Eris asks “no” , you respond and open the door for the second time today. Your breath catches in your throat as you see a dark looming figure on the steps. 

“Az?” He’s standing with his hands behind his back but his shadows engulf you as if saying hi to an old friend. You giggle a bit as they gently caress your face. “Y/n” he breathes, like he’s surprised to see you “you look,” he scans you “you look good” you nod “I feel good”. He sags a bit, you’re not sure why, but continues “I’m glad” you shift on your feet “want to come inside?” He shakes his head “I’m actually on my way to an assignment but I wanted to make sure you were fine, Lucien said you were. I just had to see for myself” you nod “I’m better” a pause. A breath “Az I’m sorry for calling you an ass” he smiles at that “I’m sorry for saying all that I said, it was your decision and I was overstepping” another pause “I want you to come to the Night Court for Solstice” he blurts. Your brows raise “oh, I’d love to. When is it?” His cheeks are a little pink, you suppose it’s from the cold “in a few weeks, Lucien is also going. You can winnow with him or I can fly you but I think winnowing is more comfortable in the dead of winter”. You smile lightly, “alright Az, I’ll see you then”. He returns the smile and steps away and lunges to the air. 

“How do you know the Shadowsinger that intimately?” You press your back to the door, heart beating wildly and you’re sure your face is beet red. “You’re not the only one that comes to visit, Eris” he clutches his chest “and I thought what we had was special” and pouts. “It’s like you have a sixth sense for when I’m home alone. Got a little crush?” He scoffs, and you swear you can see his lips straining to lift. “It’s ok if you do, I’m incredibly charming. Not to mention beautiful”. “Humans are not my type” you shrug and wink at him before returning to your room and your chores. 

Washing your skirts, shirts, sweaters and leggings was therapeutic in its own way. The rhythmic scrubbing against the board, the sound of water splashing and sloshing, the suds tickling your forearms and the floral scent of the detergent was enough to ease your mind and keep the ever present panic at bay. When you were done, you returned down stairs and hung the clothes outside. Winter was closer now, but you were hopeful that the first frost of the season would wait until after your clothes were dry. “Are you going to eat?” You jump and clutch at your chest, having forgotten that Eris was here. At his question your stomach grumbles. It must be past midday then. “I could eat”. 

You split a loaf of bread and some soft cheese with Eris. He was not pleased by the rudimentary meal but ate, nonetheless. “Where are you from?” You choke a bit. Not knowing how to answer. “Uhm, I’m from the Southern Continent”. In the first books Jurian showed you there were maps of the world, and a southern continent twice as far as the Continent to the east seemed like a good place to lie about. From what you gathered, Prythian and the other lands North of it had very little knowledge of it, only some stories from explorers or merchants brave enough to face the tempestuous ocean that separated it. He looks surprised “and how did you end up here?” You want to groan, but instead say “oh you know… this and that. There was a boat and a storm and now I’m here” you look at the bread and cheese, making a little sandwich while Eris stares at you. You’re certain he doesn’t believe a word. But you don’t trust him enough to tell the truth, given your involvement with the Night Court and their tumultuous relations with Autumn. “Very convincing story, y/n” you still don’t look at him and are saved from further questioning when Lucien walks through the door.  

The next few weeks fly by. The shop is organized and running smoothly now that you and Muriel have settled on an effective routine. Life with the exiles was as calm as it could be. The occasional discussion between Jurian and Vassa kept things interesting and on some nights you’d sit by the hearth and share stories of your very different lives.

The day before Solstice Lucien winnowed the two of you to Velaris. You had been nervous to see the Inner Circle, namely Rhysand, but not enough to stay away. You had never talked to Lucien about Elain, but you guess that part of the reason why he makes the trip back for the holiday is to see her. And also why both of you are tight lipped and visibly uncomfortable when Feyre opens the door to the River House. 

“Lucien, y/n! I’m so happy you made it!” she exclaims while stepping aside to let you in. You were shaking now, the light coat that kept you more than warm in the Human Lands not nearly thick enough for the Night Court winter. Inside the house is toasty warm though and the smell of something sweet permeates the air. Feyre hugs Lucien and then he leaves, you assume that he’s going to look for Elain. “Thanks for having me,” you tell her, “of course, it has been too long since we’ve seen you” at that her eyes soften, remembering why you haven’t been around. “I’m sorry the portal didn’t work, I believe Gwyn is still working on figuring out what happened”. You shrug “it was difficult to accept at first but now I’m doing better” she brightens “Lucien said you had been working at the apothecary?” You smile and nod “yes, I’ve been learning a lot and getting my hands dirty. I could see myself staying there for a while” she wraps her arm around your shoulders and leads to the main sitting room “I’m glad, y/n. But remember you are always welcome here, Velaris needs apothecaries as well” and nudges you playfully. You laugh. 

Everyone is here: Nesta, Cassian, Rhysand, Elain, Mor, Amren, Gwyn, Nyx and Azriel. Your heart stops when you see him. You say hello to everyone and make a mental note to thank Cassian and Nesta for the box of clothes before you leave again. He stands pin straight as he watches you approach. “Hi” you say, the corners or your mouth perking up as you finish the word. He smiles too “I’m happy you’re here”. You’re about to say something when Mor shouts “everybody better have wine!” After that the night is a blur. 

The pounding in your head reminds you why you haven’t had wine since girls night. A cacophony of groans engulfs the room as banging noises come from the kitchen. You go to place your hands over your ears but something warm and heavy is draped across your middle. You turn your head and see that Lucien is spooning you. Oh god. You turn to look at the other sofa and see Nesta and Gwyn in the same cuddle. Mor is in a fetal position on the floor. What the hell happened.  More banging echoes and you throw Lucien’s arm off you and cover your ears. He wakes up when his hand slaps his face and curses. You push yourself off the sofa and go into the kitchen. Nyx has made an instrument out of a pot and a metal spoon. He laughs when he sees you walk in. I must look like a goblin. “Look Nyxie, one of the sleepy heads is awake” you rub your eyes “his little concert is difficult to sleep through” Feyre picks him up and gives you an apologetic look. “Looks like you all kept the party going after we went to bed” you sit at the kitchen table and rest your head on your hands “I guess we did, but I don’t remember a thing”.  One by one the others join you in your misery at the table. “Where are Azriel, Cassiand and Rhysand?” you ask as breakfast appears. Mor replies “annual snowball fight” like it’s common knowledge, but you are not that curious ask for clarification so you have breakfast and hope you don’t throw up. 

You spend the next few hours sleeping and then getting ready for the actual Solstice celebrations. You had brought your purple long sleeved dress for the occasion, your nicest dress by far. By nightfall everyone was all together again and dressed to the nines. You couldn’t help but notice how good Azriel looked. His hair had grown in the weeks you hadn’t been here. His curls frame his face and give him a boyish look. He wore an all black outfit, the only color from his siphons. He looked at ease, his usual stiffness gone in the comfort of his family. You notice you are staring and look away. “He’s been looking at you all night too” Lucien whispers in your ear. You blush and pick at invisible lint on your dress “shut up”. The group starts exchanging gifts and you watch with amusement as everyone opens Mor’s presents gingerly. You had been warned about her handicap when it came to gift giving. Then the wine starts flowing again. You opt out tonight, wanting to avoid a major hangover, possibly death.

It’s a few hours after midnight when everyone has either gone to bed or passed out. You place blankets over the few that remained on the sofas and floor. Then move to the kitchen and look for cookies. “Smart of you to sit this one out” you jump a little when you hear Azriel’s voice. “I thought you’d be out until morning” he shrugged “I just needed a power nap, I’m as good as new”. You hummed, finding the cookie jar. “Here” you hand Azriel a cookie. You sit in silence for a bit until he says “I got you a present” and he takes a small box out of his jacket pocket. “Oh Az, you didn’t have to do that. I didn’t get anything for you” he shakes his head and pushes the box in front of you “open it”. You wipe your hands on a napkin and begin unwrapping it carefully. You frown, inside the box is your phone. You look at him quizzically, he smiles “turn it on”. You gasp when you press the button and the screen comes to life, a picture of your dog staring back at you. Your eyes well up. “How is this even possible?” He smiles “I don’t know exactly, I took it to the same tinkerer that made Lucien's mechanical eye and they took care of it”. You look from the screen towards him. Tears falling freely now. You set it down on the counter and walk over to him, wrapping  your arms around him in the strongest hug you could muster. “Thank you so much, Az” his arms come to your waist and he hugs you back. You know he can feel your heart beating wildly in that moment, because you can feel his.

taglist: @luvmoo

#acowar #acotar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #jurian acotar #rhysand #azriel shadowsinger #acomaf #acosf #lucien vanserra #azriel x reader #azriel #lucien acotar #a court of thorns and roses #feyre archeron #a court of silver flames #night court #prythian #jurian x vassa #elain archeron #jassa

[mandos-mind-trick]

The Wolf Pup

Summary: It’s no secret within the 104th that the stern Commander is soft for the Pack’s so-called Wolf Pup. After a close call on a combined mission with the 501st, Wolffe takes it upon himself to remind her they'll always be there for her, no matter what.

Pairing: Wolffe & Padawan!OC (entirely platonic)

Warnings: Substantial injuries, violence, blood, panic attacks, fluff, soft!Wolffe, whump cause I like torturing my characters.

A/N: So this was originally going to be part of a whump series that I was going to write and never got around to. I was actually going to post something else with these characters but then I was like...wait. Y'all have no clue who Lexa is so I'm posting this one first.

Some background:

Lexa is Plo Koon's padawan. She's a Twi'lek, around 16 years old when this happens in the timeline. She's a year or two older than Ahsoka, and of course they're like BFFs naturally. Lexa is a shortened version of her name cause she has a traditional Twi'leki name that's very hard for non-native speakers to pronounce so she goes by Lexa. She has light purple skin (Cause I can) with darker purple spots (like think Kit Fisto's spots in the CW show but all over her body) and our girl is tall. Like she almost be looking the clones in the eyes. (I swear I'm going to learn how to draw eventually so I can properly portray my OCs.)

MASTERLIST

Her body aches. 

It’s the first thing she notices when she wakes. 

She feels like she’s been hit by a speeder. Her head is throbbing, something trickling down the side of her face. Her arm is throbbing, a deep painful throb that only means one thing. It’s likely broken. She opens her eyes, fear beginning to well inside her. 

She can’t see. 

She presses her hand to her face, not feeling anything covering it. She still can’t see anything. She reaches for her hip, feeling along her side until she hits her belt. She trails her fingers along it until she hits metal. She breaths a short sigh of relief, wrapping her hand around her lightsaber. She ignites it, glad to see its familiar green glow in the light of the cave. 

It is a cave she’s in. She can’t see anything but darkness above her. No sign of daylight. The only other explanation could be that it’s nighttime, but she doesn’t think she’s been unconscious that long. 

It had been morning when they’d attacked. 

They were trying to prevent a droid battalion from setting up a base on this remote planet. If they got their communication tower online, it would cut off one half the Republic Army from the other. 

Master Plo and Master Skywalker had taken half the army one way, and she and Ahsoka had led the other half the other way. Things had looked like they were going well, until something had caused the ground to shake and it had opened practically under her and Ahsoka’s feet. 

Ahsoka. 

She pushes herself to stand, breathing through the pain. She does a quick scan with the force, feeling every bruise, nick, and cut. Her left arm is broken, likely from her landing. She disengages her lightsaber, engaging the com in her vambrace. 

“Master Plo?” Her voice is weak and shaky, her heart thrumming in her chest. 

Nothing but static. 

She tries again, getting the same result. 

Had their mission failed and the droids powered up the communication tower? Or had the fall damaged her comm? It was possible, as she had landed on her left side. 

Ahsoka was her only hope, that her comm was still working. 

“Ahsoka?” She calls into the darkness, hearing nothing but her own voice echoing. 

She reaches out with the force, feeling for Ahsoka as she shines her lightsaber along the ground. She shouldn’t be too far. They were close enough they both were swallowed up by the crack in the ground. 

She feels something, a weak pulse in the force a few feet ahead of her. She moves carefully, not wanting to trip over any rocks. That must be why she hurts. The ground is very uneven with many large rocks sticking out. 

The air leaves her lungs when she finds Ahsoka. 

She’s fallen on a small pile of rocks, her body bent over the beak. She’s still, having been knocked unconscious in the fall. For a moment Lexa thinks she’s dead, but she can feel the weak force signature still. She can heal her. Lexa was always good at using the Force to heal. 

First, she needs to get her down though. 

Lexa’s left arm is throbbing painfully. She’d need to fix that before she can help Ahsoka. She focuses the force, knitting the bone back together. She nearly passes out when she’s done, both from the pain and the exertion. She forces herself onward, though, knowing she needs to help Ahsoka. 

She uses the force, carefully lifting her body from the rocks, lowering her down to the small divot where she’s standing. She kneels next to Ahsoka, looking over her with the light of her saber. She doesn’t look hurt, but she knows she could be fatally wounded internally. 

She grabs Ahsoka’s comm, calling out to her master once more. 

Again, nothing but static. 

“Master Skywalker?” She tries, getting nothing but static again. “Wolffe?” She whimpers, panic beginning to settle in as realization dawns on her. “Captain Rex?” 

Nothing but static. 

Tears run down her cheeks as she begins to panic. She tugs at her lekku, a nervous habit she had yet to break. They’re entirely alone in this huge cavern with no discernable way out, and no way of contacting anyone. They at least knew they were missing above. Someone had to see them fall. This cave system could be huge. How were they going to find them? 

She’s hyperventilating, losing herself to her panic as she shines her lightsaber in both directions. The light disappears into darkness both ways. Which way would she even go? She can’t carry Ahsoka. 

She curses, slamming her fist against one of the rocks. 

She needs to get a hold of herself. 

First she needs to check Ahsoka, and try to heal as much as she can. Then she can worry about trying to find a way out. She’s not going to let Ahsoka die. Ahsoka is like a sister to her, and she’s not going to let anything happen to her. She had promised Master Plo. 

Lexa closes her eyes, taking deep breaths. She centers herself in the force, pushing down the fear and the panic threatening to take over. She can do this. She can be stronger than her fear. 

She puts a hand on Ahsoka’s stomach, focusing the force through her. She holds on as long as she can, healing as much as she can. 

She nearly blacks out, her body falling limp from exhaustion. There’s a headache thumping in her forehead, slowly getting stronger. She’s overdone it, but at least Ahsoka won’t die from her injuries. 

She wraps an arm around the young Togruta, pulling her close. She needs a nap. Just a short one. Maybe she’d wake up and they’d be rescued already. 

**

She wakes in the cave. It’s cold, her body already shivering. She curses, scooting closer to Ahsoka. She wraps her arms around the Togruta, holding her close to try and share any warmth they have left. She reaches for the comm, calling out again but once more, there’s nothing but static. 

She grabs her lightsaber, igniting it. The ground glitters with frost, her breath visible in the darkness, and so is Ahsoka’s. She’s shivering as well. It’s cold. Very cold. It must be night now, or at least close to it. She doesn’t want to think about it getting colder. Neither of them will make it. 

Lexa closes her eyes, reaching out in the force, trying to feel anything that might be close. She doesn’t get far, already feeling the exhaustion pulling at her once more. She can’t exhaust herself completely. Ahsoka needs her, and she couldn’t possibly get them out of here if she’s too exhausted to move. 

Lexa forces herself awake, trying to keep them from freezing to death, too. 

It’s a long and miserable night. 

Lexa is starting to feel the effects of her hunger and thirst by morning. She hasn’t eaten in almost a full day, and she’s beginning to feel it. Expending her energy using the force isn’t helping either, but she has to keep healing Ahsoka. Even if it’s foolish, she refuses to let her die when there is a chance. 

She also continues trying to reach someone on the comms, but she has no luck. 

Until that luck changes. 

It’s a garbled signal, barely audible but she hears it. 

“Master Plo?” She asks, listening to the static. 

More broken voices. It’s not her master. Those are clone voices. 

“Wolffe?” She asks. “Anyone? Can you hear me?” 

It’s quiet for a few moments and she rises to her feet. Maybe if she moved somewhere else in the cave, she’d get a better signal. 

She uses her lightsaber as she walks, pausing every time she hears a sound other than static from the comm. 

“Ahsoka, come in.” 

Master Skywalker. She’s never been so happy to hear another voice, pressing the button on the comm to reply when something swoops down out of the sky, hitting her. The comm link drops from her hand, her body falling back against the rocks. 

She gasps as the air is knocked from her lungs, the attack taking her by surprise. She pushes herself to her feet, shining her lightsaber to try and see what it was. Something swoops at her again, but she ducks just barely getting grazed by it. Whatever it is, it’s very big. 

She’s panicking again. What if there’s more than one? What if they find Ahsoka? Why were they now just attacking? 

She doesn't see it until it’s right on her, talons sinking into her chest as she’s lifted off her feet. She just manages to hold onto her lightsaber as she’s lifted into the air. She can feel skin tearing as the creature holds onto her, blood soaking her robes. She swings her lightsaber at it, catching one of its wings. It hisses out a horrible scream and she readjusts, slicing its feet with her saber. 

It’s a good move, until she’s falling. 

She braces herself for impact once more, only to hit water. It’s shockingly cold, almost stealing the breath from her lungs. She pushes herself to the surface, choking in a breath. Something glides along the water and she ducks down, holding herself under as the creature passes overhead. She keeps herself under until her lungs scream, pushing herself to the top. 

She takes in a big gulp of air, looking around. There’s no sign of the creature. She hopes it’s not because it’s found Ahsoka. 

She drags herself out of the water. She’s shivering, the water icy cold. She’s not going to survive another night with wet clothes. 

She also doesn’t know where Ahsoka is. 

“Help!” She screams, uncaring if it draws the creature, or more of them to her. She’s desperate. She’s lost Ahsoka, she’s soaking wet, and she's going to freeze to death. They both were, if she doesn’t get help. 

She continues screaming until her voice is hoarse, walking around the cavern in the direction she thinks Ahsoka is. She finally finds her again, dropping to her knees on the rocks. This is it. She’s going to die. They both are. She’s failed Ahsoka, and she’s failed her master. 

There’s a loud sound from somewhere above, rocks falling from the roof, clattering on the ground. Bright light suddenly fills the cavern, Lexa holding her arm up at the painful intrusion. 

“Help!” She screams again, putting everything she can into it. She falls back, nearly crying as clone troopers begin dropping into the hole using jetpacks. “We did it.” She breathes, huddling next to Ahsoka. “We’re saved.”

She does begin crying as Wolffe runs up to her, falling to his knees next to her. 

“Wolffe.” She whimpers, squeezing her eyes closed as his fingers prod at the wounds on her chest.

“Easy, ad’ika.” He says, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get you two out of here.” 

****

Lexa can’t sleep. She’d been freed from the med bay a few hours ago. Ahsoka was alright, making a full recovery thanks to her. Master Skywalker had already expressed his gratitude for what Lexa had done. Master Plo was proud of her and her bravery, even if she didn’t quite feel like she deserved it. 

She wanders the halls, something she does when she can’t sleep. She’d tried meditating already, but her mind is loud with memories of the last couple days. She holds the ends of her lekku in her hands as she walks, tugging on them absentmindedly. It’s a bad habit, it really is, but she’s never been able to break it. 

She nearly walks into a body, a hand reaching out to steady her. She blinks up at Wolffe, meeting the Commander’s naturally stern stare. It softens just a bit as he looks at her, his hand falling from her shoulder. “Sorry, Wolffe.” She says, dropping her hands from her lekku. 

“Careful, ad’ika.” He says. “You just got out of the med bay. Hate to see you have to go back.” 

She makes a face, scrunching her nose. “I hate that place. It smells bad.” 

A small smile tugs at the corners of Wolffe’s mouth. “What are you doing up so late?” 

“Just walking.” She answers simply. 

“Just walking.” He repeats, raising his eyebrows. He’s known her long enough to know when she’s hiding something. She’s good at hiding her emotions from her voice and her words, but her body language gave everything away if you knew what to look for. The subtle shake of her lekku, the little frown pinched between her brows, the tenseness in her shoulders, the way her hands can’t stay still. Wolffe can read her like a holonovel. 

“Well, it’s been a long couple days...” She shrugs, avoiding his gaze. Another sign something’s up. “Lots to think about.” 

“It has been a long couple days.” He says. “You should be resting.”

“Easier said than done.” She murmurs. 

“Come on.” He puts a hand on her back, starting to walk her back towards the barracks. 

It’s no secret within the 104th that the stern Commander is soft for the Pack’s so-called Wolf Pup. She’d wormed her way into their ranks and their hearts not long after the General allowed her to accompany them on missions. She already knew some of their names, and the others she learned quickly. She’s just as kind and caring as her master, and was not afraid to jump in to save one of them on the battlefield if she could. 

The boys loved their little pup as much as they loved their General. The absolute fear they’d felt when they’d been helpless to watch both her and Ahsoka disappear during the earthquake. Boost had been smart to mark the area as they marched on, forced to leave the two padawans behind. They had to get to the base before it could begin broadcasting, and that meant leaving the two padawans and hope they survived long enough for them to return. 

Wolffe had been terrified of what they might find when they finally broke through the thick crust of the planet. It was a long drop into the cave, and he’d thought the worst until he’d heard her screaming. It had broken his heart, how scared she looked, how much blood she had been covered in. Both padawans had lived, thanks to his little pup’s bravery and determination. 

He steers her towards his own barracks, her mind so distracted she doesn’t even notice until the door opens. He’s glad the others are still mostly dressed, not having thought that through very well. He nudges her inside, the others greeting her. Boost and Sinker squish her between them in a hug, their normal greeting for her outside of more formal instances. 

Her muffled voice sounds from between them and they release her, letting her take a deep breath in. The others greet her, despite having seen her only a couple hours ago upon her release from the med bay. 

“Boys,” Wolffe addresses them, setting his helmet on someone’s bed. “I think our ad’ika needs a cuddle pile.” 

They share looks before they all begin moving, grabbing blankets and pillows. Wolffe steers Lexa to the open space against the far wall, sitting down on the floor. He catches a pillow tossed at him, setting it in his lap before tugging her down. She rests her head against the pillow, the others arranging blankets and pillows around them. They all settle in, surrounding their pup with warmth and comfort. 

Wolffe gently massages the space between her lekku, her body practically melting into the floor. He’s not good with comforting words, not like the General, but he can offer her this kind of comfort. Remind her she’s not alone, that they would always be there for her. They would never leave her behind, no matter the odds. He can imagine the kind of fear she had felt, and he hates he couldn’t be there to protect her from it. 

All he can do now is remind her that it’s over, that she’s tucked in safely with her pack.

Taglist: (I know more of you have asked to be on my everything taglist but I was dumb and forgot to mark people so if I have forgotten you please let me know 🫣)

@bobaprint, @star-trekker-0013, @rosechi

#star wars #star wars fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #wolffe & OC #platonic clones #commander wolffe #plo koon #padawan!OC

[syeren]

NEW YEAR, NEW ME.

His finger shakily tapped along his knee as he braced himself for the nth time. A call. A stupid. Fucking. Call. Geto gulped down a lump in his throat as he heard a voice on the other end.

“… Hello?”

“Is this… I mean— I’ve been trying to reach you, haven’t you received my calls?”

“Oh, no sorry. I think you have the wrong number.”

“I… See, yeah… Yeah, I should’ve judged by the voice.”

“No worries! I think I’ve seen your number floating around frequently during the past week, I didn’t pick up though. Genuinely, I thought it was another spam call—“

“Ah, I’m sorry for troubling you. I’ll end the call now, have a nice day.”

“You too—“

Beep. Beep. Beep.

A clammy hand dragged down his dehydrated skin, his long lashes poking out through the gaps left open by lazy fingers. A deep rumble from a sigh vibrated in his throat, then echoed around his humid studio apartment… Drenched in nauseating vanilla musk cologne, and thick smoke billowed from a half-lit cigarette. In the corner of his apartment was a Vinyl player, playing Chet Baker softly as he thought.

“… Fuckin’ hell.”

He slowly got up from his hunched position against the wall, pushing some weight off of the surface to compensate the weakened muscles he had left. He had no courage or stamina to even reach the front door if anyone wanted to check up on him, perhaps he had been too optimistic about that mere thought.

He stumbled in his apartment, toppling over heaps of garbage and empty liquor bottles, a loud statement of his pain. As he neared his unkept bed, he plopped onto his flat, tear-stained mattress. The quiet rumble of traffic outside his apartment window was his alarm clock, while the occasional chatter from his next-door neighbours were his source of entertainment. Amongst those were the occasional pops of fireworks going off in the distance, ahh yes, the welcoming of the new year.

Another year, he thought, to wake up and go through his schedule on autopilot. It was rinse and repeat, at this point. His body clock already stopped working after countless nights of insomnia, and he spent that time thinking… Again. Another day, another year.

The record continued to play, aiding the descent into his brain once more. It had been a long time since he last seen you, heard your voice, felt you in his arms— Hell, the fact he couldn’t reach you anymore was already driving him insane. What drove you away? Perhaps it was his lack of understanding towards you, maybe it was the fact he stuck his nose into his own stuff and never had the light of day just to talk— Properly, that time. However, it may be the certain situation that he was burying himself into, the over-thinking. Did you get tired of it? Were you too exhausted to put up with it?

He wanted to understand. Those countless nights he spent just pondering over his own pessimism and confusion, it was enough for him already. He turned his dreary body around, planting his face against the pillow and shutting his eyes. He nestled into the illusion of comfort, but the true beauty of peace is long gone.

The intoxicating vanilla and musk clung to his bedsheets, doused in the saltiness of tears and a hint of fresh pine. He hadn’t taken a shower yet, a proper bath didn’t even pop into one of his hundreds of thoughts running in his brain until now; thus, he opted to submerge himself in his racks of cologne and perfume for the meantime. His eyes darted sideways, tilting his head to the darkness the night sky blanketed him with. Another sigh left his lips.

“… Did I not love them enough?” his voice broke through like a scratchy record, hoarse and unpleasant. A broken record of anxiety and negativity. “Did I love them too much?”

He laid there on top of his bed, drifting off into a dreamless sleep. Sleep sounds good, real good. To simply release those relaxing chemicals into your brain, signalling it to shut down. He wished he could that to his thoughts all day but, he holds on to something he can’t achieve— The notion to meet you once more. As the time passed, he felt his body sinking deeper into his mattress and—

Ring. Ring. Ring.

A groan bursted out as he lazily reached over to his bedside table, grabbing his phone and putting it to his ear. He knew that he would get another mouthful of false-positive comments from his buds, and he sucked in a breath once pressing ‘answer.’

“Satoru, I already—”

“Geto?”

The familiar chime sound, it was the type of bell that twinkles and flutters; much like a Furin in a soft Summer breeze. It wasn’t anything like the Church bell noise that Satoru’s voice gave off, resounding, rich, yet clanging to his ears. His eyes shot open as he clambered to sit up in his bed, crossing his legs as he tried to gather his scatterplot of thoughts.

“Hey,” he managed to croak out, albeit with a loud voice crack. “I didn’t… Expect you to call me.”

“Satoru told me I should check in with you, so that’s why,” your voice sounded like you were smiling through your words. He swore he could picture you smiling. “This is my new number, you can save it if you would like.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t want to disturb you, however.”

“No, no! You wouldn’t. Well, I just wanted to check in.”

“Okay, okay… No promises on being convinced,” he added, chuckling awkwardly as he cleared his throat into his fist.

“Alright. Well, I’m gonna hang up now, okay? Stay safe, Geto.”

“Mhm, you too. Thanks— For checking in, I mean.”

“No worries, bye!”

“Goodbye.”

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He immediately threw his phone down to his side as cold sweat profusely beaded around his temples. Black, messy locks draped over his eyes, and his gaze shot down at the mattress beneath him. Slowly, he leaned back against the wall once more, staring at the phone that connected you and him together. Even if it were brief.

All the times he called you, wanted to talk to you, hear that voice… Yet he wussed out, only managing to blurt out a quick ‘thanks for checking in.’ He wanted to profess his adoration, his emotions he held deep within his heart but once he finally got the chance to tell you, it didn’t meet to his expectations. Strings of profanities left his lips, muttering out into the silence of his own home.

Just as the clock renewed itself on that plastic display, he too, decided for that change. The unfamiliarity of the numbers twinkled in his eyes, and surely this would be a sign of hope. To pick himself up and just start anew— Well, once he figures out how to fix up his living quarters, that is.

The distant popping and cheers echoed from his complex and outside, and once Geto looked over at the clock, it was 12:00 AM sharp. A painful chuckle left his lips as his head craned back to rest against the surface. A new year, huh? It was ironic, how cheerful and abundant the atmosphere was throughout the building and the city, yet here he was wallowing in nothing but the repetitive Chet Baker record he had on. He reached in his pocket, grabbing the same pack of Camel he had and popping a cigarette up. Pressing the stick between his lips and lighting the butt, he inhaled deeply and blew out a thick cloud of smoke. The Turkish blend scattered through the air, filling the room with hazy puffs.

Another day, another year. Maybe this one will treat him better.

_______________

an; happy new year! :3 LOL i didn’t think i would make an angst for the new year, but i’ll infuse all my good energy into this post so it won’t affect ur upcoming blessings <3

#jjk #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto angst #jjk angst

[crustless-toast]

Screaming Your Name

Here is Chapter 1 to Screaming Your Name! An Oc x Daryl Dixon story! I'm gonna really try to not make the story too cringy and if I am please let me know so I can fix it lol. I hope you enjoy it either way!

I'm a little new to posting on Tumblr so I hope to be able to link all the chapter together properly as I post them. Until then, Enjoy!!

Raven was like any normal person. She worked a boring retail job that paid close to nothing. Just to go home to an empty house, pay bills, eat and sleep. Nothing exciting really happened in her life. She was just different than the average person. She enjoyed the little things. She was more of a glass half full kind of gal. Always enjoying the little things in the world. Unfortunately, the world came to an end. She wasn’t the athletic type but when monsters are chasing you down to eat you alive the only thing you can do is run. Running is what led her to her new life with people she never thought would enter it. She found friends, family, and love. She learned to fight, to face her fears, and to keep pushing forward even through the dark times. Out of everything all she wanted was to get one man to open up to her more. To show him the good that was left in the world. For Daryl Dixon to see there is still hope in the world. That life is still good. 

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

Gripping my blanket closer to my body, I shiver as cold sweats soak my body. I don’t know how much more I can handle this. My cold that I've had from the start of this, has turned into something much worse.

 What medicine I did have is gone. Finding medicine is close to impossible nowadays. A few Advil here and there, as well as a bag of cough drops can only get you so far. Everywhere I’ve looked has already been picked through. The more populated areas are hard to look through. Too many of the dead filling those areas. I can't look through them on my own. It’s close to impossible. 

The summer heat had no effect on my cold body. The warmth just feels like the blanket. The slight breeze just makes me shiver more. If it was a normal day in the old world, people would think I was insane having a thick blanket wrapped around me with the sun beating down on me. But in the old world I’d have medicine and I'd be fine in a few days.

The sound of the dead was behind me and there was nowhere to go. No place to hide. I looked around to maybe find something, but there was only an empty road surrounded by woods. I grip my knife, deciding my only option was the woods. 

My legs were getting so heavy. I was having a hard time staying ahead of them. I needed to keep moving but I had to stop. My throat was burning from the sickness and the heat. I need to stop and to drink some of my water. Quickly getting back up. The sun was starting to set and it was getting too dark to see. 

I was getting too tired to keep going. My eyes feeling like someone is pushing them closed. I drop my bag, dropping to my knees but I kept a tight grip on my knife. Taking deep breaths that end with me coughing. I covered my mouth with my blanket, needing to keep quiet incase any of the dead were near. 

I jump at the snap of a twig not that far from behind me. Looking around, seeing if there was anything up ahead. I didn’t see much, but there was something ahead of me. It was hard to tell what it was exactly. But what light was left I could see something reflecting. Like a window.

Grabbing my bag, I moved ahead, dragging my bag next to me. Not having the strength to pick it up. As I got closer, I could see it was a cabin of some kind right in the center of an open field. Abandoned before the world ended. 

Growling was behind me. Staying here was my only option. 

Throwing my bag on my shoulder, almost making me fall. I raised my knife and slowly made my way to the cabin. I head up to the steps of the porch, listening closly to see if I could hear anything. So far nothing. 

I closed the door behind me, locking it with its old rusty padlock and placed a chair in front of it that was close by. Moving forward once my eyes were adjusted to the darkness. There was another door in front of me that led to the other side of the cabin. I drop my bag, heading to the door to close it as well as put a chair in front of it. In case something comes in I could hear it first.

To my left looked to be some kind of dining room with a table flipped over and chairs thrown all over. As well as the kitchen that appeared to be cleared out with every cabinet opened wide.. To my right I think it was a living room. It was empty with only a couch that looked so comfortable. The livingroom appeared to have a small hall that lead to other rooms. Each was empty with nothing in them but some old furniture that was rusted and destroyed. 

Grabbing my bag I made my way to the couch. My body relaxed as I sunk into it. Not caring about the dust. Exhausted from having to run all day. 

Reaching in my bag I grabbed my water, but it was empty. Just my luck. I didn’t realize I drank it all already. 

My body was so cold. I could see the bottle shaking in my hands. I dropped it, not caring where it went. Gripping my blanket even tighter around me as I lay down, my knife still in my hand. Finally being able to rest my head on something that wasn’t a hard floor. I don’t care that I can feel the springs in the cushions. I was so tired and sick. I couldn’t keep my eyes open any more. No matter how hard I fought it. I needed rest so I let myself sleep.

~~~~~~~

A loud bang woke me from my sleep, but I couldn't move. My body was so heavy. I couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to see if it was one of the dead or not. I was still shaking to the point where it hurt even more. My bones are sore from, well, everything. My knife was no longer in my hand. I must have dropped it in my sleep.

I could hear footsteps getting closer to me. I opened my eyes just enough to see the sun was up, shining through the windows. A figure walked into the door frame. I can barely make out a man holding something. It was pointed at me. 

“You bit?!” The voice was stern, southern and loud. 

I close my eyes, not able to keep them opened any longer. “N-no. Sick.” 

“Sick, how?” 

My lips quiver as I try to speak, “Fr-from a cold. I-i had fr-from the begin-beginning.” 

“Is it just you?” He was demanding an answer. 

I nod, too tired to answer. 

I felt a hand being placed on my forehead. His fingers were cold and rough. 

“Ya burin up.” 

I grip my blanket closer, “So-so cold.” 

I hear things moving around. I couldn't tell if he was taking my stuff or looking around the place. I didn’t care either way. 

“My camp has a Doctor. ‘M take ya to him,” Before I could answer him, I could feel his arms snaking under me. He grabs my arm and places it over his shoulder. Picking me up from the couch. With my blanket still gripped in my hands, I wrapped my arms tighter around him. Scared to fall. 

“Gonna make me hot,” He says in my ears.

He started to walk. I opened my eyes enough to see who this man was. His face was a little dirty, with some facial hair around his mouth. His hair was short and filled with sweat. His eyes were sharp, looking at everything around him.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. 

He looked down at me for a second, and his eyes were a sharp blue that when the sun was shining just right, it made them shine a beautiful sky blue. 

My eyelids were getting heavy again so I closed them and fell asleep to the sound of his breathing and the morning birds chirping.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Is that Sophia?!” A women screams, waking me up just enough to hear whats going on around me.

“Nah, just some girl I found. She sick.” I hear from above me. The man that was caring me.  

“Bit?” Another man spoke.

“Said it’s some cold.” He held onto me tight as he got closer to the people

“Bring her inside. I’ll take a look at her.” 

I was still too tired to speak. I fell back into my deep sleep. To a place that was safe. 

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #norman reedus #rick grimes #twd #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #oc x daryl dixon

[yandere-sins]

Consequences

I’ve been playing with this idea for a while but I wasn’t sure how to properly use it. But it worked well with this prompt!! Enjoy ^-^

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland   Pairings: Yandere!Malleus Draconia x GN!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Imprisonment, Dependency

Prompt:  @sintember You got yourself into this mess - It is your fault, but did you deserve this? Could anyone?

»»———————— ♡ ————————««    

Footsteps resounded heavily through the hallways outside the cell you were locked away in. They marched by your door, sometimes hectically in a trot, other times trying to be quiet. You were wringing your hands, stalking back and forth just as nervously as the students outside seemed to be. Everyone in the whole dorm seemed to be on edge after what you did. It was your fault, and they had to clean up your mess, leaving you with a feeling that made your stomach churn.

It had already been two days since you went into hiding, Diasomnia doing you a great service by shielding you from the powers raging outside. All you had wanted to do was take a stroll around the forest, take deep breaths and enjoy your time outdoors. A change of scenery, as some might call it, completely different from your desk and books that you hovered over all week. You had been careless, leaving the trail and scavenging the forest alone. Stumbling into a fairy circle may have been the smallest evil you could have met.

Small in comparison? Yes. Any less bad? No.

With your lungs completely destroyed by the frantic breaths you took as you ran back to NRC and straight through the portal, you immediately collapsed before Malleus, wheezing as you clawed at his pants. You barely managed to voice your problem, everyone staring at you as if you were insane, half alert of your closeness to their housewarden. But when you finally managed to cry out the words, "I stepped into a fairy circle!" Malleus's features grew into knowing concern as he gripped you by the shoulders, picking you up and pulling your shaking legs into the dungeon below the dorm, where he locked you in a cell and took the key with him.

You presumed Malleus was taking care of the matter as you paced nervously. He hadn't spoken to you to tell you the next steps. Though he had handled you gently and taken on the responsibility as it seemed, his concern for you only made you worry more. Not even Lilia slipping you a meal the night before had spoken up about what was happening outside your cell, and you never saw so much seriousness on his face before. Being locked up inside the cell and losing your mind seemed like a small punishment for the trouble you had caused. This island wasn't under Malleus's jurisdiction, and it probably was no small feat convincing the other fae folk ruling here to be merciful to a dumb human who made a mistake. You had to put all your hope into Malleus, even though you were tearing your hair out from not knowing what would happen.

All the horror stories about fairy circles became much too real for you too quickly. You still remembered the pull you felt, the invisible force trying to snatch you from this world and deliver you to your new, temporary home, where you'd dance until your mind or body gave up, much to the amusement of the fairies. Even now, far, far away from the circle, you felt it tug at you. Had the door not been locked, you didn't know what would have happened. What you would have done. It was pathetic for a student of magic not to know better. Not to be more careful! But what happened, happened. You already felt terrible, no scolding could affect you anymore.

Spending the better part of that day alone in your dark, cold cell, eventually, your legs gave out, forcing you to sit down on the wooden plank that was your bed and take a moment to rest. Concentrating on your breathing, you managed to calm down a little. But once you did, you heard the slow and steady steps approaching your cell. Steps unlike the hectic and careful ones of the students, but possessing a graceful and confident stride.

Immediately, you jumped up again on wobbly knees, and your cell door was unlocked only moments later. You briefly saw Silver and Sebek before Malleus brushed by them, entering your small cell and closing the door behind him. The moment of silence was slowly choking you as your eyes met, your expectancy reflected in his. What was he going to say? Would you still have to be sacrificed to the fairies? Was it all over for you?

"I convinced them to leave you alone."

With a shuddering breath, you sank to your knees, tears flooding your eyes and spilling as you buried your face in your palms. You were shaking uncontrollably as you sobbed in relief, and when you felt Malleus's hand fall to your shoulder reassuringly as he took a knee next to you, you subconsciously reached for him, pulling him into a tight hug. He returned it after initial hesitation, brushing his second hand down your back reassuringly while letting you cry into his coat. A great honor for someone normal like you to have the heir comfort you.

"But they had some conditions," he eventually added, ruining the moment as your relief instantly turned into worry. You pushed away from him, apologizing under your breath. Wiping the tears from your eyes, Malleus assisted you, eventually curling his fingers under your chin to pull your head up and face him. Demanding your full attention on what he had to tell you, you gulped, knowing you'd not like to hear these conditions he had to agree on.

"You'll have to write an apology letter to them for stepping into their circle and…" Malleus hesitated, his sharp, green eyes staring right into your soul as he let his gaze drift from one of your eyes to the other. His hesitation did nothing to reassure you. It only made the tension you felt throughout your body all the worse. If there was some grave punishment you had to undergo, you didn't want to start the torture with him prolonging your sentencing.

"Please…" you whispered ruefully, slowly lowering your gaze to not impolitely stare at the housewarden any longer. Even if you had forgotten your position a couple of times while in his presence, there was no reason to disrespect your savior any more than you already had. "I will do it. I accept whatever they want me to do. So, just tell me, Housewarden."

You didn't see how, for a split second, Malleus's features turned surprised before satisfaction spread through him, a smile crossing him so briefly it was already gone by the time you looked up again expectantly. He tried to put up a serious expression, having mastered keeping his composure at all times to not give away what he felt. Inhaling deeply, he nodded, partly in understanding where you were coming from but also in respect for you to accept your punishment without complaints.

Gripping you by your arms again, Malleus pulled you up into a stand. One arm reached around you, steading you on your still-shaking legs. The other one held your hand. Squeezing it in a way your attention would shift from surprise about all these comforting gestures back to focusing on what he had to say, you didn't even register that Malleus was holding your hands in his ever so gently as if to say he wasn't going to leave you alone in this.

"They demanded from me to take responsibility for you. As such, you will have to transfer to Diasomnia and study alongside me, effective immediately. You won't be allowed to leave my side so I can supervise you until the fairies' anger at you subsides."

It was a tough pill to swallow, your eyes widening in surprise. One might say it was an honor that Malleus had accepted these conditions involving him. You felt incredibly bad to be burdening him any more, using his goodwill, as some may call it. But at the same time, tending to the housewarden and waiting on him seemed almost as time-consuming as dancing your sanity and life away at the fairies. Your time in this world, at least.

"When… when do you think they'll forgive me?" you asked, wondering if you could possibly take a few semesters off your studies. How else could you possibly manage your own classes and Malleus's at the same time? Accompany him on his trips and whatever he did all day. You didn't even know how much of your time and life he would consume. He had always been so unreachable before it had been hard to truly grasp what his life was like. Even though he had been the one to come to mind in your misery, you didn't really know him at all. And aside from the glances, he seemed to throw at you whenever you met him around the college, he probably didn't know much about you either, much less cared. You must have been a real inconvenience to him, no doubt.

"Ah," he mumbled, taking back one hand to tap his fingers against his lips, eyes closing as he seemed to be deep in thought over your question. "Fairies don't usually forgive someone so easily. It'll probably take a few…"

Days? Weeks? Months?

"Well, what do you say?" he suddenly changed the topic, his expression growing softer as he looked at you with what you could only describe as fondness. Perhaps he wasn't so against the idea of having you around? "I am sure we'll have lots of fun together."

Furrowing your brows, you were quite taken aback by the sudden change. What choice did you really have? If you said no, you had no doubts Malleus had to hand you over to the fairies to keep the peace with them, which would cost you your life. It was a true predicament, but compared to death, Malleus's condition seemed simple and genuinely kind.

"Yes… yes, of course," you agreed, nodding and lowering your head politely. It felt more like you were taking on a job to pay off your debt, but what's done was done. A promise to a fae, even to someone as gracious as Malleus, couldn't be taken lightly either, but you thought it was the right choice.

"So be it!" he declared, sounding exalted. His one hand, still holding yours, squeezed tightly, the door opening behind him as he tugged at your limb, prompting you to follow. Silver and Sebek stood guard outside, and you had no doubt they heard you cry and agree to the promise, which made you both embarrassed and also bound you to your word.

"How long will it take for them to forgive me… what do you think?" you rephrased your question from before as you followed after Malleus, his gait having an unusual spring in his step. "Don't worry about it, Child of Man," he replied dismissively, but catching a glimpse of the side of his face, you saw him smiling uncharacteristically wide from ear to ear. He, at least, didn't seem bothered or disturbed in the slightest, his hand never leaving you.

"Usually, they forgive trespassing in a little less than, let me think…"

Well, compared to you, he was taking it with grace. Maybe you were overthinking it, and things would work out just fine. If Malleus wasn't concerned, then why should you be?

"Mhm, I'm sure a few decades will be enough to repent."

Well, shit.

#malleus #malleus twst #malleus draconia #Twisted Wonderland #TWST #TWST Wonderland #Disney TWST #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere!twisted wonderland #yandere malleus #yandere twst #yandere!Malleus #yandere!twst #disney twisted wonderland #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #Sintember 2022 #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[xjustakay]

prompt: crown — 490 words (the prince and the stable boy; barely implied sexual content) @jegulus-microfic

Regulus knows he shouldn’t be down in the stables this late, but the note slipped to him earlier in the night was too tempting. Specifically because of who it came from.

“You look tense, your highness.”

Regulus whips toward the familiar voice.

It’s bloody indecent, the way James has the loose sleeves of his shirt pushed up to his elbows, half the buttons down his chest undone, too much of his lovely sun-kissed skin on display. Regulus presses his tongue into his cheek as his gaze flickers over the smattering of dark hair left exposed by James’ wide open collar. It takes work to drift his focus back up to James’ face and he doesn’t miss the knowing smirk when he gets there.

“Heavy is the head that bears the crown and all that, hm?” Regulus replies, sighing airily.

James hums shortly. “I think you have to want the crown in order to bear it properly.”

“That’s not true. I bear plenty of things I don’t actually want anything to do with.” Regulus moves to lean back against the stable wall, brows lifting as he makes sure his eyes remain on James’ face. “You, for instance.”

“And yet here you are, meeting with me after dark.” James clicks his tongue, cocking his head to the side. “Unchaperoned, no less.”

“Perhaps I just needed a bit of air.”

“Or, perhaps you like breaking the rules.”

“Well, that’s certainly more of a possibility than liking you, isn’t it?”

James grins dangerously, tracing his tongue along the edge of his top teeth. When Regulus arches one brow, James laughs with a shake of his head.

“No, no, by all means, continue to deflect a bit more.” He steps nearer still until he stops right in front of him. “I can help you out of that hole you’re digging yourself into whenever you like, love.”

All thought is lost the moment James eases fully into him, the heat of their bodies nearly pressed together a pleasant sort of overwhelming. James leans one hand against the wall beside Regulus’ head, halfway caging him in. His other hand brushes a dark curl from Regulus’ forehead then traces down the sharp line of his jaw. 

Caving to the dismissal of their typical game, Regulus grasps at the front of James’ open shirt, knuckles pressing into heated skin when he tugs. James drops his hand from Regulus’ jaw to his waist, touching their foreheads together.

“The loft?” Regulus whispers.

James nods, their noses brushing. “Cleaned it up just for you.”

“I’ve got hours, just have to be back to my room before sunrise.” He punctuates the statement with a slow, lingering kiss that sends his heart racing.

“Oh, my sweet prince, you’re spoiling me tonight,” James murmurs playfully between pressing another kiss to his mouth.

Regulus revels in the shiver that shakes down James’ spine when he eases back to promise, “Not yet, darling, but I will be.”

#jegulus #starchaser #microfic #kay’s writing #me? writing jegulus sneaking around? never. unheard of. #love them in every universe fr #kay’s microfics

[griffin-girl-r]

I need her

Created: 17.10.2021

Finished: 10.05.2022

Edited: 12.09.2023

Age: 19

Word count: 2,758

Warnings: Endgame, Death, Fainting

Request: No

Summary: Five years after Natasha disappears in the snap, you sacrifice yourself to bring her back.

—

When Natasha disappeared in the snap you were crushed.

Your mom had been the only constant thing in your life since the moment you were born and now, she was just gone as well as half of the population of the Universe.

For the first time in your life, you were truly alone.

When she turned to dust in your arms in the middle of the battlefield you had no idea what you should do first. Cry? Scream? Get up and fight to bring her back?

So you decided to not give up until you would bring everyone back, including your mother.

—

That's what you have done for the past five years.

You lost count of the sleepless nights when you did nothing else but research in order to find a solution.

When your uncle Scott came up with the whole time traveling idea you were the first one to agree.

After five years you felt hope and happiness again. You had the chance to bring Natasha back.

—

And now here you were, hanging from the side of a cliff, while the man who had been like a father to you tried to hold your hand to prevent you from falling.

You had fought on who should be the one jumping and as expected a Romanoff never loses.

"Y/N, no..." Clint begged, with tears in his eyes "What am I supposed to tell your mother if this works?! Please don't do it."

"It's okay, Uncle Clint. I'm not scared. Just, please, tell my mom how much I love her and also tell her that I fought for her as she did for me. I will see you guys one day again. I'm sure of it." You sadly smiled at him and kicked yourself off the cliff

You felt nothing as your body hit the bottom, only darkness. Your mom being the last thought in your mind.

Clint had to look away from the sick sight in front of him. You were the daughter of the person he considered his sister. Even more than that, you were like his daughter. He always used to say that you are his oldest daughter because he was there for you even before you were born. In some way, you were his first kid, even if the only love he felt for your mom was the sibling one.

How is he going to deliver this news to Natasha? How is he going to tell her that the child she left behind was gone forever? It would crush her down.

—

But the moment he feared the most was here.

The battle was over and everyone was back.

His best friend too.

Natasha had looked all over the battlefield to, at least, catch a glimpse of you. She couldn't wait to hold you in her arms again.

No one dared to tell her that you died to bring her back. So they just got back to the compound in silence, after they fought and won, since the recent loss of Tony affected them all.

"How many months have we been missing?" Natasha asked as she entered the livingroom

"Not months, Nat... Years..." Steve sighed

"What-" Her jaw dropped

"You have been gone for five years, Natasha. Five whole years." Steve looked at his feet

"Oh my God... Y/N... She's almost- She's almost..." Nat was too stunned to talk properly

"She's 19 almost 20 years old. Yes..." Steve confirmed

Natasha felt her heart drop. She had perfectly missed all of your teenage years. She missed one of the most important five years of your life.

"W-Where is she? Where is my daughter? I want to see her. How is she?" The woman started to run around, trying to find you

She bolted to your room. Empty. Then hers. Empty, but looking exactly the same way she had left it.

What was left of the team was running after her, trying to calm her down, when suddenly, Natasha came face to face with a wall. But not the wall stopped the former spy. No. The framed photo hunged on it did.

She saw a face she didn't know.

A young, tall woman, with a big grin on her face. Athletic body and defined facial features, with long red hair just like her own natural hair.

Natasha felt something familiar for the young woman in the picture, who looked so much like her. But she couldn't understand what.

"Who is this?" She pointed to the photo, confused

"You don't recognize her?" Bruce asked shocked

"No. I-" Then Natasha's eyes looked into the girl's eyes and froze. She was met with the same green eyes, she sees every time her daughter would come to her mind. It can't be what she is thinking. Can it? "Y/N?" Nat's voice broke as she whispered her daughter's name

"Yeah, Nat. It's her. We took this photo a few weeks ago." Steve took a step toward his friend "After Scott proposed the idea to travel back in time and bring everyone back."

Nat chuckled as tears fell down her cheeks "Hah... Look how big she is. She grew up so much." She said in awe "She's beautiful."

Sadly, her moment was interrupted by Clint.

"She was..." He spoke to her for the first time since she came back

Natasha turned towards him "What do you mean, Clint?! What do you want to say with 'was'? Did something happen to her? Is my daughter alright?"

Panic was starting to take over her as the silence grew longer.

"Answer me, damn it!" Natasha shouted

"She's gone! Okay?" Clint yelled back "She is dead. She died to bring you and everyone else back. She sacrificed herself."

"No, no, no, no. It-It can't be... You're lying. This can't be true. It just can't!" She cried out

"I'm sorry, Nat. It's my fault. It should have been me, but she was faster." Clint avoided looking in her eyes "To be able to take the soul stone, a sacrifice needed to be done. A soul for a soul. And Y/N was her mother's daughter. She had to win at any cost."

The woman broke down sobbing and slowly curled up in a ball on the ground.

"All this time I just dreamed of having her back in my arms again, to hold her and to hear her sweet voice calling me 'Mama' once again. Life can't do this to me. After everything I've been through since I was a child, I thought that I could finally be happy with my baby girl. My miracle. My angel that brought life and joy where there couldn't have been none. My only baby..."

The team was too afraid to move. They just let her cry her pain. Being at a loss of words when it came to comforting a mother who just lost her child.

After some time of crying, Natasha stood up, took the picture with her baby from the wall, and headed straight to your room, locking herself inside.

They all just let her stay there and occasionally checked on her and brought her food.

—

Time passed and the big day arrived.

The day Steve was going to return the stones.

Once again he tried to take Nat out of your room with no success.

He left. But instead of Steve being the one to land on the platform, everyone was shocked to see you standing there, dusting your clothes.

"Remind me to never go "body" jumping ever again." You joked as you got tickled to the ground by Sam and Bucky

"How are you here? Where's Steve?" They questioned you at the same time

"I honestly don't know. It seems that the exchange worked the other way around too and about Uncle Steve, he said he has some work to do. An old business to take care of." You shrugged "I guess we won?"

"We did, kid." Bucky said smiling

"Mama?" You hopefully looked at the men

"She's in your room, mourning after you. The news of your death really broke her." Bruce told you

You nodded and took off running in the direction of your room, flashing one last smile in the men's direction.

—

"Natasha, come on. Open this door. If you stay locked in here forever it won't bring Y/N back. She wouldn't want you to live like this. She sacrificed herself for you to be able to live a full and happy life." Clint tried again to convince Nat to get out of your room

It was a daily routine now. Clint was sitting outside your room and talked with your mother trying to make her leave that room. But all his attempts failed as he received the same answer every day.

"I can't be happy anymore, Clint. Without her, I have no reason to live. I'm empty inside. I need her." Natasha recited the words that Clint grew tired to hear

Usually, he would give up after this and leave her alone but today he had other ideas.

"You know?" Clint sat on the ground with his back supported by the door "She told me to tell you something and I'm sorry I haven't told you her words until now."

From inside the room, Clint could hear a few sounds and he could feel a soft bang on the other side of the door meaning that Natasha just placed herself in the same position as Clint on the other side of the door.

Clint took this as his signal to keep talking.

"She said she loves you. She asked me to remind you that she fought for you, as you did for her. And she wasn't scared. She smiled while telling me that she's not scared to die for you." Clint teared up at the painful memory

After she breathlessly listened to Clint, Nat finally opened her mouth again.

"She said that?!" Her voice cracked

"Yes, she did, Nat. That's why I know that‐" Clint's trail of words was interrupted when you showed up at the end of the hall

The man actually rubbed his eyes waiting for you to disappear but instead, you started running towards him with a bright smile on your face.

"Please don't hurt me because I didn't take care of your mother." Clint covered his face with his hands "I don't want you to take me with you yet."

"Oh, Uncle Clint. Still as silly as always." You laughed as you moved his arms away from his face with your hand

Clint could feel the touch and never felt more afraid and confused.

"Y-Y/N? How? You're really here?" He mumbled under his breath

"Uncle Steve took care of it. Thanks to him I'm back now. More alive than ever." You smiled as you leaned to hug him

Clint shared the hug, still not completely understanding what was happening.

"Can I have a moment with my mom, please?" You pulled back after a few seconds of hugging "I promise I'll explain everything you want to know later."

Clint nodded and left, but not before he told you "I'm proud of you, kid. You're a hero. Most importantly, you are your mother's hero."

—

Taking a deep breath, you quickly went over what you are going to tell Natasha when she sees you.

Knocking on the door, you received no response. You knocked again and again and again.

"What do you want Clint?!" Natasha snapped from behind the door thinking Clint was annoying her again

"It's me, Mama. It's Y/N. Your baby." You softly answered her

The door was opened with the speed of light and a shocked and distressed Natasha appeared in front of you.

'Say something.' You thought 'You wanted to have her here. Now do something.'

Natasha froze in place, immediately going pale, as all the air was knocked out of her lungs and her legs gave up on her.

You quickly reached forward when your mom started to fall and caught her just in time.

"Mama! Mama! Come on, Mama. Look at me. Just look at me. You're okay. I'm here. I'm here..." You whisper-shouted as you lightly shook Natasha's head

When the dizziness passed a little, Natasha fully opened her eyes and saw your full of concerned eyes staring at her face.

She could not believe it. It must be some kind of sick trick that her mind was playing on her. You can't be here. Can you?

'No!' Natasha shouted inside her head 'She's dead Natasha. Accept that. She's not coming back. She's not coming back...'

"Yeah..." You smiled when you saw her looking at you "Look at me. Look!" You took her soft hand and gently held it to your cheek "You feel that? I'm here. Just feel me. Please say something, Mama."

You were not real and yet Natasha could feel you.

She felt your warm cheek against her palm. She could see the life in your eyes and the loving look you were giving her. She could hear your soft breath as her head rested against the rise and fall of your chest. She could see the slight smile on your lips and she could hear your, more mature, voice whispering sweet things to her.

Is it really all just her imagination?

The woman slowly started to caress your face with her fingers, trying to reassure herself that this is not an illusion.

"Y/N..." She finally whispered your name in disbelief

"It's me, Mama." You nodded "I'm back and you are too. I've missed you so much."

With that, you leaned and kissed her head.

This was the moment your mother finally realized that you are not a ghost or the product of her imagination and wrapped her arms very tightly around you, afraid you would slip away.

"M-my baby! My little girl." Natasha sobbed out "Oh, my Y/N."

After her cries were reduced to sniffles and silent tears, you wiggled your way out of Natasha's embrace and looked at her.

"Are you feeling okay? Do you think you could stand? Or do you want me to carry you?" You asked her

"I'm okay. The last time I was with you, I was the one able to carry you. Not the other way around."

You chuckled and slowly helped Natasha stand up on her feet. Allowing her to support onto you and leading her to the bed.

"You've grown up so much. You're even taller than me. How dare you grow up so much without me being here to watch you? How dare you die just to bring me back? How could you possibly think that I could live without you?!" Natasha cried as you two took a sit on the bed

"I'm so sorry for growing, Mama. I couldn't control it. But I'm not sorry for dying to bring you back. I know you would have done the same thing for me and I couldn't live with myself if I knew I had the chance to bring you back and I didn't take it. You can be mad at me or whatever but I don't regret it."

Natasha looked at you, tears streaming down her face and she, again, pulled you in a hug.

"I thought I would never see you again. I missed you so much. You have no idea how much I needed you." You whispered into her shoulder

"Mama's got you, baby. I'm here now, we both are. Everything is going to be okay. Please never do this to me again. I can't live without you." Natasha kissed the side of your head

"Can we finally live that life we always wanted for us? Just us two, spending as much time together as we can without having to go on missions again." You proposed

"Yes, we can sweetheart." Natasha smiled at you "I don't want to miss any other moments from your life. You're all I have. Without you I have nothing. I am nothing."

—

After everything that had happened, Natasha Romanoff has finally found peace and true happiness.

But not in the way she expected when she was young.

She used to believe that she could have peace only if she died but you have shown Natasha that she was wrong all along.

You both had finally found peace and happiness in being in each other's life without any war or monster that was waiting to attack from the dark.

Mother and daughter were together again. And none of you planned on losing each other.

#mama nat #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha x daughter!reader #natasha's child #natasha's kid #natasha romanoff x teen!reader #natasha x teen reader #natasha x baby!reader

[hanasnx]

this is my first time sending you something 🙈 but i saw that your anniversary is coming up (very exciting!) and the prompts you reblogged 😵‍💫 if it’s possible, i would love prompts #43 and/or #54 for han !! keep up the great work, you’re an amazing writer :) ❣️

prompt: #43

prompt list | rules

minors dni 18+

word count: 0.8k | characters: han solo x f!reader

notes:

hello and welcome! its great to have you, thank you for requesting and for enjoying my content. it took me a while to find prompts that interested me (i like to think im a bit edgier when it comes to smut) and those ones just spoke to me you know? looks like they spoke to you too

thank you so much for requesting han i never get requests for him and i love exploring him

warnings: established relationship, mention of long hair and a skirt on reader, impatient reader ordering han around and hes liking sitting back and letting you do your thing, you try to fit his cock too early and hes worried ab you,

“Hey, kid, what’s the rush?” your lover, Han, thinly veils his amusement, but you are unperturbed. You grip onto his shirt as you back him up until the backs of his knees hit a chair, and you sit him down.

“Need you so bad,” you breathe, swift to undo his belt while his hands are suspended in air, as if surrendering to you and your demands. Obediently, he shifts his hips forward, allowing you to slide his belt off and get at his pants. His heavy member, half hardened by your impatience, lay nestled in his inseam, awaiting you.

All day, all day, you’d been counting down the seconds until you could get back to him. A horrid and insatiable lust afflicting you like an illness as soon as you woke up next to him. Unfortunately, there wasn’t any time. Both of you had somewhere to be, and the entire appointment, Han made it a mission to screw with you any chance he got. Brushing your hair off your shoulder, murmuring an inherently chaste statement against your ear to run shivers down your spine, and pulling you into dark corners to kiss and feel you up. Little things that he knew drove you crazy.

Now here you are, right where he wants you, right where he expected you to be: ripping his fucking clothes apart until you uncover exactly what you need. You lick your lips, seizing the base of his shaft to help shimmy it out of his garment, feeling it grow under your touch. “Can’t wait to ride you, you have no fucking idea,” The tail end of the phrase surfacing into a whine more than anything else as you hike up your skirt. Han watches you with interest, arms remain at the rests, as you invite yourself onto him. Tucking your knees between him and the chair, and moving your panties aside. His lips part, exhaling in awe as the light catches on your glisten so beautifully.

“Wet, huh?” he inquires with a playful tone you don’t care for at all. Not when your skin is on fire and your hole is screaming at you to be filled. You can’t answer him, lining yourself up. “Hold on, sweets,” he interjects, moving to insert his hand between your bodies to grasp himself, readying to introduce it to you in increments. “I don’t doubt you can take it but let’s think about this for a second—“ In the past, if you get too wrapped up and don’t properly prep yourself, Han’s formidable cock is capable of actual damage. He’s looking out for you (not a luxury he always affords) but the fact is: you want it to hurt.

“Enough of that, give it to me. I want it, Han, right now,”

The expression on your face, the hopeless tilting of your hips, inclining into the direction of his crotch. He can’t say no to those eyes.

A pause to think it over, interrupted by your grasp on his shirt tightening. Your longing apparent in your every action. He relaxes. “You got me, princess,” he concedes, but quickly adds while holding up a single finger, “but don’t get ahead of yourself.”

There’s not a moment to waste, as soon as he directs his cock to you, you sink onto it. That stinging stretch causing a groan of sheer relief spilling from your mouth. Han tongues his top lip, gathering himself at how fucking tight you are, sheathed into you so exquisitely. Involuntarily you clench, and the breath he was holding is released in a chuff.

“Sweetheart, easy.” he warns. You’re not even halfway on him, but you’re still pushing it. His growing worry is difficult to nail down when you feel this fucking good around him. His head lulls back as he tenses his hips, inching into you and that comfortable relief within you is replaced with burning desire. The entire situation only loosens you, and when his hand seeks out your clit, thumbing it, you’re able to descend until he’s snug inside. “So warm, so soft, fuck, sweets. Could be stuck up in here all damn night.”

Without admonition, you lift yourself and he picks his head up to exchange a look with you. You’re about to do what he told you not to, but it’s not in your nature to follow his orders indefinitely. You slam down onto him, and your walls clench around him from the speed. You can’t help yourself, accelerating, and he meets your thrusts until his hand abandons your clit— to which you respond with a petulant squeak of discontent— so he can dig both sets of fingers and nails into your thighs. The pain doesn’t deter you, but his infallible strength does, wrangling you into submission, taking control of your speed. “Han—“ It seems he did not appreciate your disregard for his commands.

So he reiterates, making it clearer for you while you futilely tug off his digits. “Slowly, baby, I’m not going anywhere.” A transparent attempt to torture you still, to elongate your rapture to span the entire night, just as he forebode.

#ch: han #indy: drabbles #han solo drabble #prompt list answer #anon #thanks for the msg!! #han solo prompt #han solo x reader #han solo smut #x f!reader #reader insert #han solo x reader smut #han x reader #han solo imagine #star wars smut #han solo x you #han solo x f!reader #star wars original trilogy #han

[hahnspoetrywrites]

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby (Lanfear x fem!reader)

A/N: I CAN'T BE STOPPED!! title is inspired by the song by cigarettes after sex (mainly bc i couldn't think of a title)

Warnings: blood, torture (kind of), Moghedien being a baddie, mentions of being crushed.

The air seemed to have a frantic buzz of excitement within it. Rand had proclaimed himself as the Dragon Reborn, Lanfear’s  plan was working out perfectly. The next step was to dump the cuendillar pieces into the depths of the ocean. As she headed towards where they’d been stored, she planned it out in her head. Master Domon had agreed to help her, so that was no longer an issue. As she entered the room, the buzz died quickly as she noticed the cuendillar pieces had all been shattered, releasing the rest of the Forsaken out into the world. Lanfear’s face morphed into shock as the room suddenly went dark. Her shock and fear deepend when she noticed you, trapped inside a tight spider web trap, gently crushing your body. 

“L-Lanfear?” You croaked.

“It’s alright, baby.” Lanfear tried to reassure you but even she couldn’t keep herself calm. 

“Softly, softly, from the shadows,” Gentle whispering filled the room, repeating the same phrase until another woman was in the room with them, sitting down in a wooden chair next to you in front of Lanfear. She giggled at Lanfear’s shocked expression, fear slowly creeping it but keeping hidden as much as possible.

“Softly, softly,” She repeated and Lanfear knew who it was, all too well.

“Moghedien.” 

Moghedien chuckled, watching Lanfear’s face try to keep itself composed.

“Ishamael let us out. All of us. He had a sneaking suspicion you would betray him,” Moghedien’s face was scarily bright, a mischievous smile never leaving as Lanfear glanced at the rest of the broken cuendillar, wondering where the rest of them were. 

“Where are the others?” She asked, Moghedien shrugged. Lanfear attempted to attack but found herself caught in her own spider web trap, her attempt to channel backfiring and cutting her hand slightly before Moghedien tightened it. 

“No- Lanfear!” You tried to call out for her but your trap tightened, making it hard for you to breathe properly, feeling the tight web cut into your body. You groaned in pain, watching as Lanfear’s breathing picked up. You wished there was more you could do to reassure her you would be okay, but you couldn’t keep yourself calm either. 

“You and Ishamael were always too close to the Dragon. Far too close,” Moghedien stood from her chair and approached you, smiling gleefully at your pained expression.

“The rest of us don’t share that failing.” She continued as she pressed the web deeper into your hand, blood seeping wounds created by the pressure. You choked down a painful cry, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. 

“Leave her out of this, she has nothing to do with this.” Lanfear begged, not wanting to see you in any more pain. It hurt her enough that the rest of them knew of your existence, but physically hurting you was far too much for her to endure. 

“Oh, but she’s your little plaything… she’s got no choice but to be involved now.” She pulled a web between two fingers, tightening yours once more so you shrieked, a never ending pain searing through your body. 

“‘Softly, softly, from the shadows.’ That’s what you always said about me, isn’t it? That I was too cautious, too afraid, too weak.” Moghendien’s voice was merely a whisper as she approached Lanfear, dropping half of the web away so she could get close to her, leaning in to smell her scent as Lanfear sneered at her. 

“You don’t want to fight me.” Lanfear warned, but Moghedien laughed.

“Mmmh, this is not a fight. This is a warning. When I strike I don’t miss.” Moghedien’s face dropped all humour, taking on a menacing look that made Lanfear want to cower away. Only when she looked over at you, in pain with tears cascading down your cheeks, did she remember she needed to stay strong, for you. 

“Stay away from him, Lanfear. He’s ours now. All five of them are. Maybe even six… if you don’t keep your little one safe.” Moghedien glanced over at you, smiling menacingly once more at the state of pain you were in. She rebuilt Lanfear’s web before slowly walking backwards away from her, all the while whispering the same thing over and over.

“Softly, softly. Softly, softly…” Until she disappeared from the room. Light flooded the room as the two webs released their prey. You fell to the floor once it was gone, your body overwhelmed by everything as Lanfear rushed to comfort you. You sobbed as she wrapped her arms around you, letting you sob into her chest as she tried to understand what had happened. All she knew was that none of you were safe. She knew the one thing she held dear to her heart was almost ripped away from her… you. 

“I’m sorry, my angel. I’m so so sorry,” She continually apologised, her hand soothing your head gently. You gripped her jacket tightly in your hands, the blood seeping from them a second thought as you grounded yourself with her hold. You kept telling yourself you were fine, Lanfear was here and you’d be okay. Lanfear’s tears dropped onto your head, her fear taking over as her breathing picked up. You moved away from her chest to face her, watching her eyes flood with tears caused your heart to break. You pressed your forehead against hers, taking her hands into your own as you tried to keep the pair of you calm and grounded. 

“It’s okay… Lanfear, we’re okay. Honey, I promise.” You calmly reassured her, watching her nod through her sporadic sobs. 

“Y-yeah. We’ll be okay. You’re okay, you’re all okay, baby. You’re okay.” Lanfear kept repeating it, needing to cement it in her brain that you were okay. 

“What should we do?” You asked her gently. Her eyes focused on yours, the softness of them, their beautiful colour. She couldn’t bear to see the life in them disappear. 

“I don’t know, but I know that I need to keep you safe, away from here. Away from them. Light help you, Rand Al’Thor.” 

That’s how you knew she was scared. She never asked the Light for help, ever. Your stomach dropped as you realised this situation was more dangerous than you originally believed. 

“Mog- Moghedien was- is - a Forsaken, how many of them are there?” You asked. 

“Thirteen. Thirteen including Ishamael and I, but Ishamael has been dealt with. I didn’t think he’d release them all.” Lanfear glanced over at the broken cuendillar pieces once more, still in disbelief he let them all out. 

“I want to help, wherever and however I can. Please, Lanfear. I’m on your side no matter what.” Lanfear smiled at you before pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. 

“I need to keep you safe, my angel.” She kissed you once more, allowing her power to flow through you and heal your wounds. 

“I know a cabin we can lay low in for a little while, we can keep to ourselves and spend some time together.” And she could secretly channel some protection weaves over and around you when you’re asleep so she can know for sure you’ll be safe.

“I like the sound of that,” You muttered gently before she channelled, her arms holding you tightly as she took you both to your new home. Y felt safe, knowing you had your Forsaken by your side and she had her angel, you’d both be safe and loved. That was enough. For now.

#lanfear #lanfear x fem!reader #lanfear x reader #natasha o'keeffe #wheel of time fic