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prettyfastcars · 1 year ago

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He has me by my heart | Mob!Lando x Reader

Summary: Lando is bad for you. You know that, countless people have told you this. But no matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him.

Themes: mob!lando, daddy kink, smut, explicit language, possessive!lando,

a/n: you know those videos of Lando being escorted by police in italy yeahhhh

You saw it on the news.

Then again, everyone did. Ever since he was arrested a few weeks ago, people tuned in any moment they could to follow his story. He was well-known, filthy rich, and dangerous. He went against the law a lot. But somehow there was never enough evidence against him that incriminated him.

Lando had too many loyal servants who were willing to lay down their lives in order to keep him away from being locked up in prison. But a few weeks ago, a couple days after you both broke up after a huge fight, he was arrested.

Apparently he got into a rather violent fight at some exclusive club. Videos of it circulated around everywhere. And it was the most convicting evidence that had ever surfaced regarding him so the authorities used that to at least lock him up for a little time while they tried to dig up more stuff about him.

However, that ended up not happening. Lando’s people kept everything clean. Every dirty work happened in the dark with no witnesses. Every skeleton was carefully placed in impregnable closets. So the authorities had no choice but to release him.

The day of his release, you watched him on TV. How he gloated as the authorities let him go. How he enjoyed the many cameras filming him, taking pictures of him which would later surely spark many conversations in the media. He had always liked the attention.

Even through the screen you could see it on his face. The arrogance, the smirks, the determined, proud look in his eyes like he was an unchallengeable monarch. He walked to his car, grinning like a king. He was, in many ways. A king in the darker side of life.

Just then, your phone rang. It was an unknown number. You answered it with your heart racing, part of you already knew who was calling.

“Hello?” You tried your hardest to sound as unbothered as possible.

He chuckled from the other side of the call. “Hey princess, missed me?”

You exhaled shakily, “Lando.”

He scoffed, “You sound a little out of breath there, baby. Have you been watching me on TV?” He laughed. “You knew they could never keep me locked up for long, didn’t you princess? We talked about this, remember?”

Oh. So he was doing the thing where he pretended that you two hadn’t had a big fight, said cruel things to each other and decided to go your separate ways. Yet again.

“Why are you calling me?” You said, “We broke up, remember?”

He sighed like he was annoyed, “Come on, princess. You know that wasn’t real, right?” He argued. “We were both tired and angry, and we didn’t mean it.” He didn’t even wait for you to respond as he said, “I’m coming over later, and then we’ll talk. Alright, princess? I can’t wait to see you.”

With that he ended the call. And you were standing there in the middle of your apartment feeling confused. As always.

When he comes over later, you thought, you’d set everything straight and break up with him for good this time.

—

Hours passed.

You realised you shouldn’t just sit and wait for him. But you were anxious so you couldn’t do anything else other than wait.

Later in the evening, three knocks at your door signalled that he was here. You stood there for a short while, fresh out of the shower and still in your fluffy robe as you stared at the door. You decided you were going to keep this short.

He’d walk in, you’d talk, and then you’d ask him to leave. Right? Right.

But then you opened the door. And there he was, in a fresh suit. His hair was a fluffy, curly mess. He smelt amazing. And that soft, puppy dog look in his blue-green eyes.

“Hi princess,” He said, already walking in and shutting the door behind him, “I’ve missed you.”

Your walls came crashing down instantly. You had your arms around him before you even realised it. Your face pushed into the crook of his neck as you shed a few tears and inhaled his familiar scent. Body wash and cologne.

“I was so scared I would never see you again.” You found yourself mumbling against his skin as he backed you into the closest wall.

He laughed as you pulled away to wipe your tears, “Babygirl,” He cooed, “You know that would never happen.” He cupped your teary face in his large hands and smiled at you. “Were you worried for me? Hmm?”

You nodded. He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you. Soft lips against yours, you melted into him. Your back against the wall, your fingers tangled in his hair while he moaned shamelessly into the kiss… playfully biting your lips.

“I’ve missed you so much, princess.” His hands wandered, undoing the knot at the front of your robe. He let out a strained groan when he finally felt your warm skin. He whispered between messy, hungry kisses, “Daddy missed you so much.”

He pulled away to look at you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his lips were now fuller. Fuck, he was your weakness.

“Missed this mouth,” He whispered while tracing your lips with the tip of his finger. His mere touch was driving you insane. So much so that you dropped down to your knees even before he asked you to.

Lando looked down at you with pride in his eyes and a devilishly handsome smirk on his face. “That’s my good girl,” He said breathlessly, caressing your cheek gently as he watched you undo his zipper and pull down his briefs.

His cock stood proud and tall in front of you. Your mouth watered shamelessly at the sight of it. Thick and big, you realised you’d missed him just as much. Your hands instinctively wrapped around his length and you placed the tip against your lips, kissing it and feeling the pre cum coating your lips.

Lando hissed in pleasure as you pushed him into your mouth, taking in the tip and swirling your tongue around him.

“I missed your fucking mouth, babygirl…”

He whispered your name under his breath, his hand holding your head and guiding you up and down his cock. His taste drove you crazy. As did the sounds which left his mouth.

You intended on making him come hard and fast.

“Fuck…,” He moaned again, right before coming undone all over your tongue. “You did so good, princess.”

You looked up at him, still kneeling on the cold floor. You’d missed this too.

“Stand up,” He ordered. And when you did, he leaned in to kiss you again. Rougher this time, more demanding as he pulled you away from the wall and guided you over to your living room. He grabbed your face gently by the chin and said, “Can you go make daddy a drink, princess?”

You nodded immediately. Lando smiled, kissing you briefly on the lips before smacking you gently on the butt as you walked over to the mini bar to make him a drink. You watched him the whole time you poured his whiskey in a glass.

You watched how he got rid of his suit jacket, unbuttoned his white shirt and plopped down on the couch. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment. He looked like he was at peace. So much so that you almost hesitated before you gently touched his face to get his attention.

Lando smiled at you as he took the glass from you first, then pulled you onto his lap. Palms gently caressing his smooth chest, you admired your man. His beard seemed coarse you realised as you stroked his cheek. You wondered whether it would feel rougher in between your thighs.

Judging by the smirk on his face, Lando thought of the same thing as he sipped on his drink. And his hooded eyes silently promised you ‘later’. His free hand rubbed up and down your exposed thigh, until he reached in between your legs.

He shamelessly watched how his fingers softly rubbed your throbbing clit. You whimpered softly, grinding against his hand on his lap.

“Who took care of you while I was away?” He asked.

You knew what he meant. Jealous, territorial, over protective man that he was.

“No one,” You answered, whining as he slid a finger inside you.

He swallowed all of the whiskey and leaned in to kiss you again. He kissed down your neck, and all while slowly fingerfucking you he whispered along your collar bones, “If I find out someone touched you while I was gone I’m gonna do terrible,” He licked and bit your skin mid-sentence, “horrible things to them.” He left marks on your skin, marking his territory. “And I’ll make you watch.”

You couldn’t help the unexpected giggle that escaped your lips. “No one touched me,” You assured him. “I took care of myself.” You added.

Lando pulled away from your skin smirking like the handsome devil he was. “Yeah?” He insisted, “Show me how.”

You gave him a shy smile.

“Come on,” He said. “Show me how you touched yourself while I was away.”

So you gave him a little show. Still on his lap as you touched yourself, like you did almost every night when he was gone. Even when you were angry at him, nothing else got you off like the memories of the moments you both spent under the covers.

Lando leaned back for a minute, his hands lazily rubbing up and down your thighs while he carefully followed your finger as it dipped in and out of your wet hole. His eyebrows furrowed everytime you moaned or let out a wanton gasp.

He grabbed your thighs tightly each time he had to hold back from shoving your hands away to touch you. His shameless stare urged you to keep going. Lando was almost just as breathless as you were when you brought yourself to the edge, slowing down and not wanting to come just yet.

“Please…” You murmured, removing your hand away and looking into his dangerously pretty eyes. “Please,” You begged again

He looked up at you and smirked. He knew what you wanted. You wanted him to make you come. His smug grin widened before he taunted, “Aww what is it, princess? Your fingers don’t feel as good as daddy’s?” He cooed, “Hmm? You want daddy to make you come, don’t you?”

You nodded quickly. Lando just smirked and shook his head. Then before you knew it, you were being pushed down onto the couch. You laid on your back while he hovered above you. You could feel the metal chain around his neck just barely brushing against your chest.

“It’s okay, babygirl.” He whispered, his face inches above yours. “Daddy’s here now.” He said before leaning in to kiss your lips. His tongue gently stroking your lower lip, then his mouth trailed downwards, kissing your neck, your collar bones down to your breasts, licking and kissing and leaving behind his marks on your skin.

Your body felt hot. Burning under him as he took his time and kissed every inch of your skin. “Missed you,” he whispered as he pressed kisses down your chest.

Within seconds his fingers found their way in between your legs again, carefully parting your wet folds before slipping inside you.

He asked, “Do your fingers feel this good, princess?” Lando leaned in again, and kissed along your jaw while his fingers stroked you gently. “I bet they don’t.”

You whined and squirmed and you wanted more. You threw your head back and whined loudly, you felt your walls clench around his fingers.

He smirked, feeling it too. “Oh? You wanna cum, is that it?” he leaned in closer, whispering against your mouth, “You want it so bad, don’t you princess?” he teased, chuckling darkly.

You moaned, and whined and tried your hardest to keep quiet but you ended up being loud anyways. His touch, his stare, his words… “Look at you,” he whispered, kissing and biting down on your skin occasionally as his fingers took you higher. “So perfect for daddy.”

He bit down on your neck as you squirmed, moaning shamelessly.

“Come for me, babygirl.”

You did. Welcoming the sweet pressure in between your legs and you came with a loud cry all over his fingers, coating them with your arousal and making him hiss and swear at the sight of you so beautifully dishevelled.

He had missed this indeed.

“You’re all mine,” Lando said.

You were still recovering from your previous orgasm that you didn’t realise his mouth was on you again, the lower half of his face completely submerged in between your legs, which were on each of his shoulders as his tongue tasting you shamelessly, eagerly.

“Fuck,” He moaned against your wetness. The sound of it making you shiver.

His tongue slipped past your folds and teased your entrance, occasionally flicking your sensitive clit mercilessly. Your hands immediately gripped his messy, curly hair and tugged gently at his roots.

“You taste so good, princess.”

You whimpered under his touch, feeling his faintly rough stubble rubbing against your soft skin. It burned a little, but you enjoyed each and every second of it and craved for more. His mouth felt good.

“Fuck… Lando,” You moaned out loud as your back arched off the couch for just a moment, your eyes closing and your head leaning back as you felt a wave of intense pleasure wash over you.

“You’re gonna cum for me, is that it, hmm?” He whispered and got back to teasing your clit with his warm and wet tongue, relishing your taste.

“Please, please….” You murmured. He chuckled, his warm breath fanning your wet folds.

“Come on, ask nicely.” He whispered, biting down on your hip bone before kissing his way back to your clit.

“Please daddy,” You whined, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Please, can I come?”

His smirk meant that he was satisfied. “Of course you can, princess.” He murmured. “Come all over daddy’s tongue.”

Lando got back to eating you out like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do. The pressure in between your legs was building up nicely. So with a few more strokes of his tongue, you let go and came all over his face.

The waves of pleasure which washed over you were so intense that you teared up as you came, grinding your hips against his waiting mouth. And Lando lapped up whatever you gave him. He couldn’t get enough.

When he finally pulled away to let you breath for a moment, he kissed your thighs, admiring the pretty mess that you were.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, princess,” he whispered, looking down at you. “All mine.” He had that feral look in his eyes. Shameless, and raw. Passionate, and unrestrained. He wanted you and he wasn’t hiding it. “Get on your hands and knees.” He ordered.

You did as he asked. You knelt on the couch, holding onto the back while he stood behind you surely admiring your ass as your back faced him.

Lando trailed a finger lazily up your spine before sliding his fingers around your neck. He gripped your throat gently, and tightened his grip just enough so he got your full attention. His lips hovered over the side of your throat and his other hand reached around and toyed with your clit, his fingers making you tremble.

You could feel his erection pressing against your butt. And your heart raced in anticipation.

“Daddy missed this pussy, princess.” He whispered into your ear, his fingers teasing your clit until you were embarrassingly wet for him. “I know you missed daddy’s cock, didn’t you? Hmm?”

You whined in response as his tongue licked along your neck.

His hand gripped your throat, eliciting a loud moan out of you. “Answer me, babygirl.” He said. “Use your words and tell daddy you want his cock.”

His fingers left your clit as he undid his trousers again, grabbed you by the hips and aligned his cock to your entrance. Pushing against it just enough to make you lose your mind but not enough.

Damn him. He knew just what to do. How to play you to get you to do exactly what he wanted. You pushed back against him, desperately craving friction, as you whimpered, “Please daddy, I want your cock. Please…”

He chuckled. “There’s my good girl.” He praised and gripped the sides of your hips tighter. He pushed into you with ease, earning a sinful moan out of you.

Lando groaned as he filled you up entirely, your ass cheek pressing into his pelvic bone as he buried his cock into you. Your knuckles gripped the back of the couch tightly as you felt the familiar pressure forming again in no time, given you were already so sensitive and sore from before.

You were barely able to think straight. You’d missed him. You’d missed this way too much. Having him right now gave you a high you did not quite comprehend but you were grateful for it.

“So fucking good… princess…” Lando spoke in a haze, and you barely heard him as the only thing you focused on was how good he felt, sliding in and out of you. His cock stretching you out each time he fit it snugly inside you.

He felt it too. He relished the sounds your bodies made together. The careless moans he earned out of you, how wet and ready you were for him. How perfectly you clenched around his cock. Your soft, often loud, whimpers and his groans of pleasure.

“I dreamt of this perfect, warm pussy the whole time I was locked up in there, you know that, princess?” Lando pounded into you like his life depended on it. Stretching you out and filling you up each time he rammed his cock into your entrance.

You could feel the soreness his touch would leave behind, and you didn’t care. But fuck… his dirty mouth only made him hotter.

“The only that kept me going was knowing that I’d come home to you and fuck you like this,” He whispered, and you felt his cock throb against your walls. You tightened around him, feeling your orgasm so close that you almost shed tears again.

Lando kept mumbling in the throes of pleasure, “Like you were made for me, for this cock…” He trailed off, moaning in that boyish way that only made you want to come harder. “It’s all you’re good for, isn’t it, babygirl? Hmm?”

Right there… you were tight on the edge, ready to let go…

But just as you were, he pulled out and flipped you around. You were on your back again, looking up at him. His roughness only turning you on even more.

He smirked when he saw that look of uncontained desire on your face. “Not so easily, princess.” He chuckled. “Daddy spent all this time away from you. So it’s only fair that now you beg for my cock.” He parted your legs, and settled in between them again, his cock slipping inside you once again. “Beg for me.”

When he saw that you didn’t, his fingers wrapped around your throat once more. “I said,” he growled, “beg.”

Your lips parted as you gasped, giving in. You’d do anything for him you realised.

“Daddy please… please make me cum…” you whined, “I missed you so much, I need you-,” you cut yourself off, moaning wantonly as he began fucking you hard and fast again.

He grunted and moaned shamelessly right in your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace. He pounded into you incessantly.

You stared into his eyes, tears escaping your eyes, lips swollen and bruised, neck littered with his bite marks, and your eyes just as wild and passionate as his. His messy hair, that dangerous way of his, his reckless nature, that annoying arrogance, his pride was his fatal flaw and yet… Oh fuck you loved him.

Lando smirked, leaning in to whisper against your mouth, “Daddy loves you more, princess.”

Well, guess you said it out loud then.

“You belong to me, don’t you? Hmm?”

“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, daddy can I-”

The pleasure was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore. So, you came all around his cock, moaning and squirming. Your fingers scratching his neck, your arms holding him tight like he was your lifeline. He was, in more ways than one.

Lando moaned out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you, filling you up again. “Fuck,” He groaned, his voice a little hoarser. “Fuck, princess.” He sighed, putting his whole body weight onto you for a moment. He nuzzled your neck and left soft kisses along your skin.

You let him rest for a moment, mindlessly playing with his hair. You almost laughed thinking about how your initial plan was to kick him out of your life, forever. But deep down you knew, you could never get rid of Lando.

No matter how corrupted, dark, and wicked he was. No matter how possessive, jealous, and insane he could be, almost childishly so. Despite it all, he had you by your heart, and there was no getting away from him.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris #lando norris x you #mob!lando #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 au

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buckysgrace · 2 months ago

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Sleepless Nights

Steve Harrington X Fem!Reader

Flufftober 2024

Steve and you celebrate your first Halloween with your baby.

The air was crisp and cool, chilly as you struggled to get the door shut as the gust of wind slammed in behind you once again. Discarded leaves danced inside, adding to the pile at your doormat.

Inside was warmer, the heat already on and comforting as the warm glow of the lights kicked on. It was only about four, but the sun was already dipping below the trees. And despite your house being older and much too large for the three of you, it was cozy. You had done a lot of touch ups over the summer, before you had to wiggle around to get off of the couch. Now, you were just too sore.

“It’s freezing out there,” Steve huffed, rubbing his hands together as he helped you carry the rest of the bags in the kitchen. He stalled at the kitchen table, peeking into the bundled form, “We might not get many trick or treaters this year.” He commented, though he sounded far away.

“How is she?” You asked, dipping your head down to where Steve had placed the baby carrier. He grinned, tilting his head back a bit to reveal the slumbering baby for you. Full cheeks and soft lips, her hair thick like her father’s. She was the cutest little thing you had ever seen.

Eloise Ester Harrington. Named after his grandmother and one of your favorite book characters. A fair comparison you had thought. She had been just under eight pounds and was still very, very fussy. But you still loved her all the same.

“Out like a light,” He smiled, a proud look in his eyes, “I told you she wouldn’t do bad.” He gave you a cocky look before he turned, unbuckling the little straps of her harness before he lifted her to freedom. She pulled her knees up to her chest, eyes still tightly shut as he brought her to his chest.

“Yeah she was fine after she puked everywhere.” You reminded him, pressing your lips into a smile as you worked on dumping the candy you’d just bought into your Halloween bowl. It was orange with dancing skeletons on it. You liked it a lot.

“She has a sensitive tummy,” He defended playfully, gently rubbing circles into her back, “How do you feel?” He asked you, checking up on you for what had to be the third time since you’d left a little bit ago. You appreciated it.

“Fantastic,” You teased as you unwrapped a lollipop and placed it into your mouth, “Really, I’m fine. I liked getting out of the house.” You admitted, enjoying the fresh air even if it had felt like your fingers had grown frozen.

“Do you still want to dress up?” He asked you curiously, tilting his head as he rocked the newborn back and forth in his arms. She stretched her little arms out, yawning before she dropped her face against his chest once again.

“Absolutely,” You told him seriously, “We’re supposed to match, I’m not gonna be left out.” You reminded him quickly, knowing that you would have fun with him. The previous years you’d dressed up and gone to some silly party, but this year it was just going to be the two of you. Well, now three.

“We’d never leave you out,” He teased, giving you a little kiss on the cheek, “I can make dinner.” He suggested, as if he hadn’t been doing that for the past few months. You often felt guilty for him working and spending so much time taking care of you and Eloises.

“I think we should order pizza,” You suggested instead, wanting him to have a little break, “We can get dressed and then get the movie set up, how does that sound?” You suggested, giving his hip a little squeeze as you walked with him up towards the room.

“Good,” He nodded his head, “Can we watch mine first?” He asked you, gently balancing Eloise against his side as he pulled the closet open.

“Gremlins?” You questioned, biting back a grin at the sheepish look he sent you, “Then we’re watching The Evil Dead.” You told him seriously, desperately needing to watch your favorite movie.

“I don’t mind it,” He defended himself quickly, “I just like the little mice things more.” He shrugged his shoulders as you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to determine if you would classify the Gremlins as rodents. Perhaps.

You both had decided on something easy, something loose so you didn’t have to wear anything too constricting. You both bore overalls, similar long sleeved button up shirts and cowboy hats to be farmers. Eloise was your little piggy, her little onesie pink and tight against her tummy that was full of milk.

Steve was the first one at the door, happily passing out rounds and rounds of candy as he showed you and Eloise off the whole time. You couldn’t help but smile, excited that he thought so highly of you.

Some time later you had decided to leave the rest of the candy outside, fearing that the wind might be too chill for little Eloise. You felt safe with your worries with Steve, especially since you were both new time parents. Perhaps a little more paranoid than you needed to be.

“Hello,” Robin grinned, her smile tight as she entered the house, “Steve said I didn’t need to knock.” She replied awkwardly, arms placed down to her sides as she stared at you.

“You don’t,” You reassured her, “There’s leftover pizza if you want some.” You offered, turning your attention fully towards her and away from the TV. You pointed towards the kitchen, not wanting her to feel so stiff and nervous.

“Awesome,” She nodded as she placed her hands in her pockets, staring at where you had Eloise resting against your chest, “But can I hold her first?” She asked hopefully, her blue eyes twinkling as she glanced down at the baby in your arms.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” Steve smirked, moving his hand away from where he had been resting his cheek against his knuckles, “She’s pretty cool, isn’t she?” He commented, watching the gentle way you passed Eloise to her.

“Wow,” Robin commented, brushing her fingers gently against the top of Eloise’s hair, “Who knew you could make something so cute, Harrington?” She grinned as she nudged you with her elbow, making you shake your head.

“Ha, so funny,” He scoffed in return, “It’s almost like you’ve said that already.” He responded dryly, rolling his pretty brown eyes as you found yourself watching in admiration. You thought that your baby had the perfect mixture of him. And that he was very handsome. Pretty.

“Four times,” She whispered to you, “Hey, Eloise and Steve can learn to count together.” She continued to mock him, looking excited as she brushed her finger across Eloise’s nose. He huffed, placing his hands on his knees before he forced himself up from his spot.

“Your baby privileges are banned,” Steve replied, shaking his head as he scooped the newborn back up, “You can have her back when you learn to be nice.” He told her with a nod of his head as she gaped in surprise.

“That’s not fair.” She pouted as she looked at you, but you only shrugged your shoulders. He didn’t want any negative talk around the baby.

“He’s a bit of a baby hog,” You admitted, grinning at the way Eloise rested easily against his chest, “But he’s helpful. He gets up every single time she cries.” You explained, smiling softly as you watched him. He had been more than helpful, before labor, during and after.

“I try to be,” He cocked his eyebrows at Robin, seemingly showing off as he rested Eloise across his chest, “She’s a good baby.” He added, pretending to pet your baby’s back.

“I wouldn’t know.” She grumbled, dramatically crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at him.

“You’ve seen her plenty of times,” He rolled his eyes dramatically, “Was there still candy out there?” He asked a second later, glancing towards her curiously. She furrowed her eyebrows together.

“What candy?” She asked you both seriously, her knees bumping against your thigh as she faced the two of you better.

“In the candy bowl,” You explained, “It got too cold for us to sit out there any longer.” You told her, glancing back over your shoulder to ensure that you had kept the outside light on.

“Sorry to tell you,” She said slowly, “But there was no candy bowl out there.” She held her palms up to the air, shrugging as she broke the news. You gaped, understanding that the kids might want the candy but could they not leave the bowl behind?

“Someone ran off with our candy bowl?” Steve grumbled, “Crotch goblins.”’ He shook his head, playing with Eloise’s thick hair.

“Dad of the year.” Robin teased, grinning at the way he rolled his eyes once again. You laughed at their relationship, not quite understanding how they were always so mean but loving towards one another.

You and Robin chatted about how her work was going and about her struggling relationship as you fed Eloise. You were still trying to get used to breastfeeding, feeling a little embarrassed as you kept yourself closely covered.

“Can you get a picture of us?” Steve asked suddenly as he returned from the kitchen, a can of Coke in one hand as he passed the camera to Robin without waiting for her response.

“Can I hold the baby again?” She asked quickly, eyebrows raised as she linked her fingers together over her stomach. He placed a hand on his waist.

“Do you remember her name?” He asked seriously, making you press your lips into a smile. Eloise popped her eyes open slowly, glancing around as you wiped drool from the corner of her lips.

“Her name should’ve been Robin, but yes. I do.” She agreed, making you laugh softly. She had been suggesting that ever since you and Steve had found out you were having a girl.

“Why would I name my baby after you?” He scoffed playfully, gripping her hand and forcing her out of the chair. He plopped down where she had been sitting.

“Why would you name her after your grandma?” She asked in return, making him pause for a second as he thought over his answer

“Fair,” He nodded in agreement, smiling as invited you closer to him, “C’mere, baby.” He smiled, brushing his nose against your cheek as Robin got the camera set up.

You wiggled your way underneath his arm, resting your head against his as he gently held Eloise up. You smiled as you squeezed onto his waist, your heart fluttering as you listened to the soft rumble of Steve’s voice.

“Happy Halloween!” He exclaimed to know one in particular, but caught your attention as you glanced at his full smile and relaxed expression. You could get used to this.

#Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve harrington x fem!reader #Steve Harrington x female!reader #Steve Harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x YN #Steve and Robin #Steve harrington imagine #Steve Harrington is a good dad #steve harrington fluff #Flufftober #Flufftober 2024 #Steve Harrington x mom!reader

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moody-alcoholic · 3 months ago

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These Violent Delights

Chapter 7 - Kamikaze love

Summary: Poly 141 x fem!reader, a/b/o alternate universe 7.1k words. A nice easy heat that's what everyone could use, no interruptions, just a few days of mindless sex and some time to relax.

CW: MDNI +18 explicit content. a/b/o alternative universe, a/b/o dynamics, typical a/b/o universe tropes (heat, knotting, claiming), gaslighting, brief mentions of needles, hurt/comfort, angst, sex, PiV sex, fingering, knotting, brief mentions of blood, alcohol.

AN: Heat time baby, the best part of every a/b/o fic amiright. I honestly don't know who had more fun with this chapter me writing it or @rememberwren editing it. XD

Previous - masterlist -next AO3

Enjoy <3

You wake in John’s bed with a pit in your stomach. You’re hungry but your head feels fuzzy, and you’re not quite aware. You need to see Dr. Miller to get your last shot, because with the way you feel, you’re pretty sure your heat will be tomorrow. John is not in the room but you can smell him, the scent goes straight to your head making your body tingle as you pull yourself out of the bed.

You go to your room changing into something comfy and heading to the lab. No one is around. You’re not sure what time it is. You're cold, colder than normal when you step out into the fresh air. Shivers run up and down your body and you pull your arms around your chest. When you get to the lab the place is empty. Dr. Piper's office door is open and you go over to look. She’s not in there. You turn to head up the stairs when the door opens behind you.

“Hey,” Dr. Miller says. You turn to see him with a coffee in his hands. His nostrils flare, you must still smell of sex. All you can smell in the air is alpha. It makes your head spin and you bump into a table. Your body is moving towards him without you thinking. You miss John, you need him right now.

“I think my heat might start tomorrow,” you say as he walks past you. The smell of his alpha makes your mouth water as an ache forms in your stomach.

“Let’s get this done quickly then,” he says, and you follow him over to a desk.

“Where is everyone?” you ask as you take your jacket off.

“Did you not hear? General Shepherd is making a decision on what’s going to happen, with you, the base, 141, everything. He fired almost all the staff. It’s just a skeleton crew and scientists,” he explains as you roll your sleeve up. Why does this feel like it’s your fault?

“What do you think he’s going to say?”

“I heard some things from the other scientists.” His hand is cold on your skin.

“What did you hear?” you ask, watching as he prepares the needle.

“Well there are a lot of people here who still support Professor Hale’s vision. Not everyone wants a cure,” he says, and you nod. You’re not even sure if you want a cure, but you’ll go wherever your pack goes.

“He did love you, you know,” Dr. Miller says pulling your sleeve down. You look at him, confused. You can’t think straight right now. His alpha is too strong in the air and it’s making you woozy.

“Professor Hale,” he says.

“He had a funny way of showing it,” you scoff.

“Well, some would call it tough love. You weren't exactly the most well behaved omega.” He smiles, rolling away on his stool. “Besides, people do horrible things for the people they love. Look at your pack, they’ll kill for you if they had to. They have killed for you.” You look at him, now you’re even more confused. Who have they killed for you?

“Do you think I should go back to the Professor? I know it would make their lives easier,” you say, a wave of guilt coming over you. You don’t want to be a burden to them. Dr. Miller is right, you’re not the best omega, you definitely pushed the Professor’s buttons from time to time. You stand up off the stool, but your legs feel like jelly and you have to brace yourself on the table.

“I think you should do what's best for your pack. Sometimes that means making tough choices, choices we don’t like.”

You nod, he smiles at you before turning back to his laptop.

“What do I do now?” you ask.

“I’ll see you again after your heat.” He smiles. You nod. Your head is pounding now. The shiver running up and down your body feels electric, and you can smell honey in the air.

“Do you think the hormone blocker will work?” you ask.

“We’ll see.” He nods and you sigh, leaving the building. The cool air makes your already foggy head spin more. You can still smell his alpha. You’re stumbling down the path thinking back to what he said. The Professor loved you? He had a funny way of showing it.

You stop in your tracks half way back to the barracks. There are dark clouds moving in, and it’s probably going to rain again. You can’t go back to the barracks. You need to think; you need a clear mind.

You can’t do that when all you can smell in the building is alpha. Just thinking about John and the time you spent together yesterday has your body throbbing. You head in a different direction, and before you know where you’re really going you’ve found yourself in the abandoned building you were doing training in a few days ago. You don’t even remember walking here. Your head is stuffy, making you dizzy as you walk through back into the upstairs room with the wooden desk.

You don’t know how many hours have passed but the sky looks different, and your body is stiff as you’re leaning against the desk. Your limbs feel heavy, and the pit in your stomach has turned into a burn. You shiver as a breeze blows through the open window, it stings your cheeks.

You bring your hand up to feel, and they’re wet. You've been crying. You can’t remember what happened. You were with the doctor, then you ended up here. You focus on remembering what you talked to him about, but your mind is drawing a blank, and all you feel is sadness and guilt.

The Professor. He wants you back, and there's a man here to take you. Dr. Miller was right, people do stupid things for the people they love. Love? Do you love John, or is it just because you’re a pack? Thinking about John makes the ache burn inside you deeper than anything you’ve felt before.

You can’t think straight remembering his scent, leather, the ground after rain. You look out the window watching the sky and you can hear the rain starting to fall and the distant rumble of thunder. You need more time to think. You lean back on the desk, closing your eyes.

“Found her.” The smell of alpha hits your nose hard and fast. You’re shivering as you see Simon walk into your view. You look at him confused and dizzy as you try to focus on him. He calls your name, bending down in front of you. Your body is stiff, legs numb. His hand shakes your shoulder. You don’t know what to say. There’s throbbing deep in your core as his scent overwhelms you, all you can smell is alpha.

“Alpha,” you whine reaching out for him, his eyes twinkling in the low light. The sky is full of shades of pink and orange. You project your scent out but all you can smell is honey, you can taste it in the air.

His eyes go wide and he stands back up as another set of footsteps come into the room. You smell beta now, heavy, cutting through your scent. It’s Johnny who kneels down in front of you.

“Hey lass, gave us a right scare you did.” He smiles, reaching out and hooking his arm around you, pulling you to your feet. Your legs feel like jelly and as soon as you go to take a step you stumble. Johnny’s arm stays tight around you though, keeping you steady as you slowly walk out the building.

“Is the General going to take me away?” you ask, your throat dry.

“Never, is that what you’ve been worried about? Is that why you hid?” he asks. You shake your head. You watch as Simon, who had been walking in front of you, stops at the entrance to the barracks.

“I’ll go, tell Price I'll talk to him later.” Johnny nods at him then helps you up the steps into the building. As soon as you get in you’re hit with what feels like a million senses at once. The building is warm and your cold body almost immediately starts to shiver. You can smell worry in the air and alpha. It’s stronger than Simon, and it immediately has your head pounding.

Then there are the voices. Dr. Piper and John get up off the table coming over to you, but you can’t hear what they’re saying. Between the throbbing headache and the shakes you’re struggling to focus. Dr. Piper's cold hands come to your face, and the shock causes you to take in a deep breath clearing your head.

“You’re burning up hun, how are you feeling?” she asks. You don’t know what to say. Your eyes move over to John, he's standing behind her with his arms crossed.

“Alpha,” you call out to him reaching for him, your body moving before you realise it. Dr. Piper moves out the way as your hand stretches out, and he takes a step forward and Johnny transfers you into his arms.

“Si said he’ll catch up with you later,” Johnny says. You close your eyes, letting John’s scent relax you.

“She needs to take a shower, it’ll bring her fever down,” Dr. Piper says. You project your scent into the air, honey and strawberries. It makes you smile.

“Is it her heat?” John asks, swallowing hard.

“The early stages, yes, but she’s got herself worked up for some reason. It’s important she stays calm and we get this fever under control. Stay with her, the last thing we need is her running off again. I will talk to Lieutenant Riley,” you hear Dr. Piper say as John peel's you off his chest.

“Thank you,” John says, turning towards the bathroom. You hear Johnny and Dr. Piper leave.

“You had us worried, you can’t just wander off like that, what if you got hurt?” he says.

“I’m sorry,” you reply. You’re just happy to be near him. He sighs, leading you towards the bathroom. You feel like you're floating as you strip your clothes making your way over to the showers. You turn it up hot letting the water soak you.

You can still feel a chill in the air when you feel John step up behind you. His scent fills your nose and it immediately relaxes you as you lean against him. He holds you up as he reaches over, turning the temperature of the shower down.

“It’s cold,” you protest.

“It’s not cold, you have a fever,” he says, pressing you further into the shower so the water can run over your whole body.

“What are you worried about?” he asks. You sigh, you can’t remember.

“Worried about the heat,” you mumble, turning in his arms.

“Nothing to be worried about,” he says as you try to nuzzle your face in his neck, his scent is going straight to your head. It's been so long since you’ve had anything you can call a ‘normal’ heat. Maybe this is normal, you feel like you just want to cling onto John and never let go. His hands run up your arms and he moves you back a little, the water is cold on your burning skin.

“You’ll be fine, I'll take care of you. We all will.” His hand comes up to your face, his thumb brushes your chin as he pulls your face up to look at him.

He leans down and kisses you, it's slow and soft and makes your whole body tingle. The ache is burning inside you now, all you can smell in the air is honey. He breaks away, turning you around, forcing you to stay in the shower until you’ve cooled down.

He leaves to bring you clean clothes and pajamas. You’re tired when you leave, following John blindly as you dry yourself and change. He leads you into his room. You don’t need to be told anything, you just climb into bed. He doesn’t even have time to get into bed with you. You fall asleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

Your body is burning.

Sweat has made your pajamas and hair stick to you. Each point of contact burns. You grip your top trying to pull it off your chest, anything to give you a break from the overstimulation. John is not in the bed, but you can smell him. You need him. Before you know it you’re kicking the bedding off. Your thighs rub together trying anything to quell the ache throbbing between your legs.

It doesn’t work though, too much slick, there’s no friction even as you pull your sodden shorts and underwear off. John could be working, it could be hours before he’s back, your top brushes your nipples as you turn in the bed causing you to moan out. You grip it, pulling it off over your head. It takes you more effort than you thought and you have to lay back down panting as you catch your breath.

When you can move again you roll to the other side of the bed rubbing your legs together. You can smell him on his pillow which just makes the pain worse. You roll again but this time you misjudge the distance and you roll off the bed. Your head slams painfully on the floor. You cry out, trying to prop yourself up.

The room door opens and it makes you jump pulling your body into the fetal position. You can smell the alpha in the air. It must be John in the doorway, but you’re too confused to tell, still trying to comprehend how you ended up on the floor.

You hear him call Dr. Piper. Definitely John. You relax, going back to prop yourself up so you can make your way over to him. You need him, you need to feel him, you want him inside you.

“Alpha,” you call as another figure walks into the room. There’s a strong smell of beta now. You look up through your hazy eyes seeing Dr. Piper bend down in front of you. She presses her cold hands on your cheeks. She doesn't say anything, just brushes the hair stuck to your forehead.

“Present for your alpha,” Dr. Piper says as she stands back up. The words are familiar to your ears. Your body is already moving, pressing your face and chest into the floor. You thrust your hips up, slick dripping down your thighs, you’re desperate to feel his hands on you, desperate for him to be inside you.

“Please alpha,” you whine, projecting your scent into the room. Dr. Piper knows she can’t stick around for too long. As soon as John gives in he’ll become aggressive to anyone who isn’t his pack.

“Don’t be afraid to hurt her,” she says

“I’m not going to hurt her.”

“She won't remember.”

“I don’t care.”

“She needs you, she’ll do whatever it takes to get you,” Dr. Piper sighs, backing up.

“I’m not going to hurt her,” John repeats. You don't care about him hurting you or not. You need him.

“Don’t think about it too much, your body knows what to do,” she says, taking a step back to the door. “The betas will be in to check on you both.”

John is almost not listening, watching as you back up towards him. Your scent is thick in the air, sweet, so sweet it has John’s mouth watering.

“Please alpha,” you call again. You can smell him in the air. You know he’s near, you need the pain to stop, you need his knot. You’re being a good omega waiting for him and presenting yourself. You feel his hand rest on the bottom of your back and it sends shivers up your spine. His hand travels down to squeeze your ass. Yes yes , his warm hand is on you, you back up more for him moaning into the floor. His scent is strong in the air now, alpha on full display.

“On the bed.” His voice is low, rumbling from the back of his throat. You follow his instructions climbing up on the bed and laying down. You’re rubbing your thighs together trying to get any sort of friction but there’s no release.

“Alpha,” you whine. “Please.”

Your scent is strong in the air but so is his, and it fills your nose just making you more desperate. You arch your back calling out for him again. You can see him in your haze, you know he’s there. He’s taking his clothes off pulling his shirt over his head and stepping out his shoes.

Your eyes scan over him, the fuzziness dispersing for a few seconds as you take in his bare skin. You hear his belt drop to the floor. He’s completely naked now. Your mouth fills with saliva and you lick your lips. You want to reach out and feel him but he leans over you, his hands finding your face.

“I’ve got you.” His pupils dilate as one of his hands runs down your body to your clit. It’s almost too much, and you almost cum just from the brief contact. You can only smell him in the air now, it’s overwhelming, making you dizzy as his hand rests on your abdomen.

His lips meet yours. You’re drinking him up, he tastes amazing, his tongue pressing against yours. He pulls away from the kiss, and you moan in protest, your lips tingling from the lack of contact.

You reach out for him and he sits you up climbing into the bed and kneeling down behind you. He scoops his hands under your armpits pulling you up against his chest as he leans back on the headboard. You can feel his cock between your legs, you want to reach down and grab it, squirming in his arms as he rests you down on his knees.

“Alpha,” you breathe, one of his hands moving down to your clit. His cock twitches, and it makes you whimper. You want it, to feel it, you want it to be inside of you. His breath is hot in your ear as he shushes you.

You tip your head back moaning as he coats his fingers in your slick. He presses his fingers into you and you clench around him, his fingers feel good but his cock would be better. You need his knot, you need him to fill you up.

“Alpha, I need you,” you say, but it just makes him push his fingers into you deeper, his tongue running along your neck.

“What do you need?” he growls. His alpha is on full display, you let it fill your nose, making your mouth water.

“Need your knot.” His fingers leave you and you gasp as he presses them onto your clit. You moan, arms reaching out to grip the bedding. You’re so sensitive it only takes a few seconds before you’re cumming on his hand. More slick gushes out as you feel his cock twitch as he moves, covering his fingers in your slick.

The wet sounds of him pumping his cock isn’t helping quell the ache. You lean forward so he can line himself up with your entrance easier. You bend right over, pressing your hands down on the bed. One of his hands stays around your waist holding you in position as he slowly presses into you. The relief is instantaneous, and you let out a long moan as stars appear in your vision.

You’re almost not paying attention to anything but the satisfaction of having your alpha filling you up. You clench around him, his hands gripping around your stomach pulling you back against him. You didn't think he could go deeper but he does as he grips you tighter to his body. He moves you like you weigh nothing as you moan for him, letting your scent fill the air.

“Such a good omega,” he breathes, his lips running over your neck. It makes you shiver, and the thought of him claiming you makes you clench around him again. He moans, his breath hot on your neck as he bucks his hips into you.

“Alpha—” You’re going to cum, it’s too much. You don’t have time to warn him as you cum around him, slick gushing out as he throbs inside you.

“Christ, love,” he says through gritted teeth. The smell of leather is filling the air now, and it makes you dizzy as you come down from the orgasm. A second later you’re desperate again. There’s no relief, you need his knot, it's the only thing that will make the pain stop.

“Need your knot alpha,” you beg. You don’t wait for him, fucking yourself on his cock as he pants behind you. His hands move up from your hips to your breasts pinching your nipples.

“Yes, yes,” whatever you need to say to get his knot. After a few more seconds his hands grip your hips again as he takes over for you pulling you up and down on him. His nose is nuzzled into your neck. You know he’s going to claim you, his tongue running over your scent gland as he breathes you in.

He moans, pressing little kisses on your neck as you bounce on him. You’re not thinking, you can’t. Knot, knot, it’s all you want. Be a good omega and let him take you, when you’ve done a good enough job you’ll get his knot. Everything feels too good and not enough at the same time.

“You going to be a good omega and let me claim you? Make you mine?” His voice is rumbling, feral in your ear. You’ve never heard him like this before, it makes the hairs stand up on the back of your neck as you breathe him in, getting drunk off his scent. You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to. Your nails dig into your thighs.

“Yes alpha, I want to be your omega.” The response is almost automatic. He hums into your neck, his cock driving into you faster. He’s close again, you can tell, the pheromones in the air are lulling you out, and you don’t know how much more you can take before you’re not aware anymore. Then it happens. His tongue traces up to your scent gland, and you tip your head forward as his teeth sink into you. You yelp in pain. Your whole body tingles, and then you black out.

You come to a few seconds later, pain throbbing at the base of your skull.

“You okay?” he asks, supporting your body against his chest. You nod, your mouth feeling suddenly dry. Your adrenaline is spiked, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You relax back into his arms. You can’t tell if you feel different or not. You can feel the blood trickling down your back. The wound will already be healing and closing up.

You want to touch it, to feel the indents his teeth will have created. You don’t get a chance. He maneuvers your body down onto the bed. You feel empty, the adrenaline wearing off and the ache coming back. Everything will go hazy soon, so you enjoy the feeling of being aware of what’s going on around you as John pulls you into his arms.

After a few minutes things are starting to get hazy again. The burning is back, the ache deep in your core. You need him, need his knot. You’re backing up against him, and you feel his hard cock pressing against you. His hand comes down, his fingers running over your entrance. You gasp as he pushes two fingers in, and you tighten round them, letting him press against your g-spot. It’s not enough though.

“You feel so good, such a good omega. Perfect omega,” he says into your ear. It makes a warmth bubble up inside you. You moan at the praise, his fingers working faster. Before you know it you’re cumming around him. You pant as he sucks on your neck, his tongue brushing past your mark. It sends tingles all down your spine. You’re his omega now, and he’s your alpha. His scent is strong, his fingers still working inside you. He’s not going to stop until you’re cumming again and you don’t care. You’re being a good omega for him, and then he will give you his knot.

“Please—” you beg. He hums, taking his fingers out and pressing them on your clit. You moan. Your body shakes as he rubs your swollen sensitive bud until you’re cumming again on his hand. Your body shakes as he works you through the orgasm. The smell of leather hits your nose as you push up against him. This time he gives you what you want, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Please, John. I need you.” You are begging again, but you don’t really care. You’re desperate for him. His hands keep your hips in place as he pushes inside of you. You feel so full clenching around him as he drives into you.

“Such a good omega, my omega,” he growls into your ear. Warmth blooms inside you, you are his omega.

“Your omega,” you purr as his fingers dig into your hips. The repetitive movements of John bucking his hips into you are making your head spin. You’re getting close and this time you need his knot.

“I need your knot alpha,” you beg.

“You can have my knot, you’ve been such a good omega,” his voice is grumbling as he nips at your neck. It sends shivers down your spine as his tongue traces your mark. You relax for him, letting him move you however he wants to. You lay there as he wraps his arms around you pressing you against him.

You bring your legs up which makes him feel tighter inside you. His thrusts become longer and deeper, hitting a new spot inside that you’ve never felt before. When you cum around him you see fucking stars he moans and he kisses your neck, pulling your hips down as he cums. He’s throbbing inside you as fills you up.

“Such a good girl, good omega,” he pants into your neck. He kisses the mark he left. You finally feel satisfied, his knot inside you. You relax up against him as he reaches down pulling the duvet over you. You hum. You want to thank him but you don’t have the energy. You close your eyes letting out a sigh as his arms wrap around you. It won’t be long before you’re asleep.

It’s 12 hours since your heat has started, and Kyle stands outside John’s room. He knows he has to be careful, he needs to get at least some water into John without startling you, and he needs to check your mark— if John has claimed you. Dr. Montgomery did say it could happen on the second day. The noises from the room had settled down a few hours ago, and it seemed like a better time than any to check. He opens the door slowly. Your scent is heavy in the air. The whole building smells of honey, sweet strawberries and leather.

He walks in as quietly as he can. You and John are both asleep. You look so peaceful, John’s arms wrapped around you, your back pressed against his chest, the duvet pulled over you both. Kyle can’t tell if you’re knotted but he assumes you are.

He walks over to the pack of water bottles on the floor and takes one out before going over to John and gently shaking him awake. John opens his eyes, squinting for a few seconds before propping himself up in the bed. You moan as he moves, your scent filling Kyle's nose. John’s arm squeezes you closer. Kyle hands him a water bottle and he takes his arm off you to open it, gulping it down.

“How do you feel?” Kyle asks.

“Fine, how’s things out there?” he asks.

“Nothing to report, Johnny and Simon have been keeping themselves busy.”

“What about Shepherd?” he asks, handing the empty bottle back to Kyle.

“He went to Seattle a few hours ago, said he would be back after her heat.”

John sighs. Kyle waits for a few seconds, handing John a protein bar. He doesn't need to worry about getting food into you for the first few days, but Johnny will need to get you to drink later. You shuffle in the bed backing up to John who moans with half the bar in his mouth. His eyes go glossy, Kyle doesn’t have long before John will be out of it again.

“Did you claim her?” he asks. John nods. His hand comes up to the back of your neck and you stur, protesting as John’s fingers touch your neck. He shushes you gently pulling your hair out the way. Kyle wasn’t sure what he was expecting but when he looks all he can see is the indents of teeth in your skin. It’s not red or swollen which is what Dr. Montgomery told him to look out for. John puts your hair back down as you whine.

Kyle needs to leave. He's done his job and he can smell John’s scent getting stronger. John’s shushing you as Kyle leaves, carefully shutting the door as quiet as he can. He’ll update Dr. Montgomery then get some rest. It’ll probably be a few hours before you’ll be active again.

It’s another late night. The rain is heavy and storms have been rolling in. The forecast is looking bleak for the next few days which hasn’t helped with Simon's mood. He hasn’t been able to get out much. Price didn’t leave him much work to do and with Shepherd leaving, he doesn't have any responsibilities. Johnny meets up with him around midday and updates him with how things are going. Then they either hit the gym or the range for a couple of hours.

He can’t tell if the hormone blocker is working, but it doesn’t help that Johnny always smells of you. Strawberries and honey. It gets his heart racing. Johnny doesn’t seem to mind when the sparring session or the range training is cut short by Simon dragging Johnny into whatever room he can find. Bending him over whatever surface he sees, fucking him while he gets drunk on your lingering scent. You’re plaguing his mind.

He misses you more than he thought he would. Maybe it’s because you’re in heat and he swears he can smell you and John from his room on the other side of the base. It’s always the jealousy that gets him, knowing John claimed you and he never had a chance.

The good thing about the sleepless nights is that he knows he can always find Dr. Montgomery working late. She’s always in the lab which is the closest he will get to the barracks. Even then if he stands in the right spot he can smell you. Maybe it’s just his mind playing tricks on him or the fact that his senses seem hypertuned to pick you up, but it’s all he gets.

Tonight is no different, sitting with Dr. Montgomery as she explains something about genetics. He likes listening to her talk, it’s a good distraction, and it makes him feel closer to you in a strange way. He knows she has to keep her distance too. She’s not part of their pack. If John senses her, he’ll get defensive, and he could end up hurting himself or you.

“How are you holding up?” she asks when she’s finished with her explanation.

“Fine,” he lies. She hums. Maybe she can tell, but he doesn’t care and she never presses him about it.

“The first few days are the worst, things will calm down tomorrow,” she says, sighing. It’s been two days already, a long 48 hours.

“Getting much rest? You seem tired,” she states.

“Plenty.”

“Want to talk about it?” she asks. He looks at her. Her expression is soft, her green eyes look darker in the low light. She smiles at him.

“We found Hale,” he says, looking away. She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“When? Ho—Where?” she asks, eyes wide with shock. Simon can smell fear in the air.

“A few days ago. He’s in Seattle,” he says.

“Seattle, that’s—he’s just over an hour away.” She’s stood up now running her hand through her hair. Simon turns to look at her.

“Does she know?”

“No, Price thought it was best to wait until after her heat.”

She sighs sitting back down.

“She’s safe here,” Simon says.

“Is that where General Shepherd is? With Hale?”

“We think so.”

“He could bring him here,” Dr. Montgomery says. There’s a shake in her voice.

“It’s a possibility.” He shrugs. Dr. Montgomery scoffs.

“You’re not very good at putting people at ease,” she says, shaking her head. Simon watches her click through on the computer.

“ What the hell? ” she mutters.

“What?” He looks over at the screen.

“Someone's scrubbed all my files.” She presses something and an error comes up. “What does that mean?”

“You’re not high enough security level,” Simon says, scooting closer to her. “Let me.” He pulls the keyboard over to him entering his log in, but the same error pops up.

“That’s almost all the research you guys got from the bunker. Not to mention all the work we’ve been doing over the past few weeks,” she says, clicking again only for the same error. He pulls the keyboard to him again.

“Don’t tell Price I know this.” He tries logging in with Price’s login. This time a new error pops up.

“Fuckin’ Shepherd.”

“What does that mean?” she asks, looking at it.

“It means we need Shepherd’s permission to see it.” He leans back on the stool.

“How the hell are we supposed to continue with research?” she asks, sounding frustrated.

“Don’t you have a local copy?”

“This is the local copy. Everything is saved into this weird cloud system. It sucks.” She slaps her hand on the desk. “What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” he replies, watching her click away from the error. She closes the tab down.

“Let me check what paperwork we have, at least then we can work on something.” She gets up heading to her office. Simon watches then looks back over at the computer. He logs Price out as Laswell walks into the building.

“I was looking for you on the other side of the base. Kyle said you might be here.” She walks over to him. Dr. Montgomery walks back out of her office with a folder in her hands.

“We need to talk, there’s been a development.” Simon can tell she wants to talk alone. He looks over at Dr. Montgomery as she walks round to her spot next to him.

“What is it?” he asks, not moving.

“General Shepherd's new security detail for Professor Hale.” She hands him a piece of paper. It’s an email. He reads it and a pit forms in his stomach.

“Shadow Company, Graves will get his grubby hands everywhere.” He sighs standing up and handing her the paper back. “When was this sent?”

“Couple of hours ago,” Laswell says.

“What’s Shadow Company?” Dr. Montgomery asks. He turns to look at her, thinking for a second if he should tell her or not.

“Private militia group,” he says, turning back to Laswell.

“Wait, so that means Hale's going to have his own personal army?” Dr. Montgomery asks. He doesn’t answer. This is down to him to sort out.

“Get Gaz and Soap,” he says to Laswell. She nods leaving the room.

“Still think she's safe?” she asks. He turns to look at her, her hands on her hips. He can read the ‘I told you so’ on her face. No, she’s not safe, not any more .

“She’s safe,” he says. She has to be.

Professor Hale pours out two glasses of whisky as he waits for the inevitable knock on his door. Keeping on General Shepherd's good side is the most important thing right now, if he wants any chance of getting into the base.

He brings the glass up to his nose smelling the woody tones letting the strong smell of alcohol calm him. Even though he's expecting it, the knock at the door still makes him jump. He’s been on edge since reluctantly agreeing to work with the government. He still fears they will charge in and put a stop to everything.

“Come in,” he calls. For now he has to trust them. General Shepherd walks in with another man following behind him. They could be the polar opposite of each other, one is old and fat, the other looks fit and young.

“I’m so glad you agreed to meet with me. I didn’t know you were bringing a guest,” he says, offering him the glass. He accepts and Hale motions them both to sit down on the couch.

“This is Commander Phillip Graves. I spoke to you about him on the phone. Hopefully he can help you with your security problem,” Shepherd says, Hale reaches out to shake his hand.

“Of course, I didn’t think the DOD would be so interested in the project.” Hale smiles, pouring another glass.

“We’re not with the DOD. Shadow Company operates as a private militia,” Phillip explains. This is exactly what he needs. A private militia means they’re bought, not sworn, easier to get them to do what he wants. He smiles at Shepherd raising his glass and taking a sip. Shepherd follows him, as Phillip refuses the drink.

“What is the plan then?” Hale asks.

“The CIA are trying to keep knowledge of this project classified. The less people involved the better. I have worked with 141 in the past. I will be able to keep them out of your way while you continue your work. Our main goal is still to get you on the base. The base has been cleared, stripped to only essential personnel. Unfortunately the DOD still have not made a decision on whether or not they want to staff the base with active duty personnel,” Shepherd explains.

“We will be able to provide you with security where you need it as well as being able to accompany you to the base when the time comes,” Phillip explains.

“I am very grateful for that. How do you plan on handling 141?” he asks.

“We’ve crossed paths before, they won’t be a problem,” Phillip says.

“What other news is there from the base? How is the omega?” Hale asks. He needs to know. There is a burning inside him. He needs to know how his omega is.

“She is in heat, from what I understand Captain Price is dealing with that.” Shepherd finishes his drink. Hale can tell he’s awkward about it. He sometimes forgets most people have never been exposed to this world, to his life's work.

“Is he going to claim her?” Hale presses.

“I believe that's the plan.” Shepherd puts his glass down on the coffee table. Anger rises in him and he drinks the rest of the whisky enjoying the way it burns his throat. He was going to claim you. You were supposed to be his omega. The thought of someone else's mark on your neck makes him infuriated.

He grips the glass harder trying to ignore the urge to snap, to give the order now to have Shepherd and Graves rush to the base to take you by force. He calms himself. He can’t go after you alone, not while you’re surrounded by special forces. He has to be smart, play the long game.

“What about the research for a cure?”

“Dr. Montgomery is very adamant on the fact she will be able to find one. We seized her work pending approval from the DOD and whichever medical board it’s being sent to,” Shepherd explains. Good, all the time he can get the better. “Her staff will be given the option to return to work for you as well as full immunity for past transgressions.” Maybe the only good thing that came out of his lab being destroyed is the fact it hid a lot of the things they had done. Definitely made it easier convincing the government to fund his research when the proof of ethics violations had been destroyed.

“Hopefully we will be able to get things moving within the next few days. Until then I am sure you and Commander Graves will have plenty of time to talk,” Shepherd says, getting up as Graves follows him. Hale smiles quickly walking round them.

“I’m sure we will, I have plenty of time to discuss things tomorrow,” Hale says, shaking both their hands.

“Of course. We’ll be in touch and if there is anything you need let us know,” Shepherd says.

“Thank you,” Hale responds, following him to the door. “I’ll keep that in mind, General.” The door closes and he waits to hear Shepherd step away before locking the door. He smiles, walking over to his desk picking up the whisky and a clean glass on the way. He sits down looking across the office, pouring another glass.

He’s getting a private military company. He types the name into the search engine not expecting anything to come up but there it is. Shadow Company, Commander Phillip Graves. Hale is reading the site when his phone rings. He sees the name picking it up.

“How was the meeting with General Shepherd, do you think he can help?” Ashford, his assistant, asks. There’s no time for pleasantries, they won’t have long to talk.

“I think so, we might be able to move quicker than expected,” Hale says, taking a sip of his drink. “How are things on your end?”

“Fine, Dr Montgomery is freaking out about her work being seized. The omega is in heat, Captain Price claimed her.” It's the news he didn’t want to hear but he expected it. He finishes the rest of his glass sighing. This time he lets the anger bubble up inside him.

“Just keep your head down and gather information. Things might be moving quicker than we think.” He swallows the anger, not letting his voice falter.

“Of course sir,” Ashford says before hanging up the phone. This is his chance. With Shepherd on his side, and now a private militia, getting the omega back might be easier than he thinks.

Next Dividers by Plum98 & gild-ui

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 1 year ago

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Midnight Masquerade - Hunter

Chapter Summary: The bottle lands on Hunter, and you get a classic monsterfuck.

Chapter Warnings: minors be gone; werewolf!Hunter x f!reader, kinks: predator/prey + knotting; desired fear, discussion of consent and rules, thrill of the chase, hiding, oral (f receiving), slightly graphic description of werewolf transformation, pain, unprotected PiV sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of cum, breeding kink if you squint and hold it sideways, mentions of blood, one instance of near dub-con (reader says “i can’t” and Hunter says otherwise), some aftercare

Word Count: 4.0k (i'm not even ashamed of this one)

A/N: please please heed the warnings on this one. while there is a discussion of consent at the beginning, once the werewolf appears, there is no more discussion. I will say right now: reader wants everything that happens. the fear reader experiences is akin to the desired fear one gets from going through haunted houses or watching scary movies. it costs nothing to keep on scrolling if you don't think you're the intended audience for this fic.

also yes i'm posting this on the full moon. and yes it's the Hunter's Moon. i planned this >:)

...Hunter.

As the bottle rocks to a halt, you glance up to meet Hunter’s piercing gaze. He’s always been extra perceptive, always had the ability to make you feel like he’s seeing through you, but tonight, with magic coursing through him, his eyes pin you in place. A smirk tilts the corners of his mouth up.

Your breath shudders out of your chest in anticipation as you let your eyes wander over his costume-turned-reality. Ragged lumberjack plaid stretches over his broad shoulders, torn in places to reveal the continuation of his skeleton tattoo. His teeth have sharpened into points, bared in a grin as the smirk on his face widens. Even his hair, usually so neatly held back by his bandana, is fluffier, longer, wilder.

The strobing, dancing lights reflect yellow eyeshine in his gaze, and you shiver. Arousal already begins to pool in your lower belly, molten heat stirring faintly. Hunter’s nostrils flare as he breathes in. The way his eyes flutter lets you know that he can smell you even amidst the press of sweaty bodies, spilled alcohol, and sickly sweet fog. A whimper falls from you, unheard by anyone except him.

Hunter twirls a fresh shot of clear alcohol between his fingers. “Well, mesh’la?”

“U-Um,” you say. The rest of the troopers at the table don’t even bother to hide their smug smirks. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Downing the shot, Hunter slams the glass on the table, shaking his unruly curls out of his face. Then he stands, his broad shoulders and narrow waist drawing your gaze down. Already you catch the hint of a bulge outlined at the apex of his thighs. Your mouth waters, body coming alive with electric desire, and you resist the impulse to squeeze your legs together.

Following his lead, you stand as well. He tucks you against his side and leads you through the crowd. Pressed against him, your senses are flooded with the furnace-like heat he radiates, the unique scent of spice and dirt that fills your nose, the tingling sense of controlled danger where his claw-tipped fingers scratch ever so lightly against your waist. You swallow heavily. Kriff, this is going to be a fun night, and you��re grateful once again to whoever sent you the invite to this party.

To your surprise, Hunter steers you towards the bar. With gentle pressure on your lower back, he guides you to one of the leather stools, but remains standing himself. He leans his forearm on the sticky bartop next to you, his other hand resting on the swell of your thigh.

“Need some more liquid courage, Sarge?” you say with a teasing smile, your words sounding much more cool and collected than you actually feel.

He barks a short laugh. “Hardly. No, I would rather keep this experience between us from start to finish. I...” He trails off, eyes studying your face before drifting down to your body, sitting stiff and wound up before him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “...want you to know what you’re getting into.”

“And what is it that I’m getting into?” you ask. You lean closer to him, so close you can feel his warm breath puffing over your face.

“An experience that requires a few ground rules.”

You nod for him to continue.

“One: when I catch you, don’t run,” he says.

The bottom of your stomach drops out with excitement. “‘When’?”

The grin he gives you is wolfish—there’s no other word for it. His teeth bare in a smile masquerading as a snarl, eyeshine glinting once again. “That’s right.”

“W-What’s rule two?”

“If you change your mind, you fight as hard as you can. And hit the panic button on this comlink.” He slips the small metal device from his jeans pocket and holds it between clawed fingers. “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to stay in control if I transform.”

Gripping the comlink with shaking fingers, you locate the panic button and, with a nod, tuck the device into your pocket. “Rule three?”

Hunter tilts his head, seeming to look through you again. You fidget in your seat until you realize he must be listening to your body—you become intensely aware of the way that your heart hammers against your ribcage, pulse racing, and of the heat scorching through your veins only to pool deep in your core. When he refocuses on your face again, your cunt clenches around nothing at the hungry look in his eyes.

“Rule three,” he echoes, “don’t hold back.”

He tilts your head up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You moan in surprise, body melting with little resistance into his touch. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough that the quick sting sends a jolt of pleasure through you. Resting your palms on his chest, you delight in the way his muscles flex and how he seems to quiver. Like he’s holding himself back, despite his order for you to do the opposite.

You break away with a gasp. Hunter nudges your face to the side and, growling, presses his nose to the pulse point below your jaw. You gasp as he inhales your scent.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” he rasps, his words only meant for you, “you smell good enough to eat.”

You bite your lip to keep your moan contained, still aware of the bartender shooting you a mildly amused look and of the dozens of people around you right now. As if he can sense you holding back—because he probably can—Hunter bites your neck.

“Rule three,” he husks.

“I’ll follow your rules if you follow them, too,” you gasp out. “Don’t you dare hold back, either.”

He pulls back from you, hooded eyes meeting yours. Whatever he searches for in your gaze, he must find, because a slow, predatory grin spreads over his face.

“Deal,” he says. “I’ll give you a head start. And then I’m going to fuck you, wherever I find you. Understood?”

You can’t stop the whine that slips from your throat. “Y-Yes. Understood.”

“Good.” He steadies you as you slide off the stool onto shaky legs. “Now run.”

Your brain is several seconds behind, still stuck on the barely-contained growl in his voice and the way your skin shivers with goosebumps, but your body reacts immediately. Legs pumping, you take off through the crowd. Half-assed apologies tumble from you as you knock into people. You have no idea where you’re running to—you don’t even know how much of a head start he’s giving you. You just know you have to hide. Every instinct in you screams to run, to get to safety, to evade the burning gaze you can feel on your back even as you duck and weave between troopers.

You dash through an open doorway and skid to a halt, chest heaving with adrenaline. Before you lie several choices: a branching hallway filled with doors, an exit dead ahead, or a stairwell climbing up to a second-story exit. Glancing over your shoulder, you don’t see Hunter following yet. Part of you, a depraved, wholly needy part of you, wonders how much you should even try to hide—but an even more depraved part of you urges you to make it a challenge. How long will it take for him to find you if you try?

Mind made up, you take the stairs two at a time and shove against the push-bar so the door swings open. But you don’t step through it. Instead, you let it shut on its own, then you turn and, emboldened by equal parts thrill and desire, you brace your hands on the metal bannister. Heaving yourself up over it, you try to keep as little contact with the railing as possible.

Your stomach lurches as you drop the ten feet to the permacrete flooring. Thankfully, no joints sprain, and you don’t feel any pain in your shins from the impact.

Unharmed and feeling pleased with yourself, you bolt through the ground-floor exit.

Outside, the cool night air kisses your skin and wicks away the sweat that’s already gathered along your forehead. Head turning in either direction, you frantically search for someplace to hide. There’s the crystal forest, sure—but you don’t fancy getting poked with a thousand tiny shards like the ones you walked across when you arrived. You could sneak around the building and run back to the tiny spaceport. But that feels too...predictable. Why run when you can try to hide in plain sight?

To your right, a ladder leads up to the second-floor rooftop. Grabbing onto the cold rungs, you pull yourself up, hands and feet flying. You reach the top and, panting, survey your options.

This rooftop is barren, save for the doorway you assume leads to the stairs you leapt off. But the next building over has several clusters of chairs and tables, tucked into the shadows of a decorative art piece that twists with elegant curves towards the cloud-studded sky.

You go to take a step when an idea strikes you. You rip off your jacket, baring your arms to the chilled air, and drape it over the edge of the rooftop next to the ladder. Maybe the extra body heat, sweat, and scent clinging to the fabric will draw his attention and throw him off?

You slink to the closed doorway, then leap past it. You really have no idea how much of your scent you’re leaving behind, or what clues he’ll use to find you, but leaving as few footprints behind seems like a safe bet. Once you’re past the doorway, you break into a sprint again. The next-door rooftop isn’t too far, and after a relatively easy jump, you stumble toward the table tucked closest to the art piece.

As quickly and quietly as you can, you crawl under the small, square table and arrange the chairs to block your body from view. It’s not perfect, by any means, but it’s the best you can do.

And it’s not a moment too soon. The door on the other rooftop slams open. Hunter’s dark silhouette stalks out. Even from this distance, you can make out the way his head twitches back and forth as he tries to sniff out your trail. Clenching your jaw, you do your best to calm your labored breathing and urge your racing heart to slow. Anticipation trembles in your limbs.

Hunter jogs to the ladder and picks up your discarded jacket. He leans precariously over the edge of the roof, searching, and for a moment you think you’ve won.

The wind shifts.

Cool air sighing past you, you shiver as the sweat dries on your skin. A moment later, Hunter’s head snaps up, and he looks straight at you.

His teeth shine as he bares them in a dangerous smile.

“Oh kriff.”

You gather your feet beneath you before you remember rule one: don’t run. All you can do is sit, frozen and shaking, beneath the would-be safety of the small table. Hunter prowls toward you.

When he makes the jump between rooftops, you whimper, scrabbling backward until your shoulders bump against the swirling art piece, deeper into the shadows. You know it won’t help, but the darkness is comforting. Cold seeps into your bones even as your body alights once more with fresh arousal. Kark, have his shoulders always been so broad?

He comes to a stop directly in front of the table you hide beneath. For a moment, you hold your breath, and the world around you seems to freeze. What is he waiting for?

The table and chairs scatter with a crash as he yanks the furniture away from you.

You yelp, surprised fear thrumming through your veins. Above you, standing tall and imposing, Hunter cocks his head at you. He tosses your jacket in your lap.

“Nice trick,” he says. His voice grates against your skin, causing you to shiver. “Woulda worked if the wind hadn’t changed.” Then he shakes his head. “Well, it woulda worked for a moment. Could smell your cunt all the way over there.”

He lowers until he crouches in front of you. In the faint starlight, his skull tattoo stands in stark relief, a terrifying visage of death. Your lips part as you pant with need.

“Fuck, you have no idea how good you smell,” he murmurs. His dark gaze rakes over your cowering form, his tongue wetting his lips. “C’mere.”

Clawed fingers wrapping around your ankles, he yanks you towards him. You yelp, body stretching flat, and he uses your momentary surprise to tear your pants from you. The fabric yields with a loud rrrrrrip, only to hang in tatters from your waist.

“K-Kriff,” you swear. “Hunter—”

He shushes you gently. “Let me taste you.”

He hooks one claw under the flimsy elastic band of your underwear and, with a sharp tug, the fabric snaps twice against your skin. When he peels back the ruined undergarment, you both groan at the faint, shimmery line of slick that pulls away with it.

Like a man starved, Hunter presses your legs wide open and buries his face in your wet pussy. All concerns about your ruined clothes flee as soon as he licks through your folds. You cry out, pleasure rippling through you as his warm mouth envelopes your center. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you twist the fingers of one hand into his curls, holding his head against you. Your hips rock in pure reaction. Hunter growls, the noise vibrating against your clit. His eyes pierce yours, dark wells of lust and need. Your mouth falls open as you moan. The sounds of your pleasure bounce off the sculpture behind you.

“F-Fuck, Hunter!” you squeal as he sucks on your clit.

He drags his nose through your folds, inhaling your sweet scent. “You’re soaked, mesh’la. Did you like running from me, huh? Liked running from the big bad wolf?”

“Ye-e-e-es!” you keen, throwing your head back as he fucks you with his tongue. Deep in your belly, the molten lava of your desire begins to solidify into something more solid, something that promises bone-melting pleasure.

Overhead, past the art installation, you watch with hazy eyes as the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Steadily, the night grows brighter. Though your upper body remains in shadow, your legs, and with them, Hunter, become bathed in silvery moonlight.

Hunter’s grip on your thighs turns painful. His claws press a little too hard against your soft skin. Wincing, you snap your attention back to where Hunter’s mouth closes around your cunt. A moan punches out of your chest as you watch his eyes blink rapidly, shifting from lust-blown to golden and shining, alight with an intelligence that isn’t quite human.

He shoves himself back from you, stumbling away, his entire body convulsing. “D-Don’t run,” is all he manages to grit out before—

Snap!

You gasp, unable to do anything but watch with wide eyes as Hunter’s body violently contorts and transforms before you. His limbs elongate, knees bending unnaturally, ribs cracking as a new form tears itself out of his skin. Fear and desire chase each other through your body; you don’t know which one you feel most intensely.

With a deep, sonorous howl, the Hunter you know is replaced by a hulking wolven beast. Crouched on two legs, the werewolf pants heavily, staring down at massive, clawed hands. Hunter’s clothes hang off the beast in rags, shredded by the way his body swelled and grew during the transformation. But what strikes you the most is his fur. Dark gray fur, shot through with white streaks, falls in a shaggy coat all across his body. With a jolt you realize the white fur matches exactly the skeleton tattoo Hunter bears—in his wolf form, the tattoo is still humanoid, reflecting the person now trapped within.

“H-Hunter?” you ask, voice shaky and tentative.

The wolf snaps his attention to you. Those bright, intelligent golden eyes lock onto yours as a snarl, animalistic and deep, tears from him, his teeth bared. His snout, rough and ridged, twitches as he scents you. Your legs remain open, slick folds still bared and glistening in the moonlight.

Dropping onto all fours, the werewolf sniffs the air again. Then, quicker than you can fully process, the wolf pounces. His claws dig into your sides as he drags you closer once more, a startled scream tearing from your throat. The sound only seems to encourage him. Growling deep in his chest, Hunter—the werewolf—he lowers his head and licks a stripe up your pussy.

You gasp at the odd sensation. His tongue is long and rough against your sensitive skin, but you find it strangely pleasurable. A shudder runs up your body as the wolf laps at your dripping core; the heat simmering in your lower belly blazes back to life, a raging inferno of need blinding you to the fear of what this wolf really could do to you if he wanted. But you don’t dare move within his grasp.

You fight to keep your hips still as you watch the werewolf lick your cunt. Gasping for breath, you catch sight of something—something thick and red, hanging between his thighs.

A groan claws out of you. “F-Fuck. Hunter, please.”

Whether the werewolf understands you or not, you’re unsure, but he withdraws his mouth, the fur around his lips soaked with your juices. You heave a shuddering gasp as he hooks one large hand under your ass, angling your body. His other hand wraps around his large, throbbing cock. Watching in fascination, you moan as the slim, pointed tip drags through your soaked folds.

“Please,” you whimper. “Please.”

With another low growl, Hunter thrusts into you, burying his thick length to the hilt. You shout, pleasure and pain biting through you in equal measures, as he splits you open. Walls fluttering around the intrusion, you go boneless, forcing yourself to relax.

Hunter sets a brutal, punishing pace. His cock reaches parts of you no one ever has before, stretching you in ways that you’re sure will ruin you for anyone else. High, heady moans tumble from you with every sharp thrust of his hips, your nipples pebbled in the cold night air. One of your hands squeezes the soft flesh of your breasts, the other snaking down between your bodies to circle around your clit. Pleasure spikes within you, orgasm drawing closer as you play with yourself.

“G-Gonna—” You let out a choked moan. “Gonna cum.”

Maybe the wolf does understand you, because he bares his teeth in a terrifying display, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Spit drools onto your heated skin. Gathering some of it on your fingers, you return to your clit to rub frantic circles there.

Hunter adjusts the angle of your hips by a fraction, and you cum with a scream as he drives into that one devastating spot inside you. Back arching off the permacrete ground, your vision whites out as the wolf fucks you through your orgasm. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure crests over you, until you’re sobbing from overstimulation.

Pushing with weak arms on the wolf’s chest, you somehow manage to get him to pull out of you, to give you a moment to catch your breath and recover. The wolf looms over you, panting and drooling. His cock twitches when you reach down to stroke the strange appendage.

“Good boy,” you mutter, leaning up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. On a whim, you reach up to scratch behind one of his ears. The wolf’s eyes slide shut, a pleased hum vibrating in his chest.

Then his instincts seem to kick back in. With a huff, Hunter flips you, his nails scratching across the soft skin of your tummy. Chest pressed to the ground, ass in the air, you whine brokenly as he pushes his length into your tight heat once again. You rock your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, mind melting into incoherency as he fucks against that shattered piece of heaven in your cunt. A second orgasm begins to build in your lower belly, and you desperately chase it, circling your clit once again.

Hunter is getting close as well. His incessant growls are steadily becoming higher, more akin to whines than snarls. His claws dig into your flesh hard enough to break skin; tiny rivulets of blood slide down your front. You don’t care, just so long as he makes you cum again. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as your body winds tighter and tighter, orgasm threatening to pull you under at any moment. In your slick cunt, Hunter’s cock pulses, and seems to bulge.

Then, without warning, he buries himself in you as deep as he can go. You cry out, body shuddering with pleasure as his cock—swelling and knotting—presses against your walls. You cum on his knot like that, squealing in delight, nerves obliterated and frayed as he cums with a howl. Knot pulsing, he paints your insides with ropes of hot cum that just don’t seem to stop. He fills you to the brim, and then some—you can feel his hot spend dripping down your thighs where it leaks out past his cock.

Slowly, Hunter begins to transform back into himself. His fingernails shrink, pulling the tips from your body. His fur dissolves into ash, and now against your back, his sweaty skin sticks to yours where he gasps for air. But his cock remains knotted in your cunt, both of you swollen and sensitive.

You regain the ability to talk before he does. “H-Hunter. Hey. You okay?”

He hums, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades.

“I need a verbal answer,” you say between pants.

“I’m—fuck, I’m good.” He pushes himself off you with shaky arms. But he remains kneeling behind you, locked in your tight walls. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not in any way that I didn’t like,” you say. “Honestly kind of forgot about the panic button. Not that I wanted to use it,” you hurry to add. “That was... I don’t even have the words. ‘Amazing’ doesn’t cut it.”

He chuckles, and the vibrations make you both moan. Your pussy clenches weakly around him. With warm, human fingers, Hunter squeezes the flesh of your ass and rocks you gently back and forth.

“Oh stars,” you breathe. “I can’t, Hunter, it’s too much—”

“You can,” he murmurs. His hands help you move, each gentle thrust loosening the knot still swollen inside you. “You can take it, mesh’la.”

Keening, your hands scrabble for purchase. Fingers wrapping around his wrists where he holds you, you crane your neck to look back at him over your shoulder. His face is sweaty, hair plastered to his skin, and his lips are flushed and swollen. His eyes are half-lidded and still dark with lust. In a word, he looks debauched. When his gaze meets yours, he smirks.

“That’s it,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips. “Just like that.”

You cum again, preening under his praise despite the way your aching body screams for rest. This orgasm is slow, bone-deep and debilitating in its power. But the extra gush of slick is enough to push Hunter out of you. You both groan at the sensation of separating.

“Look at that,” Hunter murmurs. When you glance back again, his eyes are transfixed on your cunt. His cum, all of it, wells up and spills out of your spent pussy. Seemingly without realizing it, he gathers some of the sticky substance and pushes it back into your cunt with his thumb.

You hiss. He withdraws his hands, then tugs you up onto your knees and cradles you to his chest. “You did so well, mesh’la.”

“You, too, Hunter,” you mumble against his skin. For a long while, the pair of you remain there, wrapped in a comforting embrace, until you chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Our clothes are ruined,” you say. “How are we supposed to go anywhere?”

He laughs with you, despite not having an answer. That’s alright, you think, it’s an excuse to get him into one of those rooms downstairs....

Ragu: @the-hexfiles @thorsterstrudle @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @dreamie411 @bobaprint @imarvelatthestars @originalcollectionartistry @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl @jedi-hawkins if your name has a strikethrough, I can't tag you so check your settings! (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

#tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #rhiwrites #midnight masquerade #hallowkink 23 #werewolf smut #werewolf x human #the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader

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sanjisluvbot · 2 years ago

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Isekai Yandere Strawhats x Reader

Masterlist

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

[ Check Masterlist for ch 9-19 ]

Sequel just uploaded 1

Life began to feel so boring. The days blended into one another and suddenly we’re in march. Staying up late catching up on your favorite show because there is nothing better to do right now. One piece was such a breathe of fresh air, full of adventure and characters that seem amazing to be around and explore the world with. You wished to be in the world where u can freely be who you wanted, the world where you weren’t shackled by the burdens of reality.

You’ve been around all the corners of the internet so you know of shifting and astral projection which is exactly what seems to be going on right now. Rewatching episodes leading up to the time skip around 4 in the morning till your eyes flutter shut. Suddenly the wafting scent of the ocean filled your nose. “ Is she a stowaway?” “ How have we just found her we haven’t been on land for over a week now”. You opened your eyes to the snout of a reindeer and other very familiar faces.

You sat up so fast knocking into the poor doctor. Panic set through you because the first assumption anyone would have is that they’re in a dream or— congrats you’ve finally lost your damn mind. “ Who are you people”.

“ We’ve got the same question for you”

“ well I asked first”

The blunt part of a sword was thrust into your face by a very angry green swordsman. Fear etched across your face you give him a once over. Zoro. To your left was Robin and chopper holding his snout on her lap. There should be absolutely no reason that you’re in this world with these wacky 15th century pirates from your goofy anime show. Your voice shakes as you try to convince the green haired man to stop threatening your life.

“ Listen this is surely a misunderstanding, I really don’t understand how I have gotten here and I’m not really too sure who you people are.”

Maybe if they think that I don’t know who they are I can figure out a way to get out of this mess without ruining the story.

“ What is your last memory before you woke up on our ship” a voice from behind spoke. Turning to the left at the top of the stairs was Nami with Sanji following behind her.

“ I was laying in my bed falling asleep and then I woke up here”

After that you were bombarded with questions, what’s your name, your age, if an 8ft skeleton can see your underwear and it nearly drained the life out of you. The sun was now beginning to set after such a long day of being interrogated by the crew you used to watch through a screen. The captain was sitting on the head of the Sunny watching the day fade away when he stretched his arm to you pulling you to sit with him.

It was quiet for a while and nerves began to set in. Does he see through me? I know a lot of people don’t give luffy the credit but he’s way more intelligent than you’d think. “ What is it like where you’re from y/n” he spoke as he turned to face you.

“ Very different.”

“ Tell me about it please”

The sun completely faded into night and the stars littered the sky while you told luffy about “ where you’re from” and he was absolutely entranced by the world he’s never been. You ended up telling Luffy the truth about your origins, somewhat about himself, there was just something so compelling and trusting about him you didn’t think nothing of it. You slept in the girls room next to Nami that night, thinking about the next step and getting home.

Was this really a dream or did your desire to escape mundane life make you shift into this world of unknown.

The next day you went to eat breakfast with the crew and luffy starts spouting all the things you told him the night before. With seemingly no thought behind his words as he swallowed everything on his plate, though his crew members all stopped to stare at you in confusion.

“ I thought you said you weren’t from here?”

“ You said you didn’t know how you got here”

“ Well I wasn’t exactly lying, I really don’t know how or why I’ve been transported into your world. I just didn’t want to scare you or make you think I’m crazy with all of this.”

Over the next few days you were beginning to settle with the crew, you spent hours getting to know everyone and having the most fun you’ve had in years. Nami and Robin were curious about your world and you were more than elated to tell them all the things you enjoyed. The boys liked when you played their silly games, Sanji was obsessed with everything about you and loved having you perched on the counter when he was cooking so you can serve as his taste tester.

Zoro only just began to acknowledge you after finding out you also had a love for drinking, it became really easy to bond with the man. You knew you had to go back but what’s the harm in spending time with such a loving group of people, it’s not everyday someone is given your experience don’t waste it being worried.

You were able to convince Nami to give you a blank sheet of paper where you wrote all the things you knew about shifting and astral projection. You’ve been with the crew over a week now spending every night trying to shift back to your world. Sometimes you feel close others are strangely disturbed by Robin and Nami whether they are sparking up a conversation with you or knocking things over which disturbs your concentration.

The next few days you began to see birds meaning you were finally reaching land, the sabody archipelago. You know the way this arch ends and you need to go home now before you spend two years on an unknown island doing who knows what because YOU aren’t a straw hat and you have no place where you can learn to polish your skills.

The bubbly island became visible and you’d be reaching it by midday, while you were sitting on the head of the Sunny with Luffy again he asked you his million dollar question.

“ Y/n join my crew” he smiled. Your cheeks burned and you had to turn away from the boy whose smile brightened all your days.

“ Luffy I would love to but—”

“ Great- EVERYONE Y/N” you clasped your hand over his mouth.

“ Luffy l can’t join your crew. I have to go home I don’t even belong in this world”

“ Why do you want to leave” sadness dripped from his voice.

“ Yeah, we’ve been having so much fun” the small doctor announced from the deck.

“ It has been very fun I’ll admit but I don’t belong here with you guys. I’ve got a whole life in my world— and a family and just so much to do.” You reasoned.

The rest of the day the crew seemed angry and distant, you simply couldn’t understand why. When they all found out where you really came from they said they would help you get home. During dinner that night you were seated between luffy and Zoro who barley uttered a word while hushed conversations were surrounding the rest of the table. It was insufferable and reminded you of elementary school when someone didn’t want to be your friend anymore and told everyone about it.

“ Luffy are you upset with me? I haven’t done anything wrong”

“ Why do you want to leave? You just joined the crew and were on a new island”

“ I never said I was joining your crew luffy”

“ you know the captain doesn’t take no for an answer y/n” Zoro chuckled.

With a huff you stood up everyone’s eyes landing on you. “ Are you all acting this way because you don’t want me to leave?”

“ Why would we want a crew member to leave us?” Nami’s voice wobbled as tears formed in her eyes. Are they serious? When did u ever agree or tell these people that you were a part of their crew.

“ Listen closely all of you. You have to understand I am not from here, I never joined the straw hats, and I don’t even have any powers I can’t protect myself.”

“ That’s why you have me Y/n-chwaaan”

“ ignore that idiot cook but you have Luffy and I, we wouldn’t let anything happen to you”

“ Who is an idiot you damn moss ball !”

A fight between the cook and the swordsman broke out and you would usually find everything hilarious but…

These people have convinced themselves you are one of them and they don’t want you to leave. You decided tonight will be the night where you will go home with or without their help especially because you already know what’s in store the next day. Laying next to Nami that night waiting for her breathing to even out so you can concentrate with no interruptions you hear soft sobbing.

“ Are you alright Nami..”

“ Y/n I know you want to go back but can you stay a little longer we all care about you and enjoy having you around. We really feel like you’re one of our crew mates”

“ Sure, I’m not missing anything important right now” lying is better than letting this girl cry all night. When her breathing finally evened out you were able to try again.

Eyes fluttering open you were finally in your own bedroom. It was just as you left it, your iPad paused on the intro to one piece and the sun was showing through your curtains.

I really did it.

Life began as usual but you had a newfound appreciation for all the little things that made life worth it. Friends and family found your new outlook pleasant and you finally felt like you turned on a new leaf. While you were getting ready for bed applying all of your creams and oils the Tv in the living room turned on.

Wealth, Fame, Power.

A chill ran through your spine, you haven’t watched the show in over a month in fear of being brought back into that world by some odd chance. Getting up to turn off the tv something in the hallway made a noise. The fear of someone or something being in your house had you clenching on the door knob for dear life.

Just open the door nothing is there you’re only scaring yourself.

Opening the door and walking down the dark hallway into the softly illuminated living room the episode of the strawhats finally meeting up after two years was playing.

“ My favorite arch I should rewatch soon”

“ Why don’t you live it instead?” A voice from behind hissed.

You felt your heart thumping in your ears as you slowly turned to be met with a very angry Captain.

——

Not proofread ! 🫶🏽

I was inspired by a similar stories I’ve seen down the tl hope you enjoyed. Pt 2 coming soon maybe

#straw hat pirates #one piece #one piece x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy x reader #platonic yandere #yandere #Yandere strawhats #yandere one piece #ronoroa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #op nami #nico robin #ussop one piece #black reader #x black fem reader #x black reader

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derangedanomaly · 10 months ago

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Woi!! You're still taking requests, right? If it's okay, can you do any sanses x fem!reader who's kinda like Niffty from hazbin hotel? You know, like obsessed with cleaning, extremely hyper, and a little,,, deranged? [Cute emoji]

Bonus points if reader is short. The chaotic little rat <3

Yes! I love my girl Niffty! I swear, she's so silly. I think that this is a fun request! Thank you! And since you left me to pick out the Sanses, I'll do those that aren't requested much! Thank you for the request!

Masterlist

SANS AUS X READER THAT ACTS LIKE NIFFTY

(Sci, Fresh, Epic, Horror, Ink)

Sci:

Likes having you around, because you clean up his lab 💀

I swear, he tries to clean it up, but he just doesn't have patience and the time for it.

You're a blessing for real.

The thing he's not very happy about, is how hyper you are.. you have too much energy, that you sometimes mess up an experiment of his on accident.

He tried to observe why you're so hyper all the time, but you just kept staring at him, doing absolutely nothing

He got shocked when he realized that you completely took over his normally busy schedule.

Doesn't comment on your height, but he will laugh whenever you're trying to get something that's too high up.

Do you need a lift?

He doesn't know why, or how, but you somehow wormed your way to his heart.. this needs to be figured out!

Fresh:

The first thing he immediately noticed, (besides your height), is that you like to stare. A lot.

He gets a little uncomfortable at your staring... So he will probably just leave while you're having your own staring contest. 💀 (Him?? UNCOMFORTABLE?! The skeleton that makes everyone else uncomfortable??? Well that's a first.)

Laughs whenever you're running around cleaning everything. But when he accidentally mentions that his house is a mess, he'll immediately freeze upon noticing the FATAL mistake he just did. 💀

Shares the same amount of hyper energy as you. Which makes you a pretty good duo. That's rad brah!

I swear, everyone audibly groans whenever they see you two together. They just know that it's gonna be pretty unbearable when you're both involved.

Likes your shortness. Gives him an excuse to hold you. ❤️

Epic:

Lmao this meme master constantly jokes about your height.

Tell the bugs I said hi.💀

Doesn't appreciate whenever you're cleaning because you pay no attention to him! :(

But you're a pretty good motivation if he does say himself. Like, you're always so determined to clean everything you come across! It's a motivation, really.

Doesn't know what to think about your derangement. Kinda creeps him out at times, not gonna lie.

Horror:

Horror is pretty big, so you look like a leaf next to him.

But the difference is, is that Horror is like a cuddly bear towards you, and you're like a menace to society.

It makes him feel warm whenever he finds you cleaning.

After awhile, Horror will probably start to think that you're a married couple. You're cleaning for him, cooking for him (which he helps you out with), hell, you do SO many things for him. (He's just confused with what your relationship is 😭)

He likes how deranged you are. Makes him at ease knowing that you won't freak out when he brings a dead human home.

He keeps saying that you're like his sun. (MY HEART)

Ink:

You're both short asf. So when he makes a comment about you being short, you make one right back.

You're both just stuck in a never ending insult game about your heights. 💀

Doesn't get why you're always cleaning. He doesn't see the point if it's gonna get dirty again anyways.

The only thing he probably likes about you is how hyper you are. (You're matching energies.)

You, Fresh and Ink would be a really dangerous trio 💀

Overall, you both don't really get along. But that's only because Ink is always salty. 🙄

#undertale fandom #sans undertale #undertale #sans x reader #science sans x reader #fresh sans x reader #epic sans x reader #horror sans x reader #ink sans x reader

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silent-stories · 1 year ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 𝟐

Pairing: Eddie x F!Reader

Summary: After moving to Hawkins for a fresh start, you meet a boy with kind, brown eyes who will quickly become a friend and maybe something more. The only problem is: you took something that belongs to him by accident and now you don't know what to do.

Part 1

When your alarm went off the next morning, you nearly fell out of bed.

“Shit.” You muttered to yourself, raising a hand to cover your eyes hit by the sun's rays streaming through the window of your messy bedroom.

As you got out of bed, you suddenly remembered that the night before you had fallen asleep after reading the first sentence written in the notebook that you had found in your bag and that most likely belonged to Eddie.

You found it at the foot of the bed and picked it up, making sure the picture of the unknown woman was still inside it and put it inside the backpack you were going to take to school without really knowing what to do with it.

You grabbed the first pair of ripped jeans you found in the corner and put them on with a random shirt before leaving your room. To do that you stepped over an old art project and a mannequin foot left on the floor, and you mentally promised yourself that if you ever moved again in your life you wouldn't take all that stuff with you. You hoped that you would soon find the will to sort out your things.

“Aren't you having breakfast?” Your aunt asked when she saw you ready to leave the house.

“No, I'm already late. And I promised Eddie we'd meet in the parking lot in front of school.”

“Oh, alright.” She commented with her usual smirk when you talked about Eddie.

“I told you not to look at me with that face!” You yelled at her with a laugh as you left the house.

You crossed the garden and got into your car. “Hey, Casper.” You spoke to the skeleton sitting in the passenger seat as you started driving towards school.

“If you were in my place what would you do, hm?” You asked the inanimate object, “I know that keeping the notebook is not the right choice: it doesn't belong to me. But what can I tell him “hey, I found a notebook where you wrote a lot of personal facts about yourself but don't worry, I know it sounds incredible but I haven't even opened it. I just know it's most likely yours."

You sighed. "It's ridiculous. If I give it back he'll think I read it anyway, won't he? So I can read it anyway, right?"

The only response you got was the sound of bones rattling and hitting each other when you drove over one of the bumps in the road.

You knew they said that curiosity killed the cat but you couldn't help but think that you wanted to read everything written in that notebook.

You parked your car in the first free space you found in front of the school, some students looked at your car with a mixture of surprise and concern, and to your big surprise, you saw Eddie with his arms crossed and his back against what must have been his van talking to Dustin, the boy you had met the previous morning.

Did everyone in that town know each other or was it a coincidence?

Whatever they were chatting about didn't really matter because when you reached them they stopped talking, Eddie looked up and when his eyes met yours, he had a smile on his lips. "Hey stranger." He greeted you.

You wondered if he had that reaction with everyone or if it was something he reserved only for you but you doubted the first option was the right answer, and just thinking about that made you smile the same way.

"Hey."

“Wait, you guys already know each other?” Dustin asked, moving his gaze between you and Eddie.

“Well, I called her a stranger, of course not.” Eddie joked and you rolled your eyes. He was wearing an Iron Maiden t-shirt and the same denim vest as the previous day.

"Yeah, something like that." You said to the kid, "and he promised me a tour of the school. I hope he hasn't forgotten already."

“Oh, how could I?” He brought a hand to his chest pretending that your supposition hurt him, "I have an honor to respect. I made a promise to a fair lady and i need to respect it."

You chuckled. "Then lead the way."

You said a quick "bye" to Dustin before Eddie walked off towards school and you followed him until he suddenly stopped.

"But first I really have to ask you something."

For a moment you thought it was about the notebook, your mouth went dry in a few seconds.

“Where the hell did you find that thing?” He pointed to the skeleton sitting in your car a few feet away from you.

You burst out laughing both for the relief that his question didn't involve his lost item and for the funny way he asked you the question.

"Well, it was my last day of school and I was in my old biology class..."

During the tour, you realized that the jogs must not have liked Eddie very much and the feeling was definitely mutual. The first time a boy in a green and white jacket, identical to the one worn by the guy who tried to steal Dustin's hat, had shouldered Eddie while you were walking down the halls you thought it was an accident. The second time must have been a coincidence. The third time you understood that they were doing it on purpose.

"Don't worry about them, they try to act tough but they're all assholes who like to annoy people like me." You stopped in front of English class, the first one of your day, a sign that the tour was over. From the way he spoke, it almost seemed like he was trying to reassure you even if you didn't need it.

"Like you?"

"Yeah, the freaks."

You tilted your head to the side, studying his expression and trying to figure out if he was serious or joking. "You are not a freak."

"Well, you might be surprised by the rumors going around Hawkings about me." His brown eyes were kind, as always.

"What rumors?"

The bell rang and the students began to enter their respective classrooms.

"Oh, I think you'll find out soon. See you, okay?"

“O-Okay…” You mumbled before Eddie walked away and disappeared into the sea of students.

You sighed, then walked into the classroom and sat at an empty desk at the back.

If he didn't want to talk about his secrets then you would find out on your own.

You opened your backpack and grabbed the little brown notebook.

You started reading as the teacher started talking about an old poem you didn't really care about.

I realized that I almost don't remember her anymore and that's the thing that scares me the most. I don't want to forget her.

She's been gone for years now, and I thought I had a grip on the memories, but they're starting to slip away now and I'm so fucking scared one day I won't remember her at all.

I used to hear her voice in my head, clear as day. Now, it's like tuning into a distant radio station with too much static. I find myself straining to remember the way she'd say my name or the casual "How was your day?" It's fucking frustrating, and it scares me that one day, even those snippets will be probably gone.

I don't wanna forget her.

At night, I close my eyes, trying to summon the feeling of being wrapped up in her arms. It's elusive, and I can't shake the feeling that I'm losing something fundamental. I miss that safe place and it's fucking embarassing.

I'm an adult now and I still miss my mom. Embarassing.

I catch glimpses of her in old photographs, frozen moments that I clutch onto desperately. But even those are starting to feel like stories I've heard rather than moments I've lived.

And it scares me. It scares me because it feels like losing her all over again.

You looked away from the notebook. You closed your eyes for a moment and inhaled air through your nose, the teacher's voice only a backdrop to your thoughts much louder than her words.

What you had read were private things, things you shouldn't have read and yet you couldn't help but continue to do so.

They were things he had probably never talked about to anyone if he felt the need to write them there, it was a vulnerable part of himself that he had decided to hide in that notebook and you were invading it.

The single page you had read had made you want to give the biggest hug to that boy who you had only known for a little more than a day and who was probably way sweeter than he wanted to let others see.

"Shit." You muttered to yourself for the second time that day.

Tags: @jacklesbrainworms @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat @michaelfuckinglangdon @flawiette @needylilgal022 @bubsonnobx @yujyujj @findmeincorneliastreet @kennedy-brooke @witchwolflea

The only good thing: @corrodedseraphine @definitionwanderlust @paleidiot

Okay I'm already losing interest in this series sorry lol if you won't seen an update in years you know why

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x alt!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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a-roguish-gambit · 5 months ago

Text

LONG AWAITED MINI MUTANT BIOLOGY POST

Cause apparently you wanted this!

Gonna get the weird stuff out of the way first. So mini mutants. What are they? Technically, they aren't considered living things. more biological sentient dolls.

This is because by whatever mutant physics defying powers the x gene gives mutants, like for instance allowing a certain mutant to have magnetic control over metals that are not magnetic in the slightest, they don't have a lot of the typical organ systems most creatures need to survive including a proper respiratory system, circulatory system, complete digestive system, or reproductive system.

Their stomachs are basically a giant power source that directly turns things they consume into matter for repairing their bodies and energy. This is why they prefer carb heavy foods as they are largely pure energy and are easy to convert.

They also have lungs but these only seem to provide oxygen fuel directly to the energy conversion source and vocalization ability. They have a functioning nervous, endocrine, and immune system, aswell as a pseudo skeleton, as what makes them up are not tecnically bones but more enamal bone like structures. They also have a fatty muscular system of sorts, but this substance is neither entirely fat tissue or muscle tissue, and is a lot like soft silicone in nature as shown here.

They also have an integumentary system (skin, hair, all that) that is very soft to the touch, a lot like flocking on a plastic toy. The Kurt's are more like velvet and Beast feels like fresh terry cloth.

This all only works because they are beings of Pure radiant mutant energy combined with biological material. They can pack away so much food to fuel their core, sometimes three times their own weight in one day!

But if the energy gets significantly depleted they can become lethargic and exhausted.

And if it's completely depleted or blocked with like a power dampening collar, they will cease to exist.

If one passes on, their form returns to a blank doll form.

They can absorb some mutant radiation from others around them including other mini mutants, leading to cuddle piles

but full sized ones give off more so they like cuddling up with them a bit more.

That all folks for now I think! Hope you enjoyed this!

#romy #gambit x rogue #x men 97 #x men comics #remy lebeau #morph #storm #scott summers #kurt wagner #mod talks #my artwork #mini mutants

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jokeringcutio · 1 year ago

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Halloween requests!!! I've been vibing for pumpkin season since September 1st, so this is fantastic! I can't wait to see what Halloween horrors abound here 😍

Hook (Peter Pan 2003) x female reader

Smut: No preference, so whatever strikes your fancy

Reader is at a Halloween party and somehow ends up in Neverland? Bonus if Hook has something to say about her pirate costume (author's choice if it's in the style of big boxstore tacky, sexy, 'authentic', or what have you 🙃)

If you aren't up for the request, it's all good!

Captain James Hook (imagine Jason Isaac’s Hook) x Reader Rating: T Warnings: Halloween Party, Pirates, Kiss. AN: Hope you enjoy! I am open for Reader insert requests, come at me ya'll.

Halloween Pirate

The night was alive with the laughter and chatter of guests, their costumes creating a colorful sea through which you had to find your way. The Halloween party was in full swing, held within a grand ballroom adorned with cobwebs and flickering candles, casting eerie shadows upon those who danced beneath the crystal chandelier. Macabre decorations of skeletons and bats hung from the walls, pumpkins were found in each corner.

It was a party you couldn’t just attend without an invitation. And a costume. Those who weren’t dressed for the occasion were bluntly sent home. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in your own pirate costume. It was an ode to days long past, with loving attention paid to every detail, ensuring authenticity and capturing the spirit of a swashbuckling adventurer. From your tricorn hat adorned with golden trimmings to the billowing white shirt peeking out from underneath a deep red waistcoat, it was clear that no expense had been spared in the making of the ensemble. Your black pants hugged your hips, tucked into tall leather boots that comfortably encased your feet, perfect for dancing. Or dueling.

"Ahoy, matey!" a friend called out to you, raising their plastic lightsaber in salute. You grinned and returned the gesture, allowing yourself to be swept up in the lively atmosphere.

A fellow pirate approached you, clearly impressed by your attire. "You've really outdone yourself this time," they said admiringly, eyeing the gleaming cutlass hanging at your side.

"Thank you," you replied, your voice filled with warmth and genuine appreciation. "I wanted to make sure it was as authentic as possible."

As you exchanged pleasantries with other party-goers, you couldn't help but feel a certain thrill – a sense that tonight would be one to remember.

You danced a bit with your friends and laughed a lot. But after a while, you felt your mouth turn dry and looked around for the tables with food and drinks on them. Of course, the drink you had set your eyes on was gone. An empty spot glaring at you. There was more in the kitchen, one of the waitresses told you, and so you decided to venture into the kitchen for a drink.

You made your way through the crowd, which was quite the challenge, to find yourself in front of a closed door that should lead to the kitchen. Here you had seen the waiters pass through all evening with fresh snacks and drinks.

But the wooden door was closed.

Weird, you thought. The door wasn’t very big either, smaller than you had thought it had been. Hadn’t there been double doors here? You must have remembered it incorrectly.

Pushing it open with a sense of adventure, you stepped into an opulent chamber that seemed worlds away from the raucous celebrations outside.

"Wow," you breathed, your voice barely audible as you took in the lavish surroundings. The walls were draped in rich tapestries depicting exotic lands and mythical creatures, while the floor was adorned with plush velvet cushions and ornate rugs. An enormous chandelier cast a warm glow across the room, illuminating a magnificent table laden with delectable treats and goblets of sparkling wine.

"Where in the world am I?" you wondered aloud, feeling as if you had somehow been transported to a realm of enchantment and luxury.

As you wandered deeper into the room, your fingers trailing over the smooth marble of a nearby statue, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something strangely familiar about this place, as if you had stumbled upon a forgotten corner of your own imagination.

A large map spread across one of the walls. Curious, you approached it.

Only to realize that this wasn’t a world map. Not the one you were used to, anyway.

There was no Africa, no United States, no Europe. This was no ordinary map. Perhaps something of a fandom, you mused. Perhaps this was part of a storybook or a movie? It depicted a world unlike any you had ever seen before, a place where mermaids swam in crystal clear lagoons and pirates' coves lay hidden among rocky shores.

Absentmindedly, you traced your finger along the coastline of the fantastical island full of detail, more than you would have expected from a fantasy map. The word "Neverland" was emblazoned across the parchment in bold, swirling letters, and your heart skipped a beat as childhood memories of Peter Pan and his Lost Boys came flooding back to you.

"Neverland," you giggled softly, shaking your head. Of course, you knew about that fictional world.

"Ah, so you have heard of our little slice of paradise, haven’t you?" A husky, low voice came from behind you, catching you by surprise. The huskiness sent shivers down your spine. There was something raw about that voice, something that made a warmth spark in the pit of your stomach. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with none other than a man dressed as Captain Hook himself. He didn’t seem familiar, not anyone you’d ever met before. But he looked amazingly in character.

His piercing blue eyes seemed to bore straight into your soul, while his long black hair fell in seductive ringlets around his chiseled, stubble-lined jaw. He was dressed in the finest velvet, his tall hat adorned with soft white feathers that quivered with every movement. A silver hook gleamed menacingly from the stump of his right hand, a testament to both his ruthlessness and cunning.

"Captain Hook," you breathed, entranced by the vision before you. It was as if the infamous pirate captain had leaped straight from the pages of your favorite childhood storybook, brought to life in all his dark and twisted glory. This man’s costume was superb.

"Indeed," he replied with a wicked grin, stepping closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "So you have heard of me?” A pleased hum escaped his lips. “No wonder, since you are here.” He clicked his tongue, brushing the tip past his lips in a pensive gesture while he studied you for a moment.

“And who might you be, my dear? I don’t remember having seen you on my ship before."

You laughed, thinking the man made a funny in-character remark. The room did look like a luxurious cabin on a ship, you thought. And the man himself, he looked astonishingly like the real deal. Or well, like how you had imagined the captain would look like if he had been real. A perfect Halloween outfit, you thought.

“A fellow pirate?” He asked.

"Something like that," you replied coyly, your pulse quickening as his intense gaze roamed over your pirate costume. There was something undeniably alluring about this man.

"Your ensemble is quite remarkable," Hook complimented, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. "One of the finest I've seen in some time."

"Thank you, Captain," you replied with a playful curtsy, enjoying the way his eyes remained fixed on you with a subtle undercurrent of attraction. "I do my best."

"Clearly," he murmured, stepping closer until the scent of leather and sea salt filled your nostrils. His presence was intoxicating, filling you with a heady mixture of excitement and danger, and you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame. "Now tell me, lass—where exactly do you hail from?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" you teased, meeting his intense stare with a mischievous glint in your eye. The game had begun, and you were more than eager to play along.

"Indeed, I would," Hook replied, his tone growing rougher as he sensed your willingness to engage in this dance of wits. "Perhaps I could persuade you to share your secrets, hm?"

"Perhaps," you mused, your heart pounding in your chest at his nearness. "But I think I'd rather keep you guessing for now."

For a moment, the man’s features darkened. As if he was frustrated by your response. Then his lips curled into a wicked smirk. "Very well," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "But remember, a captain always needs to stay informed. About anything,” here he paused and his blue eyes slid down your frame once more, “and everything,” he then added.

"Of course," you whispered, your breath hitching as you felt the weight of his words settle in your chest. Was he implying what you thought he was? Surely not. But then again, his eyes roamed your body and had darkened.

And then, before you could think about it any further, his left hand brushed past yours, and fingers tangled with yours, pulling you along gently but firmly. You followed, trying not to stumble at the sudden movement.

The tension in the air was palpable as Captain Hook led you away from the strange map and into a dimly lit, quiet nook. The atmosphere seemed to shift. You felt your breath hitch as Hook pressed you against the wall, his body effectively trapping yours.

“And right now,” the man whispered in your ear, breath tickling your skin, “I have stumbled upon a stranger dressed in such fine clothes, it makes me suspicious. Can she be a spy?”

Your eyes grew wide, feeling how you were still trapped between his upper body and the wall. The slight pressure was enough to keep you in place and at the same time, the friction created was making your nipples peak. “No, not a spy,” you quickly said, frowning. “I was looking for the kitchen. I never intended to end up…” Here you hesitated and tried to look around the man. Was this an expensive-looking office? Where exactly had you ended up?

"Be a mysterious, lass," he murmured, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. His gaze roamed over your outfit once more, this time lingering on the intricate details that made your pirate attire so authentic. "I must admit, I find myself quite taken with you."

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your eyes away from his piercing blue ones. As Hook's hand began to explore your body, tracing the curves and edges of your clothing, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and excitement. His touch was firm yet gentle, and the contrast between his warm fingers and the cool metal of his hook sent an electric current through your veins.

"Tell me," he said, his breath hot against your ear. "If I were to take off these fine garments of yours, would I find you just as enchanting beneath them?"

His words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat. Was this man serious? Then again, why didn’t you even try so much as to stop him? How come you enjoyed this? He was a stranger!

Hook had always been a figure of mystery and danger in your mind, but never before had you imagined yourself in such an intimate situation with him. And yet, here you were.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" you managed to tease, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a risky game you were playing, but one you couldn't resist.

"Indeed, I would," he growled, his grip tightening on your waist. The pressure of his fingers and the sharp edge of his hook served as a reminder of his dominant nature, and you couldn't help but shudder at the thought of what he might do next.

"Perhaps," you continued, your heart racing in your chest. "But you'll have to earn that privilege, Captain."

Hook's eyes darkened with desire, and you knew you'd successfully stoked the flames of his curiosity. Whether that was a wise decision or not, only time would tell. But for now, you were both caught up in the dangerous dance of attraction, unable to break away from the magnetic pull that kept drawing you closer together.

"Very well," he whispered, his lips brushing against your earlobe. "Tell me a story.”

His request surprised you, his voice low and inviting. A story? About what?

"Alright," you agreed, laughing softly. "Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a girl who found herself at a Halloween party, dressed as a pirate..."

You began to spin a tale that danced between fantasy and reality, weaving together your own experiences with elements from stories you'd grown up with. As you spoke, you couldn't help but notice how intensely Hook was listening to you. His gaze never wavered, and you felt as if he was seeing straight through to your soul.

Feeling bolder, you reached out and let your fingers trace the intricate embroidery of his velvet coat, finding it surprisingly soft beneath your touch. Not the fancy dress material, you noted, but the expensive real deal. Your eyes flickered up to meet his, gauging his reaction. He didn't pull away, instead, his lips curled into a slight smile, encouraging you to continue.

"Go on," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the gentle hum of the party in the distance.

Emboldened by his response, you allowed your hands to wander further, exploring the taut muscles beneath his clothing. The contours of his body sent shivers down your spine, and you found yourself both fascinated and excited by what you discovered. The dangerous undertone to your actions only served to heighten the thrill, making your pulse race wildly in your chest. Whoever this stranger was, he was well-built, making your core pulse hot and wet. You knew you should stop before things got too far, but why stop now when feeling him up was bringing you such pleasure? You deserved a little bit of fun every now and then, didn’t you? And this man was fun. At the very least, he was exactly the type of man you had dreamed of. And he wanted to be touched by you. How often have you had a chance like this?

Hook's breathing grew heavier as your fingertips grazed over his chest, the feeling of desire clearly mutual. His striking blue eyes darkened with lust, locked onto yours as if daring you to push the boundaries even further.

"Interesting," he commented, his voice husky and thick with unspoken need. "But how does your story end?"

"Perhaps it doesn't have to end just yet," you suggested, your voice trembling with anticipation. You were playing with fire, but you couldn’t resist. A tad longer, you thought, just a bit more. Enjoy it as long as it lasts…

You felt your fingers trail down the curve of his shoulder, every inch of him a testament to power and danger. The tension in the air thickened as you brushed against the fabric encasing his arm, your mind racing with the excitement of the unknown. Your heart pounded in your chest, and you couldn't help but wonder if he could feel it too.

"Careful," Hook warned, his voice low and almost playful. "There's more to me than meets the eye."

"Isn't that true for everyone?" you replied, curiosity guiding your hand further down his arm. When your fingertips grazed over something cold and metallic, you hesitated, your pulse quickening.

"Ah, you've found my little secret," he murmured, his eyes darkening as they held your gaze. "Would you like a closer look?"

You nodded, unable to tear your eyes away from the gleam of metal. As he slowly raised his arm, you realized with a start that what you had felt was not a mere ornament or accessory. It was his hook, glistening silver and wickedly sharp.

It was real.

And its presence sent shivers down your spine. Because this was more than just a fancy dress item. This was more than a costume. The hook was attached with expensive-looking leather straps. Too glorious to have been crafted for a Halloween feast. Perhaps he had played the part somewhere else, you wondered. But an eerie feeling settled in the pit of your stomach that there was only one explanation for why this hook looked so real and so sharp.

This man truly had no hand.

And this hook was truly a replacement for it, sturdy and made to last all the wear and tear of ordinary day life.

"Your... your hook..." you stammered, your wide eyes shifting between the deadly weapon and his piercing blue gaze. "It's real."

Hook grinned, a sinister edge to his smile that made your heart race even faster. "Of course, darling," he purred, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I am Captain Hook, after all."

In that instant, the line between fantasy and reality blurred. You were struck by the powerful realization that this man, this pirate, might be more than a man in a costume. He was alive, dangerous, and undeniably captivating.

“You seem surprised,” he murmured, “You weren’t a moment ago. What changed?”

Unable to find words, you stared at him, lips parting and closing like a fish.

"Does it frighten you?" Hook asked, his voice laced with a dark and seductive undertone that made it impossible to look away while he twisted and turned the hook in front of your face. You had no other choice but to watch the cold metal up close, see the sharp tip glisten in the light of the lamps.

You hesitated, but then your eyes met his hypnotic blue ones. A strange sense of resolve washed over you.

"Maybe," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I think... I think I like it."

Hook's grin widened, and for a brief moment, you could have sworn you saw a flash of genuine admiration in his eyes. "Well then," he said softly, as if sealing an unspoken pact between you. "Close your eyes," he instructed, his breath warm against your ear. Obediently, you allowed your eyelids to flutter shut, surrendering yourself to him completely.

And then, suddenly, you felt his lips on yours, soft and insistent, claiming you as his own. The kiss was like nothing you'd ever experienced before, a dizzying blend of passion and tenderness that left you breathless and aching for more. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, losing yourself in the intoxicating taste of him.

As the two of you kissed, warmth spread through you, making your skin tingle. This man was a good kisser, you thought. Too good to be true. Your knees turned to jelly and you were grateful to be wearing such sturdy boots or you might have melted into a puddle.

When at last you broke apart, your chest heaving with the effort of catching your breath, you opened your eyes to find Hook smirking down at you, a wicked gleam in his eye.

"I think I know the ending to your tale,” he whispered, his fingers tracing a delicate pattern along your jawline. "And they lived happily ever after,” a soft whisper that sent goosebumps down your skin.

Then he started to laugh, his grip on you tightening as he pulled you in close. Then he cut off his own laughter by pressing his lips against yours once more in a demanding and sensual kiss that made you see stars.

“I suppose you are mine now,” the captain mumbled once the kiss was broken. “After all, you are on my ship. And you know what they say, finders keepers.”

You wanted to laugh, wanted to say how silly that idea was, even though you felt flattered that he wanted to keep you. But then the wooden door through which you had come opened and a new man appeared. A sailor. Mr. Smee. He looked shocked, probably just as shocked as you. Because behind the sailor you didn’t see the ballroom you had left only minutes ago. Instead, you saw and heard the sloshing sea. Rambunctious pirates walked the deck. Seagulls flew overhead. And the very real and very cool metal hook was now near your throat, lovingly bringing you in for another kiss, when you realized, this was no mere man dressed in a costume to attend a party.

This Captain Hook was real.

~*~

AN: Out of 10, how screwed are you? Or… how much will you screw? . . . if you want to show me some support, why not buy me a virtual drink and help me buy new glasses in real life :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

#captain james hook x reader #james hook fanfiction #captain hook x reader #captain hook x you #Halloween requests #halloween drabbles #Halloween party

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qin-qin16 · 6 months ago

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♡𝅼 WELCOME!

This is my Sans x Reader masterlist, not necessarily with a romantic intention, but it can also be platonic!

✧ What I will write: fluffly, angst, suggestive themes, comfort, poly (various characters x reader), platonic, yandere (not extreme)...

✧ What I will not write: non-con/rape, suicide, bullying/abuse, incest, smut, pregnancy, underage characters with older characters.

CROSS

KILLER

COLOR

He praises you | Perfect boyfriend

DUST

About Dust (1) and (2) | Words are unnecessary with him Movie date! | Gentle and soft | Mean boyfriend

INK

Paint in my soul | Pink like the hearts in his eyes | Kitty Ink | Tiny waist

ERROR

About Error

DREAM

Shattered Dream | His darling

BILL SANS

Let's make a deal

NIGHTMARE SANS

Nightmare relationship headcanons

GENO SANS

Bonding (plus Reaper Sans) | Old dog | Collar

CLASSIC SANS

Soul bonding | The so misterious question...

SELFSHIPPING

I always have hated isekais! | Curly hair

Sweet sweet love

Includes: Cross, Error and Ink Some book troupes with three skeleton boys!

Reconciliation

Includes: Dust and Horror After upsetting you, how can they make amends?

Yapper and Listener

Who is the yapper and who is the listener? PART ONE Includes: Cross, Killer, Ink and Dream PART TWO Includes: Error, Dust and Fresh

They have a cat or a dog behavior?

Which of these Sans resembles the most a cat or a dog personality? Includes: A lot of them.

How do they wipe your tears?

They fell in love with a crying baby and, like the great lovers they are, they should comfort you... but how do they do it? Includes: A lot of them.

#masterlist #undertale #divider by #@anitalenia #and #@h-aewo #Sans x reader #sans x you #sans x yn #utmv x reader

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aka-indulgence · 10 months ago

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Not the End

Thank you @skelliefanatic for commissioning! I liked this idea a lot, contains MF!Sans being a gentleman /w\

(MF!Sans x NB!Reader [Gender Neutral])

Sans was a man of high class. He had to be, considering his occupation, so you aren’t at all too surprised by his choice of dinner location.

The balcony area was a bit of a surprise, however… you hope he isn’t planning anything.

(CW: mentions of unpleasant ex)

—————

You walked through chatter and clinks of silverware on porcelain, grateful for the choice of clothes you wore. The crowd of the massive, five-star restaurant were the high class, in their extravagant outfits. You wore a velvety maroon cloak that draped over your shoulders, a dark grey turtleneck and green bottoms. You combed your hair for this, leaving your locks of curly hair ordered.

As soon as you mentioned the name of the reserved, the hostess almost seemed to panic, standing up, leading you through the tables. You looked around for the dapper skeleton, but you found him nowhere, until the hostess brought you to a door. When she opens it, you’re led to a private balcony sitting, overlooking the city.

You felt your heartbeats grow louder. It was a beautiful space, with mood lighting, a candle, and it overlooked the purple city, with tall skyscrapers and glowing yellow windows. But seating away from everyone else, with only two chairs made you…

“doll!” Sans stood up, flashing his golden grin at you, his face brightening. You have no idea how long he’s been waiting here- you came at the time he told you to come. “thanks, i’ll take it from here,”

The hostess bowed, and almost too quickly says “Of course Mr. Sans, sir,” before making herself scarce and closing the door.

Sans strolls around and gives you a squeeze. It was weird, seeing just what kind of effect the mob boss had on people around him, while to you he was… a friend. A friend who just pulled your seat out for you, because he was nice.

There’s… nothing wrong with sitting with a friend in a balcony seating. Sans had expensive taste, after all.

After looking through the menu and ordering, Sans looked to you.

“you look lovely today, sweetheart.” Sans complimented. Sans complimented you a lot, so this wasn’t out of the ordinary.

“Thanks! Of course I wasn’t going in with a t-shirt and some jeans if we’re going to La Stella.”

The skeleton chuckled. He was always dapper, considering his occupation, but somehow, his apparel seemed more expensive tonight. He wore a tuxedo that seemed to hug his form better, with a red handkerchief in his top pocket. He had a crimson brocade tie with intricate patterns that flickered with the candlelight. His tux also seemed almost iridescent, with how it looked almost black, but where the moonlight hit him, looked mauve.

Sans was actually quite the slob when you knew him personally, wearing stained shirts and throwing his ties on the floor to the point where his brother yelling at him was a constant background noise in his house when you visited.

“Or is this your strategy on roping people into shady deals with you? By charming them?”

“nah, i pretend i’m a demon when i meet them. for you, i’ll be an angel,” Sans cooed sarcastically.

The conversation continued well after your meals arrived. The conversation eased you, reminding you that this was the Sans you knew. Even if everything looked different, from the surroundings to the suit he wore, Sans was still Sans.

“What made you think to eat at such a fancy shmancy place? I thought your favorite food were hotdogs,”

“hey, i’m not a cheapass either, just that i ain’t a picky eater,” He says, after a bite of tagliatelle. “anyways, i gotta repay you someway,”

You looked at him incredulously. “For the cake I baked you the other day?”

“five stars,”

You giggled, noticing the wind that blew through your hair and your cloak. You closed your eyes and took a breath, letting it out with a sigh. It’s not often you get fresh air around here, and you turned your head to beyond the balcony. It was getting later, and there were less lights in tall buildings. It gave the city a warm glow from below, from the street lights and the rabble walking home. You didn’t notice Sans smiling at you, taking you in, until his larger hand presses on top of yours.

He says your name softly.

“you’re… an amazing human. i’m so lucky i know you… your beauty takes my breath away.”

You frowned.

“i was… wonderin’... if i could call you mine.”

His fingers wrapped around yours. Your heart dropped.

No… no not again…

Before you knew it, you yanked your hand away from him like he was fire, pushing back from the table, your knee bumping into the table. Sans eyelights shrink.

No… he’s going to yell at me.

“s-sweetheart?”

“No, Sans, I,” you’re distracted. Your breathing sounds like it’s in your head, and it’s deafening.

You don’t know what the point of standing up was, just that you felt like the world was falling out under you as your knees buckled. Sans catches you before you could fall, and you don’t know if having him hold you was better or not. But you trust Sans.

I’m panicking. But I can’t stop.

At least you weren’t in the main room.

Sans looked around helplessly, carrying you back to your chair, and knelt beside you, keeping his eye level with yours.

“darling, i don’t know what’s going on, i dunno if you’re sick or…”

You sniffled, head pounding. “I-I’m sorry Sans. Please don’t be mad at me, but… I can’t say yes to you. I don’t know if I… not now, at least,”

There’s a pause, and for a moment you thought Sans was upset. But when you looked up, you see a look of relief on his face as he sighed.

“god… you scared me. i thought you hated me, or… havin’ a heart attack or somethin’. is that all?”

You don’t follow. “You’re… not angry?”

Sans chuckled. “well… i ain’t happy about it, but… hell no. why would i be mad at you? you’re more important than anything. you’re not mad about me askin’ you out, right?”

“No.”

“then i’m fine. but… it looks like you aren’t.”

You didn’t respond to that.

“... can i ask you… what’s got you all worked up like this?”

“... Yeah, you can.” You brush a hand on your cheek. “Sorry… I just feel so stupid,”

“you’re not stupid.”

You smile appreciatively at him. “It’s just… I know you’re not him.”

“... him?”

You told him. You told him all about the last time you had a boyfriend. An extravagant spender that you wouldn’t doubt would be part of the group that’d try to kiss up to Sans if they knew each other. You don’t remember how you started to like him, just that by the end you couldn’t handle him anymore- picking apart your outfits, your body, throwing a tantrum every time you didn’t do what he wanted when he wanted you to.

Sans isn’t him. You wouldn’t find so much comfort being around him otherwise, but… he lived a similar life, with the same expensive living. It made you think of unpleasant memories sometimes.

No was a scary word to you.

As you finished explaining, tears involuntarily fell out of your eyes, and you turned away from him.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t your fault,” you told Sans, trying to keep your voice stable.

“... it’s not yours either,”

A gentle hand turns your face back to his, and Sans wiped the tears off your cheek, tucking your hair back.

“shh… it’s ok. it’s ok to cry,” Sans sighed. His brows furrowed, perhaps thinking about your ex, but he shook it off, smiling at you. “it’s not your fault, it never was. of course you’d be afraid of rejecting me, i can imagine,”

He looked away, teeth frowning as he thought. “i’m not angry at you, ok?” He reassured you, “just… angry i couldn’t help sooner. but you don’t gotta worry about me, heh… i’m a big guy, i can handle a lot of things. i’ll wait however long it takes for you to reciprocate.”

You smiled at him, touching his hand and finding comfort at the way he squeezed yours.

“But… what if I never do?” You worried. You like him, and somewhere, you could imagine being a couple with him, but… you aren’t sure.

To that, Sans just shook his head.

“as long as i got you in my life one way or another, i’m happy.”

#commission #commissions #aka writing #gentleman mf!sans is GOOD #we love a patient and caring man

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osleeplessflowero · 9 months ago

Note

if it's ok can you do a Dream x reader with fluff and in it Dream and reader are dating and the reader is fem and a smart, kind and chill Tomboy and they have the soul of kindness and they like to sing while playing guitar.

thank you for your request! ooh, i think i can see what you're going for. i'll do my best!

Request Specifics: Fem Reader

Kindness Soul 💚

A gentle breeze blows in the air. You feel your hair gently sway with it, smiling as you close your eyes to take in the fresh air. You lean against a tree, sitting atop an empty hill with a guitar in your lap, currently playing your favorite song. Humming along to the tune, you get a bit carried away, unaware of footsteps approaching you from behind. Someone kneels down, putting their gloved hands over your eyes with a chuckle.

"Guess who?" He asks, his calm voice easily recognizable to you. You smile, reaching your hands up to touch his gloves gently with your hands.

"Hmmm..is it.. Blue?" You joke, knowing the answer already. He rolls his eyes with a smile.

"Try again." "Ink?" "Ink doesn't wear gloves, silly." "He could wear them. You never know." "That's true..but come on, try again." You gently pull down his hands, turning around to look at your partner.

"Hi, Dream." You grin, unable to stop since he's here. He looks a tad bit surprised at first, before a smile forms on his own face as his adoring eyes meet yours. "Hello, Sunlight."

He walks out from behind you and sits down beside you, relaxing with his hands in his lap. "It's such a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Yeah..it's really nice." You wipe some dirt off your pants, sliding your jacket down since it'd gotten a bit warmer and tie it around your waist.

"Have you been playing? You have your guitar with you." He gestures to it with the hand that's closest to you with a browbone raised. "Yeah, mostly just playing whatever comes to my head. Got any requests?" "Play me your favorite song. Something you really love to play." He raises his arms so his elbows are over his legs, resting his chin between his hands.

You snicker, grabbing your guitar pick. "Yeah, okay. It might not suit your tastes, though."

"I'm not worried about that, if you enjoy it it doesn't matter what I think."

Your face flushes a bit. You avert your eyes from the skeleton, able to see his warm smile out of the corner of your eye. How did you manage to pull this guy? He's so sweet..

Taking a light breath, you begin playing one of your favorite songs, closing your eyes as you sing along to it.

His eyes light up with adoration and wonder as he listens to you, your voice being one he could listen to for hours on end.. Such a beautiful sound, he thinks. Perhaps even his favorite sound..

Positivity practically radiates off of the skeleton, helping you feel a little more confident in your singing with his support. Eventually you finish the song, opening your eyes when you hear his polite applause and seeing that his eyelights have shifted into little hearts.

"You did wonderfully, Sunlight." "..Thanks, Dream." You smile, reaching your hand over to hold his. "I've..been practicing a lot more lately. I'm glad you could hear me..I think I'm doing good." "You certainly are, my dear." He trails his thumb over the back of your hand.

"I'll keep..doing my best. For you, and..maybe a little for me." "That's my girl."

Your face heats up way more at his reply, and Dream can't help but smile..he thinks your reactions are just.. so adorable! His adoration knows no bounds.

Turning to him, you move your guitar aside and shift so you're properly facing him, sitting on your knees and reaching forwards to hold his face in your hands. His cheekbones flush a bright shade of yellow at your touch, the skeleton looking a little surprised. ..He's still smiling, though.

"Hey..um..thanks for..sticking with me all this time. It really means a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me. I'll always be here for you, Sunlight..no matter what. I promise."

"I love you, you dork." "I love you too, my dear." He leans into your hand, unable to break eye contact with you.

You avert your eyes a moment. Now would be the perfect time to try something different, but..would..he want to? Is it the right time yet? Too soon? God, why is this so difficult to ask?

Dream seems to notice your frustration, his browbones knitting together in worry. "What's wrong?"

"Can I kiss you?" You blurt, not meaning to say such a thing so suddenly. He practically jolts, his face flushing much brighter.

"I-I mean we just- we never have before and I feel like this is the perfect time and-"

"Sunlight."

"And I really care about you and I wouldn't wanna make you uncomfortable just because I want to-"

"Sunlight."

"And I really just-"

He slowly leans forwards, placing his hand onto your cheek before pressing a kiss to your lips. It's sweet.. just like him. You feel yourself relax in his hold, losing the tension in your shoulders as you put your trust in him.

A gentle breeze blows through once more, causing your hair to blow in the wind lightly as the two of you savor the moment. You wish this moment could last forever..just you, him, and the scenery..but you really need to breathe-

You break the kiss, taking light breaths as he presses his forehead against yours with a fond look in his eyes.

"That..that was wonderful, Dream.. I liked that very much." "Would you like me to do it again?" He smiles, earning a flustered reaction from you.

"T-..Too soon-"

You hear a chuckle, feeling him wrap his arms around you in a hug.

"As you wish. Sorry, I'm a little starstruck.." He smiles, holding you close and resting his head on your shoulder. "..Me too." You smile a bit yourself, pleased with the evening's events.

Leaning back a bit, you put your hands on his shoulders.

"You wanna go back to my place? We could just..I dunno, hang out somehow. You could make that tea you really like that you're always talking about."

"I'd love to!" He perks up, watching as you stand to grab your guitar and hold out your other hand, helping him up. He doesn't let go as you both walk back to your house, which is pretty close by thankfully.

#sleeplessflower's oneshots #dream sans x reader #dream sans x fem reader #fem reader #request oneshot

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cowboygenesis · 10 months ago

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1: redanian ale | geralt x reader

part 1 of the "wild woman" series: masterlist.

pairing: geralt x reader

chapter warnings: blood, animal death, mild gore

word count: 3.9k

series summary: geralt begrudgingly accepts a monster contract issued to him by a strange girl, thinking it to be an opportunity for some quick coin. nothing goes as planned.

notes: i haven't posted a reader insert since middle school, but since ive been getting into the witcher again recently i thought this would be a fun project :) ill try my best to keep everything canon, but please keep in mind that the reader will be given the default name of 'maja'! if you dislike it, i do encourage the usage of a browser extension like 'word replacer II'. the name isn't too relevant to the story, i just find it a lot easier to write this way (as opposed to 'y/n', (name), etc.) anyway, please enjoy! x

Geralt stepped down the element-worn cobblestone road with a quiet huff, Roach trailing alongside the man’s figure with a seemingly matched sense of fervor.

The homes of the outskirts lined up in tight rows, alternating between maintained and otherwise decrepit wooden skeletons of a once lively hearth. Every stained-glass window emanated a warm light from within, casting onto the solemn sidewalk that led into the main square. Similar structures surrounded the tiled area, adorned with wooden plaques representing various businesses: a butcher, blacksmith, herbalist; something typical of towns on the continent.

It was a chilly afternoon, and the amber treeline of the backdrop was a colorful testament to the arrival of autumn’s harvest. The edge of the cracked pavement carried a lively array of wildflowers, growing sparsely out of the famously fertile earth of the region. It was strange, seeing such an abundant land give birth to such impoverished people. They swarmed the town in a hurry, cloaked in rags and somber faces, occasionally turning to gaze up at the flaxen-haired man with abhorrence, hatred, and curiosity.

Their sunken features flooded the street in the silent mayhem of impotence, weathered muscles bravely carrying the weight of their harvest into the beating heart of the city.

Coarse linen bags lined the trunks of carts for the lucky few being able to afford such transportation, others tried their strength at stacking the burden on their dominant shoulder. A permanent slouch was often a good way to identify the economically wounded. He furrowed his brow at the thought.

The cool air nipped gently at Geralt’s nose, fingers numb as they tightened around the leather horse reigns. His pace quickened, strides bold and purposeful as he spotted the centerpiece of town above the bobbing crowd ahead.

The cobblestone smoothed below his feet, transitioning into a sleek brick that led into the hexagonal center of town. People swarmed out of the tight street and quickly dispersed along various stalls lining the courtyard, allowing Geralt’s lungs to expand with fresh breath once more.

His eyes scanned along the walls, noting the uniform architecture of homes surrounding the plaza. Up ahead, sticking out like a not-so-sore thumb, stood the main attraction of the town. Its broad structure spanned significantly further than any surrounding shop, walls towering high into the third floor.

The off-white plaster was embellished with masterfully painted embroidery: a composition of roosters, red flowers, and various greenery; a traditional kind of adornment in these parts.

Unlike the other businesses, this particular building adorned a shiny, metallic plaque by the heavy-set doorway. It was written in a foreign language, carved into the slate in mechanically-even letters. Geralt approached this unfamiliar sign, fastening Roach to the wooden fencing to the side and leaving her with a soft pat on the muzzle. She neighed in response, a sound debatably considered sentient and acknowledging.

“Won’t be long, girl,” He reassured with a half-smile, adjusting his harness before stepping through the doorway.

The tavern air was drastically different from the outside world, hitting his complexion with a soothing warmth as the soft scent of baked goods and freshly poured ale filled his nostrils. The sensation scored a subtle smile from the witcher, hand swiftly unclasping the twinned holster of his weaponry.

He hummed lowly, scanning the crowd of people in sight: drinking, singing, dancing; warm bodies moving in rhythm to the upbeat ballad of a female bard taking center stage with her polished flute. A song about a lost love, druids, bloodshed. Geralt had recognized it from one of Jaskier’s performances, noting how polarizing the tune sounded with a change of instrument.

He continued walking alongside the wall, finally deciding to take a booth seat near the tinted windows of the northern wall. He propped his equipment against the table, positioning himself closest to the wall. The stained glass poured a soft light onto the scratched surface of his table, outlining every crevice and mug stain with a brilliant azure.

“Welcome to ‘the Manticore’, may I take your order?” Came a quiet voice, somehow bleeding into the chaos of the bustling tavern despite coming from his immediate right. Geralt turned his gaze towards it, eyes met with a pair of rheumy eyes.

A doe.

So was the witcher’s immediate thought at the sight of the skittish-looking servicewoman taking his order.

Her skin looked pallid, almost greyish in the soft light of the candlelight, cheeks pudgy yet somehow betraying her otherwise ghastly appearance. The subtle spread of freckles on her cheeks was the only memory of livelihood in the sunlight, spreading to her temples and ending in a single mole above the girl’s untamed brows. They were thick, straight, and resembling a man’s with how unkempt they appeared.

She held her fists firmly against the dip of her hips and her spine declined forward, giving the woman a folded, relaxed posture; a strange mix of confidence merging with a subtle sense of doubt reflected her apparent social abstinence.

“Redanian ale,” He spoke back, arm extending to rest on the plush couch, gaze wandering.

He first took note of the woman’s boots, how worn the leather seemed with the dried mud still clinging to the nooks and crannies of the laces. Her worn, moss-green blouse shamelessly revealed a perched bosom, held up artificially by the corset hugging her waist snuggly, perhaps uncomfortably.

Finally, he caught the attention of the silver amulet that lay comfortably against the flushed skin of her chest, embellished with a large, iridescent crystal sat in the middle. An opal, maybe a moonstone. It felt out of the ordinary, gleaming with a bright light that seemed to come from within the stone itself.

“You should be wary with that kind of necklace in your ownership,” Geralt warned under his breath, chin dipping to subtly signal towards the girl’s jewelry.

Her eyebrows furrowed at the comment, though her gaze instinctively followed his own. She brought a hand up to toy with the pendant, letting the metal move between her fingertips as if it were her first time seeing it.

“Oh, this old thing?” She questioned, a hint of apprehension lacing her voice as she held up the amulet, “It’s a fake, just a trinket I keep around,”

Despite her reassurance, the witcher’s comment seemed to have fuelled the baseline suspicion a barmaid would hold towards most customers. Simultaneously, she seemed genuinely inquisitive about the man’s opinion, her brow perched high on her forehead.

Her pinky traced along the side of the silver base, running down an array of intricate engravings carved into the metal by hand.

“Looks expensive. Different kinds of folk hang around these parts, you’d know best,” Geralt continued, tone flat yet assertive.

He never once meant to threaten the girl but rather tried offering a kind piece of advice based on his own experiences with such riches. Her prideful display of such an eye-catching jewel could land her in more trouble than she could have expected. His curiosity threw her demeanor off, eyes trailing to her feet. A moment passed without contact, then another.

“That’ll be it, girl,” he hummed, attempting to brush her presence off with a final word to the conversation. She shook her head left to right, almost like exiting a trance, and nodded at him hurriedly. Her nose tinged rouge. She turned heel, boots squeaking as she made her way through the boisterous crowd and back towards the bar.

The man allowed his gaze to linger on the girl until she disappeared into the sea of other bodies, huffing at the comfortable feeling of solitude once again. He let himself sink into the seat below. His eyes turned to study the crevices of the oak table he resided at, keen eyes suddenly focusing on something in the distance.

A raven-haired man sat hunched down at an adjacent booth, head clad in a pristine cloak that clasped off at his chest. The witcher stared back in an unspoken manner of competition, his watchful gaze scanning each visual intricacy the man had to offer. The pigment in his robes was intense and rich, an exotic indigo staining the thick linen, lined with silver thread that connected at the neck with a metallic amulet. It might have been adorned with small studs and jewels, from his position Geralt could not tell for certain.

His pale hands perched atop a leather-bound book surrounded by scattered cards, at least two decks. The fingers were scrawny, bony, wrapped in intricate rings that reflected the same blue light of the stained glass. His eyes bored into Geralt with a certain might, pools of sapphires flickering with candlelight.

They both lingered that way endlessly, both trying to intimidate the other into looking down, a gentle admit of defeat. The man smiled.

“And… there we go,” Came that one quiet voice again, accompanied by the dull tap of a glass mug placed firmly on the table. “Can I get you anything else?” it continued as Geralt made a last-ditch effort to squint at the cloaked man in the back of the room. He seemed satiated by this exchange, quickly returning to shuffling a fresh deck of cards sitting just beside his ale.

“…Hello?” The doe-eyed girl waved her hand to Geralt with a confused look on her sunken face, thick eyebrows furrowing with a twitch of her upper lip.

He turned his gaze towards her, quickly noticing the sudden emptiness around her chest— the amulet was gone. She must have taken his words to heart, or perhaps, more unfortunately, found them to be a kind of veiled threat towards her well-being. The skin of her chest was reddened, maybe hot to the touch.

“You’re a witcher, aren’t you?” She said matter-of-factly. Geralt raised an eyebrow at the sudden inquiry, otherwise maintaining his demeanor. It wasn’t so unusual.

“That’s right,” he replied tactfully, fingers tracing the handle of his mug before gripping it tightly and taking a hefty swig. The alcohol hit his throat with a delicious burn, trailing down the throat and leaving a tinge of plums and spice in its wake.

With a look as infamous as his, Geralt was undeniably used to being spotted out, even in the smallest of hamlets such as Posada. He didn’t mind the musings of others, as most of his encounters happened to be quite harmless and an inconvenience more than anything. He decided to enjoy his drink in peace and allow the girl to ask any questions she might be curious about. If he got lucky, the conversation could score him a new contract; Gods knew that was the kind of excuse he needed to occupy himself for the upcoming days.

“My, my…” The woman whispered, eyes widening a fraction as her fingers began skimming the edge of her apron in contemplation. There was an air of anticipation surrounding her, as if eager to ask about his dangerous lifestyle but abstaining for the fear of rejection. Same old.

“That makes you a frequent traveler, doesn’t it?” She piped up squeakily, clearing her throat after.

“Somewhat,” Geralt replied dryly, aiding his parched tongue with another swig of the drink. Exactly what he ordered, surprisingly. The girl didn’t bother cheating her way out of extra coin.

“And why do you find yourself in Posada, witcher?” the girl questioned, bright-eyed. Her hips twisted towards him, legs shuffling back and gently resting against the frame of the booth opposite to him. Geralt huffed, placing his ale firmly on the oak below. His face remained in its neutrality.

“Not staying long,” he mumbled with a backhand to his upper lip, cleaning the wetness from it with a smooth swipe. He spotted the barmaid’s coy gaze looking down as she swiftly positioned herself on the seat. When she looked up again, their eyes met.

There was a scar on her temple, kissing the hairline of the frizzed locks growing there. It looked well-healed with time, the weathered strip of skin standing out with the raised edges of its pale, pearlescent grove.

“Just for a rest I assume, then?” she smiled softly, the scar curving with the movement of her muscles. Geralt nodded. Her gaze seemed to falter at that but sharpened a mere second later.

“Just a drink, not much else to get done around here,” he spoke lowly, taking a knowing glance around the tavern; townsfolk swarming the bar in rugged clothing, some barefoot, all baring sunken faces. “Seems like it’s not monsters your town needs helping with,” he scoffed.

The barmaid’s eyes followed Geralt’s gaze, but she seemed to refrain from commenting. Her bony fingers clamped into loose fists before dropping to her lap. She moistened her lower lip with a slow flick of the tongue, shoulders rising and falling with each breath. She stayed silent for a moment, contemplative, then suddenly perked up with a furrowed brow.

“We’ve got monsters, witcher,” the girl mumbled. Geralt’s brow twitched at the comment, but he gave her a nod in recognition. She nodded back. “Something’s been killing off the townsfolk in the night when they go foraging,”

“Foraging? Why at night?” he questioned.

“For Mooncaps. They fluoresce in the dark and so are easier to spot that way; we use them for skin salves, tea, that kind of thing,” the girl explained, “They grow in the woods.”

“Mooncaps…” the man acknowledged, “And the foragers, how certain are you that they haven’t just lost their way back?” Geralt pressed on, fingers tensing around the handle of his mug.

“Rescue teams have been sent out before, but they never come back,” the girl said, “Sylvanus was the only one to make it home in one piece. After the fifth expedition, there were no more volunteers left. We didn’t want to risk any more casualties, you know? I grew up there, too. But I don’t dare go back now, not after I’ve heard the rumors,” she continued.

“Sylvanus?” Geralt interrupted, feeling the name out on his tongue. It sounded foreign to the land, but unfamiliar to him personally. The barmaid nodded.

“He’s this witch-hunter from Temeria. Well, that’s what he says, anyway,” she breathed out, eyes squinting, “He’s not from around here, you’d from the things he wears. Nice things, well-fit and expensive. Arrived one night and asked for the largest room we had, room seven. That must’ve been a whole month ago by now,”

Geralt’s eyebrows furrowed, gaze focusing on the table he had been examining beforehand. Nothing. The cloaked figure was gone, leaving behind a vacant table and that deck of cards.

“We’ve got spare rooms, plenty of them. I could arrange one for you if you’d like, maybe a hot bath to go with it,” the barmaid piqued in with the same smile, soft and genuine as her gaze seemed to bore into the witcher’s own eyes. She pursed her lips, anticipating an answer, perhaps one in favor of her declaration.

Geralt used a gloved finger to tap the wooden surface of the table, the rest of his body remaining perfectly still. “I’ll camp out,” he declared, hand raising his mug as the last drops of ale trickled down his throat. He still felt parched.

“As you wish,” the girl nodded, a glint in her eye as she reciprocated with a polite smile. Her arms stretched across the padding of her seat, relaxing her muscles before she swiftly stood up. Her hand grabbed onto the upper rim of the empty mug, removing it from the table with a huff.

“It’s on the house. Thank you for helping out,” she added quietly, smiling.

“Hold your appreciation, girl. I haven’t done anything to earn it just yet,” Geralt replied, earning a soft chuckle from the woman. It was airy and warm. Her half-lidded gaze met his own.

“You’ve offered your kindness, it’s all I could ask for these days,” she replied quaintly, taking a few steps back while her fingers tampered with the iron handle of the mug. She looked down briefly, then back up. Her smile had disappeared. "I'm Maja."

“Geralt,” he responded half-mindedly, out of habit. He assessed the name she had given him carefully, letting it echo in his mind for a second. Maja, just like the personification of mother-earth. He had read about her in a foreign tome previously, or perhaps heard it in a hymn or song.

“Farewell, then, Geralt,” she giggled once more, sounding somewhat bubbly at the reveal. Her smile stretched wider this time, revealing a pair of dimples adorning each flushed cheek with a shallow grove. She nibbled at her bottom lip, breathing in deeply before turning away, yet she held her gaze with his, somewhat determined to keep the witcher’s attention. She whipped around, her overskirt twirling gracefully around her hips before she leaped away. Geralt caught one last glance of her locks before she disappeared into the crowd again.

He breathed out, eyes closed tightly. His meeting with Ciri would have to wait another day while he took care of the monster plaguing this off-road town. He imagined it to be a Noonwraith, maybe a Werewolf in the worst case. It would be dirty work, but quick, and perhaps the town could spare a decent amount of coin for putting an end to their unfortunate endeavors.

The man stood up with a grunt, eyes scanning the crowds of clientele once again. His mind tried focusing on a certain head of raven-black hair amongst the sea of bodies, but his efforts were fruitless. The witch-hunter was gone, or at the very least in hiding… perhaps somewhere nearby. Geralt recalled the barmaid’s testimony, how she confessed they had rented the man a room just a few nights back.

The witcher’s eyes shifted to the broad staircase at the edge of the room, oddly empty and lit dimly by candlelight adorning the wall. He walked over in a few smooth strides, eyes narrowed and focused. He set his boot on the first stair, hearing it creak pathetically under his boot. He climbed another, another, continuing til the very top.

The gleeful tune of the lute sounded muffled and dull at this level, reverberating through the walls and getting eerily distorted in the process. Geralt lurked down the hallway, passing wooden doors adorned with handmade numbers and watching for light seeping through the gap where the planks met the floor.

He stopped suddenly, faced with number ‘7’. His gloved hand reached to grip the doorknob slowly, but with a firm squeeze, he twisted. To his surprise, it was open.

He stepped in, nose catching the vivid aroma of rosemary and myrrh. It carried in the air heavily, a thin stripe of smoke weaving through the air and connecting at the tip of an incense stick sat on a desk to his left. It was messy, clattered with books and one-off documents stained with slim rings of plum and violet.

“There you are,” came a gravely, monotonous sound. Geralt turned to face it, his eyes met with sapphire ones. They were bulbous, almost too large for the socket, threatening to pop out at any moment. The intensity made the witcher stay put. “Geralt of Rivia!” the man exclaimed theatrically, arms extending wide as he made his way from the bedside mirror. Geralt realized he hadn’t noticed the man when he entered.

“And you are?” the witcher asked firmly.

“You know my name,” the man replied, a smile adorning his lips. There was a thick scar running across them, connecting to his right brow.

“Sylvanus, is it?” Geralt replied, deciding to back into the doorway with his backside. Hearing the hinges squeal as they shut, Sylvanus seemed to relax. His mulberry cloak fluttered as he moved closer, head low. The whites of his eyes were glazed, shimmering like tiles of water. “There’s a monster roaming the woods, I’ve been told you know of it,”

“Certainly, yes,” He replied diplomatically, moving soundlessly to take a seat by the cluttered desk. The incense was shriveled now, copper tray piled with ash. “You’d like to know of this beastie? It was relentless. Ghastly and pale and crimson, drenched in innocent blood. Female in appearance and winged, like succubi,” Sylvanus explained, hands flailing wildly as he recalled the creature’s looks. His tone was low. “It is quite a miracle I made it out with all my limbs still intact,” Sylvanus sighed amongst dramatics.

“It seems we’re dealing with a harpy,” Geralt replied with a nod, hands now placed firmly on his hips as he watched the man before him go dark in the face. His eyebrows furrowed, eyes still bulging as he approached in a swift stride. He pointed a long finger at the witcher’s chest, gaze holding his fervently.

“That is no ordinary harpy, witcher,” the man hissed, offended at the mere suggestion of it. “I’ve seen nothing like it. This is no ordinary occurrence, I’ve come to realize…” Sylvanus carried on, retracting his arm that slivered under his cloak like a snake returning to its lair.

“This town, you’ll learn to know, is cursed. Plagued,” he finished slyly, almost hostile in his manner.

Geralt sighed at the man’s warnings, eyeing his lowly figure as it trailed back to the padded armchair by the desk. His snake-like arm slid out once more, thin and splotchy. It grabbed a match, striking it quickly against the table’s surface to illicit a pale flame that he used to light a fresh incense stick with. The room became smokey within seconds, a thin veil of grey dancing in the light breeze of the window open ajar. When he was done, Sylvanus tossed the match to a pile of similarly decrepit ones.

“If you want to know how I survived, well,” he trailed, “the beastie is weak to light. It fears daytime, sunlight, fire… anything that burns,”

“How did you find out?” Geralt questioned,

“Trial and error,” Sylvanus shrugged with a grin, eyes squinting. He slumped into the chair, tossing and turning until he seemed comfortable. “It only comes out on moonless nights, that’s when it goes out to feed,” he added. Geralt nodded, stopping for a beat to let the man continue on his tirade, but there was nothing else he wanted to say. His focus had now shifted to an opened book on the desk, his fingers skimming through the pages feverishly.

Geralt cleared his throat, eyeing the man once more before turning around to leave. “Thanks for the info,”

“Don’t make yourself allies in Posada, Geralt,” a voice called out behind him, deep and dark. “It might just turn on you,”

Geralt halted. He nodded, head tilting but not enough to catch the man’s figure again. The witcher shuffled away silently, shutting the door behind him with a ‘click’ of the hinges. A soft shuffling came from within, cloth rubbing against cloth and stacks of papers being ripped frantically, in a strange hurry. The flaxen-haired man let the commotion unfold without interruption.

He spotted an ornate window peeking outside, his eyes squinting at the bright lights of the colors flickering around the main square. It was getting late, and he would have to make camp soon. His feet stomped down the flight of stairs, faded music coming back in full effect.

He took note of the blonde-headed bard singing her heart out, and the slowly declining yet continuously vast crowd of townsfolk swarming the vivid scene. His gaze trailed to the bar instinctively, hovering over about a dozen heads that he knew instantly didn’t include the one he sought out.

A soft breath escaped his chapped lips, hands swiftly reaching for the cover of his cape’s hood. As the warmth of the tavern slowly faded from his body, Geralt felt his fingers ache in the cold of the night.

#geralt x reader #geralt x you #x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #ao3 #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii #the witcher #my writing #cowboygenesis #smut #eventual smut #slow burn #magic #oneshots #writers on tumblr #ao3 writer

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condoriano-67890 · 1 year ago

Text

The Legend of the Girl with the Golden Silk Hair

Pairing: Sanji x fem! Reader

Summary: The legend is known all over the world of a girl with hair that shines like golden silk. And, one day, Sanji realizes that girl.. is you.

Warnings: None!

You were a Strawhat Pirate, and had been since the beginning. Luffy had snagged you from an island with a cold, and cloudy climate— No, not Drum Island. Some other island. You just accepted it, happy to have some friends. After all, your dream was to travel the world.

Of course, Sanji had taken a liking to you. Everyone thought he was a pervert, so a lot of ladies were scared of him— but you were not. You knew him well enough to trust him to bring you home if you were ever too drunk to come home by yourself. He may be a bit.. creepy, but he wouldn’t dare ever do something to a woman without her consent. He would rather die.

You enjoy how he treated you like royalty. Even though you were an advocate for gender equality… you didn’t mind being treated like royalty every once in a while.

Recently, however, while the Strawhats were on an island, and Sanji was out buying groceries, he overheard some locals talking about a legend.

A legend of a young lady, who had hair so luscious and shiny that it could be mistaken for golden silk. And, for some reason, she only showed up on certain islands, just before a large battle broke out.

Immediately, Sanji was fascinated. “She must be the most beautiful woman in the world!” He gushed, dancing around a bit as you helped him make dinner. You snickered at this, before Sanji looked over. “Oh— not that you’re not one of the most beautiful women in the world, of course!” He smiled at you, which made you laugh harder.

Soon, dinner was ready, and all of the Strawhats came pouring into the dining room, getting their dinner before sitting down.

You absolutely loved the diversity of the crew members. Luffy would pick anyone— no matter if they were a man, a woman, a skeleton, a talking reindeer, a fishman, or even a 10-foot tall cyborg. He didn’t care, and you loved that.

And Sanji’s food was amazing, as usual.

After dinner, you all went back to doing whatever you were doing. You went to go take a bath, before going to bed— you were the kind of person that preferred going to bed early, getting up early.

This time, you woke up just as the sun was rising. You got dressed, and brushed your hair, doing so quietly, as not to wake Nami and Robin. Then you came out to watch the sunrise.

So, you walked out, into the fairly chilly air, before heading over to the railing and staying put, watching the Sun peek up from the horizon, bathing the world in a golden shimmer.

You took a deep breath of the fresh air, enjoying the peace and quiet, before you heard the kitchen door open. Sanji came out, taking a few seconds to notice your presence. When he did, he stopped in his tracks.

“…Y/N—“ he stammered, making you look up at him. “Good morning, Sanji. What is it?” You asked, trying not to laugh at the look of shock on his face.

“Your— your hair!” He exclaimed, coming down the stairs now and approaching you.

“What about my hair? Did I not brush it well enough?” You asked, as Sanji pointed. “It’s golden!”

“Well, yeah, I know that? Everyone knows I’m blonde.”

“No, no, it’s— it’s shining—“

You stared at him for a moment, before you brought a strand of your hair in front of your face to get a good look at it.

It was golden like silk, bathed in the light of the sunrise.

“Woah..” you muttered, staring at it.

“You’re the girl in the legend, Y/N.”

“I suppose I am…”

#one piece #black leg sanji #op sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji #sanji x reader #straw hat sanji #with: sanji #one piece sanji #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader

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hard-core-super-star · 1 year ago

Note

May I please request something for Kate Bishop x reader? Even a part two for your latest Kate fic almost.

Reader hangs up her suit and stops being SpiderWoman after losing May, and both Kate and Yelena can see her starting to spirl. (Maybe Yelena helps her with the anger and grief of losing May.)

i'm all skeleton and melody [K.Bishop]

pairing: kate bishop x parker!reader; (platonic) yelena belova x parker! reader

summary: kate calls for backup when she realizes how underprepared she is to help you deal with your grief over losing may.

warnings: mentions of character death [mainly may but there's a quick natasha mention, i'm sorry]; heavy mentions of grief + references to depression; smaller serving of angst with a huge side of hurt/comfort and yelena being supportive in her own way; kate being a golden retriever gf who doesn't know how to stay

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: can i just say good grief is one of my favorite fics i've written so a request for a part two was a wonderful surprise? i've gotten attached to a lot of my mini-universes but this one is special to me. yelena has a bigger role in this part because i said so :) also, the gif above was my inspiration for one of the scenes and i think it shows lmao. anywho, hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

People always talk about the five stages of grief but what they fail to mention is that grief is a never-ending cycle.

Sometimes you can reach anger and go right back to denial. Or reach acceptance and fall into depression again. Reaching the end just means you’re ready to fall back to the beginning and start fresh once more.

People make it out to be a process, and in many ways, it is, but it’s not an easy one to deal with. Even when you have loving and supportive people by your side.

Sometimes, having those people around can actually make it worse.

Which is how you wound up where you are right now, locked up in your and Kate’s shared bedroom, refusing to get out of bed or even open the door to your kind-eyed girlfriend.

Your guilt about shutting the archer out, literally and emotionally, is overshadowed by the pain that grips your chest every time you breathe. Pain that nothing can take away, not even Kate Bishop.

The truth is, you started slipping the second May died. You tried to hide it, and you honestly succeeded, until it became painfully obvious that you were ignoring the Spidey suit hanging in the back of your closet.

Any time Kate or Yelena asked, you mumbled something about how you were taking a break. It was more than understandable…until said “break” turned into you not eating, not sleeping, and shutting both of them out of your mind and heart.

Yelena handled it the way she handles most things, by silently watching until she found all the signs that told her you really weren’t doing well. Kate, on the other hand, did not handle it as well or as casually as her blonde best friend.

It would have been annoying if you didn’t love her as much as you do. She meant well, there will never be a doubt in your mind about your girlfriend and her clumsy yet good intentions. Her sad looks were more than you could handle, though, and her whispers of encouragement only served to remind you of what you lost.

So, when it became painfully obvious she couldn't help you on her own, she did the only thing she could think of. She called Yelena and begged her to talk you down from the metaphorical ledge you’re on. The one that told you you didn’t deserve to be Spiderwoman anymore, not when you were responsible for the death of the only family you had left.

“y/n!” Your self-deprecating spiral comes to a stop the second you hear Kate’s voice again. “I know you can hear me. Please, babe, just let me in.”

You can hear the tears that cling to her eyes even through the door that separates you. It should be a reminder of how much your girlfriend loves you but in reality, it only furthers the disdain you hold for yourself right now.

The warmth of the blanket you’re hiding under is no replacement for Kate’s strong embrace but you can’t find the strength to get out of bed. It’s not like you’re happy about it but you can’t do much to lift the heavy weight of grief that holds you down.

At least not on your own.

You can barely make out the sound of the archer’s voice but you don’t understand the word she says. Much less who she’s saying them to.

“I just want to help,” she says for the fifth time, earning herself yet another one of Yelena’s eye rolls.

“Yes, I know, you have said that a million times already.”

“I just don’t understand why I can’t go in there with you. She’s my girlfriend.”

“y/n isn’t in a good mental place, Kate Bishop. You will only get hurt.”

“Isn’t that exactly why I should be there? I’m supposed to be the one taking care of her when she’s not doing okay.”

“Put the puppy eyes away, you’re staying outside.”

“Fine…But-”

“No.”

The hushed sound of voices turns into the tell-tale sound of the doorknob being messed with. You assume Kate is attempting to pick the lock again so you merely sigh and turn onto your back, staring at the ceiling and trying to erase May’s face from your mind.

You feel a familiar exhaustion starting to creep in when the bedroom door slams open.

“I thought you said you were going to pick the lock!”

“Do not be a baby about it, Kate Bishop, you’re rich.”

“It was a nice door.”

The ghost of a smile appears on your face at Kate’s complaint but the reaction is more subconscious than anything. It’s almost like your body reacts instantly to your girlfriend even while your mind is struggling to stay afloat.

“Stay.” You miss the glare Yelena throws Kate’s way but the sound of footsteps approaching manages to register in your mind.

Your first instinct is to hide despite how ridiculous of an idea it is. You reach for your blanket and throw it over your face to cover your tired eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

Yelena sighs but makes no attempt to force you to face her. She may act like a jerk sometimes but she cares a lot about you and Kate…mainly you but the archer doesn’t need to know that her playful insults aren’t always completely playful.

“y/n,” the blonde says softly as she sits down next to you. “I do not want to be the one to tell you this but your girlfriend is losing her marbles over you.”

“Yelena!”

The Russian mumbles some curse words you don’t fully understand before continuing. “How do you live with her? She is more annoying than her dog.”

“Don’t bring Lucky into this,” you murmur, deciding only to speak up to protect the loyal dog’s honor.

“I would say I’m sorry but I am not. It’s nice to see you’re still alive.”

You don’t remove your (literal) safety blanket but you feel Yelena’s hand find your own over the fabric. A moment passes before you stick your hand out and allow the blonde to intertwine her fingers with yours.

It’s a wordless action and yet it brings tears to your eyes. You’re not sure how or why but you don’t dare fight against the emotions that gather in your grief-stricken body. “I wish I wasn’t.”

“You don’t mean that,” she replies, no traces of her usual sarcasm in her tone. “You’re just upset.”

The word doesn’t even begin to cover how you feel. It’s like your mind is painfully aware of how alive you are while your body is more than happy decomposing within the four walls of your bedroom.

“Try devastated.”

Yelena either doesn’t understand what you mean or she happily accepts the replacement. “Okay, you’re just devastated. Staying inside isn’t going to bring her back, you know?”

“You’re one to talk,” you mutter despite how harsh your words truly are.

Fortunately, the Russian might be the only person you know who is able to take that harshness in stride. “You’re right, I did awful things when I learned what happened to Natasha. But I didn’t do it for her. I did it for myself. Because I thought it was the only way to cope.”

You take the words for what they are, a reminder that you’re not alone. That you’re not the only person to almost succumb to the powerful anger hidden within the sadness and regret. What happened to May is miles away from what happened to Natasha, though, and somehow the comparison only makes things worse.

“It’s my fault she’s dead.” All the tears you had been holding back finally fall, forcing you to accept the reality you’ve been trying to escape from all these days. “I got my mom killed.”

“Don’t say that. You don’t know that-”

“Of course, I know that.” You use your free hand to pull the blanket down and finally face Yelena’s affectionate gaze. “Who else is to blame if it’s not me?”

“Try the homicidal maniac with a glider.”

Yelena groans and the familiarity of the scene helps to ease some of your pain. “What happened to staying outside, Kate Bishop?”

“y/n needs me.”

The words are simple in nature and they’re nothing you haven’t heard before but the reaction they bring out of you isn’t one you’re used to.

Thankfully, Kate crosses the space between you without you having to say anything.

Yelena tries to move away but you tighten your grip on her hand before she can get too far. She rolls her eyes at you but accepts the silent request, choosing to remain seated by your side while Kate literally climbs on top of you.

“You guys are strange.”

You’re too focused on the relief of having your girlfriend’s body back on top of you to argue back.

The archer lazily wraps an arm around your middle while her head rests on top of your shoulder so she’s able to glare at her best friend. They only last a few seconds before they start arguing about something so you close your eyes and let the sound of their voices drown out the memories that threaten to come back.

“Hey.” Kate’s voice is a mere whisper against your tear-stained cheeks. “I love you.”

You don’t have to open your eyes to be able to see the sincerity she exudues with every breath she takes and every look she gives you.

“I love you too.”

It’s not nearly enough to get rid of all your pain but it’s enough to remind you what you’re fighting for every day. You’re fighting for the ones you love. Even the ones you’ve lost.

And maybe fighting won't bring them back but you don't need to. Being with the ones you have left is more than enough for you.

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