#i saw one. one wolf spider in my room. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

qwimblenorrisstan · 1 month ago

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Found | 141 & Reader

Summary: When you’re introduced to your new foster parents, a bear hybrid, harpy, werewolf and wraith, four big scary men, you’re not sure about how things are going to turn out. Your first day with them turns out more okay than you expected.

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warnings: lotta anxiety, reader is very quiet (sorta non-verbal?), descriptions of sharp teeth, scars, sharp claws, flashbacks (trauma), boundaries being put down (gently), BIG FAT SPIDER

A/N: so this happened…hope you enjoy this word vomit i spewed onto my google doc, and plsss keep the lovely requests coming, I love them<3

Requests are open!

Masterlist | Next

The front door shut, and the social worker left, leaving you alone with all these tall, strong men who now just stared at you. You stood near the door, backpack over your shoulder, tense as if ready to bolt at the slightest thing.

The men seemed to notice this, the bear hybrid and the harpy exchanging glances, before the former slowly approached you, taking note of how you kept your feet angled to the door, a sure sign you were ready to run. He didn’t blame you. The past children they had fostered had been the same at first, timid, shy, spooking easily. You just seemed to have a worse case of it.

He stopped about a foot in front of you, slowly getting on one of his knees to be almost at eye level with you. The air felt suffocatingly thick. You returned his level gaze with a wary, untrusting one, like a wild animal’s.

“I’m John,”

He spoke. His voice felt like a Sunday night bonfire, the whiskers of a cat, and warm ashes still flickering red. It was a bit comforting, and you wondered why until you saw the way his chest was shaking just a little bit.

He was purring.

You hadn’t even known bear hybrids could purr, but as soon as you realized that, you were back on edge. He knew that even if you were fully human, your body would still relax in response to most forms of purring. He was essentially using your body’s natural responses against you.

“And you are?”

He then asked, bright blue eyes watching you. Observing. All of them were, you could feel it. Especially the maybe-wraith, you could practically feel his eyes digging holes into you.

“Y/N.”

You replied. Your voice shook despite your best efforts to keep it level and calm despite the storm of emotions you were experiencing.

You watched as the werewolf almost lunged forward, stopped only by the wraith, who placed one hand on his shoulder, shaking his head, and the wolf let out a low sound that looked like a whine, ears flattening, but the wraith didn’t budge. Strange.

John nodded, getting back up off of his one knee, gesturing to each other members of the pack one by one, the harpy was first.

“This here is Kyle,”

Kyle gave a gentle smile, eyes full of what seemed like empathy for how uncomfortable he must know you are. They probably knew every single thing you were feeling, considering a hybrid’s insanely good sense of smell. His feathery wings puffed up, then resettled in a matter of seconds.

“Here’s Johnny, but we call ‘im Soap.”

The werewolf. You didn’t know why he was nicknamed ‘Soap’, and you didn’t want to know, either. He gave a sheepish smile, pearly whites gleaming.

“And we’ve got Simon, our Ghost.”

The wraith. He gave a small nod, which looking back, was more like a jerk of his head. His eyes were a dark chocolate brown.

You quickly decided that Kyle was your favorite, for now. John was a close second, and Johnny and Simon were on an equal level.

“Kyle, take ‘er to the room while me and the lads have a chat.”

John said, gesturing you over to Kyle, who waved you over, leading you out of the main living room area, and down a hallway to the right. You dragged your feet, curious to hear what John was having a ‘chat’ with the other boys about.

“…need to quit chompin’ at the bit, Soap, making the girl nervous.”

“Cannae help it, she’s so small—“

“You’d better help it, ‘fore I do for you, Johnny.”

The conversation continued, Kyle glancing back, noticing you lingering back, raising a brow with a little knowing smirk.

“C’mon, nosy. We spent a good few hours putting this room together for you.”

Cheeks heating slightly at being called out, you picked up the pace, beat-up sneakers padding against the wooden floor as you followed the large harpy, observing his feathers, most of them being long, a shade of honey brown fading into a warm blonde, shining under the light, shifting into different shades when you changed the angle you were looking at them from. The shorter feathers looked fluffier like they were just growing in.

You saw a pin feather on his right wing, sandwiched between other feathers.

Unable to resist the temptation, you reached for it, fingers gently enclosing on the crackly, thin casing around the feather, pulling, only for his wings to twitch as he whirled, startling both of you, as you held what had been of the pin feather in your hand.

Both of you stood still for a moment before he must’ve realized what happened, letting out a huff of laughter with an amused sigh. His hand reached out, giving you a little pat on the head.

“Thanks, kid. Just ask next time, yeah? My wings are sensitive.”

He said, and you nodded, shock wearing off right as a voice came from down the hallway.

“Everything alright?”

Sounded like John.

“Yup, just having a grooming session.”

Kyle called back, chuckling to himself as he led the way to a doorway, opening the door to reveal a decent-sized room with a bed, a dresser, and a little desk across from the bed. The walls were a light purple. The floor was wood, with a small circular fuzzy carpet in the room.

It looked comfortable.

Kyle stepped out of the way, gesturing for you to enter your room, and you hesitantly stepped in, eyes scanning every square inch. There was a window to the right of your bed, locked, probably.

After it passed whatever mental test you’d conjured up, you walked over to the bed, nose wrinkling in mild distaste at how the bed was set. The blankets were tucked tightly into the mattress, so you yanked them out, before taking the pillow, putting it on the floor, and kicking the absolute life out of it for a few minutes until it was placed back onto the bed.

You then proceeded to plop into the mess of blankets and sheets, pulling the blanket up over you. It was soft and fluffy but not fuzzy.

“She’s nesting-!”

You heard a voice squeak from the entryway, only to see Johnny grinning like a maniac, pushing Kyle out of the way to see into the room. John was behind him, giving an unimpressed flat stare to the excited Scottish man, and Simon was looming behind Kyle, tall enough to see over his wings.

“Humans don’t nest, Soap.”

Kyle said flatly, and Johnny threw him a glare.

“Well, she’s doing whatever the human equivalent to nesting is.”

He retorted, and Simon gave him a look that said he thought he was brain-dead.

“Making the bed?”

He said, and Johnny huffed, getting into it with Simon while you watched from your bed, listening to them argue, until you got sick of it and pulled the blanket over your head, hiding under it.

“How ain’t that nesting—?”

“I make my bed every mornin’. Don’t mean I’m nesting.”

“Can it, both of you.”

They both shut up after the verbal admonishment, John sighing, and a moment later a man approached the bed slowly, making sure you could hear the wood creaking beneath his feet. He didn’t want to surprise you. You made your mental bets between which one it was.

Johnny’s head popped up from under the blanket a few moments later.

“John says I’m not being very hospitable,”

He said, as if he was whining to you, giving a loud, dramatic sigh that you heard John, who seemed to be walking down the hallway now, grumble at. It almost made you laugh, and he must’ve seen the smile pulling at your lips because he grinned big and wide. Only his head remained under the blanket, the rest of his body kneeling beside the bed.

“How about we play a game, hm? Help ya learn the house a lil while Price and Gaz make dinner.”

You paused, before nodding. The house didn’t have too complicated of a layout, you thought. You’d seen what looked like a second floor, maybe there was a basement.

A hand slid under the blanket, calloused and rough, and you promptly ignored it, simply sliding the blanket off. You weren’t there yet, not with any of them. It would take a good while before you started willingly touching.

“How about…tag?”

You shook your head almost immediately at that one, and once he really thought about it, it made sense. No child would want to be chased around by a big hybrid in a place they don’t know.

“Hide n’ seek?”

You didn’t say anything at first, until nodding.

“You wanna hide or seek first?”

“Hide.”

Hiding was essentially the only part you were good at. You didn’t have the nose to sniff out hiders, but you did have plenty of practice hiding, for various reasons. Being a human wasn’t the easiest. You were prey, essentially, easy to be picked off when alone or vulnerable.

Johnny’s big hand tugged the blankets off, getting up off of his knees, gesturing to the doorway where Simon loomed, sharp eyes watching the werewolf, a slight narrowing of them when they both exchanged gazes, silently communicating.

Johnny turned to face the wall once you both got out into the hallway, the door clicking quietly shut while Simon watched.

“I’m gonna start counting, I’ll give ye a good…20, how’s that?”

He asked with a grin, and you nodded. You didn’t know this house other than the hallway, your room, and the main living room in the front, but you were determined to find a good hiding spot. It might’ve been years since you last played hide and seek with someone his age, but you were competitive.

“20, 19….”

You bolted.

Down the hallway, taking a right, seeing a staircase. You decided to go up.

“18, 17…”

A mini-hallway up the stairs. You took your hoodie off as quickly as possible, opening a door and randomly throwing it inside. The scent would probably throw him off.

“16, 15…”

You slid down the stairs, running down the same hallway, taking another turn, moving past the kitchen where John was stirring a pot and Kyle was cutting vegetables. They raised a brow but didn’t comment as you pulled one shoe off, tossing it around a corner.

“14, 13, 12…”

He was speeding up, the cheat.

You took the other shoe off, finding another door to open, this time being a closet, before throwing it in and shutting the door behind you.

“11, 10, 9…”

With three different things to throw the freakishly good nose most werewolves had off, you figured it was time to find a hiding spot. He was in the single digits now.

“8, 7, 6….”

You rounded a corner, finding a door with a different style handle than the others. It was golden and round, older, while the others were silver and slim. You opened it and were met with darkness and a staircase.

You hesitantly descended, the light switch not working.

“5, 4…”

You needed to find a spot. Now.

The scent of laundry detergents hit your nose when you finally reached the bottom, daylight from a small basement window providing the bare minimum of light to let you see. To the right of the stairs, there was a thin little room that was a laundry room.

All the scents would surely mask yours well, too.

“3, 2, 1…”

You heard his muffled voice grow more excited when he was finally close to being able to start his hunt.

You found a shelf next to the wall with a little crawl space underneath the different cleaners it was holding. Flattening your body to the floor, you squirmed under, struggling to breathe for the first few moments until you adjusted.

“Ready or not, here I come!”

He called out, and you heard the creaking of the floorboards under his feet as he stomped around the house, John calling something out you couldn’t hear from down here.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you suddenly noticed a giant spider and her web only a foot from you. Your skin was suddenly crawling, your imagination running wild, and you heard doors opening and closing upstairs.

The first one.

The second.

The third, he must be getting close.

He’d gone through all your distractions. You heard his heavy panting from here, heard the footsteps coming down the rickety old stairs.

He didn’t even try to flick on the switch.

He wouldn’t have to, not with his built-in night vision. The huffing grew louder as you heard his mutt-like sniffing, deep and full. Your skin began to crawl for a different reason, limbs tensing unconsciously.

He was a predator. He had teeth that could shred you within seconds, claws that could rip you open. And then you weren’t under the shelf anymore.

The scent of wet hay and animals surrounded you as the itchy sawdust rubbed at your skin, leaving it red and irritated.

You heard him before your eyes adjusted enough to see him. The furry form, at least three times bigger than your small body, claws dragging against the walls of the wood, teeth gleaming in the full moonlight.

He wasn’t just finding you, he was enjoying this.

Enjoying being able to sniff out your terror, the scent of it soaking through your clothes without you even knowing.

He paused.

The hay crunched beneath his feet as he shifted, taking a deep whiff of the air, a sound coming out of him resembling a crow’s raspy caw, except it sounded like an imitation of laughter coming from his maw.

The hay crunched again. Closer.

You held your breath, silent tears rolling down your cheeks.

A tail swept by, as if he’d somehow not seen you, but then—

“Rah!”

The familiar Scottish lilt to his voice felt all too comforting compared to what you’d just remembered moments earlier. You think you screamed. Your mouth had opened, you just hadn’t heard the noise coming out.

You tried to make sense of it.

Key word, tried.

He must’ve seen how you sniffled, body shaking slightly and breathing unsteady. He noticed. His hand swiped the large spider, which had been crawling ever close while you hadn’t even noticed, away, his other hand going to lift the shelf for you to get out.

“Jus’ a spider, nothin’ to worry about.”

He mumbled with a small chuckle, watching as you scrambled out from under the old shelf, walking over to the stairs without even needing him to lead you around. It seemed you were eager to get out of the dark.

He didn’t blame you.

The stairs creaked behind you as he headed up, swiping some dust that clung to your hair and clothes still. When you opened the basement door after fumbling for the handle for a moment, you were greeted with your shoes and jacket right near the entrance.

“Clever trick ye pulled, never had such a wee little bairn pull ‘at on me.”

He said with a warm chuckle. At least you’d tricked him a little bit. Even if he’d still found you depressingly fast.

You stepped into your shoes, shifting around until your feet were in properly, picking your jacket up and carrying it with you as you stepped to the side, meaning to let Johnny through, only for your back to hit a warm body as you let out a noise of surprise, whipping your body around as you flinched and jumped nearly a foot back.

It was Simon, who didn’t react much, other than a subtle tilt of his head. His eyes narrowed as he looked you over, looking as if he knew something was off.

Johnny raised a brow at the silent staring contest between you and the wraith, shutting the basement door behind him as Gaz’s voice called for them.

“Dinner!”

Simon gave you one last glance, before turning and walking to the table. Johnny flashed you a sympathetic grin.

“Don’ be scared of the brute, he’s really a sweetie underneath it all, just gotta get used to ye is all.”

He said, a bit quieter as if not wanting Simon to overhear. You watched him walk away, having a feeling he heard every word, and that he heard a lot more than he let on.

Johnny tried to place a hand on your back which you jerked away from, murmuring an apology as you followed him to the kitchen. The game of hide and seek helped you learn the layout of the house, but it would still take a while to fully memorize.

The smell of something delicious, namely potatoes and some form of meat and barbecue, reached your nose as Kyle pulled a chair out for you, setting his hat on the seat to your right to claim it, Johnny sitting across from you. Simon’s seat was on one end of the table, and you assumed Price’s seat was on the other end.

It was some form of pot roast, you quickly learned, bowls being passed around the table with napkins and silverware. A glass full of water was put near your plate. The rest of them settled for tea except Johnny. Kyle put a spoonful of sugar and a small container of cream in his tea, mixing it neatly in. Simon drank the tea black. John put half a container of cream in, mixing it in and taking a long drink.

Johnny settled for a can of orange soda the others called ‘pop’.

John put his hands together, bowing his head and closing his eyes in a gesture of prayer. Simon didn’t. Johnny poorly mimicked John, clearly more interested in his food. Kyle mumbled something under his breath on his own, digging into his food right after.

You’d been in houses with religion before. It wasn’t as surprising as it had been at first, with the different concepts of prayer and gods and everything that came with it. You just didn’t know exactly what to do.

You looked around the table, John praying, Kyle eating quickly but nearly, and Johnny quickly mumbling under his breath. Simon was the only one eating slowly, taking his time. Probably because of the scar that ran over his lips, leaving a bit of his canine exposed.

He didn’t get the chance to eat fast.

You accidentally locked eyes with him, unsure of what to do. It felt rude to stare, but you couldn’t just back down from the silent challenge in his brown eyes, seeming to dare you to keep looking, assuming you wouldn’t.

He’d watched your eyes dart around, a look he’d seen too many times before. You didn’t know what to do.

He paused, still not breaking eye contact as he slowly blinked, scarred fingers closing around his glass as he raised it to meet halfway between you two. It took you a few seconds to realize what he was doing, brows furrowed in confusion before releasing with realization as you picked your glass up, lifting it to clink against his.

The sound brought both Johns out of their prayers, John chuckling as he raised his glass, Johnny and Kyle soon to follow.

“To our new little bugger.”

Simon muttered, brown eyes glittering with mirth as he glanced down at you, lips twitching almost up.

And as the rest of them filled the space with chatter and words, you thought that maybe, even if it wasn’t always easy or comfortable at first, you could be happy here.

Maybe.

Next —>

Tags:

@thriving-n-jiving

@simonrileysown

@theartgremlin2

@theartgremlin

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luckykiwiii101 · 10 months ago

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What I Will Be Manifesting This Week :

What I will be manifesting this week:

- Desired Body (Revised)

- Always Waking Up In The Void State Aware

- That my 3D always conforms in under 48 hours

What Will I Be Doing?

- Embodying the state of having my desires.

- Fulfilling myself in imagination whenever I think of my desires.

- Fulfill through visualisation and inner conversations because that is what feels most natural to me.

What Will I Manifest In The Void State?

- Desired Face & Body but with some finishing touches. (doll - like, kind of like Karen smith from mean girls)

- Desired Height (5’7)

- Desired hair (doll - like)

- Desired Name (so elegant and pretty!)

- Desired Personality

- Desired voice (singing & speaking)

- Desired Vibe (90s Supermodel)

- Desired house (so luxurious)

- Desired room (Barbie x Gossip Girl themed)

- Desired Wardrobe (Blair Waldorf type outfits)

- iPhone 15 Pro + Desired Phone Case

- New Desired Biological Dad + New cousins & aunties etc to match

- Revising that my parents got married in Paris

- Rich Family

- All my family members are happy and have everything they want

- Privacy

- Pretty School Interior & Exterior

- Desired School Uniform

- My best friends to live on the same road as me and to have everything they want.

- Perfect mental and physical health for all my loved ones.

- Desired Career to start early (Supermodel for when i’m 17)

- Perfect Posture

- Perfect Eyesight

- Perfect Culinary & Baking Skills

- Fluency in French & Dutch

- Piano Prodigy + being able to play desired songs on it

- Good at playing electric guitar

- Changing Appearance of my family members

- Revising my family’s names

- Always knowing what to say

- Family celebrates holidays like Christmas & Halloween

- Revising my memories to align with my dream life

- Photographic & audiographic memory

- Perfect grades

- Whenever I listen to a song, it feels like listening to it for the first time again.

- Desired Items

- Immune from embarrassment + Revising that any past embarrassing moments never happened

- Life feels like the early 2010’s again

- Life feels like a Gossip Girl Episode (You know I had to XoXo 💋)

- Life feels like a barbie movie (like princess charm school or smthg idk)

- Looking like desired songs

- Can Choose To feel hot or cold

- airport and plane processes to be always extremely fun and quick for my family, friends and I

- Teen Wolf & The Originals to be put back on Netflix

- Season 3 of One Of Us Is Lying to come out

- Some cute things for my pets

- Always know what my pets want

- My whole family to have good taste in fashion

- Go on nice holidays every year

- Materialise something instantly by affirming for it x3

- Kind, Respectful & Secular Family

- Disgusting Roadman fashion in London to be stopped (ew if u saw that shizz)

- Fashion to go back to the 90s and early 2000s

- People At School Don’t annoy me

- High Spice Tolerance

- Always Wake Up Feeling Fresh & Energised

- Never late to school

- Desired ear piercings

- Scary Insects never come near me (especially spiders AAAAH!!!)

- I appreciate all aspects of life

- Never abuse my manifesting abilities

- Everything i manifest manifests 10x better than how i imagined

- Basically revising my whole entire life top to bottom

+ much more personal things

Things I Will Be Manifesting For The World:

- World Peace in all realities

- No wars in all realities

- Palestine being free in all realities

- World healing

- Healed society

- Righteous justice system

- No corrupt leaders

- No corrupt governments etc

- Healthcare everywhere is free

- People are good people

- People treat eachother with respect and kindness

Guys, I will definitely go into more depth when i actually materialise all these and post my success story. + Will probably post some picture proof of materialistic things in my home and outfits etc but not my face or anything personal like that.

I wrote everything i’m going to manifest on here because I know i’m not going to be bothered to type it all out when i’m actually living my dream life in the 3D 💀

Share what you guys will be manifesting and stick to your new story so we can all post our successes together!!!

#void state #void #law of assumption #loa blog #loa tumblr #loassumption #loablr #manifestation #loa #neville goddard #live in the end #living in the end #law of assumption blog #manifesting

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evanchantingpeters · 2 months ago

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How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 7 - Final)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Summary ─ A couple of months after Jake’s (Evan’s friend) tragic accident left him fighting for his life in intensive care, Evan is spiralling, lost in despair, a shadow of his former self. Just as a sliver of good news about his condition offers a ray of hope, Y/N steps in, determined to bring some light into Evan’s shattered world. She starts with a seductive dance and builds to a night of passion. But Evan has a surprise—one that will change everything in a way Y/N never saw coming.

Warnings ─ Obscene language, lap dance, oral (both receiving), overstimulation, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl, missionary, extra smutty—like you like it.

Word count ─ 5.1K (I had a lot to say 🤫)

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

Previously on: How I met Evan Peters (Part 6)

“W-what’s up, Jeremy?” he stutters, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s Jake,” Jeremy blurts out, his expression twisting into one of anguish. “He’s fallen off the roof.” Jeremy’s words hit like a punch to the gut, the colour draining from Evan’s face. The room goes deathly quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. The room spins as everything comes to a screeching halt.

Two months after Jake’s accident

Thursday, 16:42 pm

You settle into the cosy corner of his New York apartment, the city’s hustle muffled by the soft hum of the radiator. A rustic wooden desk hosting your work setup and a quirky lamp, which has seen better days but adds to the character, stands against the wall. A plush bean bag chair invites you to sink in while a baroque rug sprawls beneath your feet, and a bookshelf stuffed with books and random knick-knacks lurks by your side. Sunlight streams through light, breezy curtains, making it a perfect workspace for your remote routine. With Evan busy with press and meetings for the next few weeks, this place feels almost like a retreat—if only you could shake off the looming frustration of the Excel table before you.

You’d think by now you’d have mastered the art of not losing your shit at work, being the corporate girlie you are, while dealing with this stupid spreadsheet, but nope. Here you are, puffing like the Big Bad Wolf trying to blow down formulas that refuse to behave.

As you’re fighting and suffering through, your hand drifts toward your phone. You know how it goes. Brain’s fried, and next thing you know, you’re aimlessly scrolling through the endless pit of Instagram reels without even realising it. Well, this time it’s Evan’s name glowing like a beacon of your favourite “distraction,” and your stomach flutters, your heart racing.

Oh, hello, messages!

You open the chat, expecting a quick “I’ll be back in 10’, baby. Can’t wait to kiss you” text or maybe a meme about cats judging people (you know, standard fare). Instead, what do you find? A picture. But not just any picture. Oh no, this man, YOUR man, is standing there in a white tee, his pose giving swagger “yo” next to Todd McFarlane, a comic book legend. The whole shebang.

And here comes the string of messages:

“Babyyyy, look - Todd McFarlane in da house for the press conference!!”

“he’s signed the Amazing Spider-Man hardcopy!!”

“ill bring it home and we frame it ;)”

“we’re going live.. tune in xx”

“changed into the blazer and stripy tee you picked for me. Love you so ♥️”

Let’s pause here. Not at Todd McFarlane – who, mind you, is hands-down a god in his domain, but no. Your eyes, traitors that they are, keep sliding back to that picture of Evan.

Because damn.

Todd’s cool and all, but Evan in that white tee and messy curls? Where do you even begin? The man looks like he rolled out of bed straight into a photoshoot and decided to smoulder for no apparent reason. You know the one—that half-cocked sly smile that screams, “Yeah, I know what I’m doing to do, and you’re welcome.”

You catch yourself zooming in and drooling over him like a total goofball. The scrunched-up grimace. The luscious Tarzan hair. The way his eyes carry a hint of sadness and fatigue but with residues of that familiar spark he always has. It’s weird how something as simple as a picture can make your heart do that silly backflip thing over and over again after more than a year with him.

Snap out of it, girl. Spreadsheet’s waiting. But no, instead of getting back to formulas, your brain takes a little detour down Memory Lane. Suddenly, you’re remembering the last time Evan was kneeling in front of you. Not in some adorable, “let me tie your shoes, princess” way, but more of an arousing “let me worship you, queen,” Roman Empire situation.

Oh, yeah. That night.

You’d seized your throne aka that big armchair in the middle of the dimly-lit living room. And there he was, on his knees, completely surrendered to you. His tongue was lapping on your wet folds like you were the sweetest cake frosting he’d ever tasted. His slender fingers were plumping in and out of you in all the right spots as he slurped up your syrups and juices, sucking on your clit like it’s cherry on dessert.

His tongue would thrash and french kiss your puffy sobbing walls up near the throbbing bulb of your sensitive clit. You tugged on his hair, his brown curls wrapped around your fingers like reins as he pulled you apart, inch by inch. Your jaw tightened as his tongue and fingers mercilessly rutted into you, giving you crazed whiplash as you squirt, all while licking you clean with eager choked moans.

Your body tremors and orgasmic vibrations were seismic… just like they are now as your cunt pulsates and aches for him, even though you’re sitting at the dining table, fully clothed and miles away from him.

Funny how memories can sneak up on you like that, isn’t it?

But here’s the kicker. As much as you’d love for a repeat performance, that’s not where you guys are at these days. Not since Jake fell off the roof at the party he hosted at his place. You get it–one of Evan’s best friends is in a hospital bed, clinging to life while in a coma, and Evan’s drowning in his own sea of emotions and sorrow. The man is dragging so much weight on his shoulders right now.

And you respect that. You really do. Your sex life has justifiably taken a backseat, but you’re not here to push or force him. What you have and share with him isn’t mere lust; you love him, and you acknowledge that he’s having it rough at the moment. You’ve been trying to be his rock, the one who keeps him grounded while he navigates the heavy blizzard of the tragedy.

But you can’t help it.

Sometimes, your mind slips back to those sizzling moments where your bodies speak in a language only you two comprehend. Because, let’s be real—he might be wearing the blazer you chose for him in the morning, but under all that fabric, you’re the one who gets to undress the real Evan. And if that’s not worth waiting for, you don’t know what is.

You sigh, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, but you’ve left the spreadsheets and work far behind with all those cheeky little fantasies that gnaw on your brain. Still knee-deep in wet daydreams of Evan and his—well, *coughing* talents, when the universe decides to slap you in the face with reality.

That “we’re going live, tune in xx” text blinks back at you from the chat, practically yelling to stop fantasising and actually be the supportive girlfriend you claim to be.

Gasp.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Gasp again.

The press conference! You need to watch it. Like, now.

You scramble up from the table so fast, you’d think the chair is lava, and launch into a desperate hunt for the TV remote. The remote is like a cryptid—always hiding in the most inconvenient places at the worst times. Last week? In the fridge. Don’t ask. Today? Who knows. You’re flipping couch cushions like you’re on an archaeological dig.

“WHERE IS IT?!” you yelp, your high-pitched voice bouncing off the walls like you’re a banshee in panic mode. Female rage core.

Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. It’s like the remote’s decided to pack its bags and set off to Narnia with no return ticket.

Curse you, technology masterminds.

Plan B.

You rush back to your laptop, slide your fingers along the trackpad to wake it up, and—oh no, what’s this? Your whole screen’s been hijacked by the most evil of phrases:

Software Update: 30% Complete.

Are. You. For. Real.

You stare at the loading bar like you can will it to go faster. Or pretend you’re not watching, so it speeds up. Smart but nah, that’s placebo—no such luck. This thing is moving slower than a Monday morning during rush hours, and if you wait for it, you’ll be watching Evan’s interview in the past tense or through his narration once he’s back home.

You let out a huff that could probably power a small wind turbine and whip out your phone, praying to every deity that your Wi-Fi doesn’t fail you amidst crisis.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter through gritted teeth, frantically tapping apps like your fingers are on caffeine overload. And just when you think someone is playing another cruel trick on you—boom, there it is. The live stream.

The screen lights up, and there comes baby Evan on stage, looking all sleek and profesh in his blazer (you knew the combo with the stripes underneath would work wonders *proud stylist smiling*). He’s sitting on a stool along with his co-stars, all of them gathered in this massive amphitheatre for their upcoming movie press tour.

He’s got the mic in his hand, finishing up a sentence with that smooth, husky tone. You know, that voice that sounds like a lullaby wrapped in velvet. But there’s also the twist of dorky humour and the cute brow furrows he taps into when he’s either totally in his element or way too awkward.

The interviewer gives him a nod, then sighs. Your stomach drops.

The next question is about Jake, as he’s guy well known for scripting some of the most beloved TV shows. If there were a Hall of Fame for TV writers, his star would be as big as a small planet. He’s adored by fandoms for his wit and creativity, and now you’re all grappling with the fallout from his misfortune.

You can see the shift in Evan’s face from media charm to something… darker, melancholic. He’s trying so hard to stay composed, but you know him. That tiny flicker of anguish behind his eyes filters through the cracks.

Evan takes a sharp breath and clears his throat. “Yeah, Jake was moved from LA and remains in ICU here in New York,” he admits, voice steady but edged with quiet vulnerability. “But there’s… a... there’s a glimmer of hope. He moved his hand today.”

For a second, the world stops spinning. Did he just say—? He moved?!

Your heart does a somersault, and you can’t help it—you cheer and clap right along with the audience, even though you’re alone in the living room in your mismatched socks, overstretched yoga shorts, and messy bun. Who cares, honestly? Jake moved his hand.

Evan lets the crowd’s enthusiasm bubble up for a second before he delicately taming it. “It’s good news,” he continues, his voice like a fuzzy blanket, soothing yet cautious. “But let’s not start planning the parade just yet—there’s a long road ahead for him. We’ll have to see how his health evolves from here. I just wanted to share this little nugget of hope. His family’s already spreading the word, and they gave me the green light to pass it on to all of you.”

There’s a tightness in his voice, and you can tell he’s got a fortress built around his emotions, probably fighting not to let it crumble in front of all those people and cameras. Your baby’s always been strong like steel this way, the type who carries everyone’s baggage on his shoulders without ever letting on how heavy it is.

You sit there, phone in hand, staring at his face on the screen. There’s so much going on behind those eyes, and you know he probably feels like crap underneath that calm exterior.

You wish you could reach through the screen and just be there with him in a “I’ve got you, you’re not alone” kind of way. You’ve been weathering this storm together, and it’s been tough as hell. It’s taken everything in him just to stay afloat, but he’s doing it. He’s really doing it...

There’s something about post-work Thursdays that sends you into this frantic, impulsive must-clean-everything-in-sight mode. Not that Evan cares if there’s a pile of laundry in the corner or if the dishes are threatening to stage a rebellion in the sink, but still. He doesn’t expect you to tackle it all just because you’re working fully from home; he can do it himself, but you want the place to look neat and tidy. You know, like “I have my life together and didn’t just spend the last two hours binge-watching cooking videos on YouTube” level of very demure, very mindful adulthood.

So here you are, in full-on cleaning tornado mode—scrubbing the counter with the kind of intensity that could probably burn calories—when your ears perk at the rustling sound.

That magical jingle of keys. The ignition. The click of the door unlocking.

Baby Evan’s home.

You drop the sponge like it’s on fire and just bolt. You don’t even think. It’s pure instinct, like you’re a puppy who heard the treat jar open. Your pulse leaps, your feet fly, and before you know it, you’re flinging the front door open just as he steps in. And there he is.

Your man. Your whole heart.

He’s got his arms full—takeout bags in one hand, his backpack slung over his shoulder, looking more mouth-watering than anything that could possibly be in those containers. His hair’s a little ruffled, his shirt rumpled from the day, but to you, he might as well be walking straight out of a rom-com.

“EVIEEEE!” you squeal, pouncing at him with the enthusiasm of a kid on a sugar high.

“Whoa!” he chuckles heartily, catching you mid-air. He spins you around even though you can sense the stiffness in his body as he battles not to drop the dinner. He’s out of breath, but he holds you tight, like he’s afraid to let go. His backpack slides down his arm, and for a second, you’re just tangled together—glued around him, his hands grasping on you firmly.

“Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?” he teases, his voice hoarse from the long day. But you can see it in his eyes—he’s just as hyped to be back in your little cocoon as you are.

“You have no idea,” you breathe, and before you can utter anything else, his lips are on yours, kissing you like he’s been starved for weeks. You’re pretty sure you hear the bags crinkle between you two, but whatever… they can wait.

It’s not just a kiss. Oh no, this is the you-just-got-kissed-senseless kind that says, “I’m never letting you out of my reach again.” It’s deep and sloppy, and you feel it all the way down your toes. Little lewd moans escape your bodies as your tongues greet each other, swirling around in a lustful dance. He tastes like toffee, baby powder, warmth, comfort, and home.

You melt into each other, completely forgetting about the bags or the fact that you’ve still got soap on your hands. You twirl faster together as his hands mischievously squeeze your ass, making you giggle into his mouth.

“I was counting the hours to get to you, Y/N, and time was a total bitch today,” he grumbles, and it’s a husky purr near the nape of your neck. Your plump lips curl into an “awh, my poor baby” pout, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you swarm his face with little pecks.

When he finally sets you down, you’re both grinning like idiots. Your heart’s doing cartwheels, and your stomach feels like you’ve swallowed a whole bunch of butterflies. You missed him. Not just having him around, but all the little things tied in—his laugh, his hands on you, the way he stares at you like you’re a precious gem.

Closing the door behind you, you pace together towards the kitchen, and get the itch to drop the question, “Did Jake really move?” Your voice is hopeful, but there’s a little tinge of fear there too. You know how much this means to Evan, so you need to tread about cautiously.

He pauses, chucking his backpack aside before turning to you. His eyes soften, and he nods, stepping closer. His hands find your waist again, his face buried in the crook of your neck. “Yeah. He really did.”

Before you can even process the relief, Evan’s lips are on yours again, soft whimpers rolling off him. This time, the kiss is slower, more tender like silky ribbons on your mouth. His lips trail from your mouth down to your neck, his breath tingly against your heated skin. “Gosh, how much I needed you today,” he whispers between kisses, his voice dense with emotion as he presses his mouth lower, toward the neckline of your sports bra. His fingers gently graze your sides and rest on your hip bones before massaging your ass, and your breath hitches.

You thread your fingers through his hair, feeling the tension melt out of him as his body leans into yours. “Me too,” you huff out, because honestly, you feel like you’ve been holding your breath all day, just waiting for him to come home.

But then you pull away slightly, the thought of Jake scratching the back of your mind. “Can we go see him now?”

Evan sighs, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm and steady. “Not tonight,” he exhales, taking a couple of steps back. “It’s just family. They wanna keep it low with the visits.”

You shake your head in acknowledgment, nervously biting your fingernail. You get it—you really do—but there’s still that little sting of disappointment tugging at your chest. “How ‘bout tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” he mumbles, glancing over at you again as he tears the bags apart and unpacks the food. “We’ll try tomorrow afternoon. His family’s still adjusting, but I’ll talk to them.”

The relief that washes over you is like a pleasant, summer breeze, calming your frayed nerves. Tomorrow. You let out a breathy, “Okay, great,” your shoulders finally loosening. As you approach him to help dispose of the bags, Evan’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist in one quick, playful motion, pulling you flush against him.

You barely have time to gasp before his lips crash against yours, his tongue barging in your mouth without warning, assaulting yours in tantalising ways that are better left unsaid. You loop your arms around the back of his head and drag him closer, your tits cushioning his shredded chest.

“Don’t leave, please,” he hushes, his lips caressing yours. His voice is huskier now, a bit rougher around the edges, and you can feel the warmth from his body merging with yours. His free hand slips down to the supple flesh of your waist again, fingers curling just under the hem of your top to tuck underneath.

You smirk against his mouth, tilting your head slightly. “You know, we do live together, sir” you tease, playfully pinching the tip of his nose.

“That’s a reminder in case you forgot,” he quips, nuzzling into the slope of your neck. His broad shoulders are curved over you from behind like a shield, throwing every organ in your body on high alert, your heart drumming violently.

He pulls back, and before you can react, he gives your ass a quick, cheeky smack that makes you jump. Your mouth drops open in surprise, but he just grins smugly, like he’s fully aware of what he’s done, and he’s proud of it.

“Hey!” you whimper, swatting at him, but there’s no denying your pulse thumps fiercely.

“What?” he squeaks sheepishly, throwing his hands up in exasperation, but the glint in his eye gives him away. “You look too good to keep my hands off. Plus, guess who was stuck in my head the whole day. Hint—it’s not the burgers,” he fires back, waggling his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes comically, but your heartbeat is up now. There’s something about the way he’s staring down at you—like he’s hungry, and it’s not just for the takeout. You notice it when he leans in again, this time with a heat that wasn’t there a moment ago. His lips trace a line of open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. Your fingers twist around his shirt, gripping it, as his hands roam a little lower, tugging you closer until you can feel every ounce of him pressed against you.

“Speaking of burgers, if food’s your love language, then you’re speaking mine fluently,” you chuckle, but the second you catch the look Evan gives you—whoa, buddy. Food’s officially second on his menu. His eyes are a pair of flamed balls, fixed onto you like you’re the main course, dessert, and everything in between—like you’re the most appetising thing in the room.

And, let’s just say, he’s a lot more “warmed up” than usual. His kisses grow deeper, rougher, and the way he’s touching you are the real giveaway… The man’s practically simmering.

And oh, honey, you’re more than pleased to help him get away tonight. So, in your most casual, not-at-all-planned-in-your-head-already way, you decide tonight’s the night to put up a show… Literally.

You let your hands glide down his chest, feeling every erratic beat of his heart beneath his shirt. “You’ve been through a lot lately,” you murmur softly, your fingers dipping lower until you’re just hovering over his belt buckle, toying with the metal. “How about I pamper you tonight?”

You let your tongue slide over his upper lip, and damn if he doesn’t shudder. His eyes flash with thrill and curiosity—mixed with something darker, more primal. “Oh?” His voice comes out in this sexy rasp like he’s intrigued but still playing along, letting you lead for now.

You bite back a smug grin. Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for.

With a playful wink, you step back, making sure to drag your hand across his chest one last time. “Sit tight, big boy,” you purr, backing away with just the right amount of sway in your hips. “This show’s just getting started.”

You saunter down the hallway, feeling his gaze burning a path down your back. You can feel your heart pounding as you head into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. The second it clicks shut, you lean against it for a second to catch your breath. The adrenaline makes your hands quiver a little as you rummage through the drawer.

There it is: that little black number you’ve been saving for a night just like this.

A lacy, black lingerie piece, sheer in all the right places, hugging curves like it was made for you. You shimmy it on, adjusting the straps, making sure everything’s sitting just so.

A quick glance in the mirror as you set your hair free from the bun—tousled, sexy-but-effortless vibe, check. The lace hints at more than it conceals, and your lips curl into a slow smile. Oh, yeah, he’s done for. You toss on a silky robe, leaving it untied, the lace peeking through just enough to give him a preview. A little fragrance spritz and a light touch of your lipstick, and you’re sorted.

When you open the door and walk back into the living room, you find him perched on the couch, his eyes snapping to you like magnets, intense and feral, as you come into view. His posture is stiff, knuckles blanched as they grip the cushions like he’s holding on for dear life. His pupils, wide and black with want, devouring the sight of you as if you are something forbidden, yet irresistible.

His gaze lingers, darkening when it catches on the soft peek of skin where your robe parts. He swallows hard, audibly, and when you let the silky fabric slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet, his jaw clenches—hard (hint: and not just his jaw).

The low light of the room encases you as it casts a sensual glow over the room, deepening the shadows and sharpening the tension between you two like a blade.

“F-fuck,” he wheezes, like the breath’s been knocked clean and shallow out of him. He tries to maintain some semblance of self-control, but the sharp despair in his voice betrays him. He sinks deeper into the couch, spreading his legs slightly, shooting you this look that’s pure, unfiltered desire as he drinks you in.

You want to torture him, enjoying how his gaze rakes over every inch of you, so you slowly strut over to him. Each step is deliberate, your hips swinging in a slow, intoxicating rhythm that’s nothing short of tempting. His composure slips just a little more—a twitch in his jaw, a harsh swallow, the way his chest rises and falls, faster with every second. His eyes flick down to the curves, then back up to your scandalous tits before snapping back to your face.

The heat from his body radiates into yours as you come to a stop, your thighs rubbing against his knees, and his hands instinctively move to grab your waist. But you’re not giving in that easily. “Uh-uh,” you purr, wagging a teasing finger at him, your lips forming a sly smile.

His fingers freeze, but his eyes burn with frustration as you stretch, purposely slow, letting your ass hover just above his lap. The unmistakable press of his hardness through his jeans sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you can’t help but smirk. “I’m in charge tonight, remember?”

Evan lets out a furious groan, his head falling back defeated against the cushions, hands flexing in silent restraint. The power you hold over him tonight? Oh, it’s delicious, addictive. You throw him one last, seductive glance before turning around, giving him the full view of your barely-there lingerie—delicate straps criss-crossing down your back and framing your ass like a gift he’s dying to unwrap.

You hear as a muttered curse slips past his lips, low and guttural. He’s so close to breaking, and you haven’t even actually started yet. You scroll through your phone’s playlist, cueing up the perfect song for the occasion. The room is soon filled with the slow, sultry beats of Beyoncé’s ‘Dance For You,’ wrapping around both of you like a spell. You start slow, letting the music guide your hips, rolling in hypnotic circles.

You saunter towards a nearby chair, aka your prop, bending over it as your body flows like liquid heat to the beat. His eyes religiously follow every motion, waiting, his breathing growing heavier like he’s holding on a thread with every flick of your hips, every arch of your spine.

You roam your fingers up my body, teasingly stopping at your hips before dragging them higher, skimming over your breasts. With agonising slowness, you untie your bra, holding his attention and eye contact hostage. The second the lace slips off your body, you toss it in his direction with a devilish grin. He catches it with a hungry grunt, burying his face in the fabric like a man possessed, his smirk turning malicious as he inhales deeply.

“God, you’re killing me,” he groans, eyes exploding with thirst for you. The sight of him, chest heaving, lips slightly parted—oh, it’s so sadistically satisfying.

You’re gonna make him beg for it.

Leaning forward, just enough for your bare breasts to graze his chest, you bring your lips up to his ear, hot breath fanning the side of his face, “Good,” voice dripping with a promise for more. You pull back just a fraction, your lips curving into a wicked smile. “I’m just getting started.”

You circle behind him, and he twists his head, tracking your every move, but you’re not finished (no pun intended).

“Please, Y/N. Come sit on my lap, or my face…just—” His voice breaks, raw and pleading, his body squirming as he shifts, desperate for release. The power thrumming through your veins is out of this world, and you bite your bottom lip knowing you’ve got him right on the edge.

You start with the lightest touch, dragging your fingers over the hard lines of his shoulders, tracing down the sculpted muscles of his chest, feeling the shudder that runs through him as you slide lower. Your fingers brush over the taut muscles of his thighs.

His stiff length twitches beneath your touch, his growl of desire low and animalistic. His hands stretch again, desperate to reach for you, but you chuckle softly, knowing he’s at your mercy tonight. His usual command is gone, flipped on its head, and that hunger in his eyes tells you he’s loving every second of it.

The music pulses through the room as you circle back around to him. You bend low, your curves on full display, just close enough for him to grab a handful of your ass with an eager groan that rumbles through his chest. He finally pulls you into him, lips attacking your skin, trailing down your spine with feverish kisses as he peels your thong off. His breath brushes against your slit and clit as he descends, his lips so dangerously close it sends your body humming with desire.

He can smell your fertility; the pheromones emitting from your body intensify his animal instinct to breed. His breathing is erratic now, his body practically vibrating with need to take you, but you still “hold the leash.”

He breaths come out in heavy bursts as he watches you straddle him, knees planted on either side of his hips. You grind down slowly, feeling the friction as you move in slow, sensual circles. His hands latch onto your thighs, his grip harsh and desperate, leaving marks that make your skin tingle. But still, you don’t let him seize control. Not yet.

Leaning in, you pepper steamy kisses along his neck, feeling his rapid pulse beneath your lips, your teeth tracing the sharp edge of his jawline. You tenderly bite at his earlobe, and he growls lowly, his hands spasming with despair to grab you, but even then, you won’t allow him to touch you the way he wants.

“The more you resist, the harder I’ll fuck you,” he warns with a hiss, his voice dark. It’s a threat and a vow all rolled into one that sends a heat pooling between your thighs.

“Perfect,” you retort in a hushed whisper against the shell of his ear, lips barely brushing the corner of his mouth—teasing but not quite giving in. “That’s the idea, baby.”

You’re serving cunt, and he knows it well.

With a slow, calculated slide, you lower yourself down his body, your hands stripping him of his blazer as you go. You let your hands trace over his thighs and the hardened, erected mound in between. Kneeling between his legs, you lock eyes with him, watching the way his breath stutters, anticipation swirling in the air. Slowly, you unbuckle his belt, your fingers stroking his length just enough to drive him nuts as he lets out a shaky gasp.

You pop the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper with your teeth. The second you free him from the tight confines of denim, his aching cock springs out, pulsing with raw desire for you, the fabric of his boxers barely able to contain him.

You glance up at him again with a smug smile before leaning down, your lips brushing along his head. His hips buck instinctively, a ragged groan tearing from his throat. But you take your time, taunting him with light flicks of your tongue.

Finally, you wrap your lips around him, licking his sensitive red tip with the end of your tongue. You swirl it around and lap up the shiny little pearls of precum that keep seeping out in his pent-up arousal. “F-fuuuck, Y/N. You’re gonna make me blow in a sec,” he grunts out with a hitched voice as you take his whole size in your mouth.

Your eyes flash up at him, filled with mischief as you take him deeper, your lips stretching to fit his full size. “Isn’t that the point?” you murmur, your voice on a seductive octave. “I want you to cum hard... fucking hard all over me.”

Your fingers trace the thick vein along the underside of his shaft before squeezing his hardness and pumping with a fast and firm tempo. Your hand works in sync with your mouth as you suck the upper half of his delicious cock, pulling him in and out, each movement making him gasp and buckle uncontrollably.

His head falls back, eyes screwed shut, muscles tensing. Some inaudible drabble slips off him as he thrusts into your mouth. Pools of saliva are pouring out of the edges of your lips, your eyebrows knitted together as you keep gagging at his cock hitting the back of your throat. You push further, your lips tight around him as you meet his gaze once more, your eyes wild with intensity. His fingers weave into your hair, but he doesn’t force you—he doesn’t have to. You’re in the saddle tonight, guiding him closer to his magical release.

Your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining as your head bobs up and down on him, earning little moans of delight from his chest. He’s a hot mess; trembling under the weight of the pleasure you’re generously giving him as you slide your mouth down his dick, your cheeks hollowed in a blend of sensual sucks and frantic pumps.

The sound of you gagging, the wet slurp of your lips, and the way you glance up at him so innocently, brow furrowed with effort, has him reeling. “Ahh, yeah, keep going,” he breathes out, biting his bottom lip.

He gets a good yet gentle grasp of your hair, thrusting into your mouth in shallow, desperate strokes, but you maintain control, building him up slowly, methodically. He adores your lips, especially the way they loop around his dick and release these mewling sounds against it.

But now, his whole body is shuddering, his cock jerking inside, and you can feel the tell-tale sign he’s about to bust his load in your mouth. The blood rushes to his dick, draining any sane thought and cell in his brain, leaving him driven only by his primal instinct and craving for climax.

You slide onto his throbbing cock once more, gobbling on it like the insatiable whore you are. He presses your head down and keeps you there for a few seconds. As you detach from his member to draw a breath, his body immediately locks up, his abs contracting, and then—he’s there.

His head snaps back as he erupts shivering whimpers of your name, painting your face with copious amounts of his thick, white, and deliciously salty cum, his release spilling over your lips.

You open your mouth, tongue stretched out, catching the last drops as you pump him, milking every ounce of his release. His cum drips down your chin, and you let your fingers swipe off the remnants from your face, licking them off slowly, savouring the taste. Nothing goes to waste as you look up at him, lips wet, cheeks flushed with the aftermath of his orgasm.

“You’re one hungry bitch, aren’t you?” he rasps, his voice strained, still shaky from the intensity of his high. He laughs weakly, dragging his thumb across your cheek with a tender caress, though his hard-on still convulses, not quite ready to soften. He winces as he tries to adjust himself, zipping up his jeans with difficulty, but the look of satisfaction on his face is unmistakable.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, licking your lips as you flash him a sly, knowing smirk. His chest rises and falls heavily, his face reddish, eyes droopy, still lost in the haze of afterglow.

Without wavering your eyes from him, you crawl up and climb to his lap, feeling your pussy drip with every inch of his skin that presses against you. He ogles your naked torso like a dog drooling over the bone. You position yourself just right, his semi-clothed swollen tip nudging against your slippery entrance.

“I am hungry for you, baby,” you purr with a pout as your fingertips draw lazy circles over the ridges of his abs. His eyes darken, filled with a renewed lust as he watches you, licking his lips like a predator eyeing its prey.

Letting out a dark, throaty chuckle, he wastes no time—he hammers his lips against yours, shoving his tongue deep into your mouth and kissing you with reckless abandon. His hands greedily paw at your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them just hard enough to make you moan against his lips.

The arousal between you is electric as your body grinds against his, the friction sending sparks flying through you both; it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you are about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.

His hands hook around your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp, stinging slap that makes you yelp in pleasure, the sound echoing through the room. You press your lips harder against his with a mewl, tongues tangling.

“Evan,” you hush out between sloppy kisses, barely coherent amidst loud teeth smacking and clashing together. All thanks to his fingers dipping between your legs, teasing your clit with maddening eights as he grins victoriously, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you.

“My slut’s ready for me?” he hums, giving your ass another smack, the sound of flesh against flesh making you quiver with delight. Your hips swerve on his raging boner, the body-against-body friction igniting an ever-powerful spark within you both. To say you’re a ‘mere’ tease for him is an understatement.

“You’re doing so good, my baby girl,” he gruffs, and his rough, veiny hands glide possessively toward your rocking waist as you begin to rub yourself against his thigh, slowly... teasingly. Every roll of your hips has him biting his lip, his eyes glued to the way your body moves against him.

“You’re in night care, baby boy, remember?” you hush, your voice laced with dominance as you lift your hips, fingers deftly undoing his trousers again. Your hand wraps around his cock, positioning him at your slick slit. Slowly, achingly slow, you sink down onto him, inch by inch. The stretch forces a moaning gasp out of you as your body adjusts to accommodate his size. Fiery electricity surges through you both, and he hisses watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock.

His hands tighten on your hips as you take him deeper, your nails digging into his biceps when he bottoms out, filling you completely. The fullness makes you shudder, your breath leaving you in a jagged burst as his tip presses snugly against your cervix. The deep groan that escapes his throat vibrates through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily, his hips stilling cautiously.

You start to move, rolling your hips in slow, languid circles, setting a rhythm that’s equal parts torture and bliss for both. His hands grip you harder, leaving faint red imprints on your flushed flesh, but he doesn’t push or pull—he’s letting you have the upper hand in riding him, his eyes dark and hungry as he admires you, mouth parted. The way he’s looking at you though? Like you’re a goddess descending from the heavens just for him. Oh, that does something to you.

“Look at you, baby. So fucking gorgeous, taking me like that,” he murmurs, pride and desire dripping from every word. A crooked smile is etched on his face hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds as they cling to his cock. Every thrust, every grind, every little whimper from your lips makes his large member throb inside you, stretching you deliciously as you plop up and down on him.

You lean down, sealing your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, your tongues twirling in a messy dance. It’s all teeth and moans again as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. It’s the type of kiss that makes time stop, like nothing else exists except for the raw, primitive connection between you two.

His hands trail up your bare back, fingers tangling in your hair, keeping you close as you grind down harder. Your bodies move in sync, perfectly attuned to each other, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you with every movement. His eyes dart down to your bouncing breasts and toned stomach, but you quickly grab his jaw, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. “Nu-uh,” you whisper against his lips, your voice tinged with authority. “Eyes on mine, boy.”

He lets off a hearty chuckle, even going so far as to wriggle your ass back against him. “You feel so damn amazing, baby,” he huffs, voice rough with desire, talking over your whiny babbles. He cranes his neck to kiss the edge of your jaw before tenderly nipping at the skin.

Panting heavily, you exhale, “I could do this all night.” Your hips move faster, sliding up and down his thick length, the friction sending bolts of euphoria through you. His breathing grows ragged, and you can feel the tension rising, winding tighter and tighter. You’re so soft—sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. He chokes when your pussy flutters—the way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.

He lets out a low groan, barely holding himself together as your walls squeeze around him. “Thaaat’s it, hngh. This pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen, realising the shift in dynamic—he’s reclaimed control, already winning ground, sis. Before you know it, his plumpish tip drills further between each corner of your dripping cunt. Your small sobs amplify as he starts to move beneath you, his hips thrusting up harder, making your entire body quake with each deep pound.

“I love fucking you so much,” he grunts, nearly whining, his head tilting back as his cock jerks inside you.

Before you can fully catch your breath, Evan’s grip tightens on your hips. With one fluid motion, he lifts you off him, his arms hook beneath your thighs. You gasp, caught off guard, your body hanging in his grasp as he stands up, practically growling with primal need.

“You’re mine now,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, sending a bolt of excitement straight down your spine.

Without hesitation, he spins you around, carrying you across the room, your legs instinctively bundling around his waist. You’re in such a sweet, sexual brain fog that it takes you a second to get what’s going on. With one swift movement, he sweeps his arm across the dining table, sending glasses, cutlery, and whatever else is there crashing to the floor in a chaotic symphony of clatters.

“Evan!” You giggle dazedly, hands clasping on his shoulders as he sets you down on the table, the cold wood against your back making you shiver—but not nearly as much as the fire blazing in his eyes.

He leans over you and shushes you with a kiss, his lips brushing against yours as he pushes your legs apart. “I’m not done with you yet.”

You don’t have time to argue—not that you want to. He grabs your hips, yanking you to the very edge of the table, his body wedged firmly between your legs. There’s no remorse in his eyes—just pure, animalistic desire. One hand snakes under your ass, the other glides down your left thigh, lifting it effortlessly over his broad shoulder. The way he leans down and looks at you now, almost in slow motion... gosh. It’s like you’re the only thing he’s ever needed… like nothing else matters but taking you right here, right now, and it sets your entire body on fire.

He wants to smash, and he’ll get it.

The scent of your cunt is intoxicating, stirring every primal instinct inside Evan that he knows he must keep in check. He draws his hips back slowly, only his tip nestling inside you, then jams just once inside you. Your whole body jumps at the impact, your pleading eyes boring deep into his, a breathy hum punched out of you. He pulls back and slams forward again, growling through his teeth. Your pillowy walls are cuddling him, his heavy balls aching to be drained, eager to breed the fertile womb his tip is wedged against.

His hands roam up your thighs, grasping you like he can’t get enough. With each slow, deliberate stroke, he sinks deeper into you, your body arching off the table in response. The sensation of him rutting in and out of your sobbing sex is overwhelming—every movement has your breath hitching, your fingers clutching the edge of the table, desperate for some kind of anchor.

Your orgasm is building again, fast and intense. As the pressure inside you give way to climax, tears cascade down your burning cheeks, your features contorted in ecstasy.

“E-Evan, I can’t take it! T-too much!”

He smirks, shaking his head. “Say please, baby,” he grits out, his voice low and commanding. His hips thrust into yours harder, making you lose all sense of logic. Your mind is blank, mouth hanging open, unable to form words as the pleasure consumes you.

“P-please,” a pained mewl tumbles out of you, and that single word tips him off the edge. His hips stutter, and with a series of deep thrusts along with a carnal chant of “ah, ah, ah, ah” pouring from his lips, he gushes inside you—creamy gooey ropes of cum dribble into you, not missing at all.

He’s panting heavily, hips jerking involuntarily as he empties himself, filling you to the brim with thick, sticky cum.

His groans of satisfaction blend with your breathy moans as you cling to him, feeling his weight stick against your skin like it’s adhesive. You bite into the soft skin of his neck, muffling your whimpers as he continues to thrust lazily, drawing out every last bit of his orgasm.

“Come for me,” he demands, his voice low and raspy, each word filled with the same raw desire that’s coursing through your veins. “I wanna feel you.”

That’s it—the words, the intensity, the feeling of him completely owning your body, claiming you in a way that makes your head spin—have you on a chokehold. You suck in lungfuls of air as the incoming pangs of orgasmic waves smash over you with impossible force. You can’t hold back the loud moans spilling from your lips, your body arching up and writhing beneath him as you come hard, your walls spasming around his cock.

He presses his forehead to yours, his hand gently stroking your cheek, his breath hot against your lips. Your body convulses uncontrollably in his arms as he rides out your climax with you, his cock still throbbing inside your over-sensitive core.

As you come down, your breaths laboured and uneven, he buries his head to your chest, his mouth warm against your skin as his kisses travel down to your boobs, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples. Each subtle touch sends aftershocks of pleasure through you, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all.

You huff, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. “You’re a menace, you know that?” you whisper, still trying to catch your breath. But he’s not done yet. You giggle softly as he moves lower, planting tingly smoochies to your skin, his breath like a warm breeze against your thighs.

“You smell like honey… I wanna taste you,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the soft curve of your inner thigh. His fingers part your sloping folds, spreading you open for him as he watches the glistening cum leak from your swollen pussy. His primitive need to eat you up tests his sense of control.

His tongue plunges between your labia, stretching them up with a slow and deliberate lick. Your thighs quiver around his head in the aftershocks of your climax, straining moans and semi-shrieks falling from your lips as his tongue dives deeper between your folds. The wet sound of him slurping up the mix of your juices and his cum is obscene, but it only drives you wilder, especially as he mumbles the moto, “Y/N... Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Your fingers lace in his drenched thick, curly brown locks, holding him in place. The untamed animal inside him is finally sated, fed well at the meal between your thighs. His teeth sink ever-so-lightly into the plump pout of your lips, and you can’t stop the desperate little wails flipping from your throat.

Your eager pussy can’t help but drool. Streams of your slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers. With a rosy flat tongue, he pads and licks you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers in—only to push them right back out. As he re-enters, he pokes against your g-spot again, and again, and again…

That’s all it takes for the sharp twisting coil to snap within you for the second time, and your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp. “Fuck, fuck,” you choke out, your breath coming in hollow bursts as you feel his hushed praises and loving words ghost against your clit. You can’t stay still for the life of you—it’s as if every muscle in your body rips apart once you come into his mouth, your jaw slackened and your eyes widened.

“Ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and Evan’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

You’re making a mess out of him, and he’s still eating it up—the dedication. His chin got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your slick running down. With an echoing pop, he slides his fingers off your pussy, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. The shaking from your multiple orgasmic release keeps on, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.

“Mmph, Y/N. So beautiful,” he cries out, his voice cracking with emotion as he presses a kiss to your swollen, sensitive lips. Your sweet slickness smears against his stubble even more, but he couldn’t care less. All that matters is you, lying there beneath him, glowing with the outcome of your pleasure.

Evan’s gaze lingers on you for a long moment, his chest still heaving as he melts in the sight of you—flushed, trembling, thoroughly wrecked from the intensity of what just happened. His hand gently strokes your thigh, trailing up and down in soothing circles as the both of you come down from the high together.

Propping your weight on your elbows, you stare down on him, a lazy grin playing at the corners of your lips. You pull him up for a sloppy, rough kiss. Your fingers pinch on his well-defined jaw as he rests on top of her. You can feel his stiff length press against her stomach, and it feels great.

You reach up to brush his damp hair from his forehead. “You really know how to leave a girl breathless,” you mumble teasingly, though your voice is barely above a whisper, still catching.

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your palm. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, and you giggle softly, the sound light and airy.

You lay there for a while, the after-sex haze still buzzing through your veins. Evan’s sprawled out on the sofa, shirtless. His hair is all tousled, looking like some kind of model from a cologne ad—except sexier, and definitely more accessible. You watch him, feeling a dopey grin spread across your face. This man… God, this man.

You pull yourself up, snuggling into that familiar blue blanket from the edge of the couch—the one you always steal when it’s movie night, or when you’re feeling cosy after a particularly intense workout (aka “fuck time”).

“You look like a smurf burrito,” Evan quips, his hand lazily draped across his abs as he watches you pace around the room.

You snort, cuddling deeper into the blanket. “Better than looking like a sweaty, shirtless disaster.” You throw him a wink and a brow waggle, but honestly, the view is prime real estate right now. That man should charge admission.

He smirks smugly, running a hand through his messy curls. “Sweaty, shirtless disaster, huh? I was under the impression you were enjoying said disaster inside you just a few minutes ago.”

“Touché,” you giggle as you flop down the sofa, letting your head fall back against the armrest. “But the jury’s still out on whether I enjoyed it or tolerated it.”

“Oh, is that so?” His eyebrow quirks, and that playful gleam you love so much flickers back in his eyes. He leans forward, crawling towards you on the sofa with that predator-like grace, his hands landing on either side of your bundled-up self.

“Maybe.” You bite your lip, trying to keep a straight face, but your heart's already doing flips at the way he’s looking at you. Damn, those eyes.

“Hmm. Well, maybe I should just—” Evan dips down, his lips grazing your ribcage, making you gasp. You wriggle away playfully, pulling the blanket up higher as if it’s some kind of armour.

“Okay, okay! I loved it. Five stars on Yelp, glowing review and a side of fries.” You’re laughing now, barely able to keep up the act.

Evan chuckles triumphantly, that warm, rumbling sound that makes your pulse leap in your throat. “Five stars? Well, that must make me the Michelin Man of love.”

“Please,” you laugh, “the only thing you’re qualifying for is most likely to be found with a pizza slice in hand.”

His grin widens, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. “Well, speaking of pizza, how about we start planning our wedding menu? I’m thinking pepperoni and extra cheese for the wedding cake. You know, something to make the guests feel like they’re in a pizzeria.”

You roll your eyes, giggling at his ridiculousness. “So, pizza-themed wedding, huh? What are we going to serve? Breadsticks as the bouquet?”

“Absolutely! And the best part? I’ll have a pepperoni ring!” He starts mimicking a ring toss, and you can’t help but crack up.

“Oh wow, my future husband is a real romantic,” you say, shaking your head in mock disbelief.

But then Evan leans in closer, his expression turning serious, and you feel the air shift. “But really, I want to make sure I don’t just slice into this whole ‘life together’ thing. I want to do it right. So, how about we order that wedding cake now because…” He reaches into his pocket, and your heart skips a beat as he pulls out a small velvet box.

You narrow your eyes in suspicion as you sit up. “What are you doing? Is this some kind of prank”

“Well, not exactly a prank. Unless you think proposing is some kind of joke.”

Your heart stops.

“What?” The word barely squeaks out, and you’re pretty sure your brain just exploded. Did he—did he just say proposing?

Evan’s mouth pulls into this soft smile, and before you know it, he’s dropping to one knee on the sofa. “I mean, I’ve got the ring and all that the protocol requires,” he mutters and your eyes bulge, mouth agape. “...and I don’t want to waste another minute from making you my wife!”

Your heart stops.

You leap up from the sofa, shaky hands flying to your mouth, shock flooding your system. The blanket almost slips off, eyes wide and heart pounding like you’re on the world’s most chaotic and steepest rollercoaster. Did he—did he also just say wife? “Are you serious?”

“Y/N,” he starts, his voice a little shaky but full of that Evan confidence that always makes you feel like the only person in the room, “I’ve been through a lot lately. We both have. But the one constant through it all—through the tough days and the good ones, the sleepless nights and the mornings I wake up next to you—is that I want every single day to be with you.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this.

“From the moment I saw you in that club, I never looked away. We started off with a bang, quite literally, but I’ve felt like I’ve known you my whole life and won the love lottery. You’re my jackpot. The reason I smile—even when I feel like I’ve hit every bump on the road. You make even the ordinary feel extraordinary, and I want to make this last forever.”

Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, he’s really doing this. Your pulse hammers so loud you swear he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“So here I am, making it official, ready to take a gamble on the biggest bet of my life. Will you marry me and make me the luckiest man on the planet?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a subtle and stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart throbs so hard, you’re sure it’ll burst out of your chest.

“You drive me crazy in the best way possible. You’re my best friend, my partner in crime, my favourite person to order burgers with. I want to spend the rest of my life making you laugh, making you mad, and maybe every now and then... sweeping plates off the table to get to you faster.” He smirks, his eyes twinkling.

“Evan!” you gasp, half-laughing through your tears, remembering the chaos from a few minutes ago.

He chuckles heartily, but there’s something so tender in his expression now. “So, will you do me the honour of marrying me?” He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen—a simple yet stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.

You can’t even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart is pounding so hard you’re sure he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.

“Yes!” you shout, your voice breaking with joy as you toss the blanket aside and fling yourself into his arms, knocking him backward onto the sofa. He laughs as you straddle his waist, hugging him tight, tears of joy streaming down your face.

“I love you,” you whisper breathlessly, kissing him hard, your heart swelling with so much love it feels like it might burst.

“I love you too,” he murmurs, smiling up at you as you kiss him again, both of you tangled in this beautiful, overwhelming moment.

He slips the ring onto your finger, and you hold your hand up, marvelling at how perfectly it fits—how perfectly it all fits.

And as you both lie there, wrapped up in each other and the ridiculousness of the moment, Evan chuckles. “So, Smurf burrito, looks like you’re stuck with me for life.”

You laugh, smothering his face with smoochies of aggressive cuteness magnitude. “Lucky me. Now... about those burgers? I’m still hungry.”

Evan grins, pulling you closer. “First, how about I show you just how well I can speak your love language?”

“Burgers first, then more disaster sex,” you tease, giggling as he tries to tickle you.

“Deal,” he whispers, stealing another kiss, because honestly, in this moment, you’re the best thing on the menu.

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling, @babymazz

Announcement

This might not be a forever goodbye, and who knows, a spinoff of this series might pop up someday, but this is going to be the final part, y’all. I’ll admit, I sometimes feel like I’m navigating through a tiny room with towering walls in this digital space; like my creative expression is being restricted and policed, and I cannot fully communicate or channel my “writing persona,” if you will, in here. Still, every bit of your love and support has made it worth it. I’ve poured so much into this world, and Evan, well… he’s been an incredible muse through it all. So, thanks a bunch, truly. xx

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fakescenariosbeforesleepblog · 8 months ago

Text

What did you just say? Pt. 2.

Aegon x FEM reader.

Aegon confronts his mother, the truth leaves his mouth as the fire leaves the snout of his dragon. To his surprise you don't share the same desires of being with him anymore.

Warning: maybe it wasn't as good as the first part lol. Grammatical and spelling errors, maybe a Dark obsessed Aegon at the end but nothing very serious.

Credits of these gifs to whoever they belong to

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

(...) The goblet In his hand flew to the other side of the room, tension filled the room, silence was uncomfortable, then, Aegon simply asked.

- What did you just say?

Poor servant, avoiding Aegon's look, he simply muttered and kneeled down.

- I... Said lady y/n is pregnant... please Forgive me my king, I beg for your pardon.

Aegon didn't understand why the servant was apologizing, he only rolled his eyes, he was furious, fire was running through his body.

- Get up and leave. ALL OF YOU, LEAVE! I need to talk with my mother. NOW!

Everybody left the room in an instant, Alicent was in the same place, she didn't move but was also avoiding to see her son.

- Look at me and tell me you didn't know about this, mother.

She looked at him but was speechless, there were no words.

- TELL ME YOU DIDN'T!

She felt fear, she was always behind him, she was always the one who reprimanded him, but right now, she's feeling like a little kid In trouble.

- Aegon, you have to understand...

- Understand what? Is it not enough that we're all dragged into this unhappy family, full of hypocrisy and sadness for all your decisions? Your decisions had taken us to misery, my sister is right, if you weren't so blind and full of hate against Rhaenyra our story would be different.

- This, is totally unfair, You have no idea of the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne.

- A throne I never asked for! This is all your Father wants! You've been so blind, thinking you're doing all this because of the safety of the crown, your family and the kingdom when In fact, it is only that old man's desire, to see his own blood sitting on that stupid chair!

- ENOUGH!.

Aegon's point of view wasn't totally wrong, he always saw his grandfather as a spider knitting its web waiting for its prey, like a moth attracted to the brilliant things, waiting for the right moment to get inside and be around the warm and brightest light, an opportunist, that's how Aegon secretly always described his grandfather. He sighed, clearly annoyed.

-...When did you receive the news of her marriage?

- Months ago, I received a letter when she was betrothed to him... and later another one arrived with the news of her wedding, but I can promise you that I don't know nothing about her pregnancy, I doubt she is pregnant.

Her words are honest but not reassuring enough to calm Aegon.

- Do you see me, mother? Do you see how painful it is for me? This marriage with my own sister, this crown over my head that I never wanted. Your decisions had been brought pain not only for me but for my siblings too. You hate Rhaenyra for all the things you consider wrong and improper , but I've done all of them too, and you hide them and pretend we're the good ones, it's pure hypocrisy. Helaena could be happier if you accepted the proposal of marriage with Jace or even if you married her to Aemond she would be happier, I could be happier if I were married with (y/n) and you wouldn't have your youngest son far from you and his true home, but no... Here we are, with a war knocking on our door, our family crumbling and with my beloved In the arms of that fuckin' wolf In the north!

Alicent approached Aegon, trying to be a loving mother, her hands on Aegon's cheeks, she can see his eyes, there's anger, pain and deception. She's trying to convince him that your marriage can bring good things in his favor.

- Aegon, you cannot see it now, but the marriage of lady (y/n) with Cregan Stark could be useful, she will do anything you asked her, she will ally to us in this war if it's necessary. Your brothers will fight at your side and your wife and children will be there too.

Aegon gave a step back, neglecting with his head, his face only shows how disgusted he feels. He never expected kind words from her but also not this kind of poorly try to calm him down, at this point he feels like he's trapped, he's a little boy trapped in a man's body, he wants to run away from that room, he needs to calm himself before doing something he could regret later.

Suddenly, your voice and the memory of your face, your hands and the affection between you and him filled his mind. You were his safe place years ago and yet, he still thinks about you when he feels lost and suffocated.

He left the room while Alicent was yelling his name, some guards tried to go behind him but he stopped us, he only wanted a person close to him, You.

He arrived at the dragon's pitch, Sunfyre his precious Dragon sensed instantly Aegon's emotions and roared to let Aegon know it was ready to fly away with him.

And that's what they did, Aegon disappeared in the sky, the clouds covered them, it was possible to hear them but to see in what direction they went wasn't that easy.

You were in your chambers resting when one of your ladies appeared, pallid as snow.

- My lady. There's... A... A dragon landed not so far from the castle.

You sit on your bed quickly, it is not possible, you try to calm yourself thinking it can be any dragon.

- A dragon? Which one?

- I'm not sure, it looked like a golden dragon, shined like the sun.

No, no, no. The fear of seeing him after all this time has appeared and grown inside you.

- What do we have to do my lady?

- Bring my coat, we have to welcome our unexpected guest by our own since Cregan is not here.

As soon as you arrived at the hall of the castle, Aegon was already there, waiting.

- My... (You doubted) King. What do we owe the honor of your visit?

- Lady (y/n), I recently found out about your marriage, I merely came to give you my congratulations.

- Thank you, my king, I've been blessed with such a wonderful marriage with a good lord.

- Where's he?

- Hunting, we weren't expecting visitors or he would be here to give you a proper welcome.

- That's fine, lady (y/n) I would like to have a private audience with you.

You looked at your ladies and knights, you didn't say a word but they understood instantly and left you alone with Aegon.

- What are the real motives of your visit... My king?

- there's no need for such formalities (Y/n)...

- Well, tell me Aegon, what are you doing here?

- I came here... To take you with me.

You are in shock, while he is walking to you, getting more and more close.

- Pardon?

- Come with me, we will annul our marriages, now that I'm king, only my word is the law. We can finally marry as it was planned years ago.

You're still surprised, you haven't moved from your place, he doesn't wait and hugs you, you can feel his nose in the crook of your neck, it's just like when you were children, he was always hiding his face in your neck while you were hugging each other, it was innocent and pure. But you two are not children anymore, both are married now, he's father and king now, you're married and soon to be mother, you haven't bled In two moons or more, your breast started to grow and hurt a little, and all your ladies had told you you look different, more beautiful, Cregan said to you that being pregnant with a boy brings more beauty to some women.

You kindly stepped back, you will not leave your husband or your new home just for an old childhood love. Aegon doesn't look surprised by your reaction.

- You don't smell like the roses anymore, now you smell like forest and berries.

- I've changed, you don't smell like cotton and Oak either, you smell like ashes and sea. You've changed too, my king.

- Probably we changed, but I'm sure our feelings are still the same (y/n) please let's go, you don't belong here, your place is at my side... Please.

His pleading eyes are like knives in your heart, but there's no way this works, people will speak, your parents will abandon you, you know a war is coming and you know who your house will support. And there's Cregan, the man of your dreams, the one who took his time to know all about you, the man who patiently won your trust and your heart, he made you a promise under the God's tree, you did too and you will not break it.

- We're adults now, Aegon, those dreams were erased, I'm married and I love him, a wolf grows inside me, I will not leave nothing of this just for an old children's dream, I moved on.

Aegon's eyes are full of tears, you're breaking his heart, but someone needs to be right-minded. You're observing him with sadness and pity while him is remembering what Alicent told him. You would do anything he asked you, maybe his mother is right, if he can't have you as wife, at least he can have you as an ally.

- I understand, you're right, I'm being a fool and I ask you to forgive me.

- It's okay Aegon...

You held his hand and squeezed it, he's contemplating the small interaction and then he looks into your eyes.

- I want to ask you for something else too.

- Go on, tell me.

- People say a war is coming, my question or the favor I want to ask for, is, will your house and the north join me?

You know the answer to that, you know your house and the north decisions are, even you have your own decision. Maybe you can avoid this uncomfortable moment.

- Aegon... I beg for your pardon but I cannot decide the loyalty of my house or my husband's house on my own. If you wish, you can stay and wait, my husband and I will discuss and consider your proposition.

He smiled at you, certainly he's not pleased with your response, he simply whispered in your ear.

- You're a terrible liar, Lady (Y/n), your decision is already taken, isn't it?... Don't worry, I forgive you, but remember this, After I win this war, I'll be back here and I'll take you with me, I will not have the kindness to ask for your permission or opinion, I will be back for you.

He left a kiss in your cheek and your hand, then he left without saying anything else, the roaring of a dragon echoed through the castle, your ladies appeared just in time to catch you, you fainted.

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a-twistedheartslonging · 7 months ago

Note

Could I ask for courting/relationship headcanons for my pathetic boy Idia in your AU?

Sorry, this took a while.

Man, poor OG Idia already has it hard as a cursed human, he's not the type to make the first move, even with his brother providing him with all the evidence and statistics showing him that you would accept his feelings.

But now we're adding him being a big spider with those courting and mating instincts that conflict with the guy's other anxiety-driven instincts telling him to avoid it all and that everything would go wrong and that you would tell him “Ew no, you're a gross spider that’s blue all over.” and then poke him with a stick.

Most spiders tend to be solitary creatures, they don't live in groups and only come together when it's time to find a mate. It doesn't happen all the time but it’s common for the males to get eaten after mating or even before they have the chance to when their advances are rejected. Now that is for regular spiders but there might be a chance of it if you go up to the wrong person and these guys still have those instincts telling them to be warry thanks to their ancestors. People always say “The worst that can happen is they say no.” But really there's the chance they might say “Ew no” which is way worse. Or the extra way way worse when you are a spider cuz your crush might get freaking aggressive with you and take a bite out of you. You being a little human def ease his worry about the latter, but not the former.

It's later after you guys start to hang out that he starts to be a snarky little shit, who knew such an anxious guy could have so much sass. He’s a weird combination of having issues with self-loathing while also having a big ego. It's one of those times where he starts mouthing off that you do actually try to bite him, he was legit scared for a sec but once he saw those little teeth of yours couldn’t even make a scratch on the exoskeleton on his arm, he gets super freaking smug, and now he’s even more of a shit when teasing you.

With Idia romantic feelings will develop slowly over time after becoming friends though. It's def a new feeling for him, he gives me demi-ace vibes and I think this would be the first time he had this kind of interest in a real person, it was always fictional characters before.

But also I feel like with him it could turn into him thinking these fillings are just how it feels when you have a best friend since he’s only had his brother for all those years and you're the first person outside of his family that he felt this comfortable around and when he actually does these courting behaviors its subconscious and his instincts are kicking in and his brother is actually the one to point it out.

The male of the orb weaver family (Araneidae) and some others court by rhythmically plucking the threads of a web. After the female approaches, he pats and strokes her before mating. I head canon that not only is he able to create webs but they are cool and glowy and he makes a cool hammock for you to chill in sometimes or even hang out with him on one he made for himself…and then without thinking when you're leaning against him and enjoying the soft blue floof of his legs he gives you a few gentle pats and baps with spider paw and Ortho lets out a gasp and startles him. Oh, he gets so embarrassed once Ortho starts asking him about how long he’s been courting you and how he’s so proud that he made the first move despite his anxiety. Hopefully, he does his questioning after you're out of the room.

(Oh, to be patted by one of his cute spooder paws.)

Or perhaps…he pulls a male wolf spider and ends up doing that purr after you say or do something that hits him in those feelings and oh boy, he is so embarrassed when he realizes he did it thanks to your excited reaction to hearing it. Though it hurts his ego a bit when you squeal about how cute it is…I mean…even if he didn't mean to do it, it was supposed to be sexy…still with spiders if you're rejected you either get ignored or attacked…even though he knows better, the inhuman part of his brain is telling him your positive reaction is a “yes” to getting with him which lends to him actually considering that this might actually work out and that Ortho is right.

youtube

(Tbh I don't get why the video says it's creepy, it kind of sounds like bird sounds to me.)

Silk-wrapped gifts and offerings, expect snacks and games. Though admittedly he’s going to give you ones that he wants you to play with him. Beating a boss in co-op counts as a date…right? Right. Best believe he’s gonna be getting you hard-to-get items in game, armor, and whatever else. It’s easy to forget his rich until he gets you some decked-out gaming computer or that handheld you wanted, all wrapped in glowing blue silk of course. Actually, driders giving gifts made of their silk is very much a thing they do but Idia mostly does small simple things, expect to get really cool bracelets and hair ties infused with his scent. He gets so happy and so smug if he sees you wearing them.

I found out recently that another thing some males will do is do sort of a silk-involved message, though I think that is another thing he would do after you guys start dating and not before to...get you in the mood.

The massaging motions of the spider are officially called mate binding. Basically, the male massages the female, so that she'll allow him to mate with her, without killing him before he gets the chance. The male spider releases silk over the back of the female as he massages her. The same study also suggested that it was the feeling of the massage that soothed the female, and not the smell of the silk as some scientists suggested.

NSFW: I just found out that Darwin’s bark spiders figured out they're less likely to get eaten by ladies if they do oral. Do with that info what you may.

#suggestive #kind of on the last two points #twisted wonderland #twst #ask #asks #twst x reader #nonhuman au #twst idia #twisted wonderland idia #idia shroud #drider #spider #spooder

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plantyberry · 14 days ago

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Part 10: Chapter 2-2, or, 'I cast: Summon soulmate!'

I have no excuse for what comes next, other than "I am very distractible your honor".

Cuckoo points

When watching the TV with Adrian (after Lorelei appears) -My spidey senses are tingling. +1 Cuckoo

When the barrier goes up: -I burst out singing the infamous Doom Song. +1 Cuckoo

Walking through the forest: -I just keep a watchful eye out for any potential lurking yeti. +1 Cuckoo

Baby's first spell: -"IÃ! IÃ Cthulhu fhtagn! Ph'nglui mglw'nafh cthulhu r'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!" +1 Cuckoo -I know what I must do. And that means beginning to dance the Macarena. +1 Cuckoo --I wonder if pocket snakes and pocket spiders can get along well together? +1 Cuckoo

If you STILL didn't get your cursed mark healed and you have a gun, throw it at the hellhound. +1 Cuckoo

If you are an Imposter, after the suspicious billboard appears: -"I thought I just saw a mutant wolf-bear-shark/zombie standing by the side of the road!" +1 Cuckoo

Upon meeting Percy, if you are his soulmate: -Oh my god, it's my soul mate! +1 Cuckoo

Before the introductions: -This is in preparation for the lunatic asylum, obviously. +1 Cuckoo

Percy's 20 Questions: -How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? +1 Cuckoo

The chess game (Must know SOMETHING about Arthurial lore) -A fine tradition just so long as a chess set doesn't go zooming around the room +1 Cuckoo

Rock Paper Scissors contest: -Never mind, all this. I begin dancing the Tango de la Muerte. +1 Cuckoo

Final round of the Rock Paper Scissors against Merlin: -I begin imagining a naked Homer Simpson seductively dancing around while singing "Meow, meow, meow!" +1 Cuckoo

The Chess: -I flick my marble and knock several of my opponents' pieces out of their peg holes. +1 Cuckoo

How to Soulmate Percy T. Longspear

I noticed several people were asking, so now you shall receive!

You need: Cuckoo over 30 And Corruption under 0 Will rating over 7 a Hero score over 0 Sweet over 100 or two-faced(Sweet) Purity over 3

A rather hefty list when ou think about it, but easier to think about when breaking it down.

Cuckoo Score >= 30

The cuckoo score is what my entire guide is about, but there are ways to determine how high yours is during the game:

After the dream sequence, if cuckoo > 30: "Hello, can you hear me?" During the mysterious quotes.

When casting the spell to detect a harbinger, if cuckoo>30: A moment of startlement and someone reaches forth." There you are "And with that, it vanishes.

(In other words, Percy reaches out to you through the Malkavian Network Cuckoo Sensor)

If either of those appear for you in-game, you're golden.

Hero > 0

The hero score is a tally of your 'heroic' actions. You gain 1 point when you WILLINGLY rescue your clubmate and another when you try protecting Adriand from the hellhound (must pass the fear check)

Purity >=3

Purity is the easiest: Be a general heroic do-gooder. Don't steal, don't swear, ever (seriously, swearing too much actually tanks your purity), and don't get mindcontrolled. In 2-2, when confronted to the choice about swearing, picking the first option (As usual my mind remains pure and free of any swear words that might fit this exact situation.) already gives you +2. If you went to the rescue during Club? Gain +1. If you tried protecting Adrian from the hellhound? Another +1 and enough to put you in the clear.

Warning: Picking Serial Killer will give you a grand total of -1000 purity, therefore locking you out of soulmate status automatically

Sweet >= 100 or two-faced(Sweet)

Sweet is self-explanatory and I'm not high enough on sugar to even think about making a Sweet Guide. Pick the general 'nice' options and it should be easy.

Will >=7

The Big One, the options to gain some Will aren't that common, sooooo, I guess… SneakyWillPointsGuideUpToMeetingPercyGO! (Ignoring the mind control, demon mark shenanigans, and the will loss mitigations though (they're not net positives after all))

An impromptu Will points guide!

Prologue:

Wake Up: +1 Will

In the Apartment:

Childhood (Amnesia): will +1 After the TV turns itself on, keep turning it off until you get the Sysiphus achievement: will +1 Hobby (Criminal): will +1 BUT Also gives +1 Corruption Phone (Juke): will +1 Try to exorcise the TV: will +1

Adrian Convo:

Be stubborn about your outfit choices (dresses, tux, Spandex…). One example is the infamous Tange de la Muerte episode (complete with Keikaku achievement). will +1 If you're a security guard, refuse to run away and tell Adrian what happened in the Parking Lot: will +1 Talk about intrusive thoughts and give him a rundown of the ones you've had: will +1 Ask about the apocalypse and when asked about why, reply with "Meta Knowledge": will +1 BUT Also gives +1 Corruption

Polo Club:

Deny foreshadowing 7 times. will +1 Talent(Lucid dreamer) will +1 If you fell off your horse: I somewhat painfully rise to my feet under my own power. will +1 During the match, ignore everything and "I ignore everything else and keep my eyes riveted to the lurching void that shambles ever closer." will +1 (your vice must NOT be Greed) Successfully rescue Pippa: will +1

Fencing Club:

On the way to the club, keep your eyes on the prize: will +1 Keep procrastinating and avoid changing/delay 4 times: will +1 (If your vice is Sloth, gain +1 Vice level which is… Ominous.) In the Stalls, when told to come out and play: -Scream bloody murder for Adrian, then refuse to move: will +1 -Pull out your weapon at the ready: will +1 Talent(Lucid dreamer) will +1 Before the match: I gravely inform the audience that only masked eyes are allowed to behold my full splendor. will +1 (Need Cuckoo >4) During the sword match, before the sword breaks: I concentrate fully on the fencing bout I'm currently engaged in. will +1 After the match, try changing in the Changing rooms with Brenda: will +1

Fencing failure (Paramedic): Immediately start applying pressure on Zain (Don't go for the station): -I just focus on my work right in front of me. Complexion pale. No stridor or wheezing. Was it just the sight of all the blood that caused him to lose consciousness? will +1

Sword Club Bad end (Paramedic) -Still I plod on. This is why I'm a paramedic. will +1

As far as secrets go, being a serial killer gives you will +1 while lying about your amnesia gives you will +3

The Time Bubble:

If Fear checked against hellhound pass: -I pull out my weapon from its bag. It's better than nothing. will +1 -I protectively step in front of Adrian, much to his great consternation. will +1

When arriving to your building, take the stairs. will +1 STOICALLY plod your way up the stairs. will +1 Ignore Adrian's advice: will +1 In front of your apartment: Never mind going into my apartment. Let's stay in the corridor. will +1 Inside your apartment: I REFUSE TO GO TO SLEEP! will +1

If you failed the check and the Hydra grabs you: -I tear my weapon free. will +1 -I desperately cling on to anything within reach. will +1

If successfully escaped they Hydra: -I calmly open the door and inform the new visitor/s about a potential monster infestation. will +1

Look through the peephole, then open the door to slam it in their face again. will +1 (This WILL give you -10 Sweet, so not the best if you're aiming for Percy)

If Merlin ends up having to blow up your door: I just pull forth my handy weapon and wave it menacingly at the interloper. will +1 (-5 Sweet on that one. Once again, to avoid)

Refuse healing: will +1

Merlin's infodump and preparing to leave:

If turned into a duck: -I'm a duck. I've got wings now. I can fly. I know what I must do. To infinity and beyond! will +1

Categorically refuse to join the adventure: will +1(And increases Denial)

Don't take anything with you on this quest: will +1

Don't take a full inventory with you on this quest: will +1

Leaving the house: Dance in the enevator, then go for the Tango de la Muerte for the Coup the Grâce. will +1

When thinking back about the apartment: My thoughts are my own alone. will +1

Dream sequence: (Must be Lucid Dreamer)

Speaking with Merlin: "Merlin… say my name." will +1 Fighting with Lancelot: This is a dicey game to play, but even so… I'll push my luck as a dreamer here! will +1 When adventuring with Arthur: This is the memory of a dream that I now walk. And so I'll force the knowledge of where the fae awaits into my very mind and take action at that. will +1 At the end of the dream, turn around and catch the hand. will +1

In the RV

Ignore Merlin's warning and pick up the phone anyway. will +1 (Corrupt +1)

In the Parking lot:

If Kidnapped: Try to escape (need will>7) will +1 Follow Merlin (need will>7) will +1 -Keep trying to find him. will +1 --Look up. will +1 --Protect your neck. will +1 --- No really… what had Merlin truly been doing out here? will +1

In the shop:

Talking with Adrian about that 'Benoni' Surname: Married. "It makes the most sense" will +1 If you smoke and Adrian lost your lighter: redirect him towards one of those multi-use utility lighters. will +1

#oks #one knight stand #oks mc #oks cuckoomc

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sugarzandsweetz · 1 year ago

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Wardrobe Malfunction (Miguel O’Hara x (y/n))

Lyla decides to mess with Miguel as he is talking to one of his colleague that he has some feelings for.

*inspired by a comic I saw on TikTok)

*Y/n is gender neutral

_____________________________________________

Miguel may not posses spidey-sense as many of the spider people in Alchemex, but he does know when there are eyes on him.

“Why are you staring at me?” Miguel asked, not sounding bothered but a bit curious. The spider glances away from his many computer screen to the other spider in the room. He feels a bit warm in his cheeks as Miguel notices how they are eyeing his form.

“What kind of material is your suit made out of?” asked (y/n), the spider from Earth 0923. Their designation: the Wolf Spider.

Their pupils seem to narrow into slits as (y/n) studies Miguel’s form.

Due to being bitten by a radioactive wolf spider, (y/n) has developed the many attributes of one. Insane eyesight, good hunting skills, and amazing agility. They have become one of Miguel’s top spider people as (y/n) has proven to be loyal and quick at executing a mission.

But some people are wondering if there is another reason why Miguel always has (y/n) around.

Miguel looks down at his suit for a second before looking back at (y/n)

“Why?” he asked.

“Well, my suit is made out of a cotton blend mixed with some elastic component so that it’s comfortable and breathable.” (Y/n) said, pulling on one of their sleeves. The material snaps back onto their skin when (y/n) lets go. “The spiders here wear spandex, armor, robot suits, or fur—in that werewolf’s case.”

(Y/n) leans in to study Miguel’s body.

“Yet, I can’t see what your suit is made of.” (Y/n) said, pouting.

For some reason, Miguel feels a tad proud to tell them. “My suit is made of special nanotechnology.” he boasted, demonstrating by causing the sleeve of his right arm to disappear and reappear. “It’s like a hologram almost.”

“Don’t act so high and mighty! Like you know how to design it!” snipped Lyla as the AI flickers into thin air. “Do you know how hard it was to design nano tech that can’t be traced or hacked into?”

Miguel glares at Lyla for ruining the moment. “Are you serious right now? You designed the suit while I did the calculations!” he hissed, flashing his fangs at Lyla. “You nearly made me look like some multicolored clown!”

“Yes, and now you look like some scary crusader!”

“Tu poco—“

Before Miguel can finish his curse in Spanish, (y/n) speaks up.

“Does this mean it’s like some holo screen?” (Y/n) asked, suddenly revealing that they are right in front of Miguel.

Miguel takes a step back, startled by (y/n)’s close proximity. The Hispanic male is stuck staring into their eyes as they view him curiously.

“Uh, I guess if you put it like that.” Miguel said.

“Hmm.” (Y/n) said, making a funny face.

Seeing (y/n) make such a face gives Miguel the strong urge to grab their cheeks and squeeze them. (Y/n) always makes the most interesting faces. It’s what of the reasons Miguel likes them.

“Aren’t you worried it’ll fizz out? Like a broken computer cutting out suddenly?” (Y/n) asked curiously.

That question catches Miguel off guard.

“I don’t see that happening. Besides, how could something like that happen?” he asked, almost insulted at the idea.

This is 2099 technology. He’s perfected crossing into other dimensions without going through spontaneous disruption of his molecules. If he can’t handle putting together a high-tech suit, how can Miguel call himself a scientist.

“Oh, maybe like this!” Lyla spoke up before there is a clicking noise.

At first, Miguel doesn’t notice anything off. Not until he sees (y/n)‘a face turn a bright red.

“Spider-Man underwear?” (Y/n) said with a squeak.

“WHAA?!”

Miguel looks down and squawks when he realizes his suit has disappeared and he is now in his underwear.

“LYLA!” Miguel roared, realizing what Lyla has done. The AI is laughing her ass off as she watches Miguel hide behind a chair.

“I’m going to go!” (Y/n) said quickly as they spin around and hurried out of the room.

“Dammit Lyla! Why did you do that?!” Miguel yelled as his suit returns.

“What? I thought showing off your body will help you get bonus points with (y/n)!” Lyla said.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? NO ME AYUDES!”

#x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #spider man: across the spider verse #spider man 2099 #miguel o’hara x you

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sunflowersandsapphires · 1 year ago

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Fall Drabbles, Day 1

prompt: Spiders

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

summary: Frank is not a fan of spiders.

warnings: swearing, sickly sweet fluff, descriptions of bugs (most bugs do not bother me so I don't think its super graphic but I could see people with fears/issues w spiders being grossed out so I'll warn you. Please let me know if its too much!)

a/n: I was in a really bad slump this week where I had the energy and time to write but none of my serieses (is that the right plural lol) were sparking joy. So I started writing some little pieces for Matty and Frank and I'm very excited to share them!

w/c: <1k words

Manhattan contained a variety of urban pests that Frank never had a problem with. Squishing roaches and chasing off rats came naturally after a lifetime in the city, and Frank never batted an eye. Flies, leeches, mosquitoes, Frank didn't have a problem with any of the traditionally abhorred creatures--except for one. Spiders.

Frank blamed his extensive time overseas for his…intense dislike of spiders. He didn’t particularly like them before Afghanistan, but regularly seeing arachnids that are half a foot long or venomous enough to put a linebacker in the ER? It’ll put them on your shit list real quick.

So yah, Frank was not a fan of spiders. But he didn’t readily volunteer this information after realizing that most of the population—his compassionate girlfriend included—found it amusing when hulking, grown-ass men had issues with bugs. The first time he’d seen a spider at your apartment, the thing had chased him on top of the coffee table as he let out a string of curses—a scenario that had humored you to the point of tears.

“It’s just a wolf spider, Frankie. It’s not gonna hurt ya.” You’d giggled, scooping the damn thing into a cup and letting it out a window. Serves him right for having a soft spot for kind women, he ended up with a godforsaken spider saver.

Thankfully, you had enough love for your boyfriend that you tended to rescue said eight-legged things before he ever spotted them. (Though, now that he thought about it, that could be for their benefit rather than his.) Regardless, it meant that his distrust of spiders went pretty much unnoticed…until fall rolled around.

New York was palatable in most seasons, and Frank was more than used to extreme temperatures, which meant the weather wasn't the reason he hated autumn so much. It was the goddamn bugs. Every year, without fail, those spindly hellspawn would take shelter in his apartment the moment the climate shifted. This year was no different, with Frank having to chuck his boots and random household objects at the creatures as they scuttled across his floor in an effort to stop them from laying eggs in his walls. If he didn't know better, he'd think they were taunting him. Maybe he should start mounting their heads on toothpicks along his front door.

Grumpily plotting their annihilation, he drained the rest of his shitty coffee before shoving his mug across the dark wooden table. His aversion to spiders wasn't so great that it regularly added to his insomnia, but waking up to a spider crawling over his pillow had been enough to force him out of bed for the night.

Pushing his aching body away from the dining room table, he shuffled blearily to the couch, crumbling into a horizontal position and turning on the tv. The mindless cable channel allowed his mind to enter a state of hibernation, laying there like a corpse as dawn came and went. A sudden knock jolted him out of his daze.

“Frankie?” Letting yourself into his tidy apartment, you tutted in sympathy when you saw him slumped on the couch. ”Here, I brought coffee.“

”'re we doin' somethin' today?“ Frank rasped, gratefully accepting the offered paper cup and taking a swig.

You giggled. “You asked me to come over at 3 am. You said you wanted me to, and I quote, 'bring poison for the squatters that keep crawling into bed with you.' Thankfully, I am fluent in exhausted Frank because that could have been very alarming to wake up to otherwise.” Perching on the cushion his torso was on, you set a bag of assorted items on the floor. Threading a hand into his hair, you studied the purple tinge under his eyes. “Did you sleep at all, sugar?”

Shaking his head, Frank let his eyes fall closed as you kneaded at his scalp. “Sorry I texted ya, I don't remember doin' that.”

“Not a problem, pumpkin. Sounds like you might need some back up if the squatters have been causing so much trouble.”

“Meant spiders.” He groaned, gesturing in the direction of his front door. “Damn things are buildin' an army in here.”

You chuckled. “How about you take a nap while I handle the spiders, hmm?”

Nodding tiredly, Frank shifted into a more comfortable position and llet his head thunk against the armrest.

Rolling your eyes, you poked his shoulder. “I meant in bed, tough guy.”

Pretending not to hear you, Frank simply flipped over. Smirking at your exasperated grumble, he settled in for a nap. Before nodding off, his heart swelled with affection as you threw a blanket over his body and slid a pillow under his head. “Sleep well, sugar.”

As he slept, you diligently scoured the place for creepy crawlies, capturing them in the plastic box you'd brought before releasing them into the wilderness--spraying the borders of his door and windows with diluted peppermint oil to prevent their reappearance. Brushing your hands together with satisfaction, you curled up against your broad-shouldered boyfriend for a well earned mid-morning nap.

#frank castle #the punisher #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle imagine #frank castle x female reader #the punisher x reader #punisher #the punisher imagine #nmcu #my writing #fc #fall prompts 2023 #jon bernthal fanfiction #jon bernthal

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fandomnerd9602 · 1 year ago

Text

Wolf Spider pt. 4

Sam Carpenter x Spider-Man!Reader

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Ghostface wasn't supposed to know where you were. And now because of that, Anika's life was now on the precipice of life and death. You switched back into your civilian clothing and rushed back to the hospital.

You ran into the waiting room to find Sam, Tara, Ethan, Mindy, and Chad. Mindy was crying her eyes out as she rushed up and started wailing away at your chest, trying to somehow punch you. A fool's errand due to your enhanced spider strength. But your friend was in pain, as much as you, she needed this.

"You bastard!" Mindy practically screamed through her tears, "where were you?! Why didn't you come sooner?!?"

"I'm sorry" was all you could say as Chad gently pulled his sister away from you.

"Doctors said Anika was stable but she's in a coma" Tara explains as she tries to remain calm from the nearby waiting room couch.

"Can't you call any more of your spider friends?" Chad asks

"Spider Society. And no" you whisper, "they'll define anything as a canon event. they're of no use, we're on our own"

"I wouldn't say on your own" a familiar female voice answers back, you turn and come face to face with Gale Weathers or as you know her-

"Hey Aunt Gale" you smile

"D-Do they know about-?" She makes a webslinging movement with her hands.

"We know" Sam answers back. "Hey Gale. Thanks for not publishing that story by the way"

"Dewey would've killed me if I did" Gale chuckles, "and Sidney would've sucker punched me." Gale gives you, Sam, and Tara quick hugs.

"She always had a mean right hook" you smile back.

It's then that you saw the ambulance pull in, the EMTs emerge with a gurney. On the gurney was Quinn, in a comatose state. Detective Bailey and a young woman followed close behind.

"Quinn?!" you tried to approach the gurney but Bailey grabs you.

"It's a medically induced coma" he answers, "s-she's stable but-" the older man begins to cry. You give him a little side hug. No father should be put through this kind of pain. You turn to the young woman, blonde, average height but you could tell there was a fire in her eyes.

"I'm FBI Special Agent Kirby Reed" the young woman introduces herself. "I've been tracking Ghostface sightings for years now."

"Cool" you huff, "there's gonna be a bunch of them in like two days time. Bunch of masked freaks"

"You referring to the Wolf Spider as well?" Kirby smirks, "I'm just glad we got one masked good guy at least"

"Not to dash the moment" Ethan interjects, "but where are we gonna stay? It's not like we have any safe spaces right now"

You give it some thought, you had to keep them safe, "I-I think I might know a place" you say.

You guide your friends, family, and a detective and an FBI agent to your hidden little apartment located in a clock tower. The whole housing area was right above the gigantic gears that ran the tower, surprisingly its very quiet.

The space was fairly big. Two stories, well a living room on the first story and a master bedroom on the second. Two futon couches, a bed upstairs, a TV, a simple bathroom and kitchen set up. And of course your makeshift research lab by the window which overlooked all of New York.

"This is your lair?" Mindy asks, "Like the Web?"

"The Watch Tower" you answer, "but I'm not gonna lie, the Web sounds cooler"

"How did you afford this?" Bailey asks with a chuckle, "I can't even afford rent in New York as it is."

"Saved some rich dude," you shrug, "It's his old apartment and he had it gifted to me. It's more of a base of operations. You'll be safe here."

You pull out the futons' beds. "Chad, Mindy, the futons are yours. Tara, Sam, bed's all yours"

"And what about you?" Sam asks

"Now's not the time for you two to get all romantic," Chad tries to interject but you lightly sock him in the arm.

"I have my ways" you form a hammock with some webbing. Bailey chuckles.

"I got my apartment closeby" Gale answers as she walks to the door. She gives you a quick nod before heading out.

"What about me?" Ethan asks as you throw a sleeping bag at him. The young college student sighs, "Right. I'm still a suspect"

You make sure everyone gets settled in for the night. You notice Kirby inspecting your lab set up. She admires your web shooters in particular.

"Can't tell you how many suspects I could apprehend with these. Quite a set up you got here" she smirks, "we could use you on the force"

"Too many rules" you smirk back, "besides these powers are my responsibility. And don't go telling your friends at Langley, I don't need the FBI trying to experiment on me"

"My lips are sealed" she answers back. "Glad to be working with you, Wolf Spider"

You make your way back to the bedroom, Tara's already sleeping peacefully. Sam not so much. She rises from the bed and you pull her into a hug. She breathes in your scent, just being in your arms brings her some ounce of peace. Her hands rub gentle circles on your back, like a soothing balm on your very soul. How your being ached for her touch.

"Promise you won't leave me again" she whispers. You give her a peck on the lips.

"I promise." you answer back. "I love you Sam, I won't let anyone ever hurt you again"

"I love you, my Wolf Spider"

Sam drifts off to sleep as you sneak out of the room later that night. You needed to clear your head. What you failed to notice as you snuck past your sleeping friends and family was that one of the genetically engineered spiders you kept in your lab, had snuck out of it's containment unit. And it had set up a little web right above your pal, Chad. The iridescent arachnid slowly made its way down to the sleeping jock.

You made your way to rooftop overlooking all of New York. You could only breath in and out. Ghostface wouldn't rest until Sam and Tara were dead.

Your mind was racing with so many variables. Canon events. What if losing Sam and Tara was a part of your web? Was it really something that you couldn't stop? What if your aunt Gale was another person you couldn't save? Was your fate truly set in stone? Would Ghostface take everything away from you?

We'll go after Ghostface first, The symbiote hisses, Let me take control. I'll have his head by morning.

"No" you shake your head, "I won't let you. Not after last time...Venom."

"Talkin' to yourself ain't gonna help, mate" a familiar British voice chuckles from behind you. The only one standing behind you was dressed in a punk rock outfit, spike studded boots, his guitar on his back and his denim vest adorned with little anarchist pins. He offers you a mischievous smile.

"I thought you weren't supposed to interfere" you smile before turning to face your interdimensional best pal, Hobie 'Spider-Punk' Brown.

"You know I don't listen to authority, bruv" Hobie gives you a bro hug. "now let's work on catchin' your ghost"

To Be Continued...

Tags: @deafeningsharkslimeempath @ma1egamer @jacelion @jadenyukiyusakufujikiyutoduelist @jacksonandjacksonville @sonicqaulan

#scream #scream movies #scream franchise #scream 6 #scream movie #scream vi #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x reader #melissa barrera #spider man #spider man reader #marvel #marvel crossover #Spotify

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gin-blacklizard · 6 months ago

Note

Ooo I've seen a black widow before I would've captured it if I knew you'd like it

Hi.

@the-real-aya-koda

Hi Aya I haven't heard from you in a while, how have you been?

(shes smiling through her mask)

#i get alot of wolf spiders in my room #since my room is like the outside room #but there was a pretty big one i saw a couple days ago #i also find a bit of them dead on the floor #probably since i always keep my ac on OOPS #theres even one that chills above my bed #i am too scared to kill it but i have figued out that if i shine a light at it and crinkle a bottle it crawls away #LMFAO #sorry for the rant just wanted to share

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fatkish · 7 months ago

Note

May I ask for a Tokoyami x Reader? A rivals to lovers trope - UA holds a masquerade ball event, and they end up dancing together, and the rivals to lovers energy just skyrockets ‼️

Tokoyami x Reader: Masquerade

(This is your masquerade outfit and mask. You can change the color, also I tried to stay as gender neutral as possible)

(This is Tokoyami’s outfit. The mask is made to fit his beak and blend in with his face)

You and Tokoyami had always been rivals since the quirk assessment test on day one, or, at least, both of your guys’s quirks were rivals

Your quirk allows you to summon and control the animals and creatures that are tattooed on your skin. The tattoos you currently possess are: a black widow spider, a Luna moth, an eastern dragon, an owl, a king cobra, a koi fish, and a wolf.

For whatever reason, your owl seems to dislike dark shadow, thus, a fight often breaks out whenever they are in close quarters

The was a pro hero masquerade gala event that Miruko, the pro you were interning with, was going to which meant you were too

You didn’t know what pro Tokoyami was interning with so when you saw Hawks, you didn’t think anything of it

Unlike your quirks, you and Tokoyami were on relatively good terms with each other, some of your summon animals liked him, some didn’t, most notoriously, your owl seemed to pick a fight with Tokoyami and Dark shadow, every time it saw them

Not being one for slow dancing or events like this, you stuck to area near the food. Being a wallflower and trying not to do anything much to gain attention

Tokoyami had walked up and asked you to dance, a slow dark lullaby like ballad played as Tokoyami slow danced with you

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Unknown to you, Hawks was playing as Tokoyami’s wing man

As the song played, Tokoyami led you to the dance floor and slowly began to waltz

His slow dancing skills coupled with the eerie and strangely macabre yet pleasant music only added to the boy’s mysterious charm

“I must admit, you’re a wonderful dancer Tokoyami”

“Thank you, though you’re praise is much appreciated, it is hardly necessary”

“I beg to differ. Any who, what made you choose to ask me to dance, I’m hardly any good at this as I’ve already stepped on your toes a few times”

“I don’t believe you’re a bad dancer, only time and much practice will improve your skill”

“If you say so”

“I must confess that I have ulterior motives for asking you to dance”

“Here we go”

“I wanted to ask you if you would do me the honor of being my boyfriend/girlfriend/romantic partner?”

“Are you serious?”

“As serious as I will ever be”

“Well then, I accept”

“Well then, from this moment fourth, please call me Fumikage, my love”

“Well, only if you call me (y/n), my dark prince”

“Absolutely, shall we continue our dark ballad? My love”

“Yes, we shall”

After accepting, you both continued to dance, as you swayed around the room, hand in hand.

Twisting and twirling, looking like two swans in the night, you continued your dance, following Tokoyami’s steps until the music ended

Only for clapping to echo in the room afterwards and the flashes of cameras to surround you both

(Hope you enjoyed this, sorry if it’s short)

Bonus:

After the event, Hawks kept pestering Tokoyami

“Just be sure to use protection, Tsukuyomi”

“… what?…”

Realizing what Hawks was alluding to

“… That is not why I asked them, and that is years ahead”

“I’m just saying”

“Enough”

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #fumikage tokoyami #tokoyami x reader #tokoyami fukimage #mha tokoyami #bnha tokoyami

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iamnot-crazy · 9 months ago

Text

Slight of Hands

Summary: A woman snuck her way onto the polar tang by tricking Shachi and Penguin but Law is quick to realize her antics. She has now been taken captive by Law.

A/N: OK here is chapter 2. It's just as flirty and sly as the first and now I am invested in this character and will be adding another chapter soon but will probably end it after that.

Chapter 1

---

Red emergency lights cast a sickly glow on the metal walls and pipes of the cramped room. When the woman finally regained consciousness, she found herself stuck fast to the metal chair, a groan escaping her lips. The sound alerted the other occupant, a tall figure who rose from the shadows with arms crossed.

"You're awake," he stated, his voice a low rumble. She looked up, the red light obscuring his features. Recognition dawned on her as she saw the silhouette of the Captain she'd taunted earlier. Instead of fear, a playful glint sparked in her eyes, and she simply rolled her eyes and relaxed back in the chair.

Law's jaw clenched at her nonchalance. "You're going to tell me everything you know," he stated firmly, towering above her. "And who you plan on relaying that information to."

The woman threw back her head and laughed. "This is cute, really." When her laughter subsided, she smirked. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you. But only for a good price."

Law remained composed as he reached into his pocket and withdrew a glistening object, causing the woman to flinch – her own heart. He dangled it in front of her, a cruel amusement playing on his lips.

"I wonder how much value your heart holds," he taunted, tossing the heart in the air and catching it repeatedly. With each throw, the woman flinched, a flicker of fear betraying her earlier bravado.

"Fine," she snarled, the defiance cracking in her voice.

Law stopped his game of catch. "Let's start off with an easy one," he said, pulling a chair over and grabbing a notebook resting on it. "What is your name?"

"Raven," she answered curtly.

"Who do you work for?"

A sly smile played on her lips. "Depends on the price. I could be working for anyone or no one at all. Most of the time it's the Marines, but sometimes other pirates."

"So you're a consultant," Law hummed, pulling a pen from his pocket and opening the notebook. "Who were you planning on selling my information to?" he continued, scribbling notes.

The woman shrugged, feigning boredom. "No one in particular yet. But you've been making quite a lot of noise. I figured someone would come around sooner or later. Might as well get ahead of the game."

"And tell me everything you learned," Law pressed.

The woman burst out laughing before a serious glint replaced the amusement in her eyes. "Everything," she declared.

Law's gaze narrowed. "What is that supposed to mean?" he questioned, suspicion lacing his voice.

She smirked, a hint of a challenge radiating from her. "Let's just assume I know every single thing about you."

Law gripped the pen in his hand, knuckles turning white. "You can't know everything," he stated, disbelief evident in his tone.

"Try me," she countered, a playful glint back in her eyes.

"Where am I from?"

"Flevance," she replied without hesitation. "But if you want a deeper answer, you also lived at Spider Miles with the Donquixote Pirates for a while, and then Swallow Island." She cocked her head, waiting for his next question.

"Okay, smartass," he growled, his voice strained. "Who did I live with at Swa—"

The woman cut him off. "Some inventor named Wolf. That one was way too easy. Let's talk about something harder to find. Corazon." The name struck Law like a physical blow. His eyes darted to her, a look of terror contorting his features.

"He was a Marine spy, right?" she taunted, leaning forward in the chair. Law stood up abruptly, his hand twitching near the hilt of his sword. "Now we're getting somewhere," the woman laughed, reveling in his distress.

Law looked like he was about to explode, his hands clenching and unclenching. With a frustrated sigh, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, the metal door slamming shut behind him with a resounding bang.

Alone in the darkness, the woman let out a triumphant smirk. She scanned the room, taking in the pipes and the stifling heat. It wasn't hard to deduce she was trapped in the sub's boiler room. Hours ticked by, and the only sound was the low hum of the machinery.

The door creaked open again, and a bright Light flooded the room, momentarily blinding Raven. Squinting, she couldn't make out the figure who entered, but they carried a delicious aroma. As the door closed, she focused on the approaching silhouette.

"I brought some food," the figure spoke kindly, revealing itself to be a large, lumbering polar bear. He held a steaming bowl of soup, the smell further amplifying Raven's grumbling stomach.

She offered a grateful smile as her stomach rumbled in protest. "Thank you," she said, attempting to reach for the bowl. Unfortunately, her arms remained tethered to the chair. With pleading eyes, she looked up at the bear. "Do you think you could take these ropes off? I promise I won't do anything."

The bear approached hesitantly. "I don't know, Captain just gave me permission to bring you the soup."

"Just one arm then, please," she whined, pouting her lips adorably. "So I can use it to eat. I'm so hungry."

The bear, easily swayed by her act, nodded and untied her right hand. She wasted no time in grabbing the bowl and slurping down the soup. "Thank you," she sighed in relief, finally feeling full. The bear watched in amusement as she devoured the entire serving in seconds.

The bear nodded and reached out to retie her arm back down but she pulled it back, "Wait please let me stretch it a bit." she begged with her puppy dog eyes.

"Uh, I don't know. Captain told me not to trust you." He stuttered unsure of what to do.

"But I didn't do anything." her lip trembles, "I promise."

Sweat started pouring from the polar bear. "I guess you have been down here for a bit. And the captain is acting a little unreasonable."

The woman smiles triumphantly, "You are so kind. What's your name?"

"Bepo."

"Bepo." she smiles having her in, "You're a mink right? What is Zou like?" she places her chin in her palm and looks at him with genuine interest.

Bepo's eyes lit up. "I left Zou when I was young," he admitted. "But it's a very peaceful town with the nicest people ever. I miss them."

"Why did you leave then?"

Bepo's smile faded as he looked down. "I'm looking for my brother," he confessed.

"Do you have any leads?"

He shook his head sadly.

Raven frowned in sympathy. "I'm sorry, Bepo. I hope you find him." She paused, a calculating glint in her eyes. "You might not find the answer you want, but I may have some intel on Big Mom and her involvement with the Nox Pirates."

Bepo perked up, his ears twitching with interest. "The Nox pirates…?"

Before Raven could elaborate, a coughing fit seized her. She doubled over, clutching her chest in pain.

"What's wrong? What's happening?" Bepo exclaimed, panic lacing his voice.

Gasping for breath, she wheezed, "I… I can't… breathe."

Concerned, Bepo quickly untied her other arm and helped her to her feet. "What do you need?"

"Air… I need air," she coughed, desperation creeping into her voice.

Without hesitation, Bepo scooped her up and raced out of the boiler room. A faint smirk played on her lips before returning to her convincing coughs. The worried bear sprinted across the sub's deck, the sea breeze finally reaching them.

Raven took a deep, lung-filling breath of the salty air, her coughing subsiding. Bepo gently lowered her to the deck, leaning against the railing.

"Thank you, Bepo," she panted, a hint of gratitude in her voice. "I guess I've been down there for too long and needed fresh air."

Bepo, relieved, nodded in understanding. "I know what that's like. The air in the sub can be so thick and hot." He rubbed her back comfortingly. "You were saying something about the Nox pirates. That was the crew my brother was a part of."

Raven's eyes widened. "He was part of that crew…" she hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. "Oh no, Bepo, I don't know if I should be the one telling you."

Bepo's eyes pleaded with her. "Please, you're the only person who has any idea what happened to my brother."

Raven frowned, wrestling with her conscience. "From what I read," she began cautiously, "the Nox Pirates were after her Poneglyphs, and Big Mom caught them. Only one of the pirates left the island. That's all I know."

Tears welled up in Bepo's eyes. "That doesn't mean he's dead! He could have gotten away. I'm sorry, if I knew your brother was a part of that crew, I wouldn't have brought it up. I was just hoping it would be a start to finding leads." She pulled Bepo into a hug, surprising the giant bear.

"Yo Bepo, what are you… Is that the prisoner!" A booming voice echoed from around the corner. Shachi, the man with the killer whale hat stormed over, shoving himself between the two defensively holding his arm in front of the Bear. "You're not supposed to be out here!" he barked, pointing a threatening finger at Raven.

"Sorry, Shachi," Bepo stammered, "I brought her out here, she needed fresh air."

Penguin waddled up, puffing out his chest. "Well, she needs to go back before the Captain sees her. We can't have her causing any more trouble."

Raven held up her hands defensively. "Don't blame him. I couldn't breathe down there, and Bepo was just trying to help. If you want me to go back down I will I'm helpless against the three of you. But out here I'm not alone and you can keep a better eye on me." She spoke in a higher, sweeter voice than she used previously.

A thought flashed in the eyes of both Shachi and Penguin, "I got a new idea!" Shachi spoke up, "We keep her on the deck where there are fewer things for her to steal and we keep an eye on her."

Penguin smiled, "Exactly! She won't be able to trick us again, and we're too strong for her anyway."

As the three pirates bickered amongst themselves, Raven couldn't help but smirk.

---

When Law comes back into the boiler room he is shocked to find an empty chair and the ropes on the floor. Realization dawned on his face, and his jaw clenched in anger.

He stormed across the deck, the crew scattering across the deck. His gaze fell upon Raven, who stood confidently in the center of the crew, captivating their attention with a story.

"And that's not even his full name!" she declared, her voice ringing out with excitement. "The government was too scared to let anyone know his real name… Gold D. Roger!"

A collective gasp rippled through the crew.

"The World Government is scared of this tribe, and for good reason," Raven continued, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "The Will of D…"

"What is going on here?!" Law roared, silencing the chatter. The crew scrambled to their feet, mumbling excuses before scurrying back inside the sub.

The only ones remaining were Shachi, Penguin, Bepo, and a smug Raven. Law ran a hand through his hair, frustration etched on his face. "I thought you two would have learned your lesson by now," he grumbled, glaring at Shachi and Penguin. "And Bepo…" He paused, taking a deep breath. "Actually, you're fine."

Bepo offered a sheepish smile as the two swordsmen shrunk back under their Captain's scrutiny.

"We're keeping watch over her," Penguin mumbled defensively.

Law's gaze flickered back to Raven, his anger simmering beneath the surface. Something in the distance caught Raven's eye before she sauntered towards the Captain. "It's fine, Law," she purred, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "I didn't tell them anything you wouldn't want them to know."

She turned to the remaining crew, flashing a dazzling smile. "Thank you for your hospitality, gentlemen." She bowed slightly, her voice taking on a theatrical tone. "This was a fascinating experience. I promise this won't be the last."

With a playful wink, she darted across the deck, leaving a trail of bewildered pirates in her wake. Just as they were about to give chase, Raven reached the edge of the ship and leaped over the railing.

The three pirates rushed to the edge, peering over in time to see a small rowboat, carrying Raven and another woman. The boat quickly steered towards a larger ship in the distance, which began firing cannons at the submarine.

"Shit!" Law cursed, ducking as a cannonball whizzed overhead. He reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against a familiar, pulsing object. He pulled out Raven's heart, a cruel smile twisting his lips. He dug through his pocket pulling out the woman's heart, "Raven! I still have your heart! You're still my prisoner!" he shouted at the woman who was quickly disappearing.

"Keep it!" She shouted, "As a promise that we will meet again!"

Law squeezed the heart threatened and watched her fall to her knees confirming it was her heart. He let go freeing her, "I can kill you any time any anywhere!" he shouted.

The woman coughed up some blood but smiled, "But you won't"

---

A/N: Wanna read more of my work check out my MasterList

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #writing #fem!reader #one piece oc #one piece original character #straw hat pirates #law one piece #one piece trafalgar law #one peice #one piece penguin #one piece shachi

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