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pin-k-ink · 4 months ago

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REMINDER ⋆✦⋆ hoshina soshiro

synopsis ➸ two days. he couldn’t last two days without you.

tags ➸ needy!hoshina, mutual masturbation, dry humping, phone sex, voice kink, dirty talking, squirting, nipple play, implied shower sex (in flashback)

wc ➸ 2.7k

Soshiro groaned as he flopped back on the bed, one arm slung over his eyes. It had only been two days since you shipped out for that mission, but he was already losing his mind without you around.

He breathed in deeply, instantly surrounded by the lingering traces of your familiar scent on the sheets. Instinctively, Soshiro reached over and grabbed your pillow, hugging it close and inhaling the intoxicating floral notes. Just the barest hint of lavender had tension unwinding in his shoulders as he pictured you tucked against his side once more.

With a frustrated growl, he rolled onto his stomach - face buried in the soft fabric as he fought to keep inappropriate thoughts about you at bay. But the subtle fragrance clung to his senses, stirring up vivid memories of nuzzling against the sensitive spots behind your ear, nosing through your tousled hair while your body molded perfectly to his.

Already, Soshiro felt himself growing aroused, hardening against the mattress as he rutted his hips shamelessly. Your pillow clutched tightly, he imagined it was your plush curves instead - the soft give of your ass cradling his swollen cock as he ground himself along that warm crevice with quiet desperation.

"Fuck...babygirl," he groaned, torn between pushing those forbidden thoughts aside or surrendering fully to chasing release. "What you do to me even when you're gone..."

It didn't help that your shampoo and body wash perfumed the air around him, clouding his senses with fresh reminders. Soshiro could still picture rivulets of soapy water trailing over the valleys of your back and shoulders from the night before you shipped out. How you'd arched into his roaming hands and sighed contentedly while he lathered every inch of your supple skin.

Soshiro bit his lip, recalling the way his fingertips grazed over your puckered nipples as he helped rinse you off. The soft moans that spilled from your mouth when his fingers brushed your clit before his hand slipped lower to cup the wet heat between your thighs.

That had quickly morphed into heated kisses under the spray, his calloused palms gripping your plush rear to grind his leaking cock together with your dripping pussy. The sounds of your breathless moans still rang in Soshiro's ears, spurring him on as he humped the mattress with increasing fervor now.

One hand shoved down the front of his loose sweats, fisting the throbbing length that remained painfully unsatisfied without your velvety cunt enveloping it snugly. Soshiro swore under his breath, all thoughts of restraint vanishing as he rapidly stroked himself to the mental images of you writhing and whimpering beneath him that final time.

Screw waiting for your return - he needed some form of release now before he completely lost his mind. His hips surged mindlessly as his fist rapidly brought himself to the precipice, jaw clenched and panting harshly. Just a few more tugs and he could pretend it was your velvet walls instead, dragging every drop of ecstasy from him in shuddering waves while you cried out his name.

Soshiro tensed, gut clenching as he verged on the edge. But even as his body thrashed towards oblivion, he couldn't escape craving your actual presence around him in the throes of rapture. No fantasy or desperate rutting could ever fully replace the transcendent bliss of your limbs tangling together while he hilted himself completely over and over.

With a guttural groan, Soshiro reached for his phone as dissatisfaction sparked fresh frustration despite his impending peak. Thumbs flew across the screen as he typed out the unbridled truth in a rare moment of vulnerability.

I'm losing my goddamn mind over here, gorgeous.

He shifted restlessly as the message went through, trying and failing to stave off his urges while awaiting any reply from your end that could ease this aching chasm.

Because even as his own release crested in shuddery spasms, thick, white ropes painting his chest, Soshiro already yearned for the day's end - when you would return to soothe his maddening hunger at long last...

You stretched out on the narrow bed with a tired sigh, the day's mission finally behind you for now. As various teammates shuffled around outside your temporary barracks quarters, you allowed yourself a rare moment of peace by checking your phone.

Your breath hitched at the unread message notification with Soshiro's name blazing across the top. Already you could envision the needy rasp of his voice, imagining whatever salacious words might paint your screen before even opening it.

I'm losing my goddamn mind over here, gorgeous.

You smirked at the predictably dramatic confession, cheeks flushing at the implications behind such a declaration. Of course your boyfriend would be climbing the walls in desperation after a mere two nights apart. The man was utterly insatiable in his constant need for physicality and the intimacy you shared.

Chewing your lip, you quickly typed out a reply.

Miss me that much already, tough guy? We'll be shipping back in like twelve hours tops.

His response was nearly instantaneous, making you squirm against the firm mattress.

That's half a day too long, babygirl. Been going outta my mind thinking of you and still walking around with this raging hard-on because of it. No fucking relief in sight...

You stifled a whimper at the blatant confession, heat swirling low in your belly as you imagined Soshiro sprawled out and aching for you back home. No doubt he was picturing all the ways he'd devour you upon your return, still worked up and deliciously frustrated with every passing hour apart.

Before you could overthink it, you tugged up the hem of your sleep shirt and snapped a quick photo from beneath the covers - the soft swell of your breasts barely concealed by the rumpled fabric and nipples peeking through the thin cloth. Impulsively, you hit send before-guessing could halt you.

There was a brief pause before your phone buzzed with another reply.

"Fuck, [Y/N]..." Soshiro's growled rasp through the voice note made your thighs clench instinctively. "You're playing with fire, sweetheart. Though I suppose I did ask for you to put me out of my misery one way or another after that lil' tease..."

You bit back a whine, hand already drifting beneath the covers to where slick was rapidly pooling between your thighs. There was no doubt in your mind that Soshiro was already touching himself, stroking that deliciously thick cock you craved while imagining what he'd do to you once you were back in his arms.

"Then let me indulge in some more details for you, tough guy," you finally replied, voice thick with need. "I'm totally stripped down now, just picturing you towering over me and pinning my wrists while you work me open with those fingers first..."

You let the fantasy tumble out in explicit detail after that, describing every lick and thrust you wished Soshiro could bestow upon your body. Each passing sentence seemed to make the empty ache inside you grow until you were squirming restlessly, fingers circling your swollen clit in frantic little motions.

Through it all, Soshiro didn't interrupt - only the occasional grunt or shuddering inhale giving away that he was matching your blazing words thrust for desperate thrust as you painted the most lurid scenes.

Only once you were reduced to a breathless, whimpering mess did his grated response finally filter through: "That's it, gorgeous...make me feel every goddamn fantasy you got coiled up inside that sexy head of yours. Gonna ruin us both all over again when you finally get back here, I swear it..."

You trembled at the promise, pussy clenching around your fingers as yet another forbidden image of Soshiro's roped physique surging over you slammed into your mind's eye. Already you could feel the molten rapture searing your veins at the prospect of his long-awaited homecoming rapidly approaching.

So you poured every lewd fantasy and carnal temptation you could into stoking both your fraying desires higher as your release finally crested. All the while praying those final fevered hours would somehow slip past so the glorious reckoning awaiting your ravished bodies could begin anew.

You lay panting softly as the aftershocks gradually ebbed, chest heaving and sweat-dampened hair sticking to your brow. A fresh buzz from your phone made you fumble for it amidst the tangled sheets.

"[Y/N], baby...please," Soshiro's voice rasped out in another voice message. You could immediately picture him wrecked - powerful frame sprawled boneless after chasing release to the vivid fantasies you painted. But his desperation clearly lingered strong.

"Can't keep going like this," he gasped out roughly, the sound of sheets rustling indicating he was shifting restlessly. "Need to hear that pretty voice of yours properly...all breathy and needy while you touch yourself thinking about me being there doing it instead."

You whimpered at the blatant plea, clenching your thighs instinctively as slick arousal throbbed between them anew. Despite the delirious high you were only just floating down from, Soshiro's unmistakable yearning set your senses aflame all over again.

"Please, gorgeous...call me," he practically growled, sounding utterly wrecked. "Lemme hear all the filthy little noises I'm missing out on right now."

The recording clicked off abruptly and you wasted no time scrambling up to hit the video call request symbol before your racing thoughts could catch up. Moments later, Soshiro's disheveled figure filled the display in all his rugged glory.

His powerful torso was bare and glistening with a light sheen, muscles tensing deliciously as he propped himself up on one arm. The other hand was blatantly trailing below the frame, movements stuttering ever so slightly at the sight of you flushed and rumpled on the tiny screen.

"There's my girl," he rumbled in that gravelly timbre you loved so much, gaze roving hungrily. "Looking just as wrecked as I pictured while I jerked myself to your voice..."

You tried and failed to bite back a needy sound, eyes dropping to take in the bulge of his arm shifting rhythmically beneath the sheets. There was no mistaking what he was doing, completely shameless in his blatant desperation.

"Soshiro..." you whined, one hand toying with the hem of your shirt almost shyly despite the bold way his stare pinned you. "You can't just ask me to—to put on a show like that, God..."

He growled low in his chest at your squirming protest, quicksilver eyes burning into yours with unchecked intensity. "Need to hear that sweet voice and watch you cum for me properly, baby...the visuals and audio clips just ain't cuttin' it anymore. You're driving me outta my mind over here."

Any lingering hesitation bled away at the gravelly plea. With newfound boldness, you tugged your shirt over your head and tossed it aside - exposing your flushed skin for his devouring perusal. Soshiro's abdominal muscles clenched visibly, breath stuttering at the sight.

"Pretty girl..." he growled in quiet benediction. In an instant, the distinct sounds of frantic pumping filled the air again as he stroked himself to full attention. "My gorgeous queen treating me to the real thing at last after keeping me begging and starving for two days now...c'mon, take proper care of that ache for me."

Any restraint shattered in the face of his desperate need. Laying back, you allowed the hand not gripping your phone to roam your overheated form in teasing circuits - rolling a nipple between your fingertips with a breathless gasp. Soshiro swore vividly at the display, fist pumping rapidly as his hooded stare pinned you in place utterly.

"That's it...make a mess of yourself until all you can think about is me being there to fuck you properly," he rumbled with dark promise. "Gonna ruin every inch of you until your pretty eyes roll back when I finally get my mouth all over that sexy body again, I swear it..."

You cried out at the explicit promise, thighs parting shamelessly as the slick sounds of Soshiro stroking himself echoed between you. Your hips rocked up instinctively, one hand dipping lower to rub furiously at your clit. "S-Soshiro, wanna see you too...all of you."

The breathless request was enough to make him growl in approval, one massive arm flexing as he shifted to rip the sheets aside completely. Your hungry eyes drank in the sight of his frame looming on the tiny screen, muscles flexing and cock jutting thick and rigid against his rippling abs.

"This what you wanted, gorgeous?" he asked with a smirk, free hand gripping the base and stroking upward. His thumb swiped over the flared crown, spreading a glistening pearl of pre-cum across the sensitive slit and making him hiss through his teeth. "Wish it was your pretty little mouth wrapping around my cock instead, baby..."

A fresh flood of heat flooded your core, pussy clenching around your digits as you whimpered. "Want it, wanna suck you so bad," you whined, already craving the stretch of his thickness filling your mouth to the brim. "Need it, please..."

"I know, babygirl," he panted out, hips rocking up in a frenzied tempo as his grip tightened. "And I'm gonna give it to you properly once you're back home, I swear it...just need a lil' reminder to tide me over until then. So get those fingers inside yourself now, gorgeous. Give me a good show for waiting so patiently..."

The ragged rasp in his voice sent a fresh wave of arousal crashing over you. You didn't hesitate this time, sinking twofingers knuckle-deep with a loud cry as your hips jerked up. Soshiro's answering groan filled the air as his pace surged, muscles cording and glistening as he rutted into his fist.

"Just like that," he urged breathlessly, eyes raking over your writhing body. "Fuck, I can hear how wet you are even over the phone...bet you're gonna drench my cock the second I'm inside you."

You keened helplessly, head thrown back as you pumped your digits rapidly, grinding the heel of your palm against your swollen clit. The mental image he conjured up had your whole body seizing in rapturous agony.

"Goddamn, baby...you're a goddamn vision," Soshiro rasped. His eyes burned into you from the screen, quicksilver gaze smoldering with pure adoration and a darker hunger. "You close, gorgeous? Gonna cum for me like this, knowing I'm jerking off watching every inch of that sexy body fall apart?"

"Y-Yes!" you wailed, legs quaking as the coiling pressure in your gut threatened to snap. "So close, oh God, Soshiro...miss you so fucking much, just need to—"

Your babbling dissolved into a strangled scream as your orgasm crashed over you, hips jerking wildly as something wetsplattered your wrist and belly. Distantly, you could hear Soshiro cursing a litany as his pace quickened.

"Fucking hell, look at the mess you made," he growled, fist pumping furiously now. "That's it, just keep gushing and cumming for me, gorgeous...I'm almost—"

You watched his expression twist, a choked gasp escaping as he shuddered and erupted in thick ropes of white, splashing across his tensed abdomen. The sight left you whimpering anew, fingers still rubbing your pulsing walls and milking out the last of your orgasm.

When you both finally regained control, you were a trembling mess - Soshiro's panting breaths still filtering through the speaker. "Fuuuck," he groaned, lazily rubbing his cock through the mess he'd made and spreading it all over his skin.

"So goddamn hot," he added with a wolfish grin, staring back at your flushed form with renewed hunger. "But I think I'm even more turned on by how badly I miss having you around to actually clean this up for me, babe..."

You whined at the thought, biting your lip and feeling another gush of slick coating your fingers at the mere suggestion. Soshiro groaned at the display, licking his lips and stroking himself idly. "C'mon, sweetheart...I know you love the taste of me, but why don't you clean those fingers off properly and give me something nice to fantasize about instead."

The low command made your pussy clench in renewed need. Without a word, you quickly obeyed - bringing your soaked digits up and sucking them clean one by one. You made a point of swirling your tongue obscenely, humming in approval as the musky flavor flooded your mouth.

"God, woman..." Soshiro rasped, the sight clearly spurring him back to full hardness already. He smirked as you stared hungrily at his engorged cock, twitching in his grasp. "Don't worry, babygirl. You'll be choking on this soon enough. Just a few more hours and I'm gonna make good on all these promises, I swear it."

#kaiju 8 x reader smut #kaiju 8 smut #kaiju 8 x reader #kaijuu no. 8 x reader #kaijuu no. 8 #kaijuu 8 #hoshina soshiro x reader smut #hoshina smut #hoshina x reader smut #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro smut #hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina x reader #soshiro x reader smut #soshiro smut #soshiro x reader

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quietly-sleeping · 5 months ago

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Shen Qingqiu wanted to kill one of his fellow Peak Lords.

At least, that was what the rumors swirling around Cang Qiong said. The disciples couldn’t seem to agree on who the Qing Jing Peak Lord wanted to kill; just that he had sent his disciples out with an order to retrieve.

Shang Qinghua was the first of the Peak Lords to hear the rumors, his disciples had gotten more chatty than usual, the typical workload for anyone on the peak not leaving much energy to do much of anything. Other than gossip, as it turns out.

“Shizun,” His poor, overworked Head Disciple spoke up while they were sorting out yet another tower of papers into only mildly less intimidating stacks. “This disciple was wondering, has Shen-shibo said anything…worrying lately?”

“In what way, Wu Xiaoli?” Shang Qinghua didn’t stop his work, he really couldn’t, he barely had any time at all to himself after working to the bone every day, if he stopped at all he’d have to forgo sleep to get it all done. “In a murderous way?” Wu Xiaoli was hesitant as she said this, her hands barely slowing as well, what a good disciple.

“Your Shen-shibo is almost always like that, is something specific supposed to be happening?” Shang Qinghua glanced over at her, her prolonged silence stretching for a moment more before she spoke again. “In the way that most of Cang Qiong believes he is trying to capture and then kill one of his martial siblings.” Wu Xiaoli let that sit in the air for a moment before adding, “It should be fine, right Shizun?”

Shang Qinghua really regretted being reborn. “Yes, you could say that Wu Xiaoli.” He felt faint. The paperwork, just the thought of the paperwork a murder like that would spawn nearly sent Shang Qinghua into a panic attack, nausea starting to build in his throat already.

Which would lead to a visit from Mu-shidi, who while nice, was still trying to drug him with anxiety meds that Shang Qinghua did not need, thank you very much. He could feel Wu Xiaoli staring at him as he pondered how viable throwing himself off the mountain would be for knocking him unconscious, very viable, with only a mild threat of death, before she looked out the window and jolted.

“Forgive this disciple, Shizun, Tan-shijie requested a meeting about the salary allotted for building a new garden on Qiong Ding.” Wu Xiaoli hurriedly sorted the last few papers in her hands before standing and nervously brushing at her yellow robes.

“Don’t get scammed too badly this time.” Shang Qinghua said around the lump in his throat as he fished another very late work order for Bai Zhan, thank you Liu-shidi. Wu Xiaoli pouted for a moment, looking ten years old rather than nineteen before turning on her heel and marching out the door. “This disciple will try her best, Shizun!” She called out behind her.

Shang Qinghua did not hold back on the panicked sobs of dread now that his disciple was gone. He was more open with his sobbing response to issues when she was younger, but that led to a good year or so when Mu-shidi was very blatant in drugging his food and tea with anxiety meds.

The despondent Peak Lord angled himself so any tears wouldn’t hit the delicate paper covered in ink. He may have to appear red and puffy later, but by the gods that had forsaken him, he would not ruin his paperwork.

Qi Qingqi was the next to hear about the rumors. Her usually on-top-of-things Head Disciple, Shi Fa, was distracted by the adorable new addition to their Peak, little Liu Mingyan. The four-year-old giving the poor girl a run for her money.

It was amusing, but it did prove that perhaps Shi Fa wouldn’t be a great fit for Peak Lord. Which was an utter shame, the girl was perfect in every other aspect, Qi Qingqi mused on the issue for a moment before nodding to herself, a Hall Master then.

They’d do better only interacting with the students in a more detached manner, still there to advise or support the Peak Lord’s decisions. Qi Qingqi looked back down at the report that had made its way onto her desk, the handwriting hurried with ink blotches and missed strokes.

Shi Fa had heard the rumor while attempting to track down Liu Mingyan on Bai Zhan and extract her from the feral child colony that populated the Peak. One of the eldest of the feral children had been hired by a disciple of Qing Jing, needing their help since they had left the sect more often and to varied places.

Shi Fa had located Liu Mingyan and managed to contain the delightful ball of fury while gathering more information, Shen Qingqiu had ordered a fetch mission on a martial sibling. None of the Qing Jing disciples actually fessed up to which martial sibling it was, but Qi Qingqi was certain it was not one of the Peak Lords.

Since a murder had not happened during the last Peak Lord meeting, and Shen Qingqiu had been no more nasty than usual. The true question was, out of the martial siblings wandering the world, which had managed to offend Shen Qinqiu so deeply while having not stepped foot into Cang Qiong in roughly ten years at this point?

Truly, what an amusing situation, Qi Qingqi could barely keep herself from giggling like a young maiden at the possible reasons this whole situation played out. Her darling wife would suggest something along the lines of a romantic falling out, which Qi Qingqi would normally agree with, as her wife was always right, but it was Shen Qingqiu they were talking about.

Honestly, the man wouldn’t know romance if it bit him in the ass.

Shen Qingqiu heard the rumors and felt deep distaste for his gossiping martial siblings. They must be the ones to fuel this, the rumors wouldn’t have spiraled out of such control that they suggested he was hunting down a romantic partner that had scorned him.

Truly, the imagination in his disciples was utilized in everything other than their studies. He’d be much more comfortable in sending his disciples out into the world if he didn’t have to read multiple poems about bamboo after every assignment.

Other plants existed on Qing Jing, they had gardens, and they didn’t have to write about Qing Jing specifically. He could only read so many synonyms of the color green before he began to feel a deep frustration at the mere mention of poetry.

However, there had been progress, of a kind. Sightings of his wayward shidi were documented in various areas along the border between the Human and Demon realms. Shen Qingqiu was reluctant to mark them as true sightings, at least the sightings given to him by his disciples.

His network of spies, at the very least, gave more reliable sightings. He’s thrown out so many reports in the last year of a tall man with dark hair and some sort of pet. They fit the most basic description of his shidi but lacked any truly distinctive markers.

It was infuriating. Shen Qingqiu knew that his shidi wasn’t hiding on purpose at least not anymore, his shidi probably wasn’t even aware he had forgotten about their meeting. A broken promise, Shen Qingqiu seethed.

The only thing keeping Shen Qingqiu from actually ordering his spies to hunt his stupid, airheaded shidi down was that it would freak the man out, drive him into actually hiding himself. It had happened before, roughly around the time of the Qing’s ascension. The previous Ling You Peak Lord had ordered a manhunt of their youngest shidi.

The forgetful man had hidden so deeply that the previous Peak Lords were half certain he’d died in some remote hidden realm. Of course, anytime Shen Qingqiu felt like vanishing for a while, he was always dragged back.

If this continued for much longer, Shen Qingqiu might have to, with deep disgust, call in the brute to track down his shidi. Shen Qingqiu shuffled through the papers stacked neatly on top of his desk, however, other measures could be implemented before he had to rely on the brute.

He paused, long fingers tapping on the paper he was holding as he hummed thoughtfully. This could do. Qi Qingqi certainly had contacts of her own, even the sniveling rodent of An Ding had his channels. A polite request for tea from his shimei was certainly unexpected, ah her wife must be coming along.

Shen Qingqiu felt the corner of his lips twitch slightly, for a woman of such brutal background, Qi-shimei’s wife was such a stickler for formalities.

Yue Qingyuan, despite the pains he went to keep an ear and eye on his Xiao Jiu, couldn’t keep track of everything the strategist did. So when Wei-shidi mumbled over his cup of tea about a manhunt, Yue Qingyuan felt a deep twist in his gut.

He knew that Xiao Jiu had his reasons, but his Xiao Jiu had grown even more reticent since the ascension, but that had never stopped Yue Qingyuan. Wei-shidi had fled quickly, muttering about checking on a volatile sword, but the sect leader barely heard him, just nodding with a small polite smile.

Blankly he stared at the wall for a moment, lost, before he called out. “Tan Liu?” Soft steps walked towards the office, “Yes, Shizun?” Tan Liu was the oldest of the Head Disciples and her command over her shidi and shimei made Yuq Qingyuan certain she knew about what was going on.

“What is this about a manhunt?” He asked, his thumb rubbing along the teacup. Tan Liu hesitated for the barest moment before she straightened, “Shen-shishu issued a retrieval order for a martial sibling of the Qing generation. The general description has made its way to this disciple's ears, but not the name. I apologize.”

Yue Qingyuan hummed for a moment, gently setting his teacup down on the low table. Tan Liu scuffed her feet gently on the wooden boards before speaking up again, “This one knows she should have reported this earlier to Shizun, however, this one felt she didn’t have enough information or evidence.” Yue Qingyuan glanced over at her with a small smile, “This master understands, the description?”

Tan Liu relaxed slightly, before reciting the short description she had made sure to memorize. “A taller man of slight build, favors lighter colors such as white and pale blues and greens, wears a simple hairstyle, typically braided, dark green eyes, with a slightly crooked nose.” Tan Liu paused a moment before continuing, “Likely to be spotted with a creature of some sort, the creature will be tame, likely rare. Will take requests regardless of reward or how simple the request may be.”

Yue Qingyuan closed his eyes as his Head Disciple’s voice tapered out. He knew exactly who his Xiao Jiu was hunting. The man was difficult to pin down, even harder to keep in one place, the only person who had succeeded before was the man’s own Shizun, who had defaulted to tracking talismans.

“Good. Thank you, Tan Liu.” Yue Qingyuan didn’t look over at the woman as he waved his hand. They both had paperwork to return to, and she didn’t need to be standing around waiting for him to come to a decision. He heard her soft footfalls as she left the room, the door shutting behind her.

Yue Qingyuan sat in silence for a long moment, a deep exhaustion beginning to form deep within his eyes, Xiao Jiu was certainly hunting someone. Their youngest shidi in fact, someone they hadn’t managed to track down before their ascension, his courtesy name still sealed within a final letter from the Previous Ling You Peak Lord.

It had been ten years, perhaps the man had slipped out of hiding, his guard falling enough for them to herd him back to the sect. If Xiao Jiu didn’t bring this up at the Peak Lord Meeting next week, Yue Qingyuan would, if only to bring their shidi and shimei into the hunt.

Shen Yuan, the missing Ling You Peak Lord, and the youngest shidi of the Qing generation. He was still out there, at the very least, Shen Qingqiu believed he was, which knowing the man, was probably as good of evidence as Yue Qingyuan would get. A soft sigh left his mouth before he stood, his paperwork was still waiting for him, and if he was going to be ascending another Peak Lord soon, he’d need his schedule as free as possible to plan a ceremony.

part two

ao3

#svsss #fanfic #mxtx svsss #shen yuan #shen jiu #yue qingyuan #shang qinghua #qi qingqi #so sorry about my grammer #this is what i was complaining about shen jiu for #had to rewrite this from the ground up #ill post this on ao3 later but i wanted to get it out there before i over think myself into oblivion #also the time line has been altered #the qing generation ascended about 10 years before the tlj fiasco #that is relevant information later #you can blame my roommate for the bullshit i pull with qqq's wife #part 1

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wolveria · 8 months ago

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The Anomaly Archives - Reality #001

AU of The Raven's Hymn

Pairing: SCP-049 x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Dubious consent, sex pollen, oral sex, vaginal sex

AO3

With infinite universes come infinite possibilities. But even within the threads of innumerable choices, there are… patterns. Threads that will interweave time and again, with no discernible rhyme or reason.

Some call it fate. Others, providence. Humans call it the law of Large Numbers, and that is close enough for what I attempt to convey to the record.

The purpose of this record is to document the threads that curve toward one specific individual. To what end, the Editors will determine. I am simply an observer.

That is what I tell myself.

--The [REDACTED] Wandsman of [REDACTED]

The opening of the outer doors brought his head up, alert and poised for his cruel captors to make an appearance. He had grown agitated, pacing in front of the observation screen, not knowing what had befallen her. His dear assistant, taken away in chains to once again be submitted to the senseless whims of brutish men.

The Doctor did not fare well, his chest a boundless void with each passing moment of her absence. He missed her sweet presence, the comfort that came with it, her touch soothing the machinations of his restless mind.

Of course, that same touch could also light a spark in him, setting the fatwood ablaze, and it took all of his considerable will to smother the flames before they spread beyond his control.

It was a different sort of fire that consumed him now, rage curling around his heart as his assistant was carelessly shoved into the chamber. She caught herself on the autopsy table and leaned her weight against it as her legs seemed unable to steady beneath her.

Her bare legs. The grey medical tights she usually wore were missing, leaving her only in the white smock.

Possession, a creature with liquid fire for blood and flame-kissed metal for claws, a beast that demanded retribution on any who had dared touch her. It raged within his dark form, but he held it at bay for her sake.

The Doctor was at her side in an instant, and the ravenous beast was temporarily sated as he caught hold of her shoulders. She appeared weak, or fatigued, and he feared she would collapse from the way she trembled.

Despite her clumsy gait, she stepped into the circle of his arms and held him, her grip strong with desperation. The Doctor blinked. It was not unusual for her to return in such a state, affected to a degree that left her on the edge of ruin.

But this seemed... different. Unfamiliar, the way she pushed her face into his neck, breathing in deep as if to catch his scent, her fingers pressing divots into his back. Her body crowded him, restless, pressed flat against his surface and straining to be closer.

Deep within, something flickered to life.

“…Doctor Reid?”

He hadn’t intended her name to come out as a breathless rasp, but he was caught off-foot, not entirely sure how to approach this novel situation. This close to her, surrounded by her familiar fragrance, there was an underlying chemical he didn’t recognize.

Alarm jostled his thoughts. He might not know the compound, but he could sense its nature, a hormone intended to affect mammals in a particular way.

His assistant didn’t answer him with words; she slipped a leg between his, attempting to straddle his thigh, a precarious position while they still stood. She wasn’t deterred, holding him tighter as she rocked against his hip.

The Doctor’s mind struggled to assess the situation correctly, but his body responded with a haste that outpaced his good sense. Heat licked up his abdomen and his member stirred, threatening to expand out of its sheath with the sudden blood flow.

He jerked back, forced to catch her when she nearly spilled to the floor.

“Assistant, please.” He held her firm but kept a modest distance between them. “I need to know what was done to you. Do you remember?”

She licked her lips, pupils blown as she tried to focus on his face. And she did try, he knew from the dip in her brow and her confused frown.

“Y-yes. A gas. They m-made me inhale it. I tried n-not to breathe, but...”

“I understand,” he said, soft. Despite the irritating reactions of his body, his heart ached for yet another indignity she was forced to endure. “Your predicament is through no fault of your own. I will attempt to provide aid. If you could please tell me your symptoms, I shall try to find a remedy that—”

“No!” She shook her head, words choked, eyes wide. “He said n-not to. Leahy. He said no... no antidotes. Nothing f-from your bag.”

His eyes narrowed, venomous barbs curling around his chest as they always did when he was reminded of the Site Director’s existence. The Doctor would love nothing more than to adorn a pair of gloves and wrap his fingers around the man’s neck. He would not wish his suffering to end too swiftly, after all.

“What is the purpose of this drug?”

His assistant shook her head again, discomfort and unease lining her features. She squirmed against his grip, sweat beading on her forehead below her hairline.

“He didn’t say. They just... gave it to me. Nothing happened, at first. And then as they were bringing me back—”

She released a noise, her legs rubbing together as she avoided his gaze.

“Please,” he gently said, “tell me what you are experiencing. If only so we may relieve the symptoms—”

Another noise from her, this one pained, and she wrenched from his hands, surprising him with her strength. She slipped within the confines of his hold and crushed her body against his, gripping his robes as if she were drowning.

“Hot,” she gasped into his shoulder. “Too much. Need it to stop. Need—”

While he reeled from her sudden proximity, she grabbed his hand and shoved it under her smock, forcing him to cup her. The shocking heat was the first thing he noticed, the second, how she was soaked through her undergarments, wetting his fingers with barely a touch.

He had lived a long life, longer than even he could remember, and never once in his great existence could he recall a time when his mind simply... stopped. Nothing passed through it except a soft sort of buzz, like one of those televisions that no longer received a signal.

The noise she made was unholy, sinful as she rubbed herself on his hand. Her face was against his collar, pressed into the loose fabric that encircled his throat. His skin had always been muted to sensations, a barrier between him and the outside world, but he could feel every heated breath she exhaled, ever scratch of her nails and the slick essence leaking from her.

His assistant was dwarfed in comparison to him, yet she pushed him, forced him in retreat to the inner chamber, all the while her lips explored his neck, guiding his fingers for the relief she sought. There was only a thin barrier of cotton between her flesh and his, and it would take so little effort to pull that barrier aside and gift her with exactly what she needed.

If this event had occurred earlier in their partnership, the Doctor would like to believe he would not be the empty-headed fool he currently was. He would have much more restraint, in control of his own faculties, and he would put a stop to this entire affair.

As it was, he remained frozen as she backed him all the way to the desk, his hips pinned against the edge as they could retreat no further.

She pulled his hand away from her slick heat. Any return to his senses that might have happened were thwarted as she dropped to her knees, her fingers searching, exploring for something at the joining of his legs.

A strained, choking noise left him. She could not possibly know about—

“I’m sorry.”

Her apology came out like a prayer, hushed and desperate for salvation.

“I’m sorry I’m sorryimsorry—”

She found the opening of his internal sheath, her fingers sliding within the slit, and stroked just within as if to coax him out.

It was more than effective. His member pushed through the opening, and he braced his hands against the desk behind him—the air had left him as she took him in her hands. She stroked him, her eyes wide, filled with such desire that he could hardly believe he was the target of such carnal attention.

Lacking any hesitation, her lips parted, and she took him into her mouth, swallowing him down in one smooth motion.

The sharp, visceral warmth of her enveloping him left him without a voice. The metal desk creaked in protest as he gripped it tight; he knew he would leave permanent dents into its surface.

The Doctor could focus on nothing else than the sweet ache she was pulling out of him, laving him with her tongue and sucking as much of his length as she could.

It was... too much, too pleasurable to be real, and yet too wonderful to be a dream. He wouldn’t say he lacked for imagination, but even his mind couldn’t have envisioned the endless landscape of pleasure her mouth provided.

She pulled back just enough to lick the glans, groaning low in her throat, lapping up the lubricating fluid that leaked from its tip. It was an image that would be forever burned into his mind, branded into the depths of his molecules and atoms.

His fingers found their way into her hair, holding the strands that had loosened from her ponytail, what remained of it. The contrast of the soft mane to the rough hide of his gloves snapped him out of his syrupy haze.

“Assistant.”

His voice came out in a croak, unsteady. She didn’t seem to hear him.

He tried again, voicing her title in a bid for her attention, and this time, he knew she was ignoring him.

“Assistant,” he snapped, and she paused long enough for him to take her by the shoulders and pull her to her feet. Her dazed expression was cut through with a look of annoyance at being interrupted from her goal.

The Doctor sighed. He would not think about how that combination of annoyance and desire-heaviness in her eyes was a heady combination.

“It is you who needs relief,” he said. “Not I.”

An arguable point with his phallus hard as steel and pressed against her stomach, but this was not about what his traitorous body wanted.

She seemed to think over his appeal, but her frown of consideration was growing hazy again. His own focus was nearly shattered as her hand wrapped around his length, squeezing and attempting to finish what her mouth couldn’t.

He held her motionless with his own hand over hers, his phallus still in her grip, a compromise since she was determined to not let go.

“What would you like me to use?” he asked, voice gentle compared to his firm grip on her. “My fingers?”

He didn’t often think about his mask, nor what past researchers had told him in regard to it—that he had a human mouth trapped under the chitinous material. But for the first time, he cursed his lack of access to it.

The thought of putting his mouth on her was… was…

She shook her head, regret and a shadow of embarrassment on her features.

“That… that won’t be deep enough.”

Ah. So, that’s what she needed but was too ashamed to ask for, even now in a state of drug-induced need.

He lowered his head, close to hers so it would give the semblance of privacy, even if it was simply an illusion.

“The bed would be more… comfortable.”

It was her own comfort and dignity that concerned him, and he would not take her on the floor or over the desk like some… some animal, but he couldn’t deny he ached for her, the evidence caught between her fingers.

Her expression would have been sweet under other circumstances, the shyness mixed with intoxicating desire. But that was based in a lovely fantasy. The reality was a darker, crueler portrait.

She nodded, her reluctance no barrier between her and the demands of the chemical. She released him, finally, and he covered himself in his robes in what amounted to a pointless display of modesty.

The Doctor led her over to the bed, though he needn’t have. She pressed close to him, as if any degree of separation might give their captors reason to intervene and take her away. He held her just as close; he would not allow them to interrupt her relief, though he’d already concluded this was the point to their new experiment.

Once they reached the bed, he hovered close but didn’t proceed further. He was… on unfamiliar grounds, and she must have sensed it, because she quietly said, “Lie down.”

He would have obeyed any instruction she gave when delivered in that strained, husky tone. Raze the facility to rubble, flay his own hide with his scalpel. Lie atop a bed and allow her to use him however she wanted.

However she needed. He had to remind himself the true purpose of this. Her actions were not under her own volition, no matter the extraneous attention, or how genuine the ache in each touch. This was a means to an end, and he would gladly be her instrument.

His back barely hit the covers before she was astride him, yanking his robes aside. She must have removed her undergarments when he had briefly turned away, because her bare skin was scorching in his lap. Her flesh hot, slick, as she ground against the curve of his shaft.

His hands automatically went to her hips, seeking something to hold, an excuse to touch her. She still wore her smock, though the hem had bunched around her thighs, and he didn’t know why he did it—he pulled the material higher, his fingers stretched wide across her bare skin now on display.

The Doctor might not know the finer points of coitus, but his assistant seemed to know exactly what she wanted. With a lift of her hips, she held his phallus in one hand and pressed the tip against her, and without so much as a word, she slid down.

He could scarcely breathe, the tight flesh of her swallowing him from root to stem, and even with the ample lubrication, the strain on her face indicated discomfort.

He tightened his hold on her hips to dissuade her from doing this too quickly, but she growled through her teeth and pushed downward, hard, the force smacking their hips together, and he swore he saw constellations.

She did it again, and again, until she found a steady rhythm, though it was shaky and desperate, a reminder that this was not some spontaneous tryst. She focused on her task with dogged determination, and he was simply trying to remember his own name.

He closed his eyes and surrendered to the feel of her around him, everywhere, leaving no space between them in a way he’d only dreamt of. And even his dreams hadn’t come close, a cheap, laughable copy compared to the genuine article.

Almost… genuine. Close enough that if he kept his eyes shut and let his mind wander, he could imagine the white sterile walls were replaced with something woody, organic. Natural, in a way this place never would be, and she could be free in a way she never was.

From the slow tightening of her walls to the ragged pace of her breathing, he guessed she was close to reaching her peak but was having difficulty achieving it. He wasn’t sure if he should expedite the process or draw it out, a question of what would rid this cursed chemical from her system more efficiently.

But when she hunched forward, face screwed in concentration as a soft sob left her lips, he made this decision.

The Doctor had made himself a passive participant, to let her use him how she wished. The alternative would be to take her how he wanted, with a force that would leave their relationship forever ruined, unable to hide his actions behind the mantle of helpful concern.

So, he must be forgiven this indulgence. After all, she did need his assistance.

With a firm hold of her hips, he thrust upward, and at the same moment, pressed his thumb into the sensitive nub that had been neglected thus far.

His assistant arched forward, holding herself up by hands on either side of his head, bracing as he took control of her pleasure. With a few thrusts aimed at the inner surfaces she hadn’t been able to reach, accompanied by the movements of his thumb, she toppled over the edge.

Or more succinctly, she crashed. Now entirely folded over him, she dug her fingers into his shoulders, choked cries escaping her as she throbbed around him.

His own control was lost as a strange sensation expanded at the base of his phallus, and he was almost too late to realize what it was. The bulge was halfway inside her before he managed to slip it out, seconds away from unintentionally trapping her around him.

The extra pressure against her entrance had elicited another weak cry, and she ground down on his hips, as if she wanted it—and he spilled into her, unable to stop or pull away until it was far too late.

Not that his actions would have wrought him much; her thighs were vices around his waist, and he suspected even if he’d tried to redirect his orgasm elsewhere, she would have successfully intervened.

When the Doctor’s head cleared enough that it wasn’t filled with pleasant static, he found his arms had naturally sought their way around her, one hand on her back while the other was in her hair.

She hadn’t moved, and by the soft, almost-sobs she made, he knew something was very wrong. He gently stroked her hair, unsure of what else to do. He certainly wasn’t going to move her.

“Doctor Reid?”

She flinched. No, not a promising sign at all.

“I’m… sorry,” she finally whimpered.

He frowned, or his version of it.

“I’m so… so sorry.”

It was then he felt the moisture dripping into the collar of his hood.

“Oh,” he breathed out, both relieved and horrified. He’d begun to fear he’d been too rough, harmed her in his eagerness, but this wasn’t a preferable alternative. “Dear one, you have nothing to apologize for.”

She curled around him tighter, a dejected sob leaving her throat, this one unable to be hidden.

Carefully, he lifted her, only far enough to tuck her against his side. The sensation of sliding out of her was an interesting one, as if he were raw, oversensitive. He would prefer to clean the mess, but he wouldn’t dare leave her now, not when she was on the edge of trembling apart.

“This was not your fault,” he pressed. “You are not to blame. They are.”

She shook her head, another quiet sob mangled as she tried to choke it down. Even now, she fought to hide weakness, vulnerability. He understood this was who she was, burying every sign that she was in pain, and he would not begrudge her that. He simply… wished he could spare her this silent suffering, take her to a place where she would never feel the need to hide.

But that was the entire problem. They weren’t elsewhere.

He lifted the blanket to cover them both, giving her privacy from the unwanted voyeurs as well as warmth for her shivering limbs. An effective strategy, as she huddled close, her face against his chest as if she sought to be shielded against the world.

The Doctor would fill that role to the best of his abilities. He was uncertain what waited them now this line had been crossed. He doubted it would stop at a single test. Whatever the intended result—and he could take a damn good guess what it was—he could only hope they would not expand the experiment to include other subjects.

He had no interest in being used as a stud, and if they even considered turning his assistant into some kind of broodmare….

With the Doctor’s teeth trapped behind his mask, he could only grind them in spirit, but grind them he did. Putting in place the catalyst that would usher the facility’s downfall was becoming more and more appealing.

But his assistant fidgeted, moved closer, as if sensing the dark turn of his thoughts. He brushed them aside, for now, and focused on her. Threading his fingers through her hair, a rumble would sometimes vibrate in his chest, involuntary and unfamiliar, but it seemed to comfort her.

A new ache took residence within him. Her pain was because she thought she had taken advantage of him. The truth was quite the opposite: he had indulged where he should have remained distant, clinical, appropriate. Instead, he had made the fatal mistake of allowing himself, but for a moment, to pretend.

And now, they both suffered, for very different reasons.

He struggled with the words that would encompass his thoughts, aware that nothing would make this right. In the end, he touched the side of his mask against her hair and whispered, “Je suis de tout cœur avec toi.”

She shivered, as if it was a spell cast over her, but she didn’t ask what it meant. She simply held on.

The Doctor returned the gesture in kind. For now, there was nothing else to be done, two souls whose only shelter was each other against the impending storm. And there would be a storm. The Doctor would make sure of that.

#the raven's hymn #the anomaly archives #scp 049 x reader #scp 049 #scp fandom #wolveria writes

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honey-minded-hivemind · 3 months ago

Note

Some ideas for option 2

Rewind! Reader was experiencing sudden bursts of pain and went to the doctor alone, only to stumble up on Mr Sinister out of his disguise

Causing reader to have to run for their damn life as Mr Sinister tries catching them, maybe even gets close to actually catching them before reader either finds a way to slip away or something something Devine interference-

Cube anon

You'd been feeling sicker lately.

A lot sicker, actually.

Kevin had had to take you home about two weeks ago, seeing you about to pass out and struggling to move without stopping in pain. They'd been kind enough to stay over at your apartment, fixing you dinner amd feeding you and keeping a wet towel presses to your forehead and talking to some some their friends while you were trying to keep the worst of the pain at bay.

It was agony.

Your nails felt like they were on fire, the nailbeds raw and red and stinging sharply. Your mouth ached, your teeth hurt when you touched them and your gums felt sore and bled at any hars touches. Even your bones felt exhausted, like they were shifting under your skin. Your entire body felt feverish and cold and you couldn't stay warm enough or keep cool enough.

It felt like H*ll.

Which led you to here, the old clinic, looking for your old doctor.

The doors creaked as you peeked through them, your boots clacking loudly on the tiled floor. The air smelt of chemicals and cleaning supplies, the shadows seemed too dark and too deep, and each noise and echo made you shiver even more...

But you eventually came across a room, where you saw a shadowy figure waiting.

You hesitated.

It didn't.

"Why, child... come back so soon?"

Your spine goes rigid, feeling like ice filled each crac and joint.

"My my... yes... Reader, correct? It's been quite some time since we last met, face to face~" It loomed in the dark confines of the room, seeming to grow bigger and bigger with each word.

"..."

You couldn't squeeze anything past your throat. Whatever this was... it wasn't good...

"Cat got your tongue~? Hmmm... Always were such an antsy little thing~ But I fixed most of your flaws, my dear... Now... why don't you come closer, so Dr. Essex can fix this, too?"

You didn't waste a minute turning tail and running, panting and heart going a mile a minute as you fled from the dark being chasing behind you. You could hear it's cackle echo all around you, the darkness humming with malevolence. This... thing... wanted to hurt you. It might even kill you, if it had it's way.

You can't let it get it's hands on you.

You grab a bottle of rubbing alcohol as you run, clutching it tightly to your chest as you turn down a hall... Right into a dead end.

You freeze. You can feel the darkness writhing with something, the evil lurking within it...

And then hands are clutching at you, trying to drag you in.

You scream, kicking and thrashing, fighting as best you can against the demon trying to drag you under, bit all it does is make you feel weaker, your head fuzzing with fever. You shake, tears starting to slip down your cheeks.

You can't die here. You can't be taken to God knows where bu this creature. You can't leave Kevin- What would they think? That you abandoned them? That you were ungrateful? Or assume you weren't worth it? Simply forget about you? You yelled at the thought, crying out in despair.

You couldn't disappear like this.

In a shaky twist of the cap, you open the bottle of alcohol-

Then splash it in the creature's eyes, earning am enraged shriek as it releases you, scrambling at its eyes and cursing.

You don't think twice, running past it and down the next hall, making your way into the lobby-

And then you're pushing through the door, running as fast as you can, trying not to collapse on the pavement as you go back home...

It's quiet, when you enter your home.

You feel a sense of unease, stepping forward cautiously, worried, feeling like a naughty child about to be caught sneaking out...

But then you see Kevin, their back facing you, their front hidden from sight, the light from the TV casting their form in shadow.

"K-Kevin-" you start, "K-Kevin, I, I saw something- I'm so sorry, I swear I wasn't leaving you, I'm not going to leave again, we, we just need to hide, fast- Kevin, it's after me- it was horrifying, like- like some undead vampire, or, or some demon- God, I'm so sorry-"

"WhAt did you say you saw?"

You pause.

Something doesn't seem right...

"It, it looked like a being made of, like, shadows. It's face was as pale as death, or a corpse, and it's eyes, Kevin, they were blood red! It's teeth- oh f*ck it's teeth-! They were like needles- It was waiting there, it was after me, I'm so sorry Kevin, but you need to get out of here, before it comes after you-!"

"I'm not going anywhere, kit-cat." Their neck cracks, the snapping noise echoing in the silence.

"All of this time... all of this effort... And he StiLl found you... WhY?! WHY CoULdN'T hE LeAvE yOu ALoNe?!" Their body seems to shift, their form lengthening, growing taller, the skin becoming pale and their bones popping and shifting.

"K-Kevin...?"

The being stills...

Then it turns to face you, and you feel your heart sink to your stomach.

That... is that...

"I'm so sorry, kit-cat... I tried... but it isn't safe here anymore..." The being twitches, then steps closer.

You take a step back.

And it's eyes, bright and hollow and piercing, seem to widen.

"Kit-cat... it's okay... It's me, Kevin. I'm your friend, remember?" it croons softly, smiling at you as though trying to reassure you.

All you can do is shake uncontrollably, starting to hyperventilate. Your hands hurt, your head hurts, your mouth your teeth your eyes your back-

A screech comes out as you double over, clawing at your arms as deep agony rocks your core. You feel tears falling down your cheeks as you cry, hiccups sobs pouring out as the pain only gets worse. You dig your nails in deeper, only to feel sharp pain like daggers stabbing your skin. You glance down, breath shaking-

And see sharpened nails, curved and razor-sharpz covered in smears of dark red.

Your breath hitches, and you shakily stare up at the form of the creature you'd called Kevin. They're frozen, staring at you, shock soon turning to worry.

"Sweetie-!? Shhh, shhh, it's okay, let's calm down, okay? It's gonna be okay, just take a deep breath. See? In, and out. Come on, please, breath kitten, it's gonna be okay-"

You fall backwards, scrambling across the floor, until your back is against the wall. Your heart is beating too fast, your ribs hurt, your mouth is on fire, your teeth burn, your skin crawls, you're shaking and you can't stop-!

A hand comes near you and you scream, nails clawing into your arms and belly, bloody smears starting to stain your clothes. The being (Kevin?) took a step back, stuttering, lost on what to say-

"Reader. Stop hurting yourself. Now."

You freeze up, then slowly turn to look at the screen of the TV.

There, staring back at you, are the X-Men, eyes set on you, watching.

Your ears rush with blood, your mind going into a blind panic as the f*cking TV starts talking at you, the voices swelling as you cry out, tearing at your arms and head and trying to make everything stop-!

The room pops with noise, a loud static and blinding light-

And there's more distorted beings in there, towering over you, looking down, seeing you.

You can't make your legs get up, can't stop them as they come closer, Kevin trying to talk to you as arms and hands reach out, wrapping around your limbs and holding you down-

"Shhhh, it's gonna be okay, kid, yer gonna be okay-"

"Shhh, sweetie, it'll only take a minute-"

"Be gentle, don't hurt them-!"

"Take a deep breath, IN! Then out-"

"Let's calm you down, sweetheart-"

You hear the pop of something small, and try to twist your head around to see it. No matter how hard you thrash you can't free yourself, the grips on you too firm and your limbs held tightly. You see the light glint off something sharp-

"Shhhh, don't look, look over this way-"

And then there's a sharp prick in your arm, then the world starts to... tilt...

"Hey... that's it, sweetie... You're doing so well... Hmmmm, you feeling tired?" A hand is in your hair, smoothing it down and rubbing it lightly, massaging warmth into your chilled skin.

"Good job, kit, ya did real good. Let's get ya up and get ya situated-" Arms are wrapped around you, warm and strong and firm, sitting you up, wrapping around you, then hauling you into a careful hold, the limbs wrapped tight around you.

"Oh, kit-cat, it's okay. Shhhh... I know, I know it hurts so much, and everything is too much right now, and all you wanna do is take a nice, big nap. Why don't you close your eyes for a bit, hmmm~? That's it, you're safe, just relax..." Something is rubbing your back, making small circles and kneading the cold flesh through the wet fabric, causing the muscles to un-tense amd loosen...

"Shhhh... You're so good, kitten... Look at you, you took the medicine so well... You're just feeling tired, aren't you? So so tired... Shhhhh... Just rest~ We'll take care of everything~♡"

Your body is covered in something thick and soft, the arms around you keeping you tucked into their chest... Your head feels thick, your ache melting and waning under the medicine, tugging you down into blissful, quiet, warm darkness...

"Okay, team... let's go home~♡"

( @thewickedweiner @sugar-soda @weebwholovesuchihasasuke )

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen: the animated series #platonic yandere xmen 97 #platonic yandere kevin sydney #platonic yandere morph #platonic yandere scott summers #platonic yandere cyclops #platonic yandere logan howlett #platonic yandere wolverine #🔦rewind au

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sicknessbysalem · 28 days ago

Text

more niko and zak because i love them so much…

if you have any more requests, questions, comments, etc., send them my way!

tw emeto, panic, fear of being sick, fever

The hotel room was unnaturally quiet, the soft hum of the heater the only noise filling the space. Outside, the snow was falling in thick, lazy flakes, clinging to the window in a pattern of frosty tendrils.

Niko leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom after his shower, arms crossed over his chest, eyes narrowed with concern as he watched Zak.

Zak had been pacing for the past few minutes, his movements sluggish and far too deliberate for someone who usually had so much energy to burn. His skin had that pale, waxy look to it—the kind that came with being unwell. And the way he kept wrapping his arms around himself, rubbing at his shoulders as though trying to shake off a persistent chill, told Niko that something was definitely wrong.

“You sure you’re good?” Niko asked, though he already knew the answer.

Zak paused mid-pace, his back to Niko. His shoulders tensed for a moment before he shrugged, but the gesture was half-hearted, weak.

“Yeah, just... I don’t know. Maybe something I ate,” he muttered, his voice a little too thin, a little too rough around the edges. When he turned to face Niko, there was a ghost of his usual smile on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll walk it off. No big deal.”

Niko wasn’t buying it. The second Zak had started complaining about feeling off earlier, Niko had taken note, but Zak being Zak had tried to brush it off, acting like a headache or an unsettled stomach was nothing to worry about. Except now, hours later, Zak was visibly worse, his complexion more drained, his posture less confident.

Niko and Zak played for the Portland Ravens hockey team for nearly four and a half years. They’d been best friends before the draft. Which meant that Zak knew more about Niko than Niko wanted to admit, and in the same vein Niko knew more about Zak and his stuff more than Zak himself wanted to acknowledge. Namely, the panic that always came with sickness.

Niko was used to sickness. His own, sure. But sickness nonetheless. He could continue, act like nothing was up even if he was puking between ice shifts which had indeed happened multiple times. But Zak was different. Zak got scared.

“I don’t think walking it off is gonna do the trick, bud,” Niko said, his voice tinged with amusement, but the concern was still there, lingering beneath the surface.

He took a step closer, watching as Zak swayed slightly, his hand going to his stomach as if to steady himself.

Zak huffed a breath, his attempt at a laugh falling flat. “Well, sitting here sure as hell isn’t helping either.”

Niko rolled his eyes and crossed the distance between them, his hand resting lightly on Zak’s shoulder, guiding him toward the bed. “How about this: you sit your ass down before you fall over, and I’ll make sure you don’t die of stubbornness.” His tone was playful, but the touch of worry in his eyes betrayed him.

Zak let out a groan but didn’t resist as Niko led him to the edge of the bed. “I’m not gonna die, you drama queen.”

“Maybe not, but you’re sure as hell looking like it.” Niko’s hand slid from Zak’s shoulder to the back of his neck, his thumb brushing along the base of Zak’s hairline, feeling the damp heat that radiated from his skin.

The gesture was casual, but it gave Niko all the information he needed. Zak had a fever, and not just a low-grade one either. The heat practically pulsed from him in waves, despite the way Zak was shivering like he’d just stepped out into the snowstorm outside.

Zak slouched forward, resting his elbows on his knees as another shiver rippled through him. His eyes slipped shut for a moment, his expression tight, as though he were trying to keep his nausea at bay.

“Okay, maybe I’m not at my best right now,” he admitted, his voice a little more strained than before.

Niko crouched in front of him, his dark eyes searching Zak’s face with a mixture of amusement and concern. “No kidding. You’ve got chills, and I’m betting you’re rocking a pretty nasty fever.”

Zak cracked an eye open, his lips twitching up into a faint smile. “You gonna take my temperature, Nurse Niko?”

Niko smirked, leaning in just a little closer, his voice low and teasing. “Only if you ask nicely.”

Zak chuckled, but the sound quickly dissolved into a cough, his hand flying up to cover his mouth as his body trembled with the effort. He hunched over slightly, wincing as the cough subsided, and Niko’s expression shifted, the teasing slipping away as he rested a hand on Zak’s knee.

“You’re really not doing great, huh?” Niko said, quieter this time. His fingers tapped lightly against Zak’s knee, a subtle gesture that seemed more like instinct than anything else.

Zak let out a soft sigh, wiping a hand across his face as if trying to rub away the exhaustion. “Yeah... guess I’m not. Feel like shit, actually.”

“Yeah, you look it too,” Niko said, though his tone was far gentler than his words. He stood up, pressing a palm to Zak’s forehead, feeling the heat radiating from him. Zak didn’t even flinch, too tired to protest the touch, which told Niko everything he needed to know.

“Alright,” Niko said, making a quick decision, “we’re gonna warm you up and settle you down.” He nudged Zak gently, making him scoot back on the bed. “Lie down. You’ve got chills ‘cause you’re feverish, and if I let you keep shivering like this, you’re gonna make it worse.”

Zak opened his mouth, probably to argue, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he gave a slight nod, shifting slowly until he was lying on his back, his body sinking into the hotel mattress with a groan of discomfort. His arms wrapped around his stomach as another wave of nausea rolled through him, but he didn’t say anything, just closed his eyes and breathed slowly through his nose.

Niko moved swiftly, grabbing an extra blanket from the foot of the bed and pulling it up over Zak, tucking it around him with surprising gentleness. Then, with a casual shrug, Niko slid onto the bed next to Zak, making sure to slip under the covers too, his body heat instantly noticeable in the small space between them.

“What’re you doing?” Zak asked, though there wasn’t much resistance in his voice. He was too tired, too feverish to do more than turn his head slightly to glance at Niko.

“Warming you up,” Niko said simply, lying on his side, one arm propped up so he could watch Zak more closely. “You’re freezing, and I’m hot as hell, so... you’re welcome.” He grinned, though there was an edge of something softer behind it—like he was taking this whole situation more seriously than his teasing let on.

Zak groaned, pulling the blankets up a little higher around his shoulders. “You’re just using this as an excuse to get in bed with me.”

Niko’s grin widened. “Yeah, well, I figured it’s what any good teammate would do.”

Zak chuckled, though it quickly turned into a wince as his stomach protested again. He closed his eyes, his breath coming slower, more measured, as if he was trying to calm his body down. “You’re not gonna let me hear the end of this, are you?”

“Nope,” Niko replied, his voice soft now. He watched as Zak’s face twisted slightly in discomfort, his brow furrowing. “But seriously... just relax. I’ve got you.”

For a while, neither of them spoke. The room was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of blankets as Zak shifted uncomfortably, his face pinched with discomfort. Niko kept his gaze on him, watching closely, his hand hovering near Zak’s arm but not quite touching—like he was ready to help if Zak needed him but was giving him space to ride it out.

Zak’s breath hitched slightly, his hand pressing against his stomach, and Niko shifted closer, his brow furrowing with concern. “You okay?”

Zak swallowed hard, his eyes still closed, and gave a faint nod. “Yeah... just feel kinda gross.”

Niko sighed, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “I know, man. Just try to rest.”

Zak opened one eye, glancing at Niko. “You staying there all night?”

“Hell yeah,” Niko replied, his grin returning. “Somebody’s gotta keep an eye on you and make sure you don’t drown in your dinner.”

Zak snorted softly, but it was clear his energy was fading fast. His eyes fluttered shut again, and for the first time that evening, his body seemed to relax, even if just a little.

Niko watched him for a moment longer, his smile softening as he settled in beside Zak, his hand resting lightly on Zak’s shoulder. Something grounding and consistent.

Zak didn’t seem to mind, for once. So, Niko stayed.

The room was still cloaked in that heavy, warm silence when Zak stirred. At first, it was just a slight shift, his body protesting as he rolled over in the bed, the weight of the blankets pressing down on him. His stomach clenched, sending a ripple of nausea through him that made his muscles tighten involuntarily. It took a few more moments before the sensation fully settled in, hitting him like a freight train.

Zak’s eyes snapped open, his heart racing in his chest as the nausea surged—violent and sudden, making his breath hitch. He lay there for a second, staring up at the ceiling, trying to breathe through it, trying to will it away. But the tight knot in his stomach only twisted harder, and his skin felt clammy, sticky with sweat.

The nausea didn’t just sit in his gut—it spread through him, making his limbs feel weak and heavy. His throat constricted, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin, and he knew there was no waiting this one out. He had to get up.

Moving carefully, Zak pushed the blankets off and swung his legs over the side of the bed, sitting up slowly. His head spun with the motion, a wave of dizziness crashing over him as he sat hunched forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

For a few seconds, he just sat there, breathing through his nose, trying to keep his stomach in check. But it was no use—the nausea was relentless, churning inside him like a storm.

He stood shakily, every movement slow and deliberate as he made his way to the bathroom, careful not to wake Niko. His chest felt tight, his breath coming in shallow gasps, as if he couldn’t quite get enough air. Panic flickered at the edges of his mind, making his hands tremble as he closed the bathroom door behind him.

Zak leaned over the sink, his reflection blurred in the mirror above. His face was pale, the fever still evident in the flush of his cheeks, and beads of sweat clung to his forehead. His stomach twisted painfully, the nausea rising in his throat, but it wasn’t enough. It never was. He felt the pressure, the horrible anticipation, but nothing would come up. His body was locked in a cruel limbo, and he could already feel the anxiety creeping in.

A sharp gag tore through him, his body doubling over the sink as he clutched the edge for support. But even then, nothing came—just the harsh, empty retching that left him breathless and shaking. He tried again, gagging harder this time, but it was like his body was working against him, the nausea refusing to give him any relief.

His breathing hitched, growing more rapid as the panic started to build.

Not now. Not like this. Zak could feel the onset of anxiety.

Zak clenched his jaw, trying to calm himself, but the anxiety was already making his chest tight, his hands trembling as he gripped the counter harder. He gagged again, this time more violently, but still, nothing came up—just the awful, dry heaving that made his throat burn and his eyes water.

It was too much—too overwhelming. His heart pounded in his chest, and his mind raced, fear mixing with the nausea, making it impossible for him to focus on anything other than the sick feeling coiling in his gut. He felt trapped in his own body, his breath coming in shallow, panicked bursts.

Out in the bedroom, Niko stirred. The absence of warmth beside him registered slowly, but it was the faint, strained sound of Zak retching that pulled him fully from sleep.

He blinked, groggy, confusion settling in as he reached out and found the space next to him empty. Then he heard it again—the unmistakable, awful sound of someone trying to be sick and failing.

“Zak?” Niko’s voice was thick with sleep, but concern was already blooming in his chest as he sat up. The room was dim, the only light coming from the bathroom, its door left ajar.

Niko rubbed a hand over his face, trying to shake off the last remnants of sleep as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

He listened for a moment, hearing another weak retch, followed by a soft, shaky breath.

“Zak,” Niko called again, softer this time, worry creeping into his tone. He padded across the room and pushed the bathroom door open fully, and the sight of Zak leaning over the sink, pale and trembling, made his heart clench.

Zak didn’t look up, too focused on trying to keep himself steady as another painful gag ripped through him. Niko’s eyes softened, and without a word, he crossed the small space, his hand coming to rest gently on Zak’s back.

“Hey,” Niko murmured, his voice low and calm. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Zak’s breath hitched again, and he squeezed his eyes shut, another dry heave wracking his body. He shook his head slightly, his hands gripping the sink harder as his body fought against the nausea.

“Can’t—can’t get it up,” Zak muttered between shaky breaths. His voice was hoarse, edged with panic, the frustration clear in every word.

Niko knew this all too well. Zak’s body had a way of locking up when he got sick, the anxiety making it even harder for him to get any relief. Niko had seen it before, seen how Zak would get trapped in that horrible cycle of nausea and panic, making it harder for his body to let go.

“Shh,” Niko soothed, his hand rubbing slow, steady circles on Zak’s back. “Just breathe for me, okay? Don’t force it. You’re working yourself up.”

Zak nodded, but it was clear he was still struggling, his breath shallow and fast, his body trembling under the weight of both the nausea and the anxiety. His fingers tightened on the sink, his knuckles white.

Niko stepped in closer, his hand sliding from Zak’s back to his arm, giving him something solid to hold onto. “I’ve got you, alright? Just breathe. You’re gonna be okay.”

Zak swallowed hard, his throat burning from the dry heaves. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes fluttering open as he leaned a little heavier against Niko. “I—” Another gag cut him off, his body lurching forward, but still, nothing came.

Niko could feel the tension in Zak’s muscles, the way his body was wound so tightly from the panic and nausea that it was making everything worse. He kept his voice soft, steady, as he guided Zak toward the toilet, knowing that the sink wasn’t going to cut it. “Come on, sit down. It’s easier if you’re not standing.”

Zak didn’t resist, too focused on the sick feeling in his gut. He dropped to his knees in front of the toilet, his forehead resting on the cool porcelain as he sucked in another shaky breath. Niko crouched down beside him, his hand still on Zak’s back, grounding him, steadying him.

“It’s okay,” Niko murmured again, his voice calm and reassuring. “You’re okay. Just take it slow.”

Zak’s breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, but Niko’s presence was starting to cut through the haze of panic, just enough to let him focus on something other than the nausea. He leaned into Niko’s touch, his body relaxing slightly under the soothing pressure of Niko’s hand.

“Breathe with me,” Niko said, keeping his voice low and steady. He inhaled slowly, exaggerated, hoping Zak would follow suit. “In through your nose. Come on, you got this.”

Zak’s chest hitched, his breath shaky, but he followed Niko’s lead, inhaling slowly through his nose. His stomach still churned violently, the nausea making his head swim, but the panic was starting to ebb, just enough for his body to stop fighting itself.

“That’s it,” Niko said softly, still rubbing circles on Zak’s back. “Let your body do its thing. Don’t force it.”

Zak gagged again, his body lurching forward over the toilet, but this time, it wasn’t just dry heaves. His stomach finally gave in, the nausea breaking free as he retched, his whole body trembling with the effort. The sound was awful, wet and raw, but there was a sense of relief in it, like his body was finally letting go.

Niko stayed close, his hand never leaving Zak’s back, steadying him through the retching. “That’s it. You’re doing good,” he murmured, his voice soft and comforting.

Zak gagged again, harder this time, and a thin stream of bile spilled from his mouth, his body shuddering with the effort. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and Niko could see the tension starting to ease from Zak’s shoulders, the panic slowly fading as his body began to cooperate.

“There you go,” Niko said, his tone soothing. “Just let it out. Don’t hold back.”

Zak heaved again, this time more forcefully, and more bile followed, his breath hitching between gags. The relief was slow, but it was there, each retch bringing a little more comfort, a little more ease to the tightness in his chest.

Niko stayed with him through it all, his presence steady and calm, his hand warm and reassuring against Zak’s back. And as Zak’s body finally began to settle, the nausea easing just enough for him to catch his breath, Niko leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper.

“See?” Niko said, his lips quirking

into a soft smile. “Told you I’ve got you.”

Zak let out a weak chuckle, his body trembling with exhaustion. “You’re... way too good at this.”

Niko grinned, giving Zak’s back a gentle pat. “What can I say? You’re lucky to have someone with a shitload of practice in the art of puking your guts up.”

For a few precious moments, it seemed like Zak had finally found some relief. His breathing had evened out, his body no longer shaking as violently as it had in the bathroom. Niko helped him back to his feet, one arm steady around Zak’s waist as they slowly made their way back to the bed. Zak leaned heavily on Niko, still drained from the effort of being sick, but the tightness in his chest had eased, if only slightly.

“You doing alright now?” Niko asked as they sank back onto the bed, his voice softer, laced with the kind of calm assurance that Zak had come to rely on.

Niko pulled the blanket up over Zak, tucking it around him with a kind of ease that belied the worry in his eyes.

Zak nodded, though he didn’t fully trust his stomach yet. “Yeah... I think so,” he murmured, his voice hoarse from all the retching.

His head still felt heavy, his limbs weak, but the nausea had settled for the time being, leaving behind a strange, uneasy calm.

Niko sat down beside him, close enough that their shoulders brushed, and watched Zak carefully.

“Just take it easy,” Niko said, leaning back against the headboard. “If you start feeling off again, let me know, alright?”

Zak gave a weak smile. “What, so you can lecture me about how you told me so?”

Niko grinned, the teasing glint returning to his eyes. “I would never. I’m too mature for that.”

Zak chuckled softly, though the sound was thin, tired. “Right.”

They settled back into the bed, the room once again falling into that heavy quiet. For a little while, it seemed like the worst had passed.

Zak’s eyelids fluttered shut, his body sinking into the mattress as the exhaustion started to take over. Niko stayed close, his gaze still flicking back to Zak every few minutes, watching for any signs of discomfort, though it seemed—for now—that Zak was in the clear.

But the reprieve was short-lived.

Not long after they had settled, Zak stirred again, his brow furrowing as a familiar unease crept back into his stomach. He shifted under the blankets, a soft groan slipping from his lips as the nausea began to resurface—this time, more intense, more insistent. His chest tightened, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he instinctively curled in on himself, one hand pressing against his stomach.

Niko noticed the change immediately. “Zak?” he asked, his voice low, cautious. “You good?”

Zak didn’t answer right away. His throat felt tight, and a cold sweat was already starting to bead on his forehead. His stomach twisted violently, the nausea crashing over him like a tidal wave, and this time, it was relentless. It felt different from earlier—more urgent, more overwhelming. His breath hitched, panic sparking at the edges of his mind as he pressed a hand to his mouth, trying to will it away.

But it was too late.

Zak’s stomach lurched hard, and he knew there was no holding it back this time. A wave of nausea surged up his throat, and without thinking, he covered his mouth with his hand, his eyes widening in panic.

“Niko—” Zak barely managed to choke out before his body betrayed him.

Niko was already moving, but it wasn’t fast enough.

Zak doubled over, his hand still clamped over his mouth, but it was no use. The nausea tore through him with a ferocity he hadn’t felt earlier, and before he could make it off the bed, his body gave in completely.

He gagged hard, and then the contents of his stomach came pouring out with no hesitation, soaking the sheets beneath him in a hot, wet mess. His whole body shook with the force of it, his breath hitching in between each violent retch.

Niko barely flinched. He reacted with the calm precision of someone who had seen this too many times before. His hand shot out to steady Zak, pulling the blanket out of the way as much as he could while he helped Zak lean forward, keeping him from slipping further into panic.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Niko said, his voice steady, though he moved quickly, already grabbing a towel from the side of the bed. He wasn’t phased by the mess—he’d dealt with worse himself on plenty of occasions—but Zak was already spiraling, the embarrassment and discomfort clear in the way his body stiffened, his chest heaving with each shaky breath.

Zak tried to speak, but another gag ripped through him, his whole body curling in on itself as his stomach heaved again. This time, there was no resistance—his body had decided it was done holding anything back.

The sheets were already soaked, and Zak’s face was twisted in both discomfort and horror as more of the contents of his stomach spilled out in a sickening rush.

“Shit—sorry,” Zak choked out between breaths, his voice trembling. His face was flushed, his eyes watery, and he looked completely defeated. “I—Niko, I can’t—”

“Don’t,” Niko interrupted, his voice firm but still gentle. He scooted closer, rubbing slow circles on Zak’s back with one hand while using the other to guide him slightly forward, trying to keep him from choking. “Don’t apologize. Just breathe.”

Zak gagged again, the sound raw and harsh, but this time, the nausea didn’t hold back. His stomach finally seemed willing to give everything up, each retch bringing a surge of relief, even as it left him weak and shaking. His breath hitched between each heave, his body trembling as it continued to purge itself, as if everything he had eaten in the past month was trying to force its way out at once.

Niko didn’t move from his spot beside Zak, his hand steady on Zak’s back, his voice low and calm as he murmured reassurances. “It’s okay. Just let it out. You’re alright, Zak. I’ve got you.”

Zak’s body jerked forward again, another wet gag tearing through him, and this time, it felt like his stomach had completely given in. There was no stopping it now—his body was done fighting, done holding anything back.

The sheets were ruined, but Zak barely registered it. All he could feel was the overwhelming nausea, the relentless churn in his gut as everything poured out in an unstoppable rush.

His breath came in short, desperate gasps between retches, and he felt his chest tighten again, panic creeping in as the mess spread beneath him. But Niko was there, steady and calm, his voice cutting through the haze of panic like a lifeline. “You’re okay. Breathe, Zak. I’m right here.”

Zak tried to catch his breath, but another wave of nausea hit him hard, and he gagged violently, his body shuddering with the effort. The mess beneath him grew worse, but Niko didn’t even blink. He just kept his hand on Zak’s back, his touch grounding, calming.

“It’s alright,” Niko said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Zak’s body began to settle. The retching slowed, his breath coming in shaky gasps as his stomach finally started to calm. He slumped back, exhausted, his body trembling from the effort. His skin was pale, slick with sweat, and his chest rose and fell with labored breaths.

Niko could see the panic, the aftermath of vomiting through a panic attack. He saw it, but kept his mouth shut as he gently pulled the ruined blanket off the bed, balling it up in a way to contain the mess a little more. His focus was entirely on Zak, who was now leaning over the side of the bed, his head hanging low, his breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.

“You okay?” Niko asked quietly, his hand still resting on Zak’s back, the soothing circles never stopping.

Zak nodded weakly, though he didn’t lift his head. “Yeah... I think so,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. His body still trembled, but the worst had passed, leaving him drained and spent. “I’m sorry—”

“Stop,” Niko cut in gently, his tone firm but caring. “You don’t need to apologize for anything. You’re sick. That’s it.”

Zak let out a shaky breath, his hand rubbing at his face, still embarrassed by the mess. “I didn’t mean to...”

“I know you didn’t,” Niko said, his voice soft. He stood up, grabbing another towel from the bathroom and gently wiping Zak’s face with it. “Don’t worry about the sheets. I’ll call housekeeping. Do you want a shower? Clean up a bit?”

Zak leaned into the touch, his body still weak, but the panic had started to ebb, replaced by a weary relief. His stomach had finally given in, and though it had left him exhausted, there was a strange sense of comfort in knowing he didn’t have to fight it anymore.

Zak nodded, “Yeah.. no, I’m disgusting and I would rather not face housekeeping like this… I’m still sorry this is my fault I don’t-“

Niko smiled softly, his hand brushing through Zak’s damp hair. “Uh, no. Montreal was my fault, this,” Niko said, pausing to gesture at the mess, “is not your fault.”

“Not your fault you have… whatever that is that makes you puke so damn much,” Zak said, slowly getting out of bed and going toward his suitcase to grab a change of clothes.

“Then even more reason why you shouldn’t say this is your fault,” Niko said, already working on gathering up what he could for the poor housekeepers, “Go shower. You’ll be alright.”

Zak nodded, “Thank you. I owe you.”

“You’re probably contagious,” Niko shrugged, chuckling softly, “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

#emeto #sickfic #emeto fic #emetophilia #emeto cw #emeto tw #emeto writer #fever cw #fever tw

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camashred · 6 months ago

Text

If you're wondering "what is this and why is it screaming?" then you can ask that to all the local villagers who have to hear it every other day. On the upside it keeps the goblins at bay.

OSRS chathead for soapy-cat on FA! <3

#blender #retro #camashred #3d #osrs #runescape #low poly #animation #animated #gif #cat #collar #furry

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gwenstacyluver · 1 year ago

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Better be fucking prepared cause I’ve been waiting since 2021

can You do Gwen Stacy x Mute!FemaleReader and Gwen hears Reader speak for the first time and she gets excited because Hobie +the group have been trying to make her talk for months

G: hey do you think this dress fits me? (Or suit, your choice)

R out of nowhere: You look good In everything

G: really? Because I- WAITADAMNMINUTE :0

Not good at Explaining since I’m not used to asking requests and finally decide to pull out my whole ass list and ask, Anyway Hope you doing well and have a good day/night!!! <3

(≧◡≦) ♡ FOR THE FIRST TIME

summary: while out on a shopping spree gwen looks so beautiful you just have to say something

pairing: gwen stacy x mute! fem reader

a/n: bai I have like 7 drafts already but this was too cute.. 😑

_______________________________________________

[NAME] AND GWEN’S RELATIONSHIP WAS…

confusing to say the least, the two girls had been in a situation-ship for months, and within those months [name] hadn’t uttered a single word, talking with little sticky notes to be able to maintain conversation with those around her, gwen was the only one she ever felt herself becoming more comfortable around.. more comfortable to talk..

_______________________________________________

the first few weeks of their relationship, gwen tried to get her girlfriend who wasn’t her girlfriend yet to speak to her and her friends, the group joining in now and again to find something that [name] was passionate about to get her to speak, but that never worked. their hard work wouldn’t go to waste, it just made the young girl feel even more comfortable around them. she knew they just.. wanted to hear her more, wanted her to be included in conversation more than she was.. she could only write so fas-

“ does this look cute?” gwen’s question pulled [name] out of her thoughts, the girl looked up and saw gwen holding up a pink dress, it matched the tips of her hair, and it was a few inches off the ground, [name] nodded her head; she could feel the nerves settling in as she imagined how it would look on her girlfriend.

gwen gave a shy smile, and then looked back at the dress. “ ima try it on… see if it looks as cute as I think it does in my head.” her voice was soft, as she threw the dress over her arm, and used her free one to wrap around [name]’s waist “ c’mon.. come with me.” she nodded her head in the way to the dressing rooms.

the short walk there was quick.. and quiet, just the way they liked, the long silence was less awkward now and more comfortable as the months had gone on.

[name] smiled, as she looked over at gwen.. as the two made their way to the dressing room, gwen’s arm dropped from the other girl’s waist. pointing at the nearest dressing room, “ I’ll be in here.. knock on the door if you need me.” she spoke, her wording having become more adjusted to not make her girlfriend feel bad about not talking.

“ shout if you need me “ turned into “ text me if you need me” or “ knock if you need anything.” it put a smile on the young girl’s face knowing gwen had adjusted her vocabulary for her

[name] nodded her head, holding a thumbs up, the two stared at each other for a moment.. just mesmerized, before gwen broke eye contact first, her cheeks red as she pointed at the dressing room again “ I…yeah.” she awkwardly spoke as she walked towards the small room, and closed the door, she stared at the door as she waited for her girlfriend to come back.

her back was against the wall that was across the room, as she pulled out her phone, going to her camera to make sure her afro wasn’t a mess, making sure her makeup was still okay and that her lashes weren’t lifting, but when she heard the door open her gaze was shifted to look at gwen, who now had an awkward smile on her face, holding she held her arms behind her back as she wore the dress.. she looked gorgeous

the first thing [name] could say was

“ wow..” her tone soft and full of emotion

the word caught gwen completely off guard, her eyes looking at her girlfriend in shock and confusion as she heard her voice for the first time

“ wha..” was the only thing she could get out, but [name] kept going “ you are so…just… gorgeous “

that made gwen stop and blush, [name] looked over her girlfriend, still just absolutely smitten by how beautiful she looked, she placed her phone back in her pocket of her skirt and walked towards gwen.

“ can.. can I kiss you..?” she was on a talking streak now, this was the longest she’s ever communicated with someone outside of immediate family where she was borderline forced into communication.

“ yeah..” gwen’s face was now a deep red, as she looked at her girlfriend, a grin plastered on her face.. she didn’t mention her verbal words at all..she would’ve, but she completely forgot [name] was non verbal when that question processed through her brain.

[name] smiled, as she leaned in, her eyes closing, gwen stayed where she was, closing her own eyes and puckering up her lips.

the kiss was soft, gentle but full of emotion and the love the two girls shared for one another, she loved it..

she loved her

#gwen stacy x reader #atsv gwen #gwen stacy x y/n #gwen stacy x you #gwen stacy #gwen stacy x fem!reader #x black fem reader #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x gwen stacy #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv x reader #spiderman #into the spider verse #x black reader #gwen Stacy x black reader

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