#i have no idea how normal people converse anymore
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the problem is that, because of this website, my default way of saying that something is cool or good now is “it fucks massively,” which is NOT something i can say out loud with my mouth in the majority of situations!!!!
#it’s SO good tho…#truly the highest compliment i could ever imagine paying to anything#i have no idea how normal people converse anymore
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I think the thing that gets me the most heated is that cis men are some of the most vile and despicable creatures on the planet.
I get that they're socialized that way. I do. I get that they suffer from the patriarchy.
But then WE as trans men, have to pay for their sins, basically.
It seems to me that we're supposed to be "more evolved" versions of men..
But it's unfortunate that we're "weird" because we're trans. We're not cis. We have trauma and trust issues etc because of our experiences before and after T.
People treat us like shit for being men, for being trans men, for being human beings with our own desires and faults etc
Then fetishize us.
I'm a straight trans man. I have ZERO luck with women.
There are so many shit stain shaped cis men I know that have friends and families, and lovers etc .. just because they're "normal".
Yet people around them constantly complain about how shitty they are.
Abuse and manipulation are so normalized that people want to begin and stay in relationships with actually fucked up people.
Meanwhile the most marginalized, the most traumatized, and the most outcast are looked down on for simply existing. And they're some of the most beautiful and understanding people you'd ever meet.
the reason a lot of transmascs experience some level of regret/depression after medical transitioning is, imo, the exact reverse of the reason TERFs think we transition in the first place.
TERF beliefs are generally that transmascs dysphoria is actually a natural uncomfortableness with how misogynistic society defines women, and that our transition is an attempt to conform to the idea that being nonfeminine means you aren't a "real" woman, instead of realizing that we only hate ourselves because society tells us women like us shouldn't exist, and actually radical feminism is the real liberation.
but for example: when i first starting on T, every change was 100% pure joy. i was so ecstatic, everything was amazing and wonderful. i truly loved everything.
but then the longer I was on it, the more transandrophobia I encountered because I was on T. I started feeling more and more ashamed of having hair on my arms, my thin facial hair, my "tranny voice". Things that made me really excited before starting making me a little bit uncomfortable because of how society treated it. It was literally like Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria but exactly the opposite.
Now this wasn't and isn't as strong as the gender euphoria T has brought me, and it hasn't caused me a lot of real "oh no do I regret this" distress because I have been able to immediately recognize that I am only uncomfortable because of how people started treating me differently. But especially for transmascs without support systems, without understanding our own internalized transphobia, can very easily feel a lot of trauma associated with transitioning because of the way that society treats trans men. when every change of your body is met with mockery and scorn and disgust, its natural to get affected.
and this is why its so fucked up when other trans people share stuff about how "soo many trans men are gonna regret T because they're all stupid little girls who think T is gonna make them sexy yaoi boys, since they all have no idea what it's like to really be men and just fetishize gayness!" because you are literally the reason. People mock and shame trans men, they make spaces hostile for anyone with a testosterone-dominant body, they act hostile to trans men and our experiences constantly. and then when trans men internalize that disgust and blame ourselves for how other people treat us because of our transition, those same people turn around and use that as a way to further mock us.
#m.#transandrophobia#trans man#transmasc#straight trans man#trans man of color#i went left with this#because i am reminded of how full of shit people are on a daily basis#people dont want to heal#they want to be enabled#they want to be special and feel special#but people who are truly different are left without understanding support#love friendships and relationships are more difficult for me personally#people find out im trans and they have all these stupid ideas#about me about how i should be#i like having a pussy and am straight#people treat me like a curiosity#not a person#then theyre all surprised when i have emotions#im autistic and have cptsd from the shit i have been through#so tired of people tbh#dont even know how to start a conversation on dating sites anymore#normal people are weird in the bad way
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New City, New Life
5k celebration ‘Choose your own adventure’ story
Orc x fem!reader— cum eating, dry humping, fingering, voyeurism, rough sex, clitoral stimulation
Pt1
“Hey neighbor, I was just talking about you,” your hot Wolf Hybrid neighbor says as you walk over to his little group hanging out in his driveway.
His Orc, Naga, and Wolf friends all flash you a knowing smirk, their varying fangs glimmering sends a heat in your belly before you quickly stop yourself. You had to tone your horny ass self down. You didn’t wanna make a bad impression on a new city of people by being desperate for everyone’s cocks. You didn’t think that would fly here. As they stare your cheeks begin to heat up in a way you know is noticeable.
“Mentioned how I wanted to bring over a cup of coffee I made you,” he adds as if sensing your thoughts and trying to reassure you.
So he wasn’t going around talking about you to all his friends? Something tells you that’s not exactly true as his eyes gleam with arousal. You imagine it as you take the cup of coffee from his hands. Your hot neighbor sitting around with his equally hot friends, going over every little dirty detail. Raving about how good your tight cunt felt around his thick cock. All of them growing hard as he recounted the noises you made and how desperate you were to be filled while imagining it was them with you instead.
A choked whimper escapes you that you quickly try and hide beneath a pleased hum. You try your best to look casual as you subtly rub your thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction. But you’re briefly brought back to reality as your hot neighbor hands you the mug of coffee.
“Thank you for this, but—“ you say as you bring the mug to your lips only for your neighbor to brush a clawed finger along the edge of the cup and tilt it up, forcing you to take long gulps of the nicely warm drink. You meet his burning gaze, unable to look away, the tension simmering between you. And in front of all his friends. Fuck you can feel how wet you’re getting.
When he finally removes his finger you lower the cup with only a bit less than half left. Your mouth smacks as the taste bursts across your tongue. It was bitter as you expected coffee to be but also a bit sweet and… salty? It was certainly creamier than you expected it to be. You liked it. Probably more than you liked whatever blend you usually get. You’ll have to ask what his special ingredient is later.
“Thank you again but I was wondering if you guys could give me a ride? I’m in a really tough spot and I just need someone to get me going,” you say, voice strangely huskier than normal.
You clear your throat, glancing away, and look back up to all four of these damn fine men staring down at you as if they’re about to pounce. Your pussy flutters, clamping down around nothing at the thought of them actually doing just that. Their claws digging into your plush form, fangs grazing your sensitive skin, their big tongues ravaging your body to prepare you for their giant cocks.
“Work that is,” you add, voice growing husky all over again.
Your Wolf Hybrid neighbor chuckles darkly, the sound shooting right down to your core. He glances at his friends and a silent conversation passes between them. Then all of them are moving toward the car as if suddenly eager to get in.
“C’mon, sweetheart. We’re headed to work ourselves but we’ll get you off. Who are we to deny someone as cute as you?” He says smoothly, his raspy voice making that sound much more suggestive than you think he meant to.
Your hot neighbor rounds the car, taking the drivers seat. While his Wolf Hybrid friend quickly takes passenger. As if he didn’t want you getting to it first.
“You’ll have to ride in my lap though,” His Orc friend immediately says with a smirk as he hops in the backseat of the car. You follow after him, not wanting anymore seats taken from you.
“And why would I do that?” You ask, not wanting him to know how much you like the idea.
Just as you’re about to sit in the middle seat instead, the Orc’s giant hands are gripping your waist and plopping you down in his lap. Before you can argue or pretend to complain, the Naga gets in last and he curls half his long rattling tail into the middle seat while the rest takes up the remaining one.
“There’sss no more room,” the Naga says, forked tongue slipping out as he speaks and a second later his eyes dilate.
You blush, knowing he can probably taste your arousal in the air. In fact, they all probably can. The realization has you blushing deeper and growing wetter on the hot Orc. Especially as the Orc tugs you closer to his chest and you can feel the distinct bulge of his half-erect cock pressing deliciously along your clothed slit.
Hot neighbor starts on his way and you share your new place of work with them. They’ll know exactly where you are now nearly every day. It sends a strange thrill through you. Wolf Hybrid neighbor tells you that it’s on the way to their place so they’ll drop you off first but that it might take a little longer. They usually like to down the back roads.
You find that you don’t mind as you’re a lot more than just comfortable sitting in the hot Orc’s lap. That is until they actually start driving down the back roads and their… bumpy terrain.
A small grunt escapes you, eyes widening as the car starts rocking. Each jolt of the car has the Orc’s hardening length rubbing right up against your pussy. Your throat tightens as you try and choke down your moans. The Orc feels huge and he’s rubbing over every inch of your cunt. You swear you feel him rocking in sync with the rock. But what would be crazy.
Small talk fills the car and you’re grateful no one seems to be able to notice your inner torment. Small whines leave you as you practically bounce on the Orc’s clothed dick. It sends shocks through your system and you quickly grow more and more needy. The need to be filled and stuffed full itching at your skin.
“I think you’re wet enough f’me now, sweetheart. My patience grows thin. Fuckin’ need to get inside ya,” the Orc says, breaking you out of your lustful daze. It’s only then you register his panting breaths and the way everyone’s eyes shift toward you in the car.
“W-what?”
You yelp as the Orc jerks off your slacks and panties in one swift move and hooks your legs over each of his knees, spreading you wide for the whole car to see. Your glistening folds spasm as they’re exposed to the cold air.
Thoughts run through your head at a mile a minute. You should want to stop this. To scramble off this sexy Orc’s lap. But you only get more turned on, your arousal gushing out of you at the thought of him so suddenly taking you.
“Don’t act like you haven’t been wantin’ to fuck me since your fine ass walked over. That’s how this place works, right?” The Orc asks, almost mockingly.
His words wash over you, clouding your mind, as his hands explore your body. Slightly clawed fingers trail down and dip into your soaked folds. A low moan leaves you and instead of trying to get away you melt back into his chest, hips rolling with the movement of his fingers. He takes the time to prep you for his length and it slowly has you becoming an absolute mess in his lap. And you haven’t even had his cock yet.
You suck in a sharp breath as the hot Orc’s fingers leave you only to replace them with his thick angry tip. His pre-cum creating an even bigger mess of you. Your mind threatens to gain clarity again but then the Orc is pushing you down and splitting you open on his cock.
“Nngh! Ooh… Oh fuck,” you cry out, throwing your head back. The stretch of his girth forcing your gummy walls to accommodate him has your eyes rolling back. The deeper he goes the more you swear you’ve never been filled this good in your life.
The fact that you’re in a car full of men shifts back to the front of your mind and you lift your head to see them all still watching you with a fierce intensity.
Your hot neighbor continues to drive but you notice the way his eyes keep flicking back to you in the mirror. While his Wolf Hybrid and Naga friends each have all their cocks out, languidly stroking them to the sight of you stretched pretty on their friend’s cock. You whimper, basking in the attention, and a second later the Orc starts slamming you down on his massive cock.
“Fuck, dude, you were right. What a perfect pussy. They’re drenched f’me, just slipped right in. So warm and tight. Poor thing won’t get a moments rest in this place,” the Orc huffs and the car erupts into soft breathless laughter.
Aha! You knew your hot neighbor had talked about you with them. The praise is all you focus on and it has your walls squeezing the Orc’s length, wanting to make him go mad. A low growl vibrates from his chest to your back as he feels you get even tighter. His claws sink into your hips as he starts using his grip to fuck his cock up into you at a bruising pace. His thrusts syncing up perfectly with the rocky jostling of the car that only seems to be getting worse.
You cry out as the car’s movements also deepens the Orc’s momentum. You swear you can feel his dick all the way up in your throat. He’s stuffing you so full of him you don’t know if you can take it. You arch back into the Orc, putting on a show for him and everyone in the car. Through hooded eyes you watch as they furiously pump themselves to the sight of your body. It gets you so fucking hot. Their lustful eyes raking over your form. All of them wanting a piece of you, all of them jealous of the one who gets to fuck you.
The Naga flicks out his tail, the rattle on its tip moves in between your legs, wanting to do anything he can to give you more pleasure. You wait with bated breath and shriek as he rattles his tail, the vibration sending sparks throughout your body. The Orc snarls in your ear and picks up pace, jerking up his hips and meeting your thrusts in a way that has your toes curling.
“How do they look?” Your hot neighbor growls, knuckles white on the steering wheel, and sounding borderline feral. His cock aching against his slacks.
“They look so fucking sexy, man. Their tight pussy can barely take him,” His Wolf Hybrid friend moans, his hips twitching as he jerks himself off even harder.
“But they’re doing ssso well. Pretty thing will be ruined for anyone else,” the Naga adds, roughly rattling his tail against your clit. He thrusts up into each of his hands that pump at both of his dicks. You mewl, vision blurring at the intensity that wracks through you.
“Fuck, I think they’re about to cum!” One of them shouts but you’re too lost in the haze of pleasure to focus on which one it is. But then the Orc’s hot breath is curling around your ear and your mind clears enough to hear his rumbling voice.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuckin’ let go and cum on my cock. Squeeze the damn life out of me, you can do it.”
The cord snaps and jaw drops, fierce screams echo throughout the car as you explode all over his cock. Waves of ecstasy wash over you and you try your best not to pass out. The sight of you coming is a vision of pure art and none of the other men can hold on much longer.
The Naga lets go first, shooting his cum over any inch of bare skin he can reach. The Wolf Hybrid is close to follow in his friend’s footsteps as he cums all over you two. Seeing you all wrecked and messy quickly has the Orc slamming into you, burying himself to the hilt and shooting spurt after spurt of his cum deep inside you.
“Such a pretty slut you are, sweetheart. So easily made a mess from our cocks. You’re perfect,” the Orc rasps in your ear and you preen under his praise.
The rest of the car ride is spent with the monsters cleaning you up as you lay limply in the Orc’s lap. You take the time to regain your strength and you hope you’ll be able to feel your legs enough to walk into work.
When you arrive your hot neighbor gets out and greets you as the door opens. He helps you out and you immediately melt into his embrace. Your Wolf Hybrid neighbor laughs, leaning down and kissing the crown of your head.
“Next time, darling. Now get into work,” he murmurs intimately in your ear. Giving your butt a nudging pat.
As you walk in on wobbly legs, you glance around the lobby, looking for the headhunter that recruited you. He was meant to meet you and show you the ropes of the job. But he isn’t anywhere to be seen and you wonder what you’ll do next. You could ask the Demon Guard by the door where you could find him, head down the closest hall and hope you find the headhunter down one of the rooms, or you could head to your Minotaur Boss’ office and hope he can show you around.
#monster fucker#monster smut#monster lover#monster lust#exophelia#teratophillia#monster fluff#monster romance#monster fic#monster imagine#monster bf#monster boyfriend#orc smut#orc fucker#orc lover#orc imagines#orc imagine#orc romance#orc boyfriend#orc#naga smut#wolf hybrid#werewolf smut#orc x reader#orc x human#orc x you#monster x reader#monster x human#monster x fem!reader#monster x y/n
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One thing I don't think I've ever seen talked about is how post-apocalypse ideation is largely about homelessness.
Homelessness looms large in the American consciousness. Like, not that it's irrelevant elsewhere, but it's got a particular cultural place in the US that's reflected in Hollywood, and therefore relevant because what makes it into film and TV sets the terms of so many conversations.
We don't acknowledge it if we can help it, but I think most people know they're never more than a few very bad months from winding up there.
Even people who are sure it only happens to people who deserve it, who fuck up and put one foot in the morass of their own foolish volition. Even they know the quicksand is there, waiting to be walked into, and that the odds are stacked against ever climbing out on your own once you have. And that they, too, are capable of fucking up. Of trusting the wrong person. Of getting cancer incorrectly.
And those of us who know damn well we can't be sure we're safe even if we do everything right, we know it even better.
And in that sense it doesn't matter what the world would realistically look like after X kind of apocalypse, what people would do, how society would adapt. Because the anxiety that's being processed is about the reality that's in existence now.
About what if my world ends. And I lose access to the fruits of developed society, to clean clothes and new glasses and running water, to a safe place to sleep where I don't expect to be killed or robbed, or driven out by men with guns and dogs. To my home and work and family and everything I usually use to tell me who I am.
What if every man's hand is against me, and every meal is a small victory, and there's only my own dwindling strength between me and the long night?
Will I make it? Will I hold up under the strain? Will I retain my dignity? Will I be lucky? Will I be able to protect the people I love, in that world, the world where no one is protecting us anymore?
Is there a way to continue to live as a human person, when you're denied the prerogatives of one, and don't know if you'll ever get them back?
Putting this anxiety into the context of a massive apocalypse divorces this scenario from the burden of shame tied up in the idea of winding up in that sort of situation in the normal course of events, by having society vanish rather than expel you, personally, as a washout, and continue on around you.
It also allows you to rule out a priori the question of what resources might be offered but can't in an anticipatory context be counted on; shelters and programs and housed friends and family who may or may not help. And narrow the narrative to only the question of what you can survive, and often a fairy tale about surviving all of it and starting over.
Rehearsing for a loss in a mythologized format is a very normal anxiety processing behavior, and I think a lot of apocalypse scenario building is attached to the buried dread of that personal apocalypse. But I haven't seen that one make the list.
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toxic boys x ethreal!stunning!reader
Like shes SO pretty that everyone has a crush on her,attention is always on her,shes just beautiful and the face of Hogwarts
Slytherin Boys – Their partner is the face of Hogwarts
Warning: Toxic boys! Not proofread as always.
Mattheo …
… is honestly torn between loving and hating it. He was obsessed in love with your beauty, and he basked in the envious glares thrown his way for being your boyfriend, but he also absolutely hated the idea that other people probably got off on you.
… wants to hide you from the world sometimes – when he is feeling low or whenever something triggers his jealousy, which obviously happens way too often to be considered healthy anymore.
… would try to make you wear modest clothing and constantly told you that you did not need any make-up or whatever else you used to enhance your beauty.
… would be more aggressive with you admirers behind your back – it got worse the deeper he felt for you.
… can be mean to you, whenever you don’t agree with him and stubbornly insist to dress up.
“Babe, you are beautiful the way you are. There is no need for all of that – or are you so desperate for attention?”
Theodore …
… is cocky because he finally found his equal. He knew that all the girls were in love with him and that even some boys’ eye lingered on him for longer than necessary, so it was normal for him to have the prettiest partner – right? Right. At least until you outshone even him.
… would clench his jaw whenever the two of you were stopped by some pathetic male asking you for something – anything. A scoff leaving his lips whenever you agreed to help with whatever problem – cause, how dare you? You were just too sweet for your own good.
… screamed internally, whenever you cancelled your plans with him, because a fourth year desperately needed tutoring. His mood ruined for the day. His anger would find its peak when he would see you in Hogsmeade with that student.
… would be annoyed by you at some point. The less people saw him the more he actually started to dislike you.
“They are just using you because you are so gullible. It’s annoying really.”
Lorenzo …
… immediately hates the attention – he should be the only one to look at you with those eyes and the thought of half of the school staring at you lovestruck made his skin crawl with badly contained anger.
… would go out of his way to draw the people’s attention to himself instead. If that didn’t work, he’d just start claiming you publicly: kissing you in the corridors whenever no professor was around, leaving hickeys in obvious places and always having an arm wrapped around your waist possessively.
… his patience snaps if one of his boys actually shows interest in you.
“Love, come here … let’s skip that double-date … you wouldn’t even like my friend – he’s an ass.”
Draco …
… wears you on his arm like a rolex Daytona.
… every compliment directed at you fed his own ego.
… bought you designer clothes and expensive jewelry to make you stand out even more – honestly, he would treat his partner like a dress up doll.
… would hate it if you were to pay attention to any of your admirers though. You were his – and you were definitely not allowed to engage in any conversation with those dimwits without him by your side.
“Doll, would you please wear that pretty black dress that I got you last week? We’ll be having dinner with the boys.”
Blaise …
… is stressed. He knows the minds of pervy teenagers, and it unsettles him to know that so many are obsessed with you.
… would wake up extra early to accompany you to breakfast and/or your first class.
… would run through the halls to get to you as quickly as possible if you didn’t have the same classes.
… would probably also threaten someone that made you feel uncomfortable or belittle them in front of a crowd, always watching them rush away with a satisfied smirk on his face.
“Don’t worry, babe. He deserved that.”
Tom …
… doesn’t notice your admirers at first. But when he does … he hates it. Absolutely detests the attention you get.
… would find it annoying and inconvenient.
… would drag you along if someone tried talking to you and just force you away from that person.
… would scare everyone who approaches you – and due to his friends and minions he always knows about everything – even if he wasn’t with you when it happened.
… would definitely murder someone if they took it too far without batting an eye.
“The annoying Gryffindor boy disappeared? How curious.”
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys headcanons#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott imagine#draco imagine#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire imagine#lorenzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire x reader#enzo berkshire#blaise zabini#blaise zabini x reader#tom riddle#tom marvolo riddle#tom riddle x reader#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheoxreader#mattheo riddle imagine
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Nepenthe
꩜.ᐟ Qimir x Padawan! Reader
Why would your master want a padawan like you when he has his acolyte?
Notes: I've seen fics abt padawan reader and none can quench my thirst eugh😫pls note i have nooo idea what goes on in the star wars universe please don't come for me😣
"Hand me that one, fast" He gestured to the purple fruit just beside you, not daring to glance at you. "Yes, sir"
You curiously peeked over your master as you handed the fruit, what was so important it had him rushing like this?
"It's for Mae," he says, the squelching fruit making you frown, you forget he reads minds as easily as breathing. Your frown deepens as you remember. Mae. His acolyte, he took you in a few months before Mae came, that first few months felt like heaven, it was just you and him, in this unknown planet, training, practicing.
Yet, after Mae came, it almost felt like you were some kind of servant for the both of them, he trained with her day and night, leaving you to fend for yourself, he told you it's because you've already been trained by him, that you don't need to anymore, you didn't mind, you got along with Mae... on your perspective that is.
Mae was a fast learner, you were proud of her, now you have someone to share your training with, converse like a normal person, but later you realized that him and her were two sides of the same coin, quiet, mute, they don't like conversations, although you made an effort to be friends with Mae, than you ever did with your master since she was the lesser evil, you're quite proud of yourself when your conversations with her turned from smalls nods and no's to simple phrases.
You didn't care that your master had two Padawans under his belt, that is until he taught her some things he never even told you about, every now and then he would drop hints about what he would teach you next, to prepare you, but this one was unknown to you, you thought, maybe, maybe he forgot to tell you since he was so engrossed in trying to make Mae catch up to you, but Mae didn't just catch up to you, she had already passed way above you, while your stuck on the pedestal she was weeks ago.
"Something on your mind, little bee?" That nickname, he never once gave an explanation on why he calls you that. "No, uh, nothing.. master"
You focus on his muscles grinding the stone bowl.
"I don't think that's nothing"
"I'm fine, really." You bite the inside of your cheeks. "Hm"
You blink, fiddling with the hem of your robes, you let a few seconds pass before speaking up.
"Why.. why does Mae need it?" He halted his movements, and right then and there you almost regretted asking, almost. "She's having nightmares"
He resumed his cooking, although his brief answer didn't provide you with anything, so what? You were having nightmares once too, and he told you to suck it up.
And as if he read your mind, which he did. "I don't want it to hinder her performance, we don't want any distractions during this time of her training."
What about my training? You wanted to yell at him, what about me? Why can't you make me one of your anti-nightmare potions too?
You could only clench your fists, making sure he doesn't hear some of your thoughts, which is hard considering he didn't teach you to, only Mae, along with healing your body by using the force, all her, and your left in the dust.
Your master said using negative emotions is the best fuel for people like them. Them. He told you, him and Mae obvi, you're nowhere near the equation, like an addition symbol in a multiplication question, makes no sense right? Because you make no sense being there when he clearly prioritizes Mae.
"—are you still listening?"
"I, huh," your eyes flutter up to him, frowning when he says nothing but look at you. A few seconds pass with only the both of you staring each other down, I mean, him staring you down with his creepy mask, he suddenly lets go of the pestle, the tool colliding with the mortar loudly.
He was now towering over you, and you realize then how big he was compared to you, it's like a dwarf next to a willow tree. (Guys no matter how big you think you are, Qimir is always bigger✋)
"I can't hear you, but I feel you" oh fuck, you forgot about that. "What is this plaguing your mind?"
Before you could answer, Mae comes running.
"You're back" He focuses on her, you let out a deep breath, for once your relieved Mae came in just a nick of time. "The ship's ready, master"
"Good, let's go" he grabs his robe from behind you. "Finish the potion before we come back"
"Whe, where are you guys going?"
"Nothing of importance, now go." He gestures to the stone bowl, his menacing helmet buzzing in your ears. "Yes, master.."
"Good girl." you couldn't hear his last few mumbles, only registering everything when they left the cave, leaving you alone.
-
You decided that you're gonna make an anti-nightmare potion for yourself too, because why does only Mae get it when you can make one in case you get nightmares?
And the best place to buy ingredients was with the best apothecary in town.
"Qimir?" You knock on the door. "I need to buy things for him, are you there?"
No answer.
"Hellooo?"
You pouted and turned around, now everyone's busy when you're not, you wanted to wait for a few more seconds but people might think you're crazy for trying to buy from an abandoned pharmacy, your master told you Qimir was there anytime you needed something to use for missions, but now that you don't go to missions, you love to annoy the clumsy pharmacy owner.
"Hey, wait!"
You tried to stop the smile creeping to your face when you hear the door bust open.
"I'm here!" He yelled, you turned around and waved, a big smile covering your face. "What took you so long?"
"What do you mean?" He playfully shrugged. "Been here since forever"
You felt more comfortable with him, you don't have to have to tiptoe around him unlike with the other, you liked to tease him about not taking a bath and for looking like a ragged hobo.
"What are you doing here though?" His eyebrows furrowed as you skip to him, you gave him a warm smile once again before making your way inside. "I need some things for him."
He frowned.
"Things? He didn't tell me he needed anything when they passed here."
"Well he told me, so go fetch it for me, servant" you chuckle and hit him on the bicep, he fakes a cry before hesitating to open the shelves.
"Here's the list of his majesty needs"
"His majesty?" He laughs, you just love making him laugh, maybe it's just you, or maybe you're just alone, but if there's anyone in the world you're going to survive an apocalypse with, it's Qimir.
"Uh huh, he keeps barking orders, finish this, finish that before we get home nyeh nyeh nyeh"
He chuckles once again. "Are you sure about telling me that? I might just snitch and get a promotion."
You feign an insulted look. "You don't dare"
"Oh but I do"
You both sat there laughing, forgetting about what you were here for. You clutch your tummy and struggle to inhale air.
"I can't— stop—" you burst out laughing once again, your face heating up, the tears in your eyes now brimming full.
"No no don't die on me" He jokes, you can see him staring, you wanted to look at him like that, shameless, but you can't stand looking at him for more than 3 seconds without blushing.
"Really?" He mumbles, but you heard him, clear as day. "What?"
"I, I mean, really h-huh? You can't stop laughing?" He waved both his hands in the air.
"You weirdo"
"Oh so now I'm the weirdo?"
"Uh huh"
"Since when?!"
"Since we met"
"Says the person who keeps barging in my shop"
"You like it though right?" You look up at him expectantly. "Like w-what?"
You gesture with your hands. "This?"
"This what?"
"You're always alone here, you must be grateful that I always visit."
"Yeah, always"
"What does that mean!" You put your hands on your waist. "It means you're always here, so you're like an everyday occurance by now"
You roll your eyes as he finishes up the list.
"Here's the last one—" you frown as he pauses. "What?"
"Isn't this," he picks up the list again. "It's for.."
You gulp, your fingers fumble with the wooden seat.
"N-no, no, it's not" you avert your eyes from him, the floor looking a little more interesting today.
"It's for nightmares isn't it?"
"I don't know, he only gave the list, nothing else."
"It is for nightmares, why do you need these?"
"I don't know, it's not for me." You clench your fists. "If it was for him he'd tell me himself"
Your eyes try to find something, anything, to tell him.
"I think it's for Mae okay? Maybe, maybe she's having nightmares and, and maybe he doesn't want it to distract her.."
"But I al—" he pauses, his jaw flexing. "I already gave him these."
His eyes narrow on you, like a deer in the headlights you could only look away.
"Tell me?" His soft voice lures you to him. "Are you having them?"
"No.." you sigh, do you tell him you're making the potion out of spite for your master? For making one for Mae and not for you, ugh it all sounds childish now, before you left you had a plan, and now you look like a child caught.
"Just—" you let out a deep breath. "Give it, and I'll be on my way"
He stares at you for a moment, before placing everything in a small pouch. You thanked him and left the credits on the table before hurriedly leaving, you could still feel his stare at the back of your head.
#qimir x padawan! reader#qimir x reader#the stranger x reader#the stranger#acolyte x reader#the acolyte#manny jacinto x reader#manny x reader#manny jacinto
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— PROTECTOR
pairing: yandere!percy jackson x fem!gf!reader
summary: percy can’t seem to grasp the idea that you can survive just fine on your own.
warnings: arguments, combat, injuries, kinda backwards views/manly views, kind of dark (protective) jealousy, obsessed?? smothering/coddling
a/n: basically he can’t stop worrying, lmk if u want a part 2! sorry it’s short - i already did part two heheh just now
PART TWO
specially for the amazingly talented @lady-ashfade
percy was incessant.
ever since you’d reached camp and gotten settled in, he seemed to be everywhere. whether it be in the mornings at breakfast, at training, when you hung out with your friends, your boyfriend always found away to be right there with you. spacial boundaries be damned.
everyone noticed, they all chalked it up to adorableness. the two of you couldn’t stand to be apart from each other for too long, how adorable was that? but that was only the start. the following along you could put up with, it was quite easy to escape when needed. letting him talk to your friends and get engrossed in the gossip of the ares cabin. excusing yourself from him for lady reasons which never failed to make him red in the face.
it wasn’t as if you were sick of him or anything but you felt smothered. everywhere you turned he was right there, shining smile and ready to talk your ear off. you figured as your relationship progressed and he made more friends, that he’d have his own time.
why would he need friends when he has you?
but your rude awakening came in the form of a training session with a friend.
harry was one of the first people who welcomed you into your cabin, open arms and a warm smile. and percy hated him most. he hated the fact that someone else was able to provide you with the comfort he assumed only could originate from him. anytime the two of you were hanging out hed always inject himself in between the two of you.
“are you trying to burn your marshmallow?” harry laughed at your words whilst retracting his stick, “no but i like it crispy, chocolate melts easier with it.” the two of you had a long day, training with new campers and helping them settle in with luke. even if you didn’t have to, solving a dispute with the ares kids. and even solving the mystery of the stolen shoes. percy had been in the infirmary as a punishment for being out later than usual and accidentally falling from a tree.
he was trying to make sure you were safe in your cabin.
he’d been annoying the apollo kids into letting him out early and at some point they couldn’t take it anymore so they let him go. coming to see you, he didn’t expect to find you sitting next to harry, sharing a marshmallow. of course most people would just see it as a normal sharing but for percy? he wanted to drown the boy. who does he think he is? making a move on his girlfriend just because he’s in the infirmary?
“y/n.” his stern voice drew you from your conversation as you got up, “perce! you’re okay!” you smiled as you walked over to him, percy’s eyes were still trained on the kid. “perce?” you waved your hand in front of his face as percy grabbed a hold of your wrist and pulled you along, “what the hell? if you want me to come with you then just say so!” you were infront of his cabin now and he did not look happy, “i’m stuck in the infirmary and instead of coming to visit me, you’re hanging out with him?” his voice was filled with disgust, as your expression screamed puzzled.
“i was the first person who visited you! straight away, but you were unconscious for hours! there’s no point in me sitting there, since it’s not going to help you. so i got out of the way and let them do their work. my world doesn’t stop spinning because you’re not there percy.” you were too busy looking at him, his curling fists going unnoticed.
“i’m your boyfriend, not him. i don’t want to see you around him.” your hand slapped over your mouth as you laughed, from far away you might’ve seemed insane. your hands clutched your head, then abdomen as you laughed, “ahaha! oh my god! you’re crazy! you don’t own me, nor control me percy. if you want to be my boyfriend, you need to learn that i am my own person. when you change your attitude, then come back to me.” you walked away from him, before turning around.
“and until then i’m not sleeping here.” you ran inside to pick up your clothes and bag as percy stood in the doorway, “are you serious?” you clutched all of your belongings, as if he’d try to steal them, “yes i am.” surprisingly he let you go, watching you walk back to your own cabin.
the rest of the night he spent thinking of how he could get you back in his grasp. capture the flag was tomorrow, and he had a plan to make you see just how much you needed him.
#pjo x reader#percy jackson x fem!reader#percy jackson x reader#percy jackson fic#percy jackson imagine#yandere percy jackson#yandere percy jackson x reader
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Rehearsing
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Spider-woman!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Smut and Fluff, Accidental Voyeurism, Masturbation, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Riding, Pining, Dumification, Overstimulation, Aftercare.
Summary: Miguel isn't good when it comes to feelings...especially when it comes to you...
A/N: I just really like the idea of Miguel having a crush on reader and not knowing how to navigate it. This went through so many rewrites so I hope you enjoy. its pretty Fluffy and cheesy, but I'm a hopeless romantic so I enjoyed it.
Word Count: 5,547
“Tsk, why did she have to say that…”
Miguel can't help but feverishly type at his holo screens, with each passing second his irritation spreads.
It started a couple of months ago when you got recruited, at first it was just a simple attraction but the more you graced him with your presents the more he couldn't resist his growing feelings.
The problem is for one having a crush is ridiculous. He's not some teenager, he's a grown-ass man, leader of the spider society he can't just go having crushes on the people who work under him. Even if he got over that part of it there is another problem however plaguing his….situation, he can hardly even speak to you.
Before he was Spider-Man he was quite suave and if he didn't want to converse with someone he could at least manage it. Nowadays, he seems to only be talking in gruff commands, short sentences, or just downright mean. Closing himself off from personal things. He blames the whole masked vigilante thing for his lack of practice in conversing.
It's not like he hasn’t tried though, he's come close to having normal conversation with you numerous times but when you look at him with those eyes something in him seems to short-circuit and he's a mess of a man before you. Shocking ridiculous…
Finally, Miguel couldn't take it anymore; he had to get closer to you. The plan was simple: he arranged for you and him to go on a mission together. It was the perfect way to get closer to you, You and him alone, out of the society walls away from prying eyes, he could finally open up to you.
Unfortunately, the beautiful plan he had so painstakingly rehearsed over and over again in his mind, came to a screeching halt when the day of you walked into his office with Gwen and Hobie in tow. Of course, something was going to derail his plans. It couldn't ever be simple
Miguel could easily say no to Gwen and Hobie asking to tag along, but those two were clever. They had you ask for them and of course, you did. Miguel knew that the inclusion of them would wreck his plan but he just couldn't resist you, he would do anything for you…anything…you just had to ask.
Now with his whole plan derailed he was sulking in an isolated corner of the rooftop building as the rest of you all surveyed the city for anomalies.
“This is pretty dull…” Hobie comments
Well no shit, Miguel thinks to himself. This was supposed to be an easy mission so he could get closer to y/n. It wasn't supposed to be stressful, it was supposed to be easy. In his plan, he and y/n were supposed to already be enthralled in conversation. He had of course looked up conversation starters to use, it would have been perfect…
Miguel can only groan at Hobie, just looking at him makes his blood boil. Needing to calm his sudden irritation, his eyes fall on you. Looking so vigilantly to the city, taking the mission so seriously. He could do this forever, just watching you, he would gladly just be a piece of furniture in your life if you let him. There for you to use when you needed him. He would sit so patiently as he just watched you live. Just basking in the warm radiance of you.
Miguel can’t help but stare at you, mind racing with thoughts. So when you finally turn he is quick to move his gaze, pretending to not have been staring, tapping again at his watch.
He thought for sure he had been slick but when he looked up again to gaze at you he saw Hobie with a wide smirk on his face. Almost like Hobie has been reading his mind. Hobie huffs a chuckle to himself before he looks at you then back to Miguel, Then that damn question rang out from his smug mouth.
“How about some team bonding huh?” All eyes fall on Hobie and before anyone can even respond he's continuing “I’ll ask the first question, what does everyone fancy?”
Going to voice his protest about how that is not imperative knowledge to know about a teammate Gwen is chiming in “Oh! I love a guy with witty humor, even if it's not particularly funny, if he's clever I will like it.”
Hobie nods “Very nice gwendy, personally, I have a thing for hands”
This caused a laugh from y/n and Gwen and Miguel just couldn't help the irritated look on his face.
“Miguel how abou-”
“No” Miguel quickly cuts off the question.
“Fine, Y/n what about you?”
Now Miguel didn't care about the teen's answers, but yours, this could be his chance to find out what you like. He was hopeful it would be something similar to him or something that he has. Watching with bated breath, your face contorts into deep thought, and then your answer rings through making his breath still.
“I like smiles”
A smile…of course, you would say a smile…
You couldn’t say, tall or muscular, or stern, you couldn’t have just pointed to Miguel you had to say smiles…something that he never does
Pulling himself back to the present Miguel stops typing away at his holo screen shutting them off. It had been a couple of days since the mission and he was still agonizing over the revelation. Smiles…Staring ahead towards one of his monitors he studies his face through the reflective surface, his ever stern face showing no sign of emotion.
Miguel then practices a smile and quickly stops with a frown, sighing irritatedly as his foot begins to tap, what is he doing? Looking forward again, He braces his large hands on his desk then smiles again, this time showing his teeth, large fangs on display from the grin. He keeps the smile placed there and turns his head from left to right smiling a bit wider. He then stops whipping his hands down his face.
This is ridiculous…he should be working not practicing how to smile but, you like smiles…maybe if you thought he had a nice smile…
Miguel feels his face slightly flush and the tips of his ears warm. Looking back to the reflective surface he takes a deep breath to ready himself. Sure this is pathetic, but it's for you, he would do anything for you and if you want a smile he was going to make sure to practice to give you the best smile he could muster. Training, it's just like simple training…
“Hey, how are you today y/n?” -smiles-
“Oh, are you eating lunch? Can I join you?” -smile-
“What? You like my fangs? Well thank you y/n” -smile-
“You look gorgeous today.” -smile-
Miguel breaks the last rehearsed smile and rubs his hands on his face once more, an exasperated sigh leaving him again.
“this so stupid…that wouldn’t work…”Practicing how to smile for her. Pathetic.
The sound of his office door opening breaks his pouting. Miguel quickly puts his screens back up making him seem busy with work. Then the sweet sound of your voice rings through his blushed ears, turning, he thinks it can't be true, but there you are. Staring up at him with those shining eyes.
Just give me a chance, you won't regret it; he thinks to himself.
“Hello Miguel, we caught the anomaly in dimension 0798, Peter had a mayday emergency come up so he asked me to deliver the reports.”
You type away at your watch screen sending the completed report his way.
“I also wanted to see if you had anything else for me before I take my leave,”
Miguel opens up the report you sent his way, it's pristine and thorough, you always wrote the best reports…god could you be sexier…
Scanning over it quickly before putting it away his eyes return to you. Unable to help himself he stares at your beautiful form for a bit too long, face still in that stern look, no smile to greet you. Studying you for a moment wanting to confess his desire for you, wanting to tell you what you make him feel. But the words don't meet his lips, just a curt grunt.
“Nothing else, you can leave”
Giving a small nod you turn on your heels to leave, As you are walking towards the exit Miguel can't help himself and calls out your name. Whipping around quickly you face him once more with curious eyes.
Shit, he didn't think that through. Examining you he takes you in again. lovely eyes, glossy lips, those hips…he could stare at you forever. Clearing his throat averting his eyes to calm himself before he speaks.
“I hope you have a pleasant evening.'' He says not looking at you, then he forces himself to slide his scarlet eyes to you, then quickly balling his clammy hands into first he gives his best shot at a smile. It's more of a smirk and he's worried his fangs might be popping out too much. Sure, he's going to have to practice to do better, but this is what he's got for you now. He feels intense eyes not matching the smile but he keeps it on hoping this is enough for you; he feels like an idiot.
You look surprised for a minute before your lips widen to that additive smile of yours. God how you make his chest warm from your small actions, do you even know what you do to him? Breath catching in his throat he just watches how the simple act of your smile lightens up his dingy office.
“You too Miguel, thank you.” Turning back you exit the office, completely oblivious that you have completely melted him.
Watching you leave the smile turns more natural, softening his rigid features slightly.
“Well, that seemed to go well, practicing is starting to pay off huh?” Layla beams floating around Miguel's head, his face instantly falling back to his ever-iconic frown.
“Could you just, not?” the voice irritated but the slight flush of his ears gave away how on the inside he's beaming.
-----
Miguel couldn't help himself, after your brief interaction in his office a few days ago, he just couldn't resist the urge to see you again. But instead of just finding and talking to you (like a normal person) he settled on watching you through the cameras of HQ.
Yes, Kinda creepy, but when you are near he clams up so this was the alternative. You were training in the strength and conditioning room, sparring with Gwen to improve your combat skills. Miguel appreciated how seriously you were taking your training, sweat and fatigue in your eyes showing how you were instant to push yourself. Movements so graceful chest heaving as you wore out over time. Seeing your sweaty body a familiar rush spreads through him reaching his crotch, you're going to be the death of him…
Finally, the training wrapped up, Miguel watched as you stretched out your neck rubbing your sore shoulders. The training session wore you out. Always pushing yourself towards improvement, Miguel admired that about you.
“Si, baby so sore,” Miguel whispers as he watches you. If you gave him the chance he would rub all your soreness from you, he would make it his mission just to make you feel good.
Getting closer to the screen he thinks of what it would be like to just touch you, to hold you, just once. That's all he needed one touch and this crush would disappear.
Watching intently he sees that smile, like the one you had given him spread to your lips when Gwen handed you a bottle of water. Eagerly opening the water you press the bottle to your lips and start drinking in haste, the water running down your mouth to your neck. His heart skips a beat and his pants get tighter, of course, one touch wouldn't satisfy him. If he had you he could never let you go, his plight would only worsen.
Zooming on to your face he studies every curve, every feature.
“Just one chance, give me one chance…”
“One chance what?”
Peter's voice breaks Miguel's daze and causes him to quickly hide the monitor with his hands. It's too late however Peter is right next to him and has heard what Miguel said. Peter's face is confused at first but when he looks at Miguel's eager hands trying to hide something he leans in further, and then a sliver of your face shows through. Realization hits him and an excited smile spreads to his face. Peter watches as Miguel's face slightly flushes and contours to irritation.
“Miguel, wait, do you-”
“No, ¡Cállate!”
------
After a long conversation of Miguel telling Peter to shut up while he guesses his crush correctly, he's boasting about how he figured Miguel was interested in y/n and how he was going to help Miguel out. Miguel was reluctant, but he wanted to get closer to you desperately, so if Peter was going to help to make that happen he would just have to grit and bear it, for you, anything for you. Peter assures Miguel he knows how to help him but he first has to go pick up some supplies….
Peter returns to Miguel’s office with a bag. Miguel knew he was about to regret this.
“So I figured because you have a hard time talking to y/n the best thing to do is rehearse what you are going to say. When I asked out MJ I practiced this whole speech for her, very romantic. She loved it.” As Peter talks he opens the bag to reveal a wig that is very raminist to your hair. Peter flips the wig on his head and faces Miguel.
Miguel just shakes his head disapprovingly
“No, Absolutely not.”
“Come on Miguel we are just going to practice what you're going to say” Peter tries to reassure with a smile.
“Is the wig really necessary?” Miguel groans as he watches Peter flick the hair from his face and adjust the wig.
Peter holds his hand to his chest in mock offense “It helps me get in character”
“I'm not doing this” Miguel turns to leave to go back to working on his platform before Peter quickly protests.
“Okay, okay, I'm just trying to help ease the tension, but let's do this, practice what you are going to say.”
Miguel huffs, he really must be desperate to be getting Peter's help like this. “How do I even approach her?”
“You could start with a hi, you know like a normal person?”
Miguel groans “Okay…” Peter turns away from Miguel. Miguel takes a moment to think of his approach before he walks closer to Peter.
“Hello, Y/n do you have a second to talk?”
Peter whips around in a perky dementor, “Oh hi Miguel, of course, I have a second just for you” Peter says in a mockingly sweet tone and shoots Miguel a wink that has his skin crawling
“She wouldn't do that”
“You don't know, plus I'm playing y/n so I am putting my creative twist to it, now continue”
Miguel rolls his eyes before continuing.
“I enjoyed reading your last mission report, very thorough as usual”
Peter groans breaking character “Miguel, that’s boring, don’t talk about work. You're trying to ask her out not give her a promotion”
Miguel thinks “Well that’s a thought…”
Peter snaps his fingers “Look you like her you need to get personal share your feelings; share your passion.”
Miguel scoffs rolling his eyes, sharing his passion. He couldn't get that personal so quickly. Peter can read his distrust and is quick to convince him.
“No, trust me, I landed MJ I know how to talk to women, now try again but with more passion and fire!”
Peter goes back to where he was standing before. Miguel turns and thinks of Y/n. Passion? Fire?
His thoughts go back to when he first saw her, he thought she glowed in a breathtaking radiance, and he couldn't remember when he saw someone so beautiful. Then once she started talking she was so positive, but never naive, she just always wanted to bring people up and make them feel better. She was also a hard worker, always picking up the slack for others and always wanting to improve herself, not everyone was like that, they would just be content with how things were but not her. Then there was how she always made a room warmer from just being there, things were just a little bit better when you were around. Miguel saw qualities in her that he wished he had, or that he wished a partner would have. So since he met her, she was stuck in his mind.
Finally, he thinks he has it,
“Y/n” Miguel breathes.
Peter turns around slowly “Why yes…” Before he can finish his words Miguel’s large frame is looming over him, hands quickly squeezing his arms to his sides staring intensely.
“I think you are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. You are so warm to me and I would destroy anything or anyone who would ever think of harming you. Just give me the word, give me a chance and I will…for you…anything for you…”
Peter looks terrified from the intensity of the confession and a coughing nose makes them break the intense eye contact.
They see Jess and Ben staring at the two of them Jess is the first to speak up
“Should we come back later? Or…”
Miguel and Peter quickly break apart.
“Look that wasn't towards me Miguel has a thing for Y/n”
Right as Peter voices your name Miguel's hands on his throat to strangle him. Jess and Ben all let out a long ‘oh’ as Miguel proceeded to shake Peter by his neck.
“It’s actually been quite sweet” a voice calls “I mean we all should have guessed considering he stares at her like a love-sick dog.”
This causes Miguel to stop his assault on Peter and look around confused. Dropping down he sees Hobie with that smug look on his face.
“Your kinda obvious mate.”
Miguel shakes his head, irritation and embarrassment starting to take him over.
“What are you doing here?” Miguel growls
“Look mate I just came to catch a nap, didn't expect to catch a show instead.”
Great, Peter knows, Jess knows, Ben knows and now shocking Hobie knows, this can't get any worse.
“So, when are you going to confess?” Ben asks curiously
“We were shooting for next week” Peter, now back to life, places his hand on Miguel's shoulder.
Hobie sucks air between his teeth and this causes everyone to turn to look at him confused.
“I wouldn’t wait that long if I were you, apparently she has a crush she's going to confess too soon.”
Miguel's eyes glow red, it just got worse- “She likes someone? Who!” He barks out to get an answer
Hobie holds his hands up in mock surrender “I ain’t got scooby doo mate, just what I heard”
“Well that could just be a rumor,” Jess says trying to calm Miguel's sudden rage
“It was from a reliable source” Hobie counters with a smirk.
------
What is he doing, What is he doing?
Miguel's mind races as he swings through y/n’s dimension. It was just a rumor he tried to assure himself, but that small voice in his mind counters, what if it wasn’t? What if it was true and he missed his chance, no, even if you reject him he needs to tell you how he feels. All his nervousness seems to flow away as he gets closer to your apartment.
Your apartment in view he takes a deep breath and swings over, gripping the wall with his talons to catch himself. Climbing with a fever he reaches your window which was left open by a crack, the curtains of your room hiding the inside. He didn't even know if you were home, and just going in would be an invasion of your privacy but Miguel can't resist he needs to talk to you tonight!
Slowly opening the window more he first smells it, then your whimpering moan confirms it. Miguel swallows trying to soothe his suddenly dry throat. With slow movements, he carefully opens the window and peaks through the curtains.
There you are, back arched, hair messy, bouncing on a large dildo. It was the image he had fantasized about and now it's happening right in front of him. Completely hypnotized by the sight and urged by the tightening of his suit's crotch area. He moves his head in more, pushing up on the window to open it slowly wider to lean himself in.
“Ah!~ ah!~”
Eyes widening Miguel thinks he's dreaming, the throbbing of his cock is killing him and as he moves his hand from the window to palm his sudden ache. But with no warning the window slid shut abruptly, landing hard on his head and making a loud thump. The sudden noise startles you to scream, quickly unsheathing the dildo from your wet pussy and fumbling to cover yourself with the ruined sheets of your bed.
“Miguel? What are you doing here?” you ask in a panic.
Face flushed Miguel crawls through your window landing clumsily on the floor. He's too embarrassed to answer your question.
“What's wrong with your window?” -smooth, avoid the question.
“It's broken, it only stays open a crack” you ramble in confusion, then you furrow your eyes back to him “wait, don’t avoid the question, why are you here?”
Miguel stumbles off of the floor now towering at his full height. Looking down at you he can't help the desire flooding down to his cock. The sweat makes your skin glow, your hair a disheveled mess from fucking yourself too fast, nude body wrapped in your thin white sheets that as your arousal completely drenches it making it appear slightly see-through on your body. Great, he thought confessing to you would be hard before, but now it seems downright impossible.
Miguel sees you shuffling uncomfortably so he turns around before he speaks, the tips of his ears red from blushing.
“I wanted to speak with you.”
“Uh, You couldn't call?”
Miguel's shoulders slumped slightly, this was not going well…
“No, it's not a work matter”
“Then what-”
“Personal” Miguel quickly whips around looking at your eyes before turning back around. He starts tapping his foot feeling nervous.
“You see y/n, I'm not exactly the best when it comes to talking..about…personal things. I usually focus on work, especially since founding the society that honestly takes up my entire life-” Miguel feels himself starting to ramble, great he's talking now but not saying what he needs to. “Well lately there has been something else occupying my mind, and it involves you.”
Miguel hears you shuffling around and his nerves are threatening to get the better of him. How can he face anomalies, and lead a whole superhuman society but he can't just tell someone he likes them? Taking a deep breath he steadies himself once more. He just needs to do it, confess, come on it's just like ripping off a bandaid.
“Do you remember what Hobie asked us?…”
Miguel winces and scratches the back of his head, Why is he bringing this up now? Great; This confession is already crap…
“Um…Yeah?” shit, you sound so creeped out. Well, how could you not be right now? Just need to keep going.
“Well, the thing is, it's you…the thing I like, well you're not a thing. The person I like..is you. But I guess Hobie was talking about characteristics…you have actually a lot of characteristics that I am fond of…like your eyes for one…but it's not just your appearance, shit…¿Qué demonios estoy diciendo? (what the hell am I saying).”
As Miguel rubs his hand on his forehead feeling stupid for doing this, his words are cut off by the sensation of a hand touching the middle of his back gently. The hand rubs up and down slowly, causing a shiver to roll down Miguel's spine.
“I like you too,” Your voice rings in his ears, the thumping of his heart stilling for a moment as his breath stops. Miguel turns around to face you. You're looking up at him still wrapped up in your sheets, arms wrapping around his waist. That smile that lights up his mind, how your touch warms his body. He's addicted to how you make him feel.
“I’m not good at this…there was this whole speech I rehearsed..”
“Yeah, you might need some more practice on your romantic speeches”
Looking down you look like an angel wrapped in your white sheets looking up at him with such tenderness. Not wanting to waste this moment he leads down towards your face.
“I think I'm more of a man of action, rather than words”
Feeling your soft hand touch his face he sees how to lift your toes to get closer to his face fanning your breath over his lips.
“Isn’t the saying? Actions speak louder than words?”
With that he swiftly lifts you from the back of your thighs, instinctively you wrap your legs around him, and then your arms wrap around his neck while your fingers play with his dark hair. Seating himself down on your bed with you straddling him. Miguel's crimson eyes just keep to your face, taking in how your face changes with every movement he makes.
Tenderly you place your hands to the sides of his face, leaning in you carefully catch his lips into a kiss. He reveled in how your glossy lips formed to his, his tongue gently pushing through your lips. He has to open his eyes and close them again just to make sure this is real and not one of his daydreams.
The kiss becomes more heated, you taste better than he could have imagined. Slowly he rubs his gloves hands over you causing your thin sheet to slip off you pooling to the floor.
Miguel breaks the kiss and looks down at your nude body. A low groan vibrates through his chest as he pushes your body closer to him, then roughly grabs your ass. The sudden touch has you jumping forward with a whimper. Taking the opportunity, he is quick to latch his plush lips to your perked bud. Tongue swirling around the sensitive peak while his talons threaten to pierce the skin of your ass.
He's lost in the moans of you losing yourself to the pleasure. Tugging and pinching your sensitive skin as he licks the valley of your breast. Getting drunk off your moans he swears he could continue to taste your skin forever but, the feeling of your wet cunt rubbing against his erection tips him off to how needy you are becoming, your rutting into him like you're in heat, and he's quick to make it worse by grinding into you latching onto your breast once more.
“Miguel, please…”
That's right, beg…Miguel releases your nipple with a pop.
“Please what my angel?” he grabs your neck and licks a stripe up to your ear that causes you to shake.
“I want you, Please.”
Miguel smiles and deactivates his suit, his strained erection quickly popping forward to slap your puff folds, moans escaping from your lips. Grabbing a hold of his cock he slips it through your folds coating it your slick. Practically coming undo then he feels how your nails scratch his skin, the teasing is making you desperate. Miguel can't help himself; he slaps his cock on your swollen clit just to hear you whimper.
“Ride it, angel.”
Grabbing his cock he holds it still as you breathlessly line yourself up to the pebbling tip of his cock. Tight grip on his shoulders you slowly sink yourself down. Inch by inch slowly splitting yourself open on him.
“It’s ah, big…”
You're already clenching and you're only halfway down. Miguel is quick to rub soft circles on your hip gently guiding you while cooing praises to your ear.
“Shh, I know but you're almost there, just relax.”
Finally, you have pressed him in, the delicious stretch making your head roll over your bare shoulders. Taking a moment to adjust to his size Miguel presses delicate kisses to your chest and collarbone. His hands hold your hips as you adjust to his length.
“Look at you, you're taking me so well”
Glazed-over eyes meet his praise and your glossy lips stretch to a smile. He thinks he could cum just at the sight, but he knows you need more, and he's not going to disappoint you. Quickly he's lifting your hips up and down fucking you slowly down on him. All you can do is moan and grab his shoulders tighter and his pace builds from slow and tender to more vigorous.
Subtle grunts of ‘Mine’, and ‘sweet’ escape his lips as he practically uses you as a human fleshlight. To Miguel's surprise though you're pushing his chest to lay his back onto the bed. Once he's down you start bouncing faster on him.
Bouncing, up and down the squelch of your wet pussy clenching on him, you are mewling in pleasure as your face contours to that of a silent scream. Body glistening from the sweat fucking yourself hard on his cock, back arching as you chase your orgasm. Miguel can help but throw his head back moaning, his mouth hanging open fangs stretched out. He never thought his sweet angel could be so relentless, it has his cock throbbing.
“That's it, baby, fuck yourself dumb on my cock”
Miguel starts rubbing and flicking your clit that has your eyes pricking with tears. He watches as you pant, your velvet walls clenching down on him as you continue to ride him approaching orgasm. Sweat rolls down your flushed skin and you continue. Taking his hand he gently grabs your chin and makes you look down at him, he wants to etch the fucked out expression to his mind forever. His sweet angel mouth in that perfect ‘o’ and her hooded eyes pool with tears from the intense pleasure.
Biting his lip he slams his hip up nudging into your cervix that has you throwing your head back screaming, your nails digging into his chest as you finally squirt on his cock.
“Cumming, I'm cumming miggy~ ah, ah ah!”
“That’s it, cum on my cock, such a good girl, squirting all over me.”
Fucking you through your orgasm he stops your bouncing and grabs your hips guiding you to rock back a forth on his length. Squirming and wailing in overstimulation he knows that the pain and pleasure are swirling together making your brain split, your cunt gets wetter as it tightens to try and accommodate to the rapture you are feeling.
“Just hang on for me angel, ah please…”
Thoroughly fucked dumb you're only able to blabber incoherently and nod through half-lidded eyes as Miguel's throbbing cock chases his orgasm. With your blissed-out agreeance, he Grabs the globs of your ass and fucks into your faster.
“Ah, I'm going to fill you up, you want that? Be filled with cum?”
You can only release a stream of ‘uh-huh’ as the coil in your stomach starts to tighten again. It's not until you muster a sweet coo of “fill me” that has him rutting harder shooting his hot cum inside you with one final thrust. Whimpering as he fills you, you sit still on his cock till you’ve practically milked him dry. The intense throbbing of his cock and the sudden rush of heat bursting inside you has your coil snapping as you cum on him a second time
Gently rubbing your sides he coaxes you down slowly to his chest. Curling his arm around you he softly kisses your spent body. Staying like that for awhile, it's you who finally rolls off his chest and disappears out of the room. Miguel hears what sounds like a bath, leaning up he looks up to see your nude body leaning in the doorway smiling at him, it's so infectious that he can't help but smile back.
----
Miguel's head is pressed to your chest as you gently massage the conditioner through his scalp. A smile pressed to his lips as he just relaxes with you in the warm bath. His large hand rubs tender circles on your knee as he just listens to your sweet hums as you tenderly wash him. The steam from the bath rises to create the perfect haze in the room, it feels so natural to be doing this,to be with you in such an intimate way. Kisses get pressed to his face as you hug him tightly, the smile on his face only growing wider.
“Miguel”
“Mhmm?” He lazily looks up at you to see your sweet smile. Carefully he brings his hand to brush your hair behind your ear.
“Nothing, I just really like your smile”
#miguel o'hara#across the spiderverse#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel spiderman#miguel ohara#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel o hara#miguel 2099#miguel atsv#astv miguel#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara fluff#miguel o'hara fic
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hello! It was just recently when I found your page and Immediately loved how you write Luffy!
I wanted to know if you could write a short fic about jealous! Luffy, maybe the crew land on a island, they went to a bar and reader started get hit on by another dude, I wonder if luffy would be overprotective or wouldn’t care that much.
tysm for the support! I’m so happy you like my writing, that means a lot!! :’) I’ve had some ideas for this concept and I love how this turned out, so thanks sm for the request <3
jealous luffy - luffy x gn!reader
fluff
summary in request, luffy’s progression from uneasy cluelessness into overprotective rage
words: 1k
________________________
Luffy’s been holding your hand all day, like he always does. And he’s been roughly dragging you around across the island because he’s excited to be in a new town and make friends and find adventures. Evening comes and your hand is sweaty, you love Luffy but you want a little break, so you tell him that, as gently as you can, when you follow some of the crew into a tavern in the town square.
It’s loud and warm and Luffy wanders off to see if they have food here, so you’re left alone to sit in one of the bar stools and wait to catch the bartender’s attention so you can get a drink. Your excitement doesn’t overflow like Luffy’s does but it’s been a long, boring voyage over this particular sea and the stable ground, the unfamiliar faces, the world outside of a wooden box are so welcome, and so you’re in a particularly good mood, more outgoing than you would normally be.
So when a man comes to you, and sits by you, and begins to ask you who you are and compliment your clothes you let him, you talk back happily. Because you’ve been talking to just the same nine people for far too long. When he offers to buy you a drink you think why not? and agree with a dismissive laugh.
Luffy is bored and notices you talking to a man he’s never seen before. He isn’t jealous, not yet. He doesn’t pick up on anything out of the ordinary, he doesn’t see a problem with his hand being close to yours, or the drink he offers you. In fact, Luffy’s jealous of you, because you’re getting something for free and he isn’t. He gets antsy and wants to hold your hand again, now that he’s in a bad mood. So he comes and sits cross legged on the floor, leaning against your stool, not saying anything.
You smile at him and return to your conversation. You’re aware, only vaguely, of how the man is leaning in closer towards you, how his gestures brush your arm. Luffy isn’t. But Luffy still feels agitated, like something’s not right, though he can’t place it. He plays with the cuff of your pants, staring straight ahead, brows furrowed.
You lean away as the man gets closer. You don’t feel in danger, you’re slightly amused at this man’s clear attempts to hit on you, you continue to laugh it off because Luffy’s there and you feel safe. You bring your hand up to rest your head on, to get it away from his creeping fingers, your body language is subtle but Luffy is starting to feel like something isn’t right. Something feels off in his heart, his stomach.
He’s watching the man now, from the floor beneath you, glaring as the man glances down icily at him. Luffy is stressed, a hand wrapping around your ankle. The man doesn’t feel threatened, he’s too confident, emboldened and cocky he rubs it in by leaning closer and complimenting you more. He wants to make Luffy jealous.
Luffy is angry. His face is heating up. Who does this man think he is? And as Luffy gets angry you’re feeling off too, like the man is getting too close, fingers reach out and brush your hair.
“Hey,” you try to dodge, not having any fun anymore. You want out, you’re racing to think up an excuse, or try to get Luffy to do something, but you’re scared. The man is tall and strong, probably a pirate himself, you don’t know what he might do in the face of denial. You feel awful for your kindness and excitement just minutes ago, you feel a little sick. The man tries to hold your hand and you jerk away, no subtlety anymore.
And that’s when Luffy breaks. The rage inside him suddenly explodes because he may not know what it means to come onto someone, but he knows you, he knows when you’re upset. And his overprotective side takes over and he decides that this man is going to be the one to pay.
Luffy shoots up from the floor and punches the man in the face with all the force he can, yelling at him to get away from you. You gasp and scurry off the stool, trying to grab Luffy’s shoulders, but he lunges at the man again with a sharp uppercut. The man reaches for the cutlass on his belt, blood dripping from his mouth, but Luffy sees red and hits and hits.
The tavern has turned to the three of you in shock, but cheers erupt from the alcohol ridden crowd as an animalistic fight breaks the bar in half. And there’s a clear winner.
Luffy stands, soon, in a rage-filled daze, fists clenched as he looks down at the unconscious man beneath him. And in an instant you’re crushed into strong, flexed arms, lifted from the ground, hands gripping your skin as Luffy holds you tightly in a silent need to keep you for himself. Kisses pepper your face and he rubs your hands and wrists and shoulders where you had been touched before by the man Luffy can’t stand to look at again.
“He can’t have you,” Luffy says unhappily, face buried in your neck, pouting like a child.
“Luffy…” You wrap your arms around him and try to steady your breathing, soaking in his familiar smell and warmth. “I’m ok… it’s alright-”
Your lips are met with a forceful kiss before you finish speaking. “Mmm!” Luffy grumbles into your mouth, still mad, a newfound clinginess developing in his heart as he grips you protectively.
You’re so aware of all the eyes on you, but all that you need right now is the overpowering presence of Luffy all around you. You’re safe. It’s over now. You close your eyes, Luffy’s mouth still attached to yours, as Nami rushes over to drag both of you out of the tavern.
#I like requests#luffy x reader#one piece x reader#luffy#one piece#luffy x y/n#one piece fanfiction#luffy x you#jealous!luffy#jealous luffy#jealous luffy x reader#luffy x gn!reader#luffy x reader fluff
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Kinktober day 15
Naruto Uzumaki + First time
I have never finished Naruto, and I haven’t watched a single episode of boruto. Take this as like, only vaguely placed somewhere in canon, post the war.
Reader is an Aburame, since I am so fascinated by their insects. So… warning for insects inside the body for the reader. I love Shino a lot, so its also because of that.
2024 kinktober masterlist
Naruto had a hard time remembering when you two even started dating. He was friends with Shino, yeah, but you weren’t even from the main family, instead you were just Shinos cousin. He brought you along on missions, and you helped during the war because of your extreme skill, and the mutation in your bugs. You spoke even less than Shino did, but the mutation in your beetles made you feel almost pleasant to be around for someone with as much chakra as Naruto.
Most of the time, Naruto did all the talking, with you just standing or sitting near him, nodding along whenever the conversation called for it. You wore shades like the rest of your family, and a long coat, with a hood and a high collar, barely leaving a sliver of skin visible. This was also why Naruto got so excited the first time you went without your coat around him.
It took him way too long to realize he had feelings, but it had started early enough that it just didn’t feel right marrying Hinata or stringing her along. At the time Naruto had no idea why he felt what he did, but he was an honest guy, so it felt wrong to keep doing that to her.
For you it also took an embarrassingly long time. You picked up his scent of arousal or animalistic interest, yeah, but to you that didn’t register in your brain as something that meant anything. It was a normal human function, so there was no need to act.
The insects inside your body had picked up on it far before either of you did, multiple of them regularly leaving your body to hang around Naruto. It wasn’t even just to feed on his powerful chakra that they had come to love, but just to be around him. They had lived inside you since you were a baby, so it was no shock that they evolved to have the same taste as you at least.
Shino had also started glancing at you, along with the rest of the clan after a while. They didn’t need their heightened senses to feel Narutos powerful chakra left on you, or to pick up the strong scent of the blonde since you two would cuddle “as friends”. You knew it had to be bad when your clan of all people started trying to have a conversation with you about it, which you perfectly ignored and avoided.
Unknown to you or Naruto, bets started hanging in the air in your friend group. How could it not, when it was so obvious you two had some kind of thing for the other. Though, it was so much easier to see on Naruto, since you were even harder to read than most of your clan.
In the end, your shared friend group, though they were more Narutos than yours, had to put together a plan to get you two partnered up. They couldn’t put up with Narutos sighing and gushing anymore, and your clan was starting to grow antsy with how much your colony just seemed to grow because of your welling feelings. And, nobody else would be able to tell, but they were also growing tired of your pining.
Them sending you two off to a bathhouse together was kinda dumb. It was supposed to be some “information gathering mission” just the two of you, but in reality, it was just an excuse to shove you two together in a hotel room. The attached bathhouse immediately had Narutos attention, who dragged you along, since there were private baths.
Like most Aburame, you felt uncomfortable with your body. You were covered almost from head to toe in scars, and not just from battles, but from the colony of insects buzzing inside your body. That was also another reason you didn’t go to bathhouses a lot, you didn’t want to drown your colony. There was a familiar feeling of them closing up pathways as you got into the steamy room though, so it was probably fine.
Of course, your shares were still on as you two washed down to get ready for the hot pool of water, you oblivious to the fact that the flush on Narutos face was from more than just the heat. You weren’t much better, of course. How could you, when Naruto was completely naked beside you, not caring to close his legs or anything as you washed soap off your bodies. So, when you were sure he wasn’t looking, you let your eyes wander, just a little.
Neither of you wrapped a towel back around your hips before walking to the pool, Naruto sighing loudly as you both got in. it was nice, even if you could feel the insects inside your body scuttling deeper and bunching up somewhere inside your chest to get as far away from the water as possible.
Naruto was rambling like always, looking more handsome than usual, if that was even possible. Talking about the mission, what he was gonna do when you guys got back to the village, whatever gossip he had heard, so on and so forth. His lips were so inviting and flush, like he had been chewing at them without much thought.
You had no idea what compelled you to lean over and place a soft careful peck on his lips. You had no experience, people didn’t typically line up to sleep with the guy filled with bugs, did they. It helped that you knew Naruto didn’t have any either, outside of some kisses with Hinata, but they’d never gone anywhere below the belt.
Naruto just stared at you with wide blinking eyes, speechless for once as he seemed to struggle understanding what had just happened. “I… apologize. That was… rude of me” you mumble out, your voice raspy from disuse and the fact that beetles had carved pathways through your throat a while ago. You were almost able to climb out of the pool, shame curling in your gut, but you found yourself falling back into the water with a loud splash as Naruto lunged, dragging you back down.
“I- don’t leave! I-I liked it!” Naruto cried out, voice cracking as he almost scrambled into your lap to straddle you, his blue eyes boring into your through your shades, which miraculously stayed on somehow. “I want… lets do it again” the blonde exhaled loudly, grabbing your face and mashing his lips against yours with as little experience as you had kissed him before.
Your hands buzzed as they rose to lay on his hips, and it wasn’t from the beetles for once, but instead nerves and excitement. The kiss wasn’t much of a kiss, it was more just mashing lips and tongues together, teeth clacking and biting one another on accident. Naruto had very sharp canines, causing minor cuts when you pushed your tongue against them. You could feel the colony inside you buzzing, suddenly very interested in tasting Narutos blood, but you kept them down with chakra. No need to freak Naruto out like that.
As your lips parted, your shades were crooked, both your hair messy and a string of spit hung from the tips of your tongues, connecting you in yet another way. Naruto rubbed his hardness against the panes of your stomach, chewing at his lip with those sharp teeth of his, his pupils blown so wide it almost swallowed up the blue. You were just as hard, twitching whenever his ass dragged back against it, blood and chakra rushing through the pathways in your body.
“N-Naruto. We can’t just… we have to be prepared for this” you gasp out, trying to adjust your shades as Naruto snickers, looking half embarrassed and half like a fox, like the one sealed inside him. “Pervy-sage told me about this stuff, I know what im doing” he boasted, hooking three of his own fingers inside his mouth to start coating them in his own spit.
You weren’t sure you two should listen to Jirayas advice, when it came to this. But you had even less knowledge. For you, the birds and the bees had been explained in complete scientific terms and details, and had mostly focused on the results and how to do it safely, if he ever got the chance.
Watching Naruto raise his hips out the water and truly focus on the task of opening himself up was maddening, your nostrils flaring as you had to catch your breath. There was a twinge in his brow as he added more fingers before he was ready, but he was so hard and throbbing that he was dripping into the pool of water. You guys would probably be billed for that later…
Naruto worked himself open much too quickly, but he didn’t seem to care very much, removing his fingers from his hole as he grabbed for your dick, your very sensitive dick, mind you. it made a guttural gasp leave your chest, hands grabbing onto his hips as Naruto snickered again. “You ready, bugboy?” he giggled, that broad grin on his lips.
The nickname was enough to make you grumble, but it had served its purpose of distracting you long enough for Naruto to push his hips down, both of you groaning. You because of the sudden tightness around you, and Naruto from the stretch and fullness. But Naruto Uzumaki was never the type to give up, so he slowly worked himself all the way down, even as you tried to gasp out words for him to slow down for his own good.
Naruto was shivering slightly as he finally bottomed out, his eyes wet and shiny as he gave you a wobbly gummy smile, his face flushed all the way down to his chest. “S-see? I could do it” he gasped, jolting as your cock pressed accidentally against his prostate.
It was impossible to talk as you tried your hardest not to explode right then and there. You would have been worried about bruising him, if you didn’t know Naruto was more sturdy than you were. Lurching forwards, you buried your face into his neck, shuddering and panting to try and keep yourself at bay, eyes fluttering under your shades as Naruto hugged onto you.
“It-its okay, we can both… we can both just cum” Naruto rambled, voice wobbly in a way you weren’t used too. He was still throbbing against your torso, his length gushing out clear shiny fluid as Naruto tried his best to rock his hips. There was no finesse or technique, but neither of you needed much of that.
“W-wait Naruto, ill- I can’t hold it” you pant, eyes clenching shut under your shades as you pant against his skin, feeling your balls draw up as you spill inside him, your insides buzzing from a mixture of euphoria, and the colony feeding on the influx of hormones and chakra. The blonde let out a noise that sounded like his normal glowing chuckle, only for it to melt into a shaky drawn-out moan, Naruto spurting against your torso and his own.
You two sat there for a while, simply shuddering and holding one another as you tried your hardest to collect yourselves again, and register what had just happened. It had been a whole new experience, something new and unknown, but still so good.
It was only when you could feel the colony inside you growing sluggish and slow that you knew you two had to move. The hot water was starting to become too much, and your fingers were getting wrinkled. “Naruto… we gotta get up” you mumble against his shoulder, only getting a soft mumble in return. He sounded sleepy already, but Naruto did lift himself up after a while.
You could feel blood rush downwards against as Naruto crawled out of the pool, making it obvious your spend with dripping out of him. The choked noise you let out made Naruto glance back at you, shooting you a grin before he shuffled off towards the baths again. That minx, or should you say fox? He had probably picked that up from that pervy-sages’ books…
With a huff, you let a small smile pull at your lips as you crawl out of the pool as well, sliding your shades off as you walk past your pile of clothes. The colony should do better in a running shower and some cold water, you were sure Naruto wouldn’t mind finding warmth in another way.
#male reader#aburame reader#naruto#naruto shippuden#naruto uzumaki#naruto x reader#naruto x male reader#naruto imagine#naruto headcanon#naruto uzumaki x male reader#naruto uzumaki x reader#naruto uzumaki imagine#naruto uzumaki headcanon#naruto shippuden x male reader#naruto shippuden x reader#naruto shippuden imagine#naruto shippuden headcanon#tw insects#does this count as body horror for the reader?
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| Suguru doesn't eat, but tonight he's hungry | smutty smutty smut | tattooed Geto | depressed Geto | kinda poetic | Geto is young and beautiful and not crazy |
„You haven’t eaten, have you?”
No, Suguru hasn’t eaten.
It’s not like you’re surprised. He’s lost weight - nah, he’s been losing weight steadily for the past few weeks. People say that it’s hard to notice when you see someone regularly, but it’s not hard at all - especially in his case. You’re not sure what’s changed exactly. Suguru still looks relatively healthy, not underweight, but the dark circles under his eyes speak volumes.
You sigh and walk into his apartment. It’s surprisingly neat, to the point it’s a bit scary - so clean it gives an impression as if no living person could function there. And maybe that’s exactly how it is. Maybe that tall, handsome guy in black sweats that greets you is not a person anymore, but a ghost. It’s a question you constantly ask yourself in your head, but never dare to answer. Your heart would break.
„I wasn’t hungry.” A smile appears on his pale face and you sigh again.
You’ve been friends with Suguru since high school, but after your last year you went your separate ways, just to meet again years later - just a few months ago. He didn’t change much, at least not visually - except for his arms. He might have gone a little bit crazy on ink there, and that’s exactly what got the two of you talking again. Tattoos. You’ve never expected Suguru Geto, that sophisticated, awfully smart Geto would cover both of his arms in the most insane pieces of art you’ve ever seen. You’ve had your own share of ink under your skin, but your collection was quite messy and not that cohesive. You liked trying new styles, creating your own map of memories from different places and different artists, while his tattoos were definitely an artwork made by one man. You had a million questions, he was happy to answer - that’s how you ended up in his apartment for the first time. Soon you realised you had a million subjects to go through - politics, art, even God. It was easy, talking with him. It was fun.
And then it began - the movie nights, when the two of you were going through different eras of cinema alphabetically, also bringing snacks that would start on the same letter as the movie you were watching. A stupid idea that you shamelessly stole from „The Barbie Diaries” - the first movie you’ve watched together and the first one that left Suguru completely traumatised.
„Luckily for you, today we’re watching The Notebook, so we’ll be having noodles. What kind of noodles do you want, sir?”, you ask, handing him an invisible microphone.
Suguru chuckles.
„Spicy.”
A few clicks later the food is already on its way and the two of you get comfortable on his huge couch. The projector starts warming up and you look around - it’s completely dark inside and if it weren’t for the fact you know Suguru well, you’d think he made the apartament that way so the two of you could watch the movie comfortably. Your gaze goes back to him - his body hunching over the laptop, fighting with Netflix again.
The projector turns on and the movie starts, as the two of you hide yourselves under the blankets. Unfortunately, you can’t focus. You’re worried.
You’ve had some conversations about his depressive episodes before, so technically you know what he’s going trough, but honestly - you don’t. He doesn’t really talk about it, but if you could get into his head you’d understand how much he values your bare presence next to him. If you could get into his head, you’d know way more, but luckily for Suguru, you can’t. He wouldn’t like that.
In normal circumstances, at least. Because tonight, he is hungry, he is frustrated, and he needs warmth.
And you are anything but cold.
So when he catches your eyes on him, he bets. If you turn away, he’ll let you go. If you give in, he’ll make you stay.
Three seconds. That’s how much time it takes for Suguru to get closer to you and kiss you.
It’s short, soft and sensual, but it makes his head go fuzzy, and when he pulls back he just hopes you won’t run away. Don’t run away. Don’t.
You’re not running.
You’re sitting, legs crossed, just as you were seconds before. Your face is completely red now as Suguru’s eyes scan you carefully, desperate to see the future. Will you go? Will you slap him?
„Why did you do that?” Your own voice doesn’t even sound like your voice. „The Notebook” in the background is now completely forgotten, the flickering lights on the screen keep on changing and throwing different shades on Suguru’s pale face. You didn’t expect that. Not that you didn’t want to or think about it, it’s just…
„I’m hungry” he whispers, and the way his voice sounds gets shivers sprinting down your spine. „And the food’s not here yet.”
„Yeah. It’s not.” He still keeps his hands on your cheeks, right thumb gently brushing your skin, touch light as a feather.
„What are we going to do about it?”, he murmurs, words are barely audible. He’s waiting. There’s another unspoken question hanging between the two of you, and you’re the one who needs to answer.
And that’s exactly what you do.
Both of your hands are suddenly gripping onto his hoodie as you lean into him, lips crashing yet again, just with much bigger force this time. Suguru’s breath shakes as he finally comprehends that he won the bet and a smile crawls onto his face. You’re kissing him. His ray of sunshine. Well, maybe not his yet, but when he’s done with you, that’s exactly how you will be.
And that’s exactly what he does.
His lips travel down your jaw, stop for a second under your ear and then go straight to your neck as your hands let go of his hoodie and find their way to his hair, gripping desperately on the black strands loosely caught in a bun. He groans at the feeling as he bites the skin of your exposed collarbone, his fingers playing with the hem of your blouse, eager to feel more and more of you. Suguru looks up and tries his best not to moan at the sight of your face, your lipstick completely devoured.
„Can I?”, a hoarse whisper leaves his throat, but it’s not even a question. He’s begging you.
And you let him.
He takes his own hoodie of as you take off yours - and you can see them again. The artwork on his arms. You lean your body against the pillows on the right side of the couch and Suguru gulps. He’s been imagining that for a while now, but the reality, for the first time in fucking forever, was so, so much better. His lips go back to sucking and licking your skin and by the moment he reaches your breasts you whine. His hot tongue plays with your nipples, making you impossibly wet, and the bare sight of him shirtless in those awfully beautiful sweats is not helping at all. A part of you is relieved - his muscles are still there, tensing a bit with every movement. And when he pulls away for a moment, you notice it.
„You’ve got a new one.” A koi fish, on his ribs, drawn as usual in a traditional style, this time with a bit of colour. Red. Your favourite. Your hand is shaking, but you can’t help yourself. You trace the shape of the tattoo, his hot skin under your fingertips feeling like fire. You are in awe - even more when you look at him again, breathing heavily. A god. He looks like a god.
And then he proceeds to make you feel like you’re nowhere but in heaven.
He’s not hungry anymore - by the time you’re completely naked he’s starving. His name escapes your lips when his grip on your thighs gets tighter, and then it hits you - his tongue finally making contact with the place you needed him in so desperately. Your hands find his hair again, pulling it relentlessly when he inserts two slender fingers inside of you, at the same time licking your clit. Suguru’s ravenous. You could be his breakfast, his lunch, his dinner, his dessert - everything. He could eat you out all the time, no breaks, no thoughts, no objections. He tries to control his own hips that have been grinding into the couch for a while now, but the feeling of you on his tongue isn’t making it any easier.
„Suguru…” your voice comes back to you, a familiar feeling slowly building up inside of your stomach. „I’m so close.”
You really are, and your clouded mind is making the sensation almost unbearable. Suguru groans yet again, happier then ever, and then you hear it.
„Come for me, baby.”
So soft. So simple. Not a demand, by no means. An invitation - to fall apart on his tongue.
You take it.
His name leaves your lips as your orgasm blinds you, back arching as you pull his hair so hard he groans. Suguru doesn’t stop right away - he makes you ride it out, drinking you like holy water. You shake and quiver and he thinks that maybe that’s exactly what it is. Holy water on his tongue.
And so you lay, completely fucked out under his perfect body, and when he goes up to look at you he’s almost sure he’s going to come right there, in his pants. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect.
„Fuck.” It falls from his lips as he’s taking these damn pants off and you gasp. „I just… Fuck.” He runs his hands down his face, your arousal glistening all over him. It’s like he shines. You might be going insane. Fucking Geto Suguru, hovering over you, his cock impossibly hard, looking for words. „Can I…”
Before he finishes, you lean into him and bring him down, pulling his neck closer to you and diving into the kiss. He pants and you get scared - it’s not reality. It can’t be. Suguru leaning into your touch, Suguru groaning into your ear, Suguru, Suguru, Suguru. His name carved all over your body, all over your mind.
He goes in slowly, trying his best not to come right away, but he’s more than determined to make you cum again, this time on his cock. He starts thrusting, diving as deep as possible and then reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. It feels so good. Too good to be true. He doesn’t fuck you - it’s way more than that. His lips move up and down your neck, leaving desperate kisses between pants and grunts. Suguru is in pain and you’re the cure. Suguru is the moon and you’re the sun. Suguru is the believer.
And you’re the god.
You asked him about it one night.
„Do you believe in God, Suguru?”
He said he didn’t, but he changed his mind. He does.
His god is right there, under his fingers.
You come again, moaning right into his lips when you kiss, and the way you clench around him sends him to the edge. He hides his head into the crook of your neck and twitches inside of you, warm cum covering your insides as he pants, hips desperately bucking into you. You’re barely conscious, but you wrap your arms around him and hold him as he’s trying to catch his breath. His heartbeat runs through you and it kinda feels like you’re one person. Maybe that’s exactly what you have become.
One.
„Are you still hungry?”
You can feel him laughing into your skin. Suguru moves his head up and readjusts it, so he can see the bite marks on your neck a little better. Like a tattoo. Another one to your collection.
„Starving.”
masterlist ❤️
#geto smut#geto suguru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk geto#geto x reader#jujutsu geto#getou suguru x reader#jjk headcanons#jjk drabble#geto x you#jjk suguru#geto#geto suguru smut#jjk smut#Suguru#suguru smut#Geto fluff#jjk x reader smut
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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 1
summary ;; As Jake Sully's oldest daughter, you never see eye to eye with him, always challenging him and pushing his buttons to the limit. What happens when things go too far one day? [PART 2] pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; welcome to the labor of my daddy issues and my very own therapy. this fic is inspired by this one by @layonatanvi and I only wanted to borrow the running away from home to get an ikran idea/prompt! Please excuse my mistakes if you see any.
There’s a widespread belief among sky people that every first-born daughter is a direct copy of her father.
You listened in on your own father complaining to your mother about this privately one time; according to him, this was why you guys kept banging hammerheads like 'angtsìks.
Lo’ak was his troublemaker, yes, but you were the rebel pain in his ass, wouldn’t stop questioning one tiny simple step he made, never took anything seriously when he needed you to be on top of things hundred percent of the time... Even your younger brother knew boundaries after he was given the stink eye, but you hadn’t stopped testing him every single goddamn day after the sky people had come back.
His youngest son and oldest daughter were nearly identical in the speed they got him seeing red, but the similarities ended there. Lo’ak would go behind him to cause trouble, and you would do it right to his face, that fearlessness and defiance made you more dangerous than your brother in your father’s opinion.
His blood pressure skyrocketing was reserved for Lo’ak and the shenanigans he knew right away the boy was getting into, and you got his explosive anger the moment you would open your mouth to defy him — he couldn’t talk to you, a normal conversation even about your mother’s cooking wasn’t possible without you being passive-aggressive and things snowballing from there.
(“This is delicious Neytiri, thank you for the food. Sturmbeest?”
“Sturmbeest meat ran out like two weeks ago, father. You ask this everyday and mom answers the same everyday.”
Cue him reprimanding you for talking to him like that, you saying maybe he should greenlight a hunt soon to calm his nerves and promptly being sent to your room. It was Neteyam who’d saved some food for you that night.)
If only you would stop talking back to him and listen for once, he’d said, pacing in the tent with hands on hips like an agitated viperwolf as mother watched on, most likely tired from going through this loop for yet another day. You are the older sister to Lo’ak, Kiri and Tuk, why can’t you be a role model for them like Neteyam is?
(Mom had given him the flattest, “She is at the age for such behavior, Ma’Jake, we’ve talked about this. Let her be.”)
In your defense, he didn’t make sense sometimes, what harm was there in wanting him to explain the thought process behind his decisions?
Apparently you simply were prohibited from doing that to the Olo’eyktan.
But he was father, he was your family. Why did that have to be disrespect?
He wasn’t like this before.
A small part of you was aware this was you lashing out because you missed your father — the lighthearted rock in your life, the big shadow protecting you from the heat of the world, who knew how to smile and show his love before all of this. Now he was just the leader of the clan, the weight of the revered Toruk Makto on his shoulders made him a total stranger you didn’t recognize.
He barely ever called you sweetheart anymore, punishing you for being a brat, most likely. You tried to act like it didn’t hurt.
But it did. You missed him dearly when he was right in front of you. The rest of the family did, too, they just didn’t say it out loud the way you expressed through what you called standing up to him — in reality, it was a statement about the man he had become, father couldn’t read between the lines to understand.
Mom did.
She would always explain he did it out of love and worry, and his every move had a reason behind it after the scoldings ended. It was as if she saw right through the prickly exterior of her eldest daughter.
Her love wasn’t held back like his was, not shared like military MREs at decided moments in a day in between attacks, raids, meetings and duties. Hers were long touches, hugs, kisses on your temple, shared time and hunts together, her letting you ride on her ikran with her, the warmth of a meal and soft smiles; whilst his was randomly asking how you were after training and where you’ve been if he caught onto your absence sometimes. He didn’t have time for you or your siblings except for Tuktuk these days. That’s why you were now a mama’s girl.
Sooner or later, the breaking point was finally bound to arrive.
Yours did after a particularly heated-up fight about your rite of passage. You had had enough of father postponing it when Lo’ak, younger than you, had already gained his own ikran and gone through uniltaron. He was present in the tent while you were fussing and debating with your immovable mountain of a father only answering with single syllable responses, and his light snickers made you all the more aggressive. He got a strong jab from Kiri after a loud snort.
Kiri, you could get. She was built different from the start — got her mount earlier than anybody else, just walked up to it and asked. Besides, the girl wasn’t a dick about it like Lo’ak was.
“You aren’t ready yet,” father answered the more you asked him. You thought he'd say a different thing the hundredth time, but he didn't. “Your brother was.”
Lo’ak puffed his chest at that, desperate for a drop of recognition as always, and you could only roll your eyes. “So you think I’m weak? I’m not strong enough?”
Father sighed at the provocation. “That’s not what I’m saying. This and being ready are two different things.”
“How are they different? If I’m on top of my training, that means I’m ready.”
“Physically ready, and mentally ready are not the same.”
“How can I not be mentally ready, I’ve already seen what happens—”
“Enough!” He stood up, towering above you and leaning in slightly. Your younger brother had stopped smiling so quickly you almost let a laugh escape you, and father got agitated when he saw that, thinking you were making fun of him. “Some don’t return from the dream hunt. Do you understand? The strongest sometimes don’t return from that. Your mind needs to be strong.”
“And mine isn’t?”
He gave a slow exhale through his nose, not actually wanting to say it for some reason. “No it isn’t.”
“Why?”
There it is. Your signature phrase. ‘Why?’
And it made your father look above, asking silently for patience from Eywa as it always did.
“Ma’ite, why don’t we take a break, hm? Come walk with me,” your mom interrupted, taking your hand and standing next to you, your four fingers got enveloped in her larger, warmer grip, strong and insistent.
“No, I wanna hear it. What do you think makes me not ready?”
You insinuating that your father was entirely going off his own wrong opinion and not knowing any better set him off. You saw the change from ticked off to borderline on edge, but instead of giving into it, he turned his back on you and went back to cleaning his gun, movements choppy and harsh. “That immaturity for a start.”
And you hissed at him—actually hissed at him when none of your siblings would ever dare to talk back to him during a lecture.
The audible gasps, the holding of breaths, and the slow turn of your father’s head looking like he was going through confusion of reality upon being hit on the head had followed. His eyes narrowed and the lines of his eyebrows got gradually lower on his face, his form seemingly expanding in mass from building anger, spine slowly straightening after fully comprehending what you just did.
“I’m way past you giving me attitude missy,” his baritone and low voice was so steady that you’d rather him yell at you like usual, but he was scarily calm, pushing you to raise your chin righteously at him to show you weren’t bothered by him none, but your ears betrayed you by cowering flat and taut against your skull. “But you’re hissing at your father now? Hm? You think this right here is gonna get you the respect you think you deserve?”
“You don’t listen,” you said, ignoring your heart trashing away from how coldly father was to you. “Disrespect,” your fingers quoting in the air resulted only in making him angrier. Neteyam to his right, silent and observant the whole argument, was furiously shaking his head that the beads in his braids were clicking loudly. “is the only way you ever pay attention to anything anymore. See? Look how sharp you are right now. Mission accomplished, I guess.”
“Bro…” Lo’ak, frightened by the wide eyed glare father was giving you, weakly protested, but you knew he would never be able to interfere in the verbal struggle between you and father the way you did to his.
“You will go to your room,” father said between his teeth, “Do not let me see your face. I swear to Eywa—Neytiri, get her outta here.“
“Do you ever want to see our faces anymore, father?”
A beat.
Mom gasped your name in shock, grabbing your arm this time as if she wanted to drag you away.
All his fury froze away immediately. “What did you just say?”
You just stared at him.
“That’s enough,” your mother snapped at you, but you didn’t hold it against her, she was more worried about what would follow if this went on. “Come on, we’re leaving.”
“Okay.” Father slowly shook his head, the storm brewing right under his skin got you preparing for the impact, and all the kids flinched when he threw the unloaded gun back in the crate. “You know so much, don’t you? You’re smart, wise. Know better than Tsahik herself. Fine, you get your way. Go.”
You froze. “What?”
“Yeah, go. Get yourself an ikran.”
“Father—”
“Don’t father me. Go on. I’m not stopping you. Since you’re so ready and you’ll say just about anything to get what you want, who am I to get in your way, huh?”
But you didn’t want it to be like this. Iknimaya was supposed to be something exciting, prideful — a ceremony. He was saying it like you were being thrown out. Who was going to paint your face? Be proud of you?
“Why are you just standing there?” He poked your crushed ego further, confident in the fact that you wouldn't set one foot outside of the cave systems at this hour of the day. “Didn’t you want this?”
You didn’t want this.
“Dad, it’s the middle of the night,” Kiri said, appalled, not quite believing her ears.
“What does it matter?” He showed you in mock pride, up and down that you couldn’t stop the tears from stinging the corners of your eyes. “Mighty hunter here is ready.”
“Jake,” your mother warned in such a threatening tone that he stopped and shifted on his feet, almost uneasy.
“What? If she doesn’t want a father’s concern I’m not giving it to her.”
Like you weren’t standing right in front of him at all.
“Jake!”
That was the final straw. You wrenched your arm free from mom’s iron grip and screamed, “I hate you!” at the top of your lungs at him before storming off the tent.
His ears flattening was the last thing you paid attention to as everything became a blur because of tears swelling. Yeah, right. You wished you could hurt him, unfortunately he was too much of a wall for that. You bet he was scoffing at your declaration right now.
Your body thought faster than your brain did even when the emotions had you drowning under the current, deciding you were going to sneak off to the ikran rookery tonight. You knew he would send Neteyam after you — him barking, “Follow your sister,” at the boy right after you hid yourself between the rocks surrounding the tent was the confirmation of the hypothesis. He was to make sure you didn’t leave High Camp.
Everyone in your family knew your favorite hiding spot to cool off, Neteyam of course was heading there automatically, and it was the headstart you needed to get a move on.
Fine. You would complete your iknimaya yourself without anybody’s support, as if these things had any value anymore with how military he’d conditioned the clan to be. You were going to make him eat his words for humiliating you.
The muffled of father drifting off flared up your determination as you soundlessly sneaked off. "Jesus, I've spoiled her too much..."
#dad!jake x daughter!reader#dad!jake sully x reader#jake sully x reader#jake sully x daughter!reader#dad!jake sully x daughter!reader#sully family x reader#mom!neytiri x reader#neteyam x sister!reader#neytiri x daughter!reader#lo'ak x sister!reader#kiri x sister!reader#irma: 📝#📖: light
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hi hi! can I please have a hazbin crew x child reader that died really young (7-8) but is super duper sweet and like polite and stuff and they all wonder how the heck this child ended up in hell but don't ask (bc i feel like it might be rude to ask ppl why their in hell lol) and then in a conversation the reader just casually mentions how their a serial killer and would lure people in and then kill them. oneshot preferably but whatever you want
You'd been at the hotel for two months now. Despite that, everyone had basically become parental figures to you. You were very sweet and easy to get along with so it was only natural.
Today you were playing two truths and a lie for the bonding exercise. It was going pretty normal and there had been only a few minor surprises. That was until you spoke.
"Okay so I've been in hell for 3 years, I read in my free time, and I used to kill people when I was alive." You said innocently.
Mostly everyone had a shocked expression on their face besides Alastor and Niffty but that was to be expected.
"It-it has to be to be the last one right?" Charlie said, which earned a few murmurs of agreement.
"I would have to disagree." Alastor spoke up, "I recall you saying you arrived here last year."
You nodded and clapped, "Yes that is correct!" The silence after you spoke was deafening. "...What? I don't do it anymore, even if I did I wouldn't hurt y'all!"
"We... uh- Angel it's your turn now!" Charlie said.
"Oh! I like to do drag, my birthday is September 9th and I am more than a little scared of y/n now."
"Why would you be scared- but Angel, I thought your birthday was April 1st?" You said you were confused.
"Yep."
a/n: sorry this is short I didn't have many ideas.
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Eddie hates it when people don’t answer his calls. He hates it with passion.
It reminds him of too many things. It reminds him of manhunts and abandoned sheds, and no one on the other side of the line. It reminds him of cold, clammy hands, of hunger, of fear. Breaking bones and eldritch horrors he’d thought existed solely in cheap movies, not in real life, until he was brutally made aware of the fact that when people say everything’s possible, everything is possible.
Every time someone doesn’t answer the phone when he calls, panic starts to boil inside his veins and his brain immediately makes at least a dozen painful scenarios for him to dwell on. He knows that technically, they just don’t know that it’s him. But it doesn’t make him worry any less, so everyone’s learned to respect the rule. They just have to pick up. No matter what. Or he’ll freak out, drop everything he’s doing and come unexpectedly to check if everything’s alright.
There hasn’t been a single situation when things were actually bad—people go get groceries, take solid, deep naps, or they’re simply too lazy to pick up sometimes—but he always does that. Always.
Especially if it’s Steve who doesn’t answer. What if he fell? Or someone mugged him? Or he got into a fight? This brain can’t take any more damage. What if he’s in the hospital now, waiting to be anesthetized before surgery, and no one’s called Eddie yet, because to society they’re just some dudes living together?
There are too many options. Eddie doesn’t like taking chances anymore, so he slaps the “I’ll be back in a few” sign on the door, closes the shop and speeds through the town like he has nothing to lose. (And it’s quite stupid, because he has too many things to lose now—but he’s allowed to freak out once in a while.)
When he gets there and sees Steve pacing and gesturing animatedly in front of the window of their tiny but awfully cluttered kitchen, he finds out exactly what it means to have the whole world on your shoulders. Or, rather, to be finally freed from the pressure it creates.
It’s okay. It’s just a stupid phone call. It wasn’t even important, anyway.
Despite that, he takes his helmet off. Won’t hurt to remind Steve of the rule. And maybe kiss his pretty face a little while he’s here.
He doesn’t even have to enter their apartment to know that Steve’s not alone. First off – if Steve’s pacing and rambling, an anxious trait he’s picked up from Robin, wasn’t a hint enough – it’s loud. Their paper walls can barely hold back a normal conversation, let alone something resemblant of a heated discussion. Honestly, Eddie has no idea how their neighbors can stand them sometimes, with his metal, their late-night conversations and non-conversations alike, with the kids visiting so often. Although Steve is optimistic (they have some lovely neighbors, like sweet Gran Fran, but don’t ever let Eddie express his opinions about that old hag from across the hallway, Miss Hermans), he’s still waiting for that complaint to be filed.
Second, he smells coffee. Steve never makes coffee for just himself.
Eddie opens the door gingerly, remembering how easy it is to completely unhinge them by accident, and is about to scream something about getting home, when none other than Dustin Henderson cuts him off with a shriek.
“—because it’s actually pathetic, that’s why! Get a grip, man, just do it!”
“Oh, it’s so easy for you to say, because you’ve never actually tried—”
“And maybe I never will! If you won’t do it, how can I learn how to do it myself? You know that you guys are the closest thing to father figures!”
“Hey, don’t make it about yourself for once, maybe? Some humility?”
Dustin’s quiet for a second, but Eddie knows he’s not about to admit full defeat. “Yes, sorry,” he chokes out, finally. “But you’ve tried so many times, you should know that it doesn’t get any easier on another try. Just do it, it doesn’t matter how.”
“It does, though! To me, it—it does. It matters,” Steve mumbles back, and Eddie can picture his face in perfect detail. It’s Steve’s small voice, which means he’s worried about something, even though his worry doesn’t make any sense in everyone else’s eyes. He’s unsure: his brows are pinched, lips pursed, stare skittering around the room, never focusing on anything. Dustin knows this face too, because his tone gets softer.
“Okay, then walk me through it.”
“What?”
“Walk me through it. You’ll know what you want, how you want it, when and where, and it’ll be easier when you try it next time.”
“Dustin, I really don’t—I’m not sure it can get easier, ever.”
“Because you’re scared.”
Steve sighs deeply before he responds. “Yes. Because I’m scared.”
“It’s been eight years, Steve. What are you scared of?” Dustin’s voice is gentle, curious. He’s not judging, he genuinely wants to know the reasons, and so does Eddie. He leans against the wall, trying to sneak a peek of the kitchen unsuccessfully, and listens. A while passes before Steve speaks again.
“I think—There are so many things I’m afraid of. But the main one… It’s still rejection. Not being enough. Because it’s not like it’s anything formal, right? It’s only a promise, and if it ends up turned down…”
Chair legs scrape the floor and Eddie can hear two soft slaps – hands on shoulders, probably.
“Steve Harrington. Calm down. You know it’s not going to happen—no, don’t argue. I know it, and this alone should be enough. You are an amazing person. You’re great with people, you’re bright, you’re sweet, caring, you have so many talents. I love you, Steve,” the pause that follows is filled with something so heavy there’s a shift in the air. It has a different smell now. A little salty, a little warm. “And he loves you. More than you can imagine, probably. So just pop the question, Steve. And don’t back out with some stupid excuse like this morning.”
“Pop the question,” Steve says, his voice firm, only a little timid. “Yes, I think—I think I can do that.”
Eddie bounces off the wall and takes quiet, slow steps backwards. He can’t hear anything else, even though the conversation continues. He bites his tongue hard enough to make it bleed a little. A coppery taste floods his mouth as he closes the door.
Oh, it’s just so, so stupid. He would have said yes. Each and every time, he would have said yes.
*
Later that day, when they’re lying in bed together, with the sheets rumpled, their bodies warm and mushy from the nap, with Eddie’s lips on Steve’s and Steve’s hands in Eddie’s hair, Eddie remembers the overheard conversation.
Well, no. That’s a lie. Because he hasn’t stopped thinking about it ever since.
Every single second of what, at first, seemed to be yet another annoying Monday, has been filled with reverie and anticipation. Dustin’s right – Eddie loves Steve. He loves him enough to risk hell for him, enough to argue with anyone who’s in any way mean to him. Enough to take his hand and say “You don’t have to be afraid when I’m with you”, even though Eddie’s the biggest coward in the whole wide world.
Eddie loves him. Loves his goofy smiles and scrunched happy faces, loves his moles and the uneven mustache he grows out sometimes when he’s bored. Eddie loves how gentle Steve is, how thoughtful and kind-hearted he is. How he helps Gran Fran replant her flowers each month with more enthusiasm than Eddie’s ever shown to anyone. How he talks to children, how much respect he has for those undermined by everyone else.
Eddie loves how he’s learned to stand up for himself. He’s proud of Steve, of how much he’s grown, of how he knows how to express what he needs and what he wants now. Eddie’s loved him for ages, maybe even longer than he’s aware of, but every single significant and insignificant change in Steve’s behavior and point of view makes him fall a little bit harder, every time. In any shape, in any form, there’s one constant in Eddie’s life: his love for Steve.
He likes to think that they do that to each other, both of them. That they help each other through inevitable changes, painful regressions and euphoric victories alike. He likes to think that together, they make one, healthy, living being – and apart they’re good, because they’ve grown to be good people thanks to the connections they’ve made overall. He likes this idea of just being good, together and apart. And he loves Steve for giving him the opportunity to be just that.
Eddie wants it to last. Desperately, intensely, madly. He wants it to last and he needs it to keep happening – he knows that, and he knows he has the capacity to do that. To be there, to stay. His hands touch Steve’s thigh, not in the slightest covered by those silly Hawkins Tigers shorts he’s kept, then they touch Steve’s soft, scarred belly, then they touch his chest, where his heart is beating steadily and peacefully, and he keeps kissing him and Steve keeps clingling back to him, and Eddie’s so sure.
He wants this. He wants to experience growing old together, he wants them to get all wrinkly and bald together, he wants the fights over who gets the most comfortable chair in their grandkids’ living room. He wants them to experience the highs and the lows of the family that they already have, and the one they’re going to build someday.
Eddie wants this. He wants Steve. The whole deal; the promised forever. And he doesn’t want to wait another second.
“Steve,” Eddie says, cutting the kiss short so suddenly Steve actually pulls him closer, chasing after the warmth of his lips. “I’m saying yes.”
“Mm. Okay,” he mumbles back, too kiss- and sleep-hazy to catch Eddie’s intention right away. He tries to bump their noses together—which is adorable, really, but Eddie can’t let him hijack and self-sabotage this proposal too.
“No, Steve,” he squeezes Steve’s side until he looks at him properly. “I love you. I’m saying yes.”
In awe, Eddie watches as Steve’s face goes through confusion, true bewilderment, a bit of fear and fleeting exhilaration, to finally settle on disbelief.
“How did you—”
Eddie laughs a little at that. “I called and you didn’t pick up.” Steve makes a little oh sound, already looking like a kicked puppy. “But it’s okay, doesn’t matter, not the point,” Eddie jumps in, anticipating an unnecessary apology. “The point is, I love you, and I’m saying yes.”
Steve stares at him for a long second, his eyes wide and earnest. His fingers slide from Eddie’s hair to finally settle on both of his cheeks, cradling them lovingly. Eddie kinda wants to cry.
“You’ll marry me?” Steve asks, incredulous, his voice only a bit louder than a whisper. The way he accentuates the word “marry” gives yet another layer of meaning to such a simple question. You’ll love me? Forever?
“I’ll marry you,” he replies without hesitation. “You’ll marry me?” You’ll love me? With my flaws?
“I’ll marry you,” Steve says back. Then he grins with his eyes glistening in the bedside light, and squishes Eddie’s cheeks so hard it squeezes the unshed tear right from his eye. “We’ll get married!”
Steve giggles happily, and Eddie laughs with him. There’s so much joy inside him—them, the whole room seems to get bigger. “We will,” he adds through a smile, already peppering his fiancé’s face with kisses.
“Oh gosh, I have to call Robin,” Steve manages through his giggles and Eddie loves him so much. “And Dustin!”
So, so much.
#steve harrignton#eddie munson#steddie#dustin henderson#stranger things#st4 fanfic#i've had SUCH a shit and busy month. i'm using them to heal myself lol#i wanted to make them so pathetically in love i accidentally made my eyes fall out of my skull bc of the cheesiness#proposal au#hehe#short and sweet#excuse me if i got too silly. my hand slipped
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Tattoos for troubled minds | n romanoff
Summary: Natasha struggles to trust anyone when it comes to touching her body. But that becomes rather difficult when a tattoo idea comes into her mind that she just can’t shake
Warnings: mentions of scars, tattoo needles, slight internalised homophobia
wc: 3.6k
note: I don’t actually have tattoos (despite wanting one so badly) so this is probably really inaccurate. I do apologise if this doesn’t make sense. also, I hate this so much but the guilt of not posting is eating me alive so I’m sorry
-⧗-
Natasha was a quiet soul. She kept to herself, usually sitting at her own table in the Shield cafeteria, eyes focused on her plate of food as she ate quickly, just wanting to get out of there. None of the other agents dared make conversation with her, too spooked by her fighting skills to approach. But that didn’t bother her. Her hyper independence made her hesitant to trust people.
Clint was the only one she spoke to outside of working hours. They weren’t exactly friends, but she tolerated him enough to flash a small smile if she saw him in the hallways or feel slightly relaxed if they were paired for missions together.
And he liked her too, especially since her first words had been a jab at his choice of weapon.
“Bow and arrow? What did you do, get your training in a forest?”
But he didn’t take offense to it. After all, he’d made the call to save her and she owed him her life. Which is how, two years later, she was sprawled on his couch, chewing on take out pizza for the second time that week with a scowl.
“I think I want a tattoo.”
Clint frowned at her, wondering where her brain cells had disappeared to. “What?”
“You know, the permanent drawing-“
“Yes I know what a tattoo is Tasha,” he rolled his eyes at her teasing smirk, already over her sarcasm. “But you know it’s a bad idea for spies to have unique markings like that.”
Natasha shrugged, tugging up her sleeve to reveal a strange shaped scar across her bicep. “I’d say I’ve got enough of those naturally. And it would be hidden on my ribs or something.”
Clint just shook his head and turned back to his food. He was used to Natasha’s odd comments and her tattoo phase probably wouldn’t last in his eyes. Just like her ‘wanting to be blonde’ phase didn’t.
But it didn’t end. A month later and Natasha had fallen down the rabbit hole that was tattoo designs on pinterest, courtesy of a fellow agent who introduced her to the app. She didn’t understand it at first, but now it was 3am and her tablet screen was still glaring bright in her face, a plethora of images scattered across her screen.
She saved a couple to a board, now set on design and placement, before placing it to one side with a grin on her face. Natasha climbed out of bed and padded over to her mirror, pulling up her shirt and smiling softly to herself. But the dim lamplight made her scars glisten and she caught herself, a sudden feeling of repulsion shuddering through her body. She looked like a freak and no tattoo artist would want to go near that. Her scars weren’t normal and she wasn’t ready for the questions yet.
Tears glazed her eyes over and her arms snaked across her stomach, her reflection in the mirror now blurry. Even as the salty tears dripped down her cheeks and soaked the collar of her shirt, she didn’t step away, too engrossed with how disgusting she felt in her body.
That stubborn hope that the redroom failed to squash out had ignited inside her once more, except this time she just wanted to laugh at it. Natasha would never be normal. She was what they’d made her into, and a tattoo was never going to change that.
Clint noticed the change in her demeanor when she sat down at breakfast. Natasha barely engaged in her usual small talk, more focused on her food in front of her.
“Did you do anymore tattoo research yesterday?” He asked, knowing that would catch her attention. But instead of the usual spark, she remained dejected, stirring her yogurt half heartedly.
“Yeah,” came her response, albeit rather forced.
“There’s probably a lot of places in DC that would kill to tattoo a shield agent.” Nat shot him a look. “Just saying!”
“Sure. But I don’t think I can anymore.”
Clint looked at her with a frown. “Why not?”
Natasha just looked down and tugged at her sleeve, suddenly feeling exposed in her tight fitting suit. The image in the mirror from last night came into her mind and she pushed her food away, no longer hoodie. And beside that, she didn’t trust people she worked with, so how would she trust a complete stranger to add something permanent on her body? Getting a tattoo would be nothing but a dream for her, she knew that, but it still crushed her.
Clint studied his best friend for a moment in thought, before he placed his hand gently on her arm. “I might know someone who can help.” Natasha looked up, now interested. Her face was still stony but Clint knew she was excited. “A friend of Laura’s, we helped her out even before you came here.”
“An agent?” Clint hadn’t mentioned anyone like that before and it confused Natasha.
But Clint shook his head. “No, nothing like that. She came to Laura and I when she was a teenager and had nowhere else to go. And you know my wife-“
“Can’t let anyone suffer,” Natasha finished for him, warmth spreading in her stomach at the thought of the soft woman she’d grown to adore. Laura really did have the biggest heart out of everyone.
“Exactly that. Y/n was fourteen, I think, parents kicked her out of the house. How she got to ours, I’ll never know, but she just appeared on the doorstep one night and Laura melted at the sight of her.” Clint’s expression softened at the memory. “But anyway, what I’m saying is that she’s a tattoo artist. She’s got trust issues just like you and I think she’ll help.”
Natasha scowled at the last part, wanting to protest his comment. But she knew he was right; her trust issues were what got her into this mess in the first place.
“But she’s a kid?”
“No, almost the same age as you,” Clint said with a laugh. “You’ll like her, but she can be a little scary.”
“Scarier than me?”
Clint smirked. “Oh, you’d be surprised. That glare of hers rivals yours.” This vague description intrigued Natasha and Clint could see the cogs turning in her mind. “She knows what we do and she’s seen my scars. Trust me, they won’t put her off.”
Natasha’s head shot up, staring at her best friend with confusion. Was she that easy to read? Or did he just know her too well?
~~~
With the news of her favourite girls coming back home, Laura had been in a frenzy of cleaning and preparing. Clint had texted to say he was only minutes away so she left the dishes to soak and headed to the porch, anxiously staring at the track beside their house as she waited.
Anyone would have thought she was married to Natasha over Clint by the difference in reactions she gave them. Sure, Clint got a kiss and a hug, but Natasha truly got the special treatment, with Laura scanning her to make sure she wasn’t injured and quizzing her about how she was. Poor Clint was left to grab their bags as the women disappeared into the farmhouse.
Tea was poured and snacks were eaten in the cosy kitchen before the doorbell rang and Laura excused herself, leaving an anxious Natasha on her own for a moment. Muffled voices could be heard but she tried to go against her instincts of listening in and instead busied herself with a loose thread on the tablecloth. She heard footsteps approaching and turned in her chair, ignoring the way her heart thumped loudly in her chest.
The woman who walked in the kitchen doorway was stunning, Natasha couldn’t deny it, and her eyes darted to the patchwork of tattoos that littered her exposed arms. Their eyes met, and Natasha swore she could see the walls up in the other woman’s mind. But it didn’t scare her off. No. It brought her a weird sense of comfort and her body started to relax.
Clad in a black cropped tank and black cargo pants, Y/n hesitated in the doorway, duffle bag slung over her shoulder hitting the wall gently. Laura appeared behind her, gentle hands falling to her shoulders.
“Y/n, this is Natasha, the one I told you about.” The y/h/c girl made no effort to move. “She’s Clint’s partner.” Clearly not much of a talker, Y/n just nodded, not hiding the fact she was scanning Natasha from head to toe. She didn’t trust strangers, but she trusted Laura and Clint who seemed to love Natasha. So maybe she wasn’t a threat.
“Hi, you can call me Nat if you want.” No one called her Nat except Laura, but it was a feeble attempt to make the atmosphere more comfortable. Another nod came but Laura smiled.
“Do you want to go set up? All of your stuff is still exactly where you left it,” Laura addressed Y/n who adjusted the grip on her bag and disappeared down the hall without a word. Natasha’s eyebrows raised at Laura who watched her go, a fond look in her eyes. “She does speak, I promise.”
Natasha shook her head, brushing her off. “It’s fine, don’t worry. I can tell you care about her a lot.”
“She’s like a daughter to me, kind of like you are.” Natasha’s cheeks flushed at that. “She doesn’t have anyone except us, so I worry. She’s a real sweetheart though, she’s just been through a lot. Kind of like someone else I know.”
“I’ll be kind, don’t worry.”
Laura couldn’t help but smile as she stirred her tea. “Oh I know. She already likes you, you don’t need to worry about that.”
Natasha let out a sigh and started to play with the hem of her zip up jacket. It suddenly felt real, the whole tattoo thing. And whilst she weirdly trusted Y/n, it didn’t help ease her nerves any less.
The redhead sensed a new presence before she spotted her, standing in the doorway just like she was before.
“Ready when you are, Nat.” Her voice was slightly raspy from lack of use and she spoke quietly, almost as if she was scared she’d get into trouble. Natasha smiled softly at the sound of her nickname and squeezed Laura’s hand before she followed the y/h/c girl down the hallway of the house she considered her second home.
Clint’s office had been turned into a makeshift tattoo studio with all new equipment and furniture decorating the small space. The tattoo bed had a fresh paper layer on top and Y/n gestured for Natasha to take a seat.
“Ok, do you have an idea of what you want? And where?” Y/n sat down at a small table and picked up her pen before looking at Natasha expectantly.
“I’ve got a couple of reference pictures on my phone.” The small device was handed over and Y/n swiped between them, nodding in approval before setting it down. “The last one is just for placement ideas.”
“I’ll work up a sketch and you can tell me what needs changing.” Luckily Natasha’s design was incredibly simple and it didn’t take long for Y/n to hold up her page.
Natasha slid off the bed and slowly walked over, not wanting to startle the skittish girl. But Y/n just moved over, clearly welcoming the redhead into her space.
“I love that a lot,” Natasha praised, studying the simple lines. “But maybe it could be a bit smaller.”
“I can scale it down when I make the stencil, no problem. But is the design alright? Remember, it is permanent so I want you to be completely happy with it.”
Natasha studied it for a moment, a smile tugging at her lips as she imagined it on her body. Y/n had talent, anyone could see that even from such a simple drawing, and Natasha nodded before she slid the notebook back to her.
“I love it, I really do.”
Y/n nodded, grabbing her stencil paper from a drawer by her leg. She wordlessly began making the stencil and Natasha took this as her cue to return to her seat. She peered around the room, admiring a few pictures that were on the walls. Incredibly complicated tattoos which she guessed Y/n had done.
The young girl sketching away in the corner thoroughly interested her and something inside Natasha was drawn in. She wanted to get to know her because aside from the shy and hesitant exterior she was effortlessly cool and seemed sweet. Maybe Y/n could be the start of Natasha’s project to make friends.
“If you lie back on the seat and lift your shirt, we can make sure this is exactly how you want it before I start.”
Natasha took a deep breath and slowly lifted her shirt and lowered the waistband of her sweatpants so her hip bone was exposed. She shivered despite the room being warm, fully aware that her nastiest scar was on full display on her lower stomach.
But Y/n didn’t care. Or at least she didn’t make it obvious if it bothered her. “Is it ok if I touch your hip?” She asked, looking Natasha straight in the eyes. The redhead almost melted at her words, not used to ever being asked that question.
“Of course, do what you need.” Y/n’s fingers were soft and delicate as she placed the stencil on Natasha’s skin. She didn’t touch anywhere she didn’t need to and worked quickly, making sure it was fully stuck down before stepping back to allow Natasha to step over to the mirror.
Although it wasn’t permanent, Natasha’s heart was racing as she saw the way the black ink stood out against her pale skin. The symbol was small but perfect in her eyes, and she turned back to Y/n with a grin.
“It’s perfect!”
“Then I’ll get started.”
Due to the design being so small, it took no more than fifteen minutes for Y/n to complete. Her hand was incredibly steady and Natasha’s pain tolerance was so high she barely felt it. The room was silent aside from the faint buzzing, no conversation stemming from either woman. Questions spiralled around Natasha’s head but she knew this wasn’t the place to ask them.
Completely lost in her head, Natasha failed to notice the silence or the fact that her hip bone was no longer burning. Y/n kept working, wiping away the excess ink and making sure she hadn’t missed a spot. But it was perfect, as usual, and she gently tapped Nat on the thigh to snap her out of her head.
“You’re now free to look.”
Natasha grinned and hopped off the bed, holding up her shirt again as she looked in the mirror. Tears almost sprung to her eyes as she admired the finished product, and they probably would have tumbled down her cheeks if she had been alone.
A small spider sat on the front of her hip, legs slightly bent. It looked so delicate on her skin and for the first time in her entire life, Natasha actually liked looking at herself in the mirror.
“It’s so beautiful,” she began to ramble, unable to tear her eyes away. “You’ve got real talent Y/n, I can’t thank you enough. It’s so perfect.”
Y/n blushed and couldn’t stop the smile that graced her lips, catching Natasha’s eyes in the mirror and making the redhead freeze.
Her smile.
The young woman hadn’t smiled the entire time she’d arrived, but seeing her now was like a breath of fresh air. Smiling looked so good on her and Natash couldn’t get enough.
“If you want to show Laura, you can, but you’ll need to come back so I can wrap it safely.” Natasha glanced at her new addition and nodded, but hesitated once she was by the door.
“I think you should come too. The artist and her artwork.” Natasha spoke with a smirk and Y/n couldn’t ever imagine saying no to that woman. So she nodded again, her usual response, and meekly followed her back down the hall, pulling off her gloves as she walked.
Laura was already waiting for them in the kitchen and she placed her reading glasses in her hair to get a good look at Natasha who still hadn’t dropped her shirt down. She’d never seen the Russian with such a wide grin before, her usual collected expression completely out of the window.
“It looks beautiful, Nat, truly. You did such a good job Y/n.”
“You never told me how talented she is!” Natasha stepped to the side to allow Y/n to come forward, but the humble woman stayed where she was, already hating the attention. She didn’t see her art as talent, more like a form of escapism. But it made people happy and that was all she wanted.
“I wanted you to see for yourself,” Laura replied. “And besides, she never believes me when I tell her how good she is.”
“You’re really easy to tattoo. You don’t squirm or cry like other people do, so really I should be thanking you.” Laura was taken aback by Y/n’s comment, not used to more than three words coming out of the girl’s mouth. But the more she observed her, the more she saw her change. The darkness she’d noticed since Y/n was a teenager had lifted a little and she seemed a lot less guarded, looking over at Natasha with a soft expression.
And Natasha looked back at her just the same, purely in awe of how gentle she was. As Y/n gestured for them to return to the office and offered to hold Nat’s shirt, Laura felt like squealing like a child.
Two of her favourite people in the world had found each other and, despite both being so broken and fragile, fit together so perfectly it was like they were made for each other.
Natasha was strong enough and sure of herself enough for the both of them, and Y/n treated her with such delicacy and care that it slowly broke away Natasha’s trust issues and allowed her to open up. And Natasha’s protective nature came out around the other woman, wanting to keep her safe from the world.
With a quick word about going to show Clint, Natasha disappeared into the front yard with her newly wrapped hip, leaving Y/n to find Laura again. The older woman welcomed her with a hug and pulled a chair close to her own.
“You like her, don’t you?”
Y/n kept her gaze on the crossword Laura was doing, not wanting her eyes to give her away if she looked up. “She’s nice.”
“Hey,” Laura said softly, carefully taking Y/n’s hand in her own. She didn’t miss the way she flinched but unfortunately she was used to that by now. “You’re not back there. You’re allowed to like her if that’s what you want and feel. She’s a good person, but so are you, you don’t need to be scared.”
Y/n’s eyes followed where their hands were clasped up to Laura’s face, trying to find any hints that showed she was lying. But all that came back was the soft and caring face she’d grown to love, one that didn’t lie to her and didn’t hate her for who she was.
“I don’t like her like that.” Call her a hypocrite for lying, but Y/n had her reasons. Loving a woman was still unnatural in her eyes, despite her contrasting feelings that longed for it.
“Y/n…” Laura’s ‘mom’ tone was one she was used to and she knew she was caught out. “I’m not asking you to tell me now, but you deserve happiness, as does she. And I haven’t seen either of you that relaxed in a really long time. So please don’t push her away.”
Y/n didn’t know what to think. How could she? Her whole life had centred around hating who she was, so how could anyone ever like her like that? It messed with her head and Laura could see that.
But what was Natasha if not a life saver. She came strolling into the kitchen, her tshirt now tucked up into the band of her sports bra to allow her tattoo to be on full display. Y/n smiled slightly at the sight.
Sinking down into the chair beside her, Natasha noticed the clasped hands of the women and wondered what she’d interrupted. But that wasn’t her place to ask, so she turned to Y/n.
“How can I pay you? How much do you charge?”
Y/n shook her head frantically, pulling her hand away from Laura. “Nothing, honestly. You’re a friend, it’s no big deal.”
“Absolutely not. If you won’t take money, at least let me repay you another way.”
“Nat-“
“Dinner? How about you let me take you to dinner next week. You’re from the city, right?” Y/n nodded, her brows creasing. She turned to Laura for help but the older woman just smiled widely and nodded, giving her as much non verbal encouragement as she could. “Please, Y/n?”
She’d said yes before she could even process what was going on. After all, they were just friends going to dinner. People in the movies that she’d seen did it, so she could too.
What was so wrong with that?
#natasha romanoff#fanfic#marvel#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x female reader#natasha romanoff fluff#tattoos#clint barton
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What would the tfp autobots (your pick) reactions would be if their neutral NB cybertonian ally goes, "Oh? You didn't know? I have a Conjux now :)" and brings the motherfucker predaking.
But hey! Atleast the predacon is a green flag. The man would do anything for the reader, respects them, and is utterly smitten. At that point the autobots wouldn't have to worry about him anymore since reader is their ally
This has been rotting in my inbox for so long,, anon if you see this thank you for your patience
TFP Preadaking with a Neutral S/O
Under the cut :)
Setting this after the war/the return to Cybertron
Assuming you didn't fight in the war, you're probably the most normal person he knows. You're probably the most normal person on Cybertron at this point. The others don't think much of it when you start spending more and more time out by yourself- there's a lot to take in now that the war is over and cybertron is so different
Your little adventures start at a few hours, then it's half a day, and before long you're gone for days at at time. That's when they start asking questions
Where have you been going? What could possibly be so important that you go missing for days at a time when there is- what do you mean you met somebody?
Having to explain that yes you met somebody and yes they're on Cybertron and well you don't know if it's a good idea if they all met him. It's all very "he goes to a different school you don't know him"
They eventually get you to agree and when you actually bring him around the Autobots are.. well they sure are there and that sure is a guy you've brought home
Predakind, to his credit, is on his best behavior. He's standing behind you (a respectable distance away from them) as you talk the others out of shooting him then and there
He doesn't stay long, much to your disappointment. A few conversations with both sides reveals their past history, leaving you caught in the middle.
The overall consensus on the Autobot side is "you're an adult, we can't stop you but it's also a really bad idea-"
Ratchet would be the most understanding- which isn't saying much. He's upset but he also knows you don't have the same feelings towards Predaking as he and the other Autobots do- to you, he's just some guy you met. While he makes his many grievances known, he also makes it clear that if anything happens you'll still have people supporting you
Magnus is.. conflicted. On one hand, part of him is glad that there's some sense of normalcy for somebody- a hope that things will be okay. On the other hand, he doesn't have an other hand
He doesn't count as an Autobot but Knockout would warn you against the predacon, calling him things like dangerous and a brute while also trying to dig any gossip out of you. Will begrudgingly make sure you're polished and shiny before you go out if you ask him for help. Very "you're going out dress like that?"
Once they get more familiar with the idea, Predaking starts making the occasional appearance
At first it's just flying by overhead, letting you know he's still around even if you haven't been able to see each other much lately. Then it's coming to meet you when you've got plans and then he's making very awkward small talk with Bulkhead while he waits for you to come out
Everybody starts to relax a bit when they see just how good he is to you. This hulking beast of a robot, built for fighting and dragged into a time not meant for him, bending to take your hand and kiss your knuckles whenever he sees you. How you never come back with a so much as a scratch on your pain and only with good things to say
He gets some serious side-eye when he enters the base for the first time, and everybody is a bit tense, but it (thankfully) all goes well
He's eventually asked to help with some repairs or some mundane task and- while somewhat reluctant- he complies. For you, of course, in an attempt to make life just a little bit easier
It's a very, very slow journey to having both your partner and the Autobots start to build even a semblance of trust, but you're willing to put in the work and Predaking is willing to put in the work for you
#cloud writes#maccadam#transformers#transformers prime#tfp#tfp x reader#transformers x reader#transformers headcanon#transformers headcanons#predaking#tfp predaking#predaking x reader
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