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n0thingbutlov3 · 7 months ago

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need you now | 2 |

in which readers true feelings are revealed.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings/tags: angst again (whoops) miscommunication (it’s short dw) fluff, reader is hungover lol, spencer is handsomely disheveled (moans) mentions of blueberry muffins being readers favourite type of muffin (sorry for not being vague but also if you don’t like blueberry muffins??? why) some tears, some swearing, some kissing, suggestiveness at the end of you squint (WHOOPS *evil smirk*) no use of y/n!! wc: 2.1k a/n: call me slim shady because i am back!!! i procrastinated writing this because i was scared everyone was secretly judging my writing and actually hated it and a second part would be a stupid idea but THEN i realised that was a little bit silly so im here B) part one got over 1000 notes (INSANE) all the support has been so so lovely—every note, reblog, and comment means the world to me, thank you!! i hope this part is okayy, feedback is always appreciated :) i hope you enjoy it you choose to read!!! <3 p.s kissing scenes are so difficult to write, i think i done absolutely awful!!!so let’s ignore that…. if you haven’t already and you’d like to, you can read part one here!

Your eyelids twitched as the early morning sun filtered through your bedroom. What was usually a calming wake-up call now felt like being blinded.

You burrowed your face into your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to dull the throbbing in your head. This is why you didn’t drink often.

Asides from the obvious headache and nausea, you always seemed to wake up with a sense of dread; ‘hangxiety’—a friend had called it once. It was creeping up on you now, and even though you weren’t sure exactly what you had done, you knew it was bad. You flipped onto your back, fixing your gaze to the ceiling as if it could tell you what irreparable mistakes you had made last night.

It couldn’t, of course. The only thing you had realised is that you should probably coat it in a new layer of paint soon.

“How’re you feeling?”

You shot up, eyes widening at the sight of a man in your doorway. A man whose sleepy voice and disheveled hair threatened to make you melt, but a man who should not be in your doorway, nonetheless; Spencer.

Your brain was quick to supply you with information then, your memory coming back in hazy remnants. You were upset so you…called Spencer for the first time in months. Yikes. He didn’t answer so you turned to a bottle of high end whiskey instead—yikes, again—and passed out on your couch, only to wake up to your ex-boyfriend in your apartment. Cue more sobbing, a pathetic attempt at asking—no, more like begging—him to get back together with you, and that was it. Well, mostly. There was also the promise of discussing your breakdown in the morning. The morning, which was now.

What the fuck.

“Like I’ve been napalmed.” You weren’t sure you were just referring to your raging hangover.

That prompted a raspy kind of chuckle from him and Jesus Christ—you really shouldn’t have called, because it was going to be infinitely harder to watch him leave when he inevitably told you you were sad loser who needed to get a grip and move on—except, he’d be a lot nicer than that, wouldn’t he? Because even if things were over between you, he was still the sweetest person you had ever met and he’d never say anything to intentionally hurt you. Maybe things would be easier if he did. If he wasn’t so sickeningly perfect—if he just insulted you in the way you were certain you deserved, then maybe you’d get over him quicker.

“So, I-ah-uber’d breakfast—“

Your inner turmoil came to a screeching halt at those words.

“You uber’d? You?”

He scoffed, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

“The team’s been very into it lately and I always finish my paperwork first so it only makes sense that I—stop laughing! I can uber!”

“Sorry! I just can’t imagine the great Doctor Reid stooping to the levels of a fast food delivery app. Do you ever order to the wrong place?”

“No.” he said, unconvincingly. “Well, only once—“

You were laughing again.

He whined, turning on his heel.

“Just take your aspirin and hurry up!” He grumbled petulantly as he left the room, but you could hear the smile in his voice.

After a quick freshen up and taking the pills placed on your bedside table—as per his request—you padded through to the living room, joining Spencer on the couch.

You gasped delightedly as he pulled out muffins from a brown paper bag. To be more specific, blueberry muffins; your favourite.

“Did you know that blueberries are good for fighting hangovers? They’re rich in vitamin C, which helps break down and metabolise blood alcohol. Muffins too, they—what? Do I have something on my face—“

“No! No, sorry,” You had been caught staring—ogling, more like. “I just missed…that.”

“What? My incessant rambling?” He was joking, but you could hear the insecure twinge in his voice—the one that told him he was too much. Over the course of your relationship, you had showed him that he didn’t have to think like that around you—that he was never too much; he was perfect in your eyes. You hated that he doubted that now.

“Yes, actually.” You tried to keep your tone light, unserious. But there was nothing unserious about just how badly you had missed the man sitting beside you. How you could hear his voice in your mind when you drove late at night, giving you statistics on accidents. Or how on other late nights, you swore you could feel his hands ghosting over your skin—only to find out it was your imagination.

If he could see how truthful you were being, he didn’t acknowledge it, turning his attention back to the coffee table.

“I’ll, um, save you the facts on how beneficial coffee is for hangovers, anyway.” He smiled awkwardly, shuffling a paper coffee cup to where your muffin sat.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, “for the coffee, not the withholding of information—i’m a real fiend for coffee facts…especially when they’re related to curing hangovers!” You said a little too cheerily, trying to alleviate the awkward tension. Although, that only seemed to make it worse.

Spencer just huffed out a little laugh in response, taking the wrapper off of his muffin.

The rest of breakfast went by in silence. Not the comfortable silence you always seemed to have with Spencer—when you were together, you reminded yourself—but a strained one. The kind of silence that occurs when there’s something left unsaid, and you’re just waiting for someone to spit it out.

Spencer broke first.

“So we should probably talk…about last night.”

You finished the remainder of your coffee, setting the empty cup down before turning your whole body to Spencer, tucking your legs up underneath you.

“Right, yeah…”

A beat passed, Spencer’s eyes darting around your face—assessing you.

For someone who had imagined this conversation in your mind countless times, you certainly weren’t saying much.

“I—uh…was very drunk.”

Something in him shifted, like he was putting up imaginary walls.

“So you didn’t mean…any of it?” His brow furrowed, his nose twitching slightly.

“Well no, but I—“ You what? Meant every word you said and more? You couldn’t just say that. You had just got a small part of Spencer back and you didn’t want to ruin it by coming on too strong.

He waited for you to add something, anything, to show him that maybe, maybe there was a tiny part of you that still wanted him as badly as he wanted you. But you didn’t. You just sat there, playing with the fabric of your—his—t-shirt.

He couldn’t do it.

He was so tired of loving people only for them to leave like he had meant nothing to them. Was that all he was to you? Someone you could call when your inhibitions were lowered, looking for comfort? He would do anything to be back in your life again, but he couldn’t be a person of convenience; someone you only wanted when you were lonely.

He ran a hand through his hair, swallowing down the tightness in his throat.

“You were drunk and you got carried away, I get it. I think I better go though—“

“What? No, I—“ You bobbed your mouth like a fish, trying to find the words necessary to keep him here. There were too many of them and yet none at all. None except for three. Three words that you wished you had the courage to say months ago, or weeks ago, or last night. But you never claimed to be a courageous person, and you weren’t about to spill your heart out again only for it to end up in rejection.

Spencer stood, making his way to your bedroom to grab his shoes and coat. He didn’t care about his other clothes, he could buy more—he just needed out before he broke.

You sat dumbfounded on the couch, willing yourself to do something, say something. It was like you were frozen. And you stayed frozen. As Spencer shuffled around your bedroom, as he returned to the living room—completely avoiding your gaze—even as he searched for his keys. You hadn’t realised he had driven over here. He didn’t usually drive unless he had to get somewhere urgently. Were you someone worth seeing urgently to him?

He picked up his keys, heading for your door and only then did you realise how dire the situation was. If he left now you weren’t sure he would ever come back.

“No—wait, Spencer!” You stammered, lunging off the couch to try and stop him. He unlocked the door, moving to leave when you grabbed onto his jacket sleeve.

“Please don’t—I love you!”

“What?”

He turned to face you and you noticed just how wrecked he looked—not at all dissimilar from how you had for the last few months. Had he looked like that the whole time?

You must’ve been staring because when you came back to your senses he was calling your name exasperatedly.

“Do you mean it?”

You were fed up living like this; harbouring so much love for someone and not being able to express it. Even if he didn’t love you back, even if he was over you, you couldn’t go another moment without at least telling him how you felt.

“Yes,” you heaved, “I love you—I never stopped loving you, I was just…” You knitted your brows together, unsure how to phrase what you were feeling.

“I’ve never loved someone the way I love you and that’s…terrifying. I thought the way I felt was wrong, like—when you were on cases, I missed you so much, more than I thought humanely possible and—well, I never wanted to be the kind of girl to base her happiness on another person because that’s how you get hurt. So, I thought the only way to combat that was by…distancing myself. I thought if you weren’t in my life anymore then I’d be able to get a grip and become more independent—“ you huffed, trying to stop the wobble of your voice. “but it didn’t work, because then I was just missing you twice as much, except I couldn’t see you at all—“

“You could’ve answered my messages, we could’ve—“

“So you could return your key? Then things would actually be over. Why do you think I ignored your messages?”

“Why do you think I kept messaging? Angel, I was never going to return that key—at least not willingly—I just wanted to see you, to see if you were doing just as horribly without me as I was without you. You know, I couldn’t even focus on cases—Hotch even suggested I take some time off.”

You frowned, your voice impossibly small. “I’m sorry.”

He took a step toward you, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Don’t apologise, you were dealing with your emotions in the best way you knew how. I just wish…” he swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I wish I hadn’t let you go so easily.”

His eyes were shining and—God, you wished you could take it all back. All the pain you had caused him, caused yourself, just because you were too scared to talk about your feelings.

“I wish I hadn’t left.” You blinked away the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes. “Y’know, I read a book on astrophysics because it reminded me of you. I didn’t understand any of it but I couldn’t put it down. I still—“ you let out a watery chuckle. “still have it in my bedroom somewhere.”

Spencer smiled, swiping under your eye at a tear that must’ve escaped.

“Yeah? Maybe I can read it to you—help you understand it.”

“I’d like that.”

You didn't know much about celestial bodies or the ultimate fate of the universe, but you could've sworn you'd seen the stars pictured in that book in Spencer’s eyes when he looked at you.

“Say it again.” He mumbled, tilting his head down so that your faces were just inches apart.

“I love you.”

And then his lips were on yours, impossibly soft and everything you had been missing since you had broken up. He kissed you like you were the oxygen he needed and all you could do was sigh into him because you knew the feeling.

He leaned back all too soon, resting his forehead against yours.

“Well, I should probably go—“ He smirked, but you cut him off before he could continue his teasing.

“You’re not funny.”

He narrowed his eyes, sucking his teeth.

“I don’t know, I—“

You pressed a firm hand on his chest, bunching the cotton of his t-shirt into a fist.

“Stop. Stay—we can have a pyjama day and maybe for dinner, you can show me just how tech savvy you’ve become and uber us some food—“

He rolled his eyes, kicking the door shut before pressing his lips to yours with more force this time.

“Stop talking.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds

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michaela-o · 30 days ago

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please please PLEASE can we have an Autobot version of the how to catch a human post?! Begging on my knees here lol

Im sorry this took a bit longer i had so much fun writing this ! And besides that i got distracted by some of the TF comics that can be found online ! I just read the two whole comics about Drift becoming an autobot and man alive was that cool :3🧡

I'm also currently job-hunting and studying so there was not as much time to be online or make art as much as i'd like :'(🧡

But i hope you'll enjoy this one !! ( ｡ớ ᴗờ)🧡

P.s. - I know this is a bit different from the decepticon one bc i made this one in the more First Contact universe♡

Autobot recommendation for handling/capturing fragile organics: Humans

Foreword on behalf of Autobots

Humans are delicate, skittish creatures who rely on their instincts, emotions, and have a surprising amount of unpredictability. They are small, fragile, and prone to bouts of irrational behavior when startled or cornered. Despite their size and vulnerability, they possess an extraordinary will to survive, making them both a challenge and a responsibility to handle correctly.

This guide was written for Autobots tasked with capturing, securing, or calming a human in scenarios where their cooperation is necessary but unlikely. Treat them as you would a frightened turbomouse: with patience and care.

1: Recognizing the human creature

1.1 PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

Humans are organics with relatively uniform structure but remarkable fragility. Standing approximately not even quarter of the height of a minicon, they lack protective exoskeletons or natural armor. Their bodies are composed of soft tissues supported by brittle bones, making them particularly susceptible to external forces.

Their skin is their first line of defense, but it is thin and prone to tearing. Cybertronian scanners often mistake minor abrasions as critical damage—while rarely life-threatening, these injuries cause them significant distress. Be mindful of their soft exteriors.

Humans rely heavily on their sensory organs to navigate their environment. Their eyes are sensitive to bright light, and their ears to loud or unexpected noises. Both can cause disorientation, so avoid shining headlights directly at them or using amplified vocalizers during interactions.

1.2 BEHAVIORAL TRAITS

Humans exhibit a wide range of behaviors, often dictated by their emotional state. Unlike Cybertronians, who generally act with calculated logic, humans are impulsive. When frightened, their actions often defy rationality.

• Flight Response: A common reaction to danger, humans may attempt to flee without assessing their surroundings. This can lead them into greater peril, such as running toward an active battlefield or hazardous terrain. They are pretty fast for their size, but their stamina is limited. A frightened human will often collapse after prolonged exertion.

• Fight Response: Though rare, humans under stress may lash out. Their attacks, though feeble, can include throwing objects, kicking, or attempting to strike a Cybertronians. While their strength is negligible, their determination should not be underestimated.

• Freeze Response: Some humans become motionless when overwhelmed, effectively shutting down all voluntary movement. This reaction can make them difficult to rescue, as they may refuse to cooperate or acknowledge external stimuli.

2: Identifying stress signals

2.1 VOCAL CUES

Humans communicate distress through an array of strange vocalizations, often at high volume. Screaming is the most obvious indicator of fear, but rapid speech, muttering, or even complete silence can also signal distress. Listen carefully to their tone—shaky or uneven sounds often betray underlying anxiety.

2.2 PHYSICAL REACTIONS

Their bodies exhibit telltale signs of stress: trembling limbs, widened organic optics, or clenched fists. Sweating, though imperceptible to Cybertronian optics, is another key indicator. Advanced scanners can detect elevated heart rates and shallow breathing, both of which correlate with heightened fear.

2.3 ERRATIC MOVEMENTS

Humans under duress often behave unpredictably, darting in random directions or making illogical choices. For example, a human might attempt to climb unstable structures or hide in areas that provide no real protection. These behaviors stem from primal survival instincts and should not be interpreted as strategic actions.

3: Non-threatening approaches

3.1 MINIMIZING YOUR PRESENCE

Humans perceive large objects, especially moving ones, as threats. To avoid provoking unnecessary fear, always begin your approach in a non-intimidating manner. Transforming into vehicle mode is highly effective; many humans associate vehicles with utility and safety, not danger.

When in robot mode, avoid towering over them. Lowering yourself to their eye level by kneeling or sitting creates a sense of equality and reduces the perception of dominance.

3.2 VOCAL REASURRANCE

Humans respond well to calm, steady voices. Speak slowly, using simple phrases even though they will not understand Cybertronian language. Avoid Cybertronian technical jargon or complicated explanations, as humand won't even understand and will confuse or frighten them further.

If the human continues to panic, repeat your reassurances while maintaining a soft tone. Over time, they will begin to associate your voice tone with safety.

3.3 BODY LANGUAGE

Body language is as important as spoken words. Humans are highly visual creatures and will interpret your movements as cues for intent. Keep your gestures slow and deliberate. Avoid sudden movements, as these can be perceived as aggression.

Extend a hand palm-up when offering assistance, a universal gesture of peace. Keep your frame neutral—crossed arms, clenched fists, or rigid postures might be misinterpreted as hostility.

4: Techniques for securing a human

4.1 NON-CONTACT METHODS

Whenever possible, prioritize techniques that do not involve physical interaction.

• Guided Pathways: Create barriers using objects or your own body to funnel the human toward safety. This method is particularly effective in open environments where direct contact might cause them to flee in the wrong direction.

• Stasis Bubbles: Deploy low-energy containment fields to immobilize the human. These fields should be calibrated to avoid discomfort and allow full mobility once the immediate danger has passed.

4.2 DIRECT CONTACT METHODS

Important note: When physical interaction is unavoidable, use the utmost care.

• Lifting and Restraint: Cradle the human gently in both hands, supporting their head and limbs. Apply no more force than necessary to prevent them from struggling or falling.

• Transport Compartments: Many Autobots have interior compartments designed for transporting fragile cargo. Ensure these are padded, ventilated, and free of sharp edges before placing a human inside.

4.3 ENVIROMEMTAL ADJUSTMENTS

Humans are profoundly influenced by their surroundings. Dim lighting, soft sounds, and warm temperatures can help calm them during capture. Conversely, loud noises, flashing lights, or sudden temperature changes will heighten their distress.

5: Transporting the human

5.1 SAFE COMPARTMENTS

Select a secure compartment that protects the human from external hazards while allowing them to move comfortably. The space should include basic life-support features such as climate control and breathable air.

5.2 CONTINUOUS MONITORING

Scan the human regularly for signs of injury or stress. If their condition deteriorates, stop immediately and address their needs. Humans are highly vulnerable to dehydration, exhaustion, and emotional fatigue.

6: Release and recovery

6.1 GRADUAL DISENGAGMENT

When the mission is complete, release the human in a controlled manner. Begin by reducing your proximity, allowing them to acclimate to their surroundings. Avoid abrupt departures, which may leave them feeling abandoned or confused.

6.2 PROVIDING REASSURANCE

Humans value closure. Rather than explain, show your actions and reassure them of their safety. If possible, provide additional assistance, such as guiding them back to their community or offering resources for recovery.

Closing thoughts

Humans may be small and fragile, but they are resilient in their own way. By treating them with care and understanding, they will give you theirs in return.

"We honor the principles that make us Autobots." - Autobots

#transformers #transformers headcanons #transformers x reader #yandere transformers #transformers mtmte #transformers x human reader #transformers first contact #transformers first contact au #first contact au #idw mtmte #maccadams #mtmte drift #mtmte rodimus #mtmte ultra magnus #michaela o ramblings #michaela o writings

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misc-obeyme · 8 months ago

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Sigh. Okay. Here's the Levi demon form smut. I don't think it turned out very good, but I'm tired of messing with it. And I spent time writing it, so I figure I might as well post it. I'm sorry, Levi, I swear I'll do you justice one day~

GN!MC x Leviathan

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: penetration (reader receiving), Levi being silly and blushy and anxious, demon form, tail stuff (I'm struggling with how to label this - the tail wraps around MC, MC sucks on the end of it, and it also stimulates MC but doesn't penetrate... okay that'll have to do I guess), sexy potion (briefly mentioned and Levi drank it lol), cockwarming, biting, man I hope that's it

Leviathan was already bright red. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, but the blush covering his face was so sweet. He was in his bathtub, back against several pillows and you in his lap. Two piles of clothes were on the floor nearby. He'd been nervous from the start, even though you had done this before. You tried to get him to relax, but it was clear that most of the things you did only made it worse.

You ran your hands over his chest as you pushed back against his erection.

You put your hand on his cheek. “Please, Levi?”

“M-MC!” he protested.

You had asked him if he would shift into demon form and the idea of it flustered him so bad he couldn’t look at you.

You kissed his warm cheeks. “I just wanna see you,” you said as you trailed your lips down his neck.

Levi shivered at the light touch, but he still couldn’t open his eyes.

You sighed and sat up a bit, so you could cup his face with both hands. You rubbed your thumbs across his skin. “Look at me, Levi.”

Obediently, Levi opened his eyes, but it was still difficult for him. He turned his face away, like he was trying to only see you in his periphery. You turned him back to face you.

"Whatever you think about yourself doesn't matter," you said. "I want to see all of you. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something seemed to shine in Levi’s eyes. Not tears, but a confidence you knew he often didn't feel. And then he was in demon form, confirming that your words had boosted him enough to feel comfortable granting your request.

You watched as the complex horns emerged and the black and indigo coloring splayed across his neck and shoulder. You could feel the tail wrap around your waist. You shifted slightly so the scales rubbed gently across your skin.

You traced your fingertips across the pattern on his neck and the way he whined in response filled you with satisfaction. You leaned back down to press kisses along where your fingers had touched, enjoying the way he began to squirm beneath you.

You rolled your hips, grinding yourself down on his erection, making him cry out.

“A-ah!” Levi’s fingers were suddenly digging into your arms, a sensation you found you liked. His tail tightened around your waist. “MC! Please!”

You smirked and looked down at him. “Please what?”

But Levi couldn’t say it. You knew he would be too embarrassed to. He squeezed his eyes shut again, pressing his lips together and shaking his head.

You laughed a little because his reaction was so cute. You ran your hands through his hair, letting them slide gently up his horns, enjoying the way he shuddered in response. Then you kissed him, running your tongue along those tightly clamped lips in an attempt to get him to relax. It worked. He opened his mouth for you, letting out a little gasp as your tongue slipped inside.

Your kiss became sloppy fast, your hips occasionally rolling languidly downward. Every time you did this, the tail around your waist twitched and tightened just a little.

You pulled away to look down at him again and while his expression was a little more open, the anxiety was still clearly written there.

You pressed kisses across his face, pausing by his ear to whisper, “You’re safe with me. It’s okay to let go a little.”

It was like you had unlocked a secret level. Levi’s hands moved from your arms to your hips and he bucked up into you, letting out a whine that was so needy you couldn’t help but smile.

You rearranged yourself a bit, then sat snugly on his cock. You went slowly, inching down bit by bit so you could hear his noises.

As you went, Levi’s tail wrapped even more circles around you until the tip was brushing against your cheek. You smiled as it edged along your lips then opened your mouth to let it inside.

As soon as the tip of Levi’s tail was inside your mouth, you clamped your lips closed and sucked. You were rewarded by the sight of Levi’s eyes rolling back into his head as he moaned and bucked beneath you.

You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest as you moved your hips, setting a decent pace. Every time his cock was fully inside you, it sent spikes of pleasure through your gut. You moaned around his tail, but didn’t let it out of your mouth. Your tongue was too busy exploring the unusual feeling of his scales.

Levi was a mess beneath you, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you knew there’d be marks later. He couldn’t stop himself from meeting your movements and the lower part of his tail that was wrapped around you seemed to be moving you, too. You found you barely had to do any of the work yourself. You still maintained the pace and position, though, and Levi seemed to be content to let you.

Your heavy breathing filled the room along with the sound of skin smacking against skin and Levi’s soft whines. You decided you wanted to hear a little more, reaching out to pinch one of his nipples.

Levi cried out and you laughed softly around the tail in your mouth. Levi pulled his tail out as it squeezed around you even more. It was almost painful but not quite. You knew he didn’t even realize what he was doing and that made it all the more enjoyable.

“Sorry,” you said between heaving panting now that your mouth was free. “Did that hurt?”

Levi whined. “D-do it again-“

He didn’t have to ask twice. But you decided this time it would be more satisfactory to use your teeth. The tail around you slackened just a bit as you moved your body forward and bit down on the sensitive skin.

Levi was squirming hard beneath you now and you knew it was only a matter of time before he came. You increased your pace, letting your arms rest on his shoulders, pulling him into your body as you focused on your movement.

Everything around you tightened - Levi’s tail, his hands, even his eyes squeezing shut - as he came inside of you.

Levi cried out your name so beautifully as his tail went limp, falling into a heap around you.

Levi kept his eyes closed tight as your pace slackened. You were about to stop when you felt the tip of his tail, still wet from your mouth, finding its way between your legs, just barely touching your most sensitive spot.

It was so unexpected, you gasped.

Levi peeked at you, opening one eye just enough to register the look of surprise on your face. “D-don’t stop,” he said. And his hands gripped your hips hard again, keeping you moving.

“But-!” you protested. “How are you still-?”

The blush that alighted on Levi’s face made you smile. You were about to ask him how he was still hard after he came only seconds ago. There was something going on there, but you felt too good in that moment to pursue it further.

The tail between your legs seemed to have a mind of its own. It was only moments before you weren’t able to form full sentences anyway. You barely registered the look of adorable determination on Levi’s face before you felt that tightening in your gut.

You ended up leaving light scratch marks across his chest as you came, his tail continuing its ministrations as you rode out your orgasm.

You drew in some heavy breaths as you collapsed against Levi, letting your head settle in the crook of his neck. His arms moved to wrap around you, hugging you close to him, and his tail did the same, but not too tightly.

“You’re still hard,” you said, pressing light kisses to his neck.

Levi groaned. “Asmo gave me this potion…”

You laughed softly against his skin. “Oh, was it more potent than you thought it’d be?”

“D-don’t laugh, MC!” he said even as his grip on you tightened.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Do you want me to help you out?”

Levi was quiet for a long time before he finally said. “A-actually, if you could just… stay like this…”

You were more than content to stay in Levi’s arms and cockwarm him all night if that’s what he wanted. You both fell asleep soon enough, though it would take some time for the potion to fade.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#I should write some pegging Levi smut one of these days #maybe it'd turn out better #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me leviathan #obey me smut #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me x reader #x reader #om leviathan #om leviathan x reader #om leviathan x mc #misc naughty times #misc writes

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sugurugetoshairbrush · 2 months ago

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thinking about playing with geto’s hair to help him unwind after a stressful week

the air hangs heavy, oppressive with summer's clinging humidity—a fitting backdrop to the surge in curses running rampant through japan. your days blur into an unrelenting cycle: exorcise, write reports, collapse in your dorm. you call it a blessing, a chance to strengthen your technique—but deep down you know that each mission brings you closer to the brink.

the fatigue is nothing short of infectious, spreading through jujutsu high like a virus. but this week, geto's weariness went beyond mere exhaustion—it teetered on the edge of total defeat. you and gojo had noticed it immediately, an unspoken observation of his too-polite words, dull eyes, and the barely-there smile he wore like armor.

although gojo is usually aloof when it comes to these types of social cues, his six eyes truly lives up to its name when it comes to geto. gojo notices his unfinished meals and lack of appetite, resorting to (in very gojo-esque manner) attempt to hand-feed him and offer up his most sacred sweets.

you'd teased gojo for his attentiveness, but he'd fire back that you were no better, always rushing to geto's side the moment he'd returned from a mission, dragging him along to a number of alleviating activities. you'd even made the mistake of inviting him to a smoke sesh with shoko, a decision you were still getting shit for since any invite to geto automatically extends to gojo—the embodiment of shoko's nightmare blunt rotation.

but today geto had been particularly elusive, so you find yourself messaging gojo privately to discuss your concern. unsurprisingly, gojo is a little too eager to engage...

S. Gojo | Today at 9:37 PM nd u saw how quickly he excused himself after giving his report ?? he didn't even scold me after yaga pointed out that my handwriting was completely illegible :0

You | Today at 9:39 PM sooo you knew that it was illegible? mbn to never worry about the consequences of your actions & ofc i noticed!! he seemed restless during that whole meeting

S. Gojo | Today at 9:40 PM just say ur jealous lol nd I noticed that too it was pretty distracting u think hes still on edge from the mission?

You | Today at 9:43 PM in his defense it doesnt take much to distract you i dont even think his mission was particularly difficult though didn’t he exorcise a bunch of grade 3 curses

S. Gojo | Today at 9:43 PM yeeah but remember he still has to absorb them hes trying to increase his collection i could yak rn just thinking ab it

You | Today at 9:45 PM truee idk how he does it honestly it must be rlly wearing him down tho i rarely see him now :(

S. Gojo | Today at 9:46 PM yeahhh he keeps hiding out in his room classic avoidant tendencies

You | Today at 9:48 PM astute observation dr. gojo that would imply he needs some space huh

S. Gojo | Today at 9:48 PM rightttt but

You | Today at 9:50 PM but? (i like where this is going)

S. Gojo | Today at 9:50 PM luckily space isn't in our vocabulary (i knew u would) lets go bother him :3

You | Today at 9:51 PM im alr omw to u :3

stuffing your phone back into your sweats, you begin making your way to your co-conspirator. it's pitch black outside save for the dim light of the flickering lantern hung at the dorm’s main post, but gojo’s room is only a couple doors down. you push open the slightly ajar door and are met with a tart, saccharine scent wafting from gojo’s not-so-secret stash of hard candy.

squinting forward you spot the culprit red-handed, splayed out across his bed, and likely one candy away from a sugar rush. your exasperated exhale breaks him from his sugar trance and he rolls over to prop himself up on his side, crinkling about eight discarded candy wrappers in the process.

"so nice of you to join me tonight~”

you wrinkle your nose at his lopsided grin, “gross satoru, a grown-ass man eating in his bed.”

gojo sneers peering over his glasses which are slowly slipping down the slope of his nose to retort, “and you are a grown-ass woman who still sleeps with stuffed animals so I don’t wanna hear it.”

he sticks out his bright red tongue before tossing the empty wrappers onto the floor to clear up some space. you consider pointing out the digimon plushie that's visible from underneath his bed but decide to let it slide, seating yourself next to him. you are instead much more interested in gawking at the ginormous bag of candy sitting before you.

"there's actually no way you plan on eating this entire bag yourself, right?" you eye his glossy, red-stained lips "your dentist must hate to see you coming."

“and I would happily take on that challenge but—" he pauses to lift a piece of candy wrapped in shiny gold paper, "I actually picked up this bag earlier because I noticed it has these hard candies with honey filling.”

"how considerate and out of character of you," you tease.

he pouts puffing his cheeks out defiantly, "yeah so this stays between us because I can't have you running around ruining my feared, distinguished, and carefully constructed reputation—"

"of being an arrogant asshole?" you finish.

"no silly, I was gonna go with alpha male."

he smugly turns over to lay flat on his stomach, picking out the honey-filled candies and kicking his feet that hung off the edge of the bed. ah yes, the tell-tale sign of an alpha male giggling and kicking his feet while rummaging through sweets.

"right."

you lean back onto your hands making contact with something hard beneath the blanket. upon further inspection, you uncover gojo's beloved nintendo ds littered with sailor moon stickers. you lift it onto your lap tracing a finger over the peeling edge of a bright-eyed feline luna.

gojo glances over at the movement, "I'm just about done, bring that too."

you sit upright pocketing a couple pieces of candy for yourself along with the ds while he shoves as much candy as physically possible into his grey flannel joggers. stretching your legs out you rise to your feet pulling him up by his arm along with you. you’re pleasantly surprised to be met with the soft, warm brush of his skin rather than the cold pressure that is the icy barrier of his infinity.

although you should be accustomed to gojo deactivating his infinity around you, you couldn't help but lightly shudder as the comforting warmth courses through your body. because despite your argumentative banter, you reveled in the fact that the gojo satoru was surrounded by trusted friends who made him feel comfortable enough to let go of the technique temporarily. he hums softly kicking on his slippers and rising off the bed.

now towering over you, he shifts his weight, fully intending to take a long stride toward the door—until your hand presses firmly against his chest, stopping him in his tracks.

“listen—y'know I love you 'toru but before we go in there I'm gonna need you to promise to dial it down about five notches—" you take a breath and press your palms together in a pleading gesture, "so we don’t overwhelm him."

you’re met with a scoff and quirked snowy-white brow, “tch I'm not stupid I know how to read a room."

you release a shaky "okay" clearly unconvinced.

he rolls his eyes swatting at your hands and looping his arm around yours to pull you forward, “now let’s go visit our sweet sugubear~” you playfully bump shoulders giddy because you’re all too aware of geto’s ability to render you both docile.

lifting a hand to tug down your beige baby tee where it had bunched up from gojo’s arm, you allow yourself to be led to geto's room.

upon arrival, you are greeted with silence and the distant droning buzz of cicadas. the soft glow from gojo's ocean-blue eyes illuminates the door, and you can’t help but admire their determined sparkle.

“suguruuuu are ya in there? we know you are so let us in loser.” he accompanies his request with a sharp, forceful knock.

you snort at this tactless approach, slipping your arm out from his to swat at the back of his head. you take a gentler approach, knocking lightly, your plea sincere.

“hey um suguru, we know it’s late but we were hoping to unwind together since we haven’t really had a chance to hang out recently and we know how tiring the past few weeks have been for you and um...well all of us and well we y'know—” you pause from your rambling momentarily, banking on gojo swooping in.

“we miss you 'ru” he finishes loudly.

you both cock your heads sideways towards the door to listen for movement and jolt back when you hear the shuffling of feet move across the floor.

you lean in towards gojo, your voice a whisper, “he’s alive.”

geto's muffled voice responds, “yes yes I'm alive, sorry to disappoint,” his voice sounds strained yet still cracks into a low chuckle. he pulls the door open revealing himself to be dressed in a baggy black sweatsuit wrapped in a thick grey blanket that's pulled around his shoulders and draped over his arms. his eyes are clouded by dark bags and his hair is strung messily around his head, his lips fixed into a friendly, albeit forced smile.

gojo, slightly amused by the disheveled geto in front of him, opens his mouth to say god knows what, but geto promptly warns, “don’t make me regret opening this door satoru.”

"so scary sugu, don't be so mean," he dramatically shivers and you can hear the pout lacing his voice. you giggle into your palm at geto's stern look and gojo tugs sheepishly at his unruly milky-white hair. he approaches the darker-haired man placing a firm hand on geto’s shoulder before continuing inside. you follow suit and hear geto's lock click back into place behind you.

gojo immediately makes himself comfortable kicking off his slippers at the foot of the bed and falling face first onto geto's pillows with a sigh. he pulls out the candy from his pocket and drops a handful beside him. you remove your slippers and neatly arrange them while geto sulks over to the bed. he sits upright next to the candy and you drop yourself beside him pulling your knees into your chest. you all bask in comfortable silence before geto is the first to break.

"already infesting my bed with your sugar addiction huh, satoru?"

"no sufogu, bwought dese fa you" his words come out jumbled from the press of his mouth to the pillows.

geto lifts a single candy to his lap and carefully unwraps it. you lean into his side and point, "these candies are filled with honey 'ru, thought they could soothe your throat some."

geto gingerly lifts the candy to his lips proceeding to gently coax out the flavor, savoring the sweet taste. he tilts his head back, eyes crinkling into a thin line and shoulders easing.

“s'good, thank you."

while he revels in the soothing effect the candy is having on his throat you shift your attention towards his hair situation.

"did we wake you? it looks like you just had the nap of a lifetime." you reach up to twist a strand of hair that somehow defies the laws of physics sticking out horizontally.

"no, not at all," his eyes soften casting downward, "sleep's been more like a privilege lately."

gojo's dumbass barrels right past any underlying message there, nuzzling his face deeper into the pillow, "s'cwazy cuz you haf the soffest bed."

as expected, geto with the patience of a saint, is unbothered by his lack of awareness, reaching out to affectionately ruffle gojo's hair, which earns him a soft, satisfied sigh.

you roll your eyes at how pliant and disgustingly submissive gojo had magically become in a matter of seconds. in turn, you thread your fingers deeper into the stringy black clump that was currently geto's hair.

"ugh there's no way you let your precious hair get this tangled, it physically pains me to look at," you clutch your chest dramatically.

geto reaches up to touch the hair in question, his fingertips lightly brushing against yours. he swallows uneasily, "it's gotten pretty bad huh."

you shoot him a sympathetic look carefully removing the hand in his hair to avoid yanking his scalp. you would never admit it aloud but there isn't much you wouldn't do for him; he's reliable, a comforting presence, and his character is unshakable. no matter how unpleasant or dismissive you and gojo could get at your worst, geto was there. so you didn't hesitate to make him an earnest offer.

"let me untangle it. I just so happen to be extremely skilled at detangling, probably from my years of experience—“ you gesture to your own hair twisting a loose curl around your finger, “—and don’t worry I make adjustments for the tender-headed, just ask utahime."

"wait who said I'm tender-headed?"

you snort and simply gesture to the ground, "just sit down here, okay?"

you try your best to mask your excitement since you love geto’s hair: it’s jet-black, long, and soft to the touch. it always smells fresh, with a hint of vanilla from his shampoo. it’s honestly attractive refreshing to see such well-groomed hair on a man.

geto silently complies, crouching next to your feet to fold up and place down his blanket before retrieving his brush from a nearby drawer. anticipating the whine of an excluded gojo, you reach into your pocket and toss his ds onto his back.

"here satoru, so you don't get bored in the next minute"

he eagerly turns over and powers on the handheld device. he is so easy to placate, if he wasn’t a gojo you would frankly be concerned for his safety.

geto settles between your legs, back against the bed, and expresses his interest, "whatcha playing there 'toru? pokémon?"

you start to nimbly section off his hair using the brush and begin working on the ends.

gojo shuffles closer to the two of you and tilts the screen so geto can get a look.

"nintendogs?" geto asks sounding exasperated and you catch a quick glimpse of a black-and-white spotted puppy pawing at the screen.

you suppress a giggle because gojo truly never disappoints and continue working your way up your section unraveling a particularly large tangle.

"try not to sound so disappointed 'ru its so fun~ its got tons of adorable doggies to play with and its harder than it looks! honestly its a lot of work."

now that absurdity earns him a laugh as you smooth down the top of your section mumbling under your breath, "yeah work."

"well I don't know about all that—but I'm glad you've discovered this month’s hyper-fixation" geto responds with a yawn.

"thank you...i think," gojo replies before quickly being distracted by the incessant yapping of his digital pets.

you take your time working through geto's hair, carefully pulling apart tangles and smoothing out ends, admiring the glossy shine reflected in the low light of his dorm. once thoroughly detangled, you brush through his thick locks while running your fingers through his bangs that don’t quite reach back far enough.

you hear a low hum when your fingers lightly scrape along his scalp so you continue your ministrations to hopefully allow him some semblance of peace. the yapping coming from gojo's direction becomes white noise as you get lost in thought admiring the silky-smooth feel of geto's hair against your fingers.

the satisfying swish of the hairbrush running from root to end sounds strangely cathartic. you note how his hair has grown considerably since the last time you had seen it completely down. it cascades down a little past his shoulders curling up slightly at the bottoms when released from the confines of the brush.

you gather all his hair back intending to indicate that you had finished until you notice a breathy rumbling being released steadily from his mouth. you peer over his head to see his eyes gently resting shut, with a tranquil expression softening his features as his lips part slightly with each slow breath.

somehow he has managed to look perfectly serene, yet impossibly striking. it was a relieving sight to see after this past week made you believe that his face had become permanently fixed into a frown.

"hey—“

you swiftly press a finger to a startled gojo's lips gesturing to the sleeping geto that had slumped into your lap. gojo quickly powers off his game and cranes his neck to get a good look at geto's face.

he stifles a laugh and wraps an arm around your shoulder, "mission accomplished huh?"

you nod contently as a warm gust of his strawberry-scented breath fans your face.

gojo seats himself next to you and begins running his fingers through geto's newly tamed hair. geto releases a long sigh and you can't help but think its awfully cute.

"bet I can do a better hairstyle than you can" gojo challenges, because of course he does. you still take him up on it though; partly because you're competitive, and partly because you want to keep soothing geto through his much-needed slumber.

you smirk at gojo before parting geto's hair down the middle. taking the left side you begin splitting it into four parts to work on a fishtail. you had always wondered how one would look on him if he ever let down his taut bun.

glancing towards gojo whose eyebrows are furrowed in deep concentration, you notice his glasses had been completely removed as he’s struggling to complete a french braid. the braid is somehow tight, loose, chunky, and thin all at once—effectively securing your victory. his pale fingers weave clumsily through one another to continue down.

gojo scowls looking dissatisfied with his work thus far and begins undoing his current progress. near geto's temple the braid had twisted awkwardly and as gojo pulled the strands apart he was met with resistance accidentally yanking geto's head back suddenly.

the motion jolts you all backward and shakes geto awake releasing a pained wince from the rough pull.

"what the fuck guys”

"gojo you had one job" you moan. gojo's white eyelashes flutter apologetically and he rubs soft circles into the spot he had just pulled.

"didn't mean to sugu"

you roll your eyes at his allergy to explicitly apologizing and shove him away from geto's head. dejected, he slowly inches himself to the edge of the bed until he slides down next to geto. he pops a hard candy between his lips that seemingly appeared out of thin air and leans his head onto geto's shoulder.

you swear you can make out a hushed murmur sounding close to a sorry. geto hums and you go back to playing with his hair. you decide to make an effort to style his hair in a way that he can achieve on his own. you lift gojo's head gently to retrieve the hair that had been trapped underneath so he can snuggle in closer, and you begin working on a half-up, half-down style.

once satisfied you make the executive decision to loop the half-up ponytail into a bun and pull out his bangs to frame his face.

geto’s voice calls wearily out, "having fun back there?" his eyes are half-lidded from dozing off, and at this point he’s completely malleable to your touch.

"I'm actually taking this opportunity very seriously sugu."

you retrieve your phone and open the front-facing camera, handing it to him. he positions it in front of his face to view the finished look.

the corner of his eyes crinkle, but you can still make out the deep violet of his irises scanning over your handiwork.

"I actually like this a lot, it looks great," he praises.

gojo cracks an eye open so he can weigh in.

"I don't hate it."

at that you flick the nape of his neck harshly and geto chuckles at the subsequent wince feeling rightfully avenged for earlier.

“so seriously how do I look?”

“pretty—“ “—handsome” you and gojo both blurt out at once.

an awkward silence follows, and you can't help but giggle at your brazen, synchronized boldness.

searching for a way to ease the tension, your eyes fall back onto the camera in geto's hand and you motion towards it to refocus everyone's attention, "well we've clearly established that you look great so don't let the photo go to waste."

you catch his lips curling slightly before he complies, extending his arm to get a better shot. gojo leans back onto geto's shoulder and lazily holds up a peace sign, his cheeks tinged strawberry-red to match his lips. you scoot forward resting your chin on geto's other shoulder, tilting your head slightly and flashing a playful grin.

“perfect, my new lock screen,” you say, giving geto’s bun one final twist.

geto chuckles, low and warm, and gives your knee a gentle pat. “well, in that case, I’m honored.” he shifts his weight, stretching his legs out, visibly more at ease than when you’d first arrived. beside him, gojo, not missing a beat, looks up, hands folded across his chest.

“but of course, I'm more honored, I'm literally the honored one”

geto looks over the image zooming in slightly, "keep talking and you'll be the one cropped out satoru."

this ignites their usual bickering and you scoff. you watch as geto’s shoulders softly shake with laughter and you swear he seems lighter, the tension of the last few weeks loosening. maybe, just maybe, things could return to normal soon.

at least, for this moment, you all felt a little more like yourselves.

#i love them both #self indulgent asf #gojo x reader x geto #satosugu #satosugu x reader #hidden inventory arc #canon divergence #otaku gojo #getou suguru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk crack #jjk smau #jjk fluff #jjk x black!fem reader #shoko ieiri

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torawro · 25 days ago

Text

LIKE SPECKS OF SUNLIGHT IN THE EARLY MORN. ( p. a.)

portgas d. ace & marine!fem!reader.

cw ━━ ! minors, ageless and blank blogs DO NOT INTERACT. reader is written / portrayed as a black woman but you do not have to imagine it as such! everyone is welcome to read <3 reader wears glasses, and is a marine stationed on an unnamed island at a base along the grand line. ‘lazy morning’ / ‘morning after’ kind of vibes so, a bit of pillow talk (?) . references to smut & making love (it already happened). contains some angst & angsty themes throughout (i.e., ace dealing with his self esteem issues, low self worth, etc..) otherwise it’s supposed to be fluffy ( the quiet, somber kind i think ) ! descriptions of kissing & borderline making out. ace is kind of lovesick and clingy but it’s subtle-ish. lots of introspection and reflection on both him and the reader’s part. kind of based on mitski's "my love, mine all mine", definitely had that song on repeat as i wrote this. romantic and deeply poetic rhetoric but y’all already know that’s just how i write lol. told from omniscient point of view (third person). proofread this as i was feeling sleepy, so please excuse any mistakes or things that don’t make sense!

word count ━━ ! 3.9k

notes ━━ ! guess who's baaaaack.....! i know it's been a while since i have published any original work and i want to apologize for that. lately it's been difficult finding the energy to write something for more than five minutes and honestly, i think i just need to rediscover what drives me so i can tap into the zone more often. i missed it though, and hope i get to write more this year <3 anyway, first fic of 2025 and it feels right to make it about second commander of the whitebeard pirates, portgas d. ace. this fic is my late birthday 'gift' to him and something of a love letter because ohhhhh i miss my pookie bear so much :(( this entire idea started as just me thinking about kissing each of his freckles because i have the personal hc that he doesn't really like them, the reason for it is inherently tied to his distaste for his father and by extension himself :/ and then it just turned into this lmao. i hope ace doesn't behave too out of character here, as this is also my first time writing for him in any context, so pls be gentle with me. REBLOBS + COMMENTARY ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED.

IT WAS NOT THE LIGHT chirping of small birds that awoke you, nor was it the ringing of your biological clock telling you that the dawn was near. Instead it was a familiar tugging sensation within the pit of your stomach— the need to relieve yourself— that caused your eyes to peel themselves back slowly and with struggle, slumber from the previous night hasn’t been completely washed away yet.

It took your brain several more moments to dust off enough of its sleepy exhaustion before you attempted to sit up from your comfortable position in bed, but were immediately met with some light resistance.

The resistance in question was a long, muscled arm thrown around your soft torso, blackened ink of a tattoo staining the skin on its bicep. It was still too dark and you were still too tired to make out the sharp angles of the marking, but you knew what they were; your eyes have gazed upon it more times than you could count, and it has made a home in your memory.

That’s when your ears registered the rhythmic and almost nasal snores that flowed from the mouth of the man who held you so securely against his chest, and you almost smiled at how completely at ease and relaxed he seemed.

At times like this, when things were still or you had a moment to yourself, you still could not wrap your head around the fact that you had gotten yourself involved with Portgas D. Ace— willingly at that.

The first time was a fluke at best. That’s the excuse you were going to go with. You didn’t realize he was a pirate— an infamous pirate with hundreds of millions of Beri to his name— until your clothes were already halfway off and you were feverishly grinding down onto his lap like some touch-starved whore who’s been aching to feel something. That ‘fluke’ was one spurred on by alcohol, a particularly rough week at sea, and a sizable lapse in judgment, but you hadn’t felt that…… alive in a long time. But now, two years have passed since you have been seeing Ace in secret like this, and you have long since given up blaming it on a fragile emotional constitution further weakened by alcohol. You knew good and well what you were doing, and you could no longer deny the way your heart was constantly set aflutter whenever you spent any amount of time with him.

You did try your hardest to not let yourself enjoy how … domestic it all seemed: waking up next to him in the morning and falling asleep entangled with each other at night, having him hide out at your cozy apartment for days at a time, cooking him meals when you were relieved of your duties for the day. You wouldn’t— shouldn’t let yourself enjoy such content thoughts too much, because you also knew it could all be over in the blink of an eye. The world could be cruel that way if it wanted to.

But still, that didn’t mean you couldn’t be grateful for these moments. From what you could tell, Ace seemed to enjoy this arrangement as much as you did. And for now, that was enough.

Lightly wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you carefully lifted his arm from around you, moving slow so you wouldn’t wake him up. Once you’ve successfully loosened his hold, you sat upright, a muted ache shooting through your lower body as you shifted around to stand. The ache mostly resided in between your legs, and a flood of memories from just hours ago rushed over you at once, causing a tingling warmth to bloom underneath your skin. Ace had poured so much into you, it never failed to leave you equal parts stunned and breathless when you witnessed his passion overflow from the brim of his being. His hands, calloused palms that always ran hot, had been everywhere— your body could still feel the heat of where they had laid, caressed, groped, smacked, and squeezed. And you involuntarily jolted as you recalled where his fingers and lips had been, how it felt to be pressed so closely against him as he simultaneously took you apart.

After another moment of being lost in your own reverie, you pulled yourself out of it and filed those memories away in a separate corner of your mind, so that you may more fully indulge in them later. As you carefully removed the blankets and climbed over the sleeping pirate, one bare foot had hardly hit the cool wooden floor before a hand wrapped itself around your wrist.

A quiet grumbling noise vibrated from behind Ace’s lips, his eyes remained closed as he spoke, indicative that he was barely awake. “Wh…where y’goin’....?” His words were slurred and thick with sleep, his deep voice reaching the depths of your being to spark something to life in the pit of your belly. But you promptly ignored it for now.

“To the bathroom, I gotta pee.”

He replied with another mumbling sort of noise, presumably one of acknowledgment or begrudging acquiescence— you couldn’t be sure. “M’kay, just . . . hurry back t’bed, will ya? M’cold.”

You found amusement in the inherent irony of his claim that he was ‘cold’ when he always ran a little warmer than most— not to mention his devil fruit powers— but also in the fact that despite his urging you to take care of your business swiftly, he hasn't released his hold on your wrist yet. In fact, he tugged you a little closer to him, as if he was trying to pull you back into bed.

A small smile began to curl at the corners of your lips as you moved to manually pry his fingers from your arm so you can make your way out of the bedroom and down the hall.

For the next several minutes, Ace was left alone.

He stirred in his partially-awake state as he made himself comfortable again in bed, but one eye managed to pry itself open by a few millimeters. It was unfortunate he was roused from his deep sleep, but he was sure he’d doze off again soon enough.

From what he could see, the room was still dark for the most part, his surroundings washed in a rich, navy blue color, a telltale sign that the sun would rise within the next hour or so. Aside from the faint rustling coming from the bathroom, the air was occupied by a serene silence, meaning his innermost thoughts became that much more perceptible to his mind’s ear.

Sometimes, a part of Ace felt like fate had shined upon him— just a little, just this once— when his mind mulled over his…unique relationship with you, and all the events that led up to this exact moment. He too understood the implications of seeing you like this, but he couldn’t find it within himself to let go and move on. There was just…something about you, something special.

Even now, he still couldn’t quite understand why you were taking such a big risk and basically throwing your life away by getting comfortable with a pirate like him. The both of you came from two different worlds, the morals embedded within those worlds constantly pitted you against each other.

But you willingly ignored them, and so did he.

Perhaps that was the ‘special’ quality about you and this relationship that he still struggled to articulate, how pure and genuine it all felt— how you were. Either way, he was grateful that he wasn’t the only one being a little selfish. And every now and again, Ace might silently thank the universe for allowing him this one thing, even though he hasn’t, and probably never will do anything, to deserve it.

The increasing volume of footsteps pulled Ace from his thoughts, and soon enough you reappeared in the doorway, making your way back to bed– back home in Ace’s arms.

Your lips parted in a yawn, putting your hand over your mouth to muffle the sound, before carefully climbing over the taller man to reclaim your spot next to him. Ace wasted no time encasing you against him once more, one arm laid lazily across your stomach and the other resting under your neck, acting somewhat as a pillow of sorts.

“...took too long,” the pirate muttered under his breath, the low, vibrating sound of his voice so close to your ear did nothing for your fiercely pulsating heart. It was the only organ in your entire body that seemed to be fully awake right now.

“I wasn’t even gone for that long, ya big baby. Prob’ly less than five minutes.” A soft sigh punctuated your reply, snuggling more into the toned front of Ace’s chest and abdomen as he adjusted the thick blankets over both of your bodies. The covers, as well as the gentle warmth radiating from his exposed skin, provided a steady stream of heat that battled against the crisp morning air, both sensations nearly enough to lull you back to sleep. You enthusiastically pushed aside the fact that you had to get up again in two and a half hours for your shift to patrol around the city.

“Shuddup, let’s go to sleep.” Ace grumbled, pulling you even closer to him so that very little space existed between both of you, and nearly nuzzling his face in the bonnet you wore on your head. A soundless chuckle rumbled within your chest, finding his sleepy and almost pouty tone both amusing and adorable.

However, despite his own request, and the fact that his own eyes were barely open, Ace was finding it difficult to once more quiet his thoughts enough to drift back to sleep. They were still a bit too loud and knocked against his skull too much.

Such thoughts only seemed to intensify when both of his eyes managed to peel themselves open this time in order to observe your form next to him. From what he could see based on where he laid, Ace silently took note of how tranquil your expression was as your breathing began to even out, how long your eyelashes actually were without your glasses obscuring them, and the small birthmark on your cheek that he developed a habit of kissing. His dark eyes roamed across every inch of your face, and he relished in the soft flesh of your stomach underneath his fingertips, giving it a feather-light squeeze every now and again.

You were here with him— in this bed, hardly wearing anything at all, and practically clinging to the arm wrapped around your abdomen— bound together with a kiss on that fateful night two years ago. You wanted to be here, he knew that. So why was it he still had to wrestle with the phantoms of doubt in the darker sectors of his mind? Why did they haunt him so, and prevent him from just plainly accepting this for what it is? Accept that it was okay to indulge, okay to claim this one thing as his and his alone? He didn’t even claim his own father, but this— you? Oh, how he wanted to be greedy, he yearned for it. But something in him, some dark, caustic, unforgiving thing, made him feel like he shouldn’t.

But didn’t he deserve something nice too? Something that wasn’t, or could no longer be tainted by the wicked and unloving world they were born into?

Ace knew that you cared for him— quite a lot, more than you should. There was a four letter word he might have used to label the way in which you cared about him, and he about you, but he dare not say it. He dared not say it in fear that the universe would snatch it away the moment it left his lips, and reveal that it was only playing a heartless joke on him.

“Hey. Are you… okay? Okay with this, I mean.” The words left his lips without putting a real thought behind them, for his mind was preoccupied with trying to keep itself afloat above the sea of negative ones that tried to carry him off to a place he did not want to visit.

Your left eye opened, then your right, as if opening them would help you better process his sudden question. Your brows furrowed next, digging deeper into your forehead in order to figure out the hidden meaning behind his words— or if there was one to begin with. “I…this position is fine, and I’m comfortable. Unless you want to be closer to the window?” You replied with your own question, uncertainty of what he was asking about thick in your tone. And judging by the way his arm tightened around you by a fraction and the nearly inaudible sigh that left his lips, it became clear that’s not what he was truly asking.

“No, I meant…are you okay with us?” Ace’s already husky voice quieted even more, nearly tapering off into a whisper. But he was pressed close enough to you that you were still able to hear him loud and clear. Something about the way he phrased his question rang a silent alarm in your head, indicating that the forthcoming conversation was going to take a more solemn turn.

With that in mind you shifted in his arms, turning around so that you were now facing Ace directly, still so close that the tips of your noses nearly touched each other. His hold on you readjusted as a result, the tattooed arm once more staking its claim on your waist and effectively trapping you against his front. His sable tresses fell unceremoniously across his face, a few strands nearly covering one of his eyes. Your fingers didn’t miss the opportunity to brush them away.

“Yes.” Your reply was simple, and you thought it important to make that clear first because something, an emotion you were unable to categorize, flickered in his still-hooded eyes. And something about it worried you. “I am more than okay with us. There isn’t another person I’d rather be with right now.” The fingers lingering on his skin suddenly became your entire palm, as you were now cupping the side of his face.

Ace burned even warmer here compared to the rest of his body, and you found physical comfort in the sensation. His skin seemed to ignite under your touch despite his sleepiness, and the dark-haired pirate was internally grateful that it was still quite dark in your room, so you were unable to see the light flush that was beginning to form underneath his freckled cheeks.

“Why are you asking?” Your inquiry was as tender as your touch, and it made his chest ache.

It took Ace several seconds to search for his next words and arrange them in a sentence, for your straightforward reply admittedly caught him off-guard. Now he was unsure if there was a need to continue at all.

But the specters of doubt were ever persistent.

“I just…” The words faded away on his tongue before he could say them and instead, your response rang loud in his head.

‘There isn’t another person I’d rather be with right now’.

Did you mean that? Have you always felt that way? Did you just happen to say that because he asked a question, because somehow you knew that’s what something in his soul wanted to hear?

And then, Ace found his words again. “You can do better, you know.” His voice turned more gruff, rough around the edges, as if he had to forcefully tug those words from the back of his throat. As if it hurt to say that. “You could, if you wanted. You’re gorgeous. Intelligent, resourceful. You have a respectable career, and you can cook damn good.”

You released a soft chuckle at that last part, finding it comical how he always found a way to talk about how good your food was. But whatever uptick on your lips faded as soon as it came once Ace parted his lips to speak again.

“You don’t have to spend your time, money, or energy on someone like me. You didn’t have to spread those pretty legs of yours for me, either. Didn’t have to let me stay here whenever I come to town. You didn’t even have to let me sleep in this bed so close to you.”

He paused, the muscles laying against and wrapped around you tensed briefly, his eyelashes met the apples of his cheeks when he allowed his eyes to close for a moment. When he opened them again, he found it harder to look at you— if he did, he might crumble away. “You could do better than a pirate like me, who has nothing going for himself except for instability, anger and…and hate. So, why?”

The next words reverberated in the air without Ace even having to say them. Why choose me? Why risk all of that for me?

Similarly, something throbbed uncomfortably within your chest as you listened to him speak, even after he finished and silence descended upon the both of you.

You could only wonder where this line of questioning originated from. It was uncharacteristic of Ace to voice thoughts of this nature, even more so when there was no prior word or action to lure them forward. You continued to observe him in the quiet, not even realizing that you had been softly caressing his cheek all this while until your hand came to a halt.

Why? Why were you with Ace, entangled in every sense of the word and jeopardizing the life you’ve built for yourself for his sake? The answer seemed so simple, but not as much now that you had to consciously think about it; you somehow struggled to put it into words.

Ace was like the rays of sunlight that peeked through heavy drapes in the early morning— much like they would soon be in a few hours— or like the flickering flames of a small fire that offered you solace on an unkind wintery night. He was warm and intense, but mellow and tender at the same time, in his own way. He offered you comfort when you needed it, stirred up something in you when you wanted it, brightened your life when you didn’t even realize how dull and monochrome it was. Ace was…

“Allow me to offer a question of my own. Why are you taking an equally significant, if not greater risk, just to curl up in my bed with me? Why come back so often to this town, risking capture, if only to hold me close, eat the food I make, and to make love to me?”

Your inquiries seemed to tug you forward, motivating you to scoot a little closer to Ace so that there was hardly even an iota of space existing in between your faces. His breath hitched quietly in his chest at that, more so when you leaned forward and simply placed your lips on his cheek, right on top of the dozens of prominent and faded freckles that resided there. Something about the gesture felt intentional— like you did not kiss his face, but the light specks on top of it. And thinking about it like that made his taut chest twinge again in a manner he could not describe right now.

Your breaths against his flesh were soft and leveled, and successfully fanned the flames of an even pinker flush to blossom across his visage.

He struggled to give you a coherent answer to your questions because his inner thoughts seemed to reset every time your plush lips came in contact with his face— all gentle like he would break if you applied too much pressure. He never associated that word with himself before, nor had anyone else in his entire life.

So why did he do it? Why did he do any of it? Why was he so attached to you, to your existence, your presence, and everything that reminded him of you?

Ace knew the answer.

He fears he’s known it for some time now.

But would it be right— would it be okay to label it with the word that was sitting on his tongue? Did he truly have the capacity to bear the weight of it? Would this blissful reality he found himself nestled in start to unravel the moment he said it? Would the universe truly let him have this one thing to himself, forever?

A feathery, open-mouthed kiss from you onto his nose cut off his thoughts, but confirmed his answer.

A bleary sort of smile, edges softened by his affection for you, tugged the corners of Ace’s mouth upwards. The hand that encased your waist traveled further downwards to take the meat of your thigh in its grasp, and toss it over his own hips. He had slung your leg over himself in an attempt to hold your bodies inexplicably closer, the feeling of his fingers gliding lazily across your exposed skin caused your pulse to quicken.

“I understand. Thank you.”

Within another second or two, his mouth eventually met with yours. His lips and yours seamlessly molded together, like they were two carved parts of the same whole. It was a slow, saccharine thing, ultimately leading your fingertips to slide back and thread themselves through his dark locks, and the calloused, hot palm on your thigh to grip the area ever tighter— as if you’d evaporate if he didn’t do so.

Ace loved you— was in love with you. His heart thrummed against his chest when he tossed that fact around in his head, gradually accepting it to be true as he steadily deepened the kiss.

He murmured those three words into your mouth after languidly coaxing it open with his tongue so the wet muscle could slither inside and make a home there. It was barely intelligible, but somehow you knew what he’d said. Such a declaration was only reserved for you, so of course you recognized it. Ace didn’t even want the words to linger in the air, lest the universe heard what he had said. He still thanked it though, grateful to whatever deities thrusted you into his path that night so that he could have this moment with you, and build similar ones like this hereafter.

You reciprocated it, quietly sighing the words back into him and he eagerly swallowed them up, giving your thigh an affectionate squeeze in response.

Briefly, you pulled back, but only by a millimeter— not wanting the cold air of the early morning to catch you yet— and your palm ended up on Ace’s jaw. The pad of your thumb brushed over the sheet of freckles with no particular pattern or rhythm, and you absently thought about how they might be your favorite feature on his entire body. As if to emphasize this point, you pressed a lingering kiss onto its surface again, and for a moment, Ace thought he might shut down. He simply could not comprehend the loving nature behind such a simple act, or why it affected him so; all he could do was offer a small, fond grin.

Time still marched forward, but it graciously allowed the pair of lovers to bask in each other for a little while longer. The sky’s hue would slowly shift from a deep navy blue to a slightly brighter one, causing the dimness of the room to inch back into its corners for the day. The sunlight would soon come.

( # ) @icy-spicy @triangularz @pookieace @ichore @valentineluvu

#໒꒱ newborn stand ─ sosa’s filez #one piece #op #one piece fanfiction #black fem reader #op x reader #op x you #one piece x reader #one piece x black!reader #one piece x black reader #one piece portgas d ace #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace fluff #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x black reader #portgas d ace x black reader

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midnightorchids · 10 months ago

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I am kinda curious

What would Jason be like if the coffee Cafe owner!reader built in a small library in her Cafe just for him,like she saw he liked reading and went like 'yup. I am building a small library for him'

This is such a fun idea, but omg please forgive me, I went a little overboard. Once I figured out what to write, I couldn’t stop. I apologize for how long it is. But omg also, I was literally kicking my feet and giggling writing the end lol, Anyways enjoy!

Owning a cafe was a difficult job, there was always much to do— customers to attend to, drinks to make, and maintenance to do. You were always busy, but you loved your job.

You had spent a lot of time curating the perfect atmosphere for your beloved customers. The lighting was warm, with fairy lights and lanterns dangling from the ceiling. There was wooden furniture and two old couches that sat by the glass windows. The tiny space smelled of freshly brewed coffee and sweet bread. The cafe was always inviting.

You had many regulars at the coffee shop, each one with their own story, a different purpose.

For the past six months, twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday morning, a tall man walked in. Jason, you recalled his name from the many times you prepared his drinks. He’d order the same thing every time, a small London fog and a walnut banana bread.

He’d sit at the table nearest to the entrance, his back never towards the door.

Every morning, he’d come in with a new book. You had seen him read Franz Kafka, Oscar Wilde and Jane Austen; he’d read a lot of Austen.

He was a mystery and you wanted to know more.

You found Jason quite handsome. His skin was scattered with scars and you often found yourself staring at the permanent wound near his lips. You wanted to run your fingers along it, to trace it, to kiss it.

His eyes were always kind, a deep shade of green, forest-like you’d think to yourself.

He spoke with kindness. His voice velvety and rich, much like the espresso you’d brew everyday, except his voice was never bitter, almost always doused with honey.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking over at the counter, at you, you’d hoped.

Your coworkers were afraid of him, telling you to stay away, but you couldn’t help yourself. He was like an enticing book, waiting to be read. They’d warn you, “do not engage in too much conversation with the strange man.” But it was as if they were talking to a small child, their words would go in one ear and out the other.

“Strange,” you would never use that word to describe him.

From the small talk you had with him, to his choice in books, to even his taste in tea, you’d never describe him as strange.

Gentle was the word you’d choose.

He was huge, all height and muscle, terrifying to most, however to you, he was everything but that. You saw an angel and you didn’t even know him… yet, you’d tell yourself.

There were days, where you almost gained the courage to ask for his number, maybe ask for small detail, perhaps get a glimpse of his life. But each attempt was futile. Why was it so hard to speak to him for more than five minutes, you’d curse your inability to speak to attractive men.

You were beginning to give up on your dreams of getting to know the beautiful stranger, when he walked in through door.

The conversation began as per usual.

“Morning Jason, what can I grab you today,” you asked politely. He smiled softly in return and you stare at the scar by his lip as he begins to speak.

“Uhh surprise me,” you look at him confused, he’s never done that before and he finds himself smiling harder. “Just kidding, I’ll just the take the usual please,” he says as he places his copy of Jane Eyre on the counter to take out his wallet.

“Brontë, why am I not surprised,” you reply, gazing at the book. You take the cash from his hands and your heart drops. Shades of purple and crimson coat his skin. They’re bruised, again.

“What can I say, I’m a man of taste,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and giggle.

“Now who told you that,” and he shrugs. Then there’s a lull, you don’t know what to say now. It isn’t awkward, but you find yourself starting feeling a little uneasy. God, if you only you could come up with something else to say. You shake your head slightly and begin to warm up his banana bread.

You turn around and wait for him to leave, but he doesn’t walk away to his usual table this time, instead he takes a seat next to the counter. Odd, you thought.

Jason’s gaze doesn’t leave you for a second, he watches you in admiration, you don’t quite catch on.

If you thought Jason was handsome, then he thought you belonged in a museum. You were a work of art in his eyes. The kind of beauty they wrote poetry about. Absolutely stunning.

He wanted to get to know you, speak to you, but he was afraid. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, then he may never be able to see you again. The trips to the cafe would no longer be necessary and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

However today, Jason pushes his fears aside, he feels bold. He finds his confidence and he speaks.

“Do you read much,” he asks suddenly. You place his cup of tea and bread in front of him, and nod your head.

“I do, but not what you read,” you reply and he stares into your eyes, curious. “I mostly read magazines, you know Vogue and stuff,” his smile drops a little, he’s trying really hard to not look judgemental. Cute, you think. “Kidding, I read fantasy mostly,” and his face lights up again.

“So like J.K. Rowling,” he questions.

“No, Harry Potter’s good, but I’m not really a fan of her, you know as a person. I’ve been reading a lot Neil Gaiman recently though,” you say.

“Oh fuck, yeah, she’s said some pretty crazy stuff huh,” and you nod again. “Gaiman though, I don’t think I’ve ever read his stuff before, he any good,” he asks and your eyes go wide, you’re excited.

You spend the next hour of his visit speaking to him about books, about the things that you both like.

You only part from the conversation when there was a customer.

You’ve never felt this way before, all the assumptions you made about him were true. He was an angel, a kind and gentle one.

A month goes by and you notice your relationship with Jason change. Now, instead of sitting by the entrance of the cafe, he sits near you, back against the door. A sign of trust, you assumed. He smiled more, he showed his teeth and he laughed, hard. You loved the sound of his laugh. His eyes looked brighter, greener, emerald-like. He still walked in with a new book, but when the conversation began, it was long forgotten.

You watched his bruises heal and you watched new ones appear, you were always curious, but never had the courage to ask. He’d tell you when he was ready.

As time went by, you found yourself wanting to do something for him, you wanted him to know that you cared. You thought that if your words were going to fail you, then maybe your actions would prove otherwise.

Working a closing shift at the cafe on a gloomy Tuesday evening, you find yourself thinking of different gestures you could do.

Ideas came and left, nothing felt good enough. He deserved the best. Trying to busy your mind elsewhere, you begin to sweep the floors and that’s when inspiration hits you.

There, in the coffee shop, lies an empty corner. An odd spot, not necessarily small, but also not large enough either.

A perfect fit for a decently sized bookshelf. A library, for the community, but most importantly for Jason. You smile to yourself, proud at the thought. He’d love this, you knew he would.

The next morning you find yourself drilling holes into the pale walls of the cafe, trying attach the large shelf you lugged down to the shop.

Once everything was fixed into its rightful place, you begin adding the books, by genre and then by the authors’ last names. You add many of Jason’s favourites, multiple copies of Austen. You add children’s books, comics and something for yourself.

The shelf fits right into the ambiance of the cafe, elevating it honestly. The corner looked cosy and you found yourself wanting to sit by one of the couches with a book and a cup of hot chocolate.

You stare at the shelf once more, proud. Now, you just had to wait.

Jason walks into the cafe the next day, he’s late. He arrives near closing time. It’s just you and him in the cafe, most of your staff left for the day and not many people stayed this late. It’s quiet, the only sound coming from the machines on your side of the counter. He’s holding another book in his hand, but he has no intention of reading tonight.

His hair is slicked back, and there’s a small cut on his forehead. He’s dressed in a white dress shirt and black pants. He looks like he’s coming back from a big event or maybe he’s going to one later. Either way, he looks pretty like this, his arms look more defined and you can make out the muscles on his back when he walks around the room, waiting for his drink.

His eyes wander around the cafe before settling on the bookshelf nestled in the odd corner. His eyes soften, he’s never noticed that before, it must be new, he thinks.

“When’d you get this,” he asks, his fingers running along the spines of the books. He’s smiling, there’s so many books.

“Yesterday, it’s for you,” you say, holding your breath. This is it, the moment you’ve been preparing for.

“For me,” he looks over at you as you settle his tea on the counter. You begin walking over to his side, slowly, riddled with nerves.

“Yes, since you’re always here, I thought you’d like having a book shelf here. It’s like a library, you take a book and then you-“ he cuts you off suddenly.

“You made a library for me in your cafe, are you serious,” he’s trying to hold back a smile, you can tell. His scar gets more prominent when he does that. “Why,” he as asks, his voice is soft, it feels like warm milk with honey, comforting.

“You’re gonna make me say it,” you can’t see your face, but it feels hot, you can tell you’re blushing.

“Yeah, say it. Why is there a library in your cafe for me,” he says, enunciating the words “your” and “for me.” He’s smirking now. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear it from you.

The point of the library was to not have to say anything, for your actions to speak for you, but here you are. Ears burning and palms clammy.

“I…,” you trail off, you look around the room, anywhere but his face. He notices and walks closer, his hands gently make their way around your waist.

“Say it,” he exclaims, it’s not forceful, he’s smiling and shades of pink dust his cheeks.

You close your eyes shut, fuck, you’re going to have to say it.

“I really like you jas-,” and with that, his lips find their way to your own. You move in harmony, much like matcha and oat milk. His lips are sweet, he tastes like the banana bread, he decided to eat while pacing around the cafe. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, you pull back and smile. You peck his lips. Once where the scar is and once more on the centre. He grins.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that from you,” he mumbles against your lips, waiting for you to kiss him again.

And you do, you kiss him again and again.

#this was written before i found out how disgusting neil gaiman is #gn!reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd imagine #red hood imagine #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd headcanon #red hood headcanon #batfam

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myysaints · 2 years ago

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Hi there! I have this silly idea where yuki is y/n (established - actress,singer etc) biggest fan and when lando and y/n officially confirmed their relationship, yuki on his quest to make sure that max will treat y/n right. Lando (borderline amused and annoyed) still try to prove himself to yuki bcs y/n is very fond of him (and provide great entertainment for her). I know this quite ridiculous and would understand if you declined it :)

°˖ ⊹ ꒰ LN4 ꒱ TREAT HER RIGHT─ LANDO NORRIS

LANDO NORRIS x f!singer!reader

genre — fluff

notes — thank you so much for the request! it was not at all ridiculous, i absolutely love this dynamic between lando and yuki !!! ik your request mentioned max, not sure if that was a typo? hopefully i got it right by going with lando :> hope u enjoy this one !!! xx (edit: LOL just realised i called u anon when your user is there TT so sorry bout that!!!)

landonorris

Liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, danielricciardo, and 7,118,249 others

🏷 yourusername

landonorris the sweetest melody i've ever known ❤️

view all 3,741,822 comments

danielricciardo congrats lovebirds 🎉🕊

yourusername miss you already :(

yourusername don't mind me, just appreciating the sweetest boy ever... ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername can't wait to see you soon !!!

yourusername gonna write a whole album about how much i love u

landonorris I'd love that

mclaren Can't wait to see you in the paddock, yourusername ;)

Liked by yourusername, landonorris

If Lando had known this would happen, he’d have never made that Instagram post.

“YOU’RE DATING WHO?!”

The Japanese driver in front of him whirls around in his seat, eyes wide and mouth hung open in askance.

It’s rare that Yuki speaks to Lando; after all, their language and cultural barrier makes conversation difficult. But this is an entirely different situation altogether.

Lando grins sheepishly, casting a look towards Charles, who stands beside him. The Monegasque merely chuckles, leaning forward in his seat to peer at Yuki.

“So, do you know Y/N?” Charles asks with a cheeky smile.

“Do I know Y/N?!” Yuki is practically leaping out of his seat, his excitement causing the other drivers in the area to glance back at the commotion. “Of course I do! She’s the best singer of all time! I always listen to her songs!”

“Oh, are we talking about Y/N L/N?” Pierre, passing by, cuts in, “Yuki loves her. Has a huge crush on her and everything.”

Lando spreads his palms out, grinning. “Guess I’ll have to keep Yuki away from her when she comes to the paddock, hmm?”

The way Yuki’s eyes light up in glee doesn’t go unnoticed, the Alpha Tauri driver’s face breaking out into an uncontrollable grin.

“You’re bringing her! When? Where?!”

“Calm down, mate,” Lando laughs, leaning back in his seat. His heart flutters at the thought of you in McLaren colours, proudly representing him and his team in the paddock, for the world to see. He clears his throat, trying to stop the furious reddening of his cheeks. “You’ll see her at Suzuka. No rush.. I know my girlfriend's quite the catch - but so am I, right?”

At this, Yuki seemingly goes quiet.

Lando raises an eyebrow. “Yuki…? You okay there?”

A moment of silence passes before Yuki gets up, motioning for Lando to follow him. With a wary look towards an equally-confused Charles and Pierre, who both only shrug in response, Lando follows Yuki towards a quieter corner.

Once they reach a secluded spot, Yuki’s eyes darken, his smile dropping instantly. The shift in atmosphere is undeniable. Lando's never seen Yuki this serious, not even after the Spanish Grand Prix. In all honesty: It scares him.

“Lando,” Yuki says, his voice steeled and brows furrowed. “I like you. I think you’re funny, and you’re a good driver-”

“Hey, thanks man,” he jokes. The attempt at keeping the mood light, however, doesn’t work in the slightest.

“-But, look, listen, if you ever think of hurting her-”

“Sorry, are we talking about Y/N?” Lando’s head tilts in confusion.

“Yes, Y/N. If you ever hurt her,” Yuki continues, ignoring the shocked look on Lando’s face. “If you ever try to hurt her, just know that I will never forgive you. Ever. Do you understand?”

“I-” Lando shakes his head, his cheeks going pink. How do you even respond to that? “-Well, yeah, mate, of course. I only want the best for her. Really, I do.”

“Okay, good. 'Cause I’ll be watching you.” Yuki straightens up, a satisfied smile on his face. “Well, I’ll see you around, then! I will look forward to Suzuka.”

And, with a playful punch to the arm, Yuki is off, leaving Lando stunned at what just happened.

So, when Suzuka rolls around, true to his word, Lando shows up to the paddock with you on his arm.

The sight has Yuki running over instantly, a large bashful smile on his face as he greets you enthusiastically.

“Hi! You must be Yuki,” you smile softly, quietly amused at his enthusiasm. “Lando’s told me all about you.”

That was true - Immediately after Lando’s little… altercation, as one might call it, with Yuki, he’d texted you in a frantic hurry. It was, in all honesty, endearing, and incredibly funny. You’d teased Lando about it relentlessly in the days after. Plus, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t used the Alpha Tauri driver’s words as leverage; referencing Yuki’s threat to get Lando to pick up some cupcakes, to let you pick the movie for date nights, and so on.

Lando hums in response, watching with an amused smile as Yuki almost trips over his feet trying to shake your hand. “Y/N, this is Yuki. And Yuki, this is… Well, you already know who she is.”

Yuki’s eyes are blown wide in amazement as he shakes your hand, his grip firm and his smile bright. “Wow, it’s so cool that you’re here! I love your new song, it’s already one of my favourites!”

You share a smile with Lando, who squeezes your side in a playful ‘I-told-you-so’ motion.

“Thank you so much, Yuki, that’s so sweet of you! Tell you what - If you let Lando past in the race, I’ll send you a signed copy of my new album, free of charge, before it even drops. How 'bout that?”

Yuki lets out a loud laugh, shaking his head. "No way! Maybe if Lando lets me through in quali today."

You exchange a grin with your boyfriend, who shakes his head in amusement.

"Alright, it was great seeing you, Yuki. Good luck out there," Lando fist bumps the smaller driver, who waves at you before departing with a pep in his step.

Lando's hand finds yours as you walk back to the McLaren motorhome.

"So, that was Yuki..."

"Yep," he nods in response, popping the 'p'. "What'd you think of him?"

You smile cheekily. "You sure it was him who threatened you that time? He seems so sweet!"

Lando scoffs, shaking his head despite the amused smirk that sneaks up on his face. "You haven't seen him when he's angry. He's a menace on the track, I'll tell you that."

The bright laugh that leaves your lips makes Lando's heart skip a beat, heat rising to his face at the look of joy you send his way. You never cease to make his heart flutter.

"Well, finish in the points, and maybe I'll put in a good word to Yuki then, hmm?"

"Alright, muppet. You can count on that."

"Well..."

You're lying on the bed in Lando's hotel room, his trophy sitting tall and proud on the dresser in front of you.

It's been a crazy past 24 hours. In just this one day, you've witnessed perhaps one of the greatest drives of Lando's career, and at your first ever race, on top of that.

Lando wraps you in his arms, flipping the both of you around so that you lie atop his chest.

You smile he gazes up at you, his chest rising and falling to the steady beating of his heart. You feel so at home in these moments, the in-between spaces of time where you have him all to yourself; no races to win, no cameras to look out for. Just you and him, and the spaces in between your fingers.

You laugh softly as he nudges his face into your neck. "Well, what?"

"Well, you still gotta thank Yuki," he replies, his voice muffled in the crook of your neck. "He let me by on the second last lap. Probably would've lost out on P3 if not for that."

You chuckle, instinctively reaching a hand up to play with his curls. Lando hums lowly, leaning into your touch.

"Thought you were scared of him?" you tease, a playful smile toying on your lips.

"Well, yeah," he mutters out, his tone of voice cheeky, a smile pressed against your skin. "Gotta stay on his good side."

That elicits a giggle from you, and he pulls away from your touch to look up at your smiling face. He cups a hand around your face and pulls you down into a kiss, the two of you breathless when you resurface for air.

"I'll send him a signed CD later," you mumble, leaning back down for another searing kiss. "But I don't wanna think 'bout him right now."

An appreciative hum leaves Lando's lips. "Why not?" he teases, pulling away with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

Your reply has his breath caught in his throat.

"'Cause all I wanna think about is you."

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milksuu · 11 months ago

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❝ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞ ─── ☾⏺☽

pairing: yandere!aphelios x solari!priestess!reader (LoL)

warning: non/con, fem!reader, possessive/obsessive behavior, mentions of blood/violence, religious/fanatical behavior, unhealthy coping mechanisms, minor drug use, implied kidnapping, implied forced relationship, semi-public sex, unbalanced power dynamic, runeterra au

notes: sorry besties, he's a 10 but he's bat shit insane. (so an 11) also any mention of 'her' is the moon goddess, not alune. (we're leaving that sweet summer child out of this.) and for those who aren't aware, phel can speak when not under the influence of noctum, but unable to communicate with alune, which is uh...great in this case. (also not me wanting to write a second part like how why help?)

You never thought you’d stare into the pale visage of the Lunari man the village whispered about.

The one with a vacant face but deadly occupation. Your naïve belief in your own safe keeping was nothing more than an illusion. The sun always faded below the misted cliffs, only for the moon to take its place above the mountain’s highest peak. An endless cycle of hierarchical dominance that rinsed itself in blood and repeated in constant turmoil. Tonight would be no different.

“Don’t come any closer.”

A failed attempt to embolden your voice beyond a meek plea. You stiffened at the thunderous closing of the temple door. A clambering echo vibrated through the marble floor and pillars, past the rows of worship, up to where you stood at the crest of the ceremonial altar. The remaining resonance rattled and sang up your spine, shaking the candle light pinched between your fingertips.

The figure sauntered forward, stepping into the drapes of moonshine filtering from the glass atrium above. Before you stood a deadly beauty; a handsome face rapt with enticing secrets. With a painted crescent that mocked your own solar marking of gold. His lips were a perfect horizontal line, and it was difficult to imagine the ability they possessed beyond lethal silence. His hallowed expression screamed danger—but there was no running away—not when the black abyss of his eyes invited you to stay.

Not as a guest, but as his permanent resident.

“I’m warning you. Take one more step, and I’ll scream. The guards will come and they won’t hesitate to kill you—”

Your voice went taut inside your throat. Your breath sewn shut against your lungs. The weapon he carried listless at his side drenched itself in various hues of red. Fresh enough to steam in wisps around the sharpest point of the blade.

He stalked forward. The clack of his predetermined steps quickening the pace of your heart. When he stood at arms length, you felt the coldest touch of night. The veins layered beneath your skin pounded, flooding every inch of you with mortal dread. It was sickening to think the flush of your flesh would only make the spill of it all the better. The ‘Weapon of The Faithful’—titled by his own blasphemous people—spoke true. His name…you wished you could cleanse it from existence.

“Aphelios.” You damned the name like a plague upon all of Mount Targon. “Murderer. Blight. Heretic!”

You jabbed and swung your candlelight in a pitiful attempt to create distance. His free hand quipped against it, sending it clambering to the ground, banishing the flame to the surrounding night. Creating a hazier veil of darkness where there was only one true light—his moon.

Out of sheer disdain, you attempted to slap his face in recoil. His unarmed hand caught you by the wrist, remaining still as you struggled to free yourself from his trained grasp. With force, he pried your hand open, palm exposed. He brought the skin of it to his stiff lips. Unmoving, he lingered there. His lashes fluttered closed; taking a moment of peace, a moment of prayer.

A moment for sanctum.

His eyes then winged opened, boring into you, through you. Body, bone and soul. And all you could do was tremble within them. Sinking without escape into those black depths of…nothing.

In one swift motion, he brought the blade upwards, slicing through the thin linen of your garments. In a precise vertical line, your gown split into two equal halves. The insignificant barrier between you and him slipped to the ground, splaying like rags at your feet. Your head pounded for you to scream, but your own voice felt lost to you. Knowing it was all meaningless.

No one would hear you.

No one would save you.

Weakened by the surmounting despair of it all, if he hadn’t already had a hold on you, your legs would have given to the earth.

“No—“ you choked out, eyes brimming with tears. It must’ve looked pathetic; the way you placed your only free arm across your exposed breasts. As if any decorum of modesty would spare you. “Please—just kill me. Do nothing else but that. I beg of you.”

Your final sob for mercy reached ears that may as well have been carved of stone. He stalked closer, forcing your lower back to meet the mantled altar behind you. He’d sheathed his weapon, and took both of your hands within one tight grasp, in case you had half a mind to oppose him. You dipped your chin, heaving through a prayer with mournful hics and sniffled utterances. His advancing weight forced your trembling legs to part, and slotting himself between, created a space where your faith could never exist.

You didn’t want to look at him, or rather, you couldn’t. Tears scorched your vision and seared down the round of your cheeks. You flinched when he took your chin, raising your blurry gaze to meet his. In those darkest of pools, something gave. An insignificant speck of light gleaming into a faint existence. His lips moved, but there was no sound. Instead, you traced the words from the bow of his mouth.

‘Forgive me.’

Your heart clenched. Diluted blood spiked with fear drowned your consciousness. It left no room for thoughts to linger; whether or not you imagined even an ounce of sympathy reflected in those sedated eyes. Whether or not you imagined he said anything at all.

The entire world scattered away when he brought your face closer, and kissed away the tears staining the corners of your eyes. You fought to pull away, but he held firm, both your chin and hands locked in the cage of his fingers. From your cheeks, he skimmed his ghostly lips to your mouth. He muffled your protestive moans by filling up your mouth with all of his tongue.

He gave you the salt taste of your own tears. That, and the taste of something else. A saccharine flavor with notes of floral and bitter earth.

A reaction flourished; a slight tingle of your lips at first. It made his tongue feel hotter against yours, as parts of your upper mouth went numb. A stream of lukewarm paralysis seeped past your soft palate, filling every nook and cranny of your mindscape. Yet, the secondary symptoms didn’t stop there. An opposite wave traversed down your throat to your stomach, spilling fire throughout every layer of nerves. You clenched your lashes tight, shuddering a gasp into his open mouth.

When the pain settled into a dull simmer, you wondered briefly, had he felt it too? Had he consumed such a substance by choice? If that was a taste, what pain did he endure if he drank it like an offering of wine?

You didn’t want to imagine the terrible effects it might’ve had on his person. Not if it gave you even a single drop of sympathy. It was revolting enough his saliva was poisoning your pure sense of self. The fog of it sullying your inhibitions, stripping away your layers of moral preservation. To the absolute vitriolic parts of yourself, it made you consider…

What would it be like to be touched?

It was too sick and cruel of a thing to do to you. Since birth, you’d devoted your body and soul to your divine Goddess; The Golden Sister. You wanted to be disgusted by allowing the gift of yourself to become tainted by some awful man. No—he was worse than that. Or any word you could craft and cut the corners of your mouth with. He was, by biblical history, a Lunari man born from the cataclysmic eclipse of two moons. A day that marked the day of reckoning of the Solari faith and your people.

Your clouded senses and busied mouth made you unaware that his hand left your face to trail the mounds and curves of your body. A light touch drifting to your inner thighs. You jolted when a finger graced the sensitive hood of your exposed clit. Your thighs squirmed at his side as you attempted to jerk your knees. It did nothing and stirred nothing from him. Except bolster his conviction, tempting a finger lower, teasing your folds already glistening.

Although light-headed, you ripped your mouth away and nipped at his lip. It sprang forth droplets of blood, enough to taste his iron on your tongue. A trivial satisfaction.

“May you burn at dawn,” you condemned and spat at his lips.

Unflinching, he withdrew his hand and brushed over the blood mark you left. Sweeping it across his bottom lip, along with your saliva, he rolled the consistency between his fingers in private contemplation. Before he looked you dead in the eyes and stuck his fingers inside his mouth. Sucking and licking till his fingers dripped. Watching sent a lightning strike coiling down your spine.

He loomed his weight forward until your back met the altar mantle. With your palms pinned above your head, and legs coaxed wider. His coated hand repositioned down to your entrance, and you writhed with any strength your body could lend. His hold wrapped around your wrists squeezed, gentle in its reprimand. He leaned down to brush his face at the side of your cheek.

“Please…for your own sake.”

Your eyes widened at his frayed whispers stringing together. Breathing life into what seemed like an empty shell of a person. The frigid space between his mouth and your ear kindling with the slightest bit of warmth. It was what you feared the most. Forced to accept he was every bit human, with a horrid courtesy to use polite words and a pleasant, sickening tone. More insult to your injury. You wished he hadn’t spoken at all. Letting you believe in your mind that he was more aberration or phantom. Or anything else that carried not a single hint of a beating heart.

“I don’t want to hurt you…not anyone, really.” Again, comforting yet noxious. And it made whatever was inside you throb so terribly. As if he could sense it, he reached for it. His salivated finger split through your folds, sliding into the heat of your cunt. It elicited a drawn out whimper as you felt the sensual brush of it against a bed of tingling nerves. Gradually revealing a hidden desire you hadn’t wanted to gratify him with.

“But you…and your people…need to accept what can’t be denied any longer.” He punctuated his words with each thrust of his finger as it curved into that crescent shape you despised so much. Yet, you couldn’t deny the way it made your most feminine parts unravel at the seams. ”No matter how high your sun rises, my heavenly moon will always eclipse it. And fill the sun with Her beauty for all to see.“

A hitched whine fluttered past your lips as he easily slipped a second finger. While the heel of his palm pressed in circles, spreading your arousal and stimulating your plumping clit. Your cunt unashamedly sucked on his long fingers, encouraging him to mold and form you into what he needed you to be—a conduit for the undying affections of his faith.

“You might not see it, but the divine path has been shown to me. The one that’s led me to you. You can feel it at least, can’t you?” He flexed his digits and plunged a third finger. Deeper than the last, fuller than before. Your hips rolled forward on their own accord, craving every bit of attention from his touch.

With deliverance, you answered the question with a wail and arch of your back. Your whole body washed its nerves in a blinding heat. His fingers curled and flexed at your hungry walls clenching around him. It pushed a gush of sticky fluid from your twitching hole into his circling palm. Coming down from the spasms, you sobbed at the humiliating response of your body.

“So you do feel it.” There was a hidden sentiment of relief in his otherwise placid delivery. As if he’d purged the last blot of doubt that restrained him. You swallowed a mouthful of whines as his probing fingers continued undulating inside you. “Your body…it’s begging to devour me in all its warmth. And mine, yearning to take all your bright stars and bathe you by moon glow alone. Wanting us—and only us—to become one.”

Without warning, he emptied you of his fingers, a filthy squelch following with it. You sucked in a gasp at the crippling cold he left you with. But he wouldn’t abandon you for long. Shifting in the dark haze above you, he unsheathed his length from his garments and pressed himself against your sopping cunt. He dragged his fullness against your swollen and slicked folds. He wasn’t even inside you, yet you felt an agonizing cramp fisting in your stomach.

“By Her orders, by Her design…” he spoke through tight whispers, strained by his own anticipation. Pressing his full weight down, he hovered mere inches above you, panting bouts of aroused breaths against your lips. “Let us Converge.”

You squirmed and bucked underneath him. “Nn…not with you…anyone but—!”

You broke off into a high-pitched cry as he stretched you open, filling you up till he bottomed out, and pressed up to the hilt of his hips. He silenced both of your newly coupled hymns with his mouth, and each lap of his tongue matched the tempo of his generous thrusts. The sharp, intrusive pinch died as quickly as it came—the insignificant remnants of toxin dulling bits and pieces of certain pain receptive nerves. A gift, perhaps, in this instance. He had also prepped you well enough to accept all of his adoration, as intended. Another gift, as someone of his ‘giving’ nature may phrase it.

Pulling away slowly, the tip of his head rubbed graciously against every ridge of your swelling walls, before languidly pushing back, going past where you seemed to end. Beyond your farthest points you hadn’t thought existed. Pressing and rubbing all your soft spots and cervix with careful deliberation.

Then again, and again, and again.

“Can you feel it…my devotion…” he groaned into your open-mouthed kisses, continuing to work himself inside you. You weren’t even sure if he was speaking to you, or through you to his false Goddess.

His free hand found the round flesh of your breast, rolling your budded nipple delicately between the pad of his thumb and index. The other hand, squeezing at your captured wrists, but never tight enough to bruise. He had you lulling in a spellbinding rhythm underneath him, your hands fastened above your head, and hair spilling over the opposite side of the altar. When his mouth left your full lips, he possessed the nape of your neck, sucking the delicate skin above your life line. Your mewls, laced with the chasteless sounds of his base squelching at your entrance, leapt your pulse to an unreturnable pace.

“So warm,” he moaned low, staving off a growing need to revel in his own whines of ecstasy. “This pure sunlight of yours…I’m blessed to be the one who takes it. And you should be too. What an honor it is to be of service to my moon.”

You wanted to hate everything about it. The way he kissed you, the way he moved inside you—but you couldn’t. Every stiff and engorged part of him pressed almost lovingly against your most vulnerable parts; but that wasn’t the proper word for it. His affectionate caresses were zealous in origin. Not even for you. And boderlined a hedonistic doctrine you couldn’t describe. It would’ve been better if he were a man of barbaric qualities; rough and brutal. Not purposeful and diligent and—dared you admit it—tender. If he were the former, then your disgust could be justified, and your body would refuse him in its own rightful way. But it defied you, the lecherous thing. Insisting you melted beneath him and reduce to nothing but a drenched mess. Completely at the mercy of this Lunari man’s act of worship.

“Are you finally realizing it now? How generous my Goddess is compared to yours.” He abandoned the curve of your throat. Within the flush of his face, his eyes were suppled in absolute vindication at your shameless image. “How willing you are to accept me—to accept Her.”

“N-No…I’m…not…I won’t,” you pried your tongue for words.

He drawled out a quivering whine from your mouth. His body picking up to an impassioned pace, rutting into your sweltering heat. Tethering on his own abandoned pleasure. Your legs pushed themselves wider, opening yourself up more for him, drawing him deeper to pound against the tender knot growing in your belly.

Choked moans tightened in his throat. Your radiance gripped him with conviction, burning him so divinely from tip to base. Dragging him closer to your complete consummation. His fingers caught the contour of your face, tilting your head back. Your already swimming eyes rolled to follow, and watered at the sight of your Solari Goddess. Carved out from the temple wall, her sacred marbled gaze met your disgraceful expressions.

“That’s…hn…alright. You can lie to me. I’ll—we’ll always forgive you. But can you say the same for your deity? As she watches her little sunlight being pleasured by the moon’s devoted weapon. I—ha…doubt it very much.” An airy laugh cut through his thick moans intertwined with yours. He continued, inhaling and exhaling his words, raspy and down right broken. “It’s—almost our time…as reverence…your insides…with all of my…”

You couldn’t refuse the vile implication of his words. Not when his thickened, throbbing cock lapped achingly against your muddled core. Your blood boiled, draining out from your collapsing bodily veins to well up inside your stomach. Applying a pressure that made you want to burst into unmendable fractals of yourself. And you did—that tight knot broke in an instant, dilating your insides in a blaze of heat. Flooding you so wholly, you almost forgot to breathe through your delirious sobs of release.

When the smooth ridges of your walls clamped down, you heard it first as a moan of afflicted surrender on his part. Then, the cock buried inside you pulsed. A stream of white-hot fluid poured into you, shooting well past your cervix, bathing your womb with his warmth. But he didn’t stop there, continuing to indulge. He pumped and pushed the concoction of unified fluids till it poured past his base, and dripped in milky heaps from your hole. His pelvic and abdominal muscles shuddered as his hips rolled slowly but needingly, nursing himself through his over-stimulating climax.

From your tearful, half-lidded gaze, you witnessed a wet glisten in his own eyes. Whether induced by overwhelming pleasure or pained remorse, you would never know. You didn’t want to know.

It didn't matter.

They evaporated the moment he blinked again.

When the heaves and pants subsided, only the echoes of your whimpers remained. Unfastening his grasp from your wrists, his icy hands cupped your sulking face, idly running his thumbs across your soaked cheeks.

“I understand your pain. Believe me, I do. But no amount of tears will keep the celestial cycle from shifting in the moon’s favor. Like any phase, there will be a moment when you won’t hate me as you do now. You might even come to...love me.”

The way he paused made it seem he had no sense for the word. Or what the difference was between what was love and obsession. The look he possessed didn’t instill solace, either; his eyes mere slits of black against his porcelain face. Promising the moment you dared turn away from him, the back of your neck would bleed.

”I swear to you. From this night on, you’ll burn brightest by my reflection. And only my reflection. So long as there's breath and blood in this body, I’ll protect your sunlight from ever fading in the hands of anyone less deserving than mine. By cosmic fate, you’re my entire purpose, my entire existence...” he bent and kissed the solar marking painted on your forehead. “My orbit.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #league of legends #aphelios x reader #yandere aphelios x reader #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yandere league of legends #reader insert #tw noncon #mdni

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certainlynotasimp · 2 years ago

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HIIIII! Okay so this idea has been living rent free in my head. But what if Miguel was away on a mission, and Sunny saw it as an opportunity to go ahead and jam out with headphones/earbuds/AirPods. Sunny’s a pretty good singer she just.. doesn’t like bringing it to people’s attention much. And I recommend listening to Can’t Tame Her by Zara Larsson. Sunny’s having the time of her life singing and dancing. Miguel gets back, and Sunny’s still jamming out until she eventually turns around and practically screams seeing him just standing there and all embarrassed 😂 what happens after that is completely up to you.

Dance With Me

(Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader)

A/N: I'm BACK!! lol. I'm so sorry for the long wait on your request and I absolutely love this song!! Such a bop. I honestly changed some details of your request and I added some details that my lovely Latinx spiderlings mentioned.

A/N: If you guys wanna read some more of my stuff, check out my master list. I have closed the tag list, but if you guys want live updates, a meeting place for simps, and maybe get your ideas added to fics, then come join the discord!

WARNINGS: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/ Female Pronouns, Pregnancy, Fluff, Embarrassing situation, and Deepl Translated Spanish ((Y'all let me know if the translations are better with this new site some of y'all recommended.))

~~~~~~~~~

“¿Segura que vas a estar bien sola, mami?” Are you sure you're going to be alright on your own, mami? Miguel mumbles as he looks at his love standing by the oven. His eyes cautiously watch her hips sway softly as she hums softly to herself and makes her French toast. Her swollen stomach makes her movements seem more imbalanced.

“I’m sure, Miggy.” The heavily pregnant woman reassures her love. The woman turned back to her worried lover as he stood by the door in his blue spider suit.

Hitting the third trimester of pregnancy has led to Miguel becoming more of a protective force than he was before. He already had to fight his stubborn little sunshine to be benched during the first two months of her pregnancy, which resulted in the compromise of her moving into this apartment to appease both of them. Now in the sixth month of bringing this new little life into the world, the man had to basically be pried away from his apartment in order for him to go on missions outside of his dimension.

For example, if there wasn’t another Spot on the loose again, Miguel would be content with staying home with his girls and gorging on the trashy romantic comedies that she kept playing on repeat. Of course, he would never voice his disdain for the films. Not when he gets to see her eyes light up in delight as her voice floods the apartment in laughter.

“You really don’t need to worry about us, mi amor.” She calmly assures him as she wraps her arms around him. Her bump made it difficult for her to embrace him, but the little flutter of feet against his abdomen made up for it. “We always know that Papi will always keep us safe.” She mutters as her bright smile cuts through Miguel’s heart.

Cupping her face, Miguel whispers softly, “¿Qué hice para merecerte?” What did I do to deserve you? He presses gently kisses on her forehead, cheeks, and lips as she giggles at the feathery light affection. Miguel knees down and pressed a firm kiss on her bump while whispering, “Pórtate bien, Estrellita. No quiero que le causes muchos problemas a tu mami mientras no estoy.” Be good, little star. I don't want you to cause your mommy too much trouble while I'm gone.

A strong kick meets Miguel’s lips unexpectedly as he chuckles at Maria’s attempt to tell her father to get on the road.

Standing up, He gives his love another kiss before heading out. As he swings away, the pregnant woman looks down at her bump and mumbles.

“Now that Papa is gone, we can have some fun.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Lyla, si vuelves a mandarme a algún sitio así, te pondré en el monitor de bebés de Mayday.” Lyla, if you ever send me anywhere like that again, I will put you into Mayday's baby monitor. Miguel seethes as he limps out of the portal with the rest of the team.

The mission was a lot more difficult than the team was briefed on. They knew that The Spot was involved, but Lyla didn’t mention Doctor Octavious and a Prowler would be there as well. Miguel had handled the two while the others worked to capture The Spot, but the task wasn’t easy as the large claw marks along his sides and heavy bruising proved. Luckily, they managed to capture the enemies, but everyone receive a significant amount of damage.

Lyla laughs as she plays with some weird virtual version of a toy Gwen had yesterday. The annoying popping of the rubber bubbles causes Miguel’s already sour mood to worsen as she muses, “ No need to fuss, Miggy. You guys are still alive and ready to kick ass tomorrow.”

“I don’t think being alive is a good thing right now…” Pavitr groans as he plops onto the floor as Hobie grumbles beside him about his destroyed guitar.

Jess rolls her eyes as she plops herself in Miguel’s normal spot by the monitor and throws Miguel a knowing glance.

“Why don’t you head on home, Migue?’ Jess offers which causes him to look at her a little surprised. “You need to be home with Sunny. Believe me, I understand how uncomfortable she is right now.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.” Miguel argues, “What about your-”

“My husband can handle Little Bit while I finish this report.” Jessica shuts him down as she shoots him a familiar glare he recognizes from his own mother. God, he hopes his sweet sunny doesn’t develop a glare like that. She would have him running for his money.

Miguel silently thanks his friend as he leaves, opting to swing home instead of the portal. Deciding to pick up some takeout from her favorite restaurant on the way.

~~~~~~~~

As Miguel approaches the door to their apartment, the soft buzz of pop music filters through the thick walls of the building. His eyebrow quirks up as he softly opens the door. The young black and white mass of fur greets with silent chirps as Miguel shushes him. He closes the door quietly as he kneels down and scratches behind the cat’s ears.

“¿Qué hacían nuestras chicas mientras yo no estaba, Moony?” What were our girls doing while I was gone, Moony? He coos as he stands up and places the bags of food on the counter.

Moony runs off as the soft voice he loves fills the apartment.

“Don't need no one, she can dance on her own

Club is closin', but she ain't goin' home

Night is still young, where the hell will she go?

Nobody knows nobody knows”

The hyper-pop music boomed from the sound system as Miguel rounds the corner and his face splits into a bright grin. His red eyes soften as he watches his pregnant love freely dancing around the living room with a pint of ice cream in her hand. His worn sweater consumes her frame as she twirls and blurts out lyrics.

“Can't tame her magic energy

She's so magnetic, pulls you in every time (every time)

Every time (every time)

But she don't care, she gonna do what she wants (she wants)”

Watching her ridiculously move with a large bump almost made Miguel chuckle, but he didn’t want to disturb her yet. He waits for her to twirl one more time before stalking toward their bedroom.

She continues her private concert as she shoves a spoonful of ice cream before using it as a microphone. The utter giddy from these past few months filled her being as she sings out.

“And you can't tie her down

When the night comes around (around)

Said she gonna party all night (all night)

And you can't change her

Can't blame her, can't tame her”

A pair of warm arms wrap around her waist as her heart stops in her chest for a moment before a warm purr rumbles in his chest. She relaxes as her purring lover mumbles, “Parece que tuviste un día divertido, mi amor.” You look like you had a fun day, my love.

“I did.” I giggle as she can feel his hips sway to the music with hers, playfully dancing with her. His warm hands gently rub her stomach as their little one happily greets her father with little kicks. “She’s gonna be ready to fight crime by the time she gets out of there.” She jokes through a particularly hard kick. The mother was now sure that Maria is gonna be as strong as Miguel with the bruises she was starting to have.

“Bien. Quiero que aleje a todos esos niñatos de ella hasta que tenga treinta años.” Good. I want her to fight all of those little boys away from her until she's thirty. Miguel grumbles as he thinks about his little girl possibly dating little punks in the future.

“Papi, she’s not even here yet and you’re already so protective.” She giggles as she turns around in his arms. Her eyes light up as she’s met with her grumpy boyfriend’s bare chest and low-hanging joggers, but a pout appears as she sees the large claw marks and bruises running on his sides.

“Por supuesto que sí.” Of course, I am. Miguel smiles mischievously as the music transitions into a familiar upbeat tune that causes his love’s concern to fade to amusement. “Tengo que proteger a mis hijas y mostrarles cómo los hombres de verdad tratan a sus hijas.” I have to protect my girls and show them how real men treat their girls.

A whirlwind of laughter fills the room as Miguel starts to pull her into the Cumbia. Her moments of imbalance missteps were soothed by his strong hands as he catches her. The couple spend their evening in each other’s arms dancing and loving their growing family.

~~~~~~~~~~~

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#miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara #across the spiderverse #fanfic

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tonyspank · 1 year ago

Text

LOST IN THE FIRE

black!singer!reader x jenna ortega (they/them pronouns, but there’s mentions of them having a pp, lol)

warnings: fluff and a tiny bit of angst i guess, my poor attempts at humor again, social media w a bit of irl

a/n: i’ve always wanted to do a social media book. so this is just something fun i came up with, i hope you enjoy :) it’s also a way i can put u guys onto my fav songs 🤭

faceclaim: khalil beth

Is Percy Hynes White Dating Jenna Ortega?

Jenna and Percy have yet to confirm or deny dating rumors, but they have posted many cute cast photos of one another on Instagram. On top of that, Jenna took Percy as her plus one date for the 2023 Golden Globes — and they're set to star in a movie together!

━━━━ iMESSAGE

3 talented artists + jack lani - kehlani jackie - jack tae - matteo

lani Y/N sweetie..

jackie 🙁

tae what'd i miss??

jackie Y/N's fav ex is dating an ugly man 🥺

tae JENNA? NAHH

tae let's hope she leave him too 🤞

tae she'll miss the bbc 🥲

lani omg wdf 😭😭

you ...

jackie now the dots was a lil dramatic

lani JACK 😭😭

you jack stfu before i shave ur beard

tae got his ass

lani LMFAOO

jackie 🤐

tae ok ok but Y/N how are u rn?

lani frr like talk to us

you wdym?

you we broke up why would i be bothered

jackie

🤨

tae 💀💀

lani i've never met anyone who still likes their exes posts

you it's called being mature

you i am able to support her regardless of what happened

tae it's called being delusional

jackie laughed at "it's called being delusional"

jackie i have an idea

jackie

tae fam what is ur camera roll? 💀

lani what's ur idea jack

jackie i'm gonna ask demi for an invite to the scream 6 premiere

jackie then me and Y/N gon jump percy in front of jenna right

lani

side-eye…

jackie and then jenna gon be like

jackie oh my god not my mans getting his ass beat by my ex & their bsf tf

you please stfu 🙏

jackie bro

jackie i'm tryna help you save ur gf from a guy who looks like the definition of pervert

tae laughed at "i'm tryna help you safe ur gf from a guy who looks like the definition of pervert"

lani 😭😭😭😭

lani i can't breathe

you it's literally just a rumor that they're dating tho

you & i'm not going to the premiere

jackie mhm

━━━━

y/nhart posted on Instagram.

Liked by jackharlow, devyn_nekoda, and 7,891,103 others

y/nhart what's your favorite scary movie? 🔪 #ScreamVI @screammovies

View all 12,793 comments

screammovies��You, of course. 🔪🩸 > y/nhart can we kiss?

jackharlow what did you say in the group chat? > y/nhart that jack harlow is a flop 🤫

user15 bro doing everything but dropping an album 💀 > user1 ong. right my wrongs ep was amazing but it's been 8 months 😭

mrmatteo where was my invite? > y/nhart drop a song then let's talk > user3 what a hypocrite 💀

user8 bite me

kehlani you could never be ghostface > screammovies Its always someone you know. 👻🔪🩸

user11 GO TO THE STUDIO

user992 i have $1,000 frank will drop before this mf

user90 MORE JENNA AND Y/N CONTENT??? > user78 i missed them :')

━━━━

Your eyes were starting to water due to the number of flashes from the cameras that were going off around you. The bright lights made it difficult to keep your eyes open, but you knew that this was just part of being in the spotlight.

Jack places a hand on your arm, slightly shoving you towards the exit. You ignore the yells of your name and continue to make your way off the carpet.

Your bodyguard, who had been standing nearby, steps in to create a path through the crowd, shielding you and Jack from the relentless paparazzi.

"Did you talk to Jenna?" Jack asks, leaning close enough for his voice to be heard.

You send the bearded man a glare, shaking your head. "No. I don't even think she's walked the carpet yet."

Jack raises an eyebrow before turning his head to the carpet, which is still filled with celebrities and flashing cameras.

He scans the area, searching for any sign of Jenna among the chaos. He then turns back to you with a smirk on his lips. "I think you're just ducking her."

You roll your eyes at Jack's teasing remark.

"Please, like I have time to play hide and seek with Jenna. I'm just trying to avoid the relentless paparazzi."

You gesture towards the swarm of photographers jostling for the perfect shot.

Jack hums, his smile widening. A thought clicks into his head, causing his smile to drop.

"Oh, yeah! I talked to Melissa, and she is fine as fuck."

You thin out your lips. Jack probably didn't know she was married.

"I'll tell her husband you said that."

"You know what they say. Don't let your husband distract you from finding the love of your life."

You chuckle at his joke.

━━━━

"May I say you look amazing tonight?" The interviewer states, smiling as they admire your appearance.

You smile, bringing your hands together to calm yourself before responding.

"Thank you so much."

"Are you a big fan of the Scream franchise?" The interviewer asks, moving their microphone closer.

You nod, your eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Absolutely! Ghostface is such an iconic character, and I love the twists that they put in the movie. It just always keeps you on your toes."

The interviewer chuckles, sharing your enthusiasm. "I completely agree! The Scream franchise has definitely left a lasting impact on the horror genre with its clever storytelling and memorable characters. Speaking of memorable characters, whose is your favorite?"

You pause for a moment, looking up at the sky as you bite down on your lip.

"Uhh... It's hard to choose just one, but if I had to pick, I would say Roman Bridger. I didn't suspect him at all, and his reveal as the mastermind behind everything in Scream 3 was a total shock. Plus, Scott Foley's performance was absolutely chilling."

The interviewer nods, appreciating your choice. "I couldn't agree more. He's surely one to remember."

You nod again, smiling. "For sure. I've always wanted to play Ghostface. Taking off the mask and revealing your plan must be so fun."

The interviewer laughs and says, "I'm sure you'd do great."

Before you could respond with a thank you, the interviewer speaks up.

"Jenna! It's so nice to see you." You turn to see Jenna, your heart dropping at the sight of her.

You force a tight-lipped smile at the brunette. "Hey Jenna, long time no see," you say, trying to sound casual.

Deep down, you can't help but wonder if she still thinks about you.

Jenna returns the smile. "Yeah, it's been a while," she replies softly.

Memories of your past together flood your mind, and you can't help but wonder if there's still a chance for reconciliation.

"You guys are so stunning, I can't even!" The interviewer gushes, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Jenna chuckles, her eyes meeting yours briefly before she turns her attention back to the interviewer.

"Jenna, I've gotta ask. Are you a fan of Y/N's music?" Jenna nods her head, glancing at you again before answering.

"I am. They're very talented musically, and I'm waiting for another album."

You try to fight back a smile, but it fails miserably. The interviewer notices your failed attempt to hide your smile and chuckles.

"Seems like there's mutual admiration here," they remark, noticing the subtle connection between you and Jenna.

You tilt your head, shrugging a bit. "I guess you could say that. Jenna's very talented herself, both musically and in acting."

Jenna feels the butterflies in her stomach erupt as you compliment her.

She's missed you, and she wants nothing more than to reconnect with you. She blushes slightly and responds, "Thank you."

━━━━

You walk over to Jenna, interrupting her conversation with Percy. "Jenna."

Jenna turns towards you, a surprised expression on her face as she pauses mid-sentence.

"Come home with me?"

Jenna's eyes widen as she processes your unexpected request, leaving her momentarily speechless.

After a brief moment of hesitation, she nods slowly, her curiosity piqued. "Sure, why not? Let's go."

Percy furrows his eyebrows, watching you and Jenna walk off together.

When you arrive home, you take off your jacket and help Jenna with hers.

Jenna mumbles a thank you before making herself comfortable on the couch.

She looks around the unfamiliar surroundings, seeing as you've changed a few things since the last time she was there.

Jenna's eyes linger on a Polaroid of you and her, capturing a happy memory from months ago. Of course, Jenna still loved you, but was she ready to take the risk of getting hurt again?

She couldn't bear the fact that things might not work out between you two, causing more heartbreak.

Fame had always been a double-edged sword for Jenna. While it had brought her success and recognition, it also came with constant scrutiny and pressure.

It's what ruined you two. Jenna being constantly busy due to acting and you constantly being busy due to singing made it difficult for you both to find quality time together.

Despite the love that still existed between you, the demands of your respective careers created a growing distance that neither of you knew how to bridge.

You walk into the living room, two glasses of wine in your hand. "Actually," Jenna speaks up, and you raise your eyebrows in anticipation.

She continues, "Could we sit on your balcony?"

You nod, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Of course," you say, leading the way to the balcony.

As you settle into the comfortable chairs, the city lights twinkling below, Jenna takes a deep breath and says, "I miss moments like this, just being together without any distractions."

You take a sip of your wine, pausing to savor the flavor before responding. "Me too," you say, gazing out at the night sky.

"I missed you."

Jenna's eyes soften, and she reaches over to gently touch your lap. "I missed you too," she whispers.

"I hope you know that I'm not dating Percy."

"I know," you reply, a small smile forming on your lips. "I knew you wouldn't downgrade like that."

Jenna chuckles softly, her dimples beginning to show. "That's hilarious."

A silence falls over the two of you.

"I couldn't imagine being with anyone other than you," you snap your head towards her, your heart swelling with love at words.

She always knew the right thing to say.

"You're the only one who truly understands me, Y/N." Jenna's eyes meet yours, her brown pupils glistening in the moonlight.

"I can't find myself being vulnerable or trusting with anyone else." She finishes off, breaking away from your gaze.

You don't say anything, you just place your hand over top of hers, which was resting on your lap.

━━━━

y/nhart posted on Instagram.

Liked by jennaortega, jackharlow, kehlani, bnyx, and 13,829,100 others

y/nhart 12...??...23...lost in the fire...earned it...all mine...confident...all mine...oui...greece...get me...kiss land...for free

➕➕➕.

meltdown...i'd do anything to make you smile...boyfriend,girlfriend...rambo...let em'know

@chancetherapper @djkhaled @kehlani @travisscott @jackharlow @feliciathegoat @theweeknd @bnyx

View all 46,829 comments

user12 OMFG BRUH

user99 AOTY

jackharlow deluxe 🔜

bnyx 👨‍🍳🔥🎶

theweeknd 🫡

user77 couldve had better feats tbh > user880 STFU

djkhaled 🔥🔥🔥 WE'LL NEVER STOP 🛑!!!

>user14 TELL EM BRING OUT THE ALBUM ALREADY

user67 i'm about to cry.

━━━━

y/nsrealwife posted on Instagram.

18,782 likes

y/nsrealwife i stand by what i said

View all 138 comments

user11 unknown? it's jenna😭 > y/nrealwife me when i'm delusional

user45 there's no misses on the album + they ate down in the deluxe > user89 came in my pants when they came on the track w that "t-time, t-time, t-time.."

user66 can we talk abt for free? bro had like 10 viagra pills before pulling up to the studio > user77 💀💀💀

jackharlowsbeard kehlani & jack on the album made me so happy.

━━━━

y/nhart posted on Instagram.

Liked by jennaortega, jackharlow, mrmatteo, kehlani, arianagrande, and 17,839,138 others

y/nhart mega christmas dump 🎄@jennaortega @jackharlow @mrmatteo @kehlani

Comments have been limited.

tonyspank had to put it in a collage due to the 10 photo limit 🙁

—

jennaortega has posted a story.

#tonyspank #wattpad #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega gn!reader #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #black!reader #jenna ortega x g!p reader #jenna ortega x black!reader #jenna ortega x singer!reader #social media

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sleepyhutcherson · 11 months ago

Text

nine in the morning

mike is a difficult morning person… and an even more difficult person to to wake up in the morning. he’s not in the best mood when you finally wake him so you try to cheer him up with pancakes.

REQUESTED! | MASTERLIST ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

PAIRING : mike schmidt x gn!reader

WORD COUNT : 1.1k

CONTAINS : established relationship, fluff, affectionate mike, also whiny mike, he literally just wants to stay in bed lol, no use of y/n, slight grumpy mike.

A/N : i feel like i rarely write mike being grumpy,, but i definitely need to like that man definitely would be in a bad mood in the morning. also i feel like this rlly messy… sorry in advance. OH! and thank you anon for the request, sorry for taking so long w it but i hope you love it ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

Mike was snoring so loudly you woke up to the sounds. He was snoring especially loud today, he was probably comfortable. His face is buried in your neck, his arm draped over your waist, there’s barely any space left between the two of you, your legs entwined. You peek over at the clock on the nightstand and your eyes widen when you realise it’s nine in the morning! For a moment you panic—Abby had to be at school by now! Before you can sprint out of bed you remember it’s Saturday and Abby was at a sleepover. Anyway, it was way too late to be in bed so you press a gentle kiss on Mike’s temple, running your hand through his hair—in an attempt to wake him up. He moans softly at your touch, his stubble tickling as he moves around slightly causing you to giggle.

“Mike,” you call out in a whisper but Mike just buries himself deeper into your neck, wanting to stay in bed. He was comfortable like this, tucked into you. You continued to play with his hair despite knowing this put him to sleep but you loved playing with his hair as much as he loved having his hair played with.

When you attempt to unwrap yourself from him he tightens his grip around you. “Mike,” you giggle, trying to move but he was holding you down.

“Mmm.” He responds, his eyes still shut. You continued with his hair and Mike couldn’t help but moan softly in pleasure, he really just wanted to stay in bed with you a little longer. Okay, lie—he wanted to stay like this, in your embrace, forever.

“We have to get up,” you say, no longer whispering—if you wanted him to rise you had to just as well stop playing with his soft hair. He whines the moment you remove your hands from his hair. “Come on, love.” You put more force and manage to get out of his grip, sitting up in bed.

“Baby, please just a little longer.” Mike mumbles, burying his face into the white feather pillow now—it wasn’t as comfortable as your neck. He feels you get up from the bed and this gives him his answer; you wouldn’t be staying in bed a little longer. He groans, furthering his face into the pillow and you giggle at his reaction—clearly he wasn’t having the best morning anymore.

“Don’t be fussy, love. We can’t stay in bed all day.” You say through a smile as you watch him get out of bed, a scowl on his face. He looks at you with such annoyed yet sleepy eyes it makes you laugh a little, his hair dishevelled from sleep and your hands probably. “Come on, Mikey, don’t be a baby.” You tease.

He sends you a death glare, but you can see the corner of his lips twitching up into a smile he refuses to show. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry, Mike!” You laugh, but you really don’t want to have to deal with his grumpy and sassy attitude the rest of the morning. “How do pancakes sound? My way of making it up to you.”

He doesn’t say anything but you don’t miss the way his eyes light up at the suggestion like a puppy hearing the word “treat”, but he wants to stay mad at you for waking him and forcing him away from your touch so he leaves to wash up with a huff, it doesn’t matter, you know you’ve won him over.

—

You’re startled by arms wrapping around your waist, you giggle when Mike kisses the back of your neck. “You’re not angry anymore?” Mike’s chest is pressed up against your back, small kisses being left behind on your neck and shoulders.

“I am,” he says after a kiss. You roll your eyes with a small smile he can’t see. You flip the last pancake ready to add it to the stack you’ve already made. “Just wanted to stay in bed with you a little longer.” He murmurs against your skin, you can feel his lips against your skin.

You turn off the stove, sliding the last dark chocolate chip pancake with the rest. You turn around to face your boyfriend, he has this dreamy look on his face, his hands on your sides now, pulling you closer against him with a tired smile on his lips. “I thought you wanted pancakes. I even added dark chocolate to them.” You meet his eyes adoring the way he stares into yours. He smiles when you mention the last bit, it made his heart flutter that you remembered such a mere detail about him, how much he favoured dark chocolate over any other kind of chocolate.

“I wanted to stay in bed with you.” He sounds so whiny, almost like a petulant child. You laugh a little, a frown appearing on his face when you do.

“Sorry, you’re just so adorable when you're grumpy,” your hands are behind his neck, playing with his soft curls, a smile curling onto his lips when your fingers tangled up in his hair.

Mike melts at your touch—literally because next thing you know he’s burying his face into your neck once again, his arms tight around you, consuming you whole with his embrace. “Forget about the pancakes…I want you.”

Your touch. Your hands in his hair. The softness of your body pressed up against his. His arms around you, pulling you closer and closer. Your legs entwined. He wants to be consumed by your touch. He wants to hide away in the crook of your neck.

In simpler words: he wants you.

He kisses your neck then, his hands still wrapped around you. They move down to your hips, up to your waist. “Let’s go back to bed,” he kisses your neck, you throw your head back a little, giving him more access to your neck. You knew this was his way of trying to manipulate you back to bed.

“Mm,” you moan, your hands still in his hair. You almost agree…you almost consider abandoning your meal and letting Mike get his way. Yet you come to your senses, pulling him back, your hands on either side of his face now. You gaze into his eyes, he wasn’t tired—he wanted to stay in bed with you. He just wanted to have you by his side with no space between the two. You see the sadness in his puppy eyes when you pull him away, damn this man knew how to get whatever he wanted.

You smile despite your loss, you couldn’t help it, his eyes were just so pretty even if he used them to get his way. “Breakfast first. We can do whatever you want after.”

This makes him smile—nope, grin! The cheeky motherfucker; whatever he had in mind was definitely not sleep.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt comfort #mike schmidt smut #five nights at freddy's #josh hutcherson fluff #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson #fnaf #fnaf movie

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atlabeth · 1 year ago

Text

i'm with you | nikolai lantsov

summary: everything is falling apart around you, but the world is quiet for a moment as you and nikolai share a sunrise together.

a/n: this is a lil sequel to bad luck! it takes place 3 years after at the beginning of siege and storm, after rusalye is killed and the darkling is mutinied off the volkvolny lol. idk where this came from but i really wanted to write something for nikolai because im done with finals and kept my 4.0 and he makes me happy! so i hope you enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 1.5k

warning(s): fem!reader, slight bit of angst, mentions of death and fighting, but this is very light hurt/comfort so nothing really bad goes on

“I should have known this is where I’d find you.”

Nikolai’s voice rang out from behind you, clear and strong in the silence of an early morning. Nothing but you, him, and the sea, the way it had been for nearly three years now.

You weren’t ready to lose it.

“I needed some time,” you said, gaze remaining on the horizon, sunrise on the brink. “A lot has been going on.”

“An understatement,” Nikolai said wryly. His footsteps could hardly be heard against the wood as he walked over to you, choosing to lean his back against the railing in opposition to you supporting yourself with your forearms. He didn’t look at you, but his presence was more than enough. “How have you been holding up?”

“Better than most can say,” you said. “Certainly better than our guests.”

He chuckled. “I believe the Sun Summoner has wished death on me more than once.”

“Have you seen the way her tracker looks at you?” you asked. “That man wants you dead.”

You could see his grin out of the corner of your eye. “A spirited pair, to be sure. I’m lucky they haven’t actually made an attempt.”

“As if I would let them get close,” you said wryly. “I take my duties as your second-in-command very seriously.”

This time, you felt his eyes on you. “A misfortune you’ve been only my second for these past few weeks.”

You sighed. The vast expanse of the sea, just beginning to glow with the light of the sunrise, seemed much lonelier.

The past month had been… difficult, to say the least. And certainly lonely.

The Darkling—General of the Second Army, Grisha of the greatest renown, and one side of the Ravkan civil war—had hired Nikolai’s crew to take him and his Grisha through the Bone Road in search of the mythical sea whip Rusalye. Nikolai decided to go along with it, but the plan he’d cooked up with you and the crew was something truly idiotic. If you all could pull it off, though, it would be the start of Ravka’s saving grace.

The general was not a generous man beyond the coin he put up. He practically took over the ship, ruminating with an imposing power everywhere he went. You supposed it wasn’t difficult to lead an army when you could intimidate your way through everything in your path.

And he recognized you. Looked you over in a way that made your skin crawl, greeted you by name, asked if your parents knew where you were. You resisted the urge to spit in his face—years of etiquette lessons worn into your bones were the only thing that kept a practiced smile on your lips.

He just wanted to get under your skin, try to unsettle you, maybe hoped he could reveal your truth to anyone who still might not have known to sow division in the crew. You lied to his face and all he did was chuckle and move on.

The Darkling left you alone from then on, but Nikolai refused to take any chances. He made the decision to hide your relationship, to hide any form of closeness beyond your being his second—”the last thing I need is you being targeted for any mistakes I make,” he’d said, and you had no objections.

The Darkling had unnerved you since the first time you’d met him as a teenager. The insanity that flickered in his eyes any time his hunt for the Sun Summoner was brought up—the insanity fully displayed when he finally had her in his grasp—was enough to make you keep your head down wherever and whenever possible.

That was not to say it wasn’t difficult, though. The first night you spent alone rather than in his cabin was difficult, and you’d wondered if the ship had truly always been this cold. Your finger felt bare without its ring, and you always worried the necklace would somehow slip into view. Your hands itched for your dagger each time the Darkling threatened Nikolai, and you were sure his calming words afterwards were the only thing keeping you from doing something truly foolish.

And now he was fully your enemy, Rusalye had been turned to fetters, and the Sun Summoner and her mystical tracker were below deck in a very shaky alliance.

Things were certainly never boring with Nikolai, at least.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when he said your name, and you finally looked over at him.

“Are you sure you’re alright, milaya?” he asked softly. “Tolya did patch up all your wounds, didn’t he?”

“Perfectly,” you confirmed with a nod. “It’s just…”

“Talk to me, my love.” Nikolai reached out and took your hand, the callouses from years spent as a privateer a comfort by now. “You know I’m here for you, more now than ever.”

Your gaze dropped down to your joined hands, and you let out a loose sigh. “We’re going back to Ravka,” you finally managed to say. “Back to the noble world.”

“It does feel strange,” he murmured. “After years on the sea, free from any expectations. Free from being a Lantsov.”

“Years away from my parents,” you said quietly. “They probably think I’m dead.” Your gaze flitted back up to meet his eyes, and you were struck by the warmth in them. “And I would have been, had it not been for you. Dead or much, much worse.”

“You can’t think like that,” he urged, pulling you closer. “You made your choice—we both have. And they brought us back together. That means they couldn’t have been wrong.”

“I left them, Nikolai.” Your chest tightened and you looked back out to the boundless waters. “Without a single word.”

“I did the same,” he said wryly. “You somehow managed to forgive me.”

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. “I’m just not the same girl I was when I left. I don’t want to be that girl—that duke’s daughter that smiles and curtsies her way through everything. I’m worried that they’ll try and push me right back into that box.”

Nikolai scoffed. “As if they could even try.”

In your silence, he gently tipped your chin so you could meet his eyes.

“You’re my second in command,” he said. “You’ve taken quicker to all of this than any member of any crew I’ve seen. And when you’re focused on something, you’re a sure sight to see. You’re not the girl that they raised—you’ve forged yourself into your own woman. If they have any sense at all, they’ll be the proudest parents in all of Ravka.”

“I hope so,” you admitted, “more than anything. All of this— learning to sail and command and fighting by your side— it’s made me feel more alive in a few years than a whole childhood in Ravka’s court.”

“And I consider myself immensely lucky that you somehow find enjoyment in all of this the same as I do,” Nikolai said with a slight laugh, taking his hand away from your chin. “Truly, I don’t know how I was fortunate enough to find you again after messing everything up once.”

Your lips quirked in a slight smile. “And I consider myself immensely lucky that you stayed in love with me after all that time.”

“The only thing easier than falling in love with you is staying in love with you,” Nikolai mused, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I could sail the Bone Road for a thousand years and that would never change.”

“That’s another reason I don’t want to go back to court,” you said, heat blooming in your cheeks. “You’ll charm every person you come across with those honeyed words.”

Nikolai smiled. “And yet I could only ever mean them for you.”

“I just don’t get how you’re still so confident,” you said. “We’re going back to Ravka in the midst of a civil war. The Darkling’s on our tail, and he won’t stop until he’s gotten his very bloody revenge.”

“But we’re going back together,” Nikolai clarified. “As far as I’m concerned, anything is possible so long as we’re together.”

“How are you always so sure of yourself?” you marveled.

He shrugged. “It’s very difficult not to believe in myself when I’ve got you by my side.”

“Saints,” you murmured, your smile growing, “I’ve missed you more than you know.”

Nikolai pulled you into a kiss and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips met yours, your hands falling into familiar places on his body as you all but fell into him. It had only been a few days since your successful mutiny against the Darkling, and open affection still felt slightly strange. Any remaining qualms were fully kissed out of you, though, and when you pulled away, out of breath but glowing from the inside out, you could hardly contain your smile.

“Trust me,” Nikolai breathed, “I know.”

You grinned as you leaned against his side, and he pulled you in close with an arm around you. You rested your head on his shoulder, and for a moment, the countless voices of doubt inside of you fell silent as you watched the sunrise together.

“We’ll figure it all out. I promise.” His voice was little more than a whisper in your ear, and yet it warmed your body just as much as his touch. “I’m with you until the end, milaya. No matter what.”

And you believed him.

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