#themselves before all of that because. that person is supposed to be dead. so they just start getting aggressive about it. and also maybe

[deadghosy]

How would (Separate) Hazbin hotel (Demons &Angel) react to a green thumb gardener whose elegant, classy and attractive and she went to hell by mistake but it was a happy one (She's not completely weak as she has her plant to protect her and everything)

HAZBIN HOTEL X GARDENER! READER

prompt: a common mistake made demons and angels swoon over a gardener who just wants to take care of her/his plants

cw! Sir Pentious is alive for this so he can witness your beauty in flowers💗

note! I listened to Lana Del Rey while making this lol.

HELL

You didn’t know you were supposed to be in heaven as you started your own flower shop. It was the biggest know hell flower store with actual flowers.

You were practically poison ivy, but more kind and definitely calmer. Hell, even some of your regulars call you poison ivy. Mostly because if people touch you metaphorically the wrong way, then you technically show them a harsher side of you. Literally, a plant impaled a sinner trying to rob your store. 

What you didn’t except to get friends or even people interested into you as you just have a normal as shop you dreamed of before dying.

“Welcome to my flower shop, what can I help you with?” You said with a soft smile as a flower vine is watering other flowers in the background. Some imps, sinners, and hell borns go all the way to just see you and your flowers.

I can see you wearing a flower crown or just flowers in your hair. Like dead ass giving rapunzel. Possibly so, your alive flowers and vines had made that for you as you worked.

You most definitely wear those cute gardening outfits like overalls or those dresses if you prefer one of them or both.

See this is what I can imagine, I can imagine the whole damn hotel having a flower competition and you show up with a big ass plant with a neat pink bow on it 😭. You definitely had a smile as you drank tea with a secret smirk.

I can see you visiting the hotel Charlie has as she invited you to do some flower decor for a reopening of the hotel.

Imagine how pissed you were when a couple of sinners came in to make your shop look like shit. But you wasn’t gonna stand for it as you raised your hand grabbing the sinners by their necks with vines. “If you want flowers, I wouldn’t mind making you a funeral for you to have some.” You said with venom as the sinner practically shitted themselves as they were thrown out the windows of your shop.

A sinner had thrown a Molotov cocktail once in your shop all because he thought it was weird to have a “girly” flower shop in hell. As the fire spreads in your shop, you sighed having plant vines cover you in a big ball as one of the vine slither to find the culprit. After finding the culprit, you forced them to clean your shop since killing someone for such a petty crime like that in your opinion isn’t worth killing. You can always make a new shop and fix it.

Vaggie most definitely knows you as you hooked her up with flowers that Charlie might like. You told her Charlie seems like a simple girl would just like roses since they represent romance. And basically it was Vaggie and Charlie’s date night. And it was a success.

Angel dust loves how you don’t judge him for who he is by his work. But he definitely loves how you two gossip over some tea, well he drinks while you drink tea or water. You are like an older sister/brother figure to him. He loves resting in your bean bag you have in the back, he could just come in and and lay down straight.

I headcannon your whole palette to be like green, pink, yellow and white. Literally just spring ass colors to seem classy with your flower shop.

I can imagine you having the personality of applejack but more of a flower and gardening person as gardener! Reader were most definitely born in the south. Like I can imagine reader to be a mix of applejack, rarity, fluttershy but 100% of applejack’s honesty and a lot of Rarity’s elegance.

Niffty adores you! Literally she goes in your store to rant about she wants the hotel to smell fresh and ready. And you hook a sista up with how you give her scented plug in. She immediately starts worshipping you like Alastor which makes Alastor raise a brow seeing a shine of you in her room and drawings of you.

Charlie immediately loves how vaggie and angel ador you and find you as a loyal friend. She would love to have you at the hotel as a resident. She could even beg Alastor or her dad to make a flower shop for you to even stay longer by briding. She would also try to become your friend for her to succeed.

Sir Pentious went to your store to apologize again to Alastor as he felt that Alastor didn’t forgave him. He was scared you weren’t a kind “sinner” that only had a flower shop to scam people for their money. But when you spoke with kindness and care towards the snake demon. He felt calm in your presence, to the point when he got his flowers. He gave you one which made you smile at him and put it in your hair. He blushed and ran off.

The egg boiz love too appear in your store as their boss, penthouse is very nervous to talk to such an attractive person like you. You welcome the eggz to your humble store as you give them flowers to give back to the hotel staffs.

Angel and Cherri most definitely asked you to give them flowers to match their personality. You gave them both a Carnation flower which you thought was good for their personality. Or even a Lilly.

Husk kept seeing the crew leave the hotel to see them come back with flowers. He grumble confused at why they kept getting flowers. That is until he asked Charlie, and Charlie ranted about what a beauty and how kind you are. Husk raised a brow thinking you were putting up an act, so he went to see you. Let’s just say he got a rose coming back with a soft smile and a purr.

The Vee’s heard about you, Vox heard about you first and looked you up to see you are a popular florist and gardener with the power of Chlorokinesis. The power to mentally and physically control flowers. Vox smirked hearing about your 5 star rating shop. If it was that high ranked with people commenting it on yelp saying you were the best business to be at. You definitely got his attention at most.

Lucifer went to your store for some flowers to give to his daughter, and when he heard how amazing your store was. He went to se it himself. He definitely felt your pure spirit making him stumble into confusion on why you weren’t in heaven already. But he got his flowers and felt with a cup of tea you gave him. He shortly came back at the end of the day to give you his own flowers as he smiled with a snake smile and left leaving a note that says, “you’re welcome to come stay at the hotel! :)”

Alastor finally decided to meet you after hearing all the good things you did for the hotel and for the staff. He must say he was jealous how you won their hearts so damn quickly. He went to your store to see what’s all the fuss about and got hit with a lavender scent in his nose. He covered it as he wasn’t use to such sweet smell in hell as it’s filled with fire and blood. And there you were sitting there with a smile as warm plate of teas sat by you. You welcomed him as he made chat with you to find your heart pure with gold. He also left with a rose and a genuine smile.

I imagine how sweet you get your own flowers by regulars and your friends at the hotel as they love your passion about plants.

Headcannon on Gardner! Reader to be a Lana Del Rey fan as the song to match her/him is “born to die” 💗🦆

Vox was obviously the first Vee to meet you face to face as he had researched you so many times on the internet to get any scoop of you to only end up with an empty hand. So he decided to see you in person and smile with a charming one to see you greet him with a smile and show him the recommended flowers for loved one and family. He was not into the flowers as he watched the plant vines in the back work like hands. He smirks trying to use his hypnosis, but failed greatly as a flower in a vase covered his sighting of you. Thanks to your plant vines.

Velvette was the second one to come to your store as she was not impressed at how “boring and plain” it was in your shop. She was snarky about the decor and gave you tips on how to make it “pop” in here. You just smiled, and with a snap of your fingers, the decor changed to a more fashionable flower place. It made the female Vee almost drop her jaw and composure. But she can’t let some flower store shock her. So she left with one last snarky comment under her breath.

Valentino definitely came in last to see what was up with your whole popularity of your “business” of flowers as he was so busy working his porn industry. So when he walked in yo see you reaching for some flower seeds to get for a customer. He grabbed your waist, wanting to seem flirty only for it to backfire as a vine punches him away from you. You already knew who this bastard was, and you weren’t gonna let him get you like how he got angel. So during his entire visit at your shop, you made it a living hell. Literally.

I can see the Vee’s coming back every weekday to try and get you to be their little flower pet, but you ain’t buying it. 😘

You most definitely have a vine hammock in the corner of your store as you just sit there and nap during your breaks.

Imagine how cool and sweet you are to the imp and hell born children that come to visit your store for father day and mother day. Hell, even valentines days

I can headcannon that gardener! Reader has once in their hell life down there had to drag out a rude Karen ass bitch by their hair. You fuck with their plants, you fuck with them.

Imagine how chill you are just sipping tea as your plants and vines attack some dude trying to steal your sunflower seeds. Yeah, no one gets out without being traumatized by plants 😍

You came into the hotel once and immediately got love bombed by everyone. But not in a manipulate way, they just appreciate how amazing you are to people even the staff at most. They go as far to throw you a “welcoming” party 💗

Lucifer had most definitely sent ducks with mini flower crowns and a Gardner duck to you as he finds you very elegant and beautiful in your own way. He even accidentally tries to court you with his wings when he leans against at the front desk of your store staring into your eyes.

HEAVEN

Adam had eventually was sent to take you back into heaven as sera realized her mistake. You willingly went with Adam who smirked at your sweet smile and took you up by your hand. Like, let’s say whatever happened in the hell section didn’t happen as you just had a bad time in hell itself.

St. Peter immediately greets you, making feel welcome to your new home. He even baked you cookies with a smiley face. He tries to make chit chat with you when he isn’t on duty getting people into the gates. He literally visits your workplace in the flower store you own, bringing cookies, making sure you are okay. Hell-, I meannn heaven gods..he must be a househusband cause GYATT DAMN this man is making sure you are well and healthy in heaven’s care. 💗💗

Sera most definitely have showed you around heaven with a please smile to see a Gardner. You would’ve been great for the Garden of Eden, is what she says in her head as you smile at the trees and potted plants around. You even showed the seraphim your powers, and she must say that she was pleased and made you a gardener around heaven and even your own garden shop and house.

Emily most definitely tries to go visit you everyday to try and find flowers that match you so you can be surprise when she buys you flowers herself. You and Emily definitely have a sibling relationship at most because of how she looks up to you in a gardening way as she also wants to impress you by making her own garden and green house. She also makes sure you take breaks as she wants to help with the customers as you take a break in the back. Your friendship with her is so wholesome and lovely.

Adam likes how classy you are, you don’t even cuss him out when you are angry at him. You just put your hand in his face and walk away. Sassy, but classy enough to not curse someone the fuck out. Yeah sure that might’ve turned him on a bit at how hot and “bitchy” that was of you. Cause no one has ever rejected the “Dickmaster”. So it was his duty to make you his friend…sorta😨. But it’s all fun and games at how you guys are like frenemies at most since Adam actually can’t stand you, but still flirts at how attractive and kind you are. Hell even strong minded.

The angels absolutely love coming in your store! They find every single plant and flower you made incredible. You practically almost run out of business when it’s Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day. But you can’t complain when they leave so much heaven bucks for you to get more plant seeds and such. The angels also love how pure of gold your heart is as you even give some off free for the heaven borns and winners.

Big headcannon on how your Gardner outfit in heaven, the palette is a soft green and pink pastel. But Adam and Sera had thought about you wearing a gold, white, and blue type of Gardner outfit. They want you to stay pure and mighty.

OOOH IMAGINE HAVING CUTE ASS WHITE GLOVES 😭😭 LIKE THEY HAVE THOSE STITCHED IN GOLD THREADS AND LIKE THEY ARE SO CUTE AND COMFY INSIDEEE💗💗

Since i headcannon that Gardner! Reader to be a damn Lana Del Rey fan, their song that matches them in heaven is “young and beautiful.” As you are young and beautiful and mostly, you’re in heaven.

Literally imagine Adam just shows up to just degrade you, but it doesn’t work as you just sit there reading your daily newspaper or on your phone to just see plant and gardening instagram from earth and heaven. Adam pouts or even scoffs before taking your phone and acting like a fussy cat wanting attention.

You really don’t give a fuck about Adam but he definitely gives a fuck about you.

The angels sometimes ships you with Adam, but they also ship you with st.peter at how he is basically the house husband and you are the girl boss who works their ass off😭

Lute and Adam are definitely the type to be those teens who visit their local market..dead ass when they are free they just come to your store and just start “window shopping”…but really they just either want to mess with you or actually know about your day.

I can see you literally just chilling, and Adam busts open the store door that has that jingle bell on it so harsh and all he says is. “Wassup bitch!” With his usual grin and a soda cup as you just groan annoyed.

St.peter literally tried to work beside you ok his days off to just see how “calming” your job is. Until rush hour comes😭 that’s when hell itself unleashes with people wanting to grab any scented flower candles and flowers for theirselves. Have mercy on Peter’s soul that he doesn’t get grabbed and clawed all because he said that the last product was in the back. 😭😭

Imagine how cute your damn angel wings must be. Cause I imagine them to be some god damn fairy wings to match a beautiful aesthetic with your flower and gardening store.

I headcannon you actually had thrown Adam like how vaggie thrown the staff like in the episode of “scramble eggs.”

lol I can see you just slapping Adam with your plant vine because of one misogynist joke he made. He had the most whip lashed mark on his face. He stopped making those fücking jokes like that as he just flinches as a vine comes near him. “WALK HIM LIKE A DOGGG!!” 😘😍

Sera loves gaining flowers from you as the angelic guards bring them in as she is doing her work.

Emily also feels the same way as she smiles and makes the guard send you flowers as well for a thank you. 💗🥺 please give this sweet baby a note back saying you appreciate her damn note so much..

Imagine having a whole tea and cookie station by your front desk where people pay. Like they get a nice drink and a snack in case they were hungry and thirsty from their trip to here. 😘☀️ you care about your customers and regulars deeply.

St. Peter had one time mistook the glass doors to be opened and fell back so dramatically onto his ass, he might as well confirm himself as dead 💀

Emily most definitely actually tried to grow a plant or flower to show you how much she learnt from you, only for the damn thing to fail. She wanted to cry and shrivel up in disappointment, but you taught her and help fixed her mistake on what she did at most.

Lute most definitely acts better without Adam, of course she could act better with Adam. It’s just that Adam is her home dog, and she is Adam’s homegirl. So of course they are besties. So with Adam not interfering with you and lute talking one on one for the first time. You two get quite long to the point she grabs your hands and smile. Leaving with a flower you gave her.

Your plants just causally changing into the liked flower of the customer or regular due to your plant magic on sensing what flowers they like supposedly💗

Headcannon on how short you are. Literally you are shorter than lute to Adam and Emily. It’s really funny but to you, it’s annoying asf since Adam picks you up like a stray cat found at the front porch ready to be taken in.

Emily and sera would have tea time with you definitely. Or coffee if they prefer. You don’t gossip of course but just lift each other up and talk about hanging out later in the days or weeks later. Heck even the day later maybe if Emily is very eager.

Lute most definitely had thrown flowers in your face as she isn’t use to showing affection towards a person she actually admires. Yeah she admires Adam, as a boss and best friend. But there is something about you that makes her stumble on her words.

You had to actually stay home once, forced by sera who got told by Adam you were overworking yourself. Adam and sera hated it as sera showed go to your job looking serious. Forcing you to stay in bed until you had a good sleep for the week.

Imagine just gardener! Reader literally accidentally making Adam spit out a four leaf clover as they were saying a spell in Latin to have four leaf clovers for St. Patrick’s day.

I headcannon Adam sometimes tries to court you with his wings, and you are confused as hell as you aren’t use to being courted by some fucking feathers.

I can see you having a potted plant pet beside you. It was practically a sapling as it smiled with heaven magic and told positive affirmations to waking customers. It’s so fuckin adorable

I imagine you just sleeping as your overworked at your store and Adam comes in pissed off you didn’t come home. So he literally picks you up over his shoulder and walks Home. He has the damn key to your house but he decides to just go to his house and lay you on his bed as he sleeps on the couch grumbling.

St.Peter, after that little incident with him walking into a glass door. This mofo literally puts his hands out towards any glass door 😭 like a little kid being traumatized after a glass maze. It’s so funny but so sad.

A young heaven born had brought you back a freaking flower crown in your most favorite flowers and you were so amazed. You gave the small little angel a flower crown of their own.

The visits are always welcomed to your store as Adam brings you his own set of flowers to try to impress you. 💗 you snickered seeing the note that says, “i hope you like it..bitch. *middle finger drawing* I heard this plant was your favorite.” Sweet, but sour ass motherfuker. 😭😭

#gardener! reader #hazbin hotel x gardener! reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin lute #lute x reader #hazbin emily #hazbin sera #seraphim #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel sera #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel angels #hazbin charlie #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #hazbin vox #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x female reader #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader

[planete777]

NO IDEA・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

IN WHICH. y/n and lando can't get enough of each other, even when another person is present (based on this ask)

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI!, starring max fewtrell, y/n and lando get too horny for him so he dips lol, pwp, lil bit of smoke play??, unprotected p in v sex, doggy style, riding, missionary, lil dirty talk, smoking while fucking, guys this is just filth pt. 2

NOTE. so uhm.. im lowkey shitting out fics,,, two works in one day??? WOW. this is what the summer holidays does to me lolll. i wasn't supposed to be writing this BUT anon slipped into my inbox with this ask and my brain couldn't hold back (i mean... it is high!lando) so enjoy lmao <33 also, once again, dividers are not mine, credit to the rightful owners

the smoke alone that painted the room a misty white was in intense abundance. y/n could barely see more than a foot ahead of her, where max lay, body completely at the mercy of the heavens and sprawled like a dead man upon the couch. lando, sticky, hot body beside her, is just as faded, breaths so evened out, it's almost as if he's subject to a comatosed state.

y/n never knew max smoked, fucking weed for that matter. always seems to be the unsuspecting ones that let themselves undulate upon the highs of drugs, mouth puffing out smoke like that's all it can do. it was peculiar, and a slight bit awkward, when he had asked her to toss a joint, but she did so without questioning.

now, here they were, all three of them, polluting the air more than any manual vehicle could and filling their lungs with the acrid stench of weed that dragged a nip of addiction that none of them bothered to care about.

"man, i could do this everyday," max says, examining the spliff in his hand as if it was something so wonderful. y/n laughs and shakes her head, "nah, it may be good and all, but set limits for yourself."

he hums back, most likely too dazed to care about her cautions, and goes in for another drag. lando drags out a sigh as the smoke trickles out of his mouth like white silk.

"you good baby?"

lando nods, reaching a hand out to rest it on y/n's thigh, "yeah i just," it slides further up, with a trail of heat following as he leans into her ear and whispers lewdly, "wanna fuck you so bad."

she giggles and takes a long, burning drag of her own, blowing the vapour into lando's face.

thing is, lando is horny high. there's never a time where they smoke together and not fuck, but she doesn't ever complain because it's hot, sweaty sex that leaves them buzzing with satiation and wrapped in thick air of smoke mixed with the smell of what they'd done just seconds before.

y/n thought that lando had set aside that urge for the night, considering the additional presence with them, but he just doesn't give two fucks, and that alone makes her skin crawl with need.

his lips are licking sloppy kisses into her neck, targeting where he knows she'll let go, and her mouth opens limply, leaking with moans and sighs.

"fucking hell, mate— while i'm here?" max's incredulous voice punches out, and he swings his legs off the couch.

"you can leave, max," lando remarks dismissively, dick growing too hard, too fast. he slots the spliff into his mouth, inhaling so much that his eyes roll back, before dragging y/n into a messy, heated kiss. it's more of clashing tongues and teeth, smoke weaving through their skins.

the door slamming completely detonates lando, pushing y/n unto her back before stripping her leggings off, panties and all. a wisp of coolness breezes past her bare pussy, and she moans lightly, sucking in her spliff and letting go into the air.

"such a pretty pussy for me," lando slurs, grinning loopily as his eyes hang low and red. his thumb presses into her clit, forcing her back to arch as he rubs it hard and slow.

"fuck lando, keep going."

she can hear how her cunt squelches with his tamed movements, making her pussy throb, practically beckoning him closer. he leans in, blowing a puff of smoke unto her clit before completely attaching his mouth and sucking like he's fucking pussy drunk.

y/n brings a hand to his head, pressing and grinding into his mouth, swivelling her hips with desperation. it feels like heaven, paired with the warm electricity that thrums through her joints from the weed, and she just wants more and more and more.

lando's going feral at her pussy, pushing so deep into her that his nose pokes at her clit and stimulates it beautifully. his hands, spliff still between his fingers and spilling out threads of smoke, push her thighs up to her chest, bulging out her cunt more as it drips like a watering mouth.

"i could eat your pussy forever," he speaks into her pussy as she moans loudly, barely able to bring the joint up to her mouth.

he stops abruptly, evoking a whine from the lips of his girlfriend as he wedges the spliff in his mouth and unties the knot of his shorts, dragging it down. his dick immediately slaps against his abdomen, pulsating and flushed deep red, and he slowly jerks it off from the base all the way to the swollen tip.

"just fuck me, lan'," y/n exasperates, and he relents, pushing all the way in. their mouths drop as they release sighs of relief. y/n relishes in the way her pussy throbs with his dick, clenching and unclenching around him, causing lando to hiss.

"don't do that y/n, i don't wanna cum yet."

he wraps a leg around his waist before pulling back and completely drilling back into her cunt. his cock rakes against the muscles delicious, and y/n can feel every ridge and dip of his dick. her toes curl, eyes rolling as she inhales another drag, blowing out punctuated puffs of smoke as a result of lando's hips slapping against hers.

it's agonisingly snail-paced, but so deep that it compensates greatly for it and all she can do is lay there, all pretty, and take his cock.

lando attaches his lips unto her glimmering collar bones, riding her shirt up with his hands before latching unto her nipple. his tongue slurps and flicks at the skin, making y/n moan and squirm drunkenly.

then lando suddenly flips her unto her hands and knees and stops.

"hold your pussy open for me baby," he pants out, "need a couple drags."

her hands go behind her to spread her pussy apart, swollen, wet and gaping open for lando. he doesn't waste anymore time to slide his dick inside, thrusts just like before, but even deeper, and the girl is completely thoughtless. he smokes with much efficiency now, pushing and pulling his hips alone as his fingers work the spliff between his lips. pleasure from sex and being high sits heavily and perfectly in his limbs, head thrown back as he gradually lets y/n meet his thrusts.

"you're fucking yourself on my cock so well baby," lando moans, slapping a hand against her buttcheek as both their movements grow stuttered.

"i'm gonna cum, lan'— shit."

he feels her walls tighten before she lets go, mouth dribbling with airy sighs and groans as her hands fall to the sofa. lando is still on high, eager to feel y/n for longer and so he's switching their positions, the girl sitting on his thighs as his back rests against the sofa.

"ride me y/n."

"lan'," she goes to protest but doesn't, crawling up unto his dick and sinking down so smoothly and warmly, that lando loses all feeling in his legs.

he watches her bounce and grind on his cock, blowing smoke up into her face as she smiles and revels in the warm air. she looks so filthily unreal, high but so fucking horny for his dick, and he looks at her for so long without blinking that his eyes begin to burn.

"lan' i can't, i'm gonna cum," her thighs are shaking, siphoning trembles through his skin. he grins, slaps her ass teasingly, and tells her to let it go.

liquid trickles down his dick as he shoots his cum into her cunt, high pitched moans tumbling out of her as she's consumed by the high before flopping down unto lando.

"you did so well, baby."

#‧₊˚✩彡 planete.thinks: high!lando #lando norris #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 romance #f1 smut #f1 fanfic

[fauxdette]

Gwynriels: The books speak for themselves.

The books: "Would you like me to show you the garden?" • But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away • “Beautiful." • Color bloomed high on Azriel's golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them. • "I can help her," said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. • "She doesn't need anything" • It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. • But Azriel asked softly, "What about Elain?" • "I'm getting her back." Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel's hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, "Then you will die." Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, "I'm getting her back." • "Are you hurt?" •

"You came for me." • Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest. He dripped blood behind him the entire time • "We need Helion to get these chains off her." • Yet Elain didn't seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger's cheek. • "This is Truth-Teller," he told her softly. "I won't be using it today—so I want you to." • I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife. • Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. • "He is Elain's mate." I waited. "It would be an invasion of her privacy to track him." • "If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance." • "Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?" • I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed. • "Sit. I'll take care of it." • "Wait until everyone is seated before eating." • I made to move toward her, but someone beat me to it. • "Oh, that's from me." • Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, "Thank you." • Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she'd sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house • "Because of the shit with Elain?" Azriel stilled. "What happened to Elain?" • No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. • "I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all." • Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, "There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to." • Azriel stood in the doorway, monitoring them. As if he'd heard Elain's sharp laugh and wondered what had caused it. • Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. • A pretty lie. She'd seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer. • Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond • Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. • It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. • He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue -- • How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she'd make. • Elain bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce of Azriel's restraint to keep from putting his own teeth there. • Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. • Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. • Tilting her face the way he wanted it. • Offer and permission • "You can't order me to do that."

#elriel

[pixiecaps]

Heres a portion of Maxo’s ending monologue and some meta commentary.

q!Maxo: And what if I stay? At least they won’t have that planned out. How can I be so stupid? Of course, they know about the bomb. They literally know everything, see everything, its an all seeing eye, of course. They already knew about my plan.. But there’s a plan they don’t know. And it’s that I’m going to stay here. It’s over. Besides, I’m a danger to everybody, I’m turning into a code. I know now that I’m not the only one but at least it’ll be one less, right? It’s the desperation of not being able to do anything against the Federation. They always get away with it, man. They always get what they want. I don’t- I don’t know why I’m even still walking. … They’ve taken my bomb and stolen my idea and now they’re exploding it. They don’t care. At least, we found a way to escape. (Timer runs out)

cc!Maxo: (Closes game) And like that is how he dies. “Are you coming back as a ghost?” As of right now I am not thinking about returning as a ghost. (Plays sad music) Rest in peace qMaxo. Rest in fucking peace. I did all I could chat. I did all I could. … If I had reached the boat I would not have gotten on. I think what I would’ve wanted is to reach the boat, say goodbye to everybody, and die. But I suppose due to the timer the bomb blew up before that could happen. … So I’ve died. That is how it goes. This was the only thing I could do that the Federation could really not control. Killing myself.

cc!Maxo: (When a chatter mentioned the people who didn’t reach the boat) Chat I only know that I’ve died, it’s what I wanted for my lore. That I would’ve stayed there with the atomic bomb. In a fantasy world like the QSMP, of course I could revive, finally turn into a code, or whatever but for the moment all I know is that I’m dead. And I don’t have anything else scripted, from this moment on I’m dead and thats final. Thats the reality, and thats why I’m not… happy because I will for sure miss the QSMP. But since I personally take roleplay very seriously, for me there is no going back. I am dead. I cannot return as cubito Maxo. I can return as a spirit that haunts Roier once in a while, periodically, I could, I could but qMaxo is dead. It’s sad, I’m not super happy because obviously I spent a really great time on QSMP but by my own lore, man, I couldn’t do it any longer. I couldn’t handle returning to Quesadilla Island knowing I couldn’t do anything against the Federation. If I made a fucking atomic bomb and the boss of Purgatory goes and says, “Oh you have an atomic bomb? Okay. In fact, that’s a good idea. Let’s explode it, run to the boat, returning again to the island that you were in, because thats likely what will happen, and you’ll continue suffering.” I can’t do it anymore. I’ve lost Trump, my son, I’ve lost- I no longer trust people who can kill each other amongst themselves, by the lore.

cc!Maxo: The players themselves are super fun people and I’ve had a good time. What makes me feel shame is that, that I can’t roleplay with them anymore. To say it one way or another. Well, there could be things in the future the admins offer but as a player it makes me feel shame. Also, while it is true that recently I hadn’t been logging in a lot, the times I did I had a good time. I did a lot of cool things with these people.

cc!Maxo: I lost SOFIA, I lost.. everything. Everything that I’ve done, every idea that I had thought of for myself and others has been taken by the Federation. … I think that the Federation has so much control that is impossible to do anything against them. And everything you do against them they’ll use to further confuse the people. … For me I will no longer play [as qMaxo] because I am dead, that’s serious to me, I’ve decided my character has died in an explosion. Another thing is that I could occasionally log on as a spirit or something. If they allow me that then great! But if dying means not being able to play on the QSMP anymore then so be it. … This was necessary for the roleplay. … I didn’t die thinking, “Wow I found the answer.” I didn’t want to die because I found any type of answer. I died because of desperation. To say, look man I couldn’t find any answers.

Maxo mentioned it did leave him with a sour taste in his mouth that he didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to everybody since he ran out of time. So a chatter suggested he does canonical pre recording goodbye video to everybody. He said he’d likely consider it and do it so that his character gets the chance to tell the other characters goodbye and that he’s gone.

Rest in peace qMaxo, the original founder of the Theory Bros, and someone who gave his all to escaping the island no matter the cost.

#qsmp #suicide cw

[maxislvt]

helloo, first off i love your work ! second, this may or may not be a request but- imagine dark!wanda x spidey!reader, post no way home where r is one of the avengers sent to stop wanda on her rampage. r gets captured by wanda though and turns out wanda remembers r’s identity. she had a crush on r since civil war and now that she has r all to herself…😳

“i’m going to ruin you”

warnings: womb tattoos, coercion, manipulation, spiderperson typical quips in really bad situations, no smut

got a little carried away, whoops!

The last few months of your life have been awful.

Life had been pretty stable for the most part. Trying to balance college, being a superhero duo with your adoptive brother, and the newfound freedom of adulthood was a lot to say the least. Then some big alien freak came along and ruined everything. You and Peter left Aunt May behind for five years.

For better or for worse, you and Peter didn't age. Peter still had his senior year ahead of him and you were only 24. So you both tried to make the most of that.

You were supposed to chaperone your little brother's senior trip through Europe. All you wanted to do was help Peter enjoy the last few months of youth he had before being shipped off to college. Of course, fate had other plans and the trip was interrupted by another cataclysmic event. One unpredictable turn after another. Then suddenly everyone knew your secret identity.

Quentin Beck was a hero and you were half of the duo that killed him.

One edited video and suddenly the whole world was against you and your brother. It was a target on your back you had no way of getting off your back. The magical escape you thought you'd found was nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing. Universes nearly collided. Three versions of your brother. Two other versions of you. Villains the two of you tried and failed to rehabilitate. A moment of complete darkness for your brother A dead aunt. So much fighting. So much pain. All of it for nothing. At the end of it all, everyone was forced to forget about you and Peter. No more full rides to dream colleges and no more "Amazing Spider Kids". It was just the two of you in a shitty Downton apartment at a community college neither of you really wanted to attend, but that didn't stop you two from trying to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

That need to protect everything and everyone seemed to get you in bigger trouble.

America Chavez. Barely 15 years old, alone in the multiverse, and no one to trust. Her powers and life experience were beyond you — you couldn't even take credit for defeating whatever monster that was chasing her — but you wanted her safe. You foolishly thought that it'd be as simple as finding a hero that could mentor her. Magic wasn't your strong suit. Yet, you still helped America try to escape the claws of the Scarlet Witch along with Doctor Strange.

In the midst of a heated chase, the witch's focus seemed to have shifted. Your mask was ripped by a piece of metal and you could feel the witch's eyes on you. Since you were more focused on protecting America, you decided to send The Scarlet Witch on a goose chase. You and a magical body double of the girl. Unfortunately, you could only run for so long. You didn't bother fighting when you were captured. All you could do was put on a brave face as you were somehow teleported back to your universe. You assumed the witch had gotten a decent portion of America's powers. That worried you, but unfortunately you had to prioritize your personal safety for a moment.

The witch must've known you were too weak to run away because she didn't even bother tying you down. She just stood over you and examined your face. You were nervous and confused to say the least. "So, uh, do you always stand over sacrificial young adults in such a compromising way or am I special?" You quipped. It was a real misfortune your mouth tended to run more when you were nervous. Your heart almost exploded when she reached out for your mask. "Hey, hey! Have some respect for a man's secret identity, will you?" You shouted, trying to push her hands away.

Automatic reflexes were nothing against magic and you were unmasked and it sent your spider senses spiraling.

"You remember me."

"Of course,I remember you. Do you not remember me?"

The airport. Tony had you and Peter flown out for a top secret field mission, that's what he told you at least. You weren't sure what you were fighting for, but you remember the battle clearly. Some guy had grown to a hundred feet tall. You fought some guy with a metal arm. Then someone suddenly started throwing cars. They had all missed you and went straight for Tony, but it was still scary. After the battle, you learned the name of all the people you fought. The weird one, as Tony described her, was named Wanda Maximoff. It's scary how your life had become so eventful that you'd forgotten that whole experience. Well, you couldn't blame yourself for not recognizing her considering the drastic change in her appearance.

"Yeah," You said bitterly, "you threw a car garage at my mentor."

"Your mentor made the bombs that destroyed my home country and had me jailed for powers I didn't ask for."

That was the first time a villain had left you truly speechless. Tony wasn't like that. Was he?It was a lot to process and that wasn't made any easier with the icy cold hand caressing your cheeks. "If you're going to drop an information bomb, can you at least give me a second to —" Your sentence was cut short by her thumb slipping into your mouth. Wanda had managed to slip past your spider senses. It was odd considering you were definitely not calm nor did you trust her.

"I figured he didn't bother telling you the whole truth," Wanda's voice had gotten low and seductive. Her thumb pressed down on your tongue as she continued to monologue. Your squirming didn't phase her at all. "I could hear your thoughts the moment you stepped foot in the airport. So loud and frantic, but nothing but innocence and desire for approval. It's a shame I wasn't able to see you again after that. I was lost in a hex of my own deepest desires and do you know what was there?" A smile spread across her lips as she felt you relax out of curiosity. "The two of us, happily married with two children, and living in New Jersey."

The statement made you jump and start fighting again. Married with kids was definitely not on your list of goals in the next few months, living in New Jersey just sounded dreadful. You managed to get her thumb out of your mouth just long enough to speak. "I'm sorry to hear about your crazy magic thing, I'm not ready to settle down yet. Maybe come back in six years once I've graduated, yeah?"

Wanda binded your wrists with magic. Her hand came down on your cheek with all the strength she had. Despite her frustration, she was happy to see you were still as witty and innocent as the day you two met. "I think I have a plan you'll like." She smirked as she summoned the darkhold. It opened on its own. The book turned towards you and translated itself so you could understand it. "Your innocence," she said before ripping you suit, "and your body in exchange for the girl's safety."

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. It certainly wasn't a fair deal, even more unfair once you looked over the spell presented to you. A womb tattoo magically etched into your skin that would give Wanda complete control over your libido, orgasms, and a bunch of other depraved things you hadn't even heard of before. Wanda definitely wasn't the woman you imagined would take your virginity, but it wasn't an offer you could refuse. Strange wasn't strong enough to defeat Wanda and letting America die wasn't an option in your mind.

You put on as brave a face as you could before speaking, "If you so much as lay a finger on that girl, the deal is off." Your voice faltered at the feeling of Wanda's lips pressed against your neck. A moan nearly escaped your lips when Wanda's hands began exploring your body. The skin of your lower stomach began to tingle. This was it. This was how you lost your virginity.

Wanda's lips curled into a smile. A real one that showed off her perfectly white bunny teeth. She was no longer concerned with America. You were all she needed now.

"I'm going to ruin you," She whispered, "and you're going to enjoy every moment of it."

You wanted her to be wrong. You wanted so badly to hate the way her hands felt against your bruised skin and the softness of her lips on your neck, but you couldn't. Months without affection left your body desperate for any form of human touch. It is shameful and almost disgusting.

"Shh, I'll treat you right. Just be good for me."

#panther speaks #anon #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda fanfic #dark!wanda maximoff #panthers drabbles

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

Love Thorns All Over This Rose

Words: 2577

Warnings: angst, talks of a miscarriage, body image, talks of difficulty staying pregnant, mention of what is technically a still-birth, depression, suicidal thoughts, self-medicating, accidental suicide attempt (this is will make sense if you read it), probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

DC Masterlist Main Masterlist Join My Taglist

IF THERE IS A WANT FOR A PART 2, I WILL DO ONE, IF NOT, THEN THIS STAYS AS A ONE-SHOT!

I mention Y/N goes to a church to pray, it is described more as a Christian or Catholic one (I really don't know the difference and I apologize) as she lights a candle before she prays. If you wish to skip that part, it starts with "Y/N hurried up the steps of the Cathedral." and ends with "Y/N nodded silently before turning and walking out.". I do also mention that the reader themselves aren't very religious (but grew up with it so reverted back to old practices to see if it helped)

Alfred is also dead in this (don't ask why he just is) so that's why he isn't here!

The POV here isn't really consistent. It jumps between being with the Batkids, Bruce, and Y/N's. I tried to make it flow though so hopefully that works!

 I feel like I should mention:

Bruce and Y/N's ages don't matter (I'm not in the mood to deal with that) but; Dick is 31 (and married to Kori but that's not too important), Jason is 25, Tim is 22, Damian is 15, Cass is 24, and Steph is 23

I also am not too familiar with Duke, so that is why he isn't there much. Mostly just mentioned

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

7:25 AM

The kids watched as Y/N was silent as she put the plate down in front of Bruce's empty seat. They all noted how fake her smile looked as she looked up at them. "Alright, I will see you kids later!"

They all watched as she walked out of the dining room and once they knew she was out of earshot, they started talking.

"Did she eat anything?"

It was Jason, he had been the last down (well...outside of Tim) so he only saw her putting the plates down and ushering them to eat.

Dick shook his head, he had seen her the entire time she made breakfast. Fully clothed, which was unusual as she usually just made breakfast in her pajamas with her hair occasionally brushed. But not today. Today her hair was done, makeup was on, she was dressed as if she was working.

But everyone in that house knew she was still off after what happened, even though it had been 3 months since the incident.

Damian flicked at his food, "Ummi was supposed to take me to school today."

Dick smiled at Damian, "I can, Dami. Mom is just...preoccupied."

Damian hmphed and continued to play with his food. Dick was concerned for his younger brother. He knew that while he himself was close with the woman he had allowed to become his mother, Damian was so much more as she was really the only person who never got mad at him or made fun of him when he didn't understand something.

Jason abruptly stood, "Since mom isn't here, I'm just gonna go."

Dick raised a brow, "Really Jason? You're just gonna leave after--"

"Hey, we've been over this before Dick. I come because mom asks me to." He shrugged as he put his jacket on, "Plus, I'm going to follow her."

Stephanie snorted, "She'll kill you when she catches you."

"If she catches me. If."

Steph hummed, "My bets are on she will. Y/N is always on the lookout, especially after..." She faded and looked down, regret piling up inside her as she thought of what she was about to say.

"Either way, tell us what you find Jason."

He nodded to Dick's request before heading out the side door in the kitchen. Dick tapped his hand on the table for a minute before speaking; "I'm gonna go check on dad, Damian go get everything ready and I'll meet you at the entryway, alright?"

The eldest stood, placing a gentle hand on the youngest shoulder before heading to the stairs. Dick was concerned. He had never seen his mother so...shut off. Pretending like everything was alright even though everyone who saw her could tell that she was so close to jumping off of a bridge.

The closest that he had seen her to this was back when Jason died and she broke up with Bruce. But even then, she didn't avoid things that she had already planned. Even then, she stayed committed to things.

Plus, Dick knew she had no plans today. Well...no plans except for the fact that beforehand this would have been her due date. And he knew that that was most likely what had off-set her so badly.

Dick didn't even knock before opening the door to Bruce's study. He was even speaking before his father even looked up from his computer. "Have you talked to mom?"

Bruce raised a brow, "What?"

"Mom." Dick crossed his arms, "When was the last time you and her had a real conversation?"

Bruce shrugged, "I'm not sure." He looked at Dick oddly, "What are you going on about?"

Dick let out a hard sigh, "You two are married, it is your job to take care of her. Goddammit Bruce!" He threw his hands up in anger, "You know what? Nevermind, I'm not...I'm not even going to try."

He angrily turned and walked out of the room. He didn't even understand why he even thought that talking to Bruce would help. He just walked down the stairs and remembered his promise to get Damian to school. Trying to hide the anxiety he had that he didn't know what exactly his mom was doing.

--------

9:09 AM

Jason watched Y/N walk out of the convenience store all the way in Blüdhaven. From where he was, he couldn't see what she had bought, but the moment he saw her go into the store, he had messaged Tim to watch her bank account. To watch what she was purchasing. Something felt...off as he watched her.

Jason knew that after the...accident, Y/N had been hard to reach. To talk to. He knew that she and Bruce hadn't been sleeping in the same bed since that argument he had accidently heard them having around 3 weeks after everything happened. So 4 weeks ago.

Granted...from what he had heard, it wasn't even a fight that they had had. Mostly just words being thrown at the other. Words that Jason never thought that he would hear either one say to the other. Words that he never told any of his siblings that he heard. All out of fear that one of them would panic. And while sure, he had a disdain for Tim and Damian, that didn't mean he would ever let either of them know what he had heard.

Jason wasn't sure how long he had been watching her just sit in the car before Tim finally texted him a list of what Y/N had bought in the past week. And considering Jason had seen her previous bank records for a week, it was a sure red mark with how short it was.

Tim

In the past week she's gotten a lot of sleeping pills. That's basically all that she has gotten. That plus energy and pain pills. Duke is thinking she's self-medicating again

Jason sighed as he pocketed his phone when he saw his mom driving out of the parking lot. He kept a safe distance behind her as he followed her on her drive back to Gotham.

--------

12:15 PM

Y/N hurried up the steps of the Cathedral. Trying not to make a misstep and fall as well as trying not to draw attention to herself. She closed the umbrella over her head as she walked in. Placing it in the small holder, she brushed the front of her outfit as her heels clicked on the ground when she walked down the long hall.

Last time she was there was for her mothers funeral last year. Last time she had walked up and grabbed the larger candle to dip down and light the smaller one. Her heart pounded in her chest as she kneeled, words swimming through her head and mumbling off her lips.

She herself was never very religious, but having grown up that way, she wondered if praying like she did as a child would work. Praying that things would get better and that she would get better.

She shakily did the cross on her before standing and wiping the tears that had silently fallen away from her cheeks. She turned and started to make her way out of the church when she heard a voice call out her name:

"Mrs. Wayne! We were not expecting you here today, is everything alright?"

Y/N slowly turned to face one of the Nuns, a small, fake, smile on her face. "Oh yes, everything is alright Sister. Just came here to pray for a moment. I haven't in such a long time."

The nun nodded, "Very well, I hope the Good Lord hears your prayer and makes it happen."

Y/N nodded silently before turning and walking out. She grabbed her umbrella before opening the door and walking out. She practically ran back to her car, wanting to get in before anyone saw her out.

But Cass and Steph did. They watched her speed back to her car as they sat in the cafe across the way. Stephanie shook her head, "She never goes there. Especially not since her mothers deaths."

Cass nodded as Steph continued; "Something is seriously going on with Y/N. Maybe something else has happened that we don't know."

"She's been deteriorating for the past 4 weeks."

Steph raised a bow and inquired, "4 weeks?" Cass nodded, "Huh...weird, that's around a week after she came home from the hospital." She grabbed her phone and started typing in the groupchat that only held the kids (Damian not included):

Steph

when did Bruce disappear for a few days after Y/N came home?"

It didn't take long for Tim to respond

logs say he left 35 hours after she got home and came back 83 hours later why?

Cass

She's been slowly getting worse sense then

Jason

I overheard them arguing around 3 weeks after everything happened and I know they haven't been sleeping in the same room since then. And I'm not sure how important this is; but Tim checked her bank account and she bought different pills so me, him, and Duke think she's medicating again. Or that she's going to start again.

Cass and Steph looked at each other, concern and worry was on their faces as they read Jason's last message. Something started unnerving them as they thought of the things she could possibly do if she was going to start medicating again.

----

3:25 PM

Y/N looked at her body in the mirror. Her hands came to lay on her stomach. Just like she did before. Tears brimmed in her eyes as she stared at her flatter stomach. She breathed shakily as her hands fell down to her sides.

Why?

Was all she ever asked.

Why me? Why did this happen to me?

She was so confused. She had always been good. Done everything to be a good person. But yet she still had that happen to her. Was she just not meant to be a mother?

Of course...she was one. She was a mother to 4 amazing boys and 1 beautiful girl. But still...it was different. Yes, those 5 children were hers, but that one. That singular one that she had carried for nearly 7 months had meant so much to her. Especially after being told time and time again it wouldn't happen.

It wasn't even the first time it had happened. She had had miscarriages before...but that wasn't what it was this time. The kidnapping. Bruce and the kids had found her after 2 days. The emergency c-section to save the baby.

But she knew. Of course she knew. She knew it had died.

Her baby girl. She had died before she even got the chance to live.

Y/N shakily breathed as she grabbed one of the bottles from the counter. She had thought it was the pain medication. But it hadn't been.

Sleeping meds.

Ever since it happened she had hardly been able to sleep. Nightmares of what happened still plagued her mind. Bruce yelling at her still echoed in her brain. Those...twisted words he said echoed inside of her.

She had popped a few in her mouth before dry-swallowing them and getting into the bath she had started earlier. The hot water felt like it was searing her skin, but she didn't care. She wondered if maybe she did this enough, whoever was above would forgive her of her sins and let her keep a pregnancy.

She wasn't sure how long she had stayed in the water before it became difficult to keep her head above water. Her body just felt so heavy. She wondered what pain meds she had grabbed at the store. She couldn’t remember them making her feel this way before. After a few moments of struggling to keep her head up, she felt her body sink down and under the water. But even as she felt water rush into her nose and fill her lungs, she couldn't bring herself to move and get out.

She just accepted her fate.

----

3:30 PM

Bruce sat in his office, a bad feeling settling in his stomach. Something was telling him to check on Y/N. See if she was alright. He knew she had returned around 20 minutes ago, the security cameras had caught her walking in.

He carefully stood from his desk and walked out of his office. He walked down the oddly quiet halls of the manor. A small feeling of pain and guilt started to eat at him as he got closer to the guest room she had been staying in. He knew she was struggling. He knew that she needed him today. But he just...couldn't.

He was selfish. He knew this.

He knew he was so goddamn selfish. Caring about his own feelings rather than helping his wife. She had been the one to physically go through everything. She had been the one to bear that trauma.

He had been so incredibly selfish since she had come home from the hospital. He had even begun to wonder why she even stayed in the manor.

But as he opened the door to the guest room, unrest settled inside him as he saw she wasn't there but the bathroom door was open. It was silent. He had known his wife long enough to know she never was silent in the bathroom. She almost always had music playing.

He pushed the bedroom door further open as he walked further in. Anxiety started to reach a breaking point as he walked into the bathroom.

And time felt like it moved in slow-motion as he saw her state. Her knees bent out of the water, her head under. He saw the three bottles of pills on the counter. He saw the open one read sleep on them. He ran over to the tub, grabbing under her arms and pulling her out.

He bent down, trying to listen for a heartbeat. He felt like his own heart stopped as he heard nothing. Not even a faint thump of one. He quickly moved to her side and started CPR.

Everything still felt like it was moving slower than it was as he pushed down on her sternum. Tears gathered in his eyes as he repeatedly slammed down onto her. As he breathed into her mouth. He didn't stop. He couldn't stop.

It felt like an eternity had passed by the time he finally had gotten the CPR to work. She began to cough profusely, water spluttering everywhere. He sobbed as he heard her shallow breaths break through the air.

He heard the noise of Dick's voice breaking. "Mom?"

He looked at him, seeing both him and Damian staring at the scene in front of them. Staring as their father held their mother in his arms. As tears fell from his eyes, he pleaded for them to call 911.

It was with shaky hands that Dick did it. His words sounded choked back, he kept stuttering. Trying to say what he was supposed to but his mind was running at a million miles and and half a mile a second at the same time. Everything felt fuzzy and he had no idea what he was supposed to do. All that he knew was that he walked in on his dad doing CPR on his mom.

That was all he knew.

That was all Dick knew.

#dc #dc x reader #dc imagine #batfam #batfam x reader #batfam imagine #batmom #x reader #imagine #dc angst #batfam angst #angst #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson angst #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne angst #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd angst #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne angst

[l0ngschl0ngking]

Not the person I once knew

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: past lovers reunite after many years…and then what?

warnings: SMUT (vaginal fingering, oral-m!receiving, protected p in v -i know, shocker-, biting, choking, overstimulation al liiil’ possesive!Joel -just a smudge-), ANGST, mentions of death and shootings, thoughts and mentions of suicide, cursing, Joel and reader being two idiots that cannot express how they feel and…fluff because I can’t help myself

word count: 10k ( yeah the zero is supposed to be there)

A/N: I am too jumping on the Joel Miller train. This fic actually has plot and it’s not just a straight up porn which is shocking :D. Also I am actually crazy - I have a week off from school and that’s why I write that much. I can’t stop - literally.

Your feet were aching – you've had to walk at least 20 or so kilometers by now – and the cold was biting your skin most unpleasantly – finding a good winter coat or any kind of winter clothes was not easy in this fucking Outbreak. You started to feel thirsty and tired and all you wanted to do was lie down and fall asleep – maybe death by cold wasn't the worst fate you could've endured.

Your mind quickly flashing to your group – you've killed most of them, the snarling of them still ringing in your ears, the smell of gunpowder lingering in your nose. You've done what you had to do – one of your guys got infected and infected almost all of the other ones – the ones that survived either left to fend for themselves which you thought was the stupidest thing ever or killed themselves – fucking cowards. Their blood stuck to you like a second skin – the smell of iron making you uneasy when you started to think about it. Maybe you should've killed yourself too. What was the point in surviving now, anyways? You didn't have a group anymore and you had no supplies anymore. Sure, you could eat the snow for water intake and try to hunt something – but you felt too exhausted for that. Your knees buckling – you fall into the cold snow – you hear something then. Voices, the sound of horses neighing and a…dog? Were you starting to hallucinate? You weren't though – the sounds getting louder and clearer – you quickly scramble to your feet and grab your pistol but you pale when you see how many of them are there – all of them looking more sure of themselves on their horses and with their guns raised on you. The dog barks at you, snapping and growling and you've never thought that you might die getting robbed and then mauled by a dog – though they did not look like raiders. Their clothes look clean and kind of new – compared to your worn and torn-off jacket at least.

Someone says something but you don't hear them – your gaze focused on the dog, your pistol pointing at the handler. You've always been a dog lover – before the Outbreak at least – but this didn't look like he wanted to be friends with you.

“Hey, I said drop your fucking gun or I'll shoot your head clean off!” One of them says – repeating himself – and you gulp dryly doing what he says – you were a fighter but also you weren't stupid. There were too many of them and even if you had good aim you wouldn't be able to shoot your way out of this. The guy who addressed you squints his eyes when you lower the gun to your feet – he gestures for you to kick it further and you reluctantly do so.

“Listen here, cowboy,” you sass when you see the cowboy hat on his head, “I was just passing by – my group is dead, they got infected and-” at your words everyone grips their guns a little tighter – the person holding the dog loosening the leash a little in his hands. “Whoa, whoa, I am not infected, I swear.” You sound desperate and you are – you probably should have blown your fucking head of yourself when you still had the chance.

“We will see about that.” One of them gruffs – you guess it's the one closest to you, the one on your right – and you have the urge to break his nose. Yeah, if you were in their position you wouldn't trust someone either but you are not – and you feel pretty fucking terrified – even after years of survival. “Release Buckley!” The first one – the one with that stupid cowboy hat – says and then you see the big ball of fur running towards you. Closing your eyes you pray that he can't smell any jerky on you – you know so he could nibble on your fingers a little and get a taste of you. The pain of teeth digging into you as you expected doesn't come and so you open one of your eyes – you see that the dog's tail is wagging and a grin slowly makes its way on your face. You slowly bend one of your knees - you are not getting any younger and pain shoots through your leg – but you ignore it and start petting Buckley. He's not that bad when he doesn't look like he wants to eat you alive.

A high-pitched whistle cuts through the air and then he is gone – heeling opposite to the person who previously handled him. They don't say anything more and start to slowly turn their horses on their heels when an idea comes to your mind – they look well-fed and clean, and you feel hungry enough that you would eat practically anything. The exhaustion creeps back up at you after the adrenaline wears off and you shout a quick “hey” - their heads turning in question. You offer them a little smile, kicking your feet into the snow and putting your gun back.

“You guys have a place for one more hungry stomach? I just want something to eat – maybe a few hours of sleep and then I'll be out of your hair. Pinky promise.” you grin and show off your pinky finger – you've always had a way of trying to make the situation lighter than it really was and now that you know they don't pose any tŕeal threat – for now at least – you get your hopes up. All of them share a quick look before the one with that stupid cowboy hat – who wears something like that in the middle of the winter – nods and your grin spreads wider. You grab one of the hands that reach towards you to pull you on a horse – and when you are finally on its back, you stroke its muscular thigh lightly. Maybe this day was not so bad after all.

When you arrive at Jackson it is almost noon. You raise both brows when you see the wooden heavy gait in front of you– the people patrolling their stations curiously looking back at you. When you asked them if you could come with them you didn't expect a whole fucking community of people in a small town with electricity and other necessities – your eyes wandering to the various small buildings that look like shops more so than something where you could take shelter. When you asked them if you could come with them you expected a flimsy building without windows in which you would hardly make a fire. You aren't surprised anymore why they acted so tough – families lived here, old couples and people of various ages. A small flicker of hope goes straight to your heart – maybe you could stay here – you were tired of fighting to live another day. And this looked like a great fucking place.

The guy that was riding with you dismounts the horse – helping you do the same and you pet the animal – thanking it quietly. People don't really look at you – at least not so openly as the ones that were taking patrol – they are doing their own things – some of them just crossing the street, others helping to build a new building – you wonder what that is going to be for – a group of kids runs right in front of you squeaking. They play and your heart aches – it's the first time you've seen kids be so carefree since the outbreak happened – it looked like their childhood was not ripped from them. One of the kids – a young girl no older than 6 – looks almost like Sarah – curly wild hair, big eyes and the cutest dimples you've seen adorn her face – and you feel a pang of hurt in your heart. Reaching for your necklace you squeeze the ring that is on it tightly in your palm – Joel and Sarah would love it here.

The man you've called cowboy asks you something and you turn to look at him – he's quite handsome but he is a lot younger than you for sure – he has this boyish innocence still written all over his face when you pin him with your stare. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I will accompany you to the canteen. Tommy is already waiting there, a few men that were with us already informed him about your arrival.” He sounds formal. Too formal – as if his words were learned. Like a little boy scout you think. Images of Tommy Miller through your mind and you grin fondly at the memory of him – you could never imagine him being a leader of a community like this.

“Lead the way, cowboy.” You don't miss the way that the boy's ears gain a darker shade of red and so do his cheeks.

When he leads you to the canteen – you can't believe that they have a real freakin canteen here – you look around because you can't take it all in at once. Jackson looks like an old town from some kind of cowboy movie – maybe that's why the boy wears the stupid hat. A few people on the way politely greet you and you greet them back. When you arrive at the canteen the bo points to the man that has his back turned back on you and before you can thank him – has gone. The lights adorning the room are a nice touch – it looks old school here – old wooden chairs, and tables with plaid cloth scattered across the room, and you can see an old Coca-Cola freezer from the corner of your eye. Your steps are much lighter – even though you are still hungry and tired you're at least not cold anymore, the temperature here is not as cold as outside. The man that cowboy pointed at talks to someone – an older lady with a high-pitched voice with pretty blue eyes – and you wait before they end their conversation, standing to the side. The lady whispers something to him – you can see her lips moving but don't hear anything – and then the man turns and looks at you. If you have something in your hands right now you would for sure drop it.

Tommy fucking Miller was standing a few steps away from you. He looked older – of course – and his hair was a lot longer than you'd last seen him, the mustache he was sporting suited him. You saw the way he scrunched his brows together – as if trying to categorize you to one of his people – and then you saw the realization cross his eyes. His hands drop to his sides and when you whisper a hushed “Tommy ?” he was right in front of you – hugging you close to his body. The hug was desperate and you felt the tears you held back falling from your eyes – the palms of his hands soothingly caressing your back. After a few minutes or was it seconds he pulls away from you and you have so many questions but none of it comes out of your mouth – the lump in your throat not allowing you to. If he was here – alive and breathing – did it mean Sarah and Joel were here too? Or…No, you couldn't think that way. You had buried the memories of Millers a long time ago – but now, seeing Tommy here? He gave you hope.

“Wow-uh, I’d thought I’d never see you again, Doc.” The small nickname of endearment falling from his lips makes you sob and he softly grabs your elbow so you two could sit at the nearest table – a young woman quickly rushes to your side when Tommy gestures with his hand for her to come and he whispers something in her ear – just now you can see the few people scattered around staring at you curiously.

“Tommy-I-is-is Joel here too? And Sarah.” You grab the ring on your necklace tighter – you've been dreaming of this moment for too long – and he looks at your hand noticing the shiny thing attached to the chain on your neck. The engagement ring Joel proposed with.

“I-uh- I'll tell you everything but you need to eat first, Doc, alright?” You don't feel hungry anymore but you nod – noticing the look in Tommy's eyes makes you uneasy – but he offers you a smile and you offer one right back reaching for his hand – squeezing his hand in yours.

You sit and listen to Tommy talk – you aren't sure if minutes pass or hours – but your eyes nurn from all the crying and you feel your stomach drop with your heart multiple times during Tommy's story telling how he – they – come up here. How Joel was desperate to contact you – you were in Houston on a quick trip with your friends at the time, to look for the wedding dress – seems stupid when you think about it right now. How they killed Sarah – your sweet little Sarah, you thought of her as your own, you've lived with her for almost three years and that girl adored you and you adored her right back – you cannot imagine the pain Joel felt when she was killed right in his arms. Tommy tells you about Joel's suicide attempt too – how he didn't see any purpose in life when both his daughter and fiance were not around anymore, he didn't know if you were still alive. He tells you about his wife, how he got here – how he joined Fireflies for a while and you have the urge to punch him when he says that – you have a distaste for that motherfuckers. He tells you about Ellie – not much though – but enough to figure out Joel cares about that girl a whole lot. And most importantly he announces to you that both of them are here and you almost jump out of your chair to go and find him – but Tommy quickly grabs your elbow and stops you. He tells you about how Joel changed a lot – but so have you. When you tell him that he just shakes his head – you don't understand.

“Doc, I don't know how he will react seeing you after 20 years. He is not the person you once knew. I think you should sleep on it first.”

You want to protest but the sound of the door opening and the rushed call of “Tommy!” stops you. You look at who interrupted you and it's a girl close to Sarah's age. She has short brown hair tightened up in a ponytail and a pair of brown eyes. She has a scar across her brow and when she stops next to Tommy and mutters a quick fuck – you know it's Ellie. Joel's Ellie.

“I heard there's someone new in town and I was super curious – Joel told me to wait for him but then he started playing on his stupid guitar and-” he still plays on a guitar. That pulls a little smile on your face. The girl seems like she didn't even notice you and Tommy wants to open his mouth when Ellie seems finally acknowledges your presence.”Fuck, it's you. You're the new person.” Tommy scolds Ellie when she curses but you just grin at her attitude and seemingly “I want to know and also do know everything ” mindset.

“It's okay, Tommy. God knows I curse a lot too. Hi, Ellie.” She seems confused about how you know her name and you've missed talking to kids – God you have missed your job so much, after all, that's how you and Joel met. Sarah broke her leg and when the nurse told him you could finally see them he was more nervous than a mouse being chased by a cat. He was so worried about Sarah that he didn't even notice you ogled him after you were all done with Sarah – but of course, she did. She was a sweet kind and when they left she muttered to her father he should definitely ask you on a date – he just shook his head and told her not to be silly – you were too pretty for him. Turned out you lived close by and from their visit you've started seeing both Sarah and Joel a lot more outside your work. It was you who finally got the courage to ask the hot single dad out – you will never forget how he gaped at you seemingly not trusting his own voice to answer so Sarah quickly jabbed him in the ribs and said that: “he would very much like that” - he was talking her ear off about you even unknowingly so.

“Okay, how the fuck do you know my name and who are you because it seems you and Tommy are big buddies here. Just so you know he has a wife.” She says matter of factly and you think you like this kid a lot – you can see why Joel does too.

Tommy clears his throat. “Ellie, this is Doc.” He says and he doesn't even notices the fact he called you your nickname – you see the way Ellie's brows scrunch up in confusion. “She's a long lost…family.”

“What, are you like their sister? If so you for sure received all the pretty genes – though Joel never said anything about ever having a sister.” She's a lot more talkative than you thought she would be and you think it might be because she finally has a place that she can call home and not worry about stranger danger – at least not that much.

You chuckle. “No I am…” you look at Tommy to see if you can say who you are – though you don't know if Joel still thinks of you as his fiánce – after all, it's been 20 years. He just nods. “ I am Joel's fiánce” You can hear her gasp and say “holy shit!?” - most of the people in the canteen turn their heads to throw her a nasty look. Well, that much at being discreet

“You are Joel's dead fiánce? You don't seem that dead to me.” She mutters that last sentence as she starts inspecting your face and scrunches her nose at you. “You smell.” She states matter of factly and Tommy scolds her once again but you just shrug your shoulders at him.

“It's true, Tommy. No harm in being honest.” If Ellie knows about you it meant she must know about Sarah too and it also must mean Joel talked about you to her. That fact makes your heart build a little faster. Maybe…maybe he still cares about you – logically you know he does, he was a very loyal man back in the days too – but still, it makes your cheeks heat up.

“Joel will lose his mind! You have to see him like right now!” she sounds enthusiastic and you are too – seeing Joel after 20 years? You've been dreaming of this moment for so long…Tommy interrupts your little fantasy – clapping his hands he throws a look at Ellie and smiles at you.

“I think it's for the best if you showered first, Doc As Ellie said you don't smell so fresh and maybe a reunion with your husband would be a lot happier if you don't make his whole house stink, eh?” You regularly nod and when Tommy says you can shower at his Ellie says she will come with you – she asks you a lot of questions about yourself – where you grew up, what did you do before Outbreak, where did the nickname Doc come from – she says you are super cool when you answer her you were pediatrician before everything went to shit. She asks how you and Joel met and you answer her truthfully – you've never liked lying. Tommy just walks next to you and listens – you look at him from the corner of your eyes and see he is thinking – he always has this look on his face – his brows are scrunched and his lips are set in a thin line. Joel has that look too when he thinks about something or concentrates – it was your favorite quirk of his.

The walk is quick and you meet Mariah – she's sweet – she offers you clean clothes and when she closes the door behind you so you can take a shower – you exhale loudly. Knowing that Joel is here and that you will see him made your stomach twist in anticipation. Ellie hangs back downstairs with Mariah and Tommy and you can hear their hushed voices – you are pretty sure that they are talking about you. You want to quickly hop in the shower but when you do it's like heaven on earth – the first spray of hot water hits your sore muscles and you feel yourself start to relax. You haven't had a hot shower since the beginning of the outbreak and you missed it so badly. You try to scrub all of the grime and blood from your skin and hair but it seems like mission impossible and you stay in the shower for far longer than the 10 minutes you said. When you step out of the shower you look at yourself in the mirror – at your face and the bags under your eyes, at your body scattered with scars and the thought of Joel not liking what he will see quickly flashes through your mind but you push it away just as quickly as it came – this was a different world. You wrap the fluffy towel around yourself and sigh in bliss. The clothes Mariah gave you fit you and maybe it's that much of your style – but they are clean and smell like they were just pulled fresh out of the washing machine. When you come down quickly the banter stops between the three of them and you can hear Ellie say that “great, you finally don't look like shit”. She grabs you by the arm and leaves the house – dragging you through the streets of Jackson. She walks quickly for someone so small and you try to keep up with her – the new winter coat you wear is flowing behind you with the speed you are walking.

When you arrive at the house Joel and Ellie live you try to catch your breath muttering that you are not as young as you used to be – Ellie just rolls her eyes and steps on the porch which creaks under her footsteps. You like the house – at least from the outside – you imagined something like that when you planned to move with Sarah and Joel after you two marry.

“So, we are here. Take off your boots when you come in – Joel hates cleaning up the snow I leave behind when I come in and walk in boots through the house.” You nod but then she is pushing you in and you throw her a scared look.

“You are not coming with me?” You hiss and she just shakes her head as if it was the stupidest thing she has ever heard.

“No. Enjoy your time together. I don't want to hear you two fucking.” And then she shuts the doors behind you with a force you didn't even know a little kid could possess. Right after she do you hear a gruffed “Ellie I told you to wait for me we talked about -” he stops mid-sentence and you feel like all of the air in your lungs leaves your body when comes into the view, He looks older – but somehow more handsome then you've last seen him. The grey in his hair suits him, and the patches in his beard are now more prominent than they were before. He looks good – more than good. You don't know what to do or say. The two of you just keep staring at each other – he looks you up and down and you see his breath becoming quicker. You're the first one to break the silence.

“Hi, Joel. Long time no see.” You laugh quietly and the tears in your eyes leave your vision blurred. You're the one who moves first too and you hug him tightly – he changed over the years, he's softer and he doesn't smell like he did back in the days – but there's something about his presence that feels entirely like Joel and you grab onto his plaid shirt – squeezing it in your fists. You don't want to pull away – you never want to leave him again but when you feel him not responding to the hug you slowly pull away and look into his eyes. He's scanning your face and now you see tears in his eyes as well. The weight of his calloused hands is more than welcome and you close your eyes when you feel his thumbs slowly stroke your cheeks. The small escapes your throat and you nod when he quietly – oh, so quietly murmurs - “you are alive.”. You stay like that for a while – both of you don't dare to move in case this was all just a dream. You want to hug him again – to feel him against you but when you try to pull him closer to you he unexpectedly quickly pulls you away. You look at him confused and he wipes his tears away – he doesn't know how to act around you. It's been too long. He buried the memories of you and never wanted them to resurface. The knowledge that you are alive and here right in front of him hits him like a fright train. It scares the fucking shit out of him.

He clears his throat and avoids your gaze when he asks you if you want to sit – you agree hastily - you didn't take off your boots like Ellie said and you contemplate for a flash of a second that maybe you should - when you see the change in his stance and attitude. He's trying to distance himself from you and you don't understand why – wasn't he glad you were here?

You look around the living room. It's spacey and you hate that small painting of deer above the fireplace. You quickly scan the bookshelf and figure most of the books are Ellies. When you sit on the worn-off couch you expect that Joel will sit next to you – but he moves across the room and keeps standing. You are confused and you don't understand – you never expected your reunion to go this way. It stays quiet and you break the silence once again – he never was much of a talker anyway- you and Sarah kept the house full of laughter and it was never quiet thanks to both of you – and he never thought he would miss it that much.

“I met Ellie. She actually dragged me here.” You chuckle but he doesn't respond – this was such a bad idea. He tears your heart apart with his stoic stance and silence and doesn't even know it. But he can't bring himself to speak or move – he worries if he does you will disappear.

“Okay, I guess I will go.” He wants to tell you to stay here with him. But alas nothing comes out of his mouth – though when he sees the ring on your neck he gasps and you throw him a questioning look.

“You-you kept it after all these years.” You are confused but when you see where his gaze is trained you look at your engagement ring and smile. “Yeah, I-uh, I've never stopped thinking about you or Sarah you know.” He sharply inhales, he wants to tell you so much. “And every time I look at it I hear her annoyed voice scolding you on how you proposed.” You snort and he grins softly remembering your light laughter and Sarah's huffing on how un-romantic he was.

“Babe just another five minutes, please.” You grumble and feel him smile against your skin – his patchy beard scratching your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and your breath hitches when you feel his tongue flatten against your pulse point. He hums against your skin and nips at your skin – you try to push him away but he just grins wider and hovers above you.

“You know you said that six times now come on, want to take you somewhere nice. Promise I will make it worth it.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you giggle at his antics – he was the one who slept in most of the time – but on days like this – where you feel exhausted from the previous night's session of amazing sex – you feel like you could sleep till afternoon. You slowly kiss the bald spot on his beard and one of your hands sneaks to the band of boxers – he grabs your hand quickly and shakes his head at you.

“Na-ah, won't work on me this time, sweetheart. You can't seduce me.” You just hum and kiss the spot between his shoulder blade and neck – gently scraping your hand through his already tousled hair. His eyes flutter close for a moment and it's now your turn to grin against his skin. You know you won.

“Mmm, I don't know but you left your girlfriend pretty unsatisfied last night.” You try to push the smile off your face when he quickly opens his eyes at your words – you know he never backs down from a challenge.

“Oh?” You hum and finally cup his semi-hard cock in your hand. He grunts and you smile, biting your lip when he slowly puts his fingers inside your panties. “So wet for me already baby, was three orgasms last night not enough for you, mhm?” He asks when he pushes two fingers inside of you and you gasp – arching your back and he squeezes one of your breasts – his now hard cock strains against his boxers.

“How do you know I-oh fuck. Didn't fake it?” you grit out when his fingers brush against the spongy spot inside of you – his thumb drawing circles on your clit leisurely. His eyes darken at your question and he hooks the two of his fingers inside of you – it feels too good and all you can do is just moan in pure bliss.

“Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I know. This sweet pussy grips me like a vice when you cum. Guess I need to remind you.” The other hand that was squeezing your tit now goes higher and he strokes your jaw – you grant his access to your mouth and he growls when you bite on his lower lip and your go to the back of your head when he speeds his hand – his tongue sliding into your mouth and when he pulls away you kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Guess you do.” he mumbles something alongside “such a smart mouth” before his hands grab you around your throat and put small pressure on it – you shudder and he just hums when he feels you close. “Gonna cum for me, won't you?” You just nod and when you finally do cum – you bite his shoulder, your nails scraping across his back. He pulls his fingers out of you and sticks them in your mouth – you hum around them and push him so he is the one laying on his back.

“I have to return the favor.” You throw him a cheeky look and he just mutters an “oh god” when you pull him out of his boxers – the tip already red and sensitive, leaking precum out of it. "Guess I will have my breakfast early."

An hour later Sarah is already up and grins at you. You bid her a good morning – you try to look presentable – you've already brushed your teeth, changed and you smile at her when you see that she made pancakes.

“Sooo, do you like the ring?” she asks and you stop pouring coffee into Joel's mug. He throws Sarah a quick look of “don't say another word, please” but she ignores him. “You know, the one dad proposed with?” your go slack-jawed and look at Joel who quickly scrambles to his feet from the chair and pulls you to him.

“What is she talking about, Joel? You ask and he uncertainly smiles and bends one knee – you see the little black velvet box and when he opens it you gasp – the ring inside of it is beautiful – simple and elegant and tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh my god, dad. You said you would propose before the sunset.” Joel shrugs his shoulders and keeps his gaze trained on you.

“That was the plan but were… preoccupied.” He grins at the last word and Sarah mutters a quick “gross” but starts looking for that old stupid camera to make wvideo of the proposal– hoping you would say yes. She thought of you almost like a mother and when Joel told her he wanted to marry you she squealed in delight.

“So whad’ya say, sweetheart? Will you marry me? Even though I am proposing in our kitchen and with my pajamas on.” You nod and he lets out a breath of relief – when he stands up you kiss him passionately.

“You won't get rid of me now that easily, Texas.” You whisper against his lips as he wipes your tears away.

“And I wouldn't have it any other way.” You couldn't wait for the new chapter of your life with Joel and Sarah by your side

Joel stays quiet for a long time after your confession and he almost misses you leaving – but he registers the door shutting softly. He falls onto the floor – putting his hand on his heart which seems like it will fall out of his chest any moment- his breath is quick and he can't seem to calm himself down. His ears are ringing and he registers the flow of tears after they fall on his cheeks and into his mouth – the salty flavor of them sits heavy in his mouth – and he wishes he could be man enough and run after you. But he doesn't – he stays sitting up on his living room floor the face of you haunting his mind alongside with the old memories

Tommy was right. Your fiánce was not the person you once knew. Joel seems to be avoiding you because you've been in Jackson for a week now and didn't see him at all. Not that you minded after seeing his enthusiasm – or rather lack of – at seeing you. You try to not think about it that much and throughout the day you occupy yourself – at night you cry a lot – Mariah always comes to your room and shushes you to sleep or if you are talkative that night she lets you talk. It's like having a girls' night but more…depressing. The people in Jackson are nice and you try to help everywhere you can. Whether it be with kids or at the canteen. Helping with sheep or horses – you often go and visit Buckley – he soothes your ongoing nerves. Joel will have to come out of hiding one day. And you are not ready for that. On the other side Ellie seems to hang with you a lot – the day after your meeting with Joel she almost tackled you to the ground when she forcefully asked what did you do to Joel – you have to give it to her, that girl got spirit and an undying loyal heart like the man she is living with. After trying to explain it to her –it was very hard because she thinks Joel can do no wrong really – and you are not saying he did, she gave in pretty easily and started hanging out with you.

You are staying at Tommy for a while – at least before you decide if you will leave which is very unlikely or they will try to find you another accommodation. She comes there every afternoon and brings her science books – you found an anatomical book in the library one day and kept it with you – and you try and teach her the various Latin words or show her where is what on her body – three days ago you two drew a life-sized human and marked bones on it and such. You've met other people too and learned that the shy cowboy's name was Henry – he asked you out and you admired him for his braveness but you told him you are probably closer to his mother's age than to be his girlfriend.

Tommy went and tried talking to Joel too but you both know how stubborn he can be and when you asked him how did it go he just shook his head low and offered you a sad smile. Today you wanted to help an old lady, Mrs.Grempinks - or something like that – with knitting. Her hands were shaking the past few days and she felt sad – you offered her help and she accepted – she doesn't need to know you do not know how to knit at all. At least it will maybe make her feel better that she is not the only one in the room with poor knitting skills. On the way to her, you come across Ellie and she lets out a relieved sigh when she spots you.

“Here you are I've been looking everywhere for you.” she empathizes the word everywhere and starts dragging you with her – where you aren't sure.

“Hey, Ellie. Slow down. Ellie!” you shriek when you figure out where exactly she is dragging you – to her – Joel's- house and you burrow your heels into the snow-covered ground.

“Joel isn't home and I want to show you something really cool – I've been working on it for the past couple of days after you borrowed me your anatomy book.” You want to protest and you turn around in the direction of Mrs. Grempkin's house but you don't have the heart to tell Ellie that you don't have time and Joel is not home and you would leave soon enough anyways – she will just show you her little project and then it's gonna be as if you never even put your foot in the house again. When she pulls you inside she again quickly closes the door behind you and dread overcomes you – oh no she didn't – she shows you the two keys in her hand and you know the other one is Joels. She locked you out.

“I am sorry but both of you are miserable and you have to talk it out!” There is nothing to talk about with Joel – he doesn't need your presence near him, it's been clear and you mouth a quiet “please, Ellie, don't do this” while you jumble with the handle. It's no use and you sigh thumping your forehead against the door. You quietly take your boots off this time and start looking around the house – looking for Joel to tell him what just happened.

You find him in his workshop – it's nice and you stay in the doorway while looking around. You see the various little wooden figures and you find it cute that he found something he can get lost in. The various guitars on the wall peak your interest – you've always loved when he played and his back is still turned on you while he focuses on his woodwork – you enter the room slowly and when you touch one of his guitars a low “hi” echoes throughout the room. His back is turned still but his hands stopped moving and he is sitting still.

“Didn't know you could hear me.” You say and he chuckles lowly.

“I'd be dead by now if I didn't hear someone sneaking up on me.” He says and you hum acknowledgment – when he finally turns to look at you your breath hitched because he is so effortlessly handsome it hurts. You cross your arms around your chest.

“I wasn't sneaking up on you.”

“Sure you weren't.” He throws you a grin and it's different than the last time you talked – or didn't really – to him. He is more relaxed and he actually looks like he doesn't mind seeing you in his house. It's quiet for a while but not that uncomfortable silence that suffocates. You look at one another and you take him all in – his aquiline nose and his full lower lip, his brown eyes and you look at the dip of his neck – licking your lips. It's suddenly too hot in here with the way his gaze burns into you.

“I am sorry.” He offers and you don't understand what for – or you do – you just want him to expand that sentence because you felt like a fool the last time you were here. “I am sorry for the way I reacted but I never thought I'd see you again and when you just appeared in my house I was overwhelmed with emotions I didn't know I could still feel. After Sarah died I-” He chokes and you are in front of him in a blink of a second – cupping his cheeks and he closes his eyes bathing in your gentle touch which he doesn't deserve - or at least he thinks so

“You don't have to tell me anything. Tommy told me and I-I am sorry what happened to Sarah. And everything you've been through, Joel.” You say and he opens his eyes and shakes his head – none of what happened was your fault and you shouldn't be sorry. He was glad you weren't with him when all of it went to shit because you'd probably be here by now. It's easy to be this intimate with him and you bask in the way he lets you touch – you expect him to pull away like last time – but he doesn't. Instead, he brings his lips closer to yours and searches for your gaze which drops when he licks his lower lip.

“I want to kiss you, sweetheart,” he murmurs and your lips are almost – almost touching when he says so. His forehead is pressed up against yours and your hands that were previously holding his face now move behind his neck – your nails scratch the spot behind his ear gently and he closes his eyes – whether in pure bliss or to hold himself back you don't know – though if its the latter you don't want that. “Need to kiss you,” he adds. You just nod your head in agreement – you wanted nothing more than to kiss him the last time you saw him.

“What are you waiting on then, Texas?” You tease and you feel him smile into the kiss – it's just a gentle press of lips – as if he was testing the waters. One of his hands grabs your hip – squeezing it – and the other moves behind your head and pushes you closer – he needs you closer. The wet press of his lips is more urgent now and his tongue licks your lower lip. You grant him access into your mouth and then the kiss becomes more urgent, more passionate, more desperate – Joel was always a good kisser and you always enjoyed just making out with him late at night to some bad movie that was on the TV. The hand on your hip moves lower and he cups your ass – you moan into his mouth and he hums, the other hand now stroking the hinge of your jaw. Your hands scratch his scalp and he almost but purrs – pulling away from you he plants butterfly kisses across your face.

“Bedroom?” The question seems silly – you need him and if you'd be any younger you'd jump his bones right here on the floor. But you are not so you nod and he pecks your lips quickly before he grabs your hand – squeezing your fingers in his – and leads you to his bedroom. When you enter it he closes the door more forcefully than needed and before you have time to look around he is pushing you onto the bed – your back hits the mattress and he grins – he hasn't seen this sight in over 20 years and he is enjoying every second of it. You sit up and pull him by the collar of his shirt. He is quick with it – his mouth on yours again and his hands start exploring your body – they go from your thighs up to your tummy and then higher – he squeezes your tits – you moan and his hands move higher cupping your cheeks tenderly. He pulls away and moves your hair out of your face.

“Need you so badly.” He pants – and you feel just the same. You feel him start undressing you but you want to make this last as long as possible. You push him away and he seems confused before you are pushing him on his back – your sit on his lap and you feel how hard he is under his jeans – you test the waters and grind down on him – your hands on his chest and he really wants to keep his eyes open but the feel of you on him makes him feel like he's fuckin teenager again that will bust his load into his pants any second. “Fuck, gonna make me cum before the real fun even begins and I am not young as I used to be. If that happens I will have to eat you out at least three times.” You grin and bend down to kiss his neck – your tongue leaving hot trails in its wake. He sits up with you and his hands fly to your lower back to support you. He surges forward – his tongue exploring your mouth, mapping your teeth with it and when you feel his hands trying to take your shirt off – you tug him by the hair roughly – his hips bucking up to meet yours as he moans your name brokenly.

“Slow down, baby. Want to appreciate you.” You push his chest so he will be laying again – he wants to protest but you put one of your fingers to his lips. The look he gives you is downright sinful before he is sucking it into his mouth – his teeth nipping it and you can't look away from his advances. His tongue peaks out and you feel the way he swirls it around your digit just like used to when he ate you out. You moan brokenly and put another one there and he bites into them softly. The small butterfly kisses you leave on his scar from his suicide attempt makes him drop your fingers from his mouth as he groans loudly – he feels so fucking appreciated and loved at this moment that it makes his head dizzy. “Need to see you, baby. Sit up.” He does and you unbutton his shirt slowly one by one while he kisses your jaw and your neck – sucking at it once in a while his tongue flattens out against your pulse point where he leaves a mark.

“Fuck, want you to take your shirt off too.” You don't have time to comply before he is pulling it over your head and you are not wearing any bra – the one Mariah gave you did not fit you – and he immediately reaches for them. He pinches one of your nipples while he sucks on your other one and you throw your head back – it always felt this good with him. Sex with him was easy and he was a generous lover. The only man that had ever made you cum. When pulls away he frowns when he sees the deep red scar close to your heart.

“Someone stabbed me but as you can see I am alive and well. Don't worry about it, We all have our own scars.” Your thumb slides across the one next to his temple and he nods – he is angry at himself though. Maybe if he was with you it wouldn't happen. Maybe if he'd try to look for you harder. Maybe…”Hey, Joel. You still with me?” You stroke his bicep and he nods before you peck him gently. “Strip out of these, will you? Want to suck your dick.” You pat his jeans-clad thigh and his jaw rocks forward. You sit on the bed and he makes quick work of his jeans and his boxer – his cock is bobbing with need and you open your mouth awaiting.

The first lick sends him into overdrive and he grips your hair and tries telling you to take him deeper – just a little bit deeper. You drool and the spit starts to cover his balls – it's messy and the sounds he makes sound like straight up from porn. His head is thrown back and he gets lost in the feel of you – your mouth – and he can't believe you are here with him. He feels his balls pull up tighter and he pulls it out quickly before he is bending down to kiss you – he doesn't register the surprised sound you make when he pushes his tongue almost all the way back down your throat.

You taste like him because you are his, his, his and the growing need he has for you makes him almost rip your new pants before he is working his fingers inside of you – the familiar wetness and tightness make him feel like he is 30 again – and you cry out. He drills into you and snarls when your nails dig into his forearm, his nose bumps against yours and he wants to kiss you but he concentrates on making you cum because he wants to be inside of you. To mark you as his. His to kiss and hiss to make you cum and his to love and his, his, his. He searches for that spot and his other hand sneaks onto your inner thigh – when he finds it – he can hear it from the high-pitched moan that you let out. He smacks you onto your inner thigh and you jump forward and try to get away from him. It's too much – his fingers, his groans and talks and his tongue that find its way into your mouth. He's too much and he can feel you are almost there – almost. He grabs your throat and his eyes watch your Adam's apple bob – his thumb putting slight pressure on it. The squelching sounds of your pussy make him double his efforts and he can feel you getting closer and closer with every pass of his fingers through your walls – your pleas echoing through the room. He knows you need more and he grins menacingly when he sees how your pussy glistens with your juices and soak his hand.

“Fuck, sweetheart look at you. Soaking me. You want to cum?” He knows you do and he is downright cruel when he slows down and you sob because you want to cum – you nod and he is not happy with that – swatting you against your inner thigh once again before repeating that question.

“Yes, yes, Joel! I want to cum, please make me cum!” You feel on a verge of tears and he kisses you softly before he continues his previous efforts – his thumb now circling your clit and it's the additional stimulation you needed. He curses when he feels you squeeing him and he works you through it – your vision goes white and all you can think about is Joel and how good he is – before you come back down and he is still working his way inside of you and suddenly its too much – you try to push him away but the hand on your thigh just grips you harder – the blunt nails of his digging into your thigh.

“Please, Joel, Too much, it's too much!” You cry out but it's like he can't hear you and he bites your lower lip, his fingers never stopping and you can feel him pulling another orgasm out of you – you can feel him grin against your mouth and murmuring “that's it, such a good girl for me, sweetheart” before you are cuming again. Your legs shake and the moans you let out die down when he puts his coated fingers of your cum in your mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head – he is kissing you and then telling you to “share with him” and it's so fucking nasty – a string of saliva connecting you both before he is wiping his mouth. You are sedated and when he reaches for something in his bedside table you don't really care. The sound of foil tearing makes you open your eyes and you see how he pulls the condom on his dick before he is crawling to you.

“Come on, sweetheart. You gonna ride me.” He says and you don't feel like you have that much of a choice – he is pulling you on top of him and before you know it he notches the head of his dick between your folds. You grab the base of him and slowly sink down on him – you forgot how fucking thick and big he was and you need a moment before you start moving. Your muscles are sore and your throat is dried up from all the moaning and screaming but when you look down to see Joel's blissed-out expression – you start to move slowly. He lets you ride him at your own pace – you are the one in control now and he's here only for the right. He strokes his thumbs o your sides and then opens his eyes he feels like he will come right there and then. Your tits bounce with every pass of his cock against your walls and the way your head is thrown back and your throat on full display – his fingers twitch as he has the urge to bring you by your throat and kiss you.

The leisurely pace only lasts for a while before you can feel another orgasm build inside of you – the hair on the base of his cock scratch your clit deliciously. You dig your nails into his shoulders – one of your hands grabbing his jaw when you kiss him – he lets you and his hands move from your hips to your ass – squeezing the flash in his palms. You moan when you feel one of his hands sneak toward your clit but you push him away – breaking from the kiss.

“I am the one that is now in control, Texas.” The smirk you give him makes his cock twitch and he nods – his Adam's apple bobbing when he gulps and you til his chin up as you sink your teeth gently into it. He holds onto you tighter – your pace unfaltering and he wants to cum – needs to – but not before you. His heels dig into the mattress and you pull back to stop moving as your hips start to sway in a figure of eight. It does nothing for him and he whines – whines – in protest. You tell him to “shut up” because you are so so fucking close and that's when he grits his teeth together – his patience runs thin. His hands grab the chain with his ring on it – the only thing you are wearing – and he pulls you towards him by it. The look you throw him is absolutely wrecked and when you are close to his mouth – you need to kiss him, want to taste him – he pulls his head away from you to put the ring between his teeth. That alone almost makes you cum and you can't look away from him – even when he grabs you by the flash of your ass – and start sinking you down on him. You are completely mesmerized by the ring in his mouth and before you know it you are cuming – he slaps your ass when you do and you jolt forward – the ring falling from his mouth when he tangles his tongue with yours.

He fucks you through it and he sits up – his heels planting into the mattress so he can chase his own orgasm – he puts the ring into your mouth now and if he could he would take a picture of you like this – his ring between your teeth while he fucks you silly and your gorgeous body putty in his hands. His balls slap against the meat of your thighs and he puts his forehead on your chest – you can feel the small droplets of his sweat roll down his forehead. He pants and you know he is close – his pace now frantic as he kisses your chest. His lips make their way to your throat and every pass of his cock makes your walls twitch. You feel every vein of his and the head of him pushes against your g-spot. You start meeting his thrusts – pulling him closer to your neck as the only thing he can now do is groan and whine. He can feel your quick pulse and the way your fingers tangle in his locks as you tug him by it – you are overstimulated but he doesn't want this to stop. Never wants this to stop.

“Come on, baby. Want you to cum in me,” You whine and he shakes his head – he doesn’t want to, he doesn't, he doesn't…and then he is cumming as he empties his seed into the condom. He thrusts up at you a few times as he pushes himself through the afer shocks – you can feel him twitch in you before his body goes limp and you fall on him. He strokes your shoulder blades and you listen to his slowing heartbeat – your fingers drawing little hearts on his chest. He slowly pulls out of you and grips the condom by the base of it to tie it off and he throws it into the trash can next to his bed. He pulls you closer to him and you hum – slowly drifting off to sleep exhausted and worn out.

“Love you, Joel.” You say against his neck when you kiss him there and his heart swells up at your confession. He unclasps the chain from your neck and pulls the ring on your finger as he admires it.

“Love you too, baby.” You almost don't hear him when he whispers it against your lips – but you don't need him to say it – after all Joel is a man of actions and not words. And you are perfectly fine with that.

#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #tlou #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #joel tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal ff #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou smut

[httpdollie]

— DEAD TO ME

GOJO SATORU X GN! READER X GUEST

content warning: angst, infidelity, hurt with comfort, distressed gojo men :(, model! reader, ceo! gojo, i didn’t proof read lol

word count: 4k+

part 1.

They were gone. Actually gone. The white haired man’s vision went blurry as he started to cry in the pouring rain. He stood there as you got into the cab, slamming the door and watching it speed off.

He patted down his pockets, looking for his phone before making his sulking walk back to this apartment building. He pulled out his phone and immediately started texting and calling you. He tried and tried, each time he was immediately to voicemail till he could no longer. Leaving him shocked with his mouth wide open when he realized you blocked him. Satoru felt the swiftly leave his lungs, starting to panic more as the elevator took him up to his floor.

He didn’t mean for this to happen. It was only supposed to happen once. It was 6 months ago, you were in Milan for fashion week, he promised It was a fling. Akemi had been his assistant for half a year already, and 2 weeks into her job you had told him you think she might’ve developed a little crush on him. Yeah sure he laughed it off and blushed a little when you told him but after you got a call for work and had to leave, he did think about it a little…

Your personalities were polar opposites. She was younger than you by a couple years, more family than career oriented. She was short, had long brown hair, fair skin with a beauty mark near her eyebrow. She would wear only what he thinks you’d describe as “basic bitch clothes with potential,” which was popularly known as the clean girl aesthetic. Meanwhile you were more mature and alluring compared to her soft and seemingly sweet nature. Unlike her, your style was earthy, flamboyant and unique. Fashion designers themselves have told you how inspired they are from you after shows you’ve walked in. Anytime you’d visit him at work, his own employees would stand around and gawk at you. Sometimes he’d wish you’d give up your job so he can just take care of you.

He didn’t know why he kissed Akemi for the first time when you left. He doesn’t know the reason why he kept sneaking off, lying, tricking you to sleep around with her. At first it was an accident, then it was just a habit. He never thought you’d know, he told himself all the time it was going to end soon, he was going to marry you because unlike her; you were it for him.

He walked through the door to his apartment, eyes swollen. He looked around the room, seeing Akemi, smiling wide as she wore the ring his fiancé, now ex fiancé, threw at him. His eyes wide as he practically stomped his way towards her, pulling the finger off her finger, throwing it across the room.

“Doesn’t it look pretty?”

“Can you take that off… I spent a lot of money on that.” He stood in front of her, voice strained from balling his eyes out, he slipped the ring off her finger and into his pocket. She pouted out her lip at him as he gave her a faint but fake smile.

“Well, they’re gone now, so I can finally have you to myself.” She smirked looking up at him with doe eyes, pulling him closer by the waistband of his sweatpants before getting down on her knees. He put his hand against her shoulder, taking a deep breath while looking down at her. “Just get out please.” He said calmly with a tight lipped expression.

“What?” Her round eyes go wide, brimming with tears.

“I said out! Leave!” He points to the door, watching her quickly get up and run to his room, slamming the door. Silence took up the room, soon she came out huffing and puffing with tears streaming down her face. Guilt once again settled at the bottom of his stomach.

“Fuck you!” She yelled at him. “I thought you loved me!” She cried out as she reached for the door, looking back at him for a response. Gojo stared at her, mouth open to say something before snapping shut. With a blank expression, he told her to close the door on her way out. She huffed before slamming the door shut. The blue-eyed man facepalmed, pulling his phone out of his pocket to call his best friend to unload the his big time fuck up.

You called your mother in the cab, telling her you’d be staying the night with your manager, Shoko. When in reality you were making your way to the nearest bar. You push the tinted glass door, revealing your wet figure to the dim lit room. Jazz music is softly playing in the background as your shoes squeak against the clean floors. The bar was empty, you prayed to yourself that this place wasn’t about to close. You called out, no noise to be heard before the silence was interrupted with the sound of dishes clashing together. You sit on the bar stool, taking your jacket off and placing it on the empty stool next to you. You look at the empty bar, huffing as you rested your face in your hands trying to hold back your tears. Hearing someone walk towards you, standing in front of you, behind the counter of the bar stood a tall man.

“You okay? Have a rough day at work?” The deep voice questioned, looking down at you. You peered up at the blonde man and gave him a weak smile, sniffing a little bit before trying to make yourself more presentable.

“Definitely not at work but you can say it was pretty rough.” You lightly laugh at yourself, trying to hold more tears back.

“Well if that’s the case do you want something strong or something sweet?” he spoke softly like he was concerned.

“Maybe a bit of both but only one drink, can’t be seen in public wasted.” You replied quietly.

“Came to the right bar then, I’m Nanami, I own the place.” He introduced himself. The blonde turned around, grabbing a tall glass, liquor and syrups off the shelf.

“I’m Y/n”

“Oh, I know.”

“You do?” You questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Gojo’s fiancé? He doesn’t shut up about you when he comes here and drinks all my alcohol with his employees.” He replied, while pouring your drink into your glass

“Well, he’s officially my ex fiancé as of today.” You corrected, he turned around giving you a tight lipped smile.

“I’m sorry about that.” He placed the pink drink in front of you.

“I’m not.” You smiled, this time with confidence before looking at the drink. “A cosmopolitan? Love your thinking.” You commented, taking a sip of the drink.

“Of course, cocktails are a personal favourite.” A content smile formed on his face at the compliment. “You can always do better than a man like him, not very respectable in my opinion.”

“Are you supposed to talk about your customers that way?” You said as you laughed, making him join as well.

“Only the ones I don’t like.” He chuckled

“Hope I stay on your good side then.”

Days had gone by without a word from Gojo after his initial call to Geto. Now he stood in front of the man’s apartment, typing in the pin to unlock the door. Geto walked through the usually tidy apartment— now in its fallen stark. He looked at the piled up dishes and crushed beer cans on the floor, mentally preparing himself for the state Satoru would be in. He was crying hysterically when Geto saw him. Gojo wasn’t on to cry much, usually just laughing off his emotions, like it was nothing. Right now, he was a mess.

“I fucked up,” Satoru said in between sobs. Geto made his way to Gojo, pulling him up off the bed by his arm only for him to flop back down.

“Shit isn’t going to get better with you sulking and drinking. Get up.”

“I deserve to die.” He wailed on. “How could I cheat on them?” He muttered to himself. Shoving his already puffy face back into his pillow while he continued crying.

“Quit with the pity party would ya’?” Jerking him up by his arms again, this time with more force. “Sitting at home, crying and sulking isn’t okay? You have to own your shit Satoru, you have a company you need to take care of, I can only do so much redirecting projects and rescheduling clients while you’re gone.” He groaned before adding, “Also Akemi is gone, you should be glad you weren’t there for that mess.”

Gojo rubbed his face; taking a deep breath in, trying to shake the groggy feeling away. “I just miss them. I miss Y/n.” Satoru wept. Refusing to look at his best friend, shameful.

Geto looked at his hunched over friend. Admittedly he wasn’t fond of what his friend did to you. He was the one who introduced the two of you, he had been your friend longer than he could remember, he knew you since he was 4. Because of that, he felt guilty. Guilty, because he’s comforting him and what made him feel more guilty; is that he actually felt bad for him.

Geto instinctively put his hand on his friend's shoulder, patting him in a weird manly attempt of reassurance that he wasn’t used to giving. Telling him about how things will get better with time.

“Fuck me.”

It has been a year and a half since you last saw Gojo Satoru. You stuck to your word and left. Truly left him unlike other people who would’ve rolled over and let themselves forgive someone who betrayed them. You promised yourself happiness. You cut back on work and got a therapist. Talking to someone truly puts into perspective how much healing you really needed from having your trust broken. About 6 months after your breakup, you went on a blind date that your friend had set up… which had gone pretty bad, but you kept your hopes up. You wanted things to happen with someone organically and they did, with Nanami. He closed the bar for the day to take you out to his favourite bakery for beignets and cinnamon rolls, then to a museum and dinner later that night. Kento made you feel alive in a different way, in a way that made you feel secure. The more you were around him, the more you fell in love. Everything about him was purely charming to you

He was a former actor turned jazz bar owner (with 6 different branches). He was honest and open with you, always told you what he means, and came to every single one of your shows and events. He loved it when you’d come by during closing time after you’re done work. You’d order takeout on the way back to his place, cuddling while rewatching your favourite childhood sitcoms. Kento promised to never let you walk alone and that’s what he did.

Your friend Utahime was celebrating her birthday. As a survivor of her alcoholic tendencies during uni, she invited you telling you it’s time to get “white girl wasted.” So of course you indulged her, it was her birthday after all. Only to be told last minute your ex had to come because she works with him. She’d be lying if she said she wanted him there but her dear friend, Geto, asked and she couldn’t risk a fight with Gojo Satoru. Now you were reluctantly getting ready. You were in your walk-in closet, deciding what jewelry to wear. You had your lip tucked between your teeth while you stood there lost in thought. Nanami wraps his arms around your waist from behind, making you jump. You turn back and playfully slap his arm before turning back around, holding his hands that trap you close to him.

“Hi angel, almost ready?” He whispers into your ear before gently kissing your neck, then cheek while you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Mmhm! Just picking out my jewelry, wanna help?” You ask, he nods, letting go of you to reach forward, and looking through the drawers of your jewelry box.

“How about these?” He asked, raising his hand to show you the pair of Vivienne Westwood earrings he’d bought for your birthday.

“Pretty.” You smiled at him, turning back around to pull out the matching necklace, switching the necklace to his hand, taking the earrings in yours. “Can you help me?”

he nods, unclasping the necklace, bringing it in front of your neck, fiddling with the clasp once again, trying to get it on. Once done, he waits for you to slip the backing of your earring on, before he turns you around.

“You sure you wanna go tonight? We can stay here and

Yeah, I can do this.” You say, mostly trying to reassure yourself, which you could tell Kento picked up on. He hummed out an okay, before pulling you closer, placing a slow, sensual kiss on your lips.

“Maybe we should stay home…” You said trailing off, making him laugh at your antics.

“Let’s get going, don’t wanna be late now huh.” He teases you, letting go of you, already making his way out of your closet.

“Wait for me!”

You were greeted at the door by Utahime and her girlfriend, your manager, Shoko. You smile at the both of them, giving them a huge while being welcomed into the booming party. You hand your gift to her, who sets it down on the tables filled with them watching them run back to the door after the doorbell was rung again. Nanami slips his hand that was on the small of your back into your hand, letting you lead him through the party to the food table.

“You hungry? Didn’t eat before you left.” You ask, grabbing a couple sweets off the fancy decorative plates on display with small tongs.

“Yeah, want me to get you a drink.”

“Please?” You look at him with a cheeky smile, he squeezes your hand, and nods saying he’ll be right back. You bit your lip, watching your fine ass man walk away. You turn to continue piling sweets onto the small plate. Only to have Nanami’s favourite type of sweet bun snatched away. You look up and groan.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“How is it fancy to see me here? I introduced you to Utahime.” You replied shortly. In the last year you’ve seen him about 3 times, in little words, you were pissed at him.

“Aww don’t be like that Y/n, it’s been a while since I saw you.” He defended himself, hands raised

“Who’s fault is that?” You remarked, recalling your unread text messages.

He ignores your question. “Look ‘Toru is gonna be here tonight, he’s gonna want to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to him.” You deadpanned.

“I figured, that’s why I'm telling you now.” He said, resting his hand on your shoulder while he turned to leave. “I’m sorry for not being there for you.” He said shortly, quickly leaving after the words leave his mouth. You stand there somewhat shocked before brushing it off when Nanami comes back with a drink for you.

“None for you?” You question, taking a sip of the fruity drink.

“I’m driving, remember?”

“Oh! Yeah! Sorry, can't believe I forgot!” You said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

An hour or two has gone by, the idea of Gojo being here, unknowingly, had completely left your mind as you danced with your boyfriend. He had his arms around your waist, holding you close before you turned around to kiss him; taking him by surprise. Usually he wasn’t one for pda but nobody here would care and you, and he loved indulging in you. He smiles as he kisses you, breaking apart to comment on how eager you are, only for you to agree. One hand slips from your waist to your neck, tilting your head back to kiss you deeper. Though the room was full to the max, he managed to make you feel like the most important person there.

It had been 18 whole months since Gojo Satoru had talked to you, pure radio silent since you left him in the rain. 547 days and nights without you. If someone told him two years ago that you haven’t even read a single text of his in over a day he’d probably think you were dead… Now he was dead to you. The words alone were like experiencing a corkscrew to the heart. Yet his heart still yearned for you.

You hadn’t seen him, but after you left, he was always seeing you. Billboards, Magazines, videos. You were gone yet it felt like you were taunting him. Every now and then he sees you in public, every time he feels his breath hitch, admiring you from a distance. Even at this party, he felt suffocated by your presence. It’s been almost two years and people still ask if he’s your ex. Today was way worse than most times. It was Utahime’s birthday, though she was a CEO of her own fashion magazine company, the two were on talking terms. He got an invitation via his CFO Geto. He would’ve never thought the coquette, Sandy Liang and Miu Miu inspired fashion fanatic would have such a loud, crazy party.

Gojo pushed his way through the crowd of socialites, looking for the hard liquor Utahime always sought to drink during meetings. He scans the large room, filled with streamers, glitter and confetti. He swore he felt his heart beat slow upon realization. There you were. In the corner of a crowded room, making out with the guy that makes his drinks every friday. Satoru scoffed at the sight, taking a glass shot off a tray, downing it quickly before taking two more as he glared the blonde down.

He had one hand on your waist while the other rested on your face, caressing you gently. He stood there red in the face while he watched you smile in between the kisses you shared. The blonde kissed your forehead before saying something to you he couldn’t hear before walking towards the table Gojo stood at. He quickly made a b-line towards you. As he approached you he watched your eyes go wide, making a pain of guilt flood his body as he neared you. You anxiously slip your hands together, looking around the room, playing with your fingers trying not to make eye contact.

“Hey.”

“What do you want?” You get straight to the point, not wanting to talk any longer than you need to.

“Can we please talk? It's been so long since I saw you last and I just want closure.” Gojo spoke softly, putting his hand on your shoulder with a warm smile. You give him a confused look before brushing his hand off your arm.

“What do you need closure about?

“About how we ended things, look, I just wanna talk.” He said in that familiar pouting voice. It made you sick. “Who’s that guy you were talking with?” He asks you, as if he were jealous, his comfortability and tone being too much for you.

“He’s my boyfriend, and he’s just getting me a drink right now, can you leave me alone?” You raise your eyebrow at him, unamused.

“Yeah after you left me expla-“

“I don’t want to hear it, Gojo. It’s been a year and a half, I got over it and so should you.” You say brushing past him. Walking towards Kento, he hands you your drink before you put it down telling him how you want to leave soon, glancing back at him. Noticing his stare before walking out of his eyesight. He noticed Nanami staring, Gojo glared at him, giving him a smug look walking past him in the same direction you went. Purposefully hitting his shoulder as he walked by; glancing back as if to acknowledge him.

He found you hugging the birthday girl, smiling sweetly at your friend while chatting. He smiled to himself, reminiscing the look on your face. He watched you leave, walking out the door. Gojo passed Utahime, muttering a quick happy birthday to her before following after you. He looked around the street, once he spotted you he jogged toward you, standing in front of you to stop you.

“One chance! Please! Just one.” He pleaded, this time his voice was shaking.

You inhaled slowly, rolling your eyes at the sight. “Fine, talk”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” Right now, he looks remorseful; purely full of regret. It was weird how happy the sight made you. It made you feel guilty knowing that you’re happy to see him in distress like you were in.

“I was stupid and selfish. I didn’t know what I wanted, I wasn’t aware of what I really had.” His voice cracked, tears talked down his cheek.

You bit your lip, feeling tears wanted to come up but blink them away, instead watching tears fall down his pale skin.

“Gojo it’s fine, I'm over it. It was a long time ago.” You said exasperated. “I’ve moved on from it. You don’t need to apologize to me, you should go back inside.” You insisted, looking around for Nanami.

“Please, I'd do anything to make this right with you. I love you so much.” You look back at him, scoffing at his words.

“Gojo, I have a boyfriend. I literally just told you about so why are you doing this right now?”

Gojo looked at you wide eyed, more tears rolling down his cheek.

“Please Y/n… I need you.”

“You need me? Are you serious? You expect me to up and leave my boyfriends for the man that cheated on me?” You were met with silence from him. You turn your heel as if to leave, only to turn back to him.

“You’re obsessed, Satoru. You’re the one who hurt me! I don’t owe you an explanation for leaving you, you should just accept it and move on. It’s called letting go!” You exclaimed loudly, meeting the end of your patience. “The entirety of that year, you told me I had nothing to worry about, reassuring me, comforting me when you were just gaslighting me! Do you know how crazy I felt making excuses for you never coming to plans with our friends knowing you were lying to me?” You asked angrily. “I don’t know how long you’ve been fucking her, all that I care about is you being out of my life, forever. I don’t want you anymore and I never needed you. Not like I need him so let me be happy.” You shouted, chest heaving up and down as you tried calming yourself down.

Gojo opened his mouth, about to speak only for you to interject.

“Gojo, I hope the best for you, I truly do, I just hope that your best is nowhere near my happiness.”

Satoru felt his heart once again stop. For the second time tonight he felt frozen and unsure of what to say or do. Tears welled up in his eyes, his hand reaching for yours but stopped after seeing a figure walking up behind you.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Y/n, I never wanted to hurt you.”

You felt a hand gently rest itself onto your shoulder, you looked back to see your boyfriend, you felt your lip quiver as you looked at him. He opens his arms, pulling you into a side hug, guiding you away from Satoru. You took Nanami’s hand into yours, walking away from Gojo. Kento muttered about how strong you were into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your face. He gave your hand a tight squeeze, walking you towards the car, his hand left yours, opening your door. He gives you his hand as you step into the car. Closing the door for you once you’re buckled in. He turns, making eye contact with the white haired man, before smirking at him, giving a small wave.

Kento promised to never let you walk alone and that’s what he did.

© httpdollie 2023

#— dolly writes #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #jjk angst #gojo satoru x gn reader #nanami kento x gn reader

[pinkie-pop]

"We've Seen The Devil—He Was Hiding In The Mirror."

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Featuring: Gender-Neutral Reader, Twisted Wonderland Various x Reader, Self-Aware AU, Yandere TWST

Synopsis: A promise as foolish as it is irrevocable. I hope you're happy with yourself. The real oath is made.

Word count: 3.1k

Includes: Drugging, magical branding, possessiveness, obsession, maggots/spider mention (briefly), murderous implications, manipulation

"You are no savior—nor purpose nor God. You are damnation—a phony and fraud."

--------------

You nearly jump out of your skin as your instincts propel you backwards—right into the arms of the one you should be running from. 

"Y-Yuu! What...what's wrong with you?! You scared the life out of me…" Yuu chuckles, breath tickling the skin on your neck. They squeeze you a little tighter in their hold before finally releasing you. You stumble back, holding a hand to your chest as you try to calm your erratic heartbeat. 

"Oh! Sorry, did I frighten you?" Are they seriously trying to feign ignorance right now? Your train of thought is interrupted as they bend down, picking up the books you were reading (when did you drop those?) and examining them closely. They make a show out of turning each over, even going so far as to blow non-existent dust off of the covers. "Didn't I say it was rude to go through another person's things? Really, to read a poor maiden's diary while they're away, how shameless…"

"Your 'diary' is very clearly addressed to me," you retort, unfazed by Yuu's theatrics. Their innocent demeanor melts away, an all-too-familiar smirk popping up in its place. "Why shouldn't I read it?" 

"Aha, [Name] is so smart! You're right, it is addressed to you, and everything that is mine is yours. Even so, I recommend you don't go poking around in here."

"Well, why not?"

"Because…" Yuu looks away, a very uncharacteristic gesture. They mumble something incomprehensible, then snap their head back to you with a smile. "That's why!" 

You stare at them, unimpressed. They stare back at you with such intensity you feel near forced to look away—lest you get swept up in their gaze. You want to ask them to repeat themselves, but you know by now that asking things directly will never yield you answers. You have no choice but to participate in their mind games. 

"Well, if you don't want me to read it, perhaps you should have considered hiding it?" 

"The Wraith doesn't work like that, I'm afraid." You hold your breath, praying for them to continue. To give you any information onthe innerworkings of the bizarre encampment you’ve found yourself in. Yuu flips through one of the books you had been holding and sighs. "You already know about Wraiths, don't you? Fine, I suppose I can indulge your curiosity, just a little. This Wraith—our Wraith—is intrinsically tied to the both of us. If you look for something here, you'll be sure to find it. Many of the books here store memories, and they can't be taken out. Hence why I can't just hide my diary from you." That's…valuable information. Far more valuable than you had been expecting. 

You take a moment to dissect everything that you've just learned. Yuu waits patiently as you comb through the information. Every so often, you catch a glance from them. They never stop smiling, do they?

The place you're in now, the Wraith, is likely to be the second type mentioned in the book you had been reading. It's a place born from death, and it has a connection not just to you, but to Yuu as well. Does that mean that you're dead? What about Yuu? They first came here when they 'shut down', was that death? What about when you took their hand? What was that? Your head was starting to spin.

“Aw, I can see the cogs in your head turning; you must be thinking so hard!” Yuu’s cheerful voice annoys you, but you do your best to ignore them. “Do you want some help, little one? Do you want me to give you the answer?” Hesitantly, you peer back up at them, eyes full of suspicion. 

“What’s the catch?” If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Night Raven, it’s that there’s always a catch.

“All I ask for is your attention,” they say. When you don’t respond, they add: “You don’t have to love me—just promise that you won’t leave. I don’t know what I’d do with myself if you did.” There’s a hint of desperation in their voice, a panic that threatens to spill out of them growing louder with every second you remain silent. You don’t know what to say. What can you say? 

Yuu steps closer to you. 

“Promise me, okay? Promise that you won’t leave.” Their smile is gone, replaced with pure pleading as they press their body against yours. Their embrace used to feel like a python squeezing itself around you, like a spider encasing you in its web, but now, it’s different. Now it feels like the hug of a scared child. Their voice and body is shaking. Only a second ago, they were teasing you as if there was no tomorrow, now, they cling on to you as if you are the only thing left. The power between you two has shifted dramatically, causing you to wonder if their previous bravo was nothing more than a facade—a shield to hide their own feelings. You feel a little sorry for them. 

“Okay. I won’t.” 

“Do you promise?” They pull back to look at you, tears dotting their eyes. Your heart clenches at the sight. “I promise,” you say. In an instant, their tears are gone, replaced by a victorious smile as they drag you into yet another hug. Your heart drops, were they…tricking you? Were they only pretending to cry, just so you would feel pity and take their side? You are so wrapped up in these thoughts that you barely register the way they squeeze you tighter, tangling you in their arms like the tail of a python, like the web of a spider. You are so wrapped up that you do not even notice the prickling sensation on your wrist, as if you are being burned by something. 

“So, what do you want to know?”

“I want to know about you. What…what are you, exactly?” Yuu ponders the question for a minute, then hands you a book, you read the page they’re pointing to. 

Homunculus:

(Editor’s note: the following passage has no scientific backing and should be taken with a grain of salt.)

Literally “Little man”. A theoretical alchemical construct made to mimic human life. Technically biological, they are distinct from the Golem, which is made of non-organic material. This is often considered a moot pont, though, because homunculi are nothing more than fables…or so they say. The truth behind homunculi is far darker than what your textbooks would lead you to believe. In reality, homunculi can be created; they are not just theoretical. In fact, there have already been successful trials in their development. But, “why are you speaking of this in a book meant to be about ghosts?”, I hear you say. Well, my dear reader, that all comes down to how they’re made. As you likely know, alchemy is based upon the principal of equivalent exchange. So, how does one create a human body with alchemy, all while following the rule of exchange? 

Well, my dear reader, it’s rather simple: you just need a human. 

“You’re…a homunculus?” “No, sorry, wrong page.” They take the book back and flip to (presumably) the correct passage. "I was going to keep this from you, but you're just so cute, I can't help but bare my heart to you~" Yuu hands you the book again, then twirls around behind you, peeking at the page from over your shoulder. A bead of sweat runs down your back as you read the correct passage. You’d read it before, but scary stories are always scarier when the monster is standing behind you. 

“Lonesome Ghosts”

“You read this one, right?” You nod, trying not to let your fright show. “Well, this poem is about a face stealer—you already figured that out, though, didn’t you? You also figured out which character is meant to represent me, right?” You can’t see them, but you can feel the grin on their breath. 

“I was always…different from the other three. I don’t remember much from back then, but I do remember the weary glances the others would toss me from time to time. We didn’t get along, I think. Even so, I stuck around. Waiting for my purpose,” Yuu pauses, an unchracteristic tint of solemness in their voice. “I tried a bunch of different things, trying to spark a passion, but nothing ever worked. I was getting desperate, and ended up doing something unforgivable. The three cast me out, and I spent decades wandering the world, looking for my purpose. I never found it, so I thought I’d go back to the house, hoping time had taken the edge off our little squabble. That’s when I found them. A human in a coffin, whose lid was about to be blown off. Yuu.”

“It felt like I was seeing color for the very first time. Like I was alive. I had to have them—no, I had to be them. I had to take their skin and wear it as my own. I had to have what they did. And when I did, that was it. My purpose. What I had been waiting for all along. You.”

“My past washed away the second I entered their body. I became a blank slate with no past or history, but even so, I felt complete. The ghosts didn’t even recognize me when I came back, you know? I didn’t recognize them, either, though. I had forgotten everything. Maybe they did, too. But I didn’t forget forever. When I shut down and created the Wraith, my memories started to resurrface. You ruined me, you know? I lost everything when I met you. But, you know that I’m not angry about it, right? After all, the old me was broken. The old me didn’t have you. It was worthless. You gave me worth. It’s because of you that I’m anything at all.” 

“You took away my entire being, and replaced it with something better. Just like you did with everyone else.”

Yuu’s words start to blur together as your eyes loose focus. It’s hard to tell what’s going on, and even harder to tell what’s causing it. You think, briefly, that you are having a panic attack, but it is hard to tell. Your breathing is rapid and shallow, and you feel as if the whole world has run out of air. You don’t notice yourself stumbling towards the door, but you do notice the way you trip over yourself. You notice the way you are falling to the ground in slow, agonizing motion. You do not react. You can’t. It is over all too soon.

You think you hear someone screaming, but you pay the voice no mind. You get up, not wasting any time to brush off, and begin to run. You do not quite know why you are running, your body is merely in autopilot, but you run, regardless, and you do not stop until you hit something. 

You do not stop until you hit something with a thud! 

It is Ace, you realize, mind finally beginning to clear up. You are on the ground outside of Ramshackle, the dirt is cold and wet beneath your bottom, and the air is sharp against your skin. Ace and others stand before you. They seem surprised. You are the same. Why are they here? To torment you? To catch you, once and for all? 

They are getting closer, you realize with alarm. Azul is crying, but keeping his distance. Jamil is holding Kalim back from lunging at you. Rook is stalking closer to you. They’re all talking, but it is as if you have gone deaf. You cannot hear them. Your ears are ringing, your heart is pounding out of your chest. 

Someone touches you, and the world goes black.

———

You wince at the incoming light as white fluorescents flood your vision. Your head feels as though it has been filled with water, an oddly calm sensation washing over you. You blink up at the white ceiling from your place underneath the white sheets, trying to put the pieces of what brought you here together. 

“You’re awake,” Yuu says. Your body burns cold. That’s right, you remember it now. You had fainted earlier. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” you answer. There’s no reason to lie. 

“We didn’t get to finish our conversation from earlier. Let’s talk, now that you’ve been calmed down.” Something about the way they phrased it sets you on edge, but you have no time to question them, as their voice cuts your thoughts short. 

“You know, I was a little hurt when you tried to get rid of me. Sending me to school was just an excuse, wasn’t it?” “How did you…?”

“I’ve known all along. Remember, darling, no one knows you better than I do.” “If you knew it was an excuse then why did you go along with it?” “Because it was a request from you, dearest. How could I ever turn it down when it was you who asked it of me?” Your mind feels cluttered. Have they always been this heavy on the petnames? 

"And the reason you came back?"

Yuu smiles. "I just missed you." You aren't sure whether or not you can believe them. Where do the lies start and end? How can you possibly trust them, when their motives are so unclear? As if there is cotton in your ears and eyes, you are disconnected from what is happening around you. You realize that Yuu is talking, but they sound so far away. 

You are underwater, you try to listen, but bubbles fill your ears. You swim up to the surface, desperate, splashing and fighting against the tide. 

You are on land. You have not left the infirmary, you realize. Yuu is still talking. They sound so far away, but you can hear them just fine.

“My body?” You have no idea what they're talking about. Yuu flashes a grin, seemingly aware of your predicament without you ever having to explain it. “Do you remember how you died, little one?"

What…?

"How I…died?"

"Yes, you've been dead for quite some time, actually. Dying is an unfortunate but necessary part of transmigration—that is, in relocating your soul."

"Then…my body right now is—"

"Artificial, yes. I had wanted to use one of the particularly irksome students as the equivalent for your body, but the system intervened. I could never get an NPC alone, either—the cast was always too jealou. They’d step in before I could so much as say hello.

All those alchemy classes you had me take really paid off in the end, you know? I had to take the long route, unfortunately. That’s alright, though, because I found a workaround. The solution was right beside me all along.”

"The ghosts," You murmur, trying to will yourself to be horrified. Perhaps you are simply tired, but you are far less unnerved about the situation as you should be. 

Almost as if reading your mind, Yuu speaks up, “Sedatives,” they say, “for security.” You wonder what they could possibly mean by ‘security’, but they continue before you get the chance to ask. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this earlier. You’re so much more compliant with these.” They stroke your cheek while gazing fondly at you. You feel as if maggots are writhing underneath your skin where they have touched you. 

Your hands go numb.

You glance down at them, if only to make sure they’re still attached to your body, when you spot something on your wrist. A glowing symbol—two Triquetras placed together, with a dot in between. 

“Ah, are you looking at our mark now, dear one?” Your blood freezes in your veins. “Our what?” Yuu raises their own arm, revealing the very same symbol on their wrist. 

“It’s called a Serch Bythol, and it represents everlasting love.” There’s a giddiness to their voice that sets you on edge. 

“When did you…?” “You promised yourself to me, don’t you remember? We’re practically married now,” Yuu says, kicking their feet with excitement. “The seal is made with alchemy, so you can’t remove it. That shouldn’t be a problem, though, right? After all, you have no reason to break your promise.” A chill runs up your spine. They marked you? You should be scared, but you feel little more than a vague sense of unease. Damn those drugs. 

“What…what does the mark do?” “Are you sure you want to know that, darling? You aren’t looking so well…” Excuses, excuses. Anger bubbles beneath your sedated state; you can’t quite feel it, but you know it’s there. Every word coming from that wretched mouth is just another excuse. 

“I’m fine,” you say through gritted teeth. “Tell me what it does—and stop calling me that.” Yuu sighs.

“When we made a pact, our souls bound together.”

“Meaning?” “Meaning that we’re now more in-tune with what the other is feeling. We can’t lie to or hurt one another other, either—physically, I mean.If you don’t believe me, then go ahead and try lying. You could attack me, too.” 

You try lying, first, but your mouth stays firmly shut. You try again, but nothing happens. You try saying something that is almost true, but exaggerated. Still, no dice. Finally you decide to try saying something that’s true, but misleading, but Yuu starts talking before you can come up with anything.

“I know that you’re angry, but even so, aren’t you glad?”

“Glad? What could I possibly be glad about right now?” You think the sedatives are starting to wear off, as a freshly lit kind of rage sparks itself into your chest.

“Wouldn’t you rather I be honest with you?” 

“I’d rather you do that without tricking me into it.” Yuu feigns a sigh.

“It could be worse, you know? This is nothing compared to what the others had planned.” Your first instinct is to assume they’re lying, exaggerating, or otherwise, but your tests from earlier prove your instincts wrong. “Do you want to know what they would have done, had the hunt never occurred?” You nod. 

Yuu fills you in on everything. Every plan, every passing musing or idle comment. Everything. The things these people would have done, had the guilt of nearly killing you not gotten in the way…You almost feel grateful for the hunt—no, you do feel grateful. The fates they would have forced upon you, had you not almost died by their hands would have been far worse than death. Demons…They're demons! They cannot possibly be human! But…what does that make you? The ones who demons revere, the one who they worship as if they are God?

There is no longer any hiding from it, you know the answer. An odd sense of peace washes over you at the realization. You stand up, finally ready to confront your wayward worshippers.

You know what you are.

The devil sits upon heaven’s throne, and they are the ones who placed you there.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #self aware twst #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere riddle rosehearts #yandere ace trappola #yandere cater diamond #yandere duece spade #yandere trey clover #yandere leona kingscholar #yandere jack howl #yandere ruggie bucchi #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere jade leech #yandere floyd leech #yandere kalim al asim #yandere jamil viper #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere epel felmier #yandere rook hunt #yandere idia shroud #yandere malleus draconia #yandere sebek zigvolt #yandere lilia vanrouge #yandere silver

[literaila]

*mischievous laugh* mueheheh

hypothetically, what if reader dies? 😈 what will poor megumi and tsumiki do now? what would gojo do too? 🥸

um… hello??? what is wrong with—

okay, so let’s start off with the simplest reaction. megumi is out for vengeance.

it’s clear that he’s got a bit of a… sadistic nature to him (undefined by whatever morals normal people have, yeah whatever). but why is he strong if not to protect the world from evil things? why does he have power if he’s not supposed to use it?

so, you being a jujutsu sorcerer, it’s likely that you died fighting a curse. if that’s the case, megumi is hunting that curse down and eliminating it in an instant. and then he keeps going. he’s going to kill every curse he can find, because you shouldn’t have died.

if anyone doesn’t deserve to die, it’s you.

and while megumi can hear your words in his head, telling him to protect others, to take care of people, to stay with his family… if you’re gone, what does it matter?

megumi will live in his anger. he doesn’t need depression or acceptance. what he needs is you, and if he can’t have you anymore…

and then there’s tsumiki. she wouldn’t feel angry, like megumi, but lost.

it’s obvious that she believes there’s a sort of destiny within the world. she thinks that all bad things happen so that the good things, the truly good things, can come next. she believes that you have to feel pain to feel pleasure. she trusts this idea.

before you die, tsumiki isn’t afraid of anything.

but after you die, she loses her purpose. her ideals, her faith in the world.

she goes from the trusting little girl who would believe satoru if he told her that he was really a robot with a human heart inside of him, from the girl who took everything at face value, believed that all people should protect each other, help each other—

she goes from your little girl to something entirely different.

what’s the point of this? she wonders. if her mom had to die to bring her to you and satoru, she understands. if she and megumi had to take care of themselves for a year—living in some apartment that didn’t have running water—just to find a real family, then it was worth it.

but what’s worth it if you’re dead? what’s the point to losing another mom, another person that tsumiki was supposed to help take care of?

she can’t do anything, though. she’s always been the most powerless of her family members. and after you die, she’s not your little girl anymore.

she’s just lost.

and, of course, satoru.

i think he shares the same grief that both megumi and tsumiki feel—anger, denial—but he’s older than them. he loves you differently than they ever could.

there was a time when satoru had pushed you away just to get back to that place where he was nothing but strong. where his feelings had no bearing in his power, where emotions didn’t matter as long as he was the honored one.

but, really, if it takes you dying to get back to that place—then satoru never wants to be strong again.

when suguru died, satoru was committed to carrying out his plans. to protecting sorcerers from a world forged against them. he wanted to train a generation of sorcerers who didn’t have to worry about dying with regrets, who could take care of themselves along with all of the non-sorcerers in the world.

to eradicate cursed energy, in whatever capacity.

but when you die, satoru loses all that purpose. why should he care about the world when he no longer has to protect you from it?

why should he care at all?

so, just like after riko died, satoru is back to being nothing but a vessel for power. he doesn’t care who he kills, what he kills, as long as it has some meaning, some pointless purpose that doesn’t matter to him.

but, it only takes one memory of you to snap him out of it. he can almost feel you clawing at his chest, your voice begging him to take care of them.

so, eventually, satoru finds his way home. he’s got two other people to protect.

and he’ll be damned if anything happens to them.

#you guys call ME evil #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #a typical family

[leavesdriftinginthewind]

I think what pisses me off most about the Wednesday fandom is that so many are intentionally ignoring the fact that Tyler is MEANT to be a tragic character because he is a Hyde. We basically have it beaten over our heads that Hydes are the outcasts of outcasts, deemed too difficult to help, and therefore abandoned and left to their own devices, basically giving them no way to NOT be tortured into being someone’s slave or ultimately having something tragic or awful happen to them that forces out their Hyde and leaving them to become a monster and/or get killed.

So many people blame Tyler for every bad thing that happened in this first season when he LITERALLY had no option but to do exactly as Laurel wished. He was TOLD to go murder the people he murdered, he was TOLD to get Wednesday to trust him, he was TOLD to go after Eugene, he had no CHOICE but to obey, it’s literally in the show’s lore. And we are both told AND shown what lengths Laurel went to to literally torture this teenage boy into becoming a monster that was FORCED to obey her. Not only that, but all that “mama” talk and physical touch is gag-worthy. SHE is the true monster who wanted everyone dead, and she ruined that boy’s life to try and get what she wanted. And the show INTENTIONALLY shows AND tells you all that.

We are SHOWN how Tyler was chained, beaten, poisoned to bring the Hyde out, to become Laurel’s perfect slave. And still so many see HIM as the “true villain,” stating that if he was truly “good” he never would’ve done all he did. Meanwhile the lore has TOLD you, Hydes have no choice. But WAY too many disregard this plot point entirely simply because they see it as something to cling to for their preferred ship to happen. That’s infuriating to me, truly. Not only from a standpoint of really loving Tyler as a character, but also from a standpoint of it being apparent to ME of where the story is going, and knowing that so much of the fandom is gonna be pissed off about it because it’s Tyler-centric.

We are given so much information about “Hydes have been banned from Nevermore for 30 years,” “Faulkner was studying Hydes but he died before he could finish his research,” “nobody knows for sure if, once unlocked, Hydes are only monsters or if the person they were is still in there.” Between all this within the narrative itself and Hunter talking about how he’s excited to explore the duality of the Real Tyler versus the Hyde next season, I think it’s obvious that Wednesday and Tyler are basically going to get to the bottom of this “are Hydes all 100% bad and dangerous” problem themselves, and the result of their research will probably get Hydes accepted back into Nevermore.

Wednesday already knows how unjust the whole system is, she mentions it FREQUENTLY in the first season. Once she gets past feeling betrayed by what happened in season one, it’s likely going to weigh on her that someone she cared about deeply enough to bring her walls down for, to actually seek out to KISS, was so hurt by this system that he ended up doing all he did. And Tyler is inevitably returning, the writers have talked about how we’re going to learn more about Tyler and explore his true feelings for Wednesday. They’ll be brought back together, no doubt. And thus, the deep dive on Hydes will probably begin.

I don’t care what you ship, I don’t even care if you really LIKE Tyler as a character, but I DO care that so many have made him out to be a pure villain simply because that suits their own personal narrative better, and makes them feel like it’s more likely their preferred ship will win the “war.” Like, try and WATCH a show, actually WATCH it, and not simply cling to bits and pieces that suit the storyline you’ve made up in your head. You’re SUPPOSED to hate LAUREL, you’re supposed to, at the very least, wonder if the Real Tyler is still in there, if he can be helped, and you are SUPPOSED to feel some pity for the boy who was forced into becoming an enslaved monster.

#I’m just so exhausted by the takes I’ve been seeing #especially on Twitter #about how Tyler is pure evil #and how anybody who loves him is scum of the earth #like no? #i actually paid attention to the show #and the character development #and the narrative we were literally told #Tyler is so much more complex #and making him out to be a purely evil one-note villain drives me up a fkn wall #sorry he’s a threat to your ship I guess?? #but you’re gonna be super pissed to find out his character is critical to the overarching narrative of the show #he’s literally the male lead #I feel like that’s very obvious #weyler #wyler #tyler galpin #tyler x wednesday #wednesday x tyler #wednesday addams #wednesday netflix #Wednesday #I’ll defend Tyler Galpin til the cows come home #you’ll never catch me NOT defending him

[yawnderu]

Thinking abt Immortal reader angst while at work.

Just imagining them losing whatever makes them immortal after taking a life ending bullet for another person. They land on the ground, gasping for air. They can feel it's different this time. I mean, they've died several thousand times, but this just feels different. They know they're going to die for the final time and can't even call out. Eventually someone will come over and check on them and they whisper out a goodbye.

And whoever's checking on them laughs. Because he doesn't know it's not one of their weird jokes.

Later, when the fights done and they're dragging you into the helicopter/vehicle and you're still not back, they just think it's taking longer. It'll be okay.

Until the reader's lips start turning blue. And the readers gone cold. Then they are arguing about what to do. And that one person has to live forever with the guilt that they had the chance to say goodbye and all they did was laugh at a dying person.

AHHHH yes!! :((

God, they're so used to seeing immortal!reader coming back from the dead and even making jokes about it, complaining about how annoying it is to keep getting killed because it makes her dizzy and gets her uniform dirty, so why would they think twice the moment she gets shot again? They've seen her full of holes before, full-on gunshots to the head, yet she always comes back.

She always comes back, but this time everything feels so different for her. It feels real, blood pouring out of her stomach and her life slipping away from her slowly while all she can do is lay there with the knowledge that she won't be coming back this time.

Eventually she'd get found, barely even managing to try and whisper out a final goodbye just to be met with a laugh and a “save your breath, soldier” as they carry her away to the heli. It usually takes her seconds to come back, so why does she look like the countless dead bodies they've seen throughout their careers? It's been over half an hour and her body is cold, blue lips and tense muscles making it clear that she's never coming back no matter what.

The guilt whoever found her would be devastating, angry at both themselves and, due to grief, you. It's like the boy who cried wolf, you've whispered out goodbyes before, knowing you'll always come back, so why was it real this time? Why did you always have to make jokes about dying, getting them used to them and ultimately leaving them unable to tell it wasn't a joke the one time you died forever?

It's irrational to be angry at you, but they don't know the way to cope with their teammate of years, someone who was supposed to outlive them, actually dying. They'll never hear your laugh again, never see your face scrunching up whenever you take a sip of their drinks, never hear you joke about how bothersome it is to die, and they'll be forced to look into the sunsets you always loved, knowing you'll never be able to experience them again.

#stray answers #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #call of duty #simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost cod #141 x fem!reader #141 x reader #141 x you #task force 141 #141 task force #141 tf x reader #john price x reader #john price #captain price x reader #captain price #captain price x you #captain price x female reader #captain john price #captain johnathan price #price cod #john price cod #john soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mactavish #soap mw2

[steppin-on-the-last-train]

Happy Xmas (War Is Over)

Natasha Romanoff x Taskmaster!Reader

Summary: Settling down within S.H.I.E.L.D hasn't been easy, but Christmastime is here, and Clint Barton extends an invitation that seems too good to be true. You follow him to his farmhouse where you're met with a few surprises. With Natalia by your side, you try to accept your new life in America, and maybe find some holiday spirit along the way.

Foreword: Happy Holidays everyone! This is a beast of a fic (14.5k words) so strap in. It's also very much an original character just written in second person, but I hope you enjoy.

You sat slouched on a sofa in the common room of SHIELD headquarter’s residential wing. You weren’t sure why the designers had felt the need to include this room. Spies weren’t well known for their extroverted nature. But the holidays had left the area quiet, rather the entire building seemed to have wound down with the slowing nature of the cold and snow outside. You found the space to be useful when you became sick of staring at the same four blank walls of your standard issue apartment. Having recently defected from Russian ranks you and Natalia weren’t allowed to leave campus without an escort, which left you exactly three places to spend downtime. Your room, Natalia’s room–which looked exactly like yours save for a book Barton had given her–or the common area. 

The two of you were working on the latest mission report. Well, you were supposed to be working on the write-up, but the end of year evaluations had been released and yours begged to be raked over. So Natalia worked on hers, fingers diligently tapping away at the keys. She was sitting sideways along the couch, legs lounged over your lap and back to the armrest. You didn’t know how she found the position comfortable. You narrowed your eyes at your computer screen and the unkind words it harbored. “Do you think I am uncooperative and have a tendency to disobey the orders of superiors?” You asked the redhead.

She looked up from her laptop, eyes searching your profile. “Where is this coming from?”

“The end of year assessments,” you frowned. “They are out.” 

“I thought we were working on the reports for the Minsk mission.” She raised a reprimanding eyebrow. 

“I was,” you said, dragging out the second word ever so slightly. “But they are just so tedious now. Why do they need to know the amount of bullets I used? I miss when all we had to do was take a photo of the dead guy for proof of accomplishment.” Natalia nudged your ribs with her foot. “Ow,” you complained.

“We do this because it’s the normal thing to do. Because what we do in the field is necessary, but the violence has to be justified so we can continue doing our jobs.” She tucked a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid behind her ear. “We’re with the good guys now,” she reminded gently. “The world may still be brutal, but we don’t have to be anymore.”

“So we count the bullets,” you concluded.

“So we count the bullets,” she stated. A moment of silence passed, only the sound of Natalia resuming her typing filling the air. That was something you were still getting used to. Silence always preceded something terrible, the inhale before you faced hell on earth. “You are uncooperative.”

“What?” You asked, turning to face her indifferent expression.

“Your question from earlier. I’m answering it.”

“You too?” You shook your head. “You are supposed to take my side, not Fury’s.”

“You are the person who let themselves get captured by the enemy after you heard they’d gotten to me. And,” she paused, “if you finished that report you’d get to the part where you chose not to listen to Agent Riley.”

“I had it handled,” you said, reaching for your coffee cup on the side table.”That man thinks he knows what is better just because he has fifteen years on me. I think he is too cautious. That is why the Americans are leagues behind us in intelligence. They do not have the guts to do what needs to be done.”

“We are Americans now,” she reminded. You wrinkled your nose. “I mean for all intents and purposes, you get that.” She put her laptop on the coffee table and sidled next to you. You could feel her warmth bleed into you where your bodies met. Her knees pressed into your legs, her shoulders turned into your chest. “You can do it, I know you can,” she whispered, taking your hand.

“Do what?” You asked dubiously. 

“Beat them. Unlearn what they taught us. You just have to make an effort.” She put a hand on your cheek, fingertips caressing the side of your face. You almost swore she wanted you to kiss her. You swallowed down nothing but a bubble of air and desire. Not today.

You looked at her, gaze narrowing. “I am here, am I not?” Two large windows allowed the morning light to stream in behind Natasha and wash her in a fresh aura. The blue sky shined bright as fat snowflakes whirled down to meet the pavement of the U.S. capital. Far below, pedestrians hustled from building to building, jackets pulled tight against the cold. Your heart began to pound when you thought about calling this place home. Everything was just so wrong. “I think fighting the urge to run is about all I can manage right now. I believed in the cause, at least I think I did. Turning my back on the Red Room, on him any faster and I think I might break.”

“I know, and I see you. But you have to show them that,” she said, tapping the now black computer screen.

“Like you do? Do not tell me you actually trust anyone here.”

“I don’t,” she said carefully, as if there might exist an exception. “But you have to cooperate, to let someone else take the reins for now.”

“I do not know if I can.” You bit your lip and traced the room with your eyes. The clean, modern furniture and the off-white walls. You knew you shouldn’t but you missed the familiarity of the old wooden mansion. “I am not like you Talia. I cannot see the good in people.”

“And I’m not asking you to. Do you trust me?” She asked, eyes that reminded you of the dawn of spring boring into yours.

“Always,” you breathed, not missing a beat. “You are the only thing in this world that makes sense to me.”

“Then follow my lead. I’m worried about you. I don’t want you digging a hole you can’t climb out of.”

“Okay, I will try.” You were not sure you meant it. Humanity given too much freedom would eat itself alive. A familiar mantra marched across the back of your mind like the incessant buzz of an insect. Correct and control. Correct and control. Correct and control. Correct–

A noise from down the hall caught your attention. Quick footsteps heading your way echoed into the room. You looked at Natalia. The two of you had thought everyone else had left the building for the holidays. 

A frazzled Clint Barton walked into the room, looking about to take off in a full sprint. He wore faded blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms. A duffel bag hung over his shoulder, storing a fair amount of his belongings if you had to guess. He glanced in your direction, but refused to slow his stride. You watched him go, when suddenly he dug his heel into the ground and spun around.

“What are you guys doing here?” He asked as if just now processing your presence. 

“Working,” Natalia answered. You liked Barton well enough and there was no question that you owed him an unpayable debt for sparing Natalia’s life. He looked unassuming, quick to smile and kept a short crop of hair as blonde as a field of wheat. You weren’t quite on casual speaking terms though, not because he bothered you, no. It’s just you weren’t keen to talk to anyone except the girl still halfway sprawled across you. 

He furrowed his brow and adjusted the strap across his shoulder. “It’s Christmas Eve,” he stated plainly, as if that in itself was explanation enough. 

“It is,” Natalia agreed. 

“Well you can’t sit in here all day.” He made a sweeping gesture about the room and all of its bareness and almost surgical detachment. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, silent surprise weaving its way across his face. Feeling off put, you fixed your posture, spine straightening and causing Natasha to slide away. You had yet to encounter him outside of a professional setting, but here you sat wedged into the couch and rather at ease. You wore sweats, albeit SHIELD issue, but still something you’d normally not be caught around in.

“And why is that?” Natalia asked, tone laced with faux confusion. She blinked at Barton, eyes doe-wide.

He shifted his stance and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re really going to make me say it?” He waited, looking at Natalia indignantly. “It’s sad. You can’t stay at work during Christmas.”

“What would you suggest we do?” She asked, still playing her one-sided game. Bemusing to you, but not so much to the Hawkeye.

“I don’t know. Go home? That’s what I’m doing.” Home, you thought. If you ran back to the place you still called home, SHIELD would call for your head. Even still, the house beckoned out to you in your dreams; not warm, never safe, but structured and oh so familiar. Come home my child, a gruff voice compelled. Come and take your rightful place as my sword and shield. 

Something behind Natasha’s eyes flickered for a moment before disappearing behind a wall of apathy. “There’s not exactly a home for me to go back to.”

“Oh. That’s right. Erm,” Barton stammered. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I forget.”

“Forget that I’m an outsider?”

“That’s one way to put it I suppose. I mean, you’re one of us now, right? We all come from different places so in a way we’re all outsiders. Most of us have pasts we’d rather forget. You don’t do the kind of thing we do because you grew up with two loving parents,” he said.

Natalia tilted her head, hair brushing against your neck. “And where did you come from?”

He smiled, one side of his mouth pulled slightly higher than the other. “Nice try Romanoff. Put a couple of beers in me first and you might have better luck.”

“Oh that’s right, I forgot. Fury found you wandering around the sewers,” she teased. You didn’t know who she did it. How she joked and spoke so freely. How she saw a friend and ally where you saw a threat and a future enemy.

“Ha ha,” he said dryly, lips still curled in a smile. “You’re actually not too far off.” He waited before saying more, eyes flicking to you as they often did when the three of you gathered together. Patiently offering a chance for you to join the conversation, but never calling you out. You were running out of excuses to mistrust the man. “Even still, you guys ought to get out of here. Drive to New York or something. They put up a giant tree in Times Square. I’ve never seen it in person, but,” he raised an arm for emphasis. “Huge.”

This time Natalia’s expression fell for long enough even Barton picked up on it. She turned away from him and stared down at her hands. “I’d love to see that,” she murmured. “We can’t leave though. Not yet. Not without an escort from an authorized superior.” Technically there was nothing stopping you from leaving the building. You’d picked up the nasty habit of prowling the streets in the dead hours of the morning after a nightmare left your hands shaky and your heart clawing its panicked way up your throat. Natalia however had not made one move even remotely close to toeing SHIELD’s strict line. A fact made clear when she’d caught you sneaking back in as the sun rose one morning. You’d promised not to do it again with an overwrought frown on your face. You went out again the very next night and left a mugger to bleed out in an alleyway.

“Oh, that’s right.” It was Barton’s turn to look away. “You know what?” He asked, lifting his chin and pulling out a cell phone. He let the duffle bag down from his shoulder and onto the ground, putting the phone to his ear. Natalia looked at you and you shrugged. She knew him better than you anyway.

“Hey honey,” he said, not bothering to turn away or lower his voice. You didn’t know he had a girlfriend. Between the way you had only ever seen him consume pizza and his obsession with trying to make the most difficult shots possible on missions you had assumed he was single. “I’ve got a pair of stragglers here at the office.” He paused, sucking on his teeth for a moment. “I know, I know I was just about to get on the road I promise. I’ll still be home by five. No, I’ll be careful, I won’t get a speeding ticket this time.” He adjusted the phone and flicked his gaze in your direction. “Yeah, Laura, it’s them. You know me. They don’t have anywhere to go and I thought.” He paused. Slowly, a dopey grin curled onto his face. “Yeah, I do. You know I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t.” A final pause. “Okay. I’ll see you later. Love you.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and looked up with new excitement sparkling in his eyes. “Have you guys ever been to Iowa?”

Natalia shook her head. “No. I’ve got a soft spot for the Midwest though.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go pack for a few days. Laura’s going to kill me if I’m another minute late,” he said, hoisting the bag over his shoulder. 

Natalia’s eyes went wide and she opened her mouth, speechless. Even you were taken aback. Was Barton really inviting you to his home? Certainly he didn’t trust you yet. You hadn’t even been at SHIELD for a year, the first six months of which you spent firmly locked in a cell. Yet there he stood, hands in his pockets and waiting for you to move your ass and follow him out. “I didn’t,” Natalia started. “When I said we couldn’t leave I wasn’t asking for you–”

“Nope. Don’t do that. I want to. You guys are never going to be comfortable here if you’re not extended some freedom. Trust me, I know.” You watched the other man with suspicion, waiting for the trap to spring. The SHIELD agent who had spared Natalia’s life when he had explicit orders to put an arrow through her heart. The American who believed in the good in people and making the world a less gruesome place in the small way he could. The person who extended a hand to others in a time of crisis. “I used to spend Christmas alone and cold without a home. Then I got Laura and I couldn’t be happier. But it can get lonely just the two of us out there. If you really would rather stay here I won’t force you to come,” he said matter-of-factly. “But I would really appreciate the company, and I know Laura would love to meet the two of you.”

Natalia shifted, putting one foot on the floor. She looked at you and you knew she wanted to go, but wouldn’t if you said no. But oh, you would do anything for her. Subtly you nodded. You didn’t care how much you were struggling, you’d pull yourself together for the weekend. “We’re in.”

You pushed yourself off the couch and went back to your room to pack what little you had. All of your clothes were plain which you didn’t mind, but something about knowing they were SHIELD issue left you feeling claustrophobic. You gripped a black dress shirt in your hand a little tighter than you needed to. To you it screamed, you are not free. We own you now. You threw your toothbrush and toothpaste in alongside the clothes before stopping at the bedside table. Carefully you pulled open the drawer and snagged a little necklace from inside. Tucking it into a side pocket you jogged out to find Natalia and Barton waiting in the lobby.

Barton’s truck was nowhere near extravagant, but it held a sort of coziness that only came from years of ownership. Natasha sat in the passenger seat while you took the back, wincing when you found the lack of legroom. The interior smelled of old air freshener, dirt, and worn leather. “Strap in,” he said. “We’ve got a long ride ahead of us.”

Barton tuned the radio to play Christmas music and introduced you to his atrocious singing as he belted along to ‘Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town’. As you left the thick jungle of Washington D.C. and moved west across Virginia the city whipped away as the sun traveled across the sky. When you reached the interstate proper and were well away from the prying eyes of the urban center you finally allowed yourself to relax a little. Natalia began to hum along to a new song, a small smile on her face. Barton turned the volume up a notch and you leaned your head against the cool window pane, eyes tracking the snow covered countryside. 

At a gas station in Ohio Natalia asked to switch seats with you. She curled up in the back using a sweatshirt as a pillow and closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. You checked the rearview every few minutes and eventually she had fallen asleep for real, lips parted slightly and breathing slowing down. 

Barton had given up on his singing endeavor and had reduced himself to whistling and tapping the steering wheel to the beat of the radio. As you passed a sign welcoming you to Indiana he spoke up. “Okay, truth time,” he said, stealing a concerned glance at you before staring back at the two lane road before him. The truck's wheels ate up yards of the sun bleached asphalt. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Yes,” you said.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re not gonna kill me in my sleep tonight, right?” He asked, trying his best to clear the nerves from his voice.

“No. I like you, Barton. And even if I did not I owe you a great debt,” you said. 

A crease formed on his brow. “A debt?”

You looked back at the woman sleeping soundly in the back of the truck. Her feet were tucked up on the seat, head laying on a sweatshirt stuffed in between the window and the headrest. You thought it might have been the most at peace you’ve ever seen her. “Yeah,” you breathed. “For giving her a better life.” One that I never could, you thought.

“I didn’t do it looking for any favors. Not from her, and certainly not from you or Fury,” he insisted. “Fury was pissed of course. He knew who I was when he hired me, but I still think he underestimated my loyalty to my gut. And you,” he said, nodding in your direction. “You were a wildcard no one saw coming.”

“Good or bad?” You asked, already sure of the answer.

“To be honest, I’m not sure yet. I think that’s still up to you,” he said.

You held a groan back. Moral dilemmas made your head ache. You’d wanted a straight answer. Tell me how to be good. “What do you mean?”

 He ran a hand through his hair, spiking it up in three different ways. “Well, you’re good out in the field. Like scary good, and I know you’ll watch my back. That’s the most important thing,” he said. “But then we get back and I see you pacing around the compound like you’re stuck in a cage. I guess I’m just not sure what’s going through your head.”

You clenched and unclenched your fist, overcome with the urge to tell the other man more than you’d told any of the SHIELD shrinks in a year. He felt safe and genuine, but you knew that was an impossibility; you knew people to be horrid pretenders. You opened your mouth anyway, Natalia’s urges for you to try ringing in your ears. “I can follow orders on a mission no problem. Shut off my brain and listen to authority. Protect your team, take the shot, retrieve the files. That is what I was built for,” you sighed, eyeing Barton warily. Waiting for him to snap at you. “But when the job is done, and I have time to sit and think on it…I feel like I have just ripped myself in half.” 

“That’s, well, that’s some intense shit,” he said, tipping his head. “What I can tell you though, with absolute certainty, is that General Dreykov is a bad man. For me, for SHIELD, for her…” Clint said. You knew very well who he was referring to. “There’s no gray area there, man. We’re going to shut him down.”

“I know," you said, short and quick. You knew that's what they all said, but Dreykov had protected you for a long time. He had raised you. He had loved you as his own. You didn't want to see him in a cell, or worse, in a grave. “I cannot get it straight in my head. Everyone has been telling me that working for SHIELD is a step toward being better, to making something of myself. If that is true, then how come the longer I am here the more I feel like I am betraying everything that makes me me?” You knew why. Something inside you was broken and twisted beyond repair. It made you see the world backward. Everyone around you could smell the festering rot of the mangled heart inside your chest. They just needed an excuse to put you down for good.

“Well, you are just about the most Russian person I’ve ever met,” he said. You tried your very best not to glare at him when he looked over. “Before about five minutes ago the only sentences I’d ever heard you speak were two word acknowledgements in the field. And the accent. You’re playing it up, right?”

“Maybe a little.” You were more than capable of fixing it and putting on an American one, but you felt entitled to keep this little part of yourself. To remind yourself and everyone else where you came from. The pressure to conform was a constant torrent but you refused to let them win, for better or for worse.

“As for actual advice…I would say don’t look at it from a good versus bad perspective. In this field, none of us are really good. Not even at SHIELD. I don’t care what some of those righteous assholes think. Forget what anyone told you before and what anyone tells you now,” he said, drumming his fingers along the steering wheel. “Take a step back and compare the before and the now. How did it make you feel?” He asked, stressing the you. “What cause do you believe in? Tough thing is there’s not a right and a wrong answer. Took me a hell of a long time to figure out what I thought about it all. I used to operate strictly outside of the law and now I’m a fed,” he said, shrugging. “Just know I’m rooting for you.”

“And if I come to a conclusion you do not agree with?”

“I’ll make sure to give you a headstart,” he said, winking and throwing you a playful smirk.

“Ah, I am grateful Barton,” you said, cracking a smile. It felt good, like feeling the sun on your face after being inside for a long time. You reveled in the feeling while it lasted.

“No. No more of that Barton stuff. It’s Clint.” He said, shaking his head. “Unless we’re on a mission. Then it’s Hawkeye.”

“The infamous Hawkeye. Tell me, Clint. Where do you get a name like that?” You could tell he was fond of the alias.

“Would you believe me if I told you it’s from the circus?”

A million questions crowded your mind. You looked over, mouth hanging open. You didn’t know much about circuses. They had shown you all a cartoon once about an elephant that had giant ears and could fly. It led the other circus animals in a rebellion against the human handlers. In the end the ringmaster cut its ears off and strung them up as a lesson against exceptionalism. “You were in the circus?” You asked.

“Even better,” he answered. “I was raised up in one.”

“Did you have elephants?”

“No,” he scoffed, chuckling. “We were classier than that. All acrobats and good old fashioned theatrics. I used to sharpshoot. Struck apples off of people’s heads. That sort of thing. Although when I wasn’t on stage I was running through the audience, taking wallets out of pockets.”

You squinted your eyes at him. “Baby Barton raising hell. I can see it. And it would explain the mess in here.” You scuffed your shoe on the floor, stirring up bits of dirt and dried mud. Items crowded the backseat next to Natalia. A winter coat, a pair of sneakers, a hunting knife, handle worn from use. The cupholders were stuffed with old receipts and loose change, and something rattled in the glove box everytime the truck took a left turn. 

“It’s messy in here?” He asked, glancing about the cabin. “I don’t think it’s too bad.”

“You are funny.”

“No, I'm being completely serious. Doesn’t everyone’s car kinda look like this?” His bewilderment would be slightly endearing if you weren’t such a neat freak.

“No, not really. I will help you clean over the holiday,” you said, leaving no room for protest. “I cannot stand the ride back like this.”

“If you insist. Just don’t throw anything out without running it by me. I promise everything in here is important.”

“Whatever you say,” you said, eyeing a stack of coffee cups wedged in the door.

“Can I ask something? I mean, I don’t want to overstep.” You were learning Clint did not do well with silence. 

“Go ahead.”

“What’s the deal with you and Natasha? Are you dating? It’s been killing me trying to figure the two of you out.”

“No, uh, we are not,” you stuttered. “We are friends.” Even that label seemed to hold too much weight. You weren’t supposed to have friends. And to befriend one of the Widows no less. You were above them, primed to not only serve the Red Room, but to be the embodiment of its crusade. Dreykov’s right hand. The Taskmaster. 

Clint had the nerve to scoff. “I’ve seen you just about butcher an entire compound of enemy combatants without batting an eye. And you can never ever tell Fury this but you intimidate the other agents more than he does.” He took one hand off the wheel and stretched it out, flexing his fingers. “And as far as I can tell the only person who can get you to listen to anyone but yourself…” He pointedly stared at the rearview mirror. “I didn’t even recognize you earlier back at SHIELD. You looked so, unagitated. Like you finally managed to dislodge that stick up your ass.”

“Ha, ha,” you laughed dryly. “You know, I am going to find something to shove up your ass.”

“You were letting her lay on you like a cat. You can’t tell me you guys haven’t slept together.”

You glared at his profile until he got the hint and faced you. “That is none of your business.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry I crossed a line,” he said. Your chest twisted with an unfamiliar sensation. One that made its way to your face in not quite a smile, but certainly an expression of gratitude. You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek. Apologies were new for you. 

“It is alright,” you said, vehemence leaving your voice. “It is just complicated. We had,” you hesitated and took a deep breath. “We had more than we should have in, um…before. They tried to keep us apart, make me think she was as heartless as the rest of the world.” You stared out the windshield, not willing to risk eye contact with Barton. A bug came flying at the truck and splattered green guts right in your eyeline. “And for a while I believed them. I hated her. But I was wrong. It is actually the opposite. Natalia is just, she is good. She stupidly stuck by me and dragged my head up from the sand when I was intent on suffocating myself.” 

“I’m no expert, just a guy with a wife and a couple of kids, but that sounds a damn lot like love to me,” he said. 

A choir of sardonic voices roused to action in the forefront of your mind. What do you know of love? You bite the hand that needs you, do you understand? You bite it clean off. A bitter laugh lunged from your throat before you could stop it. “You are wrong. Love is a fantasy to hold over the heads of the masses.”

“Wow.” Clint blinked dramatically, twice. “I didn’t think it was possible, but you just got even more Russian.”

“Fuck off, Hawkeye,” you said, grinning freely. 

 “Seriously though, I’ll never understand what you guys went through. Not in any way that counts, but the fact you made it out together tells me how fucking strong the both of you are.” He flicked his gaze to you. “There’s something there for you to think about too, but you gotta find it on your own.”

But you would rather take a knife to the chest than admit to harboring any sort of four letter words for Natalia. “Wait, you have a kid?” You asked, turning the conversation back on Barton.

“Yeah,” he said, smile reaching up to crinkle the corners of his eyes. “I have two now, if you can believe it. My oldest is Cooper. He’s a little over three. Lila is the baby. They’re why I was a little nervous about bringing you out. My number one priority, before SHIELD, before the mission, before myself are those kids.”

“And you were driving me all this way worried that I would turn on you? That I might hurt your kids?”

“Well, you know. Don’t trust anyone, especially other spies. Especially Russian spies if you’re American. I was fairly sure, but there was a voice in the back of my head asking ‘what if,’ and I had to ask,” he admitted.

You wanted to tell him you’d never hurt a little kid. That he shouldn’t have worried. Except you had, so so many times before. “How do you feel now?” You asked instead.

“A lot better. Glad to know you’re not a robot.” Silence grew as the radio paused in between songs. You laid back against the seat and watched the plains rush by outside. The speakers came back to life and a new sickeningly cheery jingle began to play. “I love this one,” Clint said, turning the volume back up. He hummed with contentment and drummed his fingers on the wheel, looking over at you. “I am going to teach you all about the joy of Christmas music, just you wait.”

“Oh, great,” you remarked wryly. The small grin on your face however betrayed your stark tone. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all.

—

The old Chevy fought its way up the snow covered path toward the farmhouse in the middle of the field. White and red lights hung from the roof and wrapped the pillars of the porch in heartwarming hues. A little plastic snowman stood ambassador to the front door, waving a mittened hand and welcoming the incoming entourage. Clint parked a couple dozen yards from the house, grumbling about how he’d have to dig the truck out before he left again. Natalia hopped out, eyes wide as she took in the home. Your breath puffed out in visible clouds, but you hardly felt the cold. You were raised in the deathly Russian winters. 

The front door cracked open, a woman standing silhouetted in the warm light behind her. “Clinton Francis Barton! You better get inside right now,” she said, a wide smile brightening her voice.

“Clinton?” Natalia asked, walking close behind Barton up to the porch.

“Yeah, yeah. Now you know my biggest secret.” He trudged up the stairs, snowflakes dusting his shoulders and hair. Laura met him in the doorway with a kiss. “Sorry we’re a little late,” he said.

“You’re excused this time, but only because you brought guests,” she said. Up close you could see she had big brown eyes and brown hair that fell to her shoulders. The inside of the house beckoned, the haze of meat and pine wafting outside. You dragged your feet along the stairs. You didn’t belong here. “Get inside now, you’re letting all the heat escape.” She patted Barton on the butt as he trod inside, fondness lacing her eyes as she looked after him. Natalia stood at the entryway, not yet stepping up into the house. “I mean you two as well,” Laura insisted, ushering you through the door.

“Daddy!” A little boy came barrelling around a corner, wrapping his arms around Clint’s leg and staring up at him with a toothy grin. The house immediately opened up into the living room, a worn brown couch facing a fireplace and an evergreen tree adorned with ornaments and twinkling lights. To your left a staircase spiraled upward and disappeared to a second floor. You stomped your shoes off on a welcome mat, watching the slush melt away. 

A drumbeat of footsteps pattered your way and suddenly the child was wrapped around your leg, his fingers digging into your calf. Your muscles tensed and you began to lift your leg to shake him off, heart in your throat.

“Coop!” Laura scolded. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He’s usually pretty shy around strangers.”

But Cooper didn’t listen and you didn’t kick him away. This kid was not a threat. He ogled up at you with wide eyes the same shade as his mother’s and hair somehow blonder than his father’s. “Hi. I’m Cooper,” he said with the grace of someone just learning to speak.

“Hi,” you said, heat rushing to your cheeks at being startled by a three year old. 

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I am a friend of your father’s,” you said, also telling him your name. 

“Looks like you’ve been replaced, Clint,” Laura teased. “Come on, buddy, let’s get up. Daddy’s got to show them upstairs.”

But he only sank down further, sitting firmly on your shoe and jutting his lip in a pout. “Walk with me.”

You looked at Natalia, a tender smile on her face. “It’s alright,” you told Laura. “I can take him upstairs.”

“Are you sure?” She asked. “I can make him get down.” 

“Yeah.” You couldn’t explain the tight feeling in your chest whenever the boy smiled up at you. “Are you ready?” He nodded eagerly and you took a step, following Clint up the stairs. Cooper giggled the entire time, clinging on with little hands.

“I hope you guys are okay with sharing a room. We’ve got Coop and Lila in their own rooms right now. Lila keeps you up at night, doesn’t she buddy?”

He nodded against your knee. “Lila cries a lot.”

“This is great,” Natalia said. “Thank you.” You and her still slept in separate rooms, but at this point you would have been willing to sleep out in the barn if he told you to. You hadn’t realized how crazy you’d been in that SHIELD compound. The wind whipping against your face outside had been like finally breathing deeply after having your head held underwater.

“The door on the end is the master bedroom,” Clint said, pointing left down the hall. “That’s Coop’s room, then there’s the nursery, the bathroom, and finally,” he stopped, opening a door to the right. “Here’s the guest room. I’ll let you guys get settled. Take your time. I’m going to help Laura get the table set.” He knelt down, scooping Cooper up under his arms and lifting him high in the air. The toddler shrieked as Clint settled him on his shoulders and stomped downstairs.

You set your bag down as Natalia moved around the room, running her hand over the nicely made bed. You cleared your throat, nerves and a foreign feeling clashing in your mind. “I can sleep on the floor.” 

She turned to you sharply. “You know I would never ask you to do that.”

“I know. But I am offering.” You walked over to the window, pushing the curtain open and peering outside. You couldn’t see much of anything, even with your enhanced eyesight. Even still, the countryside was a refreshing landscape after being firmly locked in the city. But the wilderness sheltered different threats. The red dot of a laser sight burned your retinas, and glowing yellow eyes stared blankly back at you. 

Natalia pulled your hand into hers, lacing your fingers together. “We’re okay here,” she mumbled into your shoulder as if reading your mind. 

“Do you really believe that?”

“I do,” she said, coming to stand in front of you. You wrapped your arms around her and rested your chin on top of her head, imagining you could shield her from all harm this way. “Listen.”

You strained your ears, searching for alarming sounds. The wind outside stirred quietly, enough to flurry the falling snow, but not so aggressive as to rap the window pane. Beyond that there was only quiet. No footsteps prowling around the back of the house. No click of a rifle’s safety being switched off. “I do not hear anything,” you said.

“You’re listening for the wrong things,” she said.

You frowned, glancing around the quiet room. Through the closed door the lazy tune of an American Christmas song made its way to your ears. You recognized the singer. Elvis Presley. The King of Rock and Roll. Laughter charged the music with a warm undercurrent. The infectious snicker that belonged to Barton mixed with the high-pitched giggle of his son to create a different kind of melody. You dropped your shoulders and let all of the air out of your lungs. Natalia pulled you closer until her spine pressed flush into your front. Her hands felt like ice, but you didn’t mind. You had always run hot. 

“Barton asked me if we were a couple on the ride up,” you said.

“Oh yeah? And what did you say?” She asked, watching the snow swirl in arcs outside. The wind rushed down, only for the next gust to excite the flakes into the navy sky again. 

“I told him it was complicated. And that we are friends.”

“And what if we made it less complicated?”

You pulled away to tug off your sweatshirt, feeling feverishly warm. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if we gave it a shot? We can call it what we want, we don’t have to call it anything at all. You could stay in my room some nights, or I could stay in yours. Maybe I’d let you kiss me,” she said, scrunching her nose and lifting one eyebrow. 

You laid the shirt on the bed, folding it into a tight little rectangle. The offer dangled in the vanilla scented air, taunting you. There must be a candle burning downstairs. You wanted so badly to say yes. To give yourself over to Natalia completely. Somewhere in between your heart and your throat the words got caught. A dark entity snagged what you wanted to say in its rows of jagged teeth and ripped it to shreds. “I think our friendship works,” you said. 

“Yeah, you’re right,” she sighed. “I was being selfish.”

“No, you were not. You could never be selfish. I am sorry,” you said, kneeling beside your bag and placing the sweatshirt inside. You would slit your own throat if Natalia Romonava asked you to. How cruel was it that you couldn’t tell her you cared? 

She crossed the softly lit bedroom, coming to rest by the door where you hung your head in defeat. “There’s nothing you need to be sorry for,” she said. Her voice washed over you and carried away some of the pain in your chest like the sea’s cool tide. Her fingers combed through the short hairs at the base of your neck. You leaned into her, resting your forehead on her leg. She smelled of the air after a storm and the beginnings of a fresh wound. “Come on. Let’s get downstairs before they put out a search warrant.”

You pushed yourself from the ground, an all too familiar action, and followed her into the greater expanse of the house. 

“There you are,” Clint greeted, pulling cups out of a cabinet. “Just in time.”

“Hi,” Laura smiled, crossing the kitchen and offering a hand. “I didn’t properly introduce myself before. I’m Laura.”

“Natasha,” Natalia said, shaking the woman’s hand.

“Cooper, come wash your hands!” Clint called. The boy ran in from the living room, making a beeline for the sink.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Barton,” you said, clasping her hand. Her palm held faded callouses. 

“Oh, please. It’s Laura. You come to my house, you call me Laura. Gosh, Mrs. Barton makes me feel old,” she said, smiling good-naturedly. “You two make me feel old. How old are you?”

“Twenty one,” Natalia answered. 

“Oh, wow,” she blinked widely. “Clint, you’ve got a run for your money. You might have to retire soon.”

“Tell me about it,” he said. “You should try sparring with Nat, hon. I’ve never been more sore in my life.” Clint scooped Cooper up and set him at the table. “Alright buddy hang tight, I’m gonna go grab your sister.”

“How are you guys doing at SHIELD? Fury not giving you too much grief I hope,” Laura said, grabbing a couple of plates and handing them over.

“You know Fury?” Natalia asked, recalculating the other woman.

“Oh, yeah. I knew Fury before he was such a hotshot. I knew him when he was still an ambitious agent gunning for the reins.” She scooped a bunch of mac and cheese into a bowl and carried it around to Cooper. “Feels like yesterday I was in the field though.”

“You were a SHIELD agent?” You asked, interest peaked. 

“Yep. Had a fancy codename too. People used to call me the Mockingbird.” The three of you settled at the table, plates filled with turkey and potatoes and sauteed green beans. “Don’t tell Clint I told you this but when he joined he chased after me for months before I’d even look in his direction. Don’t let him ever fool you, he’s always been a big dork.”

“Don’t tell Clint what now?” He asked, walking in with a baby in his arms. She couldn’t have been more than six months old. Natalia’s eyes went wide, her mouth parted open. She looked as if she were about to spring from her chair. You knew she had a soft spot for kids, but didn’t know it ran this deep. You looked from her to the baby and back again, head tilting. She’d never looked that excited to see you.

“Just sharing your most embarrassing moments,” Laura said. 

“Great.” He took a seat, cradling the baby in one hand and picking a fork up in the other. He pointed the utensil across the table at you and Natalia. “Just remember I’m still your superior,” he said. 

“The food is great, Laura,” you said in between bites. You forced yourself to slow down. You guessed you hadn’t realized how hungry you were until you sat down. SHIELD cafeteria food was certainly less than subpar. 

“Thank you. Clint, you better take notes from this one. The kid has better manners than you.”

“I’ll have you know that you chose to marry me,” he retorted.

“That I did,” she conceded, dipping her head. “And I’ve never had cause to regret it…so far.” 

“So far? Clint asked. “How could you ever say no to this face?” He jutted his bottom lip out and pouted.

Laura shook her head and grinned, almond eyes sparkling. “You are a child. I’m raising three children.” She turned away from her husband. “Anyway, I was asking you two about SHIELD. Clint told me you’ve taken the place by storm.” 

“It’s been good,” Natalia answered carefully. In the face of two senior agents, you had to choose your words carefully, even if one of them was retired from the organization. She donned a coy smile you recognized as one reserved for when she was chasing an objective and dipped her chin, peering up at the couple. “Everyone’s just been so great. We’ve been getting along perfectly, haven’t we?”

You took the signal and nodded in agreement. “I have found SHIELD to be an exceptional establishment.”

“I honestly think Fury would take that as an insult,” Clint said. “There’s no penalty for criticism. There’s a reason we’re spies and not soldiers.”

Natalia tilted her head, listening. You knew she gave the archer’s words considerable weight. “I think the director would agree that it’s considerably better than where we came from,” she said. “Which makes it near perfect in my eyes.”

Your leg bounced underneath the table, on the verge of taking off. To hear Natalia sing the song of American praise grated on your nerves. The worst thing was that she sounded genuine. She liked working under Fury. To you SHIELD was a pit stop on the way to a new life. For the woman who everyone underestimated and no one but you could decipher however, there was no escape plan, no next step. She’d convinced herself this was home.

“I’ll drink to that,” Clint said. “I’m where I am now because of SHIELD. And I wouldn’t trade this for the world.”

Laura practically beamed. “You sweet talker. I love you.” The feeling like you didn’t belong here roiled over you like a nauseating fever. You snapped to attention when you heard your name. “How are you adjusting?” Laura asked, eyes far too sympathetic.

“Fine,” you grimaced. You couldn’t help but think back on the lengths SHIELD had gone to glean information from you and remold you to a proper agent. In the end, they had been weaker than you. You were cast iron forged in the backwoods of Russia. You did not adjust. You did not yield. 

“What does Fury have you working on?” She asked. “I know I can’t have the details anymore. I don’t think I’d want them anyhow, but...He’s getting you guys back out there all right?” 

“Yeah. They call us Strike Team Alpha. We have been working with Agents Coulson and Hill to–,” you cut yourself off. You had been working to track down the Red Room and formulate a strategy to take out Dreykov. You complied enough to be deemed cooperative, but kept vital intelligence to yourself. Even still, time trickled away like sand in an hourglass. They’d have him before long, and you weren’t certain you could stick around to see it through. “We have been busy,” you pivoted. “We work with Clint a lot. Your husband is a good man.” 

“That he is,” she agreed. “But don’t discount yourself either.”

“Do not worry,” you said. “I know exactly what kind of person I am.”

“We all think we know who we are,” Laura said. “But most of the time it’s not as simple as we think. Lives are multi-faceted and it’s impossible to understand every part of ourselves as we should.”

“She’s right, you know,” Clint added. “I never thought I’d work for the government, much less ever be a father. But here I am.” He looked down on the sleeping baby tucked in his arm, running a thumb over her chubby cheek.

Under the table Natalia tugged on your pinky finger, intertwining her finger with yours. She squeezed softly and the action sent a current all the way to your heart. She had a smile on her face when you looked over, cat-green eyes glimmering with hope. “See?” She asked. “We can be whoever we want to be now.”

You nodded, even if it was just to reassure the woman beside you. Without order, without someone’s heels to follow you didn’t know who you were. And the prospect of discovering you weren’t worthy of all you’d been given...well that scared you more than the thought of a bullet carving a neat hole through your brain.

Clint cleared his throat and stood, walking to the counter and grabbing more food. You stared at your now empty plate, stealing a glance back at the countertop with the dishes of food. You stamped down on the flare of desire in your stomach, sitting silently and stacking your hands in your lap. “You can have more,” Laura said gently.

You shook your head quickly. “I am alright.” You were to never take more than what was allotted. 

“I’m serious, we’ll never eat all of this food. Please, take more,” she insisted.

You nodded, slowly getting up and slinking away from the wooden dining table. Natalia picked up the conversation. “So, you don’t work for SHIELD anymore then?”

“No,” Laura said. “I opted out of field work when I got pregnant with Cooper and when we decided to have Lila I took myself out of the game completely. Even being a deskbound spy has a way of taking over your life.” She picked up a napkin and wiped Cooper’s cheesy face off. “At that point I knew I had greater priorities than to SHIELD. Being a parent wouldn’t be everyone’s first choice but it was the right decision for me. We moved out here from the city a little over a year ago.”

“What do you do now?” Natalia asked.

“I’m a counselor for military personnel and veterans,” she said as you sat down again. Your foot caught on one of the legs and the table jumped a few inches.

“Sorry,” you cringed, gingerly pushing it back into place.

Cooper’s eyes went wide and he clapped his hands together with little coordination. “Again.”

“The table is pretty dense,” Laura explained. “We had trouble moving it in here and now Cooper’s made a game out of trying to push it around. Clint won’t touch it though, he’s worried he’ll hurt his back.”

“Ah,” you said, staring down at your lap. You didn’t like people knowing how strong you were. Nothing good had ever come from it. The serum was a fear tactic, a killer’s tool. The doctor’s at SHIELD had been practically drooling with questions when they found out, needles armed and ready behind their backs. “Must be lighter than you remember.”

“I’m done,” Cooper announced, slamming his spoon down. 

“Cooper Barton!” Laura chastised. “What do we say when we’re done?”

The toddler grumbled, pushing his empty bowl away. “May I be excused?”

“Yes you may,” his mother answered.

He jumped from his chair and ran around the table back to the living room. Clint ruffled his thick brown hair as he sped past. “Attaboy,” he saluted.

Laura carried the dishes over to the sink, running the water and filling the basin. You stood abruptly, snapping to attention. “I can take care of it.” You’d been sitting around for too long and letting people work for you. You needed to do something with your hands. She waved you off, not sparing a glance. “Please,” you said, ants crawling beneath your skin.

 She turned to you and something on your face must have given you away. “Okay. You’re not going to hear any argument from me.” 

You gathered up the rest of the plates from the table and scraped the food scraps into the trash. Chore rotations had been part of the routine growing up and the repetitive nature of scrubbing plate after plate calmed you some.

“Let me help,” Clint offered, handing the baby off to Laura and joining you in the kitchen. 

“Why don’t we go out to the den?” Laura offered to Natalia. “Let the boys clean up in here.” She whispered into the redhead’s ear as they left the room. You couldn’t make out the words.

You handed a clean plate to Clint for him to dry. “Thank you,” you said. The kitchen was cozy, all wooden floors and off-white countertops. The fridge stood across from the sink, decorated in crayon drawings and various magnets in the shape of dinosaurs.

“You’re welcome. Laura gets on me all the time for forgetting to clean up anyway. Figured I could earn some points while I’m home.”

“I meant for bringing us here,” you clarified. “It has been, nice.” Nice was a safe word. “You have a nice home. You were right. I think I was–hm, what is the term? Something crazy. Like when you are stuck inside for too long.”

“Stir crazy?”

“Ah yes. I was being stir crazy,” you said. “I am glad to be far away from the compound, from the job, all of it.”

“You were going stir crazy, not being stir crazy,” he said.

“Ah. I do not struggle with languages too much, but the figures of speech are always difficult to follow.”

“I’m glad you’re comfortable here. It’s nice to be able to share this with someone,” he admitted. “Fury is literally the only other person who knows about this part of my life. It’s kind of exhausting walking around pretending it doesn’t exist.”

LIttle footsteps came pounding around the corner and into the kitchen. Cooper crashed into Clint’s leg, tugging on his shirt to get his attention. “Mama said I have to help. Lila is sleeping,” he panted.

“Why don’t you dry this off for me, bud?” Clint handed him a rag and a plastic cup.

You watched the boy as he cleaned the cup, tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. “I will protect your secret, Clint. I know Nata-” You caught yourself before finishing the second half of her name. “Natasha will too.” The sound still felt awkward on your tongue.

“Thank you,” he said, laying a warm hand on your shoulder. The muscles in your back tensed, pinching your shoulder blades together. You inhaled and counted to five. You didn’t pull away. “I’ve made a lot of dumb decisions in my life, and I mean a lot. Taking a chance on the two of you though…that I don’t think I’ll ever regret.”

Part of you preened at the praise, no matter who’s lips it fell from. The other part reared at the fact you responded to someone other than your designated handlers. “You are welcome,” you said.

“Done!” Cooper announced, handing the dry cup back to his father. “Can I go play now?”

“Yeah, sure bud. We’ll be right out.”

You put the last plate away and drained the sink before joining Natalia and Laura in the living room. You froze when you rounded the corner and saw Natalia. She held Lila in her arms, the most tender smile on her face as she watched over the baby. Laura knelt by the fireplace, stoking the logs before shutting the grate. The mantle held little framed photographs of the Barton family and red and green stockings hung over the fire. A Christmas tree stood in the corner, yellow lights shining like halos. A star topped the tree, inches away from scraping the ceiling. Natalia sat on the couch cradling the baby as she played with one of her fingers.

Cooper slid onto the bench at an upright piano, mashing away at the keys. “Not right now, Coop,” Clint said. “You ought to be winding down for bed. We all have to be asleep for when Santa comes, remember?” You blinked at the instrument, starstruck. Longing filled your chest like air in a balloon. 

“Fine,” he whined, but listened and scooted from the bench.

Natalia swiveled her head, careful not to shift and disturb Lila. “Does one of you play?”

“I used to when I was little,” Laura said. “The piano belonged to my grandparents originally. I don’t think I could play much of anything anymore.”

“I can play.” Clint piped up.

“Twinkle Twinkle Little Star does not count, babe.”

“You know who can play?” Natalia spoke up. You imagined the expression on her face, one eyebrow raised and mouth poised in a smirk. 

“Who?” Cooper asked, rounding the couch and sitting on the coffee table. 

“I’ll give you a hint,” she said. “They’re in the room with us right now.”

“Is it me?” He pointed to himself, little eyebrows furrowed as deep as he could make them go.

“Nope,” Natalia answered, voice sing-song sweet.

“Is it you?” He twisted his head to the side and pointed at Natalia. She shook her head and Cooper looked around the room, eyes catching on his mother and father before landing on you. “Your friend,” he said. 

“Yep,” she said. You could hear the smile in her voice. 

“I knew it. I knew it,” he insisted. 

You tore your gaze away from the piano as attention fell onto you. “Oh.” You waved them off. “I would not say I could play. I posed as a pianist in a hotel lobby for a mission once a long time ago. Memorized some music that is all. I am not classically trained.” You crossed your arms to ward off the unease that accompanied so many eyes on you.

“Do you still know it?” Laura asked. 

“Yeah, I do.” Your peculiar memory would never allow you to forget. And you’d never tell a soul, but sitting there at a piano all night long had made you feel alive in a way nothing had before. But that couldn’t be. Musicians were jesters, and you were no fool. 

“We’d love to hear it,” Laura said, picking Cooper up and settling down with him on her lap. “If you’re comfortable. I hate the thought of the piano just turning into decor.”

“Okay,” you said. You were never one to shy away from a task. “I am afraid I do not know any Christmas songs.” 

“That’s all right. I’m sure whatever you know will be beautiful,” Laura encouraged.

Clint stood in the corner, eyes upturned to the ceiling. He perked up, springing into action. “I’ll be right back,” he said, jogging upstairs.

You took a seat on the polished wooden bench, stroking the keys and marveling at the instrument. You warmed up, playing a couple scales and conjuring the music in your mind’s eye. The patterns were as fresh as the day you had played them. The notes from the aged piano were by no means comparable to that of the expensive grand you’d used before, but somehow the music sounded sweeter here. As you struck the opening bars of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata you craned your neck to find Natalia’s gaze. She smiled at you and you couldn’t help but mirror the expression. Your heart picked up its beating and your head buzzed with a strange feeling. You felt as if you might explode with it. 

You took to the music like you took to fighting, or dancing. You didn’t struggle with movement like other people did. Ever since you could remember you could watch and replicate. Eventually you learned to mimic a fighter’s strategy so that you could predict their next moves. Flay their neck into a gushing fountain before they could touch you. 

Your foot pumped the pedal in time with your left hand and when you closed your eyes you could see the notes weaving into the dark. You liked how the music elicited harmony instead of chaos. Music didn’t scrape the skin from your knuckles or leave you lying on the floor with the world spinning around you. You changed the song, easing into Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat. 

Clint came marching down the stairs, CD player in one hand and a disk in the other. He stayed quiet for a moment, busying himself with finding an outlet to plug the player into. Finding a natural way to end the song prematurely, you slowed your hands and lightened the force with which you struck the keys. Clint stood near the other end of the couch, doing his best to look patient. 

“Barton?” You asked.

“I told you earlier that I was going to teach you the joy of Christmas music,” he said. “Well, here you go. Now you can play along and really appreciate the music.” He knelt down and pressed the play button. 

An easy tune filled the living room, bathing all in attendance in a sense of peace. Time seemed to slow, and for a moment, you forgot about the world outside of the farmhouse. All that mattered was the family reaching out in embrace, two parents and a little boy. Their smiles shone brighter than the blazing fire in the hearth. You watched the woman settled on the couch, absorbed by the baby in her arms. She looked up at you as you traced the curve of her jaw with your eyes. Natalia’s pupils were wide when she met your gaze, and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth. You looked away first to stare at the piano instead, focusing on the music instead of the way your cheeks warmed in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature.

You caught onto the song as it began to repeat, taking a shallow breath before following along. Just like with anything else music obeyed a pattern. Once you unlocked the way the parts fit together, the rest of the song revealed itself to you. All you had to do was continue the line of code. The next track played, prompting Cooper to sing along. Imperfection had never sounded so flawless. 

The CD turned out song after song and you let yourself get lost in the game. You didn’t recognize any of the pieces, but Christmas music had a distinctive charm to it. Some might call it magical. You sat back for the first thirty seconds of each song, picking out the tempo and key. The notes charged your hands with energy which you poured out into the latter half of the song. Each one was unique, a victorious smile forming on your face when you pulled together the entire arrangement in your head.

When the tracklist ended you took a breath, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. Laura took Lila from Natalia, holding her tight against her shoulder. Her hand, a mother’s hand, rested on the sleeping baby’s back. “I’m going to put her down,” she said, just loud enough to be heard.

“Hey bud.” Clint gently shook Cooper awake from where he’d fallen asleep on the couch against his leg. “It’s time to brush our teeth and go to bed.”

The boy only turned further into Clint’s body, refusing to be stirred. 

Clint stood and picked him up. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

Only after his footsteps had receded upstairs did either one of you move. Natalia pushed herself from the couch and stretched. Her arms extended toward the ceiling with a dancer’s grace. She took a seat next to you on the bench and laid her head on your shoulder. “That was amazing,” she said. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“That is all you,” you said. “I did not know you were so good with babies.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “When Laura asked me to hold her I was so nervous at first. I thought I might drop her or pinch her or that I’d make her cry.” She lifted her head, her gaze soft as a lamb’s. You wanted to preserve it so that no one may ever taint it, including from yourself. “But she was okay.”

“That is because you are a good person. They say babies have a sixth sense for that sort of thing. Like dogs.”

“But, I’ve hurt so many people,” she said, voice fragile like a twig in a storm. “I’m afraid…I'm afraid I’ll never be able to redeem myself.”

“No. Do not say that, Natalia. You are the best person I know. The fact you care so much means you are already there.” You huffed a quick exhale. “I think you are the only person who cannot see how big your heart is.”

“They say the holidays are for spending time with the people you love the most,” she whispered, tracing the lines on your palm with her finger.

You stayed quiet.

“I’m glad that I’m here with you,” she said.

Another window, another chance to dive off the deep end. I think I’m in love with you, you thought. The laws of society had been drilled into your head by the Madames and reinforced by what little exposure of the world you’d received. Natalia stood in defiance to all of them. She was a sapling in a field of ash, and refused to be uprooted. She turned to grace like you turned to anger. She was infecting you, and you couldn’t push her away.

Footsteps sounded down the stairs and you shut your previously parted mouth. The words scattered into the recesses of your throat. “Hey guys,” Clint said. “The kids are down and Laura and I still have a lot of Santa’s work to do. You’re more than welcome to stay down here and watch TV or whatever. We’ll be around. Just holler if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Natalia said. “Thank you.” He turned to go. “And Clint. Merry Christmas.” She smiled.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, giving a sharp nod. 

You yawned. Between the food and the warmth and the music, tiredness had snuck up on you. “Let’s go upstairs,” Natalia said.

“Okay.” You left the piano behind and made your way upstairs. You brushed your teeth and splashed water on your face in the hall bathroom. The shower curtain was adorned with colorful flaming monster trucks and a little blue step stool gave height before the sink. Cooper must have primary use of this one. 

Natalia sat on the edge of the mattress in the bedroom, untangling her braid with deft fingers. You stole a pillow and dropped it on the floor on the other side near the door. “What are you doing?” She asked.

“I am going to sleep.” You didn’t meet her eyes.

“Why are you being weird? We’ve slept in the same bed before,” she said.

“That was different,” you insisted.

“How so?” She asked, infuriatingly patient.

You crossed your arms over your chest and rolled your shoulders back, shadows of old handlers and teachers flickering behind your eyes. “Because…because there were lines before. Ones we did not cross.” Emotional ones. “It was survival. You were a warm body.”

A smudge of hurt clouded over Natalia’s bright eyes. She blinked and it disappeared. “You don’t mean that.”

You paced the length of the room, wishing you could run farther. You meant it and you also didn’t. “Of course not. I am sorry,” you breathed. 

“Then come here. All we’re doing is sleeping. I’m not letting you stay on the floor like a dog.” She combed through her hair, waves of red cascading down past her shoulders. 

Except it wasn’t just sleeping. If you indulged in this vice once you’d never want to quit it. You’d paw desperately at her door every night. You shook your head and backed away like a spooked horse. “I have slept in worse places.”

“Is it me?” She asked, shoulders slumping with the words. “Do you not trust me?”

“No. No, it is not you.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

You shook your head as if to fling the question away. The problem was that you weren’t cut out for relationships of any kind. Didn’t she know how dangerous you were? Shouldn’t she know that you bit? “There is no problem.”

“I know you well enough to know when you’re not telling me something.” You started to get the feeling this wasn’t really about where you slept anymore.

“Can we talk about this in the morning?” You tried, rubbing furiously at the back of your head.

“No. I hate feeling like you’re not comfortable around me,” she said. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“No. I trust you with my life. You know that.” Your voice cracked at the end. It was never her fault, and you hated yourself for not being able to be what she needed. To reassure and support her. To be normal.

“Then please, tell me what’s going on.”

“I–”

“What are you so afraid of?” She asked the question at barely more than a whisper, but the words lit a spark in you like a gunshot. 

“Leave it Natalia,” you commanded in Russian, spinning on your heel. You fixed her with a cold stare, no longer seeing her as you should be. Perched on the bed sat the Black Widow, and she had broken rank.

“No,” she scolded, rising to meet the challenge. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. We are not in the Red Room. Do you understand?” Anyone else and you would have seized them and smacked them clean across the cheek. Anyone else and they’d have a dozen fresh bruises to remind them of their place. But this was Natalia. And you’d never hurt Natalia. You clenched your jaw and drew your lips back, fighting the urge to pound the wall in. 

“I hate you.” You felt as if you’d just barely outran an onslaught of attackers, and they were still watching. 

“No you don’t,” she said, face still as marble and expressive as a wall of stone.

“Why are you here? Why will you not leave? You are the reason I am like this,” you said, voice cracking as a growing child's did. If it wasn’t for her you’d be perfect, you knew it. Instead she tempted you down a path of distraction, convinced you to embrace weakness.

“I’m here because I will always stand beside you. Always,” she said as if it was all too simple.

“But you left. You were going to die and leave me alone.” Defecting to SHIELD had not been her original plan. Letting them kill her was. Lucky it had been Clint Barton behind the trigger that night. “And now I am stuck here because of you and I hate it.”

“You feel stuck?” For a second the wall slipped and a flash of hurt escaped Natalia’s gaze.

“Yes,” you said. “I do. You ruined my life.” Red hot anger ignited itself within you. And it was all aimed at the woman before you.

“I didn’t make you do anything. I never have,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re here because you know deep down that the Red Room is an awful place. A place that takes little children and beats them into weapons.”

“It made us strong.”

“It broke us.”

You grimaced and kicked aimlessly at the ground. “I still cannot stand it here.” The wrath began to dissipate. Shame swelled to take its place.

“We are safer now than we ever have been.”

“I cannot trust you. You are a Widow. You–You are lying to me. You always have been.” Paranoia twisted smiles into smirks, kind words into carefully crafted scalpels. She’d learn all of your weaknesses and leave you gutted on top of her rotting pile of victims.

“I am not a Widow. Not anymore. Do you understand?”

You grunted an acknowledgement.

“Markov.” She called your surname. “Yes or no.”

“Yes,” you ground out. “I understand.” Regret pooled in your belly like bile. She had asked what you were so afraid of and you’d gone and shown her. The closer Natalia became the less control you felt you had. Emotions twisted together in a whirlwind inside your head, mutating into a throbbing mass of anger. Natalia handled her emotions, always choosing the correct words and wearing the face she wanted people to see. Dreykov had taught you that pretty words were for the Widows and the women. Unchecked, the rage festered until your hands shook with it. “I do not want to hurt you,” you said, switching back to English with an accent hanging heavy over the words.

“I know,” she sighed. “But you do, you know. When you lash out at me it hurts.” 

A dozen excuses ran through your head. None of them even came close to making it up. You were just a bad person. “This is why you have to let me sleep on the floor.” You felt as though you’d finally been allowed to regain control of your body after some raging force had overtaken you. It left you dizzy with the shame of your words.

Natalia didn’t say anything. Her green gaze bore straight through you. Vulnerability raked at your spine as if she held your bleeding heart in her fist.

“Please,” you added. You did not beg.

“You can sleep on the floor,” she relented. The cool release of relief soothed your aching mind. “But you have to promise me something.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me that when we get back you’ll work on talking through whatever’s going on in your mind. If not with me that’s fine. But you have to talk to someone.”

The offer was steep. The urge to shut it all in was more than an instinct. Being guarded was the key to your survival. “Fine.” If tearing yourself apart meant Natalia could find peace, you would rip the flesh away yourself. “I can do that.”

She blinked as if she hadn’t expected you to agree. “Here.” She held out a blanket that had been folded at the end of the bed. 

“Thank you.” You shut off the light and laid on the floor. For a moment before your eyes adjusted you couldn’t see a thing besides pitch black. Your heart thundered in your chest as shapes began to fall back into focus. The rectangle dresser, the thick bed frame, the moonlight filtering in through the blinds on the window. Covered in the rather large blanket and supported by the carpeted floor you fell asleep. 

You dreamt most nights. Vivid atrocities doused in blood and the screams of pigs to the slaughter. The tip of a sword, plunged through the hearts of the guilty and innocent alike. A metal fist, knocking you sideways and ramming you in the face until your eyes swelled shut. Never stopping until its master called it off. Faceless bodies behind surgical masks, watching as you writhed under a spotlight like a bug under a magnifying glass. A burn beneath your skin so violent your jaw locked with the pain and you felt as if you couldn’t even draw the tiniest of breaths. 

None of them held a candle to the nightmare that cursed you tonight. It had visited since you were small, and it came often. Not just the feeling, but the memory of being suspended in limbo.

Your limbs froze, even your neck refused to lift your head as you stared at a single spot on the popcorn ceiling. The walls, the fear-soaked smell of your own sweat, the buzz of a lamp to your right all closed in on you. You couldn’t cry, you couldn’t speak, it took everything you had just to breathe.

Time stretched on and all you could do was lay there and stare at the ceiling. You tried to focus on the drone of the lamp instead of the heavy panting a foot away from you. But you never could completely. Your chest constricted with every breath but never reached the point of constriction. Your stomach crackled with repulsion, but bile never rose into your throat. You forever hung teetering on the edge, violation wrapped around your frail body. 

I’m trapped. I’m trapped. I’m trapped. I’m–

Your eyes flew open and you sat up, knocking skulls with someone else. A strangled noise leapt from your mouth into the silent air. No buzzing lamp. No heavy breathing besides your own. Your limbs had become tangled in a blanket and you thrashed to free yourself. 

Your head snapped up at the sound of your name. The word lassoed your mind and hauled you to the present. Concerned green eyes peered at you in the dark. You knew those eyes. For a second you imagined they belonged to a child no older than thirteen. She wasn’t supposed to be in your room. She wasn’t supposed to see you like this. “What are you doing in here?” You thrust your hand out to keep her away. “Get out.”

“Hey,” Natalia said, voice as gentle as the evening breeze. Her kindness would get her killed. She spoke your name again and the illusion dissolved some more. “You’re safe. You were dreaming. We’re at Clint Barton’s house in Iowa.” 

You got to your feet on shaky legs, looking through the woman in front of you. The room around you was not the one in the lingering dream and not the one you grew up sleeping in. 

A cool hand found your cheek and tilted your gaze down. “Come back,” Natalia said.

The shadows fled, no match for her. Not truly gone, but subdued for now. “I am sorry I woke you,” you said. 

“Don’t apologize.” She drew a breath. “I was awake anyways.”

“I guess sleep is not especially kind to either of us.”

“No. I guess not.” 

She pulled away, stepping into the splash of moonlight on the wall. You thought she looked like an angel, or maybe a ghost. Either way she looked ethereal, as if she might turn to smoke if you reached out to touch her.

“I thought you said you’d grown out of them,” she whispered, facing the light, and away from where you hunkered out of its reach.

Your jaw twitched. “I lied.”

She nodded to herself. Disappointed but not surprised. You thought she might berate you for it, present a list of the consequences until they were seared into your brain. Instead she just extended a hand and said, “Come here.”

You fell into her and let her pull you onto the edge of the bed. You sat there, feet planted on the floor. “I hope I did not wake anyone else,” you said.

“You didn’t,” she said, settling down beside you. “You were so quiet. I almost didn’t notice something was wrong.”

“What happened?”

“I just…had the feeling something was wrong. That I needed to check on you.” She turned your forearm up and traced her thumb over the pulse point on your wrist. “Your forehead was all sweaty and you were breathing super fast. You seemed so scared.”

“I am okay,” you said.

“It’s okay to not be sometimes. I think I’m starting to learn that.”

“I really am.” You wanted to say more. You chewed on your lip, staring at the door as if it could tell you what to do. Natalia, so small yet stronger than you in a million ways. She deserved to know how much she meant to you. “I am always more than okay when you are with me. You make me feel safe.”

“Do you mean it?” Her eyes met yours, pupils blown amidst the fern green iris. You wondered if it was because of you or the dark. 

“Yes,” you said. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I think…I would go through all of it again just to keep you.”

“I don’t know if I’m worth that much.” You wished she could see herself through your eyes so that she understood. 

“Natalia Romanova, you are worth the entire world.” Hesitantly you leaned over and kissed her temple, lips just grazing the soft skin. You pulled away, scanning her face for any sign of reproach. “Was that okay?”

“It was more than okay,” she said. She leaned her weight against you, shoulders pressing into each other. 

You sat like that for a while, listening to the sound of her gentle breathing and basking in the peaceful moment. Maybe if you could remember how you felt now you could summon the strength to serve SHIELD. You allowed your mind to wander to places you normally didn’t entertain. Someday you and Natalia would have your own place like this. A bubble no one else could touch where you could sit just like this every night. You would never have it though, only the filmy mirage of pretense.

Natalia moved to the other side of the bed, laying down on her side. “Come lay down with me,” she said.

You didn’t want to return to the floor, but you weren’t sure you could stay on the bed either. 

“Please.” Behind you the best dipped and a pair of arms slid around you. One of her hands came to rest right above your heart. She tucked her chin into the space between your neck and shoulder and involuntarily, you dropped your head against hers. “It is Christmas after all.”

Natalia tugged you down and you let her, lowering yourself until your back was flush against the mattress and your head lay in her lap. You refused to move your legs, leaving them draped over the side. “I am so sorry for the things I said earlier. I did not mean it.” Shame stabbed at your lungs and behind your eyes. Your jaw ached with it, and your tongue was sour with traces of your own bitterness. 

“It’s okay. I understand,” she said. You didn’t deserve her tenderness.

“You should not have to, Natalia. It is not fair for you to deal with.”

“Remember when we promised each other we’d never leave the other one alone?” 

You huffed a dry laugh. “We could not have been more than fourteen years old.”

“So more than old enough to know what we were saying,” she countered.

“It will happen again,” you said, tone darkening. 

“And I’ll be there when it does.”

“I cannot control it. Sometimes things happen and I feel everyone is out to get me.” You flicked your gaze away from her face. “Then the shouting and the hateful words and the rage comes. I do things I cannot take back.”

“That’s why you need people who know that that isn’t really you. Who know you’re kind and loyal to the bone. Who will help you heal.” 

“I am not sick,” you insisted. 

“I know. But we need to understand whatever this is,” she said. “Before it gets you into trouble with the wrong people.”

You took a deep breath, ribs shuddering like the bars of a rusted cage. “I am scared,” you whispered. 

Natalia ran a calloused hand across your cheek. “I know,” she said. “Just know you’re not alone. We’ll figure this out together.”

You nodded your head, afraid that speaking might reveal the lump in your throat.

“Come on, let’s get some rest,” she said, tugging on the collar of your shirt.

 “You are unbelievable,” you mumbled.

“What happened to me being the best person ever?”

“You can be both.”

She peered down at you, eyes alight with mischief. “I haven’t heard a ‘no’.”

Exhaustion had broken down your resolve, and you’d have a better chance of sleeping through the rest of the night in the bed. “Okay.” Your agreement had nothing to do with the way Natalia blinked slowly at you, nor the way she had taken to sifting her fingers through your hair.

“Finally,” she said, lips quirking up in a victorious smile. “You’re almost as stubborn as me. Not quite though.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you said, pushing yourself fully onto the bed. “Do not make me change my mind.”

You laid down and Natalia settled her head on your chest. “You’re so warm,” she said.

“Is that why you wanted me up here? Cause you were cold?” 

“No,” she said as she pressed her cheek further into your collarbone. “Go to sleep.”

“Goodnight Natalia.”

“Goodnight.”

You woke in the morning not to the terror of memory infiltrating your mind but to sunlight illuminating the space before your eyelids. You blinked rapidly, clearing away the morning bleariness. You couldn't recall the last time you had started your day after sunup. 

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Natalia said, still buried into your side. Under the sheet her legs tangled up in yours. 

You yawned, stretching your arms above your head. “Have you been awake long?”

“No,” she said. “Just a few minutes maybe. I think we should get up though. I imagine Cooper will be awake soon. It would be cruel to keep him waiting. I remember how exciting Christmas morning was.” She said, sounding far away. “It wasn’t real, but…there is something really magical about this time of year.”

You rubbed gentle circles on her upper back in between her shoulder blades where you knew she held tension. “It is real now, no? For the Bartons and for us, Christmas means something?” 

“Yeah,” she breathed, crinkles around her eyes when she looked at you. “This is real.” You had a feeling she wasn’t referring to the holidays anymore.

“Before we go downstairs I have something for you,” you said. You palmed the thin silver necklace that had been stored in your bag. “Turn around and close your eyes.”

“Should I be nervous?” She asked as she faced away from you.

“No, no.” You clasped the chain around her neck. “Okay you can look now.”

Natalia examined the charm, cupping it in her hand. “I um—I didn’t get you anything.”

“And you do not need to,” you said. “You are all I could ever want.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Clint took me out. I was saving it for the right time. Now seemed perfect.” You looked at the little silver sword strung hilt to blade tip along the necklace. Your signature weapon. “Do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” she said, smiling up at you in a way that made your head go empty and quiet. You felt as if everything might be okay when she smiled at you.

“It is, uh…It is to remind you that I am always on your side. That I am always with you even when it may seem like I am not.” Your heart pounded with fear she may reject the gift. She would cast it aside, and you with it.

“It’s perfect,” she said instead. “You’re perfect.”

“Merry Christmas Natalia.”

“Merry Christmas.”

A/N: The drive from D.C. to Iowa is definitely NOT doable in the time they make it in the story.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader

[kaisntbreathing]

Hi hi! Could I ask for adam x seraphim!female!reader, where after adam died he ended up in hell (like a reverse pentious) and its sort of angsty in the beginning because reader has taken over from adam and her and lute were close before and it's like sad bcs it's the first extermination after Adams death, and when they go down, lute is really protective of reader because girl can't go through that shit again and then they are walking down a street and reader gets tackled into a hug and lute almost kills the person BUT turns out its adam?

(Little more context I guess? Adam and reader where dating before, and reader and lute were already close but became closer. This isn't readers normal job (lutes in charge of training everyone still), and she is basically the same as sera and Emily in the fact she does courts and stuff but she chose to help with exterminations on the day off because she wants to help heal her sadness by taking it out on ppl?)

SORRY IF ITS TOO LONG XX

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 ❦

𝐑𝐀𝐇𝐇𝐇𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐘𝐀𝐇𝐇𝐇𝐇𝐇𝐇𝐇-

𝐈 𝐇��𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐏𝐓 ��𝐍 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 24 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏-

𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐓

I LOVE YOU LILY OMG YOU HAVE SUCH A BIG BRAIN OMGOMGOMG-

BUT SERIOUSLY I LOVE THIS IDEA AND I'M ACTUALLY RLLY HIGH WHILE WRITING THIS SO HEHEHE

'۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪┊﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋┊ཻུ۪۫❁۪۪'

With all the court date business with being a Seraphim and all of the stress of the exterminations is now being put on your shoulders you had the duties like the other Seraphims, there were three of you. Yourself, Emily, and Sera the three of you managed to get by but it was a lot of work you couldn't imagine how much work the archangels had to do.

And what made matters worse you were still grieving about your dead boyfriend who had died last year to the exterminations to none other than Charlie Morningstar and Lucifer Morningstar themselves and he was finished off by a lowing janitor demon who is no bigger than a child at the most.

You and Lute had been given unwanted promotions which led to more stress and work under your shoulders and on your wings.

As the next extermination was already a few days away you had to prepare you had planned to go down and kill some demons since you felt the urge to and you had been given the green light by the other Seraphims to do so you had to take out your unacquitted rage somehow.

Since it was only currently bubbling up inside of you and you knew that wasn't healthy nor was it safe since eventually you were going to bubble over and snap at somebody you don't mean to and only God knows what kind of trouble that could get you into.

As you were counting down the days till the next extermination you had been talking with your best friend Lute who you'd grown closer to since Adam's death she had taught you how to defend yourself in case something happened to you and she couldn't be by your side to protect you which probably wasn't going to happen since she had gotten very protected and very protective of you.

"One more day... One more day marks the day I lost you..."

You spoke as you looked at the picture of the two of you the first time you and Adam had hung out in a picture frame by your bed as you felt the hot stinging tears roll down your cheeks you couldn't help but choke back a sob you missed him more than anything he was the man you were supposed to spend the rest of your afterlife with.

But those plans have been rudely interrupted by none other than the king and princess of Hell you promised yourself one day you get your revenge but you knew in this current state you are nowhere near strong enough to take on Lucifer on your own.

Even as a Seraphim who could possess high power stood no match to Lucifer who was a fallen archangel only another archangel or God Almighty themself could take him down.

You were snapped out of your trance by the sound of knocking what you're doing as you snapped your head towards the door you responded letting the other person know they could come in as the figure of your friend Lute made her way back into your room as she noticed your tears as she rushed towards you bringing her self close to you pulling you into a hug quickly.

"I miss him too Y/n..."

ONE DAY LATER

It was extermination day finally as you and the rest of the exterminators along with your friend Lute flew towards the portal to Hell as you arrived at the dark dingy and ominous landscape of Hell that smelled like rot and decay, you coughed as the air was harsh and bitter to the taste as your nose scrunched up.

"It reeks here..."

"Yeah you never get used to the smell"

As you flew around the streets of Hell looking toward for any demon that you could stick your weapon into your weapon was different than the other angels you had your own weapon as a Seraphim much like an archangel that got their own weapons although there's were more customized while you only had a two-sided spear one side was sharp and smooth and the other was rigid and curved nonetheless both ends were very sharp.

Suddenly something caught your eye as you stopped and hovered as your wings folded against your back as your feet touch the pavement as you looked into a dark alleyway seeing a pair of golden eyes staring right back at you, as you tilted your head in confusion on why they weren't running instead they were running towards you.

Suddenly the demon embraced you. You were confused for a moment until he looked up at you and you immediately recognized who it was.

"A-Adam?"

"You remember me?"

"Of cou-"

"Y/N!"

You heard Lutes panicked voice behind you as you spun around trying to diffuse her anger as you shielded Adam from Lute making her stop in her tracks as she looked confused at you before you stepped away showing the demon as she dropped her own spear embracing him tightly as the three of you embraced each other.

The trio is back together.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #kai #xreader #requests open #adam hazbin hotel #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel adam x reader

[milkypompon]

The Blind Bet

pairing: Miguel x reader | Inspired by The Bet by guardianangelcas

summary: “One month, you and me. No sex, no touching yourself, no orgasms.” Miguel grins as if he’d already won the bet.

content: Miguel knows exactly how to wind you up and break you down... teasing, enemies to lovers, semi-public touching, fingering, sextape, recording, masturbating... he's watching hehe

wc: 4.5k

How?

How in the hell was it possible that the chances of avoiding this situation were slim to none in the vast multiverse? Annoyingly called the Archno-Humanoid-Poly-Multiverse by the very same man who roped you into a challenge that deprived you of the only good thing after coming back from a grueling mission. 

Gone were the nights of unzipping your Spidersuit to toss it into the hamper before taking a hot shower leaving your skin raw and vulnerable. Then hastily patting yourself dry with a towel that was soon to be repurposed as a rag for under your thighs — in an attempt to catch your or chosen companion’s cum before it seeped into the mattress.

Looking back, Miguel fucking O’Hara crafted his words to reel you in. Hook, line, and sinker. 

–

One month ago.

“I know you’ve been using the interdimensional gizmo at night to visit your… friends.” Per usual, he was nonchalant, scrolling through anomalies on his platform, now touching the ground (a habit you noted when you were in the office with him). As if he didn’t reveal that he’d been tracking your movement with Lyla’s help, who was just as eager to know what you were up to the late hours when any other normal person would be awake. 

But that was the problem in itself, you weren’t human and neither was Miguel. The stupid machine by Alchemax was to blame. Not only the incident result in both of you needing a bump of Rapture daily but it also required a quick fuck to satiate the burning feeling teetering between pain and desire at the pit of the stomach. 

You didn’t reply for a few beats, which was a mistake because the dead air was suffocating. There was no sound other than the occasional beeps from the monitors and dashboard. Even with your heightened senses, Miguel’s breathing was quiet. If his back weren’t turned to you with his shoulders slightly lifting up and down, you would think he was breathing at all. 

“Don’t you have better shit to do than checking my coordinates, O’Hara?” You steal your voice into some semblance of superiority but fail terribly at gaining control over the conversation. 

It was a constant push and pull between you two. Who would tap out first? Who would shoot the first web? Who would sink their teeth in first? Figuratively, you suppose, but also literally because your canines are starting to itch beneath your gums, threatening to unsheathe themselves into fangs. 

“That watch is company property. A company that I happen to own. Therefore, I have the right to know where it is.” Miguel releases an unamused laugh. “I’m not using it to stalk you, you narcissist.”

“Says the one who replaced his dead alternate so he could fuck his wife—” 

Miguel grimaces at your comment before cutting you off, “And it happened to be in a particular universe that wasn’t yours. Care to explain? Or maybe you can just simply confirm my suspicions with a simple yes or no because you don’t seem to be articulate with your words… according to last night.”

Oh.

You forgot to turn off your watch after your debriefing with Miguel. And he heard everything. You had half a mind to tug his shoulder and turn him around just to punch the smirk off of him that you knew was contorting his face. So, you did, or close to at least until he caught your fist and encapsulated it with his own.

“Play nice, nena” Miguel mutters under a slight tug of his mouth. 

The bastard found it amusing, listening to the sounds you made while you were pushed down into the mattress with a man who knew how to use his dick. Or at least good enough to help you sink deep into a dreamless sleep after a day of beating anomalies into a pulp and tossing it through the swirling vortex. 

But you did dream that night, so maybe the nameless man wasn’t as good at maneuvering himself inside of you as you thought. Your mouth went dry as you recollected vivid events in the dream. Of course, it was about your boss. 

You shake your head to ground yourself. “You fucking recorded it! I bet you sat your ass down on your chair and jacked off to me moaning. You disgusting—” 

“The gizmo records everything so I can playback the content to observe the…” Miguel grimaced when he realized he was making the situation worse. “That’s beside the point. I deleted it already.” 

You step back, letting your arms fall to your side but you still keep your hands balled up — the only way to stop yourself from engaging your talons. 

Miguel looks at you with a blank stare, almost bothered. “Did you really think I would’ve saved the video?” 

You scoff, “I wouldn’t put it past you.” You didn’t mean it of course, but something fiery licked at your throat to demolish him in a battle of wit and snarky comebacks. 

Although the man didn’t have a running streak of good morals considering his long-standing chase with the 15-year-old boy who wanted to save his father, Miguel drew the line there – somewhere between not breaking canon and the depravity of voyeurism through a sextape.  

He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Whatever, just don’t let it happen again.” 

Again?

That means Miguel has thought about the chances of this situation reoccurring with your head against your pillow, eye-rolling back, muttering incoherent chatter of pleasure, recorded on his company property gizmo. An open welcome for him to display it on his various monitors, big or small, the video would be the same, you split open by a lucky bastard that wasn’t him.  

You wet your lips, feeling his eyes drift down to the pink tip of your tongue. He wants your mind twisting to read between the lines, treating you the way he draws information out of anomalies wreaking havoc. Little do they know Miguel plays just as dirty, creeping into their heads. 

You grimace, “Stop.”

“Stop what?” Miguel hides a chuckle under the guise of clearing his throat. He saunters over to his work chair, leveled closer to the ground more than usual, and makes himself comfortable. 

Any other person would’ve relished the idea of gleaning over his broad figure, but it was a false sense of dominance on your end. He knew it and so did you. You have to give it to him because it would be working if you didn’t know him so damn well.

If you weren’t warming up beneath your Spidersuit, you would’ve been insulted by his attempt to reel you in… 

Into what exactly? 

“That!” You shoot your arms toward him and almost whine. “This is your second time trying to set me up and make myself look like an idiot!”

“Oh, so you’ve been keeping track?” Now there was a full-blown grin on Miguel’s face. “Just like how you keep mental tick marks of how many people you’ve had sex with this week?” 

At this point, you weren’t entirely sure what you felt, but it was between a fever and a cold sweat. Your cheeks burned with color or were devoid of it with the way he said ‘sex’ to you or even asked the question – as if he wanted to know what you had for breakfast this morning before the debriefing took place.

Miguel was no holy virgin either, so he wasn’t one to talk. He was a ravenous lover, not in the sense of intimacy, but in carnal desire. There was not much to blame other than how his DNA was altered to contain spider genes, hence creating the need to let off some steam with anyone who could bear his child. 

But he had morals and an even amount of self-restraint. He wasn’t about to hop into a dimension with brothels to fulfill his needs. No matter how glaring or bothersome it was to feel his hard-on against his suit.

Instead, Miguel had a ‘roster’, as Peter B. liked to call it. It was a list of Spiderpeople he rotated throughout the week. The arrangement was a simple act of mutualism. He could rely on them to simulate the chosen partner being filled with his seed, while he helped them get their rocks off for the night. 

You had a similar routine, Miguel observed, considering that you had the same canon event as him. Not to mention, you happen to log off from the watch on the dot.

Except for last night, when you’d left it on.

 “You’re one to talk, O’Hara.” You dig your heels into the ground, watching his brows sit above his dark eyes. “Swinging your ass around Nueva York as if you haven’t fucked at least a quarter of the women in this compound.”

“So, you do keep count. Not of your escapades but of mine.” Miguel leans back into the chair. 

“Mm, right because everything is about you,” You snarl and take a stride between his thighs.

“Fine, then let’s make it about you. You can’t control yourself if your life depended on it,” He says in a low voice, a timbre that makes shivers run down your spine.

Poets, or in your case, blind idiots, say that the third time’s the charm. And although this was his third time trying the make you an idiot, there was nothing particularly charming about it. 

He knows you wouldn’t pass up on the opportunity to one-up him in a challenge. It didn’t matter if it was about who could wrap up an anomaly case the fastest or in indirect ways of seeing which new batch of Spiderpeople under your or his supervision would improve the quickest, it never got to the point of this. 

It was an act of chalking up your sex life to simply win another challenge and gain bragging rights.

The better, more mature part of you should walk away from the situation, but there’s a seedling of a dark fantasy that was determined to see if Miguel would play along. 

Maybe it wasn’t even about winning anymore, but you’d rather choke on your own tongue than admit that. To see him breathe when you breathe was palatable enough. 

“One month, you and me. No sex, no touching yourself, no orgasms.” Miguel grins as if he’d already won the bet.

–

Present Day

In the canteen, You grip the tray housing your lunch, a blue Spiderman 2099 burger with a side of fries shaped like webs. The mindless chatter of your coworkers was comforting until there was one whose presence stood out the most. So much so that the figure garbed with a pink, fluffy robe and baby carrier snatched your peripherals.

“Heyyy!” Peter B. drawled and lightly bounced the furious curls of red attached to his chest.

“Pretty patty,” Mayday giggled and pointed to the burger.

“Little Red’s been watching Spongebob.” He grins and settles onto the seat across from you, careful of sitting too close for Mayday’s chubby hand reaching over for a fry. “Speaking of which–”

You bring a finger up to your lips, successfully shutting him up. After years of working under the Spider Society, you made sure there was a carved-out section of your schedule to discuss missions. At the canteen with a hot meal in hand wasn’t the time and place.  

“You’re just like him. When there’s food around, the rest of the world disappears.” Peter plucked the fry from Mayday’s hand. “Big no, no. Mama won’t be happy if you eat greasy num nums. 

He proceeds to pop the greasy num num into his mouth and you roll your eyes with a small smile.

“Wonder how ya don’t get along with him, kid. Miguel, I mean. Almost clawed my face off when I went into his office while he was eating empanadas,” He remarks.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Anyway, why are you here? Haven’t seen you in the canteen since you’ve been eating lunch with MJ and Little Red back in your universe,” You note.

“Right, right. About that.” Peter takes a pregnant pause. It was just enough time to pick up what he was about to ask.

You groan in frustration. “I am not gonna switch shifts with you again. You always manage to set up your dates with MJ when you have the worse missions.”

Peter pouts. The grown man has the audacity to pout. But, you can’t help but sigh and slowly nod because it reminds you of when Mayday motions towards your webslingers, hoping to persuade you. 

“Fine, but I’m doing it for Red.”

He snaps his fingers. “I owe you one, kiddo.”

A gruff voice that’s all too familiar calls out to him, “Peter–” 

He fidgets with the straps of the baby carrier before standing up. The sound of the metal screeching against the floor makes you wince. Somehow, he sidesteps Miguel and grins at him.

“Don’t miss me too much, O’Hara. Got a date night with the wife, but you’re in good hands tonight.”

And just like that, Peter pats Mayday’s head and steps through the portal without another word. You and Miguel stand there without a sound while watching the rip through the multiverse sew itself shut.

You shift your weight from foot to foot and decide to break the silence. “Does Peter know?”

Miguel shakes his head. “‘Bout the bet? Of course not, keeping this stupid thing between us to my grave.”

“One that you made by the way.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” He mutters. Miguel hates how quickly you snap back into place to shove a knife deep in his gut to get a reaction out of him. It’s a habit, practically second nature now. 

He rakes his eyes over your face as if etching every single slant and angle to his mind. A few flecks of salt from the fries were sprinkled along the curve of your lips. He wonders how it’d taste if he licked it before dipping his tongue into your mouth, licking the sweet saliva pooling there, waiting for him. 

Or how it’d seep out as he guides his cock into your mouth. He almost groans at the thought.

Lyla materializes his watch and bounces to your shoulder. “Hey, pretty lady! I saw Peter swap his name for yours for tonight.”

You steal Miguel’s words. “Thanks for the reminder.”

He turns his back to you and throws his head over with a nod. “C’mon, back to my office. I need to fill you in about the anomaly.”

You trudge behind him because walking beside him seems too intimate and leading the way would show the slight tremble of your legs. Besides, opting to fall a few feet after him gives you a good view of his ass. Not that you were looking.

Lyla imitates your strides despite floating above the ground. “Whatcha thinking about, babes?”

You run a hand over your face to cover the flush. “Thinking about how to catch the anomaly.”

She giggles in a foxy tone. “I haven’t said anything about the mission.”

“Oh, right–” 

You’re met with a firm back pressed onto your chest.

Miguel juts his chin over to the display monitors. “Take my seat. I’m gonna need some coffee for this job. You?” 

With a silent laugh, you shake your head at his offer. Working with him for, god knows how long, introduced you to his quirks. One of them is how he takes his coffee. It was a deep black that light barely penetrated. On rare occasions it did, you could his constant frown reflected on it.

Miguel O’Hara was as bitter as his coffee. Go figure. 

You slide into the chair, surprised by how comfortable the cushion is. It was probably engineered to keep his ass snug for hours on end as he monitored the universe to make sure it didn’t collapse, or something along those lines.

A few feet behind you, he waved his hand. “Lyla, the explainyinfo thing.”

Her heart-shaped glasses are perched on the bridge of her nose. “Gotcha, bossman.” 

In front of you are displays of Adriano Tummino, better known as the Vulture from the Renaissance era. He nested inside an abandoned warehouse, trying to make sense of the world that was no longer dipped in sepia and scribbles of ink.

“Don’t know how he managed to get out the first time.” Miguel sips his so-called coffee. Should’ve just chewed on the beans, you thought. 

“Crafty man,” You quip, earning you a short puff of air from his nostrils.

He grabs the back of the chair and swivels it for you to face him. You pressed yourself against it, trying to take up as little room as possible, but he was close. Your legs fall limp on either side of his thighs as he leans down to your height.

Deja vu hits you, then replaced by swirling vertigo. 

You and Miguel were in this exact position a month ago albeit in reverse. 

“That crafty man needs our undivided attention during the stakeout. Prepare yourself however you need to.” His warm breath, stained with the scent of coffee, caressing your lips.

A few beeps and flashes of light bounce off from his watch. It catches your eye as your name pops up above arcs of lines that rose.

“Careful, nena. Your heart rates spiking.” Miguel’s fangs poked out from the edge of his lip, giving you a small smile. Your neck itched at the thought of feeling it sink down into your jugular before he lapped up at the twin holes. 

To make sure neither of you cheated on the bet, you suggested giving both ends of the party access to each other’s heart rate monitors on the watch. Because of his snarky remark, which could’ve been a serious suggestion now in hindsight, about setting up a camera feature. It made you scoff… and turned on.

“Breathe in and out slowly. Even out your heartbeat.” Miguel warned.

There was nothing more you wanted to grab the back of his neck and shove his face into your pussy. That’ll shut him up.

And get you off.

You reach the tip of your toes onto the ground and give it a hard push, sending you rolling back a good few inches. The short distance was still suffocating, but it was enough to let you press your thighs together – the seams of your Spidersuit rubbed against your clit, sending small pulses throughout your body.

But stopping before his watch indicated another spike in your pulse. You’re aware of his eyes on you until he rips it off.  

Miguel straightens himself up before the Spiderman mask wraps around his face. He tried to hide the grin under it but the amusement slipped through. 

Alerts resounded on his gizmo. For a good second, you thought it was about you. That alone would’ve sent you into cardiac arrest. But it was simply a detection of the Vulture’s universe. 

He was on Earth-616B. 

Peter B.’s universe.

Funny.

You fiddle with your gizmo, a bright shower of neons bounced off of you as the portal opened up. Adrenaline coursed through your veins. It wasn’t ideal to have jitters when the mission was to birdwatch the Vulture next to the man you were deprived of. 

Miguel headed in first with you in tow. The sun was about set over the building both of you were perched on. He couldn’t help but think about how Peter ditched him to go on a date with MJ on a night like this.

“There,” You snapped him out of his thoughts. Below you was a crumbling building surrounded with shards of glass from the shattered windows. It was easy to keep an eye on the Vulture while he wrote chicken scratches on the floor – plans of creating primitive technology. 

He grabbed your wrist and tugged you down next to him. With a finger to his lips, he indicated to you to keep quiet.

You whisper-shouted, “I’m not your subordinate.”

“You saying that just proved you wrong.”

That shut you up for a few hours. It was dark out by now. The sky was empty of stars, but the city lights sparkled enough to keep you entertained for a little while longer.

“Can’t we just grab him and go? What’s the whole ‘stake out’ plan for?” You airquoted. 

Miguel pressed his shoulder against yours to keep a low voice. “If he was able to bust out the first time, we need to figure out what he’s making to combat his machine.” 

You hated that he was right but your muscles were starting to cinch together from crouching. If you stood up to stretch, the Vulture would spot you through his goggles. So, you opted to roll your head back a few times.

In Miguel’s peripheral, he saw the expanse of your neck covered by the skintight spandex, stretching as you shifted. It looked small, he thought. How easy it would be to wrap his hand around and gently squeeze it to keep you quiet. Instead, he clamped it around your waist, pulling you to rest your back on his chest. It was loose enough to let you wiggle out of his grasp while still feeling the warmth crawling down to where you needed it most. 

“Quit moving.” 

The past few weeks without any form of release between your legs was agonizing. This was quite the most you’ve been touched in a while. If his fingers crawled a few inches down, he’d feel the damp fabric slick with your arousal. 

“Y-You’re cheating, O’Hara. Don’t you fucking dare–” You snarl in a low whisper.

“Ay coño… Fuck the bet,” He mumbles close to you, his clothed length pressing against the curve of your ass. There was a moan threatening to bubble up if he put on any more pressure. It was too much and yet not enough. “Did you really think Peter was too busy to do this damned stake-out with me tonight? He’d bring out his baby just to be a part of a mission.”

You threw your hands over the railing, trying to stabilize and ground yourself with what little resilience you had left as you were nestled on your knees with him close to rutting up to you. You knew he didn’t have the balls to do it, not because he’d lose, but because he wanted you to fall apart in his hands. 

“Off… Get off.” You swallow. Every part of you was trembling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take what he was willing to hand out. And all you had to do was–

“Just ask, nena.” The drawl of his voice made you dizzy, your head fell back to his shoulder. “Ask me to sink my fingers in that pretty pussy of yours. Come on my fingers and I won’t count it against you.” He offers you a slight reprieve with the olive branch.

You chew your bottom lip in contemplation, a million thoughts dipping in and out of your mind.

Fuck this. Fuck the bet. Fuck him… up, down, and around. You want Miguel in every single way. 

You arch your back, the plush of your bottom rubbing up against his clothed cock. 

It takes everything in him to stop your movement. “Easy, easy, yeah? Use your words. It’s just you and me,” He murmurs deep into you.

“And Big Bird on steroids below us!” You try to snap back, but your voice shakes with embarrassment. 

“Stupid bird’s not gonna see us as long as you behave.” Miguel moistens his lips with the tip of his tongue. He was choking on the thought of laying you down on his bed to taste every last drop you’ll give him, then fuck you senseless. But this awkward position with your back pressed against his chest while both of you kneeled toward the railing would be enough. 

You reach to the back of your neck where the zipper for the Spidersuit dangled at every attempt of pulling it down. Miguel was of no help, his fingers idly tapped a rhythm on your hips. You felt him vibrate with amusement at your expense.

You toss your head back to rip your mask off and glare at him only to be met with his mask. 

With a last chuckle, he tugs the zipper down, watching the spandex pool around your waist. 

“Careful. Not everyone is a billionaire with infinite tech–”

It wasn’t enough. He gave it one last pull past the curve of your ass. 

You’re about to scold him again but you hear him swallow. Despite not being able to see his face, you could already imagine it.

“Ay… Not even wearing panties under this,” Miguel breathes, grabbing a handful of the plump skin. 

“Gets itchy,” You protest.

You can feel him molding the tender flesh into his palm. “Fuck– I know I see you wearing your suit every day, but… God, this is—”

Miguel’s suit retracts, exposing his skin just below his wrist bone. Something in your core bubbles up, a mixture of dread and arousal because you knew deep down that if he started now, you’d find yourself crawling back for more. Back into his office. Back into his bed. With his warm hand cupping over your pussy on the roof of an abandoned building it didn’t matter where he dragged you along. 

“You’re dripping, dios mío— all over my fucking fingers. You’re so wet. Just for me, huh?” Miguel digs his nose into the crook of your neck, his breath leaving you hot. “Working hard every day to save the universe. Not a single person stopped to give you gratitude. You just need someone to take care of your little cunt.”

And god, you want him to do it. 

“Well, too bad. This is a thankless job.” He slaps your bare sex with a shlick, his fingers grazing your clit ever. 

No matter how much you jut up to encourage him to do anything, his grip on your waist was too strong. There’s nothing to do but follow his pace and feel whatever he is willing to give you. 

“Down, take it easy. And stay focused, I still need you to keep an eye on the anomaly.” Miguel cranes his cheek down to nuzzle you. It was a poor attempt to coo your overwrought body, how did he expect you to remember what you came here for?

“Fine,” You say in a gruff voice.

“Good girl.” Miguel pulls the lips apart with two fingers, coating it with you before pressing it in. Each knuckle made you suck in a deep breath. It feels like you’ve run out of air. Floating now, you think. But the moment he curls his fingers to that spot, you’re reeling back onto earth. “There, isn’t it?”

He slides out of you, flurries of curses are caught in your throat. He knew how to drag this out. He brings the slick to the edge of your mouth. “Open for me.”

He groans as he shoves his fingers into your mouth. He wanted to taste you, but he wasn’t going to. Not yet. It didn’t feel right if it wasn’t right from the source, but that’ll have to wait. He wants you to collapse in on yourself first before he does anything else.

“Miguel.”

“I know, nena.” 

#Across the spiderverse #Marvel #Spiderman 2099 #Spiderman fanfiction #Spiderman x reader #Miguel Ohara #Miguel Ohara x reader #Miguel Ohara x you #Miguel Ohara fluff #Miguel Ohara smut #Miguel Ohara x reader fluff #Miguel Ohara x reader smut

[sagaduwyrm]

Yo, I wrote something.

It Matters to Have this Ghost Clan Near (This Family I Never Knew)

Held prisoner by an alien god-monarch, the only way the Justice League is getting out of here is by proving they have family waiting for them. This is easy enough for Clark and Bruce, but of Diana's family her mother isn't exactly easy to contact, and her relationship with the rest of her family is... complicated.

Luckily, just because he's dead, doesn't mean Kronos doesn't still care about his granddaughter.

"Clark. Bruce. Leave me here." Wonder Woman snarled the words as fierce as her heritage had taught her, and it only made Bruce more furious about the entire situation.

"Well? Have you made a decision yet? We won't wait forever." The alien monarch lounged on their throne, an ugly, amused glint in their eyes. It made Bruce want to break something, but the trio were outnumbered and far from home, and they were only getting out of here at all by the grace of the monarch's will.

He hated foreign gods. The ones on earth were tolerable, some, like Diana, he even liked, but gods from other worlds didn't push his buttons so much as they stomped on them with soccer cleats.

Wonder Woman was becoming visibly panicked. "Friends. Shield-brothers. Leave."

Bruce ignored her and tried to think of a way past this. The mrydonians and their god-monarch were fond of keeping people they found interesting. Anyone with any kind of power who stumbled into their lonely corner of the universe tended to find themselves stuck. They had even managed to trap gods before; the god-monarch reigned over the very concept of mrydonian space, and it allowed them to win out over gods of lesser or more distant domains. Diana, as the goddess of heroes, was below such a powerful genius locus, and the sun wasn't the kind that could fully power Clark up, preventing them from fighting their way out.

Thankfully, there was one loophole. The mrydonians held family sacred, even above their only god, and if they could prove they had family waiting for them they would be let go.

A quick call back home had settled the matter for him and Clark. His kids had answered the phone immediately, as had the Kents. Unfortunately, what little of Diana's relatives she considered true family were out of contact. They just needed one person who could claim her and mean it, but although she was close with a number of people, including his family, they had always labeled it as a friendship. He was kicking himself for that now, but how was he supposed to know—

"You can not find family for her then?" The alien's smarmy voice interrupted his thoughts as the being's smile widened. "She will just have to stay here then. We are so glad to host her—"

The doors, enormous and more literal incarnations of the god's power than physical objects, slammed open with a bang that echoed through the room. The god's head jerked around and they began standing up. One of the priests screamed, "Who dares intrude upon this sacred space?"

Between the open doors stood a boy. A teenager really, with floating white hair and inhuman green eyes, wearing a black and white suit. He waved. "Hey. I'm Danny." His bright smile was incongruous with the tense atmosphere, and every fiber of Bruce's being screamed with wariness. "That's my cousin over there. You know, the one you're planning on keeping prisoner."

"What. Diana—"

Clark was turning to her as Diana kept her eyes on the new threat, and she hissed back. "I don't know Clark. You've met all of my family. I don't know this boy."

The teenager in question stalked forward down the court, stopping between the god and the three justice league members. He moved oddly, too flexible and not as affected by gravity as he should be, and Bruce carefully took notice of what he saw. Oftentimes, when a being was non-human, the weak spots Batman depended on in a fight were in different places, so close observation was necessary if things dissolved into a battle.

The monarch's next words were an affronted rumble that did not lower Bruce's worries about a fight. "She does not know you, boy."

"No," Danny agreed. "We haven't met. Old family disagreements, you know the drill. Grandfather didn't want to impose, and I followed his lead." He tilted his head like a cat. "Doesn't mean I can't claim her, though."

"Grandfather?" Diana muttered next to Bruce in confusion.

The boy turned to her. "Mmhmm. He would have come himself, but by the time he saw what was going on, he was in the middle of something that would be dangerous to put down. He couldn't get a hold of your father, so he sent me instead." His face morphed into something bashful for a moment. "Sorry, I'm so late."

"It does not matter that you are late," the alien monarch snarled. They were fully standing up now, holding a dangerous-looking spear in their hands. It didn't look like the rest of the mrydonian weaponry Bruce had seen. He wondered if it was stolen just like they stole people. The god continued, "She does not recognize you as family, it is not mutual, it does not matter."

"See, that's where you're wrong," Danny exclaimed cheerfully. "By your own words, you 'respect other cultural understandings of family than your own.' Well," the boy bared his teeth in a grin. He had far too many of them, and they were far too sharp to fit in the reality Bruce knew, making him wonder which branch of Diana's family tended towards the Eldritch. As the boy spoke, the words began to gain a hint of static. "In the culture of my people, one can claim another as family without it being mutual and it still holds up in a court of law as long as the other does not outright refute the relationship." He swiveled towards Diana. "I assume you're not?"

She shook her head even as her eyes remained hawk-fierce on him.

"So, I may not be her cousin, but she is mine, and since that would be accepted in my culture, you have to let her go, by your own rules."

"Do not patronize me in my own domain, boy." The ground shuddered with the god's words.

The teenager snarled right back, a deep rattling thing that reminded Bruce of an avalanche, and he lifted off the ground. He had a cloak that looked like someone had woven the night sky into armored cloth and a sword of black ice on his hip. Neither were there a couple of seconds ago, yet they felt like they'd been there the whole time. "Try me," Danny snarled. "My own domain isn't as far as you think."

The air grew tenser and tenser before it finally snapped. "Fine! She is your family. You may take her. Leave now or my generosity may not hold." The alien god stormed out with their head held high, but there was a definite sense of loss in the way they retreated.

Danny turned back to them. He landed on the ground in front of Diana, missing his war regalia again.

"Sorry that took so long! He was surprisingly stubborn."

"It's fine," Diana said warily. "Thank you… cousin."

The boy's eyes widened before he started to beam.

Diana continued. "Can I ask who is the grandfather we're related to?"

"You know him as Kronos."

All three of the Justice Leaguers froze. Diana's mouth gaped open and closed like a fish, but Clark at least managed to keep his wits about him. "Kronos is dead."

Danny turned to him curiously. "So?"

"So he's not alive," Clark stressed. "He couldn't have sent you."

Danny looked at him for a moment and burst out laughing. When his laughter calmed he said, "A god is still a god when they are dead, and the soul of a god is not nearly so easy to destroy as the body. Who do you think has been repairing the time stream after all the time travel you heroes do?" he asked wryly.

"If Kronos was still existent," Diana said firmly, "we'd know. He'd have already tried to take the cosmic throne again."

The teenage… being's gaze was inscrutable. "Would he? Really? Where are you getting that information?"

Diana sputtered. "It's common knowledge!"

Danny said dryly, "So you don't even have a first-hand account?"

"Well I certainly haven't seen any evidence to the contrary," she snapped back.

Danny was suddenly the most serious Bruce had seen him since he entered the palace. "He likes baking. He makes amazing persimmon cookies, and he's been trying to figure out a cinnamon roll recipe he likes. One time when I was upset he tricked the Observants into dying their capes rainbow. None of them ever figured out it was him, but he still brings me back to that moment when I need cheering up." The boy's expression softened as he looked at the woman who he had claimed as a cousin of his own accord. "When he realized he wouldn't be able to come himself to help you, he was furious. He had to use a lot of power to get me here on time, but he would have thrown away twice as much if it was for family."

Diana's face was working its way through a series of emotions, and Danny seemed to grow embarrassed by everything he'd said. "I should go so you can get home. I hang around in Illinois if you ever want to find me." He lifted off the ground, reaching out to tear some kind of portal open in the air. He turned back for a moment before he left. "Grandfather goes by Clockwork, nowadays. He'll answer to that if you ever need him." Then the boy was gone.

#danny phantom #fandom stuff #dp x dc #danny fenton #diana prince #wonder woman #Clockwork is Kronos #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover