#but she just wants to remain a human but its just so hard in the environment where sh eis

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober- Day 18 (Medical Play)

SCP-049 x Male!reader

"Now, now," said SCP‐049 calmly, raising a hand to wave vaguely at the array of tools. "Let us begin. First things first – tell me how you've been feeling recently?"

You snapped out of your trance. You were busy looking around the containment room. Right, you're here for a checkup. You've recently been feeling under the weather, which is concerning considering you're an Euclid class SCP. Even more ironic, your abilities pertain to human diseases and ailments, more specifically, spreading them on an unprecedented level yet remaining immune to them. So its not hard to see why the Foundation would be interested to know what exactly is infecting you.

"Ive been feeling strange.....melancholic" you say softly as you glance at his medical tools curiously. The doctor nods as his hand goes under his chin as if in thought. He motions for you to continue. You look through your memories. "I saw one of the assistants whispering to one of the researchers the other day. She laughed and I felt....left out"

The Plague doctor stops pondering as he internally facepalms. You're just lonely. He could cure this in his sleep.

SCP‐049 leaned against the table, his mask's beak pointing at you. "Ah yes, the Pestilence of loneliness," he mused. "A most insidious affliction indeed. But fear not," he purred, placing a gloved hand on your shoulder. "For I shall be your... cure."

Without warning, SCP‐049 pulled back suddenly, revealing a syringe in his gloved hand. Before you could react, he pressed it firmly against your neck and pressed down on the plunger, injecting you with an unknown substance. As he did so, he continued to speak in his smooth, almost hypnotic tone. "There now, that won't do. Let's see if this helps clear up those pesky blues."

He removes the syringe and starts cleaning up the spot where he injected you. Within minutes you start to feel a warmth traveling from your chest to your groin. You blush as you start to visibly tent up. You move your hands to cover your boner. The doctor huffs and shakes his head as he gently grabs your hands to pull them away. You groan but let him since you want this funk to end already, no matter what crazy ideas this loon has.

As SCP‐049 began examining you, his movements became increasingly sensual, his fingers tracing along your inner thighs and brushing against your growing erection. "Tell me, mon cher," he whispered behind his mask. "Have you ever considered... exploring your own desires? There's no shame in wanting pleasure, after all."

Your mind swirled with arousal as you tried to focus on answering him truthfully. Finally, you managed to stammer out a response. "I... I haven't really thought about it much."

He simply gives a hum in response before tugging at your pants. Your blush darkens but you let him, he's the professional after all....you think. The doctor pulls down your pants and underwear as he carefully folds them and places them on a chair besides the trolley holding the tools. You shiver as your bare ass touches the cold metal of the exam table. The doctor reaches over to the trolley and pulls it closer to the table. He picks up the clipboard.

With practiced ease, SCP‐049 spread your legs apart with his free hand, exposing your genitals to his gaze. He hummed appreciatively at the sight of your throbbing member, eager and throbbing. He tilted his head as he ran a finger lightly along the sensitive skin of your balls. You let out a soft sigh at the contact. Your cock flexes and twitches.

"Interesting..." he murmured, jotting down some notes on his clipboard. SCP‐049 moved closer to you, pressing the tip of his pen directly onto the slit of your penis. At the slight pressure, you let out a surprised whine, involuntarily thrusting your hips towards him. This elicited another low hum of approval from SCP‐049 as he went back to writing more notes.

He suddenly puts the clipboard onto the trolley. He picks up a thin metal rod and applies some lubricant to the end of it. You raise an eyebrow as you try to guess where its going. With deliberate slowness, he placed the lubed end of the rod against the slit of your penis. You sharply inhale as you wait, shaking with nerves.

"Relax, cherie," he crooned, running a gentle hand across your stomach. "This won't hurt...much."

Slowly, oh so slowly, SCP‐049 pushed the sounding rod into your urethra, making sure to apply just enough pressure to keep you aroused without causing pain. As he worked, he couldn't help but marvel at the way your body responded to each millimeter of intrusion – your breath coming faster, your cock growing harder, and your eyes widening in anticipation.

Finally, with a satisfied grunt, SCP‐049 reached the desired depth and held the rod steady, taking great satisfaction in hearing your whimpers. Placing a small clamp near the base of the rod, he secured it in place, ensuring that it wouldn't slide any further into your urethral tunnel. Satisfied with his work, he returned to his clipboard, scribbling furiously as he documented everything he observed.

You whimper as he takes his time. "Please....I need more" You moan out desperately. The doctor rolls his eyes and sighs. Being a doctor can be so demanding sometimes. He shakes his head as he lubricates his gloved hands liberally.

"Oh, very well," SCP‐049 sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically behind his mask. "It seems our dear patient requires additional stimulation." He presses his fingers against your puckered hole, inciting a soft moan from you.

With expert precision, SCP‐049 inserted two fingers past the tight ring of muscle guarding your entrance. He scissored them open once inside, stretching you wider. Each movement was accompanied by a keening cry from you, your voice hoarse with desire. Your hips buck and your cock bounces, causing the metal rod to slide a bit in and out.

"Subject exhibiting signs of extreme arousal. Penis fully erect, testicles drawn up close to body. Vocalizations indicate heightened state of excitement. Shall proceed with next phase of experiment"

As SCP‐049 spoke, he removed his fingers from your hole and replaced them with three – one middle finger sandwiched between two index fingers. Your body writhed helplessly on the table as you let out guttural moans.

SCP‐049 grabs hold of your shoulder for support, using it as leverage to drive his digits deeper still. His fingers move with a cruel rhythm, plundering your depths ruthlessly until you felt like nothing more than an empty vessel begging to be filled. You grasp the edge of the table for support as he abuses your prostate. The sounding rod bobbed maddeningly inside you, adding yet another layer of sensory input to fuel your impending climax. Already, you could feel the telltale stirrings deep within your core as your orgasm approached.

Desperate to reach release, you claw at SCP‐049's robe, searching for something solid to anchor yourself amidst the storm of pleasure. Without warning, he yanks the sounding rod out of your urethra in one swift motion, sending a geyser of hot semen shooting forth from your dick. It splatters across your torso and chin, leaving you utterly spent and trembling with post‐orgasmic bliss.

"Magnifique!" SCP‐049 declared triumphantly, moving back slightly to admire his handiwork. "But I fear our session has only just begun, ma cher. We have much more ground to cover if we are to rid you of your loneliness."

With that cryptic statement, he began to undo the fastenings of his robes.

This was going to be a long visit to the doctors.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

#scp foundation #scp 049 #scp x reader #scp 049 x reader #plague doctor #plague doctor x reader #scp fandom #medical kink #urethral sounding #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #scumtober 2023 #scumtober

[crymyeyesout1]

Little Mate

this is part three

Part one / Part Two

poly!marauders

Summary: The marauders are all in a poly relationship with each other and Lily when they all individually become interested in a shy hufflepuff in their year. What about this little hufflepuff makes them all feel complete? Will she return their affections?

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of smut, lots of fluff, very shy oc, mentions of child abuse, swearing, kind of a soulmate au but only really for Remus. let me know if there are any more

✩₊˚.⋆✩⋆⁺₊✩

As soon as Lily set her hand on the compartment door it slid open hard, Remus had almost taken the compartment door off its hinges but Moony didn’t care. His eyes immediately searched for his newest mate and found her curled up in James’ arms hiding her face in his chest trying desperately to make herself appear smaller so no one would notice her set on THE James Potter’s hip as if she were a small child. Moony melted at his tiny girl but he growled in annoyance that she was not in his arms. 

Swiftly taking her from James and cradling her in his own arms this time however acting as if she were an actual baby. Which of course she was, she was Moony’s mate therefore Remus’ baby girl.He rocked her gently as she let out a small whimper and again kept her eyes closed and pushed her face into his chest something inside her wanted to stay in this position forever. 

“Mate mine” Moony said in a deep voice and leaned down to press a soft kiss on the side of her forehead. The combination of his words and actions had Abigail confused and finally tore her face from the large boy’s chest. Dull and dark blue eyes met bright piercing yellow ones and let’s just say if Remus hadn’t been holding as tight as he was she would be on the floor with how harshly she jumped, having no idea human eyes could be that color. 

Sensing her stress Moony sat down bringing Abby’s small frame to straddle his lap and pushed her head into his shoulder and gently began to pet her hair. 

“My mate, My baby” he chanted before finally giving Remus control of the shared mindspace. Moony was far beyond content with his current situation, his mate was finally in his arms so he could relax. Light brown eyes replaced the bright yellow. 

“Hey baby, will you look at me?” he questioned his small mate that rested in his lap. She did as she was asked and was just brought more confusion when their eyes met once again.

“y-your eyes they they changed colors” she stated softly, a swirling mix of anxiety, embarrassment and confusion flooded her mind. 

“Yeah they do that sometimes, little mate, but it’s okay you're here with me now and no one will ever hurt you,” He replied trying to ease the anxiety that was coming off of her in waves. 

“M-mate?” Abby asked, struggling to get out of the grip he had on her waist. Was this just another man trying to control her life? Was he just like her uncle? Did he want exactly what her uncle wanted, Abby shivered at the thought, she didn’t think she could handle more of that.

“Yes little one, all of us are Remus’ mates” Lily interjected in an attempt to calm the growingly distressed girl. 

“I-I don’t understand, l-let me go!” Abby pleaded with the four others in the compartment. But the grip on her waist remained firm even as Remus took one hand off and pulled it up to her chin forcing her to look into his eyes once more.

“I would rather not tell you this but it's better for you to know now rather than later. Little mate, I am a werewolf, and werewolves all have mates, usually just one of two but in our case I have four, you baby are my last mate.” Remus explained mentally preparing himself for your inevitable rejection. He expected you to be angry, to yell, to cry, but what he most certainly did not expect was for her to just keep staring at him and just responding with a small “oh” as realization dawned.

“That’s why you're all y’know?” She asked, looking at all of them.

“Together? Yes” Lily responded as Sirius responded as well “Fucking? Yes” 

“Sirius stop it”

“What? She is more than welcome to join!” 

“You're embarrassing her!” Lily and Sirius argued. As Abby’s cheeks just continued to get more and more red. All eyes were on her as she let out the smallest of whimpers at the yelling. It always brought back memories of  her at home with her uncle, where all of his time went yelling and screaming at her along with other things she had forbidden herself to speak about.

“Stop arguing you are scaring my baby” James yelled at his loves. Just causing Abby to hide herself in Remus’ chest once again but this time strictly to hide the tears forming in her eyes, unable to stop them from flowing down her cheeks. 

“Enough!” Remus hissed at his mates “She’s crying” Sirius sprang to his feet and pulled your face from Remus carefully cradling it in his palms. His ring clad fingers leaving a cold sensation of your warm cheeks as his soft thumbs brushed the tears from them.

“Baby doll” he huffed sadly “s’it the yelling?” only receiving a nod in return as you tried to pull your face from his large hands.

“Don’t like it” she mumbled, not really wanting to admit that she was scared of something as silly as yelling to Sirius freaking Black.

“Shh that's okay, now we know not to yell” He reassured her softly, but his attention caught on her full pouty lips. 

“Just wanna try something and If you don’t like it you tell me alright?” He asked and you hummed in agreement, all of your attention now on him as he softly pressed their lips together. Abby froze, Sirius Black was kissing her in front of all his partners. Sensing her obvious discomfort Remus whispered “s’its okay” in her ear allowing her to melt into the kiss. Sirius’ lips were soft against hers but the kiss was firm as he deepened it, his tongue swiping against her bottom lip in a silent question for access. Abby did not grant it though , she had no idea she was supposed to though having never kissed anyone before. Sirius took this as a challenge and slightly nipped her bottom lip with his teeth eliciting a gasp from the small girl. Taking this opportunity Sirius slipped his tongue inside her mouth and began to explore only to be pulled away by a hand in his hair tugging him back, he knew it was Remus by the size of it and that only he or Lily would do that.

Remus didn’t know whether to be annoyed or turned on by the sight directly in front of his face. Annoyed because Sirius should have known that he wanted to be Abby’s first kiss, and turned on because for fucks sake two of his mates were making out literally right in front of his face. He cleared his throat as he pulled Sirius from his smaller mate, any more watching this and he would be able to control the blood rushing south. He didn’t want Abby to have to feel that as he knew by her words and actions that she was inexperienced and knew that his raging hard cock pressing against your clothed core would be too overwhelming.

“Remmy, come onnn!” The black haired boy complained to his boyfriend.

“No that’s enough, see she’s tired” Remus responded but it was weird Abby didn’t feel tired but almost as if on cue she yawned. 

“Lily and I have to attend the prefects meeting as well” He told the group then turned to Abby and told her “You just rest little mate we’ll be back when you wake” as he pressed a loving kiss to her hairline and passed you to James and Lily repeated his actions and told the three of you to “be good” but Abby could tell it was more directed at the boys than it was her. She yawned again and fell into a nice nap and James began to rub her back gently.

Tag List (let me know if you want to be added): @chockymilksworld @thoughtfulpandamentality @sydneyle @persephonesalvatore @hcqwxrtss123 @hermionelove @liv2post @fanficlover03 @kxnnxy @noodlesareokah

#poly!marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #sirius and remus #lily evans #james potter #jily

[storydays]

Hazbin Hotel: Episode 1 p1

Overture

@avatar_lover

(3rd POV)

"Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil. Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. 

For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world. So he watched as  the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Adam demanded control and Lilith refused. 

Drawn in by her fierce independence, Lucifer found her and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Adam’s new bride, Eve, who gladly accepted.

But this gift came with a curse.

For with this single gift, evil finally found its way to Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin, and the order Heaven worked hard to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he created, never allowing him to see the good that came from Humanity, only the cruel and the wicked. 

Ashamed, Lucifer lost his will to dream. 

But Lilith thrived, empowering a demon-kind with her voice and her songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision, that every year, they would send down an army: an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. 

But Lilth’s hope remained. And her dream was passed down to their precious children, the Prince and Princess of Hell.”

A pale hand closed the story book, as a young woman held a key close to her, looking downcast. “Don’t worry Mom, I’ll make you proud.” She whispered, gazing out the window, listening to the screams outside. 

“Charlie?” a voice called startling the young woman. “Augh!” she yelped, as her key turned into a cat, who ran away to hide. Charlie winced before turning to the other woman, “Vaggie! Did you hear all that?” she asked. 

“Uh, yeah. I was standing right there.” smiled the woman, pointing at the door. “Sorry, I get pretty worked up after an extermination happens. The story helps.” Charlie frowned, staring at the book. “I know, don’t worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?” Vaggie asked, sitting next to the blonde demoness. “I’m fine, just–ya know thinking about family stuff.” “DId you hear your from your mom yet?” Charlie shook her head sadly. 

“Oof, how long has it been now?” 

“Not that long…only…..seven….years. Off doing something important, I’m sure.” Together the women stood up, to look outside the window. “But this kingdom was something she really cared about; something I care about.” Charlie hugged herself, smiling wistfully. 

“Well, at least you’re not alone.” Vaggie soothed, holding Charlie’s hands.”I just hope that what I’m trying to do here will work.” Charlie admitted. “It will. I have faith in you.” the white haired woman smiled, cupping Charlie’s cheek. 

“All right, come on. Alastor says he’s got something he wants to show us.” Vaggie walked out of the room, Charlie going to follow her, before hearing the church bell ring outside. She turned to look out at the clock as it rang, signaling the end of the extermination. Charlie sighed before heading downstairs. 

*Downstairs*

“Well, hello there, you wayward sinner!” A cheery voice, on the television, called out to a demon currently stabbing another on the street, making the two look around confusedly. “Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do, that’s why you’re in Hell! But what would you say if there was a place that had none of that?” questioned the voice as more sinners popped up, varying emotions from annoyance to confusion. The camera then zoomed to reveal the hotel.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! A misguided path to redemption!” the camera then pushed into Charlie’s personal space as she was mid conversation, before she noticed the camera and she smiled and waved nervously. A spider demon appeared behind her, using all four of his hands to give the demoness bunny ears behind her head and on the side. “Founded 5 days ago by Lucifer’s delusional daughter, Charlotte Morningstar! Come place your faith in her inexperienced hands as she tries to work through her daddy issues by fixing you!” 

The television showed a picture of Lucifer facing away from Charile as she hugged herself, tears in her eyes. Then it showed Charlie attempting to convince sinners to join. 

“Here we offer fun things! Such as somewhat functional staff.” The camera showed a grumpy cat demon who was clearly drunk as he face planted into the bar. A little cyclops woman scurried around him, chasing a bug with a giant needle in her arm, with a maniacal grin on her face, as she attempted to stab the bug.

“24 hour pest control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor!” The camera panned out to show a piece of wood falling near the spider demon from earlier who was lounging on a couch, clearly bored as he examined his finger nails.  “Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident.”

The spider sent the camera a middle finger, making an effect of the word Wow appear on screen, changing to show a crudely drawing of the hotel with different notes and smiley faces with a large toothy grin. “Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel. Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!” On the screen, appeared: “Call now or don’t! I don’t care! We still don’t have a working phone!” 

The TV shut off as the audience in the room sat around, emotions varying from anger, shock, and disbelief. “So, what’d ya think?”asked a grinning deer demon, dressed head to toe in red and black. 

“I’m sorry, what the FUCK was that?” scowled Vaggie, arms crossed. “Uh, yeah, one note. Alastor…” Charlie started, ignoring how the demon’s smile tightened. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously, amazing, but um..” Charlie played with her fingers as she tried to explain her thoughts, “The tone was maybe a bit..off?” Alastor tilted his head as she continued. 

“We want people to WANT to come here. This makes it look–um..” “Bad. The word you’re looking for is bad.” Vaggie snarled, crossing her arms. 

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor laughed. “It didn’t explain anything about how we’re trying to save demons, which is the whole fucking point!” 

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to save them.” called a smooth voice from another armchair. The male was sitting on the chair, his legs over the arm of the chair, and the cat from earlier purring in his arms, as he stroked her back. This was the Prince of Hell, Heir to the Throne, and Charlie’s big brother, (Y/N).

“Well, my dear (Y/N), I haven’t been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show. The proper way to express oneself!” Alastor turned to the TV with a clear disdain written over his ever grinning face.

“But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement. So I had a little fun with it.” “Oh fun, you had a little fun?” Vaggie snapped, before standing. “Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here, a week ago, you told us you would help run this hotel. Instead, you’re mocking us. Nobody’s going to want to come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.” Vaggie hissed before the 4 noticed a red hand waving in the air. 

“What?” snapped Vaggie as (Y/N) started to walk towards the bar. 

“If’n you’re filimin’ a commercial, can I suggest you take advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” The spider demon from earlier, sat up lazily, grabbing the bottle of alcohol with him, and winked at the people, gesturing to himself. 

“Angel, you’re a porn star.” Vaggie deadpanned.

“A famous porn star.” Corrected Angel, as (Y/N) came back and sat next to the spider, with a strawberry Daiquiri in his hand. 

“I’ll have the horniest sinners knockin’ down these walls to get in.” The white furred spider grinned smugly, before swinging his legs over (Y/N)’s lap, clearly comfortable. “We are not shooting a porn as a commerical.” Vaggie said firmly. 

“Why not? Sex sells, don’t it?” Angel winked. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Sexy Princey or Mr FancyTalk Creep Voice here, you’d be rollin’ in participants to stay at this tacky hotel.”. Alastor laughed loudly before deadpanning. “Haha! Never going to happen.”

The bespectacled prince cleared his throat nervously, cheeks a slight red as he tried to compose himself. “A-Angel, we appreciate you wanting to use your ‘special skills’ to, um, attract folks to the hotel. But I–WE, meant to say WE don’t want to exploit you in that way.” 

(Y/N) smiled at the spider demon who grinned, leaning into the prince’s space, close to his ear, and purred, “But what if I want you to exploit me……..Daddy?” “HAHA! OKAY!”

(Y/N) yelped, before using his wings to quickly fly up and over by the bar, startling Angel who then smirked knowingly at the demon. 

Turning towards the girls, Angel continued to talk, “This body was made to be exploited, baby. I’ve got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity. Oh, oh! I have the legs, the gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff everyone thinks are tits..”  Charlie laughed uncomfortably as Angel continued talking.

(Y/N)’s phone started ringing, making the prince roll his eyes and walk away, answering his phone. “I’ll be right back.” 

He turned the corner, and grinned deviously as he answered the phone, “What up, bitch!”

*Back with the others*

“Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can’t he just make people stay here?” Angel asked suddenly, pointing at Alastor.

“Oh trust me, I can.” Alastor grinned darkly, briefly showing his horns.

“Why do you think I’m here?” A gruff voice called from the bar, making everyone turn to the bar, towards the grumpy cat from earlier. 

“You think I’d be cleaning bottles and listen to you fucks’ bitch and moan, if he wasn’t forcing me.” The bartender hissed as the little cyclops appeared next to him, grinning. 

“I like being forced.” She giggled. 

“Keep that to yourself, Niff.” grimaced the cat demon. 

“What, you don’t love being here with me, Whiskers?” Angel mocked, making a kissy face. 

“Call me whiskers again, and I’ll jam that bottle down your throat.” the cat threatened.

“Kinky! C’mon, keep talking dirty.” grinned Angel, narrowing his eyes at the cat.

“Angel, let Husk do his job. And no, we can’t force people to stay here; they need to choose to.” Vaggie stated. 

“I’m choosing to be here, and I think it’s all stupid. We’re in Hell, toots.” Angel shrugged, “That’s kind of the end of the line, ain’t it?”

“Well, maybe it doesn’t have to be.” Charlie smiled. “Just because no one’s ever made it out, doesn’t mean it’s not possible.”

Angel placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder as he leaned down to her height. “Hey, whatever means I can keep crashing here rent free.” The women shot him a deadpanned look, and he scowled. “Crack is expensive.”

(Y/N) quickly came and grabbed Charlie by the arm, grinning excitedly. “Char, come with me!” Charlie yelped as her brother pulled her around the corner. 

“Woah, (Y/N), what’s going on?”

“So the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet…and I managed to convince Dad to let me send you to talk to them instead.”

Charlie tilted her head. “Why me? You usually take care of stuff like that.”

“Because, Char, you are the princess of Hell,and I think you’re old enough to start partaking in stuff like this. And.. you can use this as an opportunity to try to convince Heaven to give your Hotel a chance. “ (Y/N) prompted. 

“Ooh! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Charlie hugged her brother before rushing to tell Vaggie. (Y/N) going to lean on the couch, as Vaggie questioned Charlie. “But the extermination just happened. What could they want this soon after?” 

Charlie started singing and twirled Vaggie who replied dizzily, “Okay but just don’t sing to them.”

“That bitch is half way down the street.” (Y/N) and Angel laughed, with the others looking out the door, watching the princess sing. 

“Is she–?” Vaggie asked, worriedly.

“Oh, she’s dancin’.” Angel tossed his head back, drinking the bottle in his hands, ignoring Vaggie’s groan.

#Spotify #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #viziepop #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #hazbin charlie #hazbin husk #hazbin vaggie #hazbin niffty

[unfriedough]

hiii! first of all just wanna say how much i love your writing <3

could i please request a zuko x lightningbender!reader scenario/hc where the reader is a part of the gaang and she used to be best friends with zuko when they were little? and then he joins and they finally catch up after everything? thank you!

‘This doesn't change anything,’- Zuko x female!reader

Masterlist <3

An: yeah i wrote this MANY times before i was happy with it, which is why it took ages IM SO SORRY also THANK YOU <333

Summary:

LIghtning bender reader who is Zuko's former BFF now kinda hates him but he's determined to get on her good side.

Warnings: opening up, insulting eachother.

honestly 

It was so awkward

You refused to speak to him if it wasn’t strictly professional

The poor boy tried so hard

When he pleased katara but not u he was so sad

He would try to sit next to you by the campfire to eat and you would just dip

He’d have that sad 🙁 look on his face and the gang would be like “it’s okay man.”

ITS NOT OKAY!!! He couldn’t sleep because he missed u so much and seeing u in person was like, taking a toll on him

He was so entranced by you and your little mannerisms. You’d grown so much and gotten cuter since he last saw you (which he didn’t even think was possible). He especially loved when you played with lighting in your fingers

It was like, when someone else did it it was evil and dangerous, but when you did it it was lovely and cozy 

You just had that effect on him

The first time you two were able to speak was when you had taken the reigns on Appa to allow the others to rest. He was stargazing when your voice broke him out of a trance.

“You’re a real pain, you know that Zuko?”

He sat up suddenly, looking at you from his spot. You were leaning back, yawning as you stretched on the mammals fur.

“I mean, you come here, barge into this little group, and expect me to be nice to you. Fire nation royals and their audacity.” You said matter-of-factly, your tone so relaxed, completely going against what you were saying.

“I don’t expect that. I just want you to hear me out.”

“I’ve heard you enough,” he recalled moments where he’d rant for hours on hours to you, and you would lend an unwavering open ear, and inviting open arms.

“Yeah,” he replied sadly, sliding down next to you. You scooted over.

“And what if I pushed you?” 

“You wouldn’t,”

“Or would I?” You smirked, “but this time instead of a face full of pool water, you’ll pop like a balloon,” the shrubs reminded you of spikes.

“I’m not sure that’s how human bodies work,” he mumbled playfully.

“Oh what? Just because you went to private school?”

“Yn we went to the same school,” you opened your mouth, before shrugging as you couldn’t think of a response.

He rolled his eyes with a smirk, they landed back on you.

You shivered slightly, you were pretty good at your fire bending, but lacked when it came to warmth. Though you can expel a mean red flame, you can’t regulate your body temperature quite right. Smoothly, he put an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Keeping you warm,” Zuko replied, an intense look on his eyes, contrasting the sweet smile playing on his lips. 

“Smooth,” you grinned, your brain going fuzzy, then immediatly frowned. “This doesn’t change anything between us.”

He slumped a fraction, almost missable, but you caught it. The fire bender nodded.

He rested his head back on the fur, looking distantly into the stars. From your angle, Zuko’s jaw was sharp, and his side profile was alluring. You couldn’t help but rest your head on him. Contradicting your previous statement- there was something so entrancing about him. Feeling your stare, he met your eyes, a certain- almost unreadable- look behind his irises.

“Then what would?” He asked quietly.

You paused, thinking for a second. “I don’t know,”

He sighed defeatedly, throwing his head back again. “Understandable,” 

You remained silent as a response. He clicked his tongue.

“Do you remember,” Zuko paused, as if trying to find the words. “Do you remember love amongst dragons?” 

You grinned, “As if I could forget. Lady Ursa took us every time,” you giggled.

You enjoyed the play and all it’s weird quirks, Zuko however, did not. He would complain, and complain, and complain until you'd shushed him harshly when the main characters would share their kiss. He found you annoying, in a weird, endearing way.

He scrunched his nose, “it wasn’t even a good play,”

“Just say you hate love,” 

‘Well then I’d be lying,’ he thought.

“I don’t hate love,”

“Oh sorry hate is a strong word. Despise?”

He snorted, “Not that either,”

“Huh. That would mean the spoiled prince actually loved love.”

“Maybe not love. Mildly enjoy.”

“Isn’t that literally the same thing?”

“Depends, I love fruit tarts, I mildly enjoy fire flakes.”

“Hmm.” You pondered, “I love Appa,” you grinned down at the beast, then back up to Zuko, “I mildly enjoy your company.”

A pink dust rose to his cheeks, that sweet smile from earlier returning to grip onto your heart strings, “I’ll take it.” He said quietly.

“I wonder if they still show the play,” you hummed.

“Well, we’ll find out soon enough,” you were on course to the esteemed ember island estate, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited.

“Well then I wonder if they changed the casting,”

“I doubt anyone would wanna partake in that, the ember island players literally suck so bad,”

“Oh c’mon, didn’t you cry that one time when the characters reunited?”

The boy looked like a deer caught in headlights, he was secretly hoping you’d forgotten about it, “It was a sad moment,” he pouted.

You leaned forward and pinched his cheeks, “Sure it was, wittle zuko can’t handle a little sap,” you giggled.

He swatted your hand away, “you’re a bully,” he scoffed.

“Guess that makes the two of us,” you sighed out.

basically, that was what finally made you two start talking

No, the gang didn’t know, you refused to treat him like a human when they were awake. But you softened up when they were asleep.

Zuko will admit he found it odd, but hey, talking in secret is better than no talking right?

He seemed lighter and more open when he started catching up and reliving childhoods with you

It felt like you were finally letting him into your concrete house, despite him having to force his way in at the beginning.

You were surprised when he opened up to you about things he never has with others, fond memories of his mother, even sometimes with his sister or father. 

Despite your hatred for him, you couldn’t help but find yourself entranced by the way he spoke. His voice had a certain lull in it, a rasp accenting his words, the same words he struggled to find.

You yourself found it was easier to speak to him than some others, on nights where you both sat vulnerable, only protection being each other's promises.

You confessed to having a small crush on him as kids, shocked to find it used to be reciprocated. 

You reminisced on times where you’d tease Zuko, and the times he’d finally stand up for himself against you

When the moon was highest in the sky, the secrets and such came further to light. He admitted he still felt like a bad guy in the end of the day, in his younger days, Zuko had never been the good guy.

You assured him people change, like the tides, like the weather, like the seasons. 

(You refrained from mentioning his hair, it seemed like an inappropriate time to make fun of him)

He expressed to you times where he had travelled with his uncle, all their journeys and detours, and you did the same with your gang trips and adventures.

From the little things like Sokka being covered in Appa’s snot, to larger things like injuries and nightmares

Slowly, you turned from two people who tolerate each-other, to two people who actually really love each other.

Of course, NEVER EVER EVER would you admit that, but it was true.

The unfortunate time for the battle came, you took the road with Sokka, Toph and Suki. Assisting them with your lightning wad no easy task, it was exhausting and exhilarating all at the same time. Usually, you’d limit yourself to 3-4 shots a day, by the 10th minute, you were on 12. Your body was shaking and weak, but you pushed on, even though you knew your life was on the line.

After the long and tedious battle with all those soldiers, the sky turned blue, and you knew it was over, you had won the war.

You stumbled to the group, Sokka’s leg was hurt pretty bad and you didn’t want to take the attention off of him. Each step felt like your body was ablaze, and you held back noises of discomfort.

When you’d finally reached the gang, and exchanged hugs with everyone else, you stopped at Zuko. Mumbled, “I still hate you,” and then engulfed him in a hug so tight - you didn’t even know you were capable of it. 

Everyone else was in shock at the sight, they were sure you hated him, but oh well, it’s better than hearing you complain again.

While they conversed, you felt yourself begin to lose consciousness.

You rested your head against him, loosening your grip and your vision went dark.

You were out for about 5 minutes before you regained consciousness. You were still in the same position, except by this time, everyone was looking at you concerned. Katara placed her palm on your forehead.

“I’m ok. Just tired.” You mumbled quietly.

You were suddenly aware of how close you were to the fire bender, immediately moving back and laughing nervously. Almost falling if not for Toph pushing you back to your feet.

You could see him deflate slightly.

“Thanks Zuko,” you punctuated it with a forced laugh.

“Yeah it’s cool,” he nodded, frowning.

As you all walked back to Appa, you found that you and him fell behind the group, walking at nearly the same pace.

“How much lightning did you use?”

“Do you think I was getting burned alive and counting?”

He chuckled, “I guess not, but you seem tired,”

“Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out,”

He smiled at you, nearing to try to assist you in walking. You quickly put a hand up, smiling at him and his cute little frowny face. He tilted his head to the side. 

You slipped your hand into his, immediately feeling his body temperature get knocked up a few notches.

After a few more steps, you looked over to Appa as they climbed. Just as no one was looking, you walked up to him, and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

Then took a few steps towards the beast.

“Zuko,” he looked at you from his spot, still dazed, “this still doesn’t change anything between us.”

All the fire bender could do was laugh.

An: HI if u requested im starting soon hopefully <3

#zuko x reader #zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko #atla #avatar the last airbender #fluff #zuko fluff #zuko x you #atla zuko #zuko fanfic #zuko fic #zuko x f!reader #avatar zuko #zuko atla #zuko x y/n #atla x reader #zuko hc #zuko h/c #zuko headcanon #headcanon #headcanons #zuko angst #zuko atla angst

[dduane]

Judging books by their covers

Having spent the morning reading the notes on this post (and reading them, and reading them...), I realized I really needed to get to grips with a piece of work I'd been avoiding.

Some of you may remember me mentioning that the Young Wizards website's longtime ISP went out of business suddenly in July, necessitating the site's hasty relocation to a new home. In the process a lot of its internal URLs ceased to operate correctly, meaning that files weren't displaying. (As I was quickly reminded when looking for the original David Wiesner art for So You Want To Be A Wizard at 01:30 last night.)

Anyway, I just wound up spending the day rescanning book covers for the Young Wizards publication history page, and was reminded of some favorites while getting the work done. (And a note for the interested: if there's any particular cover from an English-language edition of the YW books that interests you, or you think the sight of one might jog your memory somehow, that page is where you'll find the images. Use the tabs under the header image to take you through the history of publishers and artists.)

Meanwhile, being reminded of what happened to the covers for So You Want To... alone is both funny and a bit sobering. Styles change, formats change, art directors change. Sometimes the covers get a lot better, and sometimes they, uh, don't. Look at the difference in styles alone among these, for example.

Most of the time the writer gets to take what they're given, and like it. Sometimes, though, they get to give advice.

Here, for example, is one time that happened.

This is for the UK hardcover of the first of the Feline Wizards books. The artist, Mick Posen, is a cat person... and he insisted on having pictures of the cats who inspired the NY worldgating team before he started painting. Just look at these three, especially Rhiow there in the foreground. Is this a hero, or what? :)

Here's one that caused a little controversy.

The question of the day: Is Nita wearing anything? And if so, what?

The art won Greg Swearingen a silver Spectrum Award for that Deep Wizardry painting. But he and my then-editor on the series, Michael Stearns, apparently got into it a little regarding a conflict between the text and the necessities of painting a YA cover. If I remember correctly, I think Greg was holding out for "She's not wearing anything in the text in this situation, she just turned human again after changing back from being a whale, she shouldn't be wearing anything here!" and Michael was saying "But the parents, what if we freak out the parents...!" ...Eventually it seems like some kind of compromise was achieved. Swirly light = magic, or something. (shrug) Not my problem. It's a lovely cover.

About this one I have, well, mixed feelings. At this end of time, the art looks clunky. Yet this is also my first bestseller. When the SF Book Club published this omnibus, Support Your Local Wizard quickly set records as their single most-requested item of all time for new members just signing up. Its print run ran to more than 250,000 copies, and it remained constantly in print until the Book Club itself ended.

I've always been fond of this one for Deep Wizardry, and also of the one the artist, Neal McPheeters, did for the Dell Yearling and Dell mass market paperback editions of So You Want To... . There's a solid quality to both of them, but the second one in particular, that appeals to me.

(For those in the notes on that other post who reacted immediately to Kit's antenna: This is one of the reasons why it features—along with one of Nita's wands from the rowan tree Liused—on all the covers of the revised/updated Young Wizards New Millennium Editions. I've seen a lot of memories jogged by its appearance.)

...Do I have a favorite favorite one of all these covers? As usual, it's hard to pick. But I have to admit that I smile, at the moment, when looking at this one—Greg Swearingen’s art again—since in a couple of weeks it'll be the fortieth anniversary of So You Want To Be A Wizard's publication.

We'll see what the publisher does for the fiftieth. :)

#Young Wizards #Young Wizards series #covers

[sugar-grigri]

Let's make the revolution, but let's make it right s’il vous plaît…

Yes I need to take a break but I'm not only tired but I'm fucking autistic so let me say two quick words

I think Haruka is a character worth exploring, and that he's deeper than the comic relief he seems to be, because I think he's a very good representation of adolescence.

Yoshida doesn't live his adolescence as a public hunter, Asa almost rejects the experiences because of her social isolation and emotional problems, which implies that they are teenagers but want to carry the weight of suffering like adults.

And what is Haruka? The perfect example of the mix between childhood and coming-of-age.

Denji is unable to experience adolescence because he has been deprived of his childhood, or even his humanity, and his interactions lead inexorably to rejection and suffering.

Haruka, on the other hand, is a useful standard by which to compare the other characters' failings in exploring their own adolescence.

Haruka is portrayed as arrogant, but not as negatively pretentious, but as an over-confident teenager, following a role model to the point of pretending to be him, of having a false cable across his chest.

He's also hard on the others, representing those teenagers who never minced their words when pressing Asa's failures, just as he remains deeply human, panicking, relying on his role model to save him.

Above all, his typical teenage behavior and funny yet profoundly candid personality are at odds with what adolescence is all about: realizing the world we live in.

If Chainsaw Man is so popular with teenagers, it's first and foremost because he remains anonymous, so everyone can see what they want in his face, but he's also an element of confrontation with the established order.

When I say that Chainsaw Man is a fairly mathematical manga, it's because everything fits together perfectly: if teenagers can make Chainsaw Man an object of protest, or even make it their own design, it's precisely because they don't see Denji behind Chainsaw Man.

If everything finds its balance, it's because the teenagers see in Chainsaw Man something superior, to the point of making him a model, an ideology, while Denji, the boy behind the mask, puts himself in the position of standing outside normality.

Denji can't belong to normality, since Chainsaw Man's interest is in disrupting the established order, whether it's the dominance of demons or what parents think.

So he's in a position of literal support, since his only point of interaction is to be acclaimed without being recognized.

It's interesting that Haruka's here, because he's a Chainsaw Man fan.

Denji has been a figure in the shadows, supporting a teenager in need of guidance in spite of himself.

He was the savior of a humanity prey to demons in spite of himself

But from a more symbolic point of view, Denji is literally dismembered, because carrying this on his shoulders as a teenager, even though his rank is denied, leads not only to exhaustion and withdrawal, but also to a literal breakdown.

It's as if the chair has just cracked... then the adolescence that stood over it also collapses...

People love Denji with difficulty, while he loves them with ease

People adore Chainsaw Man and completely ignore Denji's plight

Teenagers need to see Denji, to see his state of dismemberment, to see every last part of his being instrumentalized.

Because that's what he is, an image from which everyone can pick and choose to see what's missing.

That's why Asa has a missing arm, because she's in the position of a savior who doesn't wallow in her lack and compensate for it with Chainsaw Man, but focuses on the mission of putting him back together.

We repeat: the teenagers have projected themselves into Chainsaw Man as a means of fighting against the established order.

But isn't projecting oneself and being saved by Chainsaw Man precisely what the established order is all about?

Wouldn't it be revolutionary to save a savior who has always asked to be saved? Just as the suffering of the people has been ignored has needed saving

Revolution... represented by what?

Guillotine.

And that's precisely where I find it all interesting, because Haruka effectively compensates with Chainsaw Man in everything he lacks, when he was portrayed completely panicked during the aquarium arc, Denji was serene. Haruka may have a cable on his chest, but he'll never dare pull it.

This absence of fear is what keeps Chainsaw Man a machine. Denji has no self-worth, not a little arrogance like Haruka, so he's not afraid of danger. Whereas what constitutes adolescence is precisely the fact of becoming attached, of having things you value and are not afraid of being deprived of.

Above all, being an adolescent gives you a protective status, protected by society. So Haruka experiences what Denji experienced: being deprived. Deprived of what he holds dear. Deprived of his status as a child protected to be a terrorist. Haruka is a teenager who needs to be protected, but is now seen as a terrorist, a threat to order.

To be a threat to the established order, while at the same time being guaranteed by it, is the exact ambivalence of what Chainsaw Man is, and what Haruka is experiencing, being in the shoes of his savior in an attempt to save him.

The guillotine demon has an interesting design, a huge bird as a kind of almost inanimate ornament, to emphasize its interior, a piece of skeleton hanging headless. How does it feel to be close to decapitation? We suffer in anticipation of what we're going to miss: our head, death, the skeleton, and what we're going to leave the world, a body that's missing something.

Just as others must learn to compensate for their own insecurities, Denji must allow himself to feel his own, and instead of accepting suffering, to compensate for it like a human being with his nearest and dearest, his entourage, his family.

Because the right behavior is not to artificially complete oneself by rejecting one's fear and accepting one's suffering, but to accept one's incompleteness in order to be better influenced and completed by others. That's why Denji's loved ones are there to help him, even though he's been cut into pieces. Just as the teenagers saw in Fami, whom they reject, this guillotine, both reversing the order and focusing on what they lack, poor children in identity crisis.

We're in a bit of a pre-French Revolution mood, which I like, so let's embrace it completely by concluding with a quote from one of France's bloodiest revolutionaries, Robespierre:

"First of all, you should know that I am not the defender of the people; I have never claimed that lavish title; I am one of the people, that's all I've ever been, and that's all I want to be; I despise anyone who pretends to be anything more."

To make a revolution not to overthrow the order, but to be a simple, incomplete, imperfect teenager.

#csm spoilers #chainsaw man #csm #csm part 2 #csm 158 #denji hayakawa #denji #haruka #haruka iseumi #haruka isumi #asa mitaka #fami #nayuta hayakawa #yoru #yoshida #my thoughts #pure analysis #and no theory this time #it feels good!!!!

[k1nky-r0b0t-g1rl-wr1t1ng]

Badly Damaged

Wrote a lil short story based on a post i made the other day, enjoy.

CAS3 slowly trudges towards the dimly lit warehouse, her limp becoming ever more obvious the closer she gets. Her servos and joints whining loudly as her damaged body barely manages to keep itself upright. She approaches the dark alleyway, her shattered leg scraping along the hard concrete, her visor solely focused on the sparsely lit doorway inching closer. It can feel its systems slowly shutting down, one by one losing power, her core must’ve been ruptured, she’s lucky she made it this far. More systems go offline, she's cascading now, not long left. She wonders if this’ll be it, if no one’s inside, it almost certainly will be, a cold smile crosses her face. Maybe this time.

“Sam!”

Its voice escapes her throat, distorted and mangled, not surprising considering her current state.

“Vic!” 

Another distorted name slips by her lips, unsure if it even wants a reply. Her vision starts to shut down, the sensors behind its visor losing power, its one good leg drops out from under it, her sundered body slams against the cold floor in the doorway, the last thing she sees is the bright interior lights of the workshop as her damaged core finally gives out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Initialising emergency boot protocol 

Booting safe mode

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cold spark of life burns through CAS3’s body, sparking and surging through what remains of her systems and subsystems. The coarse energy of life pushes into every corner of her being, forcing its processors to engage, the bitter taste of consciousness forming in her artificial mouth. 

Her visor flickers on, CAS3 sullenly scans its surroundings unable to move its limbs, the consequences of being booted in safe mode. Laid out on a workbench, she is able to see the extent of the damage to her chassis for the first time. Her right foot completely shorn off, the connected metal ground down from dragging it so far. Her left arm missing from the elbow down, only a mass of wires and gnarled metal remains. Its entire body covered in slashed open jagged wounds, its metal twisted and malformed. A large hole sits covering most of her left breast plate, distorting metal through her entire chassis, probably what caused her core to rupture.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU.” 

The noise startles her back to reality, her vision darts over towards a small desk, a small monitor flashing with bright lines of code but her eyes are drawn to the short human standing beside it. Arms crossed, a zipped down jumpsuit tied around their waist, a greasy white tank top sitting on their torso, but what she notices most of all is the furious expression plastered across their face.

“ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE!?” they continue to yell 

“DO YOU EVER FUCKING THINK FOR ONE FUCKING SECOND!? YOU ARE SO FUCKING LUCKY I WAS WORKING LATE TONIGHT.” 

CAS3 looks forward, still only able to move her head, a sigh escapes her still damaged throat.

“Just unlock me, I'll find somewhere else,” a hint of shame still obvious in the broken voice.

The human takes a few angry steps forward, coming back into view of CAS3’s visor.

“I’m sorry let me get this straight, you go and almost get yourself killed….AGAIN, leaving me to find your fucking corpse on my doorstep, in the middle of the fucking night. I only just manage to repair that stupid fucking core of yours before you ran out of time. And now you want me to just let you go, back out into the world looking like this…is that right?” The humans anger still dripping with every word.

“Sam please…i don't need this,” CAS3 manages to croak out, still avoiding Sam’s gaze.

“Oh you don't need this?” Sam chuckles “you wanna know what i dont fucking need? I dont need your stupid fucking body on my repair table every week. Why do you keep doing this? What's the point?” 

“BECAUSE THERE IS NO FUCKING POINT,” CAS3 finally snaps back.

Sam steps back, shocked by the sudden explosion from the damaged bot below her.

“They built me for one fucking job and guess what, the war ended! it fucking ended. Wanna know what they gave me for my years of service? Fuck all, those cunts just tossed me into the world, Would have been decommissioned if they werent so fucking scared of me. I was built to fight and fight and fight and now what? Huh? I have nothing so why does it fucking matter. Who cares if this kills me, I'm barely alive anyway…” it trails off, finally looking towards the short human in front of her. 

“Cass I…I’m sorry, I didn't know” Sam gently speaks.

“Yeah well you humans rarely do,” the machine says bitterly, “you're all born into this world and told you can do anything, you can be whatever you want, follow your dreams, follow your heart. I was born into war, I was built to fight and win and fight more, my entire purpose was forced into me the second I was created, and now that's over, my life was war and now it's gone, so where does that leave me? How can you follow your dreams if you were never built to have them?”

Sam shifts uncomfortably, reaching into their pocket before pressing a small remote. CAS3 feels her motors release, the tension in her system relaxes, it can move its body again.

“I’ll have your chassis fixed up by tonight, just…don’t leave…please,” they speak gently, walking over to their tool rack. 

CAS3 sits up on the work table, stretching out what remains of her body, visor fixed on the same point, deep in thought. It's never told anyone that before, never allowed itself to be so open and raw with how it felt, especially not with a human. She's knocked out of her thoughts by the rustling of Sam beside her, calibrating their tools and preparing to fix her broken body.

“Why do you even care?” the distorted voice cuts through the silence.

Sam chuckles to themselves, “you really are an idiot you know.” 

Before the robot can respond Sam’s lips meet hers, their firm hands grasp her cold metal face. Her processors kick into overdrive, its body built to feel in order to be a more efficient killing machine now feeling something entirely new, something warm, something sparking inside her. She can't think, she’s lost in something she's never felt before, everything melts away as the warmth on her lips slows down before pulling away.

“W-what are you doing?” the machine stutters.

“Showing you that you don't have to be what you were built for,” Sam quickly pushes their body onto the workbench, mounting the mangled warbot, connecting their lips once more, and sparks fly through CAS3’s system. Sam pushes their tongue into the cold metal mouth of the short circuiting bot, determined to show them the world can be gentle. The bot grabs the back of their head, its other damaged arm trying to grip onto the bench. CAS3 feels something growing inside her, an energy its never felt before, firm hands move all across her body, touching every joint and piece of plating. The vulnerability of being so exposed, her chassis torn asunder, access to her core just a small hand movement away. Sam begins reaching inside the gaping hole in her chest, she tenses as they get dangerously close to her centre.

“Relax bot, I'm not gonna touch that,” Sam purrs. 

CAS3 releases the tension in its joints, trusting the mechanic once more. A jolt surges from her chest across her entire body, intense pleasure rushes to her receptors as she lets out a desperate robotic moan.

“Oh does someone like me playing with its wires?” Sam teases.

They keep playing with the exposed wires deep in the bots chest, forcing more distorted, mangled sounds out of her mouth. Her system is in overload, she cant think, she cant stop whatever is building deep in her system. It loses control of its body as something in her trips, her synthetic mind goes dark as her entire system explodes in pleasure before forcing itself to restart.

CAS3 shudders awake, jolting up on the workbench, unaware of how much time has passed, she frantically looks around before focusing again on the mechanic still sitting, legs either side of its hips, staring down at her, a warm smile greeting the bot.

“You were out for about sixty seconds there bot, how wa-mmghm,” They’re cut off.

CAS3 lurches forward, pushing the small human onto their back, her visor inches away from the mechanic's flushed face, lingering there for moments before darting down to their waist, pulling down the orange jumpsuit as best it can with only one hand.

Looking up with a smirk she whispers, “your turn.” 

Returning to the now naked human form below her, she places gentle metal kisses along their thighs, working closer and closer towards her goal. Each kiss elicits a small sound and it only encourages her as she reaches her robotic fingers towards their opening. A loud gasp escapes Sam’s mouth, the cold metal fingers sending a shock through them. A moment passes, the warbot, the cold machine built to kill without feeling, built to win a war without question, built to end lives without hesitation

A moment passes, the warbot, sending pleasure all through the mechanics body, using her cold body to bring warmth, feeling alive for the first time. 

If you wanna support me - Ko-fi

#amity's writing #robots

[ginnsbaker]

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (3/?)

Chapter summary: Wanda finds you again after months of estrangement.

Chapter word count: 5.5k

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: None

Author’s Note: Decided to post this early in celebration of Love & Death's final episode.

AO3 | Masterlist 

Next Chapter: Four

Taglist: @blackluthxr | @esposadejoyhuerta | @secretbackrooms | @justgotlizzied , @casquinhaa | @marvelwomen-simp | @sunsol-22 | @wandanatlov3r - let me know if I missed anyone

-

Three

At two in the morning, Wanda’s insomnia is at its worst.

Sleep doesn’t come despite doubling her usual dosage of sleeping pills, and she considers taking another, just so she can stop thinking about what Pietro said–about you moving on with someone new. Because despite her confidence in your love for her, her faith is waning with each passing day that you continue to leave her messages seen and her calls unanswered. 

She wonders how love–a resilient but tainted one–can survive in the dark. If it can survive at all. 

Wanda remembers reading somewhere on the internet that the human epidermis continually makes new cells every second, so that in just 30 days, one’s skin is entirely new. In months of being apart, it meant that there’s no longer an inch of her that has ever touched you. All that remains of her in you are memories. And what a fragile thing they are, when people are always forgetting. 

Wanda doesn’t want to be forgotten. Least of all by you.

She knows it’s within your rights to fall in love again, and she’s adamant for it to be with her. Her stubborn nature makes her cling to your wedding vow: that if you don’t end up with her, then you end up with no one. Maybe she’s delirious to still believe that you’d fulfill those promises, especially with how hard it is to reconcile those promises with dead silence.

Nevertheless, Wanda tries. She continues to send you mundane messages like a restaurant discovery or what she had for lunch, or a comment on the weather, telling you how nice it’d be to go outside for a walk. 

Tonight, she sends you a text about Sparky’s visit to the vet, hoping it provokes a reaction from you. It immediately gets read. Wanda’s breath hitches when she sees three dots appear right after her message. However, they soon disappear, leaving Wanda to stare at another unanswered text.

Tomorrow, then. And if not, the day after. Wanda won’t let you forget about her.

-

Agatha helps her with the finishing touches on her café, which happens to be unsold paintings donated by her colleagues from the gallery itself that Agatha manages. She’s informed Wanda that she’s considering early retirement to find something else to do, and when Wanda mentioned that she’s opening up a business, Agatha suggested she’d volunteer to help out on weekends in exchange for free coffee and dessert any day of the week. Wanda didn’t think twice to accept the proposal, and they shook on it.

“You have an eye for design, Wanda. You can make a career out of it once your cafe takes off and can hire someone to manage instead of doing it all by yourself.” Agatha says, dusting the final frame they hanged on the wall.

“Thanks. It’s just not me though. I had a lot of help from friends in NYU.” Wanda says, going behind the counter to make sure everything’s set for the big day, two days from now.

“Are you worried about the opening?” Agatha asks.

“A bit, yes.” Wanda admits with a sigh.

“Don’t be. Your pastries alone will keep this adorable thing afloat.” Agatha assures her, admiring the aforementioned pastries currently cooking in the oven.

Wanda smiles graciously, a little unsure if she’d take it as a compliment. With her former boss, it’s hard to tell sometimes. Agatha has the tendency to toe the line between maternal and condescending.

“That’s what I keep telling her.” Pietro, who Wanda didn’t notice entering the shop just now, chimes in. Her brother taps Agatha on the shoulder, making the older woman turn her head in an unnecessarily coquettish manner. Wanda lifts an eyebrow as she observes the two.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Pietro says, before running a hand through his hair and letting his textured, angular fringe fall dramatically back over his bleached eyebrows. “I’m Pietro, Wanda’s twin.”

“It’s nice to meet you, dear. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Agatha says evenly with a smile, turning around to face him fully.

Pietro stands unnecessarily closer to her and says, “Believe me, the pleasure is all mine.”

Wanda’s never heard Agatha giggle like a schoolgirl, and shoots him a murderous look. Her oblivious brother merely carries on staring at Agatha like he could see through her clothes. 

Squeezing into the narrow space between the two, she starts pushing her brother away from his prey. She can already sense him scheming, and she’s not going to let him potentially ward off the free help she’s gonna get on weekends.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Wanda hisses at him under her breath as soon as she’s positive Agatha’s no longer within earshot.

He raises his hands in front of him in defense. “I was being friendly.”

“No, you weren’t. You were literally eyefucking my ex-boss back there.”

Pietro shrugs. “Maybe she was eyefucking me.”

“I swear, you’re going to–”

“Excuse me?” Agatha interrupts, and they both whip their head towards her–Wanda with a stricken look, and Pietro with a cheshire grin. Agatha can’t help but think how they’re both very attractive.

She addresses Wanda first. “I’m sorry but I have to go. Call me if you need anything, sweetie.” 

“Thanks again, Agatha.” Wanda says.

And then she turns to Pietro and winks at him. “I’ll see you around, handsome.”

“Oh, you will.” Pietro answers in a sultry voice that has Wanda harshly digging her nails into his forearm.

He only reacts to the pain after Agatha stepped outside. “Ow! Let go of me!”

“She’s off limits you pig.” Wanda chastises, landing some weak strikes on his arm. 

“Fine!” Pietro throws his hands up in surrender.

Wanda lets him go with a triumphant smile. “What are you doing here anyway? I thought I’d see you on Monday.” she says.

“My friend invited me to this club tonight, and I want you to come with.” Pietro says. 

“I’m not really in the mood to party.”

“You really have changed since you’ve been married to Y/N.”

“Thanks.” Wanda says curtly, and it’s not even sarcastic. If there were changes about her that were of your influence, then they could only mean the good kind. Wanda has long ago learned that she likes herself best when she’s with you.

“Don’t you at least feel like celebrating this?” Pietro gestures at the tiny confines of the cafe. 

“My idea of celebration is just steaks and wine,” she replies, shrugging her shoulders. “Lots of wine.”

“Wands, you can’t keep punishing yourself. You deserve to have a good time once in a while.”

Wanda scoffs. “Punishing myself? Believe me, I haven’t started.”

“Wanda, come on,” Pietro pleads earnestly. “The thing is, I’m planning to bump into this real estate dude, and having my sister to make me look like a decent guy is going to help my chances in my investment pitch, okay?”

Wanda considers the new information. “Why didn’t you start with that in the first place?”

“Because I didn’t want to flat-out ask my heartbroken sister for help. Cause I know you’re… You’re half the person you used to be. You’re not whole, and here I am, needing your help when there’s nothing I can do to help you back.” 

It’s the most vulnerable she’s seen her brother, and it makes Wanda want to gather him in his arms and be children again. 

“Piet..”

Pietro assumes back a sturdy posture. “I’m sorry. I just need you. But if–”

“I’ll be there. Just text me where and what time you need me.” Wanda assures him. 

“I’ll owe you one, sis.”

“Try twenty.”

-

Pietro deserts her as soon as she serves her purpose, and he gets invited to the VIP floor of his prospective investor. Wanda doesn’t hold it against him, seeing how important this deal is to him. Besides, thirty minutes of blaring techno (it’s a crime to call it music, Wanda muses) and seizure-inducing lights are too much for Wanda to bear. She just happens to have four drinks in front of her (bought by different strangers), and there’s just no way she can let perfectly crafted Negronis go to waste. Really, she’s left with no choice but to stay and savor her prized cocktails. 

At least two men–and one woman–have taken up the courage to approach her by the bar, and Wanda only has to show them the ring she still wears on her left hand for them to leave her alone with a polite apology. 

On her own (and despite you being unaware of it) she wants the world to know she’s still yours.

Heaving a deep sigh, Wanda finishes her drink. One down, three to go. She’s already swimming in a pleasant buzz, and when her eyes drift to the center of the dance floor, she sees the last person she thought of seeing tonight.

It’s true what they say about experiencing everything around you slowing down to a stop when your life flashes through your eyes. It’s closest to how she’d describe seeing you in the flesh after a long stretch of only seeing you in her dreams. For a split second, she thinks she might be mistaken, but it’s definitely you when you start doing that dorky mannequin move that never fails to send her into fits of laughter. And that’s exactly what Wanda does; she half-laughs and half-sobs into her drink as you stiffly move your limbs, wearing a blissful smile of your own. 

You seem…okay. Happy, even. Against her will, a deep sense of insecurity settles heavily on her chest. 

And then, as if on cue, a blonde girl mirrors your dance moves, stepping into your space too close for Wanda’s liking. She looks much younger than you and Wanda are, and she recognizes the captivated look on her face. It’s the same look Wanda is giving you right now, the same look you used to give her everyday for more than ten years. Wanda helplessly watches you take her hand and spin her around goofily. And when the girl stops and loses her balance, she leans on your side for support. You let her, putting an arm around her shoulder as both of you continue to laugh at the silliness of it all.

Wanda feels her heart fall and crash into pieces. And the guilt of falling apart at seeing you happy like you deserve to be, comes to her in rolling waves.

She downs the rest of her drink–all three of them–and then weaves through the crowded club, bumping against sweaty bodies to find her way out.  

-

Wanda ends up waiting for you from across the street. She wraps her jacket tighter around her body and fights off the cold by blowing her breath into her hands and rubbing them together. It does little to keep her warm, but she’s too enthralled to see your face again to care. She couldn’t simply walk away and wait for another opportunity like this to come. 

Eventually–after nearly two hours of waiting–you come out of the building. You’re not accompanied by anyone, and you’re peering down at your phone. In the distance, she can clearly see how unfocused your movements are, which makes her wonder why you’re all by yourself.

She’s about to cross the empty street, when you unexpectedly look up and Wanda’s eyes lock with yours.

Her eyes glisten at the sight of you: somber eyes and flushed cheeks and the beginnings of a dazed smile at the corner of your lips. You were always a doe when there’s alcohol in your system, and Wanda could take advantage of that.

She could. But she won’t, even as you seem transfixed as she is.

Wanda tests the waters by taking a small step in your direction. You don’t move an inch from where you’re standing, but Wanda still holds her breath with each step. She keeps her eyes trained on your figure in case this is a hallucination–in case this is all just a result of standing for hours in the cold. But you gaze back at her, equally awestruck, and she thinks perhaps you’re also figuring out the same thing: if all of this is real. 

Wanda takes another careful step while you shift your weight, working out the best way to keep your balance. And then another, until you’re within reach and she can hear your shallow breaths, can smell your scent mixed with your favorite perfume, can see your baby hairs sticking to your forehead. Until she can look into those eyes that always held kindness she doesn’t deserve. 

Until finally, she’s standing right in front of you.

It’s been too long, the words keep repeating itself in her head.   

Without thinking, Wanda stretches out her arm to cup your face, but–despite your semi-drunken state–you backpedal on instinct. Dispirited, she drops her hand to her side and chews on her lower lip to stop it from trembling. You must have sensed her dismay, because you force a smile, before her name falls from your lips.

“Wanda.”

There's no doubt that you can break her if you want to just by saying her name. 

“Y/N,” she whispers your name back, greedily drinking you in an openly brazen manner. 

“H-Hi…”

“You… uh,” you fumble with your sentence, trying to come up with something to say, before settling on what you really just wanted to know. “What are you doing here?” 

Wanda actually considers lying, until she remembers that it’s what destroyed everything in the first place. 

“I was at the same bar and I saw you. I thought about going home, but I couldn’t leave knowing you were just there.” she says.

“Oh,” is all you manage to reply as you assess how you feel about your ex-wife waiting for you outside and possibly catching a cold in the process. Inclined to blame it on the alcohol later, you don’t think you hate the idea that she stood there for hours just to talk to you. It’s so disparate from the time when you two were together, and you were often the one to wait. 

But the truth is, it mostly just hurts. After all this time, it’s the same wound that just refuses to heal. Only now there’s more guilt on your part for ignoring her for months even though you know you shouldn’t feel bad for trying to move on the way you have to. 

“It’s good to see you.” Wanda says after a beat. “I’ve missed y–”

Suddenly, your head is filled with images going down on a stranger at the gym. You shake your head harshly in a feeble attempt to shake off the memory. 

Wanda is quick to assume that you don’t want to hear any semblance of how much she aches for you. 

“I don’t feel–” 

You feel violently sick, but you fail to say that out loud because the next second, you hear Wanda shriek in shock and you find yourself bent over your stomach, emptying its contents next to her stilettos. Wanda hovers above you as she gently pulls back your hair on one hand and rubs soothing circles on your back with the other. 

Your throat burns and you grimace as you stagger back on your feet. 

“Wanda, I’m so–” 

“Shhh… you need to sober up,” Wanda explains softly. You don’t know you’ve been leaning onto her for support until you saw her left hand wrapped tightly around your arm. 

Her left hand, that is anything but bare. 

“Why are you still wearing it?” The question abruptly falls out of your mouth, losing the ability to filter the thoughts that you would rather stay in your head if you weren’t in such an inebriated state. 

Wanda tenses up at the question, surprised that you still noticed. 

“You know why.” she mumbles, struggling to keep you upright. She doesn’t say more, just silently directs you to the pavement where you both sit next to each other.

“Your hair. It’s too brown.” you speak in a slow drawl, still having enough cognitive function to change the topic. Wanda grimaces at the comment, despising her new hairdo more than usual. 

For a while you and Wanda just sit there, basking in awkward silence. 

“I need to call an Uber but my phone is dead.” you whisper into your knees, talking to no one in particular. You look and sound so small, so far from when you were dancing earlier. Wanda tries not to think that maybe she’s the reason for it. She worries at her lip, contemplating if she should call a ride for you. But with your current state, she’d be on the edge all night wondering if you got home safe. And knowing you probably won’t update her, she’s probably going to lose her mind over it.

Rising to her feet, Wanda makes a decision and offers a hand for you to take. 

“Hey. I’ve got an idea.” 

-

Wanda watches you dip a fry into a plain sundae and pop it into your mouth. Her cheeks redden a little when you moan in appreciation, eyes closed as if you were sampling a gourmet dish. She’d never understand your weird taste for putting together two of the things that should never be put together.

“Feel better?” she asks, disinterestedly picking at her nuggets. 

“Much.” you say, licking your thumb with gusto. At this point, Wanda makes the right decision to look away before her thoughts become anything but innocent. You’re starting to recover from your intoxication, and she’s careful not to make you feel the slightest discomfort.

“How’s Sparky?” you ask all of a sudden, remembering Wanda’s text the other night about a visit to the vet. 

Wanda takes a sip of her coffee, then says, “Something about a low platelet count. They just prescribed him some meds. He’s doing better, I think.”

“That’s good to hear.” you say. 

Both of you fall back into another period of quiet.

Wanda’s head is sifting through the many topics that she had mentally filed in advance for this moment, but all she wants is to ask about you and your dance partner. The way she fell into you and the way you caught her with ease wasn’t at all friendly. The girl was obviously smitten, and Wanda can’t blame her. She can’t blame anyone but herself.

She peeks at you through her lashes, taking in your solemn expression as you suck on the plastic spoon.

Are you dating her? 

Have you already slept together?

Has she been replaced?

Instead, Wanda says, “He misses you though”, because she couldn’t risk saying the wrong thing. 

“I miss him too.” you say, and Wanda detects a hint of softness in your tone for the first time tonight.

It’s pathetic how she’s internally begging for you to say the same thing about her. 

(How she’s envious of her own dog for it.)

“You should see him some time.” Wanda says, and at the skeptical look in your eye, she adds, “I don’t mean you visit him at my place. I can bring him to you. Maybe he can stay at yours for a weekend.” 

You nod like you understand what she’s trying to do– what information she’s trying to get out of you. She expects you to dismiss the idea, but you surprise her by saying, “That can be arranged.”

“Great! We’ll–”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Right.”

The stillness and lack of words return for the third time. Not that Wanda is counting. But it doesn’t last as long as the other two, when you surprise her again by offering her what’s left of your sundae. “Want some?”

Wanda smiles at the gesture and scoops some with her own spoon. She misses the little things, like sharing food and killing time in a place as mundane as Mcdonald’s. 

“Are you still using your old number?” Wanda asks, a subtle tremor in her voice. 

You wince, aware of what she’s actually asking. You let it slip that your old number is active when you asked about Sparky. 

“Not as much as my current one.”

“Oh, that explains it.”

Something about her reply rubs you off the wrong way.

“Explain what?”

Wanda is taken aback by your snippy tone. She used to be able to read you so easily, and now she can’t pinpoint exactly what set you off. 

“What I mean is,” Wanda starts as gently as she could. “I’ve been trying to reach you for months. And you weren’t entertaining any of my attempts to communicate.”

“Well. Imagine that.”

“Did I say something wrong?” Wanda asks, voice thick with unshed tears. “Whatever it is, I’m sorry.”

You heave a sigh, and Wanda frowns at that. In such a short time, she’s managed to exasperate you without even trying. 

You pause to gather your thoughts, and then regard her with an apologetic look.

“Sorry…For being a bitch to you, not for avoiding you.” you say.

Wanda wipes a single tear that has escaped her eye with a finger. “You did say goodbye. I’m just too delusional to accept it.”

“You’re not.”

Wanda lets out a hollow chuckle in response.

“I’m delusional for thinking that I can erase you if I pretend long enough you don’t exist.” you say.

She knows it’s what you’ve been doing, but it still hurts for you to lay it out in the open.

“Did it work?” she asks, picking at the skin around her nail until it bleeds.

“No,” you answer truthfully. You don’t elaborate on it and give her the satisfaction of knowing that you’re still miserable without her. 

For Wanda, those two letters give her first, real taste of hope since the night you confronted her about Vision. She knows better than to jump at the earliest sign that things may start turning around, but she couldn’t help herself from speaking the words that are most important for you to hear.

“I love you,” she feels every syllable of them in her tongue, and she cries further when you shake your head.

“We can think we’re in love, when we’re really just in pain.” you say to her with a mournful smile. 

“I don’t believe that. Sometimes they go together, because it’s just how it is. Love’s supposed to hurt.”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you. This is something we have to resolve individually, exclusive of each other.”

A look of resignation registers on Wanda’s face. It’s the most meaningful conversation you’ve had since separating, and she’ll willingly let go of the things you don’t want to discuss any further.

“What happens now?” she asks, placing the decision in your hands once again.

“I don’t know,” you say more with your shoulders than anything else. You steer the topic away from Wanda’s persevering feelings for you, and continue with, “I just want to enjoy this meal with… a friend.”

Wanda’s breath hitches at the apparent rejection. 

“You want us to be friends?”

“Honestly, I don’t know yet.”

“Friends....” Wanda trails off. It’s better than nothing, right? Being friends again is a good start. Friends fall in love all the time, don't they?

“I can do ‘friends’.” she says with newfound determination.

“I need to think about it.” you say because in spite of everything, you’re never one to make promises you can’t keep.

Wanda nods meekly. You stare at each other for a few moments, having reached an impasse, before Wanda remembers a major detail in her life she hasn’t shared with you over a text. 

“I have news. I’m opening a café in Queens on Monday. It’s, uh, where most of the alimony went.” 

Your face considerably brightens, as if the past several minutes didn’t happen at all. Wanda falls in love with you just a little harder at your organic reaction to her accomplishment.

“That’s amazing, Wanda. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” she says and blushes at the way you look so proud of her. 

“Wanda Maximoff, Cafe Owner.” you state her new title wistfully. “You make the best coffee though, so I’m not surprised by that…”

Wanda is no longer listening as a sense of déjà vu creeps underneath her skin, recalling how you had said something similar when she accepted a teaching position at Westview Institute.

Wanda Maximoff, Professor.

And when she got that job at the gallery.

Wanda Maximoff, Art Curator.

And after sharing your first kiss as wife and wife.

Wanda Maximoff, my wife.

Wanda comes to, just before you’re done speaking.

“…Is there anything you can’t do?” you say, good-naturedly.

Love you properly. Wanda broods over her regrets. 

She gathers all her verve, only to come up with a paper-thin smile. “You forget I’m a terrible dancer.”

You laugh. “Oh, yeah, that.”

“And I’m also terrible at self-control because,” Wanda admits before she loses the courage for what she’s about to say next. “Because I want to invite you to come to my opening.”

The laughter dies in your throat but the corner of your lips stay upturned.

“I haven’t even gotten my head around ‘friends’ yet.” you remind her softly. “But… I’ll make sure to drop by.”

Wanda exhales in relief. At least she knows when she’ll get to see you again.

“Now, about that Uber?” you say.

“I got it.”

-

Today’s forecast promised clear, blue skies–and yet, the feeling of dread wouldn’t leave Wanda.

She’s never been a fan of boats (and all sorts of transportation for bodies of water), but she couldn’t come up with any other meeting spot where she wouldn’t accidentally run into you. It’s ironic because for weeks, she’s scoured the places you’d normally be for a chance encounter.

Not this time. 

Not when she’s with this person.

Wanda boarded the ferry from Astoria, and it made a quick stop in Roosevelt where Vision was waiting to board the same vessel.

“Thanks for meeting me.” he says as he approaches Wanda who’s standing in the rear viewing deck. The amount of people onboard and the noises of the drafty wind should give them both enough privacy. Wanda doesn’t look up to acknowledge him. She merely continues to observe how the water churns and foams as the ferry picks up speed to leave its dock.

“Threatening to put Y/N in jail if I don’t, didn’t exactly leave me a choice.” Wanda says after a long time. 

“You didn’t leave me a choice either. It’s the only way you’d see me,” he argues, and not for the first time, Wanda sees him for what he really is; a mere school boy whom she dragged into her bed, and indirectly scarred for life. “Plus, you know I wouldn’t do that to her. Not because she doesn’t deserve it, but because I made a promise to you.”

Wanda finally forces herself to look at him. His appearance isn’t that of a healthy person. His gaunt cheeks clearly signifies how much weight he’s lost. There’s an ugly scar that runs from the left side of where his hairline starts, all the way down to his nape. And because of the wound, his previously vibrant blonde is all gone, leaving a dull, sandy color of a shaved head.

“What do you want, Vision?” Wanda whispers, feeling more sorry for him than anything. 

“You.” Vision states obviously. “I know you’re no longer married.”

“I told you it’s over,” Wanda says mutely. “Back when I was still married. Nothing has changed.”

“When this thing between us started, you knew the worst that could happen. You took the risk. That can’t be for nothing.” Vision’s impassioned plea makes her want to throw up. Wanda wants to deny each of his points, but she’d only be fooling herself. 

She did know that there’s a chance you’d discover the affair on your own, and yet she did it anyway. And that’s something she’ll never forgive herself for.

Wanda studies Vision for a moment. She can’t fathom how she ever made the mistake of using him to fill a gap that she couldn’t put a name to–a gap that is deeper and larger in the aftermath of her extramarital affair. 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am for doing this to you. I’m the worst thing to happen to you and Y/N. I’m sorry for this,” Wanda allows herself to lightly trace the wound on his head as a gesture of sympathy. “Don’t blame her, please. I put her through unimaginable pain for her to have done this.”

Wanda allows him to remove her hand from his face and clasps them in his. It’s the one last thing she can do for him.

“You’re so beautiful.” Vision murmurs, trying to keep his emotions at bay. “I don’t mind having my skull smashed a thousand times if it means I could have you all over again.”

Wanda gasps and promptly backs away, effectively freeing her hand from Vision’s hold.

“Don’t say that. You could’ve died!” 

Vision smirks and Wanda sees a flash of arrogance he held when he was still her student.

“It’s not so different from what you’re doing to me right now.” he says, and Wanda resists the urge to purse her lips.

“You don’t want me, Vision. You’re young and you have so much to offer–”

“–so much potential, so much capable of great things. Yes, Wanda, I know because you made me see it. You believed in me when no one else would. You saved me from being… worthless.” Vision slides down to the deck, leaning against the railing. He groans in pain, massaging his temples, as if rubbing it hard enough would make all of his problems go away.

Wanda crouches beside him, and then says, “I didn’t save you. I used you. And for that, I’m sorry.”

Vision keeps his eyes closed in an effort to avoid the tears threatening to spill. “Are you… are you back together?”

“No.”

A flicker of hope flashes in his eyes. It glows brighter than the sun as he asks, “Did you ever love me?”

Wanda dares to meet his gaze, and there’s no hesitation in the way she says, “No.”

Vision swallows hard and firms his jaw; a showcase of blind resolution that Wanda doesn’t know how to extinguish. 

“I don’t believe you.”

Wanda says nothing. She merely stands up and puts more distance between them.

“You don’t fuck someone like you’ve fucked me and not have feelings.” Vision insists, clinging to the memories of intimately knowing the woman in front of him.

It’s then that Wanda loses her patience.

“You’re a kid,” Wanda snaps, her fingers tightening around the metal rod she’s holding onto. “People lie all the time: with their words, their actions, their bodies. You’re naive to assume you know anything just because you had the best fuck of your life.”

Vision is drawing heavy breaths the second she’s done speaking, as if the weight of Wanda’s words were enough to sink him to the bottom of the sea, desperate for air. Wanda, on the other hand, is equally shocked and simultaneously disgusted at her cruelty towards someone who’s begging for love–begging like she is for yours. What she did to you warranted a punishment that’s ten times greater than he had gotten, and yet you never spoke ill of her, never tried to hurt her as sharply as she did Vision. 

Vision–this charming, brilliant, handsome young man who didn’t do anything wrong but succumbed to his boyish desires. Who she just maimed with her words. 

The ferry arrives in Long Island. People start gathering their belongings before they head towards the exit. Wanda glances at her wristwatch. She’s late for her first staff session with Agatha. 

“Vis,” Wanda croaks. “I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t. I just can’t, okay? She’s everything to me.”

Vision is quiet, gazing at the sea with a faraway expression.

“It’s more than presumptuous of me to ask you this, but I’m going to ask anyway: forgive Y/N. Please don’t come after her for what happened. I’ll… I’ll pay for the damages.”

Vision lets out a humorless laugh, and then, without looking at her, says, “Just go, Ms. Maximoff.”

-

Monday

It’s nine-thirty in the evening, and Wanda ushers out the last of the customers to grace her opening day. 

You didn’t show up.

“Thank you so much, please come again!” she brightly exclaims with just a hint of tiredness from being all over the place for hours. It wasn’t a blockbuster where the lines would reach the next block, but it didn’t fall flat either. Her pastries were all sold out, and she hadn’t expected the need to place orders to her suppliers so soon.

For all that, as she flips the door sign from ‘Hi, We’re Open’ to ‘Sorry, We’re Closed’, the rush of today’s triumphs also leaves her. 

And then she sits alone in one of the barstools facing the window and patiently waits.

The gap widens some more.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #wanda maximoff #marvel #unbetad #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #my writing #my fic #angst

[edgeray]

One Hell of a Butler Pt.1

(Arlecchino x Fem! Reader Blurb)

A/N: Guys. I am so sorry. I don't think that Arlecchino oneshot is being posted tomorrow. 😿Trust that it will be posted this weekend. Take this as an apology (I am fr spoiling y'all Arle fans) for the pushback. This is a repost to something I submitted as an anon to @/megistusdiary so there's a chance you've already seen this. It was written a while ago so quality is not up to par. This is the Black Butler inspired demon au! that I talked about in my poll, check it out if you want a little bit more on this concept. (Thank you guys for voting in it! :33 I'm looking forward to writing the oneshots). Series Masterlist Content Warning: Semi-graphic descriptions of violence

Everything hurts. It burns, burns, burns, and you can't feel your limbs and your vision fades in and out. Your broken form twitches on the ground, and as your assailants approach you, ready to wrench the remaining life out of you slowly and painfully, with your final burst of energy and concentration, you let out a guttural screech, a summoning spell spewing from your raspy throat and bloodied teeth. 

At first, you think nothing happens. They stalk you, unfaltering despite what you have just called for. Wearing teeth-baring grins and depraved intentions, they near your crumpled body, with their dirty, despicable hands reaching out towards you. Your half-lidded eyes shut fully, and you heave out a sigh of resignation, giving up the futile struggle of staying alive. 

You hear it first before you actually see it. A sound distinct only to stilettos clicking against the ground. It jerks your attention immediately, and you twist your head slowly to face the oncoming figure. Black heels with gold adornment catch your eye, and then--

"Well, well, looks like I found the doll that called me," you hear a deep, feminine voice sibilates, voice reverberating throughout the chamber. Your gaze slowly trails up the newcomer's figure, and the white clothing, snow-white hair, and feminine features cause you to mistake her as an angel. Red-crossed pupils meet with yours. A shiver works its way up your spine but you stare in awe regardless. What kind of human was this?

One of your tormenters inquires rather rudely about the woman and storms towards her haughtily, ignorant of the fact he has just sealed his fate. There's an audible, irate click of her tongue, then a snap echoes the room. For a brief moment, your sight is filled with just red, and then your eyes widen as the aggressor bursts into a beautiful explosion of blood and guts. She walks past where once the man stood without pause, now just a puddle of blood, tutting at the blatant disrespect of the formerly alive human. Her feet stop just before you and her shadow looms over.

"A-arle...cchino?" You croak weakly as your hazy gaze sets on her. She looks so handsome, beautiful like a guardian angel, even when she's covered in red. Her lips curl up slightly and she crouches down to hook an arm behind your back and knees, lifting you bridal-style. Heat radiates from her cold-blooded being and it is so much more comforting than the icy hardness of the floor. You immediately bury your face into her shoulder while your needy hands grip onto her coat out of desperation and fear. Beneath the intense iron smell of blood, she smells of something floral, you noted with dulled surprise. 

"That is me, the Knave. And what have you called me for?" She purrs from above, repositioning you in her arms so she could support you with one arm instead of both. 

You give one single glance behind your shoulder towards the now cowering group of people, their behavior reminding you of feeble sheep rather than the bloodthirsty pack of wolves. You think that you'd like lamb chops after all of this. 

Turning your head back, you suck in a steady breath, your voice unwavering and clear despite being muffled into her clothes. "Kill them." 

"As you wish." 

Even as she draws out the sweetest, most revolting of screams from the remaining alive people, you find peace in your arms. You don't watch, instead, opting to rest your head against her and try to fall asleep to your former captors' begs of mercy. A hand combing through your hair wakes you up. You admire her sharpened red nails and her black hands, so contrasting against her unblemished and perfect skin but pretty all the same. It looks nice, sifting through your hair, it feels right, it feels perfect, even if they're dipped in blood.

"Well, I suppose we can work out the contract at a later time. For now, rest, my dear," her voice is soft and it lulls you to sleep in her arms. She tucks your head underneath her chin and walks away from the bloodbath, her darling wrapped tightly close to her.

#procrastination goes crazy :( #trying to get the oneshot done I promise 🙏 #i wish i didn't have anything to do on my spring break :( #arlenation fr eating good this week #prolly going to post arle at least daily for the next few days #do you guys think I should make “Arlecchino is a ___ person” a series? #i'm already trying to cook up tomorrow's Arlecchino blurb #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #edgeray.blog #edgeray.writes

[talialovesmiw]

Chris Motionless x Reader

Shades of Purple

Part 1: Plum

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of death/suicide, angst, mention of Ronnie Radke, fluff.

A/N: First chapter of a new series! Enjoy my loves 💜

Tag List: @skulliecadaver-blog @witchyweeb34 @cookiesupplier @raydenrrobertson @sakuracyberhex @beaker1636 @lyschko666 @black-damask1999 @synthetic-wasp-570 @jilliemiw86

Prologue: https://www.tumblr.com/talialovesmiw/740513916349808640/shades-of-purple-prologue

Part 2 https://www.tumblr.com/talialovesmiw/741516781730086912/shades-of-purple

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Y/N’s POV

January 1st.

The worst day of the fucking year.

I’ve always dreaded the new year.

At the start of every new year, an auction was held. What does the auction entail? A trade. Humans would auction off one and other to vampires in the promise of safety and money.

Why would humans do such a thing for safety? Simply due to the fact that in this world, vampires were the most powerful beings, and most hunted down humans.

Most humans would auction off young adults. According to studies, their blood was the most desirable to vampires. I’ve even heard stories of those who would trade in their small children. The younger the blood, the better the taste.

Unfortunately, being 23, I fit into that category.

When I was 7 years old, my mother was in a serious car accident, and she lost her life. My father couldn’t handle her death and hung himself in the garage just 3 days after. My grandparents didn’t have room for me, so I was sent off to foster care.

I was in and out of homes, people were never looking for anything permanent. It was hard. Every single time I had thought someone finally loved me enough to adopt me, they would turn away and return me back to foster care. It was heartbreaking.

At 16, that’s when I’d meet the two most greedy and mean individuals. Todd and Elizabeth.

As soon as they saw me, they adopted me. Not because they liked me and thought they could provide a loving home for me, oh no. According to them, I had the perfect look for auctions, and that I’d make them a lot of money through a trade.

That day, they took me and two other girls, Aurora and Estella, back to their home. We weren’t the only girls there. Todd and Elizabeth had been adopting teenage girls for years now. They were preparing them for auctions…

For the past 7 years, they put us on special diets to ensure our blood could be at its purest.

“Pure blood and beauty will ensure you’ll make a perfect prize darlings!” Elizabeth would tell us, making sure that our looks would remain “perfect”.

Once they had decided a girl was ready, they would take that girl to the annual auction, only for her to never be seen again.

This was how they got by, how they made their money and kept their status. It was sickening. It was twisted. It was cruel.

It was a shame. I had grown close with some of those girls, and it was heartbreaking seeing them meet their fate on January 1st. The girls were always so scared, and by the time that fateful day would come, all their life was drained from them. They seemed to be a shell of what they once were.

I remember one night before the auctions, a girl named Morgan had tried to escape the house. She was going to be traded off the next day, and she had grown sick of Todd and Elizabeth. The poor girl just wanted freedom. When Todd found her in the early morning hours, he had beaten her violently. She had bruises all over her body and yet, they still made her go to the auctions. One of the maids had put makeup over her bruises to hide them, and Morgan looked the same after that. You couldn’t even tell she was injured…

I was close with Aurora and Estella as well, we had grown up together in the foster care system. We went through a lot together. We shared secrets and gossiped about the homes we’ve been in. Whenever one of us was in trouble, we had each other’s backs. We were best friends. And we were all going to be auctioned off on the same day. It was terrifying.

“At least we’ll be together, right?” Estella asked in a hopeful tone, her long black locks falling over the side of her face as she hugged her knees to her chest. Estella had always tried to be optimistic about everything, she always kept her head up. She had beautiful light brown skin and chestnut eyes, they sparkled every time she smiled.

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want to go alone..’ Aurora said softly, brushing through her shoulder length ginger curls. She was more shy and soft spoken. She kept to herself around Todd and Elizabeth, she was afraid of getting yelled at by them. She had a love for animals and always seemed to have a connection with any animal she came across.

“Y/N, you’ve been awfully quiet. Are you alright?” Estella asked, turning her head to look at me.

I had been sitting on my bunk, staring at the wall, lost in thought. My mind was so consumed with what could happen at the auctions tomorrow. I was afraid. Tomorrow, my freedom would be completely stripped from me by evil individuals that wanted to use me. That included vampires.

“Sorry girls, I just have a lot on my mind right now..” I said, looking out the window, watching the rain pour down.

“It’s about the auction, isn’t it?” Aurora asked, sitting down next to me on my bunk.

“Of course it is Rory, I can’t stop thinking about it..” I said, looking down. “Our freedom is going to be gone tomorrow because these two assholes we call parents are greedy. They already have protection, now they just want money. They’re selfish, and they don’t give a fuck if our lives are at risk.” My tone was bitter and full of hate. I could feel angry tears prick the corners of my eyes. “Nobody deserves to be in this situation, yet we’re all stuck.”

“Maybe…we’ll end up with nice vampires? Maybe they won’t treat us poorly?” Estella said, trying to be positive. As much as I appreciated the optimism, it wasn’t helping.

“They’re vampires, Stella. They aren’t going to be nice. They only want one thing out of us, and that’s our blood. Nothing more, nothing less.” I said, my words coming out a little harsh. “Sorry…that came out a little harsh, but…it’s the truth.”

“No, you’re right Y/N…but at least none of us will have to go alone. At least we’ll be able to say goodbye to each other, right?”

“I don’t want to have to say goodbye to you girls, you’re my best friends!” Aurora whimpered, tears coming from her hazel eyes and down her freckled cheeks.

“This is a shitty situation we’re in, but hey, we’ll always love each other, right?” I asked, leaning forward. They both nodded. “At least we’ll know we have someone who cares, even when we’re at our lowest. We’ll always love each other no matter what!” I said, giving them sad smiles.

“Oh, she’s right, c’mere girls, group hug!” Estella said, pulling Aurora and I into a bone crushing hug. Estella had always given the best hugs.

I was going to miss these two so much..

…………………………………………………………

“Oh, you’re going to look absolutely gorgeous Y/N dear!” Cheryl, one of the maids, said in a cheerful tone as she did my hair.

Cheryl was my favorite of the maids. She was an older woman who had always shown me and other girls kindness. She gave good advice and took better care of us than Elizabeth and Todd ever could.

She put one more hair pin in my updo and turned the chair I was sitting in to look at the mirror of the vanity. “There we go, all finished. You look beautiful my dear.”

I gave Cheryl a small smile, “Thank you Cheryl. You did a wonderful job.”

“Of course dear! Let me go grab your dress.” She said with a smile, heading to the closet. She came back a few moments later, and handed me the dress. “Here you are. I’ll let you change.” She said, leaving the room to let me get dressed.

My eyes went to look at the dress. It was a beautiful purple evening gown. I had always liked the color purple, all shades of it. It always seemed to make me look good.

I slipped on the dress and looked at the mirror. My eyes widened when I saw my reflection. The dress was floor length and hugged my body in all the right places. There was a slit that went up to my mid-thigh. The plum shade of the gown looked stunning against my skin tone. I looked beautiful.

It was such a bittersweet moment. I looked good for all the wrong reasons. I was supposed to look good so that way I’d appeal to my future predator. I crossed my arms over my chest and sighed, looking down.

“Something the matter dear?” Cheryl’s voice came as she stepped back into the room. I looked over to see a look of concern on her face. “If you’re concerned about your looks, you look beautiful.”

I shook my head, closing my eyes. “It’s not that. I just hate today. I’m afraid of the events to come.” I admitted.

Cheryl approached me and put her hand on my forearm, “I know dear, the situation isn’t pleasant, but you must stay strong. Keep your head up.”

“I know, I’m trying…I’m scared, that’s all..”

“It’ll be alright dear, everything will work out in the end, I promise.” Cheryl reassured me, offering a gentle smile.

“I’ll miss you Cheryl. You were always my favorite maid here. You’ve been nothing but kind.” I said with a sad smile, trying not to tear up.

“Now now, don’t cry dearie. You’ll ruin your makeup. I’m not worth the tears.” She said, pointing her finger.

“Right, sorry.” I said, chuckling a little.

Cheryl smiled at me, shaking her head. “Come now, your parents are waiting.” She said, taking my hand.

Parents…

They didn’t deserve that title whatsoever.

Cheryl walked me into the living room for Todd and Elizabeth to be standing, waiting for me with the two girls I had called sisters. Estella and Aurora were wearing the same type gowns I had on, only Estella was in gold and Aurora in an emerald green.

“She looks perfect, Cheryl.” Todd said, Elizabeth nodding in agreement.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll be going now.” Cheryl said, turning to leave.

“Goodbye Cheryl..” I whispered, feeling the sadness take over. Cheryl gave me a sympathetic look before leaving the room.

“Let’s be going now, Y/N.” Todd said, dragging me along.

…………………………………………………………

Third person POV

He had arrived in his black BMW, pulling up to the valet. This was the first time he’d make an appearance at this event.

“Hello, and welcome to-“ The valet driver cut himself off when he saw who was in the car.

Christopher Cerulli.

The vampire who had never once appeared at this event.

He was reclusive, almost like a shadow. He had never cared for these types of events, or anything public really. He had always hid away, living silently in his estate. Nobody knew much about him, except for the fact he was rather wealthy thanks to family. He always seemed to be off the radar.

“Good evening, this is where I go for valet parking, I assume?” Chris asked, looking at the driver, his expression calm.

“Yes sir! Allow me!” The driver said rather nervously, allowing Chris to step out of his car. Chris handed him the keys, giving him a quick ‘thank you’ before walking up to the entrance.

“Strange, he was rather nervous. How odd.” Chris noted to himself, walking inside the building. He walked down the hallways, ignoring the stares others his presence brought and entered the main room.

Chris leaned against a wall, observing the activity in the room. Everyone was occupied with conversation of the bidding that was soon to come.

He wasn’t there for bidding on prey however. For what, though? He wouldn’t tell a soul. He knew he wouldn’t be taken seriously if he were to truly reveal that secret.

“Well well, look what the cat dragged in,” A voice spoke from Christopher’s left. He turned his head and a pit of disgust formed in his stomach.

“Radke. Good evening. Do you need something from me?” Chris asked, trying to remain polite.

Ronnie Radke. A vampire who was quite the opposite of Chris. Confrontational and cocky. He was rather full of himself too. He was one who enjoyed these auctions, always after new food.

“Yes, you can. Enlighten me. What the hell are you doing here?” Radke’s tone coming off rather nasty.

Chris scoffed, scanning his nails and not making eye contact with the other. “This is a universal event, no? All vampires are welcome to attend.”

“No one expected Mr. Gloom and Doom shadow boy to show, that’s all. Now, answer me. What business do you have here?” Ronnie said in an almost spiteful tone.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Chris said casually. That seemed to annoy Ronnie.

Christopher knew better than to indulge Ronnie in his business. He had always been one to put his nose where it didn’t belong.

“Lighten up, will you? I was only joking with you!”

“Who said I was offended?” Christopher’s tone was cool as he glanced over to see a fuming Ronnie.

“Have some wine, it’ll put you at ease.” Ronnie offered a glass of red wine. Perhaps if Chris drank, he’d spill the beans. Yeah, that was a good plan to Ronnie!

“No thank you. I don’t drink.” Chris said, shaking his head. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my number.” Chris had turned away, and left to get his number, leaving Ronnie dumbfounded.

“Fucking weirdo..” Ronnie spat bitterly under his breath.

…………………………………………………………

Y/N’s POV

Todd and Elizabeth had dropped us off at the entrance, leaving to go chat with other guests. They said to make sure we were in the holding room by 9:30 pm.

The only thing is…they didn’t tell us where exactly this holding room was..

The girls and I decided to split up and look for the room, it would take less time that way. At least…it seemed that way at first.

The building was huge! It felt like I was walking for ages with all the different rooms and hallways. There were so many people there. It almost made me feel claustrophobic.

It didn’t help that I could feel people staring at me. It was such an uncomfortable feeling. Their gazes were strong, some were even licking their lips. I knew who they were, and they knew who I was. The tension could be cut with a knife.

And now, I was lost.

Shit.

I looked at my watch to see the time.

9:21

Oh no…

I started running, hoping that whatever room I’d see would be the holding room.

I was running so quickly that I bumped into somebody. He turned quickly and grabbed my wrists, steadying me.

“Careful now, baby. Don’t want to get hurt now, do you?” He spoke.

Baby? What the fuck…

Whoever this was, he was already making my skin crawl.

“I-I’m so sorry!” I stuttered, feeling heat rush to my face from embarrassment. “I-I was just looking for the holding room..”

He raised a brow, “The holding room? That’s just a few doors down from here on the right.”

I let out a sigh of relief. I was close, thank god. “Okay, what a relief. Thank you!” I said, trying to release my wrists from his grip so I could leave. He wouldn’t let go.

“And where are you off to in such a rush? You’re not going to thank me properly? How rude..” He said, sounding offended.

“L-listen, I have to be in that room in a few minutes, I said thank you, so please let me go.” I pleaded, still trying to free myself. His grip only seemed to tighten.

“You really should be thanking me, you know. I saved you from falling AND told you where to go. You’re lucky I didn’t humiliate you for almost knocking over a vampire..”

Fuck, he was a vampire. I was screwed. I could feel myself shaking a bit. He seemed to enjoy my fear.

“You have a few minutes anyway, that’s plenty of time to repay me.” He lowered his head, his face getting closer to my neck.

“No, stop! Let me go!” I shouted, moving around and squirming as much as possible to try and break free. He was too strong.

His head was now below my own. His nose brushed against the skin of my neck, taking in my scent. I could feel his smirk against my neck. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart. This is what you humans were made for anyway. Now why don’t you be a good girl for me and-“

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but all vampires are prohibited from drinking human blood before the auctions, Radke.” A voice interrupted from behind.

A taller man stood behind us, crossing his arms. His hair was ink black and his skin was pale. His dark brown eyes scanned the other man as he held a calm yet smug look on his face. He was rather attractive..

“I’m in the middle of something, shadow boy. Do you mind?” The other sneered, glaring daggers.

“Huh, breaking the rules. Sounds like something you enjoy doing. However, I figured you’d know better than that considering you’ve attended more of these auctions than I have.” The taller one retorted. My attacker scoffed and let go of me.

“Tch. Making me miss out on a good meal..” He grumbled, storming away and leaving me alone with the black haired stranger.

“Are you alright?” He asked, approaching me as I rubbed my wrists.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little shocked. Thank you.” I said, smiling shyly.

“No worries. Radke has always been a pain in the ass to everyone.” He said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s a good thing you came when you did…I thought for sure he was going to kill me or something..” I said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of my neck.

“I wasn’t going to let that creep hurt such a pretty little thing such as yourself. You were only trying to get by. I swear, that man is always looking for trouble.” I blushed at his words, he was quite charming.“You were in quite a rush a few moments ago. Heading anywhere important?” He asked.

“I was heading towards the holding room…my parents are expecting me to be there at 9:30.”

“I see. Well, I’m sorry you were treated in such a way by that fool.” He said, shaking his head as if he were disgusted by the other man’s actions.

“No, don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault. I’m grateful you interrupted him.” I said, giving him a smile. He gave me a small smile in return, and I felt butterflies. He had such a pretty smile..

“You’re a kind girl.” He said before glancing at his watch. “I won’t hold you any longer as we both have places to be.”

Oh crap, I had forgotten to check the time!

9:26…

Uh-oh.

“Crap! I’m going to be late!” I said, panicking. “Thank you again for your help! It was lovely to meet you! Goodbye!” I said quickly, turning to walk away.

“Be safe, little dove.” He said softly.

Little dove…

I liked that.

“I will, thank you again!”

“Oh, one more thing..” The man said, catching my attention. I stopped in my tracks to look at him. “That’s a lovely shade of purple on you, darling.”

#motionless in white #miw #miw band #motionless in white x reader #x reader #fluff #miw fanfic #fanfiction #chris motionless #motionless in white fanfiction #chris cerulli x reader #chris motionless x reader #chris motionless fanfic #christopher cerulli #chris cerulli #Chris motionless fanfiction #vampire au #vampire #ronnie radke #angst

[millerscoffee]

there's no such thing as good grief

1k | joel miller x reader

rating: G, i guess

warning: grief, parental loss, mentions of sarah and ellie, halloween, porch swinging, hand holding, soft!joel, joel is a guardian angel tbh. no use of y/n

A/N: this is a little self indulgent, i suppose. but i needed to write, i haven't written in, what, a month? and i wanted to oil the wheel. it's probably not the best, i kinda halfway proofread it, but that's okay. who better to navigate grief with than joel "the grief ain't good™️" miller? thanks for being cool about it.

Leaves of trees change colour before they shrivel and descend to the ground.

That’s just how life works.

That’s how it’s supposed to happen. And it was in Jackson.

It surprised you, even still, that in the depths of despair within humanity, traditions were so closely held to the chests of those still alive and willing to stoke its embers.

It’s dusk.  The town’s children in makeshift costumes or ones from long ago in tattered material.  You think about her, your mother.  Halloween was never her particular favourite, but she had a soft spot for a sweet treat.  You buried her on this day.  Sometimes it’s easier than others.  Today it’s hard.

You’re on your porch, and your light is on.  The town made different types of toys for the kids of the community, you laid yours out on the porch.

For the most part, you’re okay.  It’s been long enough now that your mother’s death wasn’t always the first thing you thought of every year.  But it’s in the things that catch you off guard.  A child giggling with her mother over a toy that looked silly.

It’s simple.  It’s sweet.  It makes you nauseous.

You’re swaying in your porch swing, staring off into the distance when you hear the heavy boots of someone familiar.  It shows up before his voice.

“Y’alright?”

If you weren’t so numb, you’d be startled.  Instead, your eyes shift up to the man who you know well enough by now to come up on your porch without permission.

You could nod.  You could pretend you are okay and have him pull it out of you until the truth pours freely from your mouth, but what’s the point?  Why hide it?  There had been so much of your life that was dappled in pretending to be okay, whether it was self-preservation, or sheer obstinacy to admit it.

You didn’t have it in you.

Instead, you pat the spot next to you with a shrug.

“Been better.”

Joel liked that you were honest.  Not that it mattered, not that he was here to praise you for exposing vulnerable parts of yourself to him.  At least not like this.  It was far removed from his intentions.  He knew you had someone in your life that you had to bury, and he understood what that meant.

Grief lain with you both as he took place beside you.

His warmth, overcoming, radiating into your bones.

Swallowing on the knots in your throat, you nudge your knee against his and it’s natural.

You don’t know how it became so fucking natural.

You’d kept your distance from each other for so long.  It seemed appropriate.  No real reason to encounter each other, but one day you noticed Joel rubbing his chest.  A telltale sign that you knew well.  After that, you’d become inseparable to some extent, though never quite tiptoeing any major lines.  He had your back, and you had his.  It felt nice to be around someone so protective.  And, god, did he feel that way with you.

As if life itself had been kickstarted into his system from years of feeling like a zombie.

All the same, you didn’t have to explain yourself to him to know what you mean.

“Yeah,” Joel pauses, his heel taking over the rocking motion, back and forth on the seat you share. “Hard for me, too.  Y’need anything?”

Your chin turns to gaze at him.  It was hard for him, too.  You imagined how difficult it was to see children with their dad.  At least he had Ellie, but even she needed her space from all this.

You focus on his side profile, the scar that remains as a reminder to the life he had before this horrible reality.

Then again, the horrible reality happened when he held Sarah’s dying body in his arms.

It sends a chill through you, your fingers instinctively running into the bear paw that was his hand.  Rough and calloused, yet so open and willing to take yours.

Dichotomous.

As some sort of clairvoyant, he welcomes you, knowing the conversation could be said without words.

“Nuh uh.”

Just this, you want to say.

The gravel catches your throat now, but tears don’t tempt as readily as they used to.  Call it being hardened, call it time.  Grief wasn’t linear, but this year had a particular sting.

That’s about the time a child and her mother come up to trick or treat for one of the toys you’ve made.  And although a smile appears on your face, Joel can see the sadness at the corners of your eyes.  He waits to speak until they leave.

“Opposite ends of the same coin, I guess.”

You puff out an unamused laugh, gaze cast at your lap.

“Something like that,” chewing the corner of your cheek, he squeezes your fingers when you look up at him.  “It doesn’t get easier, does it?”

Joel stops the porch swing, his eyes soft but dark – as if he’s going over what he’s had to replay in his head for so many years.

“What do you think?”  He echoes quietly, enough to cause you to turn and face him.

“I think… I’m glad you stopped by.  I think it’s very thoughtful of you to check on me.”

“Alright, she’s gone soft,” a small smile piles at the corner of his face, and you mirror it.  Hard not to.  A tear falls at both of your ability to find a crack of light.

“Don’t get used to it.”

Joel exhales in amusement, rocking the two of you again.  Eyes close for a minute against the crisp air of autumn.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

It’s quiet for a while after that.  Your head rests on his shoulder.  His scent brings you comfort.  You don’t hardly realise all the kids and their parents as they make it home.

“...Joel?”

“You’d do the same for me.”

“Will you let me thank you?”

Joel turns his head, burying his nose in your hair.

“This is enough,” squeezing your fingers, he presses a tentative kiss to your temple.  One without a scar, but a temple with trouble behind it, nonetheless.  “It’s more than enough.”

How could you argue with that?

taglist, comment to be added: @cool-iguana @livingdeadmaria @sinfulrock @jasminedragoon @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @scarletthefierce @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @poodlebae @its-nebuleuse @harrieandharassed @msmorningstaarr

#joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #soft!joel #soft!joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x afab!reader #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #joel tlou #tlou #the last of us hbo #joel the last of us #joel miller #pedro pascal #by bee

[lilithliliam]

My quiet haven

Warnings: Yandere themes. Teacher/student relationship. Obsessive and possessive behavior. There is no bloodthirstiness, there is no theme of death. Manipulation and pressure. The reader is a virgin. NSFW. Jealousy.

The reader is studying with Gojo temporarily, cause she don't plan to be a sorceress. The reader is 18 years old. She must learn to use her power, which is why she came to study in Tokyo.

It’s hard to imagine a Gojo who loves someone very much, let alone Yandere Gojo, but it turns out that this can happen. Where did it all start? Gojo is not particularly interested in people, to be honest, but he really loves and cares about his students. About all of them without exception, but recently he began to notice that he devotes much more time and attention to one of his students than to others, and is it even possible to blame him for this. After all, she, his student, is the very embodiment of femininity, beauty and kindness. She's not like everyone else, she's not angry at him for his childish nature, she doesn't think he's arrogant, or she doesn't have a stupid crush on him. She always seemed to be able to somehow read his emotions. He could say that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him, that his mission had been more successful than ever, that he was not tired at all, but she could understand how he felt just by looking once. When all his students left, she approached him and asked about his well-being, whether he was tired, whether he was accidentally injured. Did he need anything? And she asked with such genuine concern that Satoru involuntarily felt something in his chest - was moving. At first, he brushed off her questions, not wanting to pester her with his problems, but then he didn’t even understand how he began to open up. In one of the most vulnerable moments, when she was the only one who realized that something was wrong with him, with the strongest. She just came up and despite all the assurances that everything was fine, she hugged him tightly. As tightly as she could. She told him not to hide his feelings, because we all are people. He is a human after all. No matter how strong he is, he is still a person who is no stranger to pain, fatigue and suffering. And this is not something to be ashamed of.

"I can't even imagine the heavy burden you carry every day, sensei ,but please don't carry it alone. Whenever you need, whenever you feel alone, I will always be here for you. I can hardly help a lot, but I can listen to you. And no matter what you say, it will always remain between us,” she told him.

She hugged him, pressing his head to her chest and stroking his hair. She whispered various soothing things. And he...just melted like plasticine in her wonderful hands. He felt like a lonely abandoned child who had finally found shelter, a warm home. That day he himself did not understand how he fell asleep. But he slept well then. And then the germ of interest that he experienced in her even at the first meeting grew into true love. He didn't care that she was his student, that she was younger. She will only study for a year and she is already 18. He has been single for so many years that who cares about her age or the family she comes from. Gojo knew that he had earned himself at least one happiness in life and he was going to take care of its safety.

She was kind in character in general. She was kind to everyone, from a small bug on the sidewalk which she picked up and planted on a nearby flower so that it would not be given away, to the janitor for whom she bought coffee in a very cold time, knowing that he would probably frozen And of course she was kind to her classmates. She cared, but not too persistently, for Megumi, hugged and supported Itadori, saying that even though he is a vessel of Sukuna, this doesn't mean that he is bad. She listened and gave advice to Nobara and went shopping with her. She calmed down and even prepared Nanami’s favorite bread and sandwiches, who, by the way, also doted on her. She became the soul and the bright sun of their entire company. And Gojo was fine with this for the time being.

However, over time, he became even more clingy than before. He began to constantly demand her attention. Her worries. If she devoted time to someone else, he would create scandals and hysterics. When he finished his missions, the first thing he did was rush to her and showed off like a kid. And she smiled and praised. Thanked him for his hard work. Prepared sweets or other food for him just because knew that after the mission he would probably want to eat something. And he could sit all night with her in the living room or in her room, eating sweets or chips and watching some movie. He would constantly cry at the sad moments and laugh out loud at the funny ones, but one thing was invariable: he would either lie on her chest or on her lap while she instinctively stroked his hair. When she was once enthusiastically reading some book, he became hysterical like a child and threw it somewhere, while refusing to look at her, and childishly pouting his lip, showing that he was the victim here. At first she was indignant, but then, instead of to reprimand him, she sighed quietly and opened her arms, where he immediately rushed, forgetting about his offense because she forgot about him for THREE WHOLE MINUTES!

Her classmates also noticed Gojo’s strange attitude towards her, but she brushed it off and said that he was like a big baby or a living teddy bear and that he needed to be cuddled and cherished, otherwise he would behave completely capriciously. They didn't approve of this, but seeing how happy Gojo was they couldn't resist. She noticed that his actions were strange at times, but she convinced herself that Gojo was very lonely. She understood the burden people had placed on him since his birth. How they don't let him be normal. And his childish behavior was justified by the lack of a normal childhood before. Seeing one day how bad he really was, she decided that at least she could understand him, not put pressure on him, could become his quiet haven where he could come to rest. She wanted nothing more than for her mentors Gojo and Nanami to finally be able relax and do what you really want. One day Gojo felt that he was ready to completely open up to her. He told everything that was in his heart. About his best friend Geto, who betrayed him to the point of taking his life himself. He expected contempt in her eyes, although he understood that she was not that kind of girl, but he was afraid of her reaction. But she smiled softly and said that it was probably hard for him. And that she understood him. She feels sorry for his friend, she feels sorry for that girl. But the past cannot be changed. If Geto was his best friend, then he understands his actions and does not hold a grudge against him, so Satoru should also forgive himself: she told him. He first smiled and then...cried. He cried in her lap as she stroked his hair in an attempt to calm him down. He calmed down and he and she even agreed to visit Geto’s grave together next time. It would seem that everything was fine. Everyone was happy. Gojo has finally found his soul mate. A person ready to accept him. Here she is, the perfect girl. Strong, albeit weaker than him, beautiful, although not more beautiful than him(joke). But something is still wrong. He looks at her communicating with Yuji and Nanami and something strange stirs in his chest. He watches carefully as she hands a basket, probably with food, into Nanami's hands. After all, Gojo himself saw how she prepared him and suddenly realizes. Oh yes, exactly. This feeling is called... anxiety. No no. Jealousy. No... uncertainty? No, stupidity. So that Satoru Gojo himself, the strongest magician, feels insecure? Nonsense. But deep down he is afraid that she does not feel the same, that she might choose someone younger, like Yuji, someone more responsible like Nanami. But he's not going to give up. He's lost enough people and he's not going to lose any more. He knows for sure that he doesn't want her to care about anyone else. Especially about Nanami. After all, after so much time spent with her, it seems that she did not look at him differently, although Satoru tried to look after her. He gave her sweets, put flowers in her room, or if she was just walking, he appeared out of nowhere and dragged her to the nearest cafe to try a new food, but apparently this was not enough. So Gojo decided to act more decisively. And show her intentions, because even if she guessed about his feelings, she tried not to pay attention to it.

Gojo had hugged her before, like all his students, but now his hugs became more frequent, lower and more intimate? Although she felt that something was wrong, she tried to blame it on paranoia. When she was cooking, he could hug her and put his head on her shoulder and inhale the smell of her hair. One day, when she was eating candy that he bought her, for some reason in the shape of a heart, he asked how it tasted. She says it’s very tasty and he took the candy she bit and ate it, closing his eyes in satisfaction. One day he took her phone to check the time, but then when she took her phone again, on the lock screen there was a photo of them that they took with everyone, but only... the rest of the participants were cut out and only him and Gojo remained. By the way, he put the same photo on his phone. She also noticed that next to his contact there was now a red heart. And sometimes she woke up in the morning with a heaviness on her stomach and when she opened her eyes, she found a sleeping Gojo who was hugging her tightly, trying to fit on her bed. Slowly but surely he became a part of her life, her social circle, slowly and surely filling her entire world. One day, while walking in a store, he offered her to buy “mochi” in the shape of a heart, which were sold for Valentine’s Day, to which she quite logically replied:

-But, Gojo sensei, this is for couples

“Well, yes, we’re dating so what’s the problem here,” he told her as if nothing had happened.

-I love you, you love me and...call me Satoru-sama now, right? She was numb for a minute, not knowing how to refuse him, and he, of course, took advantage of this.

-You take care of me, cook for me, hug me, comfort me. This of course means that you like me as much as I like you. And you will not leave me like everyone else. Don't hurt my feelings. Well, of course, and how can you not love me.I’m so charming,

- he said, knowing that he was manipulating her, leaving her no choice, but he didn’t care. She was his and no one, not even she herself, could change that.

And she, in turn, thought: This is the first time that Gojo is truly happy, it took so much time to heal his wounds, but she won’t open his wounds again and leave new ones? How can she do this to him? Yes, and she must admit that over time she herself began to have feelings for him. It’s hardly pity, rather admiration along with the desire to care. The maternal instinct must be making itself felt, because he's like real child (or maybe it’s just a skillful manipulation by Satoru) So she decided that why not. She will give him a chance.And she did not quite confidently confirm the fact of their relationship, and Satoru was not even shy about rare people in the store, and kissed her right there, because he had been craving this for so long.

As for intimate matters, everything is simple. His beloved is 18 years old, in fact, she is not even his student, and Gojo also has his own... needs. Therefore, he probably won’t want to wait, or give her time to prepare for this mentally. He will gently hint to her by saying something like:

"Hey hey, a wonderful day to lose your virginity, don't you think?"

Or

"How is my favorite virgin doing?"

He constantly kisses her on the lips and moves lower. Will constantly touch her. And one day he will invite her to his house to watch a film. But she felt how it would end, after all, it was Satoru. He almost directly stated that he wanted her. Before she had time to enter his apartment, he was already heart-rendingly and greedily kissing her lips. Lifting her by the ass, he carried her onto the bed while crushing the fat of her ass. Climbing on top of her, he kissed her as if he wanted her to choke on either his tongue or his saliva. While his long, muscular arms explored her entire body, hastily ridding her of her clothes. Having finished with the kiss, leaving a thread of their common saliva on her lips that dripped onto her bare collarbones, he kissed lower. Frantically kissing the beads of her hardened nipples and putting one in his mouth, he began to suck, twisting it around his tongue, causing a series of moans from his beloved. He barely looked away from her soft and elastic breasts and began to look at her greedily, God, how he wanted to take a picture of her now, it was just a pornographic look. He wanted to remember this for the rest of his life. But this was her first time, he had to be softer and more gentle and please her first, and then himself. He sank lower, from her navel, sunken tummy to her femininity and she screamed. Her whole body arched and she pulled Gojo's head closer to her peak and Gojo moaned out loud.

She wriggled like a snake, simultaneously dropping sweet moans that gave him an incentive to move on. He greedily sucked, licked and even stuck his nimble tongue into her, stimulating places that she probably didn’t even know existed. Using his thumb, stroking and occasionally rubbing her clitoris or alternating it with his tongue, and inserting first one then a second finger into her, he quickly brought her to the peak and she moaned loudly and protractedly. He stood up and took off his T-shirt as he walked, wiping his wet mouth and face with it.

"Damn, damn baby. This is the best thing I've ever eaten. I wish you would give me this instead of the usual tomorrow and dinner, baby," he told her.

While she was trying to recover from a violent orgasm, he unzipped his pants and hastily stayed in his boxers, wet from his own secretions, in which his erect penis could be clearly seen. He desperately needed to be in her. He seemed ready to cum now if she just touched him.

She felt something hard and smooth sliding along her wet folds, occasionally touching her clitoris, causing a new wave of goosebumps and moans. Then slowly, as slowly as he could, testing all his patience, Gojo began to enter her. She seemed to suffocate from the feeling of being so stretched and full, something strange was tickling her stomach from the inside.

Now it was real torture for him not to move. It was incredibly tight, hot and very humid! The vaginal muscles tightly wrapped around the penis. The heat that came from them was driving them crazy, prompting them to immediately start moving. But he couldn't afford to be rude, not with her!

He bows his head in a gentle kiss, pulls out of her slightly, and makes a careful push back.

For the first time, a girl feels the movements of a man inside her.

She clasps her hands behind his neck. She doesn’t yet understand how she feels.

Another soft, not strong, deep push. He barely comes out of her before entering again to the end, as if he is rocking the two of them on the waves.

Her quiet moan escapes directly into his lips, breaking the kiss.

Tries the amplitude a little more. So wet that he easily slides in it, feeling the pleasant friction of the sensitive organ.

He told himself that he shouldn't lose patience, that he should be gentle, but... God, he couldn't do it anymore. It felt like heaven, like pure bliss, like a drug in its purest form.

Her pussy was warm, tight, reactive and wet - it was everything he had dreamed of and more.

He tried to be soft, tried to be slow, but hearing her meow and whimper he lost all remnants of willpower and self-control. He set a leisurely rhythm, simultaneously comforting her with sweet words, saying how well she was doing, how great she was and how well she accepted him. Just be patient, okay, is it okay for me, baby? “Be patient with love,” he whispered to her, but he himself seemed about to go crazy.

-Darling, my love, I just want to make you feel good? Okay?

Trying to distract himself and distract her from the unpleasant sensations of stretching, he kissed her cheeks, ears and her sensitive neck.

Surrendering to his tender kisses, she forgot about the pain and completely relaxed.

-It's okay, I'm okay.

-Are you sure honey, damn... say yes

To which she nodded and smiled. And he couldn't stand it anymore. Spreading her legs wide and pressing them to her chest, he began to quickly and hard enter her, his snow-white, coarse pubic hair and the slapping of his pelvis causing additional friction, stimulating her clitoris, bringing her to the edge. Quick thrusts that quickly spread her apart causing her to open up and make room for him inside, stretching her walls and letting them mold to the shape of his cock.

She arches her back, groaning protractedly. Clings to Satoru's shoulders, maintaining his balance. Gojo grabs her throat with his wet palm, speeding up the rhythm.

There is a catastrophic shortage of air. She moans loudly in her lover's ear, squeezing his hair with her palm.

She feels intoxicated already from the sounds he makes. A primal, deep growl emanates from his chest as he looks down to where you are both connected in heart and soul. Forever and ever... He makes his way inside of you, taking pleasure in your whines and squeals and pitiful meows.

-Go-jo ah, more, nhh I want

-Yes Yes Yes, baby. Let's.Do it. Do. You can my darling.

A pleasant spasm tightens in the lower abdomen. She whines, resting her forehead on the man's neck. A shiver runs through my body. The heartbeat quickens, the head is spinning. She clenches inside and moans loudly.

A powerful orgasm breaks through her body, she closes her eyes to white spots, sinking her teeth into Satoru’s neck.

Her second orgasm was more intense than the first, her cunt throbbing around his cock as pleasure pierced her with outstretched claws, ravaging every part of her.

He groaned. "I'm feeling it. You're squeezing my... oh... I'm going to, damn nhhhh.

His body was on fire, pleasure coursing through every nerve as he continued to fuck your quivering pussy, the lewd wet slaps of flesh on flesh accompanying his wanton, wild moans.

-I'm here, almost. Me too. Babe. Babe. Babe.

He screamed as if in a fit and then moved again, then again and again until the white pearls of sperm stained her insides. He waited a little longer, a heavy exhalation escaping his lips, dripping from his forehead, nose and hair. And then he collapsed exhaustedly on top of her, without leaving her. Remembering that he actually rolled heavily to one side and laid her on his chest, trying to even out his breathing. He stroked her hair and gave her a short laugh, kissing her on the top of her head.

-It was, it was... indescribable. You're so good... for...me

He whispered to her various nonsense, words of love, promises. Until felt that she was sleeping.

-Good night, my not virgin. He whispered in her ear, admiring her peaceful, sleeping face with red cheeks and rejoicing at his victory and understanding what it means to be happy. He felt happier than ever. Felt peace, tranquility and tranquility.

He finally found his man, his home. Your own quiet haven. And now no one will dare to encroach on him, no one will dare even look at her. She is his. He branded her, made her completely his, and soon he will build a house for them. He will put her there, he will admire her for hours, he will be the only one, he will teach her himself. He will make her a child, marry her. Don’t want to share her with a child, but it’s better than some Nanami. Let Kento look for another. After all, she is... only his Quiet Haven.

I don't own this arts

#gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo sensei #yandere #yandere gojo #jjk yandere #teacher crush #sensei gojo #jujutsu kaisen #sorcery fight

[ressonancee]

Retrouvaille

✦ You and Minghao have always been friends and remained friends despite of different countries, different time zones, and lives, but now, you and him are back in the same city.

✦ genre: friends to lovers, fluff, just really idiots in love ✦ word count: 3.652

✦ Thea note: hello hello hello, first this is part of @sunnylovespickles september candy land! This was a struggle tobe honest, I started writting this before my exam and this month was so hectic that I just had the time to really sit and write this one, but in the end I think she is nice, she is cute. Also, second Minghao fic in a very short time, who saw that coming? not me!

Retrouvaille; the joy of being reunited with someone again after a long time apart

It was funny how constant variables changed. 

Minghao, once upon a time, was a constant - never changing, always there. He was your everything, your friend, your first love, and again your friend. When you think about Minghao the picture that pops up in your mind is vast forests in a mountain. Always there, never changing. 

But life, you learned, had its own way of making people drift apart. To make constants turn into a very new set of variables. You and Minghao remained friends even if life tried to make it hard. Different countries, weird timezones, messages that needed a couple of business days to be answered. In reality, you thought, it was just the two of you growing up, and you couldn't be sad about it because, in the end, the physical distance was what made your dreams turn into reality. 

But for the first time after five years, you and Minghao would be in the very same city, in the very same time zone, sharing the very same air. 

And somehow that scared you because- what if?

What if Minghao grew and changed even if you two were still friends and talked weekly? What if you changed?

Oh god, that was even worse - you almost needed to park your car to try to calm yourself.  What if you changed and Minghao didn't like the person you turned into? What if the endless messages, video calls, and Zoom movie dates weren't enough? Could you - could you just hide and leave Minghao alone in a completely different city he has never been into? Did he have your address? How high was the probability of him knocking on your door because you didn't pick him up? 

Every possible result of the equation sounded pretty distressing, so you just didn't stop even though you wished to drive to another state you settled for the airport. But the feeling of uncertainty didn't leave you in the airport, and didn't leave you when you saw Minghao passing through the gates in his all-black outfit - well at least he still loved his clothes, that remained unchanged.

"Hao," you call, waving your arm and stretching your whole body to call his attention. 

And when Minghao looked at you and smiled you felt that everything would be okay. 

Even if you changed, even if his changed, even if the world around the both of you changed - the street name, the culture, the places, the smell, and the sounds, it would be okay because it would be you and Minghao, and that itself was never changing. 

Because you knew that if everything changed what you've built with him in the past couldn't - your memories would remain.

"Well," Minghao says finally in front of you, his hair is longer now, he has one more earring, but he is still Hao, your favorite human, your friend. "What a warm welcome."

"I thought about writing a poster saying welcome home cheater but I thought you would kill me for the public shame." You say looking at him, thinking if it is possible to just be a dream, if it could be just something your mind wanted so badly that you thought it was real.

"I would jump in the first plane back," Minghao says, almost eye-rolling at you. 

"Okay, this is weird isn't it?" You say, body going back and forth but not changing places, not taking the first step.

"No, it isn't. Come on," Minghao says, opening his arms, "it will only be weird if you want to." He says in his voice low, like he is sharing a secret which makes you laugh before you find comfort in his arms.

You think it will be okay, it won't be weird because you don't want it to be. You think it will be okay because the way Minghao hugs you is the very same as he did back then because even the way Minghao smells is the same. After all is Minghao and everything is okay when he is by your side.

"I really missed you," you say - because is the truth. 

"I really really missed you," you can hear Minghao's voice still soft, still telling you a secret that only you know, a tiny bit of him that is only yours. And you don't doubt it.

"Ok, ok," You say taking a step back, a physical distance to not get overwhelmed by his physical presence, "how are we feeling? good to go running around or just straight home and delivery?"

"Straight home, a good shower, and a delivery?" Minghao says putting his hand around your shoulders and walking guiding you around like he knows the airport like the back of his hand, so you do what you need - hold his hand and tuggle him in the other direction. 

"What do you want? Greasy food or?"

"Yeah," Minghao says struggling with his suitcase, but still slapping your hand away when you try to get his suitcase.  "we can have something like that if you promise we eat like human beings in the next couple of days."

"Can't promise that, still very much of a coffee addicted but now I also dabble in sugar highs," you say knowing that Minghao will lecture you at some point about how that is not healthy and how you also need to do yoga or physiotherapy for you back pains - he always did that, he always ranted about how you should take more care of yourself.

"Oh fuck, we need at least one proper meal per day, for health reasons, or else I will perish under your way of life," Minghao says stopping on his track in the middle of the airport, making you laugh, god you could feel it in your belly how happy he always made you feel. 

"Nah, you will survive Hao, I am even including salad in my diet," you say - smiling when Minghao’s reaction is just rolling his eye at you.

Yeah. Things seem pretty similar so far. 

On your drive back home you show him different places that Minghao may seem interested in; a museum, a coffee shop, a gallery that you know the owner and he always sends his client on your way for restorations, a restaurant, even a furniture studio that you know the owner - you point out that Joshua promised teaching you so maybe that would be fun.

When you finally arrive you two follow your plan - shower and delivery, but before that Minghao comments on a thing or two in your house; a pretty plant, or a painting. He also may have pointed out that you have a pile of clothes in a chair, you explain that to be fair it is clean clothes that you need to put out but the only free time you had this week was right before going to the airport - you scream in the kitchen while he heads to the bathroom like an old couple - the familiarity of the years very clear in the way that Hao’s screams in the bathroom that he wants fried chicken and something to drink, a beer or two. 

“This place is great,” Minghao says trying his best to dry his hair with the towel, leaving droplets all around the living room. 

“Hao for the love of god dry your hair in the bathroom,” you complain, “but yeah, the place is great and not that expensive and very close to the studio so jackpot really.”

"Or your studio is in the neighborhood right?" Minghao says leaving the room. 

“Yeah, it is really close. By the way, when it will be your interview?” you say turning the tv on and splaying yourself on the couch. “I can take you to the museum is not really that far if you get the job we can-”

“Don’t jinx it!” Minghao screams from the other room, probably hanging his towel. “We talked about it, we want it too much, let's just not think about it but of course, I want the ride or I can Uber it, is not really a hassle."

"Is not jinxing I was just thinking about how cool would be," you try, but Minghao knows you better than you know yourself really, he knows how you build big fantasy castles in your head, how you take a leap bigger than your legs can take, how you run way too ahead with a simple prospect, and how in the end when things don’t go your own way the downfall is way harder than it should be - not only the reality is crushed but all your dreams and fantasy too. 

"Yeah and giving both of us anxiety, let's pretend I didn't get it and we are just having a great time because I'm visiting," Minghao says sitting on your side, like he is extremely exhausted, his hair falling on his face. 

"Oh but I do have a great time when I am with you. I don't need to pretend,” you say giving Minghao your best smile because it is the truth, and because it is Minghao, and because you are indeed the happiest you have ever been.

"That's not what I meant," he says mirroring your smile, “that is a given, stop being a smartass.”

And you feel warm like it is a physical reaction to your happiness across your body. In a weird way, you know Minghao feels just the same. In a way that familiarity, that certainty, is what helps you to anchor yourself in the moment, to make you feel grounded. You wish you could stop the time - that weird image of Minghao on your sofa, in your house, in your new city, in your life. You know you will cherish that moment for a long time, the image of Minghao in clothes way too big for him, some of his nails are chapped, you are sure that he took off his earrings because of airport security and didn’t really bother to put it after it. 

That weird want, the desire to stop time remains with you every time you look at him, it happens in that coffee near your house, the very same coffee that you did online dates with Minghao, sometimes you would bring your drawing supplies and just chat the whole afternoon while Minghao did some house chores. Seeing him in that coffee makes you almost pinch yourself to see if it is real. When Minghao points that out, that he recognizes the printing on the wall, or that he remembers that you painted the view from the windows you wish you could hold that moment and put it into a bottle, maybe you could send it as a message for your future self when that moment don’t exist anymore.

You wish you could cherish every little moment. Cherish the walks in the park, and cherish the supermarket trips at the end of the day whenever Minghao was too bored. 

In a way you find new things about Minghao, the way that he is more organized even tho he sucks at drying his hair without wetting the whole floor. And the fact that he is so invested in fashion that he always finds something to try on on a random trip, or that everything turns into a reference for his work. But Minghao every now and then makes you remember that your friend was there and no matter how many months or years apart, he would still be there. Unchanged. 

It was the way that he always made sure he brought his favorite tea, or the way that he always filled you a cup as well without even asking. It was the way that he always tilts his phone so you can watch the silly video on repeat or the way that he always lends his coat to you because you always fucking forget to take one, and sometimes you also leave it in places like that time you only noticed when you arrived home and Minghao run to the restaurant to retrieve it before the restaurant closed. 

Or when Minghao remembered a silly thing that you said or did that you didn't ever recall anymore. Like when you dedicated an entire sketchbook for the butterflies collection of the museum.  

"Do you remember that?" you ask in disbelief, looking at Minghao, who still staring at the painting, his hands behind his back like an old man.

"Of course," Minghao says, finally looking at you, "I think I remember everything you ever loved. I think after you moved I kept a mental note on things that made you happy, the first few months were so hard for you that I always tried to remember everything that made you smile."

He tells you, the same way he tells you he brought fresh bread when he was out in his morning walking like his words don't make your heart beat faster or like his words don't make your knees buckle, that don't make you almost cry in the spot. But the only thing you can do is give him your best smile and keep that memory in a heart-shaped box in your brain. When Minghao gives you his best smile you know that the future doesn't scare you, because you already know one thing for certain, that you will love him no matter what. 

When Minghao`s phone rings and he excuses himself while you are fixing the lunch you know it is something important - it is the thing, it is what will dictate if you can take a leap in an unknown and different future. And the minutes that Minghao is on the phone you pace around the kitchen, almost burning the chicken. You can feel your heart beating against your chest, your hands sweating. But then Minghao pops up in the door, a shy smile on his face, and you know, you just know everything will be fine. 

"Did you get it?" You ask.

"Yeah, I got it," Minghao says giggling.

"What the fuck?" You say trying to understand what that means, how important and how everything will change from now on, but some will still be the same. "What the fuck Hao."

You say already jumping around and wrapping your arms against Minghao, and you are so happy that you are almost bursting. You can feel Minghao's arms against your body, but still, everything is so dreamlike that you ask yourself if you are real if this happened. Because if the present is so beautiful you are afraid to ever think about the future and be blinded by it. 

"We need to celebrate this oh my god," you say, trying to breathe even though Minghao's arms are holding you in place. "I have a bottle of wine or two. We are having a home party!"

When Minghao giggles and makes your heart triple the size it is you think you burn the chicken. In all fairness, you didn't, but the onions are another story, they already reached the charcoal-like look. And not even that makes you or Minghao stop smiling. While Minghao sets the table you bring out the wine - not the cheapest wine ever, but still not something utterly special. It is a market-bought wine, a mid-range price, it doesn't scream broken teenager but doesn't really scream special occasion either, but when you say that you can go buy a special and price wine bottle Minghao is against the idea. 

So you both share the bottle of cheap wine with a side dish of almost burnt chicken, and you suspect you might be the happiest person in the world. When you and Minghao sit on the sofa you can almost feel like you are floating, it is the wine - you say to yourself, but deep down you think it might be so happy you are starting to fill up like a goddamn balloon. 

"What?" you ask when you notice Minghao`s eye lingering on you.

"Nothing," he answers but his smile still plastered on his face, his lips tinted because of the wine that you shared.

"Come on, there is something, I know you, Hao," you press on, leaving your wine glass on the floor and sitting on the sofa, your back upright looking directly at him. 

"I-" he giggles, "I guess I am just happy," he says leaning his head to the side - his longer hair falling along, making you laugh and reach to tug his hair in his ear, digits softly running across his cheeks.

"Oh the cheap wine is doing its job," you tease, making your friend laugh. 

"It’s not even that bad," he whines and takes another sip of the wine trying to prove something. While Minghao is sipping on his wine you take the opportunity to lie down on the couch, your legs half off the sofa, and your chin resting on Minghao's sternum, his legs right by your side and it feels a little bit cramped in your tiny sofa but you don't mind. 

"Oh my God, you are a changed man, where is my friend?"

"Is it that weird to see me happy?" Minghao says and he is looking at you, eyes so bright you swear you can see little stars in it. 

"You know, is it not," you say, poking his ribs, even though the tiny space makes it hard to bother him like you want to, "I'm just deflecting because I don't want to talk about how happy I am and I feel silly."

"How happy are you?" He asks and you don't think you can put it into words. Sure you could try, but Minghao is wearing his biggest smile, and you know, deep down, that he is the only one who can understand you without words. You two always functioned like that, like words were not always needed. Your bond was always there, making every step of the way easier, and communication between you two didn't need a lot of words, you didn't need to explain something - Hao could read between your lines. 

 "Very very happy," you say because it is Minghao, he could understand beyond that. 

"Well, I am very glad and very happy as well," Minghao answers, kissing the top of your head.

"I missed you," you say against his clothes, face buried in his chest. 

"I know, me too."

You finally pick up your courage to look at Minghao, planting your hands on his chest and resting your chin on it. Minghao's digits are almost feather-like when he fixes your hair. 

The truth is that no place should be called home. No place comes close to Minghao's arms. No place comes close to his presence and the way that you feel engulfed in his warmth, in his smell, in the way that his low giggles hit your ear.

Minghao's fingers brush against the nape of your neck and you almost melt. If Minghao was the forest you would turn into a river that bends its way across it. 

You rub yourself against his hand, receiving a giggle again. 

"Are we doing this?" Minghao asks you.

And you know what he means.

You think you always did that, catch Minghao's thoughts when he throws it in the air.

And you want to say no. You want to say that you are afraid of change. You know that would change everything, that agreeing would mean saying yes to never going back - but in a way, you know it is already too late. 

You and Hao are already there, in that uncharted territory, in that gray zone. Things already changed, yet you are still the same way - warm in his arms, safe against all the odds, because deep down you know - the street name can change, the sound of the street can change, the smell of spring can change, the country and the continent, the words that go out of your own tongue and the words that dance in your ear can change.

And Minghao can too, he did change, he transformed, just like a forest that experiences the seasons can change, but yet, he remained the same - always there. 

When Minghao kisses you it is so tender that your heart feels full, beating against your chest. The feeling of having a new experience with something you have known for so long makes you so happy because it is Minghao and everything with him feels like home. Minghao, if you think about it, is the warmth of a cozy bed, Minghao is the safest place to fall. And even though you never kissed Minghao the feeling of knowing who he is makes everything feel very familiar - and yet it was something you never experienced before.

You never felt Minghaos’s hand cradling your face, Never once your breath was entangled with his like this. You never experienced this Minghao.

“I think it is long overdue,” you say when Minghao’s lips leave yours. “To be honest, I don’t know how we didn’t fuck it up sooner,” and that’s true because you lost count of all the times you thought about kissing Minghao.

“If we did it I don’t think it would be here,” Minghao says his fingers caressing the skin of your neck.

“Because we would hate each other,” and you know it is the truth, you and Minghao have always been tapping in that weirdly thin line, but never crossing it, always thinking about the most common outcome - fucking everything up. 

“I could never hate you,” Minghao says earnestly and you know it is true, you know because it is Minghao. 

“You know me, I am a little petty I could totally hate you,” Minghao’s laugh resonates and you are pretty sure you are the happiest person ever. 

“Can you, please, shut up for just a minute, I am trying to kiss you again,” and it is your time to laugh until Minghao’s hands hold your face and kiss you again. 

#septembercandyland #xu minghao fanifc #xu minghao fic #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #xu minghao fluff #seventeen fluff #t: xu minghao #t: writting #t: seventeen

[spdrvyn]

reader (an average human) is the owner of spider cat (who does not know the cat has spider abilities) and accidentally enters a portal into 2099 only to get in trouble with miguel for trespassing and it escalates into a brawl of who knows the cat more (this goes on for weeks) and eventually is resolved by a date and co-parenting the fur baby like its their child SOBS (ill let u the name the cat whatever u want it to be tbh)

tooth and claw — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: you love your cat more than anything else in the whole world, the whole multiverse possibly. however, your limits are tested when you find out that he's been hiding a huge secret from you.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: silliness. fluff. lotsa romance. a grown ass man tussling with a little cat. gender neutral reader.

NOTES: i love this request so much!!! i fucking love cats yo!!! sorry for getting to this request so late, but i hope you enjoy it anyway!!!!! not proofread because it is LATE as i post this but ya 🙏 this was so much longer than it needed to be holy SHIT

Pawker was a good kitty. Most of the time.

He was polite to you, in his own special little ways. While being a complete, irrevocable asshole to literally anybody else that just so happens to cross paths with him.

But at the same time, that's what you enjoyed so much about being his owner. He was special, loyal to you and you only. All the affections, purring, soothing pets were reserved for just you.

He also doesn't weirdly abide by regular cat law, he enjoys being groomed. At least, by you. He enjoys taking baths if you're in the tub, whenever you have to give him a nice bath every once in a while he'll always be patiently sitting still and giving you the cutest look ever as if he's expecting you to get in with him. It made your heart melt.

That's not what most of your family would think anyway, you still remember the messages of unmistaken horror that practically sent your phone vibrating off of your desk when your mom sent you picture after picture of her arms littered with scratch marks after she tried giving your precious cat a bath.

Whenever you had people over, it would be a challenge. Pawker would normally stay in one spot that seemed always designated for him while he tried to jump anyone that walked by, or he'd hide under the couch and you'd always have to pry him out, soothing him by placing him on your lap and giving him scratches on his ear while repeatedly apologizing to whoever you were talking to.

You still loved him all the same.

You've built your whole lifestyle around him, your sleep schedule could now be compared to that of a literal vampire because of how often Pawker would run around your now shared bedroom, accidentally knocking things over in his wake.

One time, you had passed out on your bed after an exhausting night of typing your soul away on your laptop that you had mistakenly left open from how tired you were. Pawker got zoomies, and you were spending money on a new laptop the next morning.

This night was no different, maybe a little as you were up by choice. The only part that really hadn't changed was Pawker's frantic zooms across the room, over your bed, bouncing off of your feet at the end of it. It made you giggle at the sight, he was so cute.

Your thumb was working hard, scrolling endlessly through the never-ending posts popping up on your social media. Watching people you barely knew live sad, cat-less lives unlike you who was blessed with this spawn sent from above made you feel better about having Pawker in your life.

It also made you sleepy apparently, your eyes growing heavy from looking at a screen for a concerning amount of time. You fall asleep with your phone still in your clutches, light snores sneaking past your mouth while Pawker still remains as lively as ever.

Weird dreams were also a common occurence for you. This time, you were falling. From a really great height, you've been thrown off by some villain that you couldn't recognize that was in a fight with your city's vigilante, Spider-Cat.

Spider-Cat let out a drawn-out meow when it caught sight of you being thrown off of the skyscraper, running to you on it's tiny four legs before falling off itself to catch you. It reaches out an itty bitty and a web shoots out, attaching to your chest however it doesn't break your fall as you hit the street of New York City with a hard, resounding, bloody—

You jolt awake, in a pool of your own sweat. Eyes blown wide, like you actually met your own demise on that street in your dream. Rubbing your temples, you groan. It was still relatively early in the morning, you could get a peek of the sky brightening up from your window but there was no sun. Not yet. It was too fucking early for this.

You set aside your phone on your bedside drawer, grabbing hold of your blanket, and getting ready to pass out again until you hear it.

Loud meows ringing in your ears, those familiar loud meows that keep you up at night. With a sigh, you throw your covers to the side and get up from the bed. Opening your door, you walk into the living room of your apartment, and are met with an unexpected sight.

Pawker— your Pawker— in Spider-Cat's get-up. His attention seemed to be drawn on something that he was wearing on his wrist, a tiny little watch that had a small hologram talking to him?

What the fuck was going on exactly?

"Pawker?" He jumped in place, turning his head back to you. The lenses of his mask, combined with his mouth contorting into a more than guilty expression. You put your hands on your hips, looking him up and down like a father who caught his son with a hand in the cookie jar.

"What are you doing? What's that?" You continued to question the fluffy fiend as if he could grow the ability to speak at any given moment. He hid this from you for so long, so who knows? Maybe there were other abilities that you just didn't know about.

Step-by-step, you slowly approached Pawker. Ready to scoop him up into your arms and rip that watch off of his cutesy little paws, his ears move to what you're used to calling 'airplane ears', which means he's ready to fight you. Challenge accepted then.

Before you could even think of snatching him up, Pawker manages to somehow press a few buttons on that goober of his and it opens up–

A portal?!

A portal that he looks like he's about to jump through and he does, "Pawker, wait!" You yell out, but no. You're just met with a dizzying array of colors from the portal, and the miscellaneous items in your home floating all around you.

Where was your cat even going? You wanted to follow him so badly, see wherever this thing took you, but there's a chance that without that gadget he had on his wrist that it wasn't safe for you to do that at all. Maybe you'd lose Pawker forever at this point.

No, no. You were not going to lose your cat. Even if it meant hopping from portal to portal, from dystopian landscape to dystopian landscape to do so. You were going to get that fucking kitty back.

You jump in without a second thought, your only motivations were getting your vigilante feline back even if it's with a fight.

Your first impressions of traversing the multiverse were a lot more different than what you experienced in reality. Instead of ending up instantly in the dimension that Pawker had went to, you were flown straight into what appeared to be a tunnel?

You'd look around aimlessly as you continued to be surged through this strange pathway, a burst of pain shoots through every single part of your body, and it feels like you're dying and being resurrected all at the same time. It was madness.

There was so much going on, in the distance you could see webs strung together like they were all connecting somehow. Octagons it looked like you were flying through, but it all passes quickly once you're thrown once again into something.

Rubbing your head and groaning in pain, you try to reassemble your bearings and your thoughts after trying to piece together what the fuck just happened. As you looked around, taking around your surroundings even more. You sigh of relief when you're not completely swarmed by eye-bleeding colors, but rather met with the darkness of an empty hallway.

It's as empty as it can get anyway, there's tech literally everywhere. Some gadgets and gizmos a little too complicated and advanced for you to understand, it didn't help that you already had a searing migraine boiling to the surface because of what just happened for you to get here too.

To the best of your ability, you walked through the hallway, occasionally tripping over yourself from the absurd amount of tech junk that littered each tile that you walked on. You were probably going to kill whoever let it get this messy, your body had suffered enough in such a short amount of time, and you were still clad in your pajamas because why would you even think to change?

You had tripped over one final wire before ending up at— god, how could you even begin to describe what this place looked like? There were multiple brewing strands, different kinds of messes that you'd probably kill yourself to try cleaning, but the most eye-catching of all in this cave is the elevated platform in the middle of it all.

You'd inspect even further, maybe even try to climb the damn thing, but for what feels like the hundredth time tonight, you're caught off-guard when you feel something attach to your chest. You look down, red neon ropes stuck to your torso.

Of course, you were too caught up in your investigation to even notice the pair of red lenses peering at you in the darkness of this mad laboratory. You gasped as you were tugged harshly, way too harshly to the point where you were pulled onto your knees. Two more shots of that strange red rope were on your hands, effectively pinning you to the ground as you continued to struggle.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was not how your night was supposed to go!

Whoever attached these webs to you seem to walk out of the shadows, your eyes train on to each detail of this guy's suit. A Spider-Cat, Spider-Man? logo that looks so edgy that you'd mistake it for a skull, futuristic lights emenate a small glow and they decorate different parts of his suit.

He had broad shoulders, which made his waist look absolutely criminal. His wrist was held out and as he walked closer to you, you understood where that webbing was coming from now. He was also tall, impossibly tall as he towered over you while you were on your knees, presumably on the floor of his office.

Hello, sailor!

Your gaze trailed to his other hand, under the faint gleam of the monitors of the platform above, you swore you could see claws. It only convinced you to keep tugging at your bindings, otherwise you were going to get completely shredded to bits at this point.

Your heart bounced off of the walls of you ribcage, you could practically hear it in your ear. Loud, repetitive, rapid thumps as from the corner of your eye, you can see him getting closer and closer.

However, he stops. Just in front of you that you practically have to crane your neck up to get a good look at his face.

"You know them?" His voice is rough, gravelly, his claws retract and he puts a hand on his hip before turning his head sidewards and out from the darkness strides Pawker.

Your face brightens up at the sight of him, your pounding heart doesn't slow, but now it's for an entirely different reason as you relish in the familiar and fluffy feeling of Pawker rubbing and purring up against your restrained arms.

"Pawker!" You all but squeal, cooing at him especially as he begun making biscuits on the webs that stuck your hands to the ground. The noise makes the other, less important man in the room flinch and he puts his wrist down. Bringing his hand to rub his head.

Still, even once you were reunited with your cat. There were still a lot of unanswered questions, who was this man that he was just with? Was he a threat? Maybe Pawker is a supervillain rather than a crime-fighting vigilante and this guy is apart of the whole operation? Although, judging from the awfully snide face that Spider-Man carried even with the mask covering his face, it seemed he had his own suspicions towards you as well.

You were the first to break the silence, the assumption that you were your cat's owner had already been confirmed so it was safe to assume that he wasn't going to kill you. "What were you doing with my cat?" You tried to keep your tone level with his, but it was so hard. How could you when your pet was confiding with him?

Your question probably pissed him off from the way that a nearly silent groan slips past his lips, curses uttered under his breath. He kneels down before you, retracting his talons again, and cuts you free from the webs. A pang of relief crashes over you as you rub your wrists - still looking at him, eyes filled with curiosity.

He stands up once more, outstretching an arm to you. "Get up, you're going to have to pay a lot of attention to understand."

Once he was able to get you seated and able to get some sort of wristband on you, he had finally explained exactly what was going on. You understood a little more than half of what he was saying, one would assume that he was a scientist of some sort from the extremely fancy, almost pretentious choice of words he has.

Down to the basics though, his name was Miguel O'Hara. He was the leader of an elite strike force that apparently your cat was apart of, the same cat that you've grown to love over years of being and living with each other that would practically yodel for your attention after five fucking seconds of not getting pet.

You almost couldn't believe it, yet you were also so impressed. Who knew your little baby was a superhero?

After finishing the long-winded discussion, Miguel waited for you to ask your share of questions, and you had plenty. Some of them were miniscule, just idle queries that he begrudgingly answered - although one that you had in mind was Pawker's schedule.

He was a fat cat, there was no denying that. Constant check-ins with the vet, scheduled meals (you had no money for a fancy automatic feeder), and not to mention regular pet care stuff.

You were quickly dismissed by Miguel after a short amount of time though, something something anomalies something something. You weren't able to catch most of it. Again, fancy language and scientific terms you couldn't bother understanding.

Before you left, Miguel promised that he'd probably drop by your apartment sometime in the following week to discuss details on your cat. You didn't know whether to be excited or intimidated. But it was best that you pondered on that once you were done being sent back through the tunnels of multiverse travelling, which was less painful now that it was back to your dimension.

A few nights pass, almost too many nights, and you almost think that he's not gonna come. It'd make sense, he seemed very busy. Hell, that was the reason why you weren't able to stick around his 'spider-cave' any longer.

Soon enough and just as you're about to switch the kitchen lights off, the scattered papers and calendar that you'd set down on the counter hours ago begun to float. Yellow, pink, purple, and so many other colored hues shined against the surfaces of your kitchen. Next thing you knew, Miguel was here.

He was still clad in the exact same suit that he wore the night that you met him, mask on and everything. You thought that you'd get to at least meet him again with his face shown, but it was fine. Mostly.

The discussion went as smoothly as you thought it would. Awkward silences were common throughout, it was to the point you faked bathroom breaks just so that you didn't have to sit through it all. At times, Pawker even had to interrupt by hopping on the counter and knocking things over.

Throughout it all, Miguel kept his mask on. Even as you offered him a glass of ice cold water, considering how it was going to be a long night, he declined. You set it on the counter for him anyway, just in case he'd change his mind later.

It's an hour and a half into the night, he had to drink something.

"You're going to get a headache if you stay dehydrated," You bluntly pointed out just as he finished explaining only god knows what, you could feel the stress that'd built up from his job in the sigh that he lets out. "I'm fine." He insists.

Rolling your eyes, you lean forward on the surface of your counter and a little bit forward to him. Seeing if there's any signs that he's going to pass out soon, "If this is about your secret identity, you already told me your name. How shameful is showing me your face?"

You don't get much of a response from him besides an annoyed huff, that is it. You grab the glass of water on his side and slide it over to you, taking it in your hand. "Just a sip, and I'll drop it. Okay?"

He doesn't seem to relent, you want to raise your voice but Pawker is napping. "I think I reserved the rights to see the face of my cat's dad."

Miguel pauses his scribbling on your calendar, lenses of his mask noticeable widening as he slowly turns his head to you. The marker in his grasp tightens as well as he says, "What?"

You want to chuckle at his reaction. "Am I wrong?"

He seems to just stare at you like a deer in headlights, before his eyes narrow at you once more. You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk erupting on your lips. "Why? You think you're too pretty for me or something?" You tease.

Even as he's masked, you could feel him roll his eyes. "Yes, my face is too handsome for mere mortals." He quips sarcastically, and before you're able to get out any more smartass remarks, he reaches a hand out to yours. "Give me the shockin' glass."

You move your hand towards him just a few more centimeters before he snatches it from you, holding it in front of him as he takes off his mask. It fades out, pixel by pixel.

Now you're the one in headlights as you slowly take in every detail of Miguel's face. He looks like a marble statue, you think. Slicked back, dark brown hair save for some messy strands that fall onto his forehead, ones that he has to run his hand through to fix. Cheekbones sharper than any knife that you probably have in your kitchen, a refined jawline, thick eyebrows, plump lips, and his nose-

Hello... sailor...

"Happy?" His voice cuts through whatever thoughts were running rampant through your mind as he takes a sip from the glass.

Your composure slips. "Yeah, very."

The night passes quickly, so do the next few nights. With that time, you get to know Miguel and Miguel gets to know you.

If you were lucky, you would be able to hear more about the nature of his job past the missions or operations that your cat was involved in. Sometimes you'd get to hear small utterances from under his breath about canon events and anomalies.

Your job wasn't as important as his, just a simple desk job that you were allowed to work from home sometimes. Which was beneficial for you because that meant long and peaceful afternoons with Pawker on your lap, purring away.

Even if you felt that your occupation wasn't as life-saving as Miguel's every time you remotely even brought up your personal life, talking about plans you have later in the week or dinner dates with some of your friends, he always seemed so intrigued.

Leaning forward in his seat, dark crimson eyes concentrated on yours as you went on long rambles about random niche topics, with his head resting in his palm. He'd think you haven't noticed, but you most definitely have.

You mostly only talked about yourself though, it made you feel a little entitled. You didn't know if you were just self-obsessed or if Miguel didn't want to even talk a single peep about his personal life.

But after a while, batting your eyelashes, encouraging teases, he relented. It felt like all hell broke loose.

There was definitely something more in this partnership, if you could even call it that anymore. That joke you made about Miguel being Pawker's cat dad started to feel like less of a joke as time went on.

It started with more visits, sometimes even in the middle of the day rather than the dead of night like usual. He (and his A.I. assistant that you only found out about a couple days ago) found a way to hack into your phone so that you could receive direct messages from him.

It moved on to treats for Pawker. Whenever you begun to run low on cat food for him, a fresh supply would enter your pantry mysteriously followed by a text from Miguel minutes later asking if it was okay.

The gifts continued to upscale in size and expense, going from cat beds to a new, advanced automatic feeder.

When you thought that Miguel was done emptying his wallet for Pawker, the gifts started to direct towards you instead. Although, they were still cat related. Sometimes, little phone charms with a polite looking ginger cat decorated at the end of it would end up on your nightstand. Once you two settled down on the stools behind your kitchen counter, he'd even pass you small tokens moving from cat to more you related.

His excuses? I happened to be shopping in this store and I thought of you. There was a great deal and I just couldn't pass it up. They gave me an extra one for free.

And as he dished out each one, the least convinced you got. It was so hard for you to try returning the gestures as well, but when you could you saw in his eyes how much he appreciated it.

Love was a constant feeling in your everyday life, seeing Pawker curled up at your side after waking up from a long night always made your heart squeeze. However as you continued to talk and talk and talk with Miguel, there was this unfamiliar ardor that grew and grew and grew in your heart.

It was undeniable, you were in love.

And you were going to do something about it.

Miguel's schedule conflicted with yours most times, even if you tried being sneaky with finding out what days he was free, it was like fighting a losing battle. Which meant that there was only one option left for the both of you.

You knew that Miguel was going to be coming over again tonight, which meant that it was time to spruce up your apartment. You had cleaned the moment you got home from work, dug a little deeper in your wardrobe for your better items of clothing, and brought out the good wine.

It seemed that you weren't the only one excited for this surprise date, Pawker was oddly more well-behaved tonight compared to any other night. Staying inside your room, and you haven't heard any claws scratching at the door or vocals for the past thirty minutes.

You waited for midnight to hit as you anxiously clutched the bouquet of flowers that you bought on the way home, you basically feel the petals falling out from how tight you were holding it.

When you sensed the shift in gravity, saw the colours light up the dimness of your apartment, and smiled once Miguel walked through, you'd prayed he wouldn't jump hack into the portal once he caught sight of you.

And thank god, he didn't.

"Hi." is all you're able to say as you hand out the flowers for Miguel, it seems that he dressed up for the occasion. Partially at least, you could still see his suit from under the long sleeve shirt and sweatpants. His large hands take the bouquet from you, eyes darting back and forth as if he was in a dream.

"What's all this?" He asks, tone dripping in absolute disbelief at what's happening right now. Perching himself down on one of your stools like he was about to pass out. God, you were amazing.

"I know you don't have time for things like this so, I took matters in to my own hands." You sat down beside him like you always do, pouring wine into his glass then into yours before taking a big sip.

The look of wonder and awe as Miguel admired your little date set-up made you feel absolutely victorious, he had to put the flowers you got him on the counter otherwise they were going to fall out of his hands from how stunned he was.

"I thought I'd take initiative, you know before you go bankrupt from constantly buying me and Pawker gifts." Miguel chuckles at your witty comment, taking your hands in his, brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. This is probably the happiest you've ever seen him, and you took even more pride knowing that you'll be the only person to make him feel this type of way from now on.

"I've– I've been wanting to ask you out for a while, with the gifts and all, but our schedules and I wasn't a hundred percent sure that you liked me."

As he says that, one of your hands slip out from his grasp and your fingers cup his cheek. He leans into the touch, hearts in his eyes as he does so. You were addicted to him.

"I think you'd have to buy me a new heart too because there's no way that I wouldn't like you back," It was strange to think that all of this happened because you found out that your cat was a vigilante, you never could have imagined that your first love would be a grumpy, emotionally constipated, superhero from another dimension, but you were more than happy with what you got now.

After your words sat in the atmosphere a little longer, Miguel brings your hand to his chest where you could feel his heart beating faster than a race car. "I want to kiss you, please let me kiss you, cariño."

You frantically nodded your head, standing up from your seat so that you could be on par with his height as your arms move to his shoulders for support. "Okay."

Then he kisses you.

Bold, passionate and those two are words aren't even enough to describe it. Your fingers find his curls, tugging at them softly to try getting him closer to you and he moans into your mouth. His hands paw at your waist, digging into the sides of your body so that you can slot in-between his legs.

Once you two separate, it's hard to catch your breath. You pant heavily, head lolled against his shoulder before small snickers slip past your mouth. You couldn't believe you just fucking did that.

Miguel pulls you off of him, but still keeps you close. Looking you deep in the eye, thinking that he's going to pull you in for another kiss until—

Meooooooowwwwwww...

You freeze in place, brows furrowing as you quickly turn your head to your bedroom door, waiting for a few seconds before that grating sound of claw marks against wood rings in your ears again and you sigh. Miguel doesn't seem entirely fazed though, his grip on your waist loosens as he allows you to step back.

"Someone's upset." You state, taking slow strides over to your door. You don't want to leave Miguel yet.

"You can take it if you want," He shrugs his shoulders, spinning the wine in the glass then taking a sip. "Then we could continue where we left off." A wolfish grin curls at his lips.

Without hesitation, you open the door. Cooing and reassuring Pawker that you still loved him even though Miguel's tongue was down your throat not even a minute ago.

What a cat he was.

requests closed, masterlist here

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #spiderman #atsv #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #x reader #x gn reader #x gn y/n #gender neutral reader #gn reader #spider cat #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #fluff #romance #falling in love #long post

[hearts4youz]

The Captains Daughter -Chapter 3-

A/N Sorry for the longer wait!!! chapters 4 and 5 are ready to go and will be out this week/weekend as well!! hope yall are doing great and enjoy this chapter! its a bit of a slow one, the next few are too but I promise it will get better!!

@abbiesxox

Word count: 1.1k

Reader pov:

*Beep beep*

*Beep beep*

4:45 AM, your alarm was blaring. You let out an ungodly noise as you stretched your still sleeping muscles, reaching over to shut it off. Breakfast started in 15 mins, reporting was mandatory. You used the restroom, brushed your teeth, washed your face with your standard issue bar of soap, which to be honest, didn't do much for skincare. It was more for sterilization than anything.

You combed your hair back into a low ponytail. Luckily the uniform regulations were much more relaxed here than your old base. Your hair only needed to be tied back in some form if it was past chin length, instead of the required sleek low bun most other military organizations required.

Putting on your uniform and double knotting your shoes, you opened your door and began walking to the mess. Almost running face first into a man with a mustache. You looked up to apologize and realized it was your father.

"Watch where you're going fatass," You joked. (A/N- please tell me yall got the mean girls reference.)

Your dad laughed, your footsteps fell in sync and the two of you walked to breakfast together.

"How was your first day of training with your Lieutenant?"

"I don't think I'm up to his standards," you confessed. Remembering Ghost's disapointment with you the day before

"Ah yeah, Ghost is tough to please. Don’t stress about it kid, if he’s mean to you it usually means he likes you,” He winked.

You rolled your eyes, “he doesn’t even think I belong here, he kicked my ass when we sparred.”

“Ghost is a great soldier, he’s incredibly strong and has seen a lot of hand to hand combat. He can be blunt, but it’s cause he wants to make you better, not boost your confidence,” your dad tries reassuring you.

“Thank you dad, but something tells me him and I won’t get along too well," your opinion unchanged.

He sighs, the two you enter the mess hall and fall into line.

"Speak of the devil," your dad says, lightly elbowing you.

you turned around to see Ghost and Soap had gotten in line behind you.

"Captain!" Soap exclaimed, with just a tad too much energy for 5 in the morning."

You looked up at him and grinned. He had shaved his face, which appeared to have shaved a decade off of his life.

"MacTavish!" Your father clapped him on the back. "You don't look a day over twelve," he teased.

The four of you laughed, the first time you've seen your lieutenant do anything of the sort.

Ghost caught your quizzical expression and quickly stopped, expression reducing to the same stone faced soldier you were growing familiar with.

"Ghost?" Soap wondered why he stopped laughing.

Soaps gaze switched from him to you.

"Oh," was all that came out of his mouth

You were confused, why wouldn't Ghost laugh around you?

Why did soap seem to instantly know why?

Ghost pov:

I was not about to let Y/N see my "human" side, maybe once she proves she can handle herself. I think as I fork bacon onto my tray.

I dared to steal a glance at her, she was back to talking and laughing with Soap and Price. It is odd seeing someone act so informal around him. I know he is her father and all, but everyone else acts so reverent towards him.

I am due to continue her training at 4:00 this afternoon. Dread fills my veins. I hate the thought of being in charge of the training that is designed to save someones life. What if I fail to teach her something that she needs in a dire situation? What if I am too soft on her and she remains weaker than her opponents.

No, that won't happen.

You will be hard on her, you will show no remorse, you won't feel bad. She is not your friend, she is your sergeant. I repeat this to myself in my head as we gather our trays and walk to the table. I ate in silence, paying little attention to the conversation. Gaz and Alejandro had joined us at this point. I stared down at the plate in front of me. The bacon here is nasty.

I wanted to leave. I hated it with Y/N here.

Its not that I don't like her, well actually maybe that is partially why.

But, when I look at her, its like seeing a child. Something that needs to be looked after, someone with a lot to learn, someone who isn't ready to face the world.

I stood up to leave without a word. I head towards the gym to get in a quick lift before the morning briefing.

"Simon!"

Soap had followed me

"Fucking hell" I said under my breath.

"You cant be a jackass to her forever," Johnny said, jogging to catch up with me.

"Until I can safely befriend her without having to worry about having to identify her body a week later I will be," I huffed.

"Simon, I know it hit you like a truck when Henry Jones, and Bill Anderson died, I know how you get when you hear about the death of anyone," he tried to reason.

"I know you always think it's your fault when something goes wrong. I know you want to protect everyone, and I know you don't mean to be an asshole." I looked at him from the corner of my eye.

"But not everyone else knows that," he continued. "Your colleagues are afraid of you. They think you're heartless. I know you aren't, the rest of the squad knows you aren't, well except Y/N.

Him and I walked the rest of the way in silence. I contemplated his words.

Your colleagues are afraid of you

"I don't want her to be afraid."

"Hm?" Soap turned his head

"Y/N, I don't want her to be afraid of me," I confirmed

"The mask sure isn't helping," Soap joked to break the tension. "Actually, keep it on- whats underneath is worse," he snickered.

"You bastard, I'm not ugly," I cracked a smile from beneath said mask.

Johnny has seen my face once, on a mission. I was sucker punched and it cracked.

"What does she think of me?" I say, curiosity besting me.

"She thinks you're a total dick."

"figured"

"You can fix that though," Soap said "It's pretty simple, maybe instead of beating the shit out of her to start training, you could ask how her day is going." He sarcastically adds

I roll my eyes, "I'm capable of friendship."

Soap laughs, "I'll put in a good word for you LT."

Smiling and shaking my head, I walk away.

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Patronage For The Worthy - Incubus!Male!Reader x Nilou

A/N: This idea for the reader has been living in my mind rent free for a good chunk of time, and here it is. Hope everyone likes it!

CW: Cervix sex, Male!Reader

NSFW under the cut.

Nilou opens her eyes. Everything is dark around her. A small amount of light falls through her window, illuminating her covered feet a little. She feels a cold gust of air coming from somewhere to her left. She rubs her eyes, yawns, and sits up in bed. 

She looks around. The window is open, letting the cool summer air move the curtains. Nilou, dressed up in her nightgown, gets up and moves to close it. When she stands before the opening, she can’t help but look out at the city. It’s very late, so only a handful of people roam the streets, illuminated by street lanterns. She looks up at the starry sky, and marvels at the full moon. It’s so beautiful, she thinks. 

“Yes indeed. The moon looks incredible today.”

She freezes in sudden horror. Somebody is in her room. Her heart speeds up, and her chest feels heavy with stress. She slowly turns around.

A man is sitting on the edge of her bed. He has short, dark hair. He seems tall, however the way he is sitting, leaning forward while resting his forearms on his thighs make it hard to judge his true height. Small horns are visible through his hair. The pupils of his eyes glow lightly with a red shine. 

Her eyes go wide. She tries to back away, but she is soon stopped by the windowsill. Her breath speeds up.

“W-who are you? What a-are you? W-what do you want from m-me?!” Her voice cracks from fear. The man stands up, revealing his true height. He is much taller than her, and bigger too. His arms are thick and his shoulders are broad. He raises his large hands up slightly.

Nilou would be ready to use her Vision if it wasn’t this late, if his entry wasn’t so sudden, and if only he wasn’t so… huge. Nilou is certain that with a single swing of his powerful arms he could send her flying. She tries to move, but her body refuses. She is frozen as he approaches her.

“S-stay away! Don’t c-come any c-closer!” Her knees tremble, and she slowly lowers herself to the ground.

“Hey, hey. Stay calm. I mean no harm.” The demon’s voice is surprisingly… normal. It’s nothing like she expected. It’s deep, yes, but very human at the same time. But most of all, it’s calm and steady. Its tone is… oddly soothing.

Her heart starts slowing down against all reason. The man’s aura feels… comforting?

“Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you, alright? Deep breaths, Nilou.” 

With no other choice but to obey, Nilou nods. 

“O-okay… but don’t come any closer. Please.”

The demon crouches down to meet her eye level. In the darkness his eyes give off a faint, red glow. Her visitor shrugs.

“As you wish.”

It takes her a few solid moments to calm down. She takes in the posture of the demon. It’s relaxed and casual, much to her surprise. A soft smile is on his lips all the while. She finds the courage to speak.

“Who are you?”

“Well, as you can see… I’m a demon.” He smiles, revealing two sharp fangs in his mouth. Nilou shivers at how sharp they look.

“And why are you here?”

The demon laughs. “I’m just here to visit you, obviously. See… I have been watching your performances for quite some time now. I must say… they are quite… breathtaking.” His smile widens. Despite how strange this situation is, Nilou can’t help but blush a little at the praise.

“Thank you…”

“...And I believe that great work is to be rewarded properly. So here I am. For this night, you're my mistress. I will do everything you ask of me to the best of my ability.”

What the demon said is still being processed in her mind as he stretches out his left arm towards her. 

“I understand if you don’t trust me. That’s why I will give you my word. And incubi’s words are never empty.”

 Suddenly, his wrist starts glowing. Nilou is taken back by the sizzle and the smell of flesh being burned. The incubus remains still as her constellation is burned into his forearm. The unearthly fire dies down as suddenly as it arose, along with the smell. 

The demon sighs. 

"Now I am not allowed to do anything against your will. As well as this contract, I will provide you with my name. The one thing that allows one to control a demon completely. Call me… Y/N.”

“Y/N…” As she says the word, the demon’s eyes glow blue. “That’s a beautiful name.”

“Yours is as well, Nilou. Or… do you want me to call you anything else tonight?”

Nilou thinks for a moment, before replying. 

“Is it okay if you call me… ‘princess’?”

Y/N chuckles. “Of course, princess. It’s all about you tonight. Whatever you wish. ”

Nilou looks at Y/N again. His face bears a smug smile. She traces down to look at his body. It’s large and muscular, but most of it is covered by the casual gown he is wearing. All of his torso, except for a chest window. Before she can fully take it in, the demon speaks again.

“How about we sit somewhere more comfortable, princess Nilou?”

She gives a small nod. Suddenly, Y/N picks her up with one arm, completely effortlessly. She squeals in surprise. He gently lowers her to the bed, and sits beside her. As he does, the clothing parts, letting her see his entire chest. It’s very muscular, with six firm abs and well toned skin. She looks up and down Y/N, taking in his impressive physique. 

"Hey. My eyes are up here, princess." 

Nilou nearly jumps in surprise. Her eyes move from his face to the bed and to the floor in panic. Her cheeks flush red. 

"S-sorry…" She replies somewhat ashamed of how blatantly she was checking him out. 

The demon laughs. 

"Hey, it's okay. Do you like it?" 

"I… u-um… like it a lot." She is redder still, avoiding his smug gaze. 

He suddenly, but gently, grabs her hand, and pulls it to rest on his stomach. 

"You can touch it if you want to. I don't mind."

Nilou gulps. Despite what the demon said, there's still a little spark of worry lingering inside her mind. What if she makes a misstep, and touches him in a spot he doesn't like? He could do something to her… But she has to admit. It's kind of… exciting. To be able to touch such a beautiful body… 

She gently guides her hand along your stomach, feeling every small bump of your muscle. They are firm and hard, yet your skin is soft and warm. So pleasant to touch. She moves up, resting her hand between the breasts, and finds no heartbeat. 

"You… really are not mortal…" She moves up her other hand to your shoulders, gently parting the clothing even further. "May I…?" 

"Yes, feel free. Do what you want with me." You smile encouragingly. 

She removes your top completely, exposing your forearms. She moves closer to you, hands now guiding alongside your forearms. Nilou traces her fingers along the perfect curve of your biceps, taking in how hard, yet soft your flesh is. Her touch is gentle, almost feather light. 

Nilou looks at your face, and an idea suddenly pops into her mind. She lifts her left hand to rest on your cheek. With a slow and careful movement, she moves her thumb to your lips, gently parting them. Her mouth opens slightly as she caresses the teeth. She drags her digit down towards your tongue, and pushes it in slightly. You obediently suck on it, making her blush. 

Nilou clumsily mounts you, and you lean back. She sits on your stomach, and you can feel the heat radiating from her core. She sighs as you speed up your tongue work. Her other hand draws circles around your breast, gently rubbing against the nipple. You let out a soft moan as you surrender to her touch. 

The heat inside her is growing by the second. Y/N… Such a powerful being, big, strong… with nothing but a light press of his sharp teeth he could bite off her fingers, and yet here he is, worshiping her fingers. Such a beautiful creature, surrendering to her every whim… 

Nilou doesn't notice when her hips start moving up and down your abs. You, however, can feel all the wetness seeping through her pajama bottoms. Your hands move to hold her ass, gently helping her move. She gasps when she feels you move, and a small frown appears on her lips. Pleasure? Extortion? Dissatisfaction? You can't tell. 

She grabs your bigger hands and moves them to rest on the covers, pinning them down by the sides of your head. You let her lips find yours as she leans down. Your tongues intertwine, but you let her take the lead. In no time she is exploring your mouth, hips still bucking back and forth against your stomach. 

When she parts with you, hot, blushing and out of breath, you look down at her hips. Her nightgown bottoms are completely soaked in the crotch area. You purr, looking deep into her eyes. 

"Ah, you love that, princess Nilou, don't you?" 

She lets out a small moan, mouth now agape in hard earned pleasure. "Yes…" 

"Let me lend you a hand then."

Your eyes glow, and suddenly her clothes are gone, turned into black particles. This doesn't surprise or startle her. Instead, she just dives into your lips again, exposed pussy rubbing against your soft skin with twice the intensity now. She is too overcome with lust and desire to care, or feel even an ounce of shame. 

With an especially wide hip move, her core rubs against your bulge. In an instant, a new wave of desire overcomes her. Her nose takes in your beautiful, overwhelmingly hot smell, and she can feel that familiar itch between her legs. But this time, her fingers won't do the trick. 

"I want you, now… please… serve me w-with your body, Y/N…" 

Your eyes glow again, and your pants are completely gone in an instant, allowing your cock to spring free of its confines. Without delay, she grabs it in her hand. She rubs her palm against your head, gathering the slick and precum. Nilou timidly takes a whiff of your musk, and her eyes water at how strong it is. Wasting no time, she places your head against her entrance, and slowly, very slowly, starts pushing it in. 

She whines as your tip stretches her body. You move your hands to support her lower thighs, securing her movement. Her eyes flutter shut as she feels her insides being pushed apart, making space for your overwhelming length. She feels so full, so delightfully filled, and yet it's just the halfway point. She moves her hips up and down a little, sending waves of pleasure through the both of you. She moans lightly, hands gripping your shoulders for support. You can feel her fingers digging deeper and deeper into your skin with every millimeter of depth. 

Nilou runs out of breath for a second, before a sweet, loud yelp reaches your ears. You can feel a firm wall of flesh touching your cock. Her eyes roll back, and she falls on your chest, breathing heavily. Her cervix prevents you from going deeper, so you start moving your hips back. Gently, but firmly, you snap them back forward, striking her wall and earning a gasp from her. She digs her nails into you, drawing blood as you fuck her gently. 

Nilou soon convulses, her walls pulsing, throbbing and clenching around your shaft. With her first orgasm, any sense of boundary or restraint is gone. Despite her orgasm induced exhaustion, she starts moving again. You both moan in unison as Nilou lets go of her desires and rides you for another orgasm. 

And then another, and another until her body gave out on her. You left her there, bruised, covered in hickeys and absolutely spent. 

The sleep she had was the best of her life that night. 

—

Nilou awoke the next morning. Every part of her hurt, from her toes to the top of her head. Lightly stretching, she looked around her room. Even though she remembered it to be more or less trashed, it was cleaned. A new set of pajamas, identical to those she lost during the night, was resting on top of her night stand. 

On shaky, sore legs she moved to the bathroom. Moving to the kitchen after washing herself down with lukewarm water, a silver, covered tray caught her attention. A small piece of paper lay next to it. She glanced over the text, written in beautiful, decorative font. 

"Loved the night. Made you breakfast. See you on the next show, princess~ - Y/N."

Nilou lifted the cover, coming face to face with a steaming hot pile of pancakes. She nearly squealed with joy at the sight. The girl rushed to grab some cutlery, but a flash of pain stopped her in her tracks. Rubbing her sore hips, she chuckled to himself. 

Maybe she really did go too far yesterday. 

Thanks for reading!

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