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adventuringblind · 2 months

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Monsters in my Mind

Max Verstappen x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Sometimes those thoughts won't leave, the ones you don't want... The ones that can be dangerous. All it takes is one person to help make them go away.

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, referenced/implied self-harm, violent thoughts, impulsive behaviors, panic attacks, non-sexual dominance as a form of coping, dom/sub undertones

Notes: My thoughts are self stabby as of late. Pardon me as I write this for myself to keep my head and hands busy.

Side Note: Consider feeding my praise kink maybe...?

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The head is a strange place. One's conscious is usually meant to help them make the right decisions and not engage in acts that could hurt them or others. Her head, however, is the opposite of that.

It's a dark twisted place where thoughts that aren't her own find refuge. They want to bathe her in the ecstasy of things that shouldn't feel good. daydreams about things that could repulse any typical human being.

Sometimes they are so strong and her bodies reactions are so out of control, that she has to find relief somewhere. The knife against her skin takes the edge off. Is it normal to moan at the sting and feel satisfied looking at her red stained thighs? She does, until the realization settles in and the guilt won't let her think.

The thoughts laugh at her for giving in so easily. They scrutinize the fact she gets off on the pain.

She walks around in fear of herself. The anxiety and exhaustion from constantly fighting herself are visible on her body. She's tired, and everyone knows it. It's why they don't come near her. Always to caught up in her own head to realize people are trying converse.

It's not like her job requires to much discussion with people. Puzzles keep her brain busy and Ferrari keeps her busy with all the strategy mishaps they throw at her. They throw her a problem, she solves it, plans for next time, and they fuck it up again by not using the solution.

Sometimes she thinks about throwing herself in front of an F1 car going full speed. That voice in her head screams at her anytime she's close to the live track.

Then there is Max. His voice sends the thoughts running and it makes her want to cling to him. She wants him to never stop talking about anything and everything.

Today had been particularly difficult with the of the driver switch coming at the end of the season. Carlos and Charles are the first drivers she's worked with and they all got along great. She doesn't want it to change. That means more unknowns.

The wind graces her cheeks and kisses her finger tips as she sits on the balcony of their apartment. Everything is to much right now and her thoughts won't quiet.

She was in Maranello when the news came out. Her head became so loud with the fear of change and worry for her friend. Enough to be sent home for the day - alone, and nothing to help her head aside from the burning desire to just end it all.

Max had made arraignments for her to spend some time with him in the Milton-Keynes. She was still alone for periods of time. Enough to have to settle herself somehow.

The color red makes something in her relax. Specifically when it's flowing out of her own body.

Now Max is with her and she's stuck in her own head. The never ending maze of twisted thoughts keeps her from moving. The fear of giving in has been looming over her head for longer then normal. It feels like she's losing something, always has been with this team, but change feels far worse then staying with them.

Max hasn't pushed her to do much aside from at least stay in his presence. Occasionally attempting to get her out of her own head with movies and games. He's even spent hours at a time just talking to her about anything and everything.

He opens the door to the balcony, but she doesn't look at him. Not until he holds his hand out for her to take. An action she does without hesitation. No thoughts are needed for this, just following Max's lead.

He leads her over to the couch and arranges them so she can sit tucked into his lap. A grounding hand runs up and down the lenght of her spine. "I've been doing some research about how we might be able to get your head to quiet down."

"I'll do anything, jus' want it to stop." Her voice sounds dry and cracked from how hard she's screamed and cried through the last few days.

"Do you trust me?"

"More then I trust anyone."

She finds herself slipping off the couch and onto her knees, in-between Max's legs with her head resting against his thigh. His touch doesn't leave her skin. "You're doing so good for me. Listen to my voice and focus on taking big breathes for me. Can you do that for me?"

She hums in response. The continual stroke of Max's fingers against her face and sound of his voice already helping immensely.

"That's it, just breathe for me. I've got you; you don't have to fight the thoughts alone. I'm right here with you, keeping them away, never leaving your side." Max grabs one of her hands with his free one. her fingers lay between his. Her favorite puzzle with how easy the pieces fit together.

"You're here with me; I've got you. Those scary thoughts aren't your own. The are unwanted and uninvited, but most importantly, they don't define you. You are brave, loved, beautiful without gaping wounds. You're not crazy or psychotic. You are yourself, with your highs and your lows."

Her body has never felt like this. Her entire being wants to give itself over to Max. His breathes guiding her own, his gentle yet firm hold on her keeping her where he wants.

She lets herself fall under his spell. If Max can take the control away from her, make her complaint and relaxed like this, then he can have her thoughts too.

"That's it, such a good girl, let me think for you. I won't leave you to fight or flounder on your own."

She follows Max's directions, lets him guide her in this place of trust and letting go of things. He's turning her brain off and letting her float without any kind of worries except what Max is telling her to do.

Until all she can think of is him. The calm the comes with his presence and the way his voice falls over her like a soft blanket. Max is all she knows, occupying every crevice of her mind and leaving no room for anything else to creep in.

"How're you feeling, geliefd?" There is a lightness to his tone that makes her swoon.

She hums against his leg. "Warm, fuzzy, head empty."

"Then you stay here as long as you need, okay? I'll keep you safe."

And she does.

She falls into the warm embrace of Max's words. She lets him protect her and keep the dark ugly thoughts away.

With Max, her head is quiet. The voices can't come though. When they do, he's there to fight them back.

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mysticmunson · 1 year

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Maybe some Alpha!Eddie x Plussize!Omega!Reader comfort fluff/smut? Acquaintances to Lovers, she didn't think Eddie looked her way until it was discovered she was an omega. Reader is feeling low wondering if Eddie actually has feelings for her or if it's just because she finally presented. Turns out he always had a crush on her. He shows her he would've chosen her regardless.

from the sidelines: alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader

authors note: hi darling! thank you so much for the lovely ask, i'm a bigger girl myself so these hit close to home. i hope you enjoy! i also want to note that my work can be interpreted as any body type, but this piece does reference being bigger. i'm not sure how i feel about this so feedback is welcomed as always. (not proofread whoopsies)

warnings: mentions of being bigger than others, insecurities, brief smut (18+)

When going through a turbulent time, a good friend can be the remedy or the impairment, but you weren’t sure which one had occurred with your relationship with Eddie Munson.

Being the outcasts in middle school meant you stuck together, hushing the boys who teased him as he scared the girls who belittled you. Watching him grow was an unexplainable experience, not knowing the exact day when your platonic connection became romantic.

Change knowingly came when you both presented, him as an alpha and you as an omega. The knowledge of one another was by pure happenstance, but he didn’t hesitate to come to your house, assisting your situation. Already in a state of blatant desire, all his attributes became more prolific, noticing every line by his eye or fainted freckle on his shoulder.

The next few days were spent beside each other, comforting the other through affirmation or unspoken caresses. But as you faded from your heat, the knife in your chest began to twist, that there was a future beyond what was in front of you.

The delusion brought by nature during this time had blindsighted you to the impact this could have on your friendship, on your other friendships, and your mental health. The thoughts swarmed in your brain once Eddie pulled on his Metallica tee for a final time, kissing your head and going to his van.

The warmth of his skin still left you shuddering, recalling it like a forgotten song as he played every string of your body, a one sided symphony being left in its wake. His duty as composer satisfied his need to create as you reeled in the masterpiece at hand.

You hadn’t spoken to him since, taking every opportunity to avoid those soft brown eyes that were once so close to your own. However, the game of cat and mouse could only go on for so long, especially when he wasn’t one to beat around the bush.

Trudging to the door, it was the first knock you heard on your door all day, the sun now set as the star just began to shine. The pounding increased as your steps went in sync, prepared to politely scare away whoever decided to ruin your night of somber. As you threw the door open, the tall man with a mane of curls was before you with an unamused look, stepping inside without saying.

He looked at you, crossing his arms over his chest with furrowed brows, clearly not entertained by your avoidance. It made you feel two feet tall, glancing down at your feet, only to realize your state of undress in only small shorts and a thin tank top.

“Shit, Eddie, let me get changed.” You mumbled, walking quickly, but he followed right after you. Cutting you off to your room, he went in first, flopping on your unmade bed.

“Not like I haven’t seen you in less,” He sassed, propping himself up on his elbows, “Now tell me why you’ve been ignoring me.”

The silence laid thick enough to cut, emotions swirling around you as you tried to think of any congruent thought. His attitude would typically amuse you, but now it felt too real. As if this were an interrogation, the bright light beaming down on your face as you broke a sweat, barely able to see him under the pretense that you had been caught. An unspoken crime.

Walking to your dresser, you pulled on a baggy sweatshirt, despising the heat while aching for the coverage. The same eyes that were looking at the back of your head had seen every crevice and crease of you, but you doubted he truly perceived you as you did him.

The detail in which you find yourself yearning for him goes beyond skin, but it’s the part of him you can touch. The self-given tattoos that took residency on his arms, the dimple in his back, the way his hair poked through the pores of his face.

“Hey,” He broke you from your daze, “Talk to me, you’ve been ignoring me since last week.”

He sat at the edge of the bed now, pillow in his lap and, seemingly, much calmer. What you hated was the way it made you feel even lower, that your longing was so blind to him.

Rubbing your hands down your face, the burning within your skull made you curse yourself, struggling to control your emotions. The hitch in your breathing made his attention heighten, standing to pull your hands away to see your distress.

The combination of loneliness, affection, anxiety, and all the other unexplainable sensations brewed into anger. Pulling from his loose grip, you pointed at the door while looking towards your feet, tapping one to show your lack of patience.

“I’m not leaving, not until you say what’s wrong. What we did was completely natural.” He sighed, flopping his hands against his jean clad thigh, wishing things would resume to how they were.

But the past was as painful as the present for you, maybe even more so now knowing he had touched you. It irked you that maybe the past was so easy for him to go to because nothing had truly changed.

“Eddie, stop, you don’t get it.” You spoke with a waving voice, trying to reign in the racing beat of your heart.

He scoffed, making you lose your grip on the invisible rope, blood flushing to your cheeks in a mix of embarrassment and pain.

“What makes you think I don’t? We’re going through this together!” He emphasized, “I know it's different for alpha and omega’s, but we have each other.”

The band of false serenity snapped as your fists clenched, biting your lip for a brief moment before letting your words loose.

“Eddie! You don’t get it because you didn’t have to watch you leave!” You sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in momentary confusion, “You went into your van and you drove home, but I’m still there. I’m still at the night you arrived, the night you left, and every fucking minute since.”

Your usual calm tone was exchanged for a fierce one, but through the frustration, the agony rose to the surface. He felt frozen in place as you continued your rant, wishing he could take a peek inside your brain.

“I have spent years watching you look at girls and I supported you every single time even though it made me want to die. These girls looked perfect and only had to worry about if your personalities matched, not if they even liked bigger girls in the first place! And I was there every single time. Shit, I was here when you presented!”

The tears rolling down your cheeks cascaded like the words streaming out, losing any bit of secrecy you had from him, hoping the feeling of relief would wash over you soon.

“I was here and I felt so beautiful and amazing and worthy. It hurts like hell knowing that was a natural instinct for you when it was so much more for me.”

Before you could continue, arms wrapped around your body, securing you firmly to a warm chest you knew too well. One that you would fall into without hesitation, greeted by the familiar aroma that infiltrated your senses.

A palm stroked your hair, hushing your cries as you nuzzled into his neck, inhaling as if this were the last time. As if this were a pitiful action to cease the awkwardness, but there was nothing that could make Eddie seem anything less than accepting of you.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, swaying you both to soothe you, but you tensed at his response.

All the years of friendship seemed to be dripping from both of your hands, piling into a mess on the floor that would dissolve without a trace, just a memory. The thought of letting him go and never seeing him again terrified you, enough to humiliate yourself just to get one more minute of his love.

“You mean so much to me and I fucking mean that. I wanted you before we presented and even more now, it felt like destiny, like a plot twist in DnD.” He gasped, his nerdiness making you laugh as you smacked his chest, looking up at him, “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but the thought of you here, so needy, made me insane. More insane than usual.”

Hands gripped your hips as he pulled you to his body, “I need you, I wanted to ask you to be my omega, but I chickened out. I think you’re magnificent, like a beautiful princess from those old fairy tales.”

Unexplainably dorky and with a hint of self depreciation, nothing could have been more genuine from your curly haired knight in shining armor. The cracks in your confidence would take a while to patch up, there was now assistance in the job as mere words helped mend the destruction.

“I have thought about you every day. How gorgeous you are, how perfect we are when we- uh- made love? Fucked? Whatever, that was great.” He laughed walking you both over to the bed, having you lay down as he threw his shirt to the floor.

Noses skimming across one another, his brown eyes pierced your own, his own breath tickling the hairs above your cupid's bow. There was no time for insecurity as his lips met your own, melting together into an entanglement of words left unsaid.

As the clothes came undone into an accumulation on your childhood rug, your bodies mended as the doubt washed away, flooding into the forget worries of only minutes previous and longer.

“I love you, I’m sorry I’m shitty with my words and didn’t say it sooner.” He breathed out, stretching you as he rutted into your cunt as you elicited a moan.

“I love you too.” You whimpered, cupping his face while your thumbs ran across the hair protruding through, scratching the pads of your fingertips.

It felt like you were creating a work of art as he made love to you, as if no one had felt so strongly about one another as the two of you felt right now. That no matter what occurred in the world outside of your home, it wouldn’t amount to the pure passion filling your bodies.

Finishing quickly with him right behind you, his body felt limp against yours as his arms shook, making you giggle that was music to his ears. With a wet kiss to your nose, he stared into your eyes and wondered why it took him so long to ask in the first place.

He had never felt this close to anyone, ever since joining forces in middle school, and he didn’t plan on anyone else. He had considered others, but no matter what, he couldn’t wait to run home and call you. To hear your voice on the opposite end of the fuzzy phone line, reminding him that you were always there.

Truthfully, even if you hadn’t presented as an omega, he thinks he would’ve done anything in his power to adapt. He wasn’t ready to move through adulthood without you and if there was anything he could do about it, neither of you would have to find out.

tagging some who were interested in my other alpha content :) @elizabethmidnight2017 @iheartyouyou @forksloree @fantastic-fantasy-fanfics @sillypurplemurple

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desert-fern · 7 months

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A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 23: Lights Down Low

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

*GIF is not mine… regretfully because look at this man!

A/N: Chapter title from MAX’s song Lights Down Low

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: Smutty smut, unprotected piv, oral (fem receiving), riding, teasing (it's Jake... he's a tease and a talker), brief moment of scar insecurity, very little plot but meh, lmk if I missed anything!

THIS IS MY FIRST ATTEMPT WRITING SMUT SO PLEASE BE NICE! ALSO THIS IS ANOTHER MINORS FUCK OFF CHAPTER!

Word Count: 5.4k

Masterlist >> Part 22 >> Part 24

===

Tears pricked at her eyes and Bear grabbed his arm. “Come in. Please.” A reunion that she had been both looking forward to and dreading at the same time was happening now. She was still emotionally fraught from her conversation with Bug and the feelings that had sprouted while talking and training with her team. So this… this would be hard.

Jake swallowed thickly, nodding quickly as he let her lead him into the house. Seeing her face, the very same one that had soothed and haunted his dreams over the long months, was like a punch to the stomach. “Teddy I…”

“Jake…”

“Sorry.” They both said in unison, small chuckles erupting as they stood awkwardly in the entryway of her home.

“I missed you,” Bear whispered. “I wanted to call you so many times, but I couldn’t.” Her heart broke at the sadness that overtook his face as her words made their impact. “They wouldn’t let me.”

“I missed you too.” His voice was quiet, watching her face flicker between so many indistinguishable emotions that it would take him hours to figure out a single one. “I thought about you everyday.”

A bittersweet smile overtook the current look of regret that was tattooed on her face as Bear looked up at his face. In all the time she had spent with him, every second spent curled up in his arms, every kiss shared, Jake had never once looked at her the way he did now. She didn’t know what was going on in his head, but whatever it was had him scanning every inch of her face as he searched for something. “I wanted to see you,” Bear said lamely, her bottom lip drawn between her teeth.

Why was she nervous? That’s what Jake wanted to know. Every part of his brain and heart were screaming at him to move. To take her in his arms and never let her go. To make her his, in whatever way he could. But despite all that, his feet wouldn’t move. He was stuck still with a misplaced sense of fear, because what if after those five months she had realized that it had just been a trauma bond? What if she realized that Rooster was right?

“Jake?” Her voice was distant, coming closer as Bear stepped up to him, her hand coming up to cradle his jaw. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into her touch, savoring the warmth of her skin on his own. “Jake, honey. Look at me.”

And when he did, everything seemed to fall into place. Green eyes met brown, like they had so many times since meeting, but now, now the air around seemed different. “There you are,” Bear said softly, thumb brushing a stray tear that had fallen down his cheek without his noticing. “My Flyboy.”

“Teddy…”

Jake reached out, placing a hand on her ribs and reeling her close, chuckling as she had to steady herself against his chest. Bear had longed to be in his arms the moment she had left them, desired this feeling late at night when she couldn’t sleep. His warmth washed over her, easing the chill deep in her soul. Jake was here.

She stepped closer, her eyes closing as she pressed her forehead against his, the pair of them breathing shakily as their bodies tried to force them closer. Her hand on his jaw had slid around to the nape of his neck, fingers burying themselves in the short hairs. A quick glance up and Bear found herself caught in the forest that was the ever-darkening green of Jake’s eyes. The heat from his body made her head spin and Bear knew that finally, finally she could be his. He wanted her and he had made that clear since the start, so she closed the distance, slotting their mouths together.

Jake’s arms moved first, curling around her upper back and pulling her to his chest. He felt Bear do the same, her arm pressing them ever closer as their lips met again and again. She shifted in his arms, this time hugging him. Bear had buried her face in his neck, breathing him in. The sandalwood cologne of his that she loved filled her nose as she pressed her face into the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

She was safe. Jake was here and nothing else mattered.

Bear pulled back just enough to look at Jake’s face, smiling at the love she found there, before diving in to kiss him again. She took full advantage of the small hitch in his breath, nipping at his lower lip once, twice before soothing it with a swipe of her tongue.

His mouth opened to her and his tongue met hers, quickly fighting for control of the kiss. Jake moved his hand to her jaw, tilting her head just enough for him to bite back at her lips, grinning into the kiss when Bear gasped.

She pulled back, watching Jake’s face draw into a sharp smirk as he took her in. The flushed cheeks, spit-slick lips, and chests heaving for breath only increased the desire that echoed through their bodies. Jake stepped forward and toed off his shoes as he followed her through her house.

They came close enough for Bear to steal another peck before she backed off again.

Bear’s heart was pounding. After months, months of waiting, finally they were here now. So she continued stepping back, letting Jake follow after her. His darkened eyes tracked her up the stairs and down the hallway. The stare igniting a fire in her veins and the ache between her legs seemed to thrum louder at the look on his face.

She had gone to slip through the door, to meet him on the bed, but Jake’s arm snapped out, grabbing her wrist and pressing her against the wall. It made him grin as he caught the brief wide-eyed look on her face before she grabbed his face, pulling him into another searing kiss.

When Jake broke the kiss moments later, he grinned at the half-whine that had escaped the woman pressed against him. He ducked his head to mouth at her jaw, biting and sucking in a trail from her pulse point to under her ear. Bear bit back a groan when his teeth nipped at her skin, trying her best to keep quiet. Jake pulled off, turning her face to look at him. “If you stifle another sound, we’re done here darlin’,” he hissed, catching the look of indignation that flared in her eyes at his words.

“No we aren’t,” Bear growled, both hands coming up to shove him back against the opposite wall. She stalked forwards and drew his head down into a bruising kiss that stole his breath. She fought him for dominance over the kiss, winning for just a moment before Jake grabbed at her hips, making her stutter in her movements.

“Why. Are. You. Still. Talkin’?” Jake breathed between kisses. His head was spinning from how close Bear was, from the feeling of her hands that had slid under his shirt, from her finger tracing his abs, and from the way she kissed him like she would lose him. He’d been hard since she’d first bit at his lips. Since she led them closer to her room. Hell, Jake wanted nothing more than to fuck her here in the hallway, hear her cries as the pictures rattled with the force of each thrust, but he refrained for now. There would be time for that later. Right now though, Jake could ignore the ever-growing problem in his jeans, if only to fulfill a promise he had made what felt like forever ago.

Just to be contrary, Bear pulled away, swiping her hand through the string of saliva connecting their lips. “Because I can.” The look in her eye was practically daring him to do something about it, and dare he did.

Jake spun them around, pressing her back against the wall where he had stood not moments before. The picture nearest her rattled against the wall and Bear reached out to steady it. Jake scoffed and dropped to his knees before her. “I must not be doin’ enough if you can still focus on a fuckin’ picture.” The purr in his tone had Bear’s knees buckling, making Jake’s face split into a grin when his hand over her lower stomach was the only thing keeping her upright. “Besides, I promised to make you beg, darlin’.”

Fuck. The fucking ego on this man. Bear’s thoughts were a mess, but they were gone in a heartbeat. In that short period of time, Jake had ripped her shorts down her legs and buried his face in her pussy. She writhed at the feeling, head falling back to thud against the wall as a moan ripped from her chest.

The hand holding her up grabbed at her thigh, tossing a leg over his shoulder to give him better access as Jake flattened his tongue and licked a wide stripe through her folds, from her weeping slit up to her clit. Sucking her clit into his mouth, Jake let himself bite down on the sensitive nub, grinning as Bear shrieked his name. She wound her hand in his hair and pulled him in closer to her heat, keeping him there. “Fuck. Jake. Right there!”

His responding groan against her clit had her eyes rolling back in her head, another whine leaving her chest in a strangled sound. Jake popped off her clit, choosing to focus on her weeping cunt, fucking his tongue into her. Her taste exploded on his tongue, the tanginess enough to have him groaning into her.

Bear’s hips bucked up into his movements, aborted little motions that tried and failed to deepen her pleasure. Jake’s hand had left her knee, pushing her back to the wall, stilling her. “Jake! Come on! I’m so close!” She ground her hips down against his mouth, riding his tongue as much as she could. “Jake! Fuck!”

A finger crept up to prod at her entrance, slipping into her wet heat. Jake nudged at her walls, crooking his finger to just graze the spot that had Bear try and and fail to stifle a yell. His words replayed in her mind and she’d be damned if she made him stop now.

“Guess I’m staying away from there,” Jake hummed, as he watched Bear’s face and saw her struggle to find a response. “I need to hear you beg first, Teddy.”

Her mouth fell open, staring at him in open frustration. Bear snarled, tugging his hair and pulling his face to look up at her, her already labored breath hitching as she took in Jake on his knees. His blonde hair was a mess from her hands gripping and pulling at it, and his eyes. Those green eyes held nothing but a smugness and pride that she hadn’t seen since the night they first met. Bear was well and truly fucked. He’d been attractive in his khakis, in his flight suit, in the sweatpants he’d lived in after his crash, but now? Now, the look on his face was sinful, made even worse by her wetness on his lips and chin.

It gave her a sense of pride. So between heaved breaths, Bear managed to growl “Don’t you dare hold off on me, Flyboy. You run your mouth all the time, put it to good use and make me cum.” She shoved his head down to where she needed it most, but his hand clenched around her wrist, stopping her movements.

“You aren’t in charge here, darlin’.” His voice was gravely, thick with desire and full of an ego that had clearly been well earned. “I am. So I’ll move at my own pace, once you say please for me.”

Whatever Bear was about to say got abruptly cut off by Jake ducking back down and lapping at her cunt that was practically dripping under his ministrations. Bear was a revelation under his tongue, squirming and crying out so loudly that he was glad that they hadn’t tried something sooner. She would have had to muffle her sounds and that was as good as treasonous in his eyes, especially given how responsive she seemed to be.

So he redoubled his efforts, fucking his tongue into her as two of his thick fingers crept up on that one spot hidden in her smooth, wet walls that clenched around him. He grazed that spot inside as he lapped at her cunt, nose bumping her clit every time Bear ground down against him. Jake could feel Bear clenching around his fingers, her legs shaking from how close she was for the second time now.

Bear was so close to shattering on his tongue, her orgasm having brought her higher and higher until the only place left to go was down. “Please Jake!” Desperation seeped into her tone, begging him to bring her back down. Pleading with him to draw her orgasm out of her. “Please!”

He growled something that sounded vaguely like “Good girl” before continuing until he felt her shatter around his fingers, her velvety walls squeezing almost too tightly around his fingers. Her mouth was open above him in a silent scream of pleasure as her vision whited out and her ears rang from the force of the orgasm he’d drawn from her.

Jake drank up every bit of her cum that he could get under his tongue, getting his fill of her. Distantly, he heard her whine and her hands batted at his head, trying to push him off. One last lick and Jake stood, keeping his hand on her hip, pressing her back against the wall as her legs shook. He’d be lying if he wasn’t proud of making her shatter with just his mouth, but he could gloat about that later.

Bear met his lips in a messy kiss, grinning as she tasted herself on his lips, feeling the remains of her orgasm on his face. “Tease,” she breathed against his mouth. “You and your fucking mouth.”

“I got you to say please, didn’t I?” Jake was unbelievably smug, he had Bear beg for him, plead with him to let her cum. The same woman who’d bragged months ago about not having to say please. How the tides had turned.

“Fuck you.” But there was no trace of malice in her tone, Bear hardly had enough brain function left to stand, let alone fire back a clever line. God, she couldn’t remember the last time a man had wrung an orgasm that strong from her. Luckily for her, she had a man standing before her, her cum on his lips, who seemed hell-bent on making it happen as many times as she wanted.

That smug smile was back on his face and Jake couldn’t help but sling her arm over his neck and lift Bear into his arms. “What do you think I’m trying to do?”

Bear stole another kiss from him, savoring the moment that was ruined by Jake dropping her on her bed, laughing as she bounced. “Get on with it then, Flyboy. Fuck me.” Her words were daring and her brown eyes darkened impossibly so when Jake pulled his t-shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. He crawled over her, kissing her deeply before his lips trailed over her jaw and began placing open-mouthed kisses against her neck.

Her hands roamed his bare torso. She’d seen it before, felt the ridges and definition of his muscles under her touch, but now it was all new. Like she had never had the chance to touch him. Bear gasped as Jake’s teeth worried a new mark at the base of her neck, her nails digging into his shoulders at the suddenness of the action. Jake hissed against her skin but continued his path down until his lips came in contact with her shirt.

He sat back on his knees and Bear sat up to follow him, pulling her top off as she did. Their lips met over and over, Bear moaning into them as Jake’s steady fingers trailed along her skin to tease at her nipples. He slowed just a moment to trail his gaze over every expanse of exposed skin, batting at Bear’s hands when she made to cover herself. “Don’t,” Jake said softly. “You have no reason to be shy.”

“My scars…” Bear whispered. She’d turned away from him, choosing to stare at the wall over his shoulder. “I hate them.”

Instead of answering her, Jake leaned forwards, laying Bear down yet again but this time, letting himself explore the newly bared skin. After a beat, he pulled away, trying to get a read on her. “I don’t hate them. They’re a part of you, but they do not define you, ya hear?” Bear can practically hear the gears turning his head at her silence. “Teddy, we can stop now. I can get you a shirt and your shorts and we can just cuddle. Okay?”

Bear’s brown eyes snapped to his, a sudden ferocity in them. “I don’t want to stop. Do you?”

“No.”

Bear reached up and kissed him hard, taking advantage of his inhale to slip her tongue into his mouth, stealing control of the kiss before Jake had even had the chance to fight her for it. It took everything in his power to pull away, to return his attention back to her tits.

Jake let his tongue trailed over her chest, leaving as many marks as he could, his hands roaming the skin where his lips weren’t. He only pulled away to admire his handiwork before returning to the task with a renewed vigor each and every time. And the sounds that slipped from the woman under him. God, he thought her laugh was intoxicating, but now each and every little gasp, the hitches in her breath, and the whines that seemed to echo through the room had been imprinted in his mind.

Thank God she had said she loved him. This would be pure torture if it was just a one night event.

Jake pulled back just briefly to watch Bear squirm as his breath fanned over her peaked nipple before sucking it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. His fingers pinched at the other before Jake pulled off with a pop to give the other the same attention.

Bear was writhing under his touch. It was simultaneously too much and not enough and he hadn’t even fucked her yet. Jake was everywhere, his touch magnified by the height of her desire for him and Bear swore that she had never been this wet in her life. Her first orgasm was long forgotten as she cried out when Jake nipped at her breast, and Bear couldn’t take it anymore. “Jake! Please!” She begged, a hand grabbing at his jeans.

“Mmm.” Jake hummed, her nipple still in his mouth and Bear’s other hand tightened in the bed sheets before going to push him off. “Use your words, Teddy.”

“Fuck me!” She gasped out and Jake grinned before leaning up to claim her lips in a kiss that nearly stole whatever remaining brain power she had. “Jake, just fuck me!”

Who was he to deny such a sweet plea? Keeping his lips to hers, Jake made quick work of his jeans, pushing them down his hips until he physically had to pull back. Bear chuckled as he hopped off her bed, but the giggles quickly faded as his pants hit the ground and his cock sprung free. “You good darlin’?”

Jake visibly preened under her appreciative glance. Her eyes were fixated on his hips, tracing the narrow vee, and kept dipping down to stare at his cock. It curved slightly to the right, the tip a pretty pink and visibly weeping pre-cum under her intense stare. He was thick, thicker than she had expected, thicker than she had taken in a while but goddamnit she would do so happily.

“I’m great.” The sight in front of her was beyond anything she’d expected. She knew he was big, how could she not? They’d changed in front of each other often enough that she’d seen the bulge in his underwear, but without that thin barrier, well she had an idea why his callsign was what it was. “I just-”

“Speechless already? Damn, I must be better than I thought.” Jake couldn’t help the smirk that had slid across his face at Bear’s pause.

“Get your ass over here, Hangman,” Bear replied, leaning back on her elbows and splayed her legs wide, giving him a clear view of her dripping pussy. “I thought I said fuck me.”

Jake growled and leapt on her, pinning her under his weight. Bear gasped when his cock nudged her clit, the motion brief but quickly reigniting the sheer want that had dwindled just a little. “Making demands again… tsk tsk Teddy.”

But Bear had had enough of his teasing. The ache in her cunt was all-consuming and she wrapped her legs around him and with a twist of her core, she flipped their positions so she was seated atop his hips. “I will make all the demands I want, Hangman. I’ve waited too damn long for you to fuck me and I’m sick of begging.”

Jake lay there stunned by the sudden dominance in her tone. Whatever blood was still in his head rushed downwards leaving him dizzy. “I-Teddy!” His sentence turned into a bitten off groan as she palmed his length, giving him a few teasing strokes. Any thoughts he had were gone, dissolved in the pleasure of Bear’s hand moving up and down his cock. “F- fuck Teddy.”

“Yeah? You just needed me to touch you, isn’t that right Flyboy?” Bear’s tone was teasing, fully aware of the effects it was having on the man under her. She slowed her pace on his cock, reveling in the groan that pulled itself from deep within Jake’s chest.

“I- fuck- yeah,” Jake managed to say, nearly biting his tongue when Bear lightly grazed her nail up the vein that ran along the shaft. How he would ever go back to taking himself in hand, Jake had no idea. Not after he had the pleasure of feeling Bear’s hand on the most sensitive part of him. His hands grabbed onto her hips, squeezing hard enough that they both knew he would leave bruises the next day.

Bear’s grip stuttered just a little as Jake slid her slowly forwards and back, allowing her to grind against his lower stomach and abs. The friction was just what she needed, the pressure on her clit causing her eyes to flutter closed as a moan spilled from her lips. “Fuck.” She clenched around nothing, whining as she did. God she needed to be full. Desperately.

She gave him another stroke, catching his gaze before kissing his nose to bring his attention back to her. “I’m clean, Flyboy. Are you?”

He nodded, biting back a grunt. “Ye-p… yes. Just - fuck - stop teasing!”

Bear could feel the pinpricks of his nails against her hips as she slid her hips back, rising up on her knees above him. It made her grin to see the flush of his skin under her, to watch how it spread down his neck and settled around his chest. He was falling apart below her and she’d barely done a thing, so she took it a step further. She positioned him against her opening and slowly guided him into her.

Jake’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as Bear lowered herself down, feeling the muscles hidden in the smooth walls grip his cock far better than her hand had. “Fuuuuuuck…” he groaned, letting his head fall back against the pillow, looking up to see that Bear had thrown her head back, exposing her throat covered in his marks. “Goddamn Teddy… squeezin’ me so good.”

A small strangled sound left Bear’s throat as Jake bottomed out in her, clenching around him as her body tried to get used to his girth. “Hnn- fuck.”

The room filled with sharp breaths as the pair of them tried to get used to the new sensation, both trying to steady themselves before anyone even thought of moving. Bear’s hands planted themselves on his chest and the movement had her rocking forward slightly and a groan ripped out of Jake. “Fuck - move!”

Bear tried for a smirk but found herself failing as Jake’s grip on her hips tightened impossibly so, drawing her up his cock before teasing them both. She grabbed a hand with hers, pushing it above his head, interlacing their fingers, and set her pace, rising up as slowly as she could before lowering herself down hard.

Her mouth was open in sheer bliss, too full to say a word. His cock hit all the right spots in her cunt, pulling moans and whines from her effortlessly, clenching around him as she rode him slowly. Her pelvis met his over and over, each descent on his cock had her coating him with the wetness that leaked out from around him.

Jake was writhing under her, begging her to move faster because he knew he couldn’t last much longer. She was just so tight and so wet around him and Jake had never been harder in this moment. He was desperate to feel her shatter around him, craving the way she would squeeze him as she came. So he planted his feet against the bed, snapping his hips up as she came back down, forcing himself deeper into her. The sound of their hips meeting echoed through the room, the sound a clear indication of what was happening behind the closed doors.

Bear tossed her head back, her loose hair hanging down her back and sticking to her sweaty temples. Jake surged up, jostling him inside her, his mouth finding one of the developing bruises he’d made earlier. His hand, no longer being held by Bear, snuck down to find her clit. He reveled in the keening noise that slipped free as his thumb grazed the sensitive nub ever so slightly. He applied more pressure as she bucked forward, her pussy fluttering around him. “Jake! Fu- please!”

She was rocketing along the pleasure wrung from her by Jake’s thumb and cock, scarcely able to tell where she started and he ended. The snap of his hips drove him deeper, harder, his thumb sending sparks down her spine. The fire in her stomach burned brighter and hotter, and one final thrust sent her over the edge. Bear dug her nails into his chest, a sound almost like a wail filling the air around them as she shattered around him. Her pussy squeezed him like a vice as he coaxed her through the end of her climax.

Jake rolled them, laying Bear against the pillows, allowing himself to chase his own release. His thrusts were frantic, without much pacing, having lost himself in the feeling of her coming around him. Jake came with a shuddering groan, warmth filling her as Bear tried to catch her breath, whining at the sensitivity.

He caught himself before he could fall on top of her, remaining sheathed in her for a moment longer. “Wow,” Jake breathed into the skin of her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to it.

Bear chuckled, turning to face him. A soft smile danced across her face as she caught his lips in a sweet kiss. “Imagine this, had you not been a part of my mission, we wouldn’t be here now,” she whispered in the falling silence of her bedroom.

Jake shook his head. “I don’t believe that for a second.” And he didn’t. Despite having very little brain function at the moment, Jake believed wholeheartedly that he and Bear were meant for one another. “I would explain it, but I think you finally took that last brain cell.”

She snorted, turning her head to steal a glance at the clock on the nightstand. “Why did I agree to a beach day with the team tomorrow?” Bear groaned, accidentally clenching around Jake, who groaned. “Sorry.”

“‘t’s all good, Teddy. I promise I usually last longer than that.” Jake was a little embarrassed that here he was, collapsed half on top of her around one round, when he had gone far longer in the past.

“Hey. You have a lifetime to prove it, don’t you?” Bear replied playfully. Mirth danced in her eyes, Jake’s first glimpse of the woman he’d fallen for way back before they’d nearly lost one another.

He nodded. “That I do. You ain't ever getting rid of me, Teddy. I promise that.”

Jake got up, pulling out of Bear before walking to her bathroom and grabbing a cloth. He tossed it at her, laughing when it hit her stomach with a smacking sound, but he laughed harder after she whipped it back in his direction, hitting his chest and falling to the floor. “I deserved that.”

“You did.” Bear couldn’t take her eyes off of Jake. He’d so easily said that he didn’t intend to leave, the sincerity sending shivers down her spine. She had fallen fast, forcing her to love him hard. So fierce was the love she had for him that it took a split second to decide if she should risk herself for him. The things that Bear would do to protect him, to keep Jake close to her, were too numerous to describe, but the main thing that she’d do: Bear would love him. She would show him everyday that she cherished him and grow their love together.

“Teddy? Where’d you go?” Jake watched Bear turn over to face him, a soft smile on her face. He could feel the love she held for him, could see it in her eyes and how they sparkled when she looked at him, and it made his heart swoop.

Bear shrugged. “Nowhere. Just got caught up in how much I love you.” She’d fixed Jake with a soft look, watching him as he leaned against her bathroom door. “And how it took just one night for you to get stuck in my head.”

He grinned widely. “Yeah? You’re telling me that the night my life changed, you somehow walked away thinking about me?” Jake stepped closer to her, watching as Bear rolled her eyes at him, trying and failing to hide her grin. “Not the ‘Bear’. No. She’s too serious.” He was teasing her, grinning as Bear blushed a bright pink.

“Shut up,” Bear laughed, swatting at his stomach. He caught her hand, thumb running over her knuckles, taking in the sight of a naked Bear laying atop her covers, blushing and smiling. And not just smiling, but smiling at him. Just like Jake had wanted ever since he witnessed her combat skills in training months ago. “And stop lurking, I’ve been a little deprived of your cuddles, so get your disgustingly perfect ass over here.”

Jake shook his head at her before walking around the other side of her bed to grab his underwear, stepping into them before he heard Bear clear her throat. “Are you really putting underwear on after I just complimented your ass?”

“No?”

A triumphant grin split wide on Bear’s face and she hopped up onto her knees, shuffling across the bed to where Jake stood. “Good, because you know I love you for more than just your ass-ets, right?”

Jake nodded, smiling softly down at her. “Say it again.”

“What? I love you?”

“Yeah. Don’t ever stop saying that.” Jake pulled the covers back, crawling under them and beckoning Bear close. She happily obliged, curling up as close as she could to him, drifting off to sleep soon after.

Bear didn’t hear the quiet “I love you, to the bitter end and back again,” mumbled into her hair. A soft reference to her letter from the ship all those months ago, words that Jake had all but tattooed into his brain. She wasn’t awake to hear it, but as he fell asleep, Jake vowed to make sure that she never forgot it.

Even if he said ‘I love you’ first, they both knew that they had silently said it a thousand times before then.

And that, that was the perfect thought to have before Jake slipped into sleep, the girl of his dreams held tight in his arms.

===

A/N: So. I hope this made up for the cliffhanger last week and didn't suck donkey ass. Big big thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 for punching me verbally every time I tried to say this was bad, as well as a general thank you to @sarahsmi13s, and @dakotakazansky for all the support!

Taglist: @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @twsssmlmaa @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @sgt-barnesveins @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris @havlindzk @a-beaverhausen @killcomet @buxkybarnez @topgunruinedme @hangmanscoming @smoothdogsgirl @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby

#fern writes #a gun amonst daggers #jake hangman seresin x reader #bear and hangman #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #top gun maverick #jake hangman imagine #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #jake seresin series #jake seresin smut

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kiwiraccoon · 5 months

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Our Own Story

Read To Me pt. 2

Yunho x reader

Description: Read To Me Pt. 2: “Put the book away, let’s write our own story tonight.” Yunho doesn’t hold back anymore, he’s waited long enough. Your story has been a slow burn, he’s tired of the glances, fluff moments, and boring nights thinking about what if.

Word Count: 1117 (unintentional)

Warnings: MDNI, female pleasuring (not descriptive), borderline smut (first time writer), petnames, dom!yunho x sub!femreader

part one

You set the book on your bedside table letting your need and desire completely take over your mind, you didn’t realize how deprived of touch you were until this very moment. His hands remained in their place, one dangerously slipping underneath the hem of your shorts and the other holding him up by his elbow while his hand softly touched the exposed skin of your stomach. “Yun, what-“

“Shhh baby, don’t ruin our story.” He says the moment our eyes meet, I can see the same desire I feel swimming through his innocent yet dangerous eyes. The heat from his body surrounds my being like a warm blanket, heating me all the way to my very core. We’ve spent so many times laying in the same bed just enjoying each other’s company, it’s all we needed to feel content. Now I know I won’t feel content until his body is connected with mine in a way neither of us have experienced together.

We would be breaking down a wall that would no longer leave us stuck on opposite sides of roommates. “Are you sure?”

He chuckles at my question, “I should be asking you that.” He takes a moment to scoot a little closer, invading my space in an intimate way that sends fire burning through every vein in my body. “Baby, are you sure?”

Not breaking the intense eye contact between us I move to push the blanket away from my skin, removing that wall myself, I refuse to let it get in the way any longer. I never wanted it there in the first place. “Write our story Yun, make the words on the page come to life please.”

He wastes no time in moving his hand from my thigh up my body to the side of my face to hold it tenderly while he leans in to connect our lips. The feeling is so much more than what the stories say. It’s not just fireworks or butterflies, no it’s euphoria, bursts of serotonin, complete and utter happiness, and the perfect amount of ecstasy.

The world around us disappears into nothingness, a void of darkness to swarm us in the moment that we both have been waiting so long for. He craved me almost as much as I craved him, and I would prove that. I move my hand to wrap around his neck, tangling my fingers into his hair to give slight tugs at random times. Our kiss grew stronger with my actions, and when I heard the sound he made my whole body lit on fire.

The flames dance under my skin tickling spots with a needle like feeling to shock my nerves to life. I wouldn’t believe anyone who told me I was alive at this moment, I feel as if my soul is a million miles away in a paradise someone can only dream about.

His hand on my stomach moves up my skin under my shirt more at a pace that leaves whimpers escaping my throat to be swallowed by his kisses. I can feel the electricity building underneath my skin following his touch. It burns like the most beautiful bonfire underneath the perfect sunset of orange and purple skies.

I never believed I would feel the words I had read in so many different versions on pages from various books. But here I was having a book start something I had only dreamed about.

Yunho moves his mouth from mine against the skin of my jaw and down my neck to my collarbone. I can’t begin to explain the sensation I feel from his lip on my skin, it’s like I can see and understand paradise without knowing exactly what it means to me, it feels other worldly but that world isn’t known. I can but cannot explain the complete fulfillment. It makes all the sense in the world but my brain cannot wrap around it.

His hands make pleasure seem as if it wasn’t the easiest thing to bring to myself when in reality any other hands could never, mine absolutely could not. My conscious mind was only on the feelings and sensations he gave me, yet I still failed to realize he had moved his hands lower. One hand holding my side still in a comforting yet strong grasp, exuding dominance with a splash of care and comfort.

“Tell me how you feel.” I hardly register the words in my broken and fading mind. His voice held a rasp that made my legs squeeze tight around his one hand. Though he wasn’t having it as he used that hand to push my right leg down to the mattress with a firm grasp on my thigh. “Tell me, not show me.”

“Oh god,” was all I breathlessly said, not knowing exactly how to form a sentence. All he had done was kiss and touch me and here I was completely losing my sanity.

His chuckle makes my eyes land on him. He lowers his head to my chest as he chuckles before he looks up and makes direct eye contact with me. The few seconds of silence make my world feel like it’s ready to implode. Who he is now is not the cute puppy I want to squeeze and cuddle for hours on end. No this is a dog, one ready to pounce. “God?” He lets out a small chuckle again. “No, say my name baby.”

He pleases me in a way I’ve never felt before with just his hand making me take in a sharp breath and hold it in. I suck in my lips to bite down on them as I whimper louder than I have tonight. He gives me more and more, pushing my limits and making stars appear behind my closed eyes.

I can feel the pressure building in my core as it tries to break free from its hold, the walls cracking and bending against their will. The second his lips touch my skin again I can feel the walls give in, “Yunho!”

“That’s it baby, that’s my name. Say it again.” And I do a few times letting him know he was the one that caused my undoing that ripped the sounds from my throat and reached my core so easily.

Seconds pass before my consciousness comes back to me and I pull Yunho closer to me into a cuddling position we both love sleeping in. “Yun?”

“Yeah?” He asks while he tugs me in closer to him.

“What did we just do?”

His chuckles brings a smile to my face, making me dig my face into his chest to hide any embarrassment I feel. “That was only the beginning baby.”

#Jeong Yunho #Ateez yunho #Yunho x reader #Yunho #Yunho fic #Yunho imagine #Ateez #Ateez fic #Ateez imagine

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spookemsdukems · 3 months

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.❀。• *BUILDER CHARACTER INSPERATION ₊°。 ❀°。

So I did the thing (Ty for the meme base Hani mwah kith fdsfdsf) FROM LEFT TO RIGHE BABEH

No-Face; Spirited Away:

Aside from the general off putting nature that is THIS character, the way it really reminds me of "Builder" is the scary smile and personality of adapting to so many different environments while never really fitting in. Which is quite similar to "Builder"

Frieren; Frieren Beyond Journey's End:

Frieren as a character has a hard time understand human emotions and how the short lived species of humans make an impact on her, and oh did they ever make an impact. The whole point of her journey- without getting super spoilery- is just kinda... understanding emotions and how special the people she knew and knows are to her? At least from my perspective ahsfsduif I dunno! BUT! I think that really fits with "Builder". She does not understand people, and emotions are often flying over her head, but her absolute desire to understand and care she could have for someone makes me draw the connection.

Ditto; Pokemon:

Ditto, the Pokemon that copies and mimics others but is never fully able to pass as the other. It is very... similar to my sweet baby "Builder"

Wall-e; Wall-E:

Wall-e is a simple lil guy, with the absolute dedication to doing his job cause it's all he knows, but he goes from a mindless little robot to a character rich lil man who likes lightbulbs and the pretty Eve and I think.. that is what "Builder" will become!

Kanna; Inuyasha:

Kanna was a creature created by an evil stinky man who says she has no heart. She's a blank canvas and only does what she is told. No emotions, no thoughts other than to listen. She is nothing... and she realizes this at a point and turns around the best she can with what time she has left. I think "Builder" has the similar mindset of 'Listen don't question' but will come to the realization that oh my gosh she is not who she pretends to be or thinks she is portraying. I dunno there was a line the character used that was like

"I have... I have nothing. I have nothing."

And that stuck with me

Shiro; Deadman Wonderland:

OK SO LIKE HEAR ME OUT?? "Builder" is definitely not like... sane? For lack of better words lol. She was raised in a similar way to Shiro and Shiro is definitely not the epitome of sanity wheeze. I mainly draw the connection between them with the view on romance and also how "Builder" would turn out in a 'bad end' sorta way?

HONOURABLE MENTIONS!!!

The Villager from Animal Crossing: The Mc has eyes that stare into your soul, much like her's!!! Tsuyu from MHA: The eyes and smile... Flor was oh so right lmao

THE MII CHANNEL THEME SONG: Cause that is 100% what is going through her brain at all times!

Violet from Violet Evergarden: I would have added her, but I felt like I added TOO many pretty ladies

WHEW ANYWAY if you read this all the way! HI congrazzles! Now you know some lore and thoughts that go into my brain! Also whoops I totally did this in reverse? Cause I made this OC before I ever thought of anything so wowie fun!

(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ enjoy!

#mtas builder #mtas oc #my time at sandrock oc #my time at sandrock #character inspiration #kanna inuyasha #wall-e #no-face #spirited away #ditto #frieren #shiro #tags are hard and i am struggling tm

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mambalae-s · 1 year

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until : kusakabe shinra x reader

note from author: it’s been a while since i’ve last written a fic, and this one is very near and dear to me. i’d started it over a year ago, during a dark and very hard time. i didn’t know how it would end when i started — i’d only been channeling the hurt and pain that i was feeling at the time, all while pining over one person who made me feel alright. over this year, they were patient with me. ever so gentle, who listened to me on my worst days, who took care of me and held me when i cried. even when i was afraid they’d hate what they saw and think that all my fears were irrational and pathetic, that i would push them away, and even now i fear sometimes that i will, they stuck with me. i couldn’t at all predict that they would become this person for me, even though i wanted to be close to them, i didn’t think i was worthy. but they stuck with me, and they tried for me and they were there for me and loved me. so this, in more ways than one, is dedicated to them. a thank you for being there for me without knowing they would at the time i started writing this so long ago.

shinra has never seen you at your worst, and you do your best to make sure he never has to.

after all, who are you to trouble him with the silly burdens you carry? he, who feels and lives and leads a life entirely separate from you — there surely is no room for you to invade so selfishly.

for him, you hold it all together. for him, you’re mindful of the words that huff warm air against the winter’s numb fingers, of the answers and false assurances you give when he inquiries about how you’ve been. lying with the words of “i’ve been doing alright” come so naturally to you, a reflex and a byproduct of the years you’ve spent hiding from the world. no longer does your brain process the words, no longer does your tongue go numb, nor does your throat tighten around the aching sobs of yesternight. desensitized you've become, an old friend to deceit and the old art of falsehood that, at times, you wonder when you'd become so good at pretending. it hurts that you did.

yes, you keep your heart behind lock and key for his sake, but gods above, it hurts so fucking much when it all comes out. it’s always when you’re alone, when the silence welcomes every pain and every ache that you keep buried deep — it’s the only time that it’s safe for your walls to crash and tumble. your wounded inner child who’s spent so many days staring up at the moon with tears streaming down her face, she only feels safe enough to reveal her pain where the warmth of unrelenting flames won’t see.

it’s when you’re at your most vulnerable that your ego sinks sharp claws into raw, bleeding skin. loneliness, to you, is the tormentor that mocks you with the desire to reach out to someone, to anyone who would be there to make the pain a little more bearable. to anyone who could possibly listen to you, to be there for you and help you pick up those pieces that lay like broken glass. how badly you want for him to hold you against him and tell you that things would be fine, that you would be alright and that he would be there for you, but how could you be so selfish and greedy to want that of him?

how could you think of showing him that broken side of you, the one who can’t smile and the one who hurts and the one who’s falling apart at the seams? he would see someone so damaged and beyond saving that he would walk away, repulsed by the sight of you with your bleeding heart on display, and you would have pushed away the one person who made things better and you just can’t let that happen, because if he leaves, you’d be left with nothing.

it’s terrible, you realize, just how much he means to you. without meaning to, you’ve come to rely on shinra to be what keeps you strong, to keep you going even in the midst of everything you feel. with him you feel safe, and cared for, and cherished. and your foolish heart, there are times it wonders if it could even be loved. could someone like you truly be loved by someone, loved by him? with all the childish yearning in your soul, you want so badly for that possibility. your fantasies tell you that yes, you could mean something to him, just as he does to you. that he could look at you and see value in what little you had to offer him, that he would believe you to be enough—

and you bring yourself back down to earth and tell yourself that you could never be enough.

why? why can’t you be enough? why must you be so damaged and undesirable? why would you ever delude yourself into even believing there’s a possibility for you to be loved? you, who has so many flaws and wounds and despairs, could never be loved.

despite it all, shinra doesn’t give up on you.

your ringtone startles you in the late hours of wednesday night, his name listed with a flaming meteor emoji illuminating your drowsy expression. the ache in your heart throbs — once, with longing, twice with guilt, a third, sharp pain tears through your ribcage with self-loathing. oh, how you loathe this version of you. this pitiful, broken, worthless version of you who can only be good for crying herself hoarse, sobbing until your lungs convulse and your body forgets to breathe. you hate the you who silences her ringer, the cheerful words "get better day by day" only worsening these passing days, weeks, months that seemed to hurt more and more. the you who pulls the covers over her head, who cowers away from the sun and falls to a cold darkness, you berate her, shame her, and scream at her to do better, be better, why can't you just get better?!

you're in no state to speak to shinra right now, you decide, though every bit of your ailing spirit wishes to. even though you long for his presence by your side, though you want so desperately to seek comfort in his warmth, you convince yourself that you are not worth any of it from him. you tell yourself tonight, just as you do every other night, that kusakabe shinra shouldn't have to see you like this. kusakabe shinra, whose smiles dazzle the world, whose eyes twinkle with an everlasting fierceness and love for life, he should never be bothered with someone as silly, immature, unhappy like you. the smiles you would give to him are too broken, too crooked, and far too weak for him to see — no, he can't ever see you like this. you ignore his call and let your screen darken.

and yet, it isn't the last attempt. from your warm little cocoon, you hear your phone's vibration go off once, twice, and a third time again before he begins texting you.

shinra ☄️ :

hey (y/n)!! you haven't fallen asleep yet, have you?

it's still so early... and i hadn't heard from you in a while...

is everything okay? please text me if you see these...! i'm worried...

guilt, as it washes over your body, is cold, dull, reminiscent of icy waters, and immediately, you feel the need to apologize. how dare you cause him to worry? how could you, if only you'd responded to his last message so many hours ago? if only you'd done better to convince him, to keep your smiles right, to answer his texts and watch the tiktoks he'd sent and—

"—but lord, you know i'm tired."

(y/n) :

i'm sorry... i haven't been feeling well today...

no sooner than you press send, with your tongue caught in your throat does the read receipt show up beneath your text. promptly at 10:16 pm; he'd been waiting for you to text him back? the idea alone hurts, and again, you're swallowed up with guilt. truly, you don't deserve his concern, his worry, time or care.

shinra ☄️:

ah… :(( oh no..

are you feeling sick??

"are you feeling sick?" your mind takes the question apart until it's unrecognizable, till it's meaning changes and becomes something new. "are you in pain? are your symptoms physical? is something hurting?" and the answer you provide yourself tears you apart because, truly, there is nothing physically wrong with you, so why? why aren't you feeling well? what in god's name is wrong with you, why are you being this way?

(y/n):

no.. i'm not really sick,, i just...

i've been feeling down i guess...

how can you tell him exactly what it is that you've been going through and still have it all make sense? how can you explain to him that all it is, is past wounds and traumas that continue to haunt your waking life? how do you say that you're still fighting the shadows of yesteryears, of distant pain that never leaves your consciousness?

you think — truly, really, earnestly, and desperately on the whips of a dying prayer that you can't. not like this.

you don’t want to hover over those three bubbles the way you do, but there’s a plea swirling between shattered breaths as you watch them appear. they’re gone, dancing on what you tell yourself is abandon dear god, he’s abandoning you, he’s abandoned you. he’s left you on your own, in these seconds that feel like eons he’s seen a glimpse of that ugliness that you’ve tried to hide for so long but no longer could. the paintings of dark skies and rolling thunders bring the taste of eternal rains, and these blazing embers want nothing to do with a storm years toiled. your heart twists within your chest and you lose yourself, spirals of anger, despair and hatred for yourself that would consume you on torrential winds — and you, broken girl who sings on ice-christened teardrops, you can do nothing but to let yourself fall. farther and farther, beneath cold waves of a raging sea, until—

shinra ☄️:

i understand… :(

a single text message, colons and bracket that form a sad frown: it’s what stops your descent. abrupt. unexpected. but so, inexplicably wanted.

shinra ☄️:

i’m close by right now and i have some curry i made!

we can eat it together if you’d like! :)

one, two, the world pauses on three beats. each the thumping of your needing heart, each echoing a sentiment that, between his written words, shine through like a beacon of salvation.

let me be here by your side.

and a fool you would be, to trust this glimmer of hope. a spectacle it would be, for you to dare and dream of the warmth he offers, to believe that you are worthy of such grace. your shadows of sin know better, and they remind you of that truth unchanging. that you are unworthy, unworthy, a sinner before the face of god.

yet, your thumbs pause on your writings of detestable humility, because despite those rolling clouds, the light of someone who cares for you reaches far beyond that familiar gray.

(y/n):

yeah… yeah that sounds nice.

it’s the single plea, the bitter taste of a succumbing prayer that you finally release: please stay with me. don’t go, don’t leave me here on my own. you pray, your breath dancing on ashen smoke and dust, for this person who would reach out to you amidst arctic waters. and shinra, this brilliant boy of orange sunsets, he holds on to it. he takes it between tender fingers, and protects it with every bit of care that he holds for you. you realize, as your tearing eyes behold the single text message he sends, that despite the cold that permeates your storm-weathered soul, that it’s warm. for the first time in a long time, you feel a warmth that had always been promised you, as if it had been waiting for you to finally let it in. a single flicker of a soft flame, one that had would only ignite should you let him, shinra had always been there for you.

and you tell yourself, solemnly and resigned, that perhaps, it’s time you finally let him be there for you.

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mothguillotine · 5 months

Text

VII.

Daryl had left before you had gotten up the next morning. Not wanting to ask to borrow a horse before leaving. The past two nights had been haunting him at all hours. His desire to spend as much time with you as possible was misguided in his eyes. All of his time should be spent trying to find Sophia, not wanting you despite the fact that you would never want him. He had realized that last night when he had thought about you too much.

He hadn’t really meant to start thinking in that direction, but once one thought was there, he couldn't stop them. He had thought about kissing you, but more than that, he had thought about how he wanted you. In his mind he had blamed that stupid impractical dress, he had only seen you wearing it for a short time but his mind was plagued by thoughts of you in the dress as well as thoughts of you outside of it.

When he woke up the next morning, it was obvious he had continued to think about you while he slept. He wanted to leave as soon as possible. The guilt that he felt surrounding the entire situation was eating him up alive. What he didn't know was that you felt the same way, unable to stop thinking about him. The rational part of your brain was convinced that he would never see you that way. You were just some random woman that he had gotten stuck with after the world ended.

On the other hand you had taken note of everything he had done around you. The way he pushed most of the group away and had let you sit with him at night by his fire. Yesterday when he had stared at you on top of the RV before rushing off. But none of this really counted towards anything. He had not directly made anything clear but you assume that he would never do anything else unless you initiated it.

As the day went on you became more and more concerned about Daryl. You had initially gone to Rick and asked him. To which he told you he was off by himself looking for Sophia. A few hours later after hearing nothing from Daryl you decided to go out and look for him. As you gather your supplies to set off for him you can feel yourself being watched. When you turn around you make eye contact with Jesse, who looks disappointed.

“I have to find him.” you tell him.

“You are not the only person who matters in this situation.” he says to you.

“It's not about me. It's about him. He’s been searching for Sophia for days and not hearing from him for this long isn’t like him.” you tell him.

“Y/N don’t try to lie about this. It's obvious how you feel about him.” he says, which takes you aback.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” you tell him faking ignorance about the situation, but you know he can see past it. You turn back and continue packing your supplies.

“You are the only person she has left.”

You know who he is talking about right away, Adi. It’s true, you know it. It makes you stop for a second and you know he is right.

“You're right.” you tell him.

“I usually am.” he tells you.

“You most definitely are not.” you tell him laughing slightly before the moment is ruined by a single gunshot from somewhere on the farm.

You both take off towards the noise, first taking note that both of the girls are safe from danger still under the tree they were playing at. When you finally reach the source of the noise you see Daryl looking nearly dead which springs you into action rushing over to the wounded man you instruct Rick to keep pressure on his wounds and get him to Hershel as fast as they can.

You see Andrea holding a gun looking guilty. You put it together with not much thought. Andrea had just shot Daryl when he was returning from his search.

“Andrea what the actual fuck is wrong with you?” you yell at her, “Are you that fucking stupid that you shoot someone comeing back to camp after you know someone is out there? Before getting the confirmation that it is a walker you just decide to shoot? It was one goddamn person you stupid motherfucker.”

“It’s not my fault he was disgusting looking and limping.” she says defending herself.

You curl your fist and punch her. The initial shock of being punched knocks her to the ground. Honestly it probably hurt you way more than it hurt her but it got your point across. You run up to the farm hour prepared to help in any way possible.

The next few hours are a blur of blood and bandages. You and Hershel are able to slowly work on him, patching up all his wounds and checking him over for any more permanent damage. Hershel leaves after finishing up, you decide to take wet rags and clean the dirt off his skin. Allowing yourself to view any more minor damage that he had sustained.

You find a large bruise on the side of his stomach. While cleaning him up you notice the scars that reside on his back. You do your best to ignore it even though it hurts your chest. After finishing up cleaning him you sit back in the chair that is next to his bed. You watch his chest slowly rise and fall, almost scared to look away as if it would stop. So you remained watching his chest until you dozed off.

When Daryl woke up he had a headache. He assumed it was from getting shot on the side of his head. The next thing he noticed was you. Sleeping next to the bed in a chair, your head leaning into your palm. You had blood staining your hands, his blood, he realizes. You had at the least cared for him while he was unconscious. He then noticed his lack of shirt. He pulled the covers up covering his chest.

When he hears a few knocks from the door he sees Carol. She is carrying two plates of food, one for him and one for you. They talk for a minute about his discovery in the woods.

“You know she stayed here helping Hershel the entire time.” Carol told him, “She cleaned you.”

Daryl hadn't noticed that yet. He didn’t have much dirt or blood left on him. Oh god, he thought, this is just getting worse. You caring for him was not helping him bury all the emotions he held for you. The whole point of leaving so early this morning was to put space between the two of you and here you were taking care of him when he did some stupid shit.

Rick came in next, he spoke with him about where he had found Sophia’s doll. He couldn’t help but notice Rick's questioning eyes going between the two of you. He didn’t say anything about it, but he didn’t have to. Daryl could see what he was thinking in his head.

Soon after Rick left you woke up from your sleep. You saw Daryl awake and felt relief that he was okay. He was looking at you when you opened your eyes. He passed you the plate that was sitting on the nightstand next to the bed.

“Thank you.” you told him.

“You stayed?” he asked you.

You knew what he meant. He was surprised when he had woken up, you assumed, when he saw you sitting here.

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?” you asked him.

“You shouldn’ care about no redneck like me.” he says.

“Daryl, of course I care about you. I’ve cared about you since the CDC.” you tell him, remembering how you had both agreed that Jenner was suspicious.

“I care about you too.” he says quietly, nearly imperceptible.

“Then it’s agreed, we both care about each other.” you tell him.

“Thanks for this.” he says, gesturing to his wounds.

“Of course, puts all my college debt to use.” you say to him.

“I thought you were a teacher?” he says.

“I was an assistant at a preschool over summer, after school was done.” you tell him. “I also never really wanted to be a nurse. It was what my parents wanted for me but I never was too fond of the idea. What about you, what did you do?”

Honestly you had a few guesses for how Daryl Dixon made money, your top one being a mechanic. You had seen him working on his brother's bike time and time again, each time stopping to watch him. Once you had been caught by Maggie who had laughed at you for staring. But you couldn't help yourself, when he worked on the bike his arms were just gorgeous. Even after Maggie had caught you a few days ago you still couldn't break your stare any faster.

“Nuthin,” he says to you. With how he reacts you turn away from that subject in favor of discussing anything else.

“Okay, how about your favorite color?” you ask him.

“What?” he says, caught off guard by your question.

“What is your favorite color?”

“Uhh, green?” he says unsurely.

“Are you sure?” you ask him as you smile a bit.

“Mh, you?” he asks you.

“I would have to say, purple.” you tell him.

“I like purple,” he says.

“I like green too.” you tell him, which gets a smile from him.

“Carol said you cleaned me up.” he says, “Thanks.”

“Well can it old habits of taking care of people when they decide to roll around in the mud.” you tell him humorously, “Also I just wanted to make sure the dirt wasn't hidin’ anything important.”

The next day you wake up in pain, your back killing you and your head pounding. You missed your bed, your pillows and blankets, and your stuffed animals. While you didn't own a lot you missed your belongings. Most of all you missed music. It had been so long since you had listened to your favorite albums, most likely you never would again.

When you got up for the day though it instantly got better. Deciding to join Lori in completing chores you had walked over to her, to which she gave you two bowls of food and told you to go to Daryls tent. Most people had steered clear of Daryl as much as possible, they had decided that you would bring Daryl his food seeing as how he likes you the most.

There had only been one other visitor for him so far, Andrea. She had gone to his room in the house only to be told he had relocated outside. When she arrived at his tent she found him lying on the ground fidgeting with a bolt.

After apologizing for shooting him and giving him the book she had brought with her, she turned to leave only to be stopped by Daryl's voice.

“Who gave you that?” he asks her, with amusement.

“Ask your girlfriend,” she calls to him over her shoulder.

While walking towards Daryl's tent you see Andrea leaving from his camp. When you both get closer to one another you see just how much your fist affected her face. Her cheek is swollen where you had punched her. The bruise was also nasty looking, even though you wanted to feel sorry about it you couldn't because she had deserved it. You finish your walk and see Daryl laying on the ground of his tent.

“Brought you some food.” you tell him, handing it to him.

“Thanks.” he says before starting to eat. You were not really sure what to do, so you continued to stand. “You can sit down.”

“Okay.” you tell him, sitting down and starting to eat your food.

“Did you punch Andrea?” he asks you, you can hear the amusement of it in his voice.

“Yeah.” you tell him covering your face with your hands. You weren't embarrassed by the action you had taken but now sitting here with the person you had done it for you were. What surprised you was he started to laugh. Which caused you to start laughing as well with your face still in your hands.

“Why?” he says.

“I thought she killed you and even after I knew you were alive, I was just so angry.” you tell him.

“You punched her for me?” he says, you're pretty sure the question isn't directed at you but you answer it anyways.

“I'd do anything for you.” you honestly hadn't meant to say it, the meaning of it being too heavy to actually say but you did. As of yesterday you had assumed that Daryl felt the same way about you. But sitting here in his tent made you doubt, while you waited for him to say something.

“Hey we are going to practice shooting, thought you might want to come.” you heard Rick's voice come from outside of the tent.

“I’ll… uh see you later.” you tell him gathering your bowls before getting out of the tent. His response, or lack there-of, confused you. Yesterday when you had stayed up with him for so long just talking you were convinced that what you felt for him was reciprocated, but here you were second guessing yourself.

Daryl felt like an idiot. He was angry at himself for acting how he did. He was so convinced that what you had said last night didn't really mean anything. His hallucinations of Merel had really messed with him and he had woken up this morning almost convinced that last night had been a dream. As soon as you said those words though he had nearly short circuited. All of the work of him keeping his distance from you had gone down the drain.

Even hours after you had left he kept replaying the words over and over in his head. What he didn't know was that so were you. After arriving at the area that was designated for shooting you had shown Rick and Shane that you were more capable than they had originally thought. Seeing as how you didn’t need much practice they had sent you away to help anyone else who needed it, the person you had focused most on was Jesse though. He had no idea how to properly shoot a gun.

At first he had tried to insist that shooting with one hand was the correct way to shoot. After arguing with him you conceded telling him to shoot the bottle on the fence post. The recoil of the gun knocks him over when he fires and he falls on his ass.

“Do you see why when we shoot we use both hands?” you ask him condescending.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he tells you, but never seeing him shooting with one hand again means your teaching worked.

You worked with him for a while until the only thing off was his aim which wasn't something you could completely fix, him getting better is up to how much he practices now. Happy with your progress, you move on to a few more people. Each of them having their own challenges until you all are told by Rick that it's time to get back to the farm.

After being away for so long you had nearly forgotten what had happened right before you left but as soon as you approached the farm the embarrassing memories came back. It made you want to dig a hole and live in it, obviously not possible. So the next best thing is to ignore.

Feelings for Daryl? No, even though everytime you see him you get butterflies. Attracted to Daryl? You're out of your mind, even though you had caught yourself on multiple occasions looking at him from across the farm. Wanting to spend time with him all the time? Never, except for in the evenings when you waited for him to sit by his fire so you can join him, and in the middle of the day when you think of something funny to tell him, of course in the mornings too when you would wait to see if he had left already to find Sophia, and most of all at night when you were left alone with your thoughts. This is bad, you decided. Getting over him was out of the question, seeing as how your entire mind was filled with thoughts of him, you, you both together. Yeah definitely not.

You decided to steer clear of Daryl for a while, which lasted until Lori asked you to take dinner to him. You caved instantly, your desire to see him building more and more throughout the rest of the day. When you approached the tent and could see inside you found Daryl reading a book. It was an amusing sight to say the least. You hadn't given Daryl enough credit if he had the patience to read a book. He still hadn't noticed you so you cleared your throat.

“I brought food.” you tell him.

“ ‘m sorry.” he says quietly.

“What? Why are you sorry?” you ask him, you had decided to never bring it up again to spare yourself the embarrassment.

“For earlier. I aint good with things like this.” he told you while you join him inside his tent.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn't have said that, it was too much.” you tell him.

“It’s okay if ya didn’ mean it.” he tells you.

“Well I didn’t say that.” you say to him.

“So you do?”

“Hmm?”

“Ya did mean it?” he asks you.

“Of course I meant it, I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true.” you tell him.

Daryl was never really one for words, he had always thought actions spoke louder than words. The action he took next spoke the loudest. He leaned forward and captured his lips with yours. It was just for a split second before he pulled away from you. When he opened his eyes you could see him studying your face looking for any sign of disgust. He didn't find any but he was taken aback by you pressing your lips to his this time with an intensity he didn't have in the initial one.

The action took his breath away but made him want you even more. His hand found the back of your head and the other rested on your thigh. You brought your hand up to his cheek, both of you staying like this until you had to pull apart to breathe. When you open your eyes you see Daryl studying your face. You pressed forward again, going in to kiss him again. He meets you in the middle, his hand finding where it had been on the back of your head. That is when you are interrupted by Jesse calling for you. Getting closer to the tent with each step.

“I- i have to go.” you tell him, but not before he pulls you in yet again, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He presses forward anyways, stealing one final kiss before letting you go. When you climb out of the tent you see Jesse right away. Slowly walking towards the tent, he sees you and waves. You walk over to him and you both walk back to camp but not before you glance back at Daryl's tent and see him watching you walk away.

That night you can’t help yourself from imagining that your time in the tent had continued. You stare up at the top of the tent sweating from the heat of Georgia that your years living here couldn't have conditioned you for. The group had started talking about what you were going to do in the winter, seeing as how the temperatures were starting to drop. You couldn't help but feel as though they were making a bigger deal out of winter than you had initially thought. You had spent most of your life living in Michigan and nothing could compare to those winters. The months seem to drag on forever but you lived in Georgia now which had a much more temperate climate.

You decide to get up and go outside but not before grabbing your knife and a flashlight. The only other person who was up was Dale who was keeping a watchful eye on the property yet again. He notices you and waves, you return the gesture. The firepit was still smoldering to your enjoyment when you sit down. The air is cooler out here with nobody else near you. You hear footsteps coming up to you and when you look up it is the person who has been taking over all of your thoughts.

“Surprised to see you over here.” you tell him, smirking slightly.

“Came to view the real estate.” he tells you.

“You thinking of moving over here?” you ask him, which he makes a noise you take as an agreement. “There is space next to us if you want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

When you wake up the next morning you are in a better mood than you had been in for a while. The weight of your feelings for Daryl finally getting off your mind and instead enjoying whatever time you spent with him. Your back didn't hurt like it had yesterday and your head felt normal.

Of course normal can only last so long, because when you get Jesse and the girls up for breakfast a very distressed looking Glenn is waiting to tell you all news.

“So, the barn is full of walkers.”

Masterlist

#Daryl Dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon #The Walking Dead #fanfiction #reader #y/n

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plutosmut · 2 years

Text

4:00 am]

warning: bondage, constant clit stimulation, multiple orgasms, power dynamic, slight breeding kink, etc.

sero x reader

it was late in the office, you had to complete papers, and so did your cocky little assistant . he loved staying late with his boss, especially when she allows him to do as he pleases.

"tell me again what you want cutie." the nickname was annoying. he knew this. he knew how much you hated those dumb nicknames he would give you, the ones he cried in the office when trying to get your attention, the ones that would slowly leave his lips when he wanted you to feel nothing but annoyance. you wanted to strangle him, shut his cocky ass up for once, but his crooked smile, and voice laced with nothing but pure love of the chase entranced you. hanta sero is evil.

"oh right, youre gagged." he smirked hands roaming places they shouldnt, the gag in your mouth tasting like plastic and dried saliva. he had you tied, the long strips of tape having you hung up from ceiling. it wouldnt matter to you if, he hadnt strapped a vibrator to your clit, the stimulation sending you over the edge multiple times before starting again. he loved doing this, especially when youve been such a naughty superior, asking him to get you coffee even though you know hes busy, flirting with the low rank heroes and sidekicks, shimming in your skirt to the point where your ass hangs out, just for him to enjoy.

what made it worse, was this was the first time youve ever allowed him to go as far as giving you multiple orgasms. by now you would have taken control, just like in the office, just like in everyday life. but today you told him to do whatever his heart desired, and he most certainly took advantage of that. as he walked around you, in a casual outfit of a button up shirt and black slacks, he realized he was dissatisfied at the lack of your moans.

"youve stopped your pretty sounds." he groaned, cutting you down from the white tape, watching as you fell into his arms. placing your still wrapped form on the bed, he removed the gag and your binds.

"ha-hanta, youre so mean." you moan, the feeling of being free slowly hitting your senses, "you said to do whatever i wanted to you, i am doing just that." he shrugged, placing you back on the table where you first were before he taped you up, "you remember how when we first started messing around," he pulled his member out from his slacks, his angry red tip oozing pre cum, a few strokes was enough to get him letting out small whimpers and mewls. "pathetic." you mumbled, eyes watching his every move rather intently.

"watch it cutie, you might not get to cum again." though he knew that was a lie, he wanted just as much as you to feel your walls clenching around him to completion. "anyways," he stuck himself into you, a moan leaving your mouth and a sigh leaving his. "you said you would never EVER let me fuck you on your desk. your most sacred space. the place where you get your amazing work done" he inserts himself now, a shaky moan leaving his lips as he pauses. he inhales before thrusting.

"the place where you take credit for my work." he

places both arms against your head, a dangerous grin smiling back at you. realization hits your pleasure soaked face, you did take credit for his work. it was an accident, you just never corrected your supervisor when asked, no wonder hes been treating you so rough. its all a punishment.

"i-it was a mistake." you moaned, throwing your head back as he continuously thrusted his member into your womanhood. "doesn't matter. youve been so so naughty." he reached for something, pulling into your sight the small black clip on vibrator he had attached to your clit moments ago. hanta groaned at the thought of you coming undone from the toy and his sloppy thrusts. soon it was reattached sending so many pleasure signals to your brain you couldnt just focus on one.

your mind, so jumbled, did the only thing it knew how to do in those few moments. with a scream of "im cumming!" you sucked his cock into you one final time before creaming his dick. a few more thrusts and he was following along with you.

he removed you from your restraints, removed the still beating toy from your clit and slowly pulled his sweaty work shirt over your naked form. it was peaceful, quiet as you both enjoyed eachothers company.

then it dawns on you.

he wasnt wearing a condom.

#sero x y/n #anime #anime smut #black!reader implied #bnha x black!reader #sero smut #beauty #older!reader #power dynamic

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elatedfool · 1 month

Note

Hello hello! I really hope I am not coming at a bad time. I saw your requests are open and I've just been stuck in this brain rot with Jing Yuan x reader, where the reader belongs to some dragon species, has a tail and horns and all (can be Vidyadhara just to make things easier) and she's super jaded and strict, really about "business/work first, rest later" and he's trying to break through to her. Aaaaa, if this piques your interest in any way, can I please request some headcanons or a drabble for this where he finally bluntly confesses to her, something sweet/suggestive, tysm for your time!!💕 Take care!

OOOH this is so cute! ty nonnie <3 i'll try my best nd sorry for the wait (＞人＜;)

fem!reader, reader is bailu's caretaker/assistant, pining jy (are we surprised), reader has claws, open ended (reader doesn't accept him nor does she reject him)

the first time he met you was probably when you're out chasing bailu when she escaped from the alchemy commission, passing by the seat of divine foresight with your tail dragged down the road, bouncing around with each step you took, and the sight instantly made jing yuan's heart jump in adoration, finding it so cute how your nose scrunched in annoyance when you, once again, lost track of the young girl, your tail swishing in anger as you prepare to march back home to report bailu's disappearance to the other vidyadharas.

ever since that day, he has been trying multiple escape attempts, and finally succeeded when yanqing is away to patrol the city. well, the little guy wouldn't have guessed that his general has started pining after centuries of solitude.

that is when the lieutenant calls for help from the master diviner, and yanqing lets out the loudest sigh ever when he spots the dozing general trying to pester you into taking a break with that default (*´ω`*) face he wears all the time, while you just continue with dealing with of some paperwork that bailu couldn't handle. really, if jing yuan isn't the great general and strategist who led a war for centuries and came out victorious, you would've slapped him with your scaly tail and flung him back to the divine foresight—but no, you can't do that.

"please," he begs, shifting his position closer towards you. he doesn't touch you though, seeing as you did not explicitly give him permission, "won't you take a break with me? i'm sure qingzu would not mind taking over my work for a while..." his low, velvety voice only serves to weaken the desire to punch him, as you start to take pity on the overworked man.

oh but unfortunately for him and not-so-fortunately for you, yanqing has begun to sprint towards jing yuan, with the latter immediately sensing the presence of his son subordinate and moving quickly to stand behind your chair. obviously it doesn't help him, his body is clearly larger than yours and yanqing immediately does his job to drag the now pouty grown-up home.

while he cannot go out anymore, jing yuan can still send you occasional letters and invitations for a tea. and when you refused due to your workload, he begins calling the invitations as 'official meetings' and smiles innocently when you came in to see him napping on his desk. he's really testing your patience, but you also cannot deny that he looks kind of cute like that...

"since you're already here, why don't you sit down and have some tea?"

you complied, and suddenly it's been over an hour since you start venting about your work to him—he makes you do this btw, for he loves hearing your melodious voice speaking about literally everything. it feels like you're lulling him to sleep and he fantasize about just how good it would feel to have you read him bedtime stories, plus having your clawed hands brushing strands of those fluffy hair out of his face, and laying his head on your lap... (๑>◡<๑) life could be dream fr) his daydreaming is forced into a halt when he realizes that he may have poured too much tea that it soaked his papers.

this visit continues for weeks, and jing yuan realized that you're starting to slack off—which is good news, because you were always working overtime and never got the chance to relax this much before, and as the leader of this fleet, he has to make sure all his people are happy and getting enough rest, right?

as for the confession...

on a quiet afternoon in his office, the three sacred words randomly flow out of his mouth, as if it's something spontaneous and natural for the both of you.

"i love you,"

he murmurs, like it was meant to be heard by no one, but it certainly doesn't go unnoticed by your sharp ears. then the general looks at you, a faint tint of pink decorating his cheeks as the realization dawns upon him, "was i too loud?"

"yeah..." you nod and look down, unsure of what to say. how does one respond to a love declaration? you never get taught about love and affection, having spent most of your life studying and working, striving to be the perfect example of a vidyadhara.

a low but hearty laugh escapes his mouth, "looks like your tail is betraying you," he points out, watching the rough yet shiny scales glimmer under the office's light as it sways from side to side. ah, everything about you is just so mesmerizing to him.

your breath hitched as you glance back, catching your tail and hugging it close to your chest to save yourself from humiliation. what a nuisance, you think, but to the general sitting across from you, it was the most adorable thing he's ever seen aside from mimi's tender paws.

"i apologize for being sudden..." jing yuan tries to break the ice, his hand slowly moving closer to yours, "you don't have to accept my love," despite his words, he really, really hopes that you'd want to return the feelings. he'll be in shambles if you were to reject him.

this was a rare moment from him, to see the general so flustered and unsure. so, what do you say? will you gave the touchstarved man the love he deserves?

#i hope you like this nonnie...#mailbox｡#hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you

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anthros-vanitas-archive · 5 months

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Call of the Night, Archive

So this is Call of the Night, as a brief introduction, the tales of an individual during the midnight-morning hours. A miniseries of my attempt at some kind of poetic writing.

Here's the list. Under the cut you will find some final words about the origin of this project aswell as some notes about the process of each part. But I suggest you read it for yourself first.

Part 1. 3:00 a.m.

Part 2. 4:00 a.m.

Part 3. 5:00 a.m.

Part 4. 6:00 a.m.

Final Words.

Farewell nocturnal creatures and fools whom avoid the warnings, welcome to this final words. As I mentioned this 'mini-series' was originated as an exercise into a more poetic type of writing, which for me has never been a skill I had, adding my own approach to it of course.

The inspiration behind these stories is really simple: I myself I'm an insomniac. My whole life I have experience several sleepless nights in which your mind is not capable or maybe not willing to embrace the rest it needs. A tiring experience to everyone that has been in this kind of situation, but for me and perhaps fellow insomniacs a familiar situation to be involved in.

Now... we're gonna dive deep into the process of each individual part, this is gonna get really personal but here we are. So shall we?

(Fun fact: The name of the parts were a placeholder as I was writing them but in the end were never used and just remain as a easter egg for you here, maybe you recognize a pattern somewhere)

Part 1. Dizziness

In the first instalment I wanted to remain as close as possible to the nothingness that is to awake in the middle of the night, the piece as basic as now is in retrospective was one of the first instances of sharing my writing on the internet, for that fact a lot of abstraction was scrap in order to obtain a more 'simple' story but even with this the fundamentals were set-up, from this point every other part of this 'mini-series' contained reference to the first in structure and in motifs. Like writing a chorus for a song, it would always remain on my mind that after a question for this old friend I would need to add the now characteristic: "I, once again, have answered the call of the night."

Part 2. Awareness

With this part I wanted to evoke the sense of how pointless this situation really is. At this point as much as you're aware of the situation and you understand the circumstances it doesn't make it any more enjoyable to stuck in it. When you get to analyze your own sleepless patterns a lot can be reduced to your brain feeling tired, or stressed out but even then it doesn't make sense that you need rest but you, yourself, your own brain doesn't allow your body to have what it desires. With this comes the realization of how in this moments of boredom, in my personal experience, my brain goes to over-analyze certain things something as miniscule as how if you pay close attention to the clock it feels like is moving more slowly that it used to. A mere trick into the concept of your own perception.

Part 3. Rejection

In the start with this part I wanted to tell how lonely this midnight hours can be, after all as far as you're aware you're the only person who is not in the 'normal' schedule of sleep. But when I finished writing this part, I came to realize that I got really personal into certain emotions and insecurities that I didn't realize I had at that moment about a more specific loneliness I felt. Knowing that everyone around me had certain goals and I felt directionless with my life, and even throughout the years I built a 'safe space' that same space made me feel more apart from everyone else and I started to doubt if that was ever going to change. I am in a better headspace now, no need to worry.

Part 4. Knowing

For the final part I was thinking of ending things. Oops sorry. What I mean by that is that I wanted to have a good finale for this story and one that attach back this 'individual' into reality, but even them as an individual and as the narrator of this story started to become doubtful about returning back to the world, back to reality. In the making of this I also may say I got a bit personal with the themes of doubt, as a conscious being, I have experience many different types of uncertainties in my life. Doubts about being to brash or to reckless, about doing the right thing, about your past actions, about your present self-worth, about the future without you, about the role you play in the world. In the end, full of questions and in desperate need of answers the story reach its end and we returned back to reality.

Not everything needs to have an answer, not everything does.

#call of the night #the anthros archives #anthrosarchives #writeblr #writers on tumblr #creative writing

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uh-velkommen · 6 months

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The Cycle of Poverty. Life in Sweden:

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about the kind of person I am and why I make the decisions that I do. I've just been frustrated with where I am in life and it seems that my algorithm has picked up on that too because it keeps recommending me videos about burn out in graduate school. I've also found myself reading a lot more about "different" personalities in this field of study (Anthropology and Linguistics) as a way to find space for me in this line of work. It's not that I feel like I've made the wrong decision, it's that I feel like success in Anthropology seems to look one way and it's not a very stable and feasible career for someone with my background. And that's where the problem lies: My background.

Education History

Growing up I've faced both ends of the sword when it comes to my intelligence. I'd get shamed by my mother for "acting like I'm smarter than her." I'd get praised by my teachers for being a good noodle. I'd desperately fight to avoid being labeled a nerd. I wanted to be a cool kid but refused to sacrifice my passion for fun facts and a diversified vocabulary. My entire identity revolved around my brain because outside of that I was just another fat, annoying, little girl with no friends. The only time people said good things about me was when it had to do with my knowledge. Of course that caused a lot of confusion because I'd hear that nobody likes a smart aleck but then get special treatment at school because I got A pluses. The world was telling me it's good to be smart but you can't let people know that you are. You can't remind people of their circumstances (foreshadowing). During this "Am I autistic" journey I've been on, I learned that often times autistic kids will try to bond and connect by info-dumping. Sharing interesting information that's applicable to the topic at hand in hopes of sparking a conversation in the only way you know how to communicate. And if that doesn't summarize my entire adolescence... But the problem with this is that I grew up in a neighborhood where people were not educated and it wasn't something worth talking about. Parents and Grandparents immigrated at a young age, their children raised in low income areas, eventually finding that being a stay at home mother or drug dealer was more lucrative that sitting in classrooms for 8 hours. Sometimes girls got pregnant at 15 and dropped out, sometimes guys got mixed in with the wrong crowd and were killed by 17. These are the circumstances that we all grew up in and the trauma bond made it so that people were okay living like that. It was expected. But I felt like I was stuck growing in a cocoon that could not provide the nutrients I needed. I had this immense interest in the world outside of my tax bracket and fear of being left behind by it. I always felt like the outsider in my community and what frustrated me was that for the first 19ish years of my life I felt like I had this secret gift. One that I needed to continue expanding on it because when I compared my way of thinking to my surroundings, I existed on a pedestal. But soon after I started learning that I was just average. I was the tallest blade of grass in the field, unaware of the trees that stood for longer. I decided then, that I needed to do everything I could to become a tree. There was a new crowd of people that I needed to fit in with but no matter how far I got in my college career, I couldn't shake the fact that I was just grass. Grass that got too much sunlight, grass that didn't realize these trees were only that big because they came from more.

Gotta Get Out Of This Town

My desire for the world stems from my lack of community. I think because I grew up in such a one track minded neighborhood, I have to make up for it in worldly experiences. Again, these people are born in my neighborhood, they grow up there, they fight to survive, and they die there. They never leave. And I get a tightness in my chest whenever I think about the life that God meant for me to have there... I was thinking recently about how good it would look to have "Sweden" and "Norway" on my resume. "People will see this and think, wow she's a worldly person! Diverse and understanding of cultural variance!" I thought. But then I thought about the hundreds of (white) women my age who spend vacations in Paris and travel on the weekends. Women who could afford to find internships with top companies at 18 and who's resumes are way more beefed up in less amount of time than mine. I realize then that I have no chance. What makes me stand out on a resume with two countries versus a resume with 12? "You could always tell them where you come from and they'll realize that those two countries were an amazing feat for someone like you..." Someone of your shortcomings. My life, my family's history will always be a part of me but I want it to be a part that I use when I see fit. Need to jimmy-rig something? Looking for cheap meals to save money? How do you get rid of roaches? That I can help you with. "Wow you came from such hardships, how did you manage to get yourself here? See, this is the prime example of the American Dream." That makes me wanna shoot myself. I don't want to struggle to accomplish things. I hate that when I do things, I have to be 100% certain that they'll work out the way I envisioned or else I am one failed plan from living right back in that neighborhood. I don't have a support system to fall back on, I don't have money to find some place to stay until I find a good apartment. I have nothing. Nothing but brains that don't buy you jack-shit in the hood.

Compensating

I worry that coming here was a big act of compensation. If I move across country, that'll prove to my "friends" back home that I am better than them. I'm smart, I can get somewhere. I'm aware that I'm not actually competing with anyone. It's not like I open my friends Insta-stories to laugh at their misery. They aren't all living in cardboard boxes thinking, "if only I was as smart as Alisha, if only I had valued our friendship more." The reality is, all those people I grew up with are happy. Their stories consist of them kissing their partners and feeding their kids and they love it. They are contempt with where they're at and I don't compare my current circumstances to their because I recognize that having a family is what makes them happy but having kids is absolutely NOT what will make me happy. But then, why do I still feel bitter? If I'm so much better than them, why am I still struggling so much?

I keep reminding myself that I'm playing the long game here. I have to network, I have to put myself out there, I have to struggle to get where I'm trying to go. This isn't a me versus them thing, this isn't something I can blame on poverty, this is just life. But where those white girls are getting through this with friends in the same boat, I'm living this life alone. I can't turn to my married friend and complain about my midterm topic, she's not gonna know what I'm talking about. In the end, it seems that intelligence has yet again made me the outsider. I'm trying to prove something to no one. I don't even think I'm trying to prove something to myself. I'm just fighting for a happy end. I only wish it didn't come with so many risks. I run out of money, I'm back in the hood. I fail at grad school, back in the hood. I can't find a job, back in the hood. Except all the years spent distancing myself from friends and family will have me back in the hood, with less than what I started with and even less that what my old friends now have. (This is starting to veer into my struggles when I first started college. When I watched all my friends build their own lives and felt stuck in the system... but that's a different blog post and I've nearly moved past that).

Can someone tell me why all my decisions feel like a desperate attempt to compensate for something? What's the missing piece here? What am I still fighting against?

#grad school #life in sweden #vent #sweden travels #Scandi Saga #me

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awkwarddystopianwarlord · 1 year

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What to be When I Grow Up

From a young age, I knew I would always be poor. I loved too many artistic paths and made peace with the fact that they wouldn’t bring in much of an income. Granted, neither does working a normal people minimum wage job, but I digress.

Fashion designer: I love clothes, I love putting together outfits. I also loved the concept of designing whatever I wanted, whatever I couldn’t usually find in stores. I wanted also, to create styles that fit larger body types or, at the very least, curvy ones. Then I realized I had to know math… which I don’t.

Interior designer: organizing is a desirable pastime for me. I thoroughly fancy fitting items in my house into the perfect spots. I enjoy making livable spaces in less-than-ideal places. I find it satisfying to turn a room into a home. I still dream about doing that with a future home, and I dreamt about doing it for the homes of others. Then I realized I had to know math… which I still don’t.

Manhunt participant: I vaguely knew of the show Manhunt, but I really wanted to just play the game for a living. I wanted to run around in the forest and hide and climb trees and bound over mud and dive into thorny crevasses. I knew this wasn’t exactly a realistic option, but I could still hope.

Actor: I did an acting program after graduating for three months. I had an agent. I went to three auditions, though one was for a magazine shoot and only one was for a show. The agent dropped everyone on his roster to pursue making youtube movies, whatever that means. I decided against moving to Vancouver when I moved out because the pandemic was beginning and I didn’t want to be alone in a city as the world went to shit. I also knew that since it’s so ungodly expensive there, I’d have no time to go to auditions since I’d be stuck working multiple jobs to pay my rent.

Digital artist: I still hope to do this one someday, I just cannot afford an iPad right now. I love drawing and creating and have a lot of interest in animation. Maybe when my brain starts working and my wallet stops crying, it could become a reality.

Author: Again, hoping to do this one someday too. Just need time and a working brain. I have three books in my head, probably around eighty characters now, a show, a soundtrack, and many spin-off side-quest stories within the existing fictional universe. I have all the things in my noggin, just no noggin fuel to get it all out.

Dancer: I was always on and off with this one. I’ve done dance for twenty-one years but I don’t have a lean figure, I like food, and I never really knew if I was good at it or not. In the last year, this occupation’s spark has been rekindled, for now I know I’m good enough, I know people who think I’m worthy, and I know I can keep improving. The only thing holding me back is my deteriorating body, but once I figure out why I’m suffering, dancing is first on the list.

So there you have it, my answers to “what do you want to be when you grow up?” They haven’t changed, I’ve had the same hopes and dreams for more than a decade. I still want to gallivant in the forest, design my own clothes, decorate my house, act in fascinating shows, draw fanart for my unwritten book, and dance away my chronic pain. If I have a high school reunion, I’m curious to see how many of these dream occupations I’ll have crossed off my list.

#ideas #thoughts #childhood #dreams #hopes #adulthood #writing #blog #biweeklyblog

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lemoonstar · 1 year

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>> Moon's Blog #1

~ The Subject of Love ~

Hello one and all, to my first blog post! I am your host, the one and only Moon Star, first name: Moon, last name: Star. But you, my dear guests, may just call me Moon... or Mr. Star, that sounds pretty cool too, but I'm getting off subject. Now, don't expect these blog posts to be too frequent, I'll probably just post my ramblings like this when I feel strongly enough about a subject or if there's anything exciting happening around the Lounge.

With introductions out of the way, lets dig into the topic at hand, love. Why love specifically? Well, a few days ago I was hard at work like I usually am, when a thought crossed my mind,

"It would be cool to have a romantic partner, wouldn't it?"

Initially, I just brushed the thought aside like any other random thing my brain formulated. But that thought just lingered there, and the more I dwelled on it, the more I began thinking,

"Well, it would be pretty cool, huh?"

With just that, I then began to think about all the nice things that can come from being in a relationship. Sharing passions with each other, spending time together out on the town, or even just a comfy night in at home. Of course, as you can imagine, this started filling me with a sense of, well... not necessarily loneliness, but a feeling of emptiness, like there was something missing in my life. A part that I felt I needed to be "whole" and that, was romance...

Ok I guess that also classifies as loneliness, but you know what I mean.

It's natural to feel this way every now and then, obviously. I mean, every human on the planet has experienced or will experience this emptiness one way or another, whether we like it or not. But for me personally in that moment, it was strange. It's not like I've been actively searching for love up to that point, in fact I hardly ever gave it much thought since high school, and considering where I'm at right now, I'm satisfied with what I have in life so far. Being in a relationship isn't really something I want, or am even ready for right now. So why was it that in that moment, where I'm simply chillin' out as per usual, I felt this deep desire to connect with someone romanticallly?

Honestly, I'm still not sure of the answer. Maybe it's because some of my closest friends have started relationships of their own and it's made me feel jealous in a way? Or it could also be that there is some part of me that still desires love, that part of me I thought I left back in my early adolescence where schoolhouse crushes came and went like the wind. It's a tough question, that's for sure, and it does me no good to just dwell on it.

Admittedly, it's more likely that I feel this way because so many of the stories I've written up in my head feature romance in some form (heck, even some of the residents of the Lounge are in romantic relationships because I made them that way). I guess subconsciously, I've always been a hopeless romantic, and that part of me probably reached a boiling point that day, where I began thinking of my friends, my characters, and my stories and realized that love is something I wouldn't be opposed to finding.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, for now, I think I'm good. I've got a lot I want to do, and I feel like being in a committed relationship would take me away from those things and I'd be stuck in a moral dilemma with what I want to pursue, love or my passion for art... Unless I get into a relationship with another artist, now that's the ideal scenario right there!

Moral of the story I guess, is that if I really wanted to meet someone, I would have already tried at this point, and there's nothing wrong with not trying to pursue love. Just do what makes you happiest, for me, that's making up stories, drawing characters, and keeping to myself, and if I ever do end up with a significant other, I'll let y'all know.

- Moon Star

#blog post #love #ramblings #im alright btw #moon's blog

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palimpsessed · 3 years

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Hey. You post a lot of great stuff about Carry On. Can you talk about the biting in AWTWB. The Baz/Simon scenes.Trying to wrap my head around it to understand why Simon did that. Why he bites Baz and keeps biting. Bites his fangs through his cheek. Is it because Simon wants to be bitten? That he wants Baz so much and Baz can't be harmed? I'm really trying to understand it but . . . what do you think?

Anon, thank you for this ask, and also for liking whatever I'm doing on my blog.

Can I talk about the biting? You bet I can!

Why does Simon bite Baz? Is it because he wants to be bitten? In a word, yes! But of course, there's a lot more to it than that. And this went off in another direction than I thought it would, so I hope you can stick with me on this journey! Under the cut because it’s a bit long.

There is a motif running throughout the trilogy of love being a consuming force. So much of Simon and Baz's identities are tied up in hunger very early on: Baz, as a vampire, constantly craving blood; Simon, as the Humdrum, constantly sucking up magic; both of them starved of love and intimacy. There's also a lot of fire imagery, going all the way back to when they first met, and fire is another consuming force.

Simon and Baz are obsessed with each other. The only thing they think about is each other. ("Trying not to think about you…S'like trying not to think about an elephant that's standing on my chest.") They are consumed and they want to consume, and, at least in Simon's case, they want to be consumed.

In WS, Simon reflects on misunderstanding his feelings for Baz prior to eighth year, and the way he does it has always stuck out to me: "I thought about him all the time. I missed him so much in the summer. (I thought I was just lonely. I thought I was hungry. I thought I was bored.)" The second item on that list is what catches my attention. Simon missed Baz and he thought he was hungry. I think it says a lot about how Simon's love for Baz feels if he mistakes it for actual hunger.

In the biting scene you mentioned, Simon says to Baz: "If it were me, if I were you…I'd drain you fuckin' dry, Baz, and it still wouldn't be enough." That's intense. And it's absolutely Simon. We know how much hunger he's capable of; his hunger was so potent, it became a whole other being! I've long maintained that his hunger for magic is a metaphor for his hunger for love. Because Simon is so full of love, and just utterly bereft of people to give it to, and once he has people to love, he doesn't know how to do it without also hurting them. He's never had good relationship modeling. (He thinks Baz should know he loves him because of how many things he's killed for him.—He thinks about teaching Baz how to break someone's neck like it's a fun couples' activity.—He gets turned on by killing things and watching Baz kill, too.—Date night is helping Baz hunt down rats.) Simon is a mess. He wants to love so badly, but he just doesn't know how to do it. ("Is this what people do?")

Simon loves Baz so much, he can't fathom ever getting enough of him. Ever being able to consume enough of him. He can't stop biting and smelling and grabbing because he wants more, more, more. He fits his teeth over Baz's old scars because he needs to claim him—make his own mark on Baz, possess him.

Part of this, as you said, is the fact that Baz is a vampire. Baz can take the roughness (which is not to say that he should just because he can). Simon's fixation on Baz's vampirism, which used to play out as paranoia, has changed into a desire to be bitten. Simon is thinking about Baz's vampirism, thinking about draining Baz dry if he were the vampire, and Baz, the human.

The other part of this is that Simon is unfettered, but really only in the aggressive, physical sense. He's long hidden his desires behind aggression without realizing that's what he was doing. (In CO: "I just want to run him down and knock him over and figure it all out." In AWTWB: "I wanted to jump on you, I didn't really think past that.") He doesn't know how to be unfettered in the vulnerable, emotional sense, and that's what keeps him from being able to be intimate with Baz. ("I don't know how, Baz…To get enough.")

Simon desperately wants to have sex with Baz. Which is what he's trying to do in the biting scene, but all of his desires are warring for control, and he can't sort out what he wants, and what he should be doing in that moment, with Baz.

What this is all leading me to may be a bit off topic, but I think it's all tied up in Simon's head.

Simon doesn't know how to be gentle.

His hunger and his desire for Baz have never been gentle. It's aggression, it's violence, it's possession; it's a forest fire, it's not a hidden waterfall.

Simon has never learned how to be at peace. In a recent interview with Vanity Fair, Rainbow said she made Simon "fight of flight"—literally, he has wings! There's a reason that Simon couldn't handle the inaction at the beginning of CO and before the events of WS. There's a reason that Penelope thought that they were "being lulled" because there was no war actively being waged. There's a reason Penelope tells us in WS: "Lesson learned: Relaxation is the most insidious humdrum." These are characters who are so traumatized by childhoods being foot soldiers in a war waged by the adults they trusted, they don't know how to live without fighting! They don't know how to live in peace.

We all have "I can touch you less gently, but I won't love you less kindly" burned into our eyeballs by now, but let's move earlier in that conversation to what sparks this: "What if I asked you to be less kind to me?" —What if I asked you to be less kind to me?— Simon doesn't feel comfortable with Baz's kindness or gentleness, because it "makes me feel like I'm being turned inside out. Like I need to get away." Let's sit with this for a bit. Baz's loving touches make Simon want to run because they're kind and gentle and he doesn't know what to do with kind and gentle. His mind isn't programmed for kind and gentle.

It makes complete sense that Simon would show Baz affection in a way that Simon understands, considering, as I said before, that he hasn't had anyone in his life to show him a healthy way to do this. What does Simon most want from Baz? Love. What does Simon understand love to be? Consumption. He wants roughness and aggression, he wants the inferno, because these are things he understands.

Simon wants Baz's teeth, so he gives Baz his teeth.

This is how Simon feels comfortable. I made this post while processing my feelings about AWTWB. It talks about Simon trying to love Baz the way he wants to be loved, and Baz trying to love Simon the way he wants to be loved. They want to give each other everything, but they haven't actually communicated their needs to one another, and that's what keeps them from being able to work through their problems. It isn't until they voice their needs that they're able to be intimate. This is what I'm really trying to get at here.

"Is this what people do?" Simon asks, over and over again. When Simon was in therapy, he learned a technique to break up "life into bites you can swallow". He tells us he's doing this again in AWTWB "because [the future] is too terrifying. Too uncertain. There are parts of it that are too bright." —There are parts of it that are too bright.— Simon doesn't know how to be happy. He doesn't know how to cope with happiness. "Is this what people do when they're in love? Do they just keep touching and talking? And then what? Like what is it all leading to? I don't mean sex, I mean… If I knew what I meant, it wouldn't be so frightening." When Simon is having all these overwhelming feelings about his future with Baz, they're on the Tube, and Simon sees a guy giving him and Baz "a dirty look". He interrupts his introspective on therapy to tell us that he wants the guy to cause trouble "because I would dearly love to punch something right now. That's a decision I could wrap my brain around." He can wrap his brain around punching someone, but not around a bright future with the man he loves.

Simon doesn't know how to be at peace. He doesn't know how to be in love. He doesn't know how to be happy. I think this is what we're seeing at play when he bites Baz. He wants something so badly, but he doesn't know what it is, can't articulate it, can't get at it. In a way, when he bites Baz, Simon is trying to ask for what he wants, without words, and without really knowing what it is that he does want.

He can't figure out how to let himself be happy and feel good while being happy. He can't stand gentleness, or softness. In his head, he can't give that to Baz, because he can't handle it himself.

So, yes, Simon bites Baz because he wants to be bitten. And he bites Baz because he knows Baz can handle it. And he bites Baz because there's an emptiness inside of him that he's still trying to fill, and he doesn't understand how to do that. Someday, he will fill it. He and Baz are going to figure that out together.

I hope this makes sense. With your indulgence, Anon, I'm going to tag in @theflyingpeach who is all around brilliant, and I know has their own thoughts about this scene (and demon Simon 👀👀👀) that I would like to see more of. 🥰

A follow up to this ask can be found here.

Further reading on the relationship between consumption, food, and love compiled here.

#awtwb spoilers #asks #simon snow #baz pitch #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #snowbaz #biting #love as consumption

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railingsofsorrow · 2 years

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Unexpected Encounter

[tasm!peter parker × reader]

summary: where reader stumbles on another Peter Parker.

pairing: tasm!peter parker × fem!reader

w.c: 4K

warnings/content: mentions of acrophobia; for some reason I never count cursing as a warning but I should right? so → cursing; no way home spoilers; the amazing spiderman spoilers; non-main character death; near death experiences; some fluff if you squint.

A/N: a WIP that has been on my drafts for too long.

➶ ➷

The bomb exploded. Evil was unleashed. The apocalypse was about to happen.

Whatever you desire to call the unstoppable wave of problems that was about to hit New York's city right now — better yet, Peter Parker's life.

Y/N was pretty much losing it for she hadn't found her best friend anywhere. The moment she had crossed the streets to go up to Peter and May's apartment an army of flashes, cameras, and questions were being yelled at her. “She's friends with him!” “Are you Spiderman's girlfriend?” “Why are you dating a killer?” The last one caused her to flinch. Who do they think they were to call Peter Parker a killer? A killer? Mysterio was the prick that began this mess but how could people believe him accusing a seventeen-year-old teenager? That hasn't done anything to hurt anyone, despite the false rumors going around.

She hated Quentin Beck. And if she had had the chance, she'd kill him herself.

“Where the hell could you possibly be right now that you're not answering your phone, Peter? Call me back!” Realizing she managed to lose the reporters around the apartment area, a breath was let out in relief. As her eyes scanned the history of unanswered calls to Peter, she scoffed. You Idiot. Completely fool— “Ah!” She bumped into a body, almost falling with her ass on the ground if two arms hadn't caught her in time. The stranger's fingers grazed her waist firmly as her breath got stuck in her throat. The moment the familiar mask caught her eyes, she opened her mouth, which was covered by his hand as he pressed his index finger against his mouth, mentioning for her to be silent.

A swarm of journalists ran past the alley they were currently in, probably diverted by Spiderman himself; who was right in front of her.

Peter yelped upon receiving a slap and stared at her as if she was crazy.

“Where were you? I've been looking everywhere for you. I thought something had happened, Peter!”

Peter stepped back, warily. “What?” How does she know my name?

Y/N gave him a deadpan look, “With Quentin's words being spread around, what did you expect me to be like? Peter, we need to—”

He stepped back again, his back against the wall as he pulled his hands up for her to stop getting closer. Why was this girl calling him by his name? He had never seen her in his entire life!

Y/N frowned, watching his actions. “What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” Peter shrieked out, “How do you know me?”

Y/N analysed the person in front of her up and down. His voice... was slightly different? No, her stress must be playing tricks on her.

“Peter, what do you mean?”

“I've never seen you in my entire life. How do you know me?”

No. That was definitely not Peter's voice.

Something in her brain clicked and everything made sense. The multiverse. Could this be another Spider-Man? Another Peter Parker? No. No, that's just—

“Take off your mask.” She ordered.

Peter scoffed, crossing his arms, “What?” He was caught off guard.

“Come here, let me just—” Peter backed away, almost bumping into the trashcan but his spider senses didn't let it happen. Y/N frowned when he swung by her, sticking to the wall. “Peter Parker!”

“Stop it— stop saying my name!”

Y/N shook her head, eyes widening in indignation. “I know you. I knew you were Spider-Man before you thought I knew it. Just take off your mask! Are you playing a prank on me or something cause this isn't...” The next words died in her throat because the boy had taken the mask off just like she was asking him to do. That was not Peter Parker. “You're not... you're not Peter Parker.”

“Yes, I am.” He tried approaching her this time but she stepped back, a cautious expression taking over. Peter sighed. “I am Peter Parker, in my universe?” He tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. She'd find endearing if not the current situation. The stubble in his face showed a slightly more adult Peter Parker than the one she knew.

Before Y/N could give him a reply, she was pushed away by a photographer. Suddenly the alley they were in was swarmed with people wanting to take a picture of Spider-Man.

Peter got desperate when he didn't find the girl he was talking to, but he put on the mask by instinct.

“Peter, Peter! How do you feel about murdering Mysterio completely cold-blooded?”

“Here, Peter!”

“Take off your mask we already know who you are!”

“Hey! Don't touch her!” He yelled to one of the journalists that had gripped the girl's arms. He quickly webbed the man's arm to the wall and took the girl by the waist, swinging away between buildings.

“Fuck!” Y/N exclaimed in fear as her nails latched onto the hero's shoulder. Peter hissed quietly, landing on the top of a building that he judge safe for no one to circle them with cameras. Inspecting to see if his arm was in one piece, he drifted his attention back to her. He choked out a laugh because of her terrified expression. “Get me down, now.”

Y/N was frozen in the spot. She couldn't help in looking down and it was so high! She obviously was not that great with heights. Being friends with Spider-Man did not help with that whatsoever.

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Peter requested. An unsuccessful attempt, given that she wouldn't look away. Peter frowned, touching her elbow and pulling her away from the frightening image to the middle of the building so she couldn't stare down anymore. Her eyes finally reached his and he watched her visibly relax under his touch. He took that as permission to place his hands on her shoulders, “It's alright. This is safe, you can't fall.”

The girl gulped, nodding. Hands slightly shaking from the flying. Peter resisted the urge to hold them.

Retracting his hands, Peter cleared his throat awkwardly, looking away. “Uh, I still don't know your name.”

Y/N blinked, eyebrows raised. “Right. It's- it's Y/N.” A smile raised the corners of his lips. “Peter?”

He hummed, tilting his head to the side. She watched the way the mask imitated his expressions.

“We need to find the other Peter. I don't have a good feeling about this.” That made him straighten up his posture, suddenly becoming serious. He needed to find him too. Something was wrong, he could sense it. The Peter Parker in front of her agreed.

“Do you know where he might be?”

Y/N carried a faraway gaze as she thought it over; and then her eyes lit up. “Yes! I do. I'll guide you, is that okay?”

Peter nodded, approaching her. “You ready?”

She sighed, clearly anxious about what was to come. Peter leaned his face down until their eyes could meet again. “Hi,”

“Hi,” Y/N said faintly, making him grin.

“I know we don't know each other enough for you to trust me, Y/N,” Peter said. “But, believe me when I say I have a good experience on swinging, alright?” He offered a hand, asking silently if she could accept what he was saying. Y/N rolled her eyes, closing their space as she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding onto him as tightly as she could without choking the boy to death. This wasn't the moment to be a scaredy cat. Peter gulped with the sudden lack of personal space, feeling shivers right where her skin touched his but quickly brushed it away. A hand involved her waist while another webbed onto a building close by. “Ready?” He repeated the question. He needed an explicit answer from her to be a hundred percent sure.

“As ready as I'll ever be.” Y/N breathes out nervously on his neck, and Peter squeezes her side in reassurance before their feet are suspended from the secure floor and went open falling.

Y/N watched as three Spidermans discussed what happened in their lives in the past few years. A lot of it is similar. Her brain exploded with the new information— everything that proved that the multiverse was real.

“I'm sorry I didn't see your calls,” Y/N blinked away from her daydream and focused on her best friend's doe eyes in front of her. “I barely touched my phone I don't even know where it is right now.”

Her eyes immediately softened, “It's okay.” She let out. “I'm not mad,” Once she caught the split lip and bloodied eyebrow her forehead creased slightly in concern, “I was just worried— what happened, Peter?”

Sharing a look with Ned and MJ. “Long story. I'll fill you in later.”

Y/N frowned but nodded.

When Peter explained the plan and what they had to do — get a cure for all of the villains of the other universes — things seemed simpler than they actually were. Well, did that really matter? She was in on this since the beginning. It's not like she would leave her friends hanging. Y/N wouldn't go anywhere.

“You wouldn't go home even if I begged you, would you?” Her Peter asked, staring deeply into her eyes as if that would make anything better. Peter Parker and his puppy eyes. Not this time.

Y/N crossed her arms, averting her attention somewhere else so he wouldn't catch her blush. She ended up finding warm amber eyes analyzing her curiously.

“No,” She replied, gulping and moving towards the newest Peter she had just met. Yes, it happens to be another one. “Need any help with that?” Y/N mentioned for the lab utensils the blue-eyed man was organizing so he could start the process. He lift his attention to her in a split second and gave her a soft smile.

“I got it. Ask that guy. I'm sure he will.” He snickered, winking playfully and then going back to work as if nothing happened.

Y/N giggled, turning to the messy table the tallest Peter was working on. “Hello,” She said in a faint tone, touching a vial where a light blue substance gleamed thanks to the lampshade.

“If it touches your skin it could make you into a bunny. Careful.”

Her eyes widened as she pulled her fingers back quickly. Peter chuckled, causing his goggles to lean down. Y/N sighed heavily.

“Oh, so you got a sense of humor?” She says.

“I try my best.” He shrugged, grinning when he saw she was glaring at him.

As hard as it is to imagine, Peter had let her help on making the cure for Doctor Connors. Even if it was by just handing him chemical utensils or mixing colorful liquids; she was not gonna lie, she felt a bit important. Considering she sucked at chemistry.

“So this goes... here. Right?” Y/N tilted her head in slight doubt between the vials she was supposed to choose. “Peter.”

Oh.

He was staring straight ahead, in a deep concentration and with a small crease between his eyebrows. Peter and MJ were talking in quiet tones, foreheads touching, only they were able to hear each other, really, but that was not what this was about. Peter stared at them as if he was reminiscing something. A painful memory. Gwen. Y/N pulled the girl's name from when he had confessed to having lost someone special in his life. His MJ.

A pinch in her chest forced her to stop breathing. They're your best friends. And they're in love. How could you feel jealous? Don't be selfish.

“Hey.”

Y/N blink away the wetness in her eyelids, finally coming back to the vials. “Yeah, hm. I need to know which one—”

“You okay?” Peter stepped towards her, standing in front of where the heartfelt scene was happening. She felt a little relief inside.

Y/N nodded, forcing out a smile. Until it, all got too much and she had to hold back a sob. Peter pulled the vials out of her hands in swift action and took her hands in his. Why is she so cold? That was his first thought.

He never moved away until she calmed down.

The oldest one in the room watched the scene unfold with slight concern, but decided to not intervene.

“I'm sorry. Jesus fucking Christ.” Y/N mumbled, parting one of their intertwined hands so she could wipe away her tear-stained cheeks furiously.

“Don't apologize. It's not your fault.” Peter said, holding her wrist away from her face so she wouldn't hurt herself. “It's not.”

Y/N was ashamed. Ashamed because he knew. He knew.

“You know,” He said after a while, brushing a stray tear away from her cheek. “That's the last step. You wanna do it?”

Yet, he didn't pry. And she was grateful.

Y/N nodded, sniffling. Following his requests, they finished the Lizard cure. Wow, that was fast. Or was it because it had been the first nice and not trashed experience she had done in a lab?

“Everybody knows what to do, right?” the youngest Parker questioned, grabbing the cellphone he would use to call the Daily Bugle.

When everyone agreed, the three Peters went to get ready.

“Okay, so...” MJ started.

“We'll hold this until the sign.” Ned completed her line of thought.

Y/N walked to her brunette friend, intertwining their arms.

“It'll be okay. It's gonna work.” She tried to comfort the anxious girl even if she was a mess of anxiety herself.

“Yeah. We have magic and Spidermen on our side!” Ned exclaimed, attracting the attention of the heroes.

Y/N snickered as MJ rolled her eyes.

It had been a few hours since the battle had begun; Y/N, Ned, and MJ were on a tight schedule to close the portal. Except that Ned couldn't do it.

“Just- just do it, Ned.”

“I'm trying!”

“You know, maybe we should-uh, t-take a breath. In and out, calm down. See if it works.”

Ned nodded quickly to the suggestion and started to exercise his breathing. Until a big green creature was aiming right to where they were.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Y/N looked around helplessly.

“Ned, this is the time! Do it!” MJ pressed, alternating her attention between her best friend and the gigantic Lizard that was getting too close for her liking.

"Why is it still open?!" The Peter from their universe yelled, trying to push the monster away from the portal.

"I don't know!" Ned yelled back, moving his hands around franticly.

"Guys, c'mon," Y/N grabbed their forearms, pulling them back in case something was about to happen. She could practically feel it.

As soon as they begin to step away from the portal, the Lizard came in, crashing into the shelves, tables, and everything else that was in front of it. Shoving both of her friends to a corner of the room, Y/N inhaled sharply as Peter was punched right in the stomach by the green creature, making him being launched right where the broken glass utensils had been thrown.

Didn't take long for Peter to get back on his feet, albeit being clearly hurt by the shards of glass.

Y/N realized she was being held back.

"We have to stay here," MJ said softly. Y/N could hear the sightly shaken-up tone she carried.

"Uh... guys," Ned called their attention. When they saw what he had been staring at, Y/N's mouth went dry. The square that held the power was on the other side of the room; if any of the bad guys had that, not only their universe but all of the multiverses would be screwed.

"Okay," Y/N mumbled, eyes shifting as she thought over a plan in her head.

"Okay? Nothing is okay! We are gonna die!"

"Shut up, Ned." MJ shushed him. "We need to grab it— What are you doing, Y/N?!" Michelle Jones could feel her heart on her throat the moment she watched the girl run to the opposite side of the room in the direction of the fight. "Come back here, Y/N! Oh, my god!"

Peter widened his eyes as he caught Y/N behind him and the lizard. It was too late when Peter attempted to distract the monster, who had also seen her; it had already started to chase her down.

"I got it!" Y/N whisper-yelled, showing the magical material to her friends proudly. However, it was not relieved faces she received back but rather fear-stricken looks that pointed to her back. That was when she heard Peter Parker roar her name behind her.

Then, she started to run.

She had success in throwing the magic artifact to Ned, who caught it perfectly, howbeit, her struggle on running away from the freaking mutant had proved to be quite difficult. Peter managed to give a few punches here and there, but the lizard seemed pretty keen on who he wanted now; for it had finally discovered Spiderman's weak spot.

"We need to get out of here, Ned," MJ warned, inspecting the falling building they were on. "Shit."

Y/N thought nothing could get worst until her feet dangled from the edge and she almost slipped to her death. Almost being the keyword, because she managed to hold onto one of the tubulation pipes, fortunately.

Ned and MJ watched in desperation as Y/N was hanging – barely – on the falling building.

"Y/N!" Peter marveled terrified while trying to get the damn lizard off of him so he could save his best friend. "Y/N, hang on, alright? I'm coming!"

She gulped, feeling her sweaty palms work on sliding her fingers from the metal. No. This isn't how I die. This can't be how I die.

Although, after a few seconds she came to the realization that that was exactly how she would die for the tube she was hanging on bent down and she slithered out. The youngest Spiderman quickly threw a web in her direction as he finally succeed in getting away from the lizard, but it went over the girl's head. The only thing he could do was to get to her in time. Please, please. Just a little bit more... The green goblin proceeded to take Peter away just as the boy had touched Y/N's fingers.

"No!"

Maybe it was the determination that made him move so fast, or perhaps it had been the familiar sight of a special someone almost slipping from the grasp of life. This time, however, he got her.

Y/N was panting heavily. Peter could see her chest going up and down. It made him relived. The simple fact that she was alive caused him to crumble in warm tears.

Gwen.

Gwen, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry that I didn't catch you.

“Are you okay?” Peter croaked out halfheartedly.

There, in his arms, watching his eyes fill with sad tears and a feeling she couldn't place, Y/N felt her chest squeeze painfully. She leaned down from his arms so she could stand up fully, still staring at him.

“I'm okay. Peter... Are you okay?”

He nodded, drying his tears quickly as if they were never there.

“Yeah, yeah.”

There wasn't much thought on what happened next; she wrapped her arms around him, attempting to bring the man some comfort.

He exhaled a breath by the action, letting his face resting on her shoulder for a moment. Letting himself be vulnerable for a moment.

“Thank you.” She mumbled, squeezing her embrace on him to express that she really meant what she said.

Peter shook his head, leaning away, “You don't need to thank me for that, Y/N.”

“I do. Because I know it took a lot in you to do what you just did now.” She sent him a sad smile. “And I also know it did not bring back happy memories.”

Peter studied her features; amazed that even after just getting out of a death threatening situation she still had the capability to empathize.

The moment Peter got closer to her, a shriek behind him made his stops in his tracks.

“What were you thinking?!” Peter approached them, not noticing anyone but Y/N, whose shoulders slumped when she realized what was coming. “Running to your death? You know how seriously injured you could've been—”

“But I'm not—”

“You could've!” Peter yelled, gesticulating exaggeratedly with his hands

Y/N shrugged. Her best friend scoffed in disbelief.

“I got the artifact. And I'm pretty sure you still need to cure those guys so what are you still doing here?” With no more than a glare, the youngest Spiderman left.

She heard a soft chuckle from beside her, causing her to turn in his direction.

“Guess this applies to me too.”

“Be careful,” Y/N advised, analyzing his damaged suit with a frown. “Peter—”

“I'm alright. This isn't the worst, trust me.” He reassured her with a soft look. You don't need to worry about me. Please don't.

She bit her cheek, “Okay. Still, be careful.”

Peter mumbled a will be and jumped to where the others were.

“And come back.” She let out in a whisper, watching the fight unfold in the crashing building.

Y/N didn't know that saying goodbye to a stranger could be so painful. It hadn't been a week—days—of knowing this other Peter Parker. And yet, there was a connection. Maybe she was crazy for thinking like this, definitely precipitated. But who commanded the heart?

“Hi,”

Y/N stopped watching the sunlight to face him. She smiled.

“Hey, Spider-Man.”

Peter smirked, kicking a rock away into the lake as he approached her slowly.

“You ready to go back?” She inquired, turning to him.

Peter raised his head to stare at the view she had been watching. The sunset was beautiful.

“Not really.”

Y/N blinked in surprise, “Why?” She paused, “Oh, wait. You and the other you definitely got attached to that one, didn't you? You guys were acting like brothers not even five minutes ago.”

Peter let out a loud laugh. Y/N was sure she never heard anything that pleased her ears like that before.

“The other me,” Peter mocked, “You just spoke in codes but, surprisingly, I got everything.”

“Of course, you did, nerd.”

He displayed a full proud grin to her.

They stood side by side for long minutes. It felt like hours and it never got uncomfortable. Peter couldn't remember how long ago had he felt at ease with someone like this. And now, he had to leave.

“What's going on?” Peter asked, on the opposite side of where his best friend and his friend were talking.

MJ noticed his narrowed eyes and slapped the back of his head. Ned burst out laughing. Peter complained in a whine.

“Don't even think about interrupting.”

“I wasn't—”

“Yes, you were.”

“Okay!”

“Did I miss something though?” Peter insisted, surveying their body language as he massaged the abused spot in his head. “They seem so...”

“Cozy? Yeah.” MJ completed his line of thought, smirking.

“They bonded fast, I guess.” Ned shrugged.

“Oh, they did for sure.” The oldest Parker chimed in, also staring at them with an unreadable look.

“I'll miss you,” Y/N confessed, frowning upon feeling the familiar tightness on her throat. “I barely know you but I'll miss you.”

Peter's eyes softened and he smiled at her. He hesitated before moving a hand to touch her cheek, but she didn't move away so he took that as consent.

“I'll miss you, too.” His fingers traveled against her cheek. “Try not to be stuck in high places from now on, alright?”

Y/N pressed her lips together to not laugh, “You put me in those high places, idiot.”

Peter chuckled, eyes glinting with something Y/N couldn't place but she liked it.

When he said goodbye and disappeared like dust, she felt a heavy feeling on her chest. When she said goodbye and stayed in the same spot as he walked away, he felt sadness creep up on him once again. Peter didn't want to leave, but he couldn't stay. Y/N wished she could go, but she had to stay.

In their minds, attached to their brains like glue, would always float the unsaid words and unfinished actions that they wished to have done. But, time had just been too short and the universes weren't the same.

#peter parker × reader #reader insert #fluff #peter parker x you #no way home imagine #spiderman x reader

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