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#working. and i didn't even successfully do that for two of them
mcuamerica · 15 hours
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The Shadowsinger: Four
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Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. mentions of abuse/violence, implied SA, aftermath of the Sangravagh attack, Tamlin is mentioned, mention of death, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!
Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Your first day of training with Azriel ends with you helping priestesses heal after an attack on their temple.
Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.
My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!
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Prologue - One - Two - Three
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After hours of training, you went down to the dining room with Azriel to eat lunch. “I think my legs might fall off.” You muttered as you sat down, wincing slightly as you adjusted your wings. You spent the whole first half of the day learning how to balance for a fight and then practicing fighting stances. You didn’t even make a fist until the last hour, and barely got into punches and jabs before Azriel called it for lunch.
He chuckled, sitting down across from you. “It can’t be that horrible, but if it is, I’ve got some good solvents for you to add to your bath. And a few oils.” He said.
“Are you suggesting you can give me a massage, Shadowsinger?” You teased, leaning forward on the table. Azriel flushed and his eyes widened. “Relax, I’m kidding. But I might take you up on those oils.” You said and started to dig into the food that appeared in front of you.
You glanced around, curious as to how none of the others were here. “They’re in a meeting right now.” Azriel said, as if he knew what your question was going to be.
“Oh… don’t you need to be in it?” You asked and he shrugged.
“Rhys will tell me what he needs to.” He said and looked at you for a few more seconds, frowning slightly. You could tell his shadows were talking to him, telling him something.
“I’ve gotta go.” He said and stood up.
You rose your eyebrows and looked at him. “Do you need-“ you started but he already vanished. Sighing, you slumped in your chair and started to eat again. You didn't even think to ask your shadows what was the matter.
Not even thirty minutes later, chaos erupted in the house. Dozens of priestesses were in the dining room, being healed by anyone who had the magic or the knowledge on how to do it. You helped bring clothes and water over, using some tonics and oils to help heal their wounds. None of them spoke and only whimpers and screams from the wounded could be heard.
Rhys said that their temple was attacked by Hybern soldiers, who successfully got what they came for. And left almost all the priestesses dead or badly wounded. And worse. So you did what you could to heal the wounded, using the training and your years of being the village healer with Sirona as best as you could.
Hours later, almost all of them had been taken back to the temple. Where they would heal and rebuild as much as they could. Mor was sent there with Amren to survey the damage and clean up everything they could.
Expect for one. An auburn haired acolyte who you saw Mor carry in. One of the first ones to arrive. You shot Azriel a look as if to question what happened and if she was okay, and he only shook his head in return. You saw Azriel’s jacket around her and guessed what happened.
She was the last sitting in the living room, new clothes and a blanket wrapped around her. She was still shaking even with the fire blazing. You brought a glass of water over to her, making sure to use heavy feet so you didn’t scare her as you set the glass down on the table next to her.
“If you’d like water, I brought some..” you said quietly. “Or I can have some tea made for you, it wouldn’t take long.” You offered and looked at her for a few moments. She blinked and looked at the water, reaching out for it slowly before taking a sip.
“Whenever you’re ready, I can show you to the library where a priestess will show you to your dorm.” You added and she took a deep breath.
“I- can you show me? I don’t… I don’t want to see anyone else.” She said and you nodded.
“Of course. Let me see where you’ll be staying.” You said and stood up.
“Can I… have tea, too?” She asked and you gave her a small smile.
“Is it okay if Mor brings it?” You asked and she nodded.
“It’ll be right out.” You said and walked over to where the rest of the Inner Circle were in Rhys’s office. “Mor, can you get tea for the acolyte in there?” You asked and she nodded, going to grab it.
“Rhys.. do you know where she’ll be staying?” You asked and he nodded, showing you where it was and giving you a basket of things that all the new priestess got. Robes, other clothes, towels, and a small pamphlet that let them knew their options for support and work.
“Thanks for helping, you were really good with all of them.” Rhys said and you nodded as you made your way back up to the living room.
“I used to help Sirona with healing at the village… and sometimes the Illyrians that came through weren’t too kind to the females. I treated more than I would have wanted.” You said and looked at the basket. “This program is amazing. I can’t imagine how many priestesses you’ve helped.” You said to him.
“They’re my responsibility to protect. And when I fail, it’s my responsibility to help them through it. And make them feel safe in their home.” He said and you smiled.
“You’re a good High Lord,” you said and patted his arm before heading to the living room, not noticing how stunned Rhys was as he watched you approach Gwyn and helped her to the library.
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“Everything okay?” Cassian asked and nudged Rhys.
“She said I was a good High Lord. After everything she’s seen me do. She said I was good.” He said and Cass smiled.
“You are good, Rhys. Everything you’ve done was to protect your people. To help Prythian.” He said and squeezed his shoulder. “No wings tonight?”
“No… sometimes it’s too intimidating. I don’t want to scare the females further.” He said, Cassian leading him back to the office.
When you came back to join them, Gwyn, you learned was her name, settled into her dorm for the night, you saw the stark faces.
“Whatever the Hybern soldiers stole… it wasn’t good, was it?” You asked. “I know I’m new here, so if you don’t want to talk about it around me I can leave-“
“It was a part of the Cauldron.” Amren said and you frowned. You heard stories of what happened to the Cauldron. How it was broken into pieces so it wouldn’t be used again.
“I- what?” You asked.
“We believe Hybern wants to reform the Cauldron. And they just got closer to doing it.” Rhys said and you took a seat in one of the chairs.
“That’s not good at all..” you muttered. “What can we do?” You asked.
“Not a lot. We can try to locate the other pieces. But even I don’t know where they are. Az has his spies looking now.” He said.
“And we’ll have to come up with a plan on what to do if the Cauldron is brought to full power.” Azriel said and you looked at him, noticing that his shadows swirled around him more than ever now. And that his face was almost just that, a shadow of what it normally was.
“Can I do anything?” You asked and Rhys glanced to his Inner Circle.
“For now, keep training. I may ask you to fight with us if it comes to that. And… while you’re in the library, see if you can find anything on the Cauldron and its power….” He said and you slumped slightly. You thought he’d offer something more… useful. But you were new, and you didn’t have the same powers as the others in the Circle. You didn’t even have a Siphon or killing power.
“Alright, I can do that.” You said and nodded.
You sat through the meeting, each of the Inner Circle getting assigned tasks throughout. Each of them left to start that night.
“Rhys…” you said before he could leave. “You… you haven’t mentioned Feyre since we got back. And you haven’t called in your bargain for her.” You said and he sighed.
“I can’t call it in… I’m letting her enjoy the time with… Tamlin... She deserved to be happy.” He said and you nodded.
“Like I said, a good High Lord.” You said and stepped closer to him. “But a better male.” You stated before making your way to the stairs so you could get some rest. You had to be up early for your training tomorrow anyway.
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A/N: Oof... this one was hard but I feel like it's important to highlight that the reader is also a healer and she knows how to help those who have been hurt. Also, I love her and Rhys's relationship sooooo much. Hopefully the timeline is correct, I’m going off of one I found on here when I started writing. If anything doesn’t add up, consider it a necessary change for the plot lol.
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front-facing-pokemon · 3 months
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unproduciblesmackdown · 11 months
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no, More active effort, More conscious consideration
#boo we HATE your [the implicit perspective that anything taking less effort / less thought is Good / an Improvement]#and it's like Getting Good at anything. Some element does become easier to navigate successfully?#great so now you can forever move on to devoting more conscious effort to Another element / really further evolutions of the same process#build on whatever understanding. if you realize something you thought was Correct seems not to be?#congratulations: it was inaccurate / too limited all along but now You know that. Better#thinking about [effort] thinking about [communication] means emitting a psychic blast doing all the Languaging of honing ideas#and b/c interactions are two way streets you get no guarantee anyone will listen / put effort into considering what they're picking up#it's a delight when someone Does happen to feel you're worth effort but everyone could be doing that on principle. they are not lol.#some actually not [jfc] comment on an akd interview like#they speak w/such precision they're used to not being listened to or understood like#well we'd have to ask them ofc but i won't even argue w/that concept lol#having One Chance To Get A Word In Ever like but you don't really when ppl misunderstand you which is an inevitability#and then made more likely by any number of factors. including not considering you worth the effort of Trying to understand#if they misinterpreted what you're conveying no they didn't; that's just What You Meant. double empathy style#gotta be out here figuring out The Approach when the outlier is ppl who do Not [only think you're worth effort as An Obstacle]#alleging how when you like urself you will now Earn Friends like the more i respect myself the more idc if i'm Interpersonally Beliked#the interpersonal relationship that Is guaranteed relevant of ''we're both people in the world & so already in relation in just that way''#i love to Socialize by being in public ''alone'' like clearly no i'm not & like getting to take up my bit of space / do my bit of a thing#while this fits into everyone else also having their presence; doing their thing; is >>>>> being with a group as its nth wheel for no reaso#the effort of what communication works w/what person in what situation#the effort of what navigation of the inherent mutual effect of your sharing [whatever System (like; physics style)] works out best / better#when ppl imagining this are still limiting it to Certain Interactions b/w everyone anytime as the ''ideal''....#sesame street was out here like. sometimes there's people wanting to be alone / who are ''unfriendly'' & they're still part of things#once again it's like kermit thee frog knows what's up. mister macabee old timey barkeep what should i do#furiosa as well lmao i should watch fury road again. i can sense it#you can't have much of a chitchat with her. and yet
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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DCxDP Fic Idea: The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord
Martha accidentally engaged Bruce to a higher being when he was two.
It sounds terrible, but she hadn't thought that the man wearing the Time ghost costume at her husband's Halloween Gala wasn't wearing a costume and was actually the physical embodiment of Time.
She just thought he took Halloween very seriously.
Mr. Clockwork was charming and didn't care that she had married from the lower level of first class. Her parents were rich, of course, but they weren't old money, and they certainly didn't have a lot of power to speak of.
Because of that, the elites of Gotham thought she wasn't good enough to be in a family such as the Waynes. It was so lovely not to be dragged into conversations that were thinly concealed insults.
Everyone else at the Gala thought Martha had no right to be there with them. Why was she just a few zeros off from being middle class, and wasn't it just so sad that Thomas would stain his family with her?
Secertly, Martha prayed Bruce would do something wild, like marry a girl from Crime Alley or even adopt kids in lower classes to make them all choke on their pearls.
Her son would be one of the most powerful men in a few years, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of hell he would unleash upon them. She would never push, of course, but it would be a nice fantasy to have every time she had to face passive-aggressive comments from ladies told by their fathers they would be a far better Mrs. Wyane.
" Why, hello there. Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Mr. Clockwork coos, smiling down at Bruce. He clung to his mother's skirt, his matching cowboy costume a miniature version of what she was wearing.
The boy had wandered over in the middle of their conversation once he was bored of coloring at his table. Martha couldn't blame her poor baby. There really wasn't much to do for those his age here.
Thomas had stated that children were usually not brought along due to being loud and distracting.
Martha wouldn't hear any of it, insisting her son would be going with them at the party or there would be no party. The majority of the elites believed children should be seen, not heard, and that boiled her blood something fierce.
Thomas had thankfully known when to pick his battles, so he allowed his wife to drag him to a costume store for a family costume to wear. He currently chatting with a group of investors in all his cowboy glory somewhere on the other side of the gala.
"Say thank you, Bruce," She tells her boy, but he only hides his face more, causing the two adults to chuckle. "Do you have kids, Mr.Clockwork?"
"Yes. Two daughters and a son" The man chuckles "All three are a handleful but I love them dearly."
"Oh, how wonderful. Bruce is my only son, but I want to give him siblings," she tells him warmly. She can picture Bruce chasing after his younger siblings dressed up as the Grey Ghost he loves.
She knows Thomas was worried about their chances of having a second child. He was informed not too long ago that he may suffer from secondary infertility. She didn't mind. If they couldn't have a child of their own by blood they could easily adopt.
Martha worked long and hard to provide good orphanages to the city. Maybe one day, a child from there could be her own. She'll have to speak to her orphanage managers- those in charge of the kids- to see if they could help her find one.
They have successfully been getting kids into good homes (At least she thought the number of children constantly changed, and the kids were never seen again, meaning the families that adopted them loved them enough to never return!)
Mr. Clockwork hums "how about giving him a spouse instead? My girls or boy could be a good partner"
Laughing, she assumes he meant her work on bettering the lives of the gay community- in honor of her brother who passed during the AIDs epidemic. "I'm sure Bruce would be happy to hear Mommy found him a husband."
"Is that a yes?" Clockwork eyes' flashed with an emotion that was gone too quick for her to identify.
"Yes, of course. If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all."
Mr. Clockworks red eyes - contacts? A medical condition?- gleam, and his voice takes on a strange rhythm. "Then so shall it be, my son Danny Fenton shall be married to Bruce Wayne per their Blood Mother and Core Father deal."
Huh. Maybe Mr. Clockwork is a nutcase. Suddenly, she thinks back to her father, who would often tell her that she lived in a delusion because he did not want her to see the horror that Gotham truly is.
Even when you think you're doing good, Gotham has a way of making your work into nightmares.
Was Mr. Clockwork one of those people he warned her about?
Thankfully, he leaves not long after that. He claims he must return to work before his co-workers notice him gone. She doesn't see him for the rest of the night and half wonders if she had been speaking to one of the wait staff they hired as extra help.
Not that she minded, but it made her think his name might not even be Clockwork.
She tells Thomas the story hours after Bruce is put to bed with a candy bucket and the last guests have all slipped home. Thomas is exhausted, having been playing host longer than her because Martha had left around eight to take Bruce trick and treating. Then she got home and put him down for his bedtime.
She got back to the party around eleven but it was a much-needed break from all the hostility that Thomas had been forced to face alone.
"WHAT!?" Thomas booms when she finishes the story. They had just crawled into bed, and Thomas had been rolling to his side for sleep before her words flung him back. "Clockwork!? You're sure you spoke to Clockwork!?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"What did he look like?"
"Um well he was in costume, but red eyes, blue skin, and he was wearing purple robes." She watches as the blood drains from her husband's face. "What is it darling? Who was he?"
"Oh, this isn't good....Alfred! Alfred!" Thomas frantically calls as if the devil had appeared in their bedroom.
Their servant and sometimes lover comes racing into the room, carrying a loaded shotgun. Ever since Thomas had met him overseas when he hired the British man as a personal bodyguard, he fell hard and fast for Alfred but he still deeply loved Martha.
He had sent Martha a letter detailing his feelings for his guard, and only after she had given him permission did he pursue the butler. Alfred had insisted on meeting Thomas' wife to prove that she was okay with him having a lover, so he had followed Wayne back home.
Then he simply never left.
Maybe because he was the best butler Wayne ever had, with his regal training and service in her royal highness' army, but she thinks that her own developed feelings for Alfred convince him to remain.
Alfred insisted that he was only a servant and thus could not be added to their marriage besides a bed partner occasionally. Still, Martha hoped one day they could convince him otherwise.
Bruce already saw him as a second father.
He looks at the pair, dressed in their nightwear in a rather enticing position (Thomas had grabbed Martha by her shoulder, to look into her eyes but that left them rather entangled on the bed) with no visible threat, and raises one brow.
Before he can say anything Thomas is all but rolling out of bed in a frantic leap. He tangles up in the blankets, falling gracelessly over the edge in failing limbs "Martha made a deal with Clockwork!"
At once, Alfred's handsome face drains of blood. "Oh dear, Martha darling, you made a grave mistake."
She can only blink at the men in confusion. "Who is Clockwork?"
"He has many names, but I knew him as Merlin," Alfred informed her evenly. He took her hand in his, the tremble in his fingers revealing his unease. " He had shown interest in Master Thomas before and was the one I protected him from. I barely fought him off and only due to outsmarting him. I would not be able to do it again a second time."
What?
"He is also known as a Fae or incubus in some circles. The kind that steals you away for fun." Thomas babbled from where he was pacing next to the bed, eyes franticly glancing about as if the bogggie man was about to leap out at him from the shadows.
For a moment, Martha wondered why her husband, a man of science and medicine who had never been superstitious, believed this Clockwork was some...some creature of myths.
"Martha, love, what did he ask of you?" Alfred questioned, bringing her hand to his lips as though kissing them would confirm she was safe before him.
"He asked for Bruce to marry his son."
"Oh, gods!" Thomas fretted, speeding up, his long strides becoming far more frantic. "Please say you didn't say yes."
"I-thought it was a joke, I didn't see anything wrong with it, I- said yes."
Alfred closed his eyes, looking like a man who had just been informed his death sentence had been signed by the Queen. "Then all we can do now is pray."
Years later, as Alfred is dusting the portrait of his deceased loves. He allowed his hand to trace the cover of Martha's painted smile and Thomas' strong jaw, mind filled with stolen kisses and sweet nothings that were ripped away that fateful night.
He is still struck by their loss. Every now and then, the knowledge of their death creeps in during his most mundane activities. It's like a kick to the chest every time.
Oh, how he misses them.
Ding Dong
The front doorbell jolts him out of his memories so violently it takes the aged Butler a moment or two to get a hold of his senses. He puts down the duster, climbs down the latter, and quickly makes his way to the door.
Stopping to fix his suit coat, he throws it open with a prepared smile. He expects extra help from the catering company Master Bruce hired for Wayne's annual Halloween Gala.
He was not expecting the two men, one looking nervous around Master Bruce's age and the other sly. His age is hard to gauge, but it may be due to time not affecting him as it did mortals.
Alfred's blood freezes at the sight of those cunning red eyes and smirk. "Merlin."
"Alfred Pennyworth." The demon chuckles. "I prefer Clockwork, as you know, but it's good to see you remember me. Most humans are prone to forgetting in their limited age."
"What are you doing here?"
"Why I came to fulfill the deal between Martha Wayne nee Kane and I"
"Martha is dead. Your contact is void."
Clockwork chuckles again, the sound as deadly as poison. "The contact lives as long as all those involved in it live. You know this."
Alfred presses the panic button on his wristwatch, knowing it sends a message to everyone in the manor to evacuate immediately. He will not live through this battle, but hopefully, it will give Master Bruce time to escape. "You will not lay a hand on Master Bruce."
"Come now, Alfred. We are to be in-laws. Our sons are joining in holy matrimony. Why the hostility-"
"Excuse me what?" The other man-demon? Ghost? Higher-being? cuts in, looking at Clockwork with brows knitted into a frown. "What did you mean holy matrimony?"
"Danny, you're getting married," Clockwork says with a cheerful wave.
"The hell I am!" The man barks, flushing red with anger. Alfred can hardly believe he just yelled at the monster. "I am not marrying some random guy!"
"It is the way things must go for the good of mankind-"
"Oh, go suck on a lemon! We both know that whole "this is fate" is bull!"
"You are embarrassing me in front of our new in-laws, younn man" Clockwork actually waves a finger at the fully grown human. "This is my one chance to marry you off to a good man. We both know that you can't attract a mate on your own."
"What!? Yes, I can! I've had girlfriends and boyfriends before!"
"And yet, no spouse! No wedding! Not even a ring!"
"Moby Dick, I knew this bonding fishing trip was a lie! You can't make me get married because of some contact you made when I was three!"
"It's not permanent! Martha Wayne said If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all. This means you both must want to be together after one year of marriage. See if you like it, and if you don't, I can always find you a new husband."
"This isn't returning a jacket to a store! I can't just see if I like being married Clockwork!" The man hissed running a hand through his hair. "We're going home. I'm so sorry for bothering you today Mr. Alfred."
Alfred blinks at the young man's sheepish smile, wondering if ti's a trick. "No bother at all."
"Danny, if you leave without marriage, Bruce Wayne will die in an hour due to breaking our contract," Clockwork says, crossing his arms. "Honestly, your sisters were far more mature regarding their marriages."
Danny punches him in the face with a glowing hand. The higher being falls like a sack of bricks.
"Right, I'm going to drop this one off at a nursing home, and then I'll return to marry Bruce. Only so the contact doesn't kill him, and I swear I'll only visit every once in a while until our year is up." Throwing- Merlin, holy shit- over his shoulder as if though he weighed nothing, Danny waves at Alfred and scurries away, vanishing into a green portal.
Alfred is left standing at the doorway, utterly flabbergasted. Distantly, he wonders if the hollowing wind is actually Martha laughing herself silly in the afterlife.
Carefully, he reaches up for his com, switching it on to the sound of his family's frantic bickering. They were all worried about him since he sent the alarm and were fighting about following policy or saving him.
"Master Bruce," He says faintly silencing the coms "Please come to have your suit fitted as soon as you can."
"What for?" His son asks, likely looking for a coded message, but Alfred doesn't have the mental capacity to make one.
"Your wedding, sir. It's tonight, courtesy of your mother."
The coms explode into chaos.
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ozzgin · 4 months
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Sorry to bother you, but the bodyguard post you did was just 🤤🥰😍 and I can't stop thinking about it day later
Have you ever seen Oshi no Ko? I'd love to see Bodyguard react to someone trying to do something similar as what happened to Ai.
Fans get wind their beloved idol might have feeling for her staff, so a crazed fan tracks down her private address. He plans to get revenge for "His idol cheating on him" but doesn't know there is a guard dog inside ready to bite any threat to his precious charge.
Sorry to keep ragging on about the topic, I just adore you work enough that it lives in my head rent free.
Happy holidays
-🌟
I sadly haven't seen Oshi no Ko, but your description sounds very interesting. Thank you for the idea! I've combined it with your previous suggestion, I think they work together really well. Happy Holidays to you, too! :)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (II)
Your new manager has sent you home for the holidays after persistent rumors surrounding you and your bodyguard. And, as luck would have it, the fan responsible for the accusations successfully sneaks his way in. Sadly for him, you’ve never left the watchful gaze of your loyal, mean dog.
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
TW: violence, threats, mentions of stalking
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
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"Enjoy your holidays!" 
The driver cheerfully bids you goodbye and speeds away, leaving you behind the imposing gate. You drag your luggage inside and nonchalantly toss it with an annoyed huff.
What now? You're all alone in a hollow mansion. 
Early December you begun receiving worrying letters from a fan, making wild claims about you and your bodyguard. Naturally, you laughed it off. Your bodyguard found them equally amusing. So much, that he'd ask you to read them out loud as you rode him. "I w-won't stand for it. You know we ha-ave something special going on, (Y/N)-chan." You barely managed to form coherent sentences, feverishly clinging to the large man underneath you. "You heard the guy. Better be on your best behavior", he'd add with a chuckle, wiping the drool from your mouth. 
The new manager, however, wasn't as relaxed about it. He couldn't risk tarnishing the reputation of his beloved cash cow, so he suggested you take a break from personal assistants until the rumors tone down. If you remained within your expensively secured house, you wouldn't need any guarding. So, he caringly prescribed a dose of homely isolation for the upcoming holidays. 
"Don't be so dramatic", he said, "Jesus spent 40 days in the desert by himself. And he didn't have your indoor cinema or jacuzzi bathtub."
"Yeah, but he had the Devil to tempt him. Where's my bad guy?" You whined as a retort. 
You let out another groan and throw yourself on the couch, fiddling with the remote. Kind of them to decorate everything for Christmas, you think as you eye the gigantic kitsch of a tree slapped in the middle of the living room. 
Fuck. What an absolute waste of time. All because of one crazy fan. You almost wish he'd show his stupid face so your bodyguard could pummel it to bits and crumbles. You wonder what he's doing by himself. Is he going to be assigned to another idol? Probably not, two weeks is too short of a time for anything. You check your phone.
Suddenly, the screen lights up. A text notification. 
"Bored?"
Heh. It's almost as if he can read your mind. You smile to yourself and type your response, stretching onto the sofa. Your little back and forth messaging goes on until you look up and notice the room has gotten darker. Already evening. You can hear your stomach growl, so you get up and drag your feet towards the kitchen, searching for takeaway fliers. If you're going to be under house arrest, the least you can afford is junk food. 
Once you place your decadent order, you hop onto the counter and idly dangle your legs in anticipation. Your favorite off-duty guard dog has abruptly told you he needs to go and is now offline. "Something came up". What could possibly require his immediate attention? A mistress? You giggle at the idea. In all your time spent together, you haven't seen him glance at a single woman. If he must, he will engage with other people using one-word replies, visibly uninterested. You never considered him much of a talker, but his behavior with anyone else, in comparison, is downright hostile. 
There's a rustling sound and you jolt. Was the food delivered already? It hasn't been that long. You jump off the marble countertop and freeze in place once you see the man standing in the doorway. His face is concealed with a medical mask and he's audibly panting, the hot air fogging up his glasses. You notice the knife in his hand.
"How rude of you to cheat on me so shamelessly, (Y/N) dear."
Huh? Your eyes widen in realization. Was this the crazed fan bombarding you with threatening letters? Your features twist in utter disgust, still transfixed on the weapon within his grip. 
This little shit. Not only does he break into your home, but he decides to intimidate you with a department store kitchen utensil. Is that all you're worth? Is that any way to greet one of the top idols in this country?
You angrily pull the nearby drawer open and grab a long, sharp blade. The man tenses up and steps forward, but you stop him in his tracks, throwing the item at his feet. He stares at you, bewildered. 
"It's a Yoshihiro Sashimi knife. More than your monthly income, most likely." You state as you leer down at him, grimace plastered on your face. "Pick it up like the animal you are."
He cannot move. Is this his beloved (Y/N)? Her pretty, innocent smile and sparkling eyes have been replaced by this hateful scowl. He feels like a cockroach about to be stepped on, a mere vermin invading her personal space. This can't be right. It's him that should be upset, he's the betrayed party. When has she gotten so...Ah. This must be the work of that bodyguard. He's always known. The way he looks at her, with a predatory glint as if marking his territory. He should've noticed earlier. Poor, sweet (Y/N), at the hands of a brute. Tears form in his eyes and he opens his mouth to speak up, but a burning blow assaults his back and everything goes black. 
Your bodyguard casually walks in and lifts the intruder up by the nape of his neck. 
"Are you okay? Did he touch you?"
You blush and wipe your eyelashes dramatically, releasing a gentle sob from your puckered lips.
"Touch? He almost killed me! I was so scared...I thought I was done for."
He frowns at your words.
"I'll take care of it."
You can feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach. As he drags the body out of the kitchen, you follow behind enthusiastically. 
"Do it in the living room!" You almost squeal.
"Are you sure? It will get messy. I'm not letting this one walk out." He warns you with a worried expression. 
"Yes, yes!" you nod, all bubbly. "Right here, next to the Christmas tree."
Once the gory spectacle is over, the bodyguard sprawls onto the sofa, exhausted. He exhales loudly and runs a hand through his hair. You are about to join him, when a thought crosses your mind. 
"Now that I think about it, how did you know I was about to be attacked? That was some really extraordinary timing."
Out of reflex, he palms his pocket to check if his phone is still within his possession. Thankfully he hasn't left it in plain sight. You squint suspiciously. 
"Are you spying on me or something?"
He remains quiet for a few moments and eventually lowers his head apologetically, avoiding eye contact.
"Forgive me, Miss."
When he glances up again, your small figure is looming over him.
"Wow, what a pervert you are." You push his chin up with your dainty fingers. "How will you make it up to me for such nasty habit~?"
"Is there anything you want me to do?"
"Good boy."
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luveline · 6 months
Note
hi miss jade <3 if it hasn’t been done already, could you possibly write poly!marauders with a depressed reader? maybe she’s having a particularly hard time lately and she’s trying to hide it from them but they notice she’s been really quiet recently. then one day while they’re all just sitting together, one of them looks over and sees a tear rolling down her cheek and they comfort her </3 if this isn’t something you’re up to writing i understand! thank you nonetheless lovely <3
thank u for ur request lovely!
modern au 
“No,” Remus is whispering, “that's the other actor.” 
James leans into his side. You've successfully crammed yourselves onto the three seater sofa, all four of you. You're on one arm, Sirius the other. If Sirius and James sit together during a movie they won't stop talking, and if you and Remus sit together you'll spend the entire movie telling each other what other movies the actors have been in. 
James and Remus seem to have found a loophole. Sirius tries uselessly to reach over their shoulders to touch you, but James blocks him by accident, head tilting back in a laugh. 
You aren't in the mood for movies. Not their fault, not anyone's, but a melancholy has its hooks in you, and you'd excuse yourself to spend time alone with it if it didn't immediately draw their attention. You're not sure you want to be alone, either. 
James reaches for your hand even as he speaks to Remus excitedly, “He's Ryan Gosling, right?” 
“Yeah, James,” —said with love— “that's Ryan Gosling.” 
You hold James' hand. It's a very real, very gentle tether, but eventually the noise in the room turns white. You lay your cheek on the sofa arm and watch the movie pass by in colours. Dusky orange, pink, blue rain. Your hard times recently have felt longer, deeper, and you've floundered in them helplessly. 
Though the boys couldn't make it worse, their devotion tends to hurt. You feel like you're letting them down whenever you can't fight your lethargy. Even now when you're together for a normal night, you're stuck under the weight of it. You could be playing with James’ hair the way he loves, or telling Remus something interesting about the movie. You could crawl across the two chatterboxes and ask Sirius what he did at work today while he draws shapes into the back of your hand. But you're not. And everything begins to feel worse. 
The TV flickers. The room hums. The tear that slides down your cheek is hot as the drag of a pin. 
You shift down into the arm to hide it as more follow. James pulls his hand away, and you assume he's just getting comfortable, but he puts it on your shoulder, the sofa whining as he leans in. “Hey…” he whispers, nearly too soft to hear. He must've been watching you. They've been doing that more and more lately. 
Your shoulders shake as the first sob brews. They aren't overly loud, you aren't wound tightly enough to really cry, you're just defeated. Tired and scared that this feeling is forever. 
The contented atmosphere in the room drains quicker than snapped fingers. “What's wrong?” Sirius asks. 
You curl away from James. You can't pretend you aren't crying and you don't really want to, but something about his touch feels raw. He comes closer, leaning into you, hand chasing around to your front where it rests over your heart. “It's okay,” he says soundly. “Oh, honey, it's okay.” 
James isn't as heavy with the pet names as the other two. When he does use them, they're genuine but said in high spirits. Almost like a joke, his ever-present humour shining through. He's warm and steady behind you, his lips brushing your ear as he hugs you to his chest. “It's okay,” he whispers, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. 
“Sorry.” 
Remus says your name unhappily. They know better than to converge on you, and James has always been good at comforting people. Maybe his solidness in both physicality and personality does him credit, but more likely it's his unending patience. He doesn't rush you into feeling better. He just stays right there at your side until you stop shaking. 
“Sorry,” you say again, voice in fractured layers, “I don't know…” 
“I know,” he says. “Let's sit up, okay? Sit up.”
Remus gives you a look with just enough heartbreak that when he holds out his hand, you raise yourself up, knowing James will take you by the waist and help you over his lap. You smush in between their legs as Remus wipes your face dry, and Sirius meets your eyes around his shoulder. It all works to lift the weight from your chest, not fully, but enough to breathe. 
“You don't have to explain.” 
“Just don't cry more,” Sirius begs. He really hates tears, doesn't know what to do with them. “You're too lovely for tears.” 
“Unless you need to,” James says. 
“Right,” Sirius agrees through a wince. 
“She's okay,” Remus says, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles, “hmm? You're alright.” 
He isn't pressuring you into pretending things are better than they are, he's encouraging, and he knows as you know that you're not very well, but you'll manage in the end. You sink back into James arms and smile at them weakly. 
“I'm okay. I just wanted James to rub my stomach, that's all.” 
“Theatrics in the name of attention,” Sirius says proudly. “As you should.” 
James wraps his arms around your front, giving your abdomen a squeeze as he leans down to say, “I'll rub your stomach all night if you want me to,” with a warmth so tender it escapes words. 
Remus drops back into Sirius rather aggressively. “Make haste.” 
“Make haste?” Sirius presses his nose into Remus’ curls, his voice dripping with a feigned contempt, “You make haste, you sick freak.” And then he raises his hand to cover Remus' stomach in mirror of James’ touch. 
You breathe out long and slow, eyes closing of their own accord. “I'm not going to sleep, okay? I'm just tired.” 
James gets comfortable underneath you. “Do what you want, babe. I'm here for the night. If I need to pee I'll just hoist you into Moony's lap for a bit.” 
“I can fit two, thanks,” Sirius interjects. 
“Fine. I'll hoist you into his lap. Though I've no clue why you'd want to spend any time with that bossy bastard.” 
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ellemj · 5 months
Text
Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 10 (FINAL PART)
Bucky Barnes x Reader
*Read parts 1-9 first for the full effect!*
Summary: Everything is out in the open between you and Bucky now, but there are two rules for your new secret relationship.
Warnings: unprotected sex, teasing, possessive!Bucky (hehehe), maybe fluff (?), profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 2.2k
Author's Note: We've finally reached the end. I think I'll miss this version of Bucky and reader but I'm pretty excited about the work that I'm planning on putting out here next. Hopefully everyone's okay with the conclusion of this, I didn't want to have anyone riding off into the sunset or anything, but I also didn't want to have a horribly sad ending, so this felt right. You guys should totally let me know in the comments what kind of things you'd like to see from me soon! I don't know if I'll take specific requests anytime soon, but I'd love to at least find out what might get you all excited. Thanks for the umpteenth time to @littlemiss-yeehaw for being the best cheerleader and warnings-writer out there. She also draws some unbelievable shots of Bucky based on scenes in these fics.
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In the shower, on the hotel bed, in the chair by the window, hell, even on the floor when the two of you rolled off of the bed in the heat of the moment. You’d successfully christened every surface of your hotel room before the clock ever struck midnight. You hadn’t meant to go at it like horny teenagers who found themselves home alone for the first time, but that’s what happened. It’s like you were both thinking about how this may not continue once you get back to the compound tomorrow morning, so you fit as much as you could all in one night.
            Now, you’re laying side by side in bed. Your most recent tryst involved you on your hands and knees with Bucky doing all of the right things behind you, and it thoroughly winded you both. You listen as your collective breaths fill the air, the two of you each coming down from your post-orgasmic highs.
            “Do you think Dr. Raynor will figure this out?” You ask softly, raising a hand and wiping a bit of sweat from your brow. Bucky laughs and turns his head to look at you. He still can’t get past how pretty you look after doing such dirty, animalistic things with him. Even without the super soldier serum decreasing his refractory period to mere minutes, he thinks he’d be recovered and ready for round five just from looking at you like this.
            “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
            “It’s on my mind, yeah.” You admit. You’re probably more worried about it than you should be, but deep down, Bucky’s worried too.
            “So, how do you want to handle it?” Bucky asks, fully rolling onto his side to face you.
            “Maybe we just wait and see what she has to say after observing tonight’s mission and then go from there. I don’t want to say anything first and give her anything to use against us.” He’s listening to your words, honestly, he is. He doesn’t think he could ever miss a word you say. But he can’t stop himself from reaching over and running his fingertips along your flushed cheek. You turn to look at him and he lets his fingers ghost over your lips and down the column of your throat until he reaches the notch between your collarbones. His eyes linger there for a moment. Something’s missing.
            “You never gave me my dog tags back.” He whispers. You’re not wearing them, and neither is he. So, where are they?
            “Yeah, I wasn’t sure when to give them back.”
            “Bullshit, you wanted to keep them.” Bucky teases. You push his hand away from your neck at the accusation, but can’t stop the smile that’s creeping over your features. Fuck, he’s so into you. He closes the distance between the two of you and places his body carefully over yours under the covers, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Even just kissing you sets off fireworks inside of him.
            “They’re sitting on my nightstand, back in the compound.” You tell him, hoping it doesn’t make you sound too obsessed. You had planned to give them back all week, but avoiding him made that a little difficult, so instead you left them sitting beside your bed. It was sort of comforting to see his name every night before you fell asleep, and every morning when you woke up.
            “Keep them.” He insists, pressing another kiss to your soft, soft lips. You get lost in the moment, focusing on the feeling of his tongue working against yours, his scent enveloping you in the most consuming way, and his weight keeping you pinned to the mattress. You could stay like this forever.
            This, of course, is when Bucky’s phone would ring. He groans in annoyance as he breaks the kiss and touches his forehead to yours, looking down into your eyes.
            “Tell me not to answer it.” He pleads. You purse your lips, knowing it’s probably someone from the team calling with some kind of update or new order. Bucky groans again before rolling off of you and snatching his phone off of the bedside table. He answers it and puts it on speaker, confirming that it’s someone from the team.
            “Hey, sorry to call so late. The threat has been neutralized so you guys can head back now and get some sleep, we’ll debrief in the morning.” Sam sounds tired but calm, so it must have been more of a nuisance situation than a major threat. Bucky closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with his vibranium hand.
            “Sounds good, we’ll be back soon.” He grumbles. You can tell he’s annoyed that you won’t be staying the night here. When he hangs up the call, he lets out a deep sigh before sitting up on the side of the bed, with the covers gathering around his waist. Without thinking, you crawl up behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him from behind. He stiffens as if he didn’t expect your touch, but that just makes you lean into him more, resting your chin on his shoulder. You feel him slowly relax and having that effect on him warms you to the center of your being
            “We’re going to go home, get some rest, and debrief in the morning like this was any other mission.” You say, attempting to be reassuring.
            “That’s what you want? To pretend like this was any other mission?” He questions, running his hands over where your arms are wrapped around his abs.
            “I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant we don’t have to run in and tell everyone that something might be going on between us.”
            “Might?” He chuckles. You feel his abs shake beneath your hands as the melodious sound leaves his lips. You never heard him laugh much before, and you didn’t expect to like it as much as you do.
            “Hey, I told you that I fell for you, and you said fuck, I’m cumming. How am I supposed to know you feel the same way?” You tease, letting go of him and laying back on the bed, drawing the covers up over your naked body. He turns a bit to face you and starts pulling the covers away from you slowly.
            “Y/n…” He says your name with so much genuine feeling that it sends tingles throughout your body. Has he always said your name like that and you just never noticed before? Yes. “I made you wear my dog tags while I fucked you.” What the hell does that have to do with what you just said? He can see the confusion on your face and it brings a smile to his. He slides back under the covers next to you and begins peppering kisses across your shoulder and collarbone.
            “Bucky…” Fuck, if you start saying his name again there’s no way either of you will make it back to the compound tonight. He quickly makes his way up to your face, attaching his lips to yours for a moment and then tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. It’s the nicest way anyone has ever shut you up.
            “I wanted to be able to pretend like you were mine. I fell way before you did.” He whispers against your lips. Holy shit. He feels the same way. Bucky Barnes feels the same way about you as you feel about him.
            You know that you have orders to head back to the compound, and neither of you are the type to disobey orders from above, but how are you supposed to pack up and head out after finding out that you have feelings for each other? You can’t stand the thought of traveling back to the compound tonight knowing that you’ll have to put on a show and pretend like nothing happened here. So, why not delay a bit and take what you want one more time?
            That very rational thinking is what inspires you to slide your hand between the two of you and wrap your fist around Bucky’s already-hardening cock. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your small, soft hand wrapping tightly around him, and he wonders how he went so long without having you this way. You’ve been right across the hall from him all of this time. You’ve been going on missions with him for the last two months, giving each other shit nearly every waking moment, and completely missing what had been there the whole time. Love. He won’t say it out loud yet, he doesn’t want to scare you off, but that’s what it is. He’s sure of it. He loves you. He may not say it but he can damn well express it.
            That’s how Bucky finds himself, for the fifth time tonight, guiding the tip of his cock inside of your perfect cunt. He’s done this enough times now that he knows as soon as he bottoms out inside of you, you’ll tense up and scrunch your eyes closed, trying your hardest to adjust to his size. He watches as you do just that, and then he feels your entire body relax beneath him and he knows you’re ready. He pulls one of your legs up and over his hip as he begins fucking you into the mattress. When your eyes flutter open to meet his, he has to go completely still inside you so he won’t cum right then and there. You laugh to yourself. You know what eye contact does to him and you love it.
            “What’s the matter, James? Keep going.” You taunt, wiggling your hips and forcing his cock to slide into you another inch. He’s only halfway inside of you. He breathes out a slow, calming breath before leaning down and nuzzling his face into your neck, letting his cock sink into you slower than it ever has before.
            “You like rushing me, don’t you?” He asks, giving your cunt gentle thrusts. A soft hum leaves your lips at the pleasure that’s beginning to build in your lower stomach. You’re so focused on the feeling that you don’t even acknowledge his question. “Don’t rush me tonight.” He buries himself to the hilt before stilling once more, drawing a whine from your lips. “We’re making love, not fucking, sweetheart.”
---
            A few hours later that same morning, a very uneventful debrief took place in the conference room at the compound. You and Bucky turned in your mission reports, leaving out the details of what happened in the hotel room, and then you were dismissed to have a few hours of freedom before having to meet with Dr. Raynor.
            Everyone probably assumed that the two of you went off to your respective rooms upstairs, but it took little convincing to get Bucky to sneak over into yours. When he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the first thing he noticed was his dog tags, right where you said they were.
You kick your shoes off by the door and walk over to sit on one of the small gray chairs that you have off to the side of the room, feeling surprisingly nervous that Bucky Barnes is seeing your room for the first time. Nervous. After everything the two of you have done this week? You’re ridiculous. You watch him as he crosses the room and scoops the dog tags off of your nightstand. He stares at them in his palm for a moment, and for a second you worry that he might pocket them. However, when he turns to you with a soft smile and a mischievous glint in his eye, your fears are assuaged.
“Do you have any rules? For this thing that we’ve got going on?” Bucky asks, taking the free chair across from you and setting the dog tags flat on the coffee table that separates the two of you. You tilt your head to the side, studying him closely. You see what he’s doing. The first night, while under the influence of that chemical, you gave him one rule: no kissing. He returned with his own rule: wear his dog tags while he fucks you.
“I have one. We keep this a secret, just between us, for as long as we can.” You respond, letting your eyes trail over his physique. He’s sitting in your chair the same way he sat in the chair in the hotel room last night. The man knows how to demand attention without saying a damn word. You watch as his licks his bottom lip and then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of him.
“Fine. It’s a secret.” He agrees, his gaze briefly lingering on your neck. “But I have one rule too.” He reaches out with his flesh hand and begins sliding the dog tags across the table toward you. “You’ll never take these off again.”
BONUS CHAPTER
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1K notes · View notes
moon-rivr · 5 months
Note
crazy scientist!miguel smut and you’re his experiment 👀
(i mixed the request with ‘stressed out miguel accidentally overdosed himself with the spider injection thing and calls for spider readers help.’ so i hope you both don’t mind :p)
greatest accomplishment
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pairing: miguel o’hara x spider!fem reader
contents: substance abuse (?), smut, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, unprotected p in v, ice play, mirror sex, spanking, biting, web bondage, male masturbation, fingering (sorry if i missed anything 🫣)
author’s note: thank you for being so patient, i hope you enjoy <33
word count: 3.9K+
You were what Miguel considered his greatest achievement and his greatest failure. during his time at Alchemax, he'd worked on several human trials with few of them showing any signs of success. At most, he managed to regenerate lost limbs but the achievement still felt little to what he believed he could do. that was, until you showed up at Alchemax with glossy eyes and anticipation.
You had been used as a weapon in private government affairs until eventually the operation shut down. While everybody involved had some kind of direction in their life, you didn't know that anything existed beyond fighting or living to serve the purpose of someone else. You'd signed up for the human trials that Alchemax was offering, being aware of all the stakes at hand, in hopes of being able to lead a normal life.
"So, you basically have spider-like abilities that are in the control of someone else and you want me to change your DNA?" Miguel asked, pushing his glasses back up as he looked up at you from the clipboard. "Well, I know that ai can't really get rid of the powers, but I was hoping that maybe you could help make them my own. because even as we're sitting here, I still feel that urge to need to protect," you responded, hoping that he'd be a little sympathetic towards your situation.
While Miguel didn't feel anything towards your situation, he did feel a thrill of doing something more than regenerating lost limbs. He didn't feel the slightest bit of guilt towards using you to fulfill his personal desires. "Alright, well I can't really promise that the operation's going to be successful. Are you okay with those odds?" He inquired before the two of you got started, calling in a nurse to take your vitals and do your blood work. "Sounds good."
The operation had gone successfully, much to Miguel’s disbelief and he felt that thrill rushing towards him again. The excitement of being a geneticist once more. You enveloped your arms around him, your superhuman strength threatening to pop his eyes out of the sockets.
"Thank you," you whispered, though you felt the words couldn't convey how grateful you were at the opportunity Miguel had given you. He tapped on your arm, forcing you to let him go before he fixed up his jacket. "Thank you," he muttered after you left, completely fascinated as he looked through your file.
A couple of years had passed when you got a phone call from a strange number, excitement coursing through your veins as you answered. Though you'd had the desire to live out a civilian life, a part of you would always long for being able to use your abilities. "Hello?" You asked, hearing someone's breath on the other side. "It's Miguel, I'm not too sure if you remember me. Can you meet me at my place? I'll send you the details," he spoke quickly before he hung up, leaving you confused as you looked down at your phone.
You opened the door to miguel's penthouse, noticing that the curtains were all pulled to darken up the room. You sat down on the couch, deciding to wait for him to come out to talk. "Would you like a glass of water?" A yellow hued hologram woman appeared in front of you, pushing her heart shaped glasses up her nose. "No, but thank you," you responded, watching her as she faded away. You looked up when Miguel came into view, sweatpants hanging low on his waist.
"Sorry, I know you wanted to escape fighting when you came to see me last time but I'm starting up this society for spider people," he spoke up, sitting on the couch next to you. "Spider people? Does that include you?" You inquired, looking over at him as you noticed how much he changed throughout the years. He'd bulked up immensely, his biceps almost the size of your head and his eyes almost had a red hue to it. "It does, but that's not the point here. I'm asking if you want to help me," he responded, keeping eye contact with you.
You'd felt immensely grateful towards Miguel for allowing you to take control of your life once more so you'd agreed on joining him. Despite the fact that Miguel seemed to easily irritated, he helped you out in using your abilities for good this time around. While you were skilled at harnessing your abilities, you'd only used them to inflict pain on others. He helped you establish a good workout routine without pushing you too hard past your limitations.
The days had started to blend together for Miguel, losing all concept of time. Anomaly reports hadn't stopped coming in and spiders were currently working on overtime to be able to control the damage. His eyes were bloodshot as he looked at the monitors, dark circles under his eyes with only coffee to fuel his body. He grabbed his mug from the table, filling it up with some coffee he'd made three days ago? Maybe four. The cold coffee provided no taste as he sipped it, but it did provide him with the caffeine rush he needed.
His eyes drifted over to the collection of empty vials he had on the corner of his desk, having used most of the drug he'd created throughout this week. He deactivated the shoulder part of his suit, the green liquid providing him with the strength that he needed to continue staying up. His eyes strained as he returned his attention back to the monitor, the brightness hurting his dry eyes.
As the anomaly reports started to die down, he overheard through some of the speakers at the society about what the spiders were planning to do after work. He turned on the cameras, instantly spotting you talking to one of the spider-women and decided to listen in on the conversation. He felt his right eye start to twitch and his fist clench up as he heard you mention going out on a date tonight, immediately turning off the camera.
He grabbed the monitor like he wanted to crucify it for your actions, tossing it on the ground as he stomped on it. "You know, half our budget goes to replacing shit you break. Soon enough, we'll just be working with broken computers," LYLA spoke up, appearing in front of him as she folded her arms. "Like we'll ever go bankrupt," he mumbled, picking up the scraps of the monitor. "What's got you all pissed off now?"
Miguel ignored LYLA, eyeing the last bit of the serum that he had left. He was starting to feel his body want to submit to humanly desires such as sleeping and eating, but he genuinely believed that he didn't have any time to spare towards those things. He grabbed the last vial and headed toward the chemical lab at HQ, looking over what he could mix it with. He wanted to make the mixture more potent, something that would keep him up and keep him strong for a long time.
He mixed a couple of chemicals that looked like they would work, the mixture turning a bright purple. Normally, he would've been more cautious about mixing things he wasn't sure of but he felt like a junkie desperate to have his next fix. He deactivated the shoulder part of his suit once more, injecting himself with the strange liquid. He was expecting to feel that instant bit of relief like he did with the original serum, but he didn't feel like it did anything. Miguel let out a loud scream, pissed off at himself for messing up the mixture so much that it didn't have any effect.
A couple minutes later passed by when he felt sweat dribbling on his forehead though the temperature in the room had seemed to drop a couple degrees. He gripped the corner of the table as he coughed, his body rejecting the modified version of the serum. His head began pounding and suddenly, everything was too bright and everything was too loud. He hastily opened up a portal to his house, unwilling to stay at HQ where anybody would just come in and find him in that state.
He laid down on the ground as he stepped out of the portal, bile building up in the back of his throat. He brought his hand closer to his face, the limb feeling like deadweight as he scrolled through his watch. He texted you to meet him at his house urgently, his text morphing into one word. He knew that you were out on your date even in his drug-infused state, but he wanted you to pick him instead of your stupid date. He told himself that allowing you to work on the antidote would provide you with experience your college wouldn't give you, but he just wanted your company.
Miguel’s lids were starting to shut when you arrived at his house and you shook him awake, helping him up to his feet. "Stay awake for me, please," you spoke softly, seeing the pained expression on his face as you helped him to the couch. He pointed to a couple empty flasks with labels on them and you rushed to get them so you'd have an idea of what you needed for the antidote. "I'll lead you the lab," his speech slurred as he talked and you had to offer him some kind of support as you walked with him.
"What are you doing here, anyways? Thought you had a date," he mumbled, his brows furrowed as he unlocked the door. "He didn't show up," you simply said, walking with him inside as you looked over at the multiple shelves filled with chemicals. Truth was, you'd cancelled on the date because you didn't think it would make you happy. You weren't sure when, but in the midst of all the gratitude you felt towards Miguel, you'd started to catch some feelings for him. He was easy to like despite his attitude, he was protective of those he cared about and would do anything for them.
"You could've called one of the more experienced spiders for this, so why'd you call me?" You inquired as you read over the labels on the flasks. "I wanted you to be here. Plus, i figured you'd get some hands on experience," he responded, his speech still coming up garbled. You mixed up a concoction of chemicals, whispering a silent prayer that it would work as the colors began to blend together.
You injected the drug into miguel's shoulder, still exposed from the last batch he'd taken as you watched intently for any more adverse reactions. You watched as his body slumped with relief, the color returning back to his face as his eyes opened. "Thank you," he muttered, standing up from his chair. You nodded, picking up your jacket as you got ready to leave. "Don't go yet, I still have some ways to express my gratitude towards you."
You were unsure of what he meant by that but when you turned around, his lips were already on yours. "Tell me you don't want this and I'll drop it. We can go back to just being coworkers," he mumbled, pulling back slightly to give you enough space to leave if you wanted to. You stayed in your place, wrapping your arms around his neck as you returned the hasty kisses he was giving you. His lips enveloped yours in a thirsty way, almost like he needed this to live. It morphed into a clash of teeth and tongue as he explored every inch of your mouth, letting out a soft moan at the taste.
He picked you up, placing you on one the lab tables before restricting all movement with his webs. Though he knew that you could easily break through them, he found himself needing to be in control of the situation. He glanced over at the mini-fridge in the corner of the room, getting a bucket of ice before placing it to the side. His talons unsheathed and in one swift motion, he'd ripped the dress you were wearing in half. The tattered pieces scattered to the ground, leaving you in just your lingerie at his mercy.
He held one of the ice cubes between his front teeth, dragging it across your skin as he made his way down from your neck. He loved seeing the way your body fidgeted under the cold substance, his tongue lapping up the small water droplets. Your nipples hardened as he rubbed the ice cube on them, his tongue swirling against your areola. You whined at him to keep going but he pulled back, stopping his movements. You were nervous that you'd scared him off but he tore your panties off, shoving them in your mouth.
"Don't think for a second that this is for you. It's all for me, understood?" He told you, his hand resting on your thigh as he spoke. You nodded rapidly, arousal leaking to the lab table as you waited for his next movements. He brought the ice cube back to your breasts, the difference in temperature between his tongue and ice cube having you shiver. When the cube melted, he picked up another one and dragged it across to your pussy, swirling the cube on your clit. Your hips bucked up to get more of the sensation but your body couldn't help but want to squirm away at how good it felt.
The ice cube melted, the water droplets combining with your slick as it made a mess on the table. His tongue began to collect the slick on your folds, his eyes intently on yours. The small muffled whimpers that you were letting out spurred him to keep going, his tongue thrusting inside your pussy while your walls clenched around it. He let out a small moan as you released more slick, the taste of you threatening to take him over the edge. His fingers took place instead of his mouth as he kissed on your thigh, sucking on the skin to leave his mark behind.
You let out a muffled yelp as he bit down, the sting from his fangs overwhelming your senses. You couldn't help the arousal that leaked out of you at the sensation, the pain mixing in with the pleasure of having his fingers stretching you out. He moved his fingers in a scissoring action to stretch out your walls, his mouth still kissing your thigh. You heard some moaning coming from Miguel, looking down to see that his hand was tightly wrapped around his cock while precum leaked onto his palm.
Just the fact that he found getting you off as a turn on made your mind grow hazy, your toes curling as his mouth circled over your clit. His tongue swirled against it, his fingers curled up to hit your g-spot. He let out another moan, the vibration hitting your clit directly and you couldn't help but clench around him even more. His fingers were hardly moving with how hard you were gripping them, arousal coating them knuckle deep as his teeth gently pulled on your clit.
He looked up at you, desperation evident in his eyes despite the dominant presence he was putting on and your orgasm approached you quickly. You moaned into the cloth, the sound coming out muffled as your release coated his fingers completely. He took them out, his mouth closing around his fingers while he sucked them off. You looked down at his cock, the tip angry red as it dripped precum onto the glass floor of the lab.
Your head was tilted to the side, immediately at eye level with his cock while he reached down to take out the makeshift gag. You opened up your mouth, the tip of his cock inside of your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it. You collected the precum leaking out as he began to thrust his hips, using your mouth at his disposal. "Who would've known you liked to be treated like such a slut? Pinche puta," he spoke, his voice coming out with a small groan as your eyes watered when he pushed further inside of you.
Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take the length and girth of his cock but you felt tears forming at your waterline from the intrusion. His hips snapped forward, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat and you couldn't help but gag as your nose hit his pubic bone. "You're all good, don't worry. You're taking it so well. Esa boquita esta haciendo tan buen trabajo," he mumbled, feeling your tongue running down the sides of his cock. (that mouth is doing such a good job)
Your tongue traced the two veins running down the side of his cock, a small shiver running through Miguel’s body as he felt the sensations hitting him all at once. He grabbed the back of your head, thrusting into your mouth repeatedly as he took out the amounts of stress that had piling up out. The tip of his cock kept hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, your tongue brushing up against it with every thrust. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, a clear sign that his orgasm was approaching him rather quickly. The salty substance went down your throat in his final thrust, his eyes locked directly on yours as his chest heaved.
His talons worked on releasing you from the webs but before you had the chance to move, he picked you up and led you to the bathroom. You were bent over the counter, his cock slightly pressing up against your folds before he pushed it in one swift thrust. Your walls clenched up against his cock instinctively and he took a couple seconds to let himself bask in the feeling of you before he started moving.
He pressed your face against the mirror as he forced you to look at yourself while his cock stretched out your cunt, your knuckles turning ghost white from how hard you were gripping the counter. Your breath fogged up the mirror as he kept pushing inside of you, his cock reaching places that no one had ever had. His hands came to rest on your hips as he eased you in and out before one of them squeezed your ass. You yelped as you felt his hand strike your ass, the pain morphing into pleasure as he rubbed at the reddening skin.
You stood on your tippy toes as you tried to remain upright, your hands coming to grip his arms. "Look at what he's missing out on, then again, I don't think he could please you the same way I do," he murmured against your skin, bringing you up right as his mouth closed around the sensitive skin on your neck. He bit down, not hard enough for his fangs to release any of the venom but just hard enough to protrude your skin a bit. Your nails started digging into his skin as you felt him shift the angle a bit, his cock hitting you in all the right places.
One of his hands was on your breasts, tugging at the nipple as the other one played with your clit. He kept his gaze with you on the mirror, enjoying the way you squirmed underneath him and the way you couldn't keep eye contact for too long. Your pussy was gushing around his cock, allowing him to focus on giving you an angle that would provide pleasure, that would make you cum all over him. His fingers on your clit and as his mouth bit down on your shoulder, and you couldn't help the orgasm that washed out of you.
Your release formed a creamy ring at the base of his cock as he pushed deep into you, his thrusts becoming more sporadic and his moans becoming incoherent babbles. "Taking me so good, mami," he murmured, whispering other sweet nothings about how good your cunt was to him. He pulled out of you just in time, his cum dropping on the globes of your ass. He reached over, grabbing a piece of toilet paper to clean you off.
As he pulled his cock out of you, he couldn't help but look at you with a concerned expression. "I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?" He asked, taking note of your tear-stained cheeks and the bite marks all over you. "No, no. Don't worry about it," you responded, shooing him away so you could do your business. Truth be told, you'd never experimented having rough sex before but the idea of someone having an animalistic-like need towards you always enticed you.
You finished up in the bathroom, expecting to find Miguel ready for round two but he'd left the lab. You cleaned your slick off the table with a piece of toilet paper before heading up to the bedroom to check up on him. You opened the door, hearing his snores pouring over from the bed. His exhaustion had finally caught up to him and he had relaxed enough that sleep came easy to him. You left his house after getting dressed, not thinking too much about the encounter with him.
The day that you showed up at the office, you heard rumors circulating around that Miguel was more approachable to others. Though the marks he'd left on your skin had faded away due to your healing powers, the mark he left on you still lingered. You figured that he'd just used you for some stress relief so you didn't pursue anything with him. You walked to your desk, finding a cup of coffee with a note from Miguel sitting there but you refused to let yourself think about it too much.
A couple of days passed by and miguel continued to leave coffee cups before you showed up at work, leaving them with small notes. You figured he was thankful for the antidote so you pushed away the thoughts that made you a bit delusional, focusing on your work. You couldn't help but notice that even though he'd been more gentle with you, he'd gone back to his stoic personality with everyone else.
"If you didn't have any feelings for me, you could've just said so instead of ghosting me," he finally approached you one day, staring down at you coldly. "Excuse me?" You inquired, your brows contorted into an expression of confusion. "I thought that it was obvious that I liked you," he muttered and your eyes widened a bit. "No, I thought you were just thankful," you muttered, watching as he walked closer to you.
"I should've been more obvious given how clueless you are, but I'm telling you straight up that I like you," he spoke up, holding your hands in his. “Sorry I didn't take the hints you gave me," you responded, tilting your head to give him a small kiss on the lips. The kiss was nothing like last time, taking the time to enjoy each others presence rather than having the clash of tongues element to it. He walked with you to his office and just having you around as he looked at the monitors kept him from getting too stressed.
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dannyphantom-zero · 3 months
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Doctor Danny: First official chapter
The busy hospital was on its last leg. Nurses and interns were scattered, running around like mice.
Sounds of trauma care patients and emergency care patients alarms were constantly ringing.
In the midst of it all, one calm collected doctor cared tenderly for each patient.
He, was Danny Fenton, who used to be known for having two crazy ghost enthusiasts for parents. He still loved his parents despite how hard it was growing up as half ghost.
Jazz had told them a long time ago and they had ignored it for the most part. Like that side of him didn't exist.
It had hurt at the time but Danny had managed to move past it. After successfully securing his position as ghost king (on accident) he put his newfound authority to good use making the ghosts swear a vow to behave.
A ghost vow is a big deal, which is why Danny swore a vow in return acknowledging them, if ever a ghost were in danger he would help them.
After the lack of ghost attacks Danny found he had next to nothing to do. His only hobby outside of playing video games had been ghost fighting. He hadn't realized how used to it he had gotten.
Danny hadn't even picked the college he wanted to go to yet.
Danny approached the Nasty Burger, his last refuge.
That's when he noticed a man who seemed a little out of it. The man stumbled making Danny wonder if he was drunk.
Danny turned to go inside when the man collapsed. Danny rushed over to the man and rolled him on his back. He checked for a pulse but couldn't find one.
Of course he wasn't exactly medically trained.
Danny dialed nine-one-one and started to perform CPR as best he could.
He explained to the operator clearly the situation and the ambulance came in no time.
Later that night Danny was processing the events in his head and instead of feeling scared or nervous he felt excited.
He was thrilled to have something to get his blood pumping again. Which is why he applied for med school. He studied hard, using all the time he had to memorize all the medical information that he could.
After graduation he interned at Amity Parks local hospital before moving up his position to resident.
Only a week after getting his new position he was forced to leave the hospital. It was closing because of a lack of funding.
"Please sir! What about the staff or the patients?"
The head of the medical board shook his head.
"Dr. Fenton, this hospital runs on little to nothing to begin with, we are lucky to have even made it this far. The patients will be transfered and the staff, relocated"
Danny furrowed his brows in concern.
"Don't worry Dr. Fenton, your quite literally the best we've seen walk these halls, your sure to get a good recommendation"
Danny clenched his fist.
"What are my options?" He asked.
The board looked at his sheet, flipping several until he found the right one on his clipboard.
"You said you wanted to work at a busy hospital right?"
Danny nodded yes.
"There aren't too many around here, the busiest hospital I can think of belongs to a crime ridden city a bit far  from here." He said.
"Gotham City"
Danny's breath hitched. He had heard about Gotham before. It was notorious for its villains.
Despite that, it was alluring.
"There! Send me to Gothams hospital!" He said suddenly and eagerly.
"Okay, if you say so. Do us all a favor and survive alright"
Danny laughed, "sure, I'll do my best. No promises though"
Just like that Danny packed up moved to Gotham.
He had little time to research Gotham before hand but he had heard several mutters in passing of a place called Crime Alley, a strange nickname for sure.
Danny was sure that this place would either be completely clean due to police intervention or incredibly overrun.
Danny signed a lease at the Shirley Apartments.
"Are you sure about this young man" the desk lady asked him.
He smiled kindly.
"Yes I am, I've heard the rumors and have weighed the risk. In the end it might be helpful to know just how my patients love to receive the injuries they do"
The lady sighed.
"That's right, you said your a doctor. Be careful out there, any talent in Gotham is either warped by a villain or destroyed"
Danny was a little startled by the warning, apparently there was even more to Gotham than he knew.
"I'm sorry I forgot to ask for your name"
"Didn't give one, in Gotham it's best to remain anonymous"
Danny blinked a little surprised.
"It's that dangerous, well I'll take your word for it then, thank you miss" he said as he took the key from her.
He had been able to store the old car his dad had given to him in a locked garage. He wasn't sure how well it would hold up but there was only so much he could do against humans.
Ghost powers had little, of any, effect on humans when it came to offense. Defensively they were pretty great to have.
He had only brought five boxes with him, no furniture. Back in Amity he had been busy studying and had brushed aside buying furniture.
Unfortunately that meant he had no bed.
Danny was glad to have found a beaten up wardrobe. It was missing it's doors and was leaning to the side, even so Danny was able to fix it and hang his clothes up in it.
He grabbed one of the boxes and smiled warmly when he saw a Fenton Emergency pack inside.
His mom must've stuffed it there when he was looking, lucky for him it had a sleeping bag.
An air mattress would've been nice too, but it's the thought that counts.
Danny safely stored his two favorite pictures. One of him with his family and one with his friends.
They were hidden just in case someone decided to break in, not that there would be much to find anyway but it never hurt to be careful.
Danny went to sleep soon after despite the sounds of the city.
Danny woke up feeling refreshed. He grabbed his bags and hopped in his car.
Danny hadn't realized how busy Gothams hospital actually was. Danny pulled into Gotham General and as soon as he was in his scrubs and coat he was dragged into the frey.
"We need a doctor over here!" Someone called just as Danny had finished with a patient.
Despite having to run around all day Danny wasn't tired, his ghost half supplied him energy after his human side ran dry.
All in all Danny first day on the job was hectic and he had worked for fourteen hours.
Once he was back in his apartment Danny set up a table that he had pre ordered online.
Then he got to work. According to his knowledge, most of his patients had suffered from some kind of attack or other.
Most of the heavy hitters were villains named Joker, Penguin and two face.
The riddler was taken care of, Poison Ivy had been rehabilitated and Harley Quinn had broken free from Jokers choke hold on her.
There was also the less obvious villains, like the business man lex Luther.
Lex Luther was shady at best, while no one could get hard evidence on him most people knew to be wary.
But just being informed didn't stop them from falling into his traps.
Lately Bruce had done official business with Lex Luther, which made him a suspicious person whom Danny had decided to keep tabs on, he was wary of the rich and for good reasons.
The cork board above Danny table has a litter of documents and pictured pined by red string. The players who were out of the game were crossed off.
Then there were the vigilantes. A few of them had been known to be rough, a necessary violence.
Still they seemed to have little awareness of what their little battles did to other people. Because many people came in for minor injuries due to being caught in the crossfire.
Which meant Danny had to find a way to keep everybody in line so patients would decrease in number. Danny let himself sleep for four hours before returning to the hospital.
"Oh my gosh, Doctor Fenton is still here" one nurse whispered. It had been a full day and half, Danny was running on his ghost half that seemed to keep replenishing itself due to the toxic air of Gotham. A positive side effect.
"How does he never get tired?"
"Maybe he's superhuman" one girl cracked. They noticed as he rushed by them to get to another patient.
"He's quite handsome too" one said wistfully, "but who wants a husband that works all the time"
Danny noticed the next patient seemed tense and he kept screaming for his daughter.
Danny whispered in the man's ear and put a hand on his forehead. He had used a ghost technique he learned from Nocturne and the man calmed down.
The other doctors were impressed as they worked to care for the man's injuries.
Finally the head of the unit noticed Danny and after reviewing his chart had forced him to go home.
"I don't feel fatigued at all sir, I promise I am not compromised. I can care for the patients"
The head wasn't having any of it.
"Above all your health is just as important as the patients we care for. For them to get healthy, you have to be healthy. Go home Dr.Fenton, you can come back after you get at least ten hours of sleep."
Danny wanted to argue but he knew the head was right.
"Yes sir" he said before changing into civilian clothes and leaving the hospital.
Now that he was out of a hospital setting things like hunger started to appear.
Maybe he had been to focused to notice how hungry he had been.
Danny blearily noticed a fast food place. His instincts told him the food would be greasy and way too unhealthy.
Mmm, comfort food.
The nostalgia fought with his doctoral instincts and won. All Danny wanted was to sit in a booth and eat some greasy food.
Danny ordered the double cheeseburger with bacon with a side of ten pieces chicken nuggets and large order of fries.
Waiting, even for five minutes, was starting to make Danny ravenous. As soon as he got his food he sat down and started gorging himself.
It was pretty good food for a little fast food place in the world's worst city.
Danny liked the tenderness and crispiness of the burger, the cheese was melted just right too.
Danny dipped his nuggets in sweet n' sour sauce while fighting the urge to kick his legs like a happy little kid.
As Danny left the restraint he saw an alert on his phone for a villain attack and rushed to the scene.
To his satisfaction the culprits were already being hauled away in police custody. They were just small fries, not of them appeared connected to a big player, so Danny was free to shut them out of his mind.
Which is exactly what he did. Danny drove back to his apartment and let out a sigh of relief.
That's when he noticed his door was slightly ajar.
His guard was up immediately. Danny stepped inside cautiously. He was relieved when everything appeared untouched but the scare had sent him a trip to get stronger locks.
On his way back to his car from the store he heard sound of a glass bottle breaking in a nearby alley. It was small alley, from what Danny could tell it was also a dead end alley.
Taking a risk Danny stepped in and chills went down his spine when he heard labored breathing.
Danny rushed over and froze at what he saw.
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feelinmatcha · 2 months
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❛ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐎𝐊𝐀𝐘, 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 ❜
description: your boyfriend tends to remind you that you're so easy to love. characters: alhaitham + scaramouche (wanderer) a/n: had this idea brewing in my drafts and decided to finish it off ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ
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"no, i'm not buying a book from a genre i don't even like."
that's okay, alhaitham will.
actually, the idea of giving you your own bookshelf would already be on his mind as soon as you've successfully moved in with him and kaveh. the only catch? kaveh insists that he builds it himself as a gift.
alhaitham subtly asks you of your favorite wood one evening in the kitchen over a heavy discussion of zaytun peaches that kaveh was supposed to buy earlier that morning. trust me, he already knows which wood you'd absolutely adore, but he took the precaution of asking once again just in case as he'd be quite perturbed that his plan didn't work out in the end like he intended. he wanted it to cater to you, not anyone else.
the topic drifted from zaytun peaches to the week's trending romance novel that you had finished reading a few days ago.
"haitham, you should put this on your to-be-read list!"
"really? what's the appeal, love?"
listen guys and girls, he wants to know why you'd recommend it to him!!!
give him every little detail on why!! you want him!!! out of all people!! to read it!!!
he really just wants to hear you talk about what you find interesting.
contrary to popular belief, he doesn't hate the romance genre. he just finds it... meaningless to read? the last time he gave it a try, there was no actual knowledge in it. just fictional love between fictional characters.
but of course, he would consider it if you were to suggest something. especially if the book has you running laps around the bedroom.
so he sets out on to the nearest bookstore when he's on his 'break' and purchases the same copy you had.
you're DISCOMBOBULATED. BAFFLED.
that night you two would be in bed, settling down for the night, and he whips it out-- his fingers spreads the pages near the ending of the book and he begins reading.
"babe... why are you reading my book?"
"no, it's my book. i bought my own so you wouldn't complain about me creasing the spine."
"but why'd you buy one?"
he side-eyes you, "you suggested the book."
"but i didn't think you'd actually... you didn't have to. i know you aren't fond of--"
"i'm fond of you, and that's enough."
"no, i don't want you starting a commotion here in public."
that's okay, scaramouche will.
he loves you with his entire heart, body, and soul.
if someone stares at you weirdly? they're already being glared down by him. if a salesperson says anything about your attire, your hair (or the absense of it), or your skin-- he's throwing himself across the stall and grabbing their shirt to bring them closer to you.
he makes them apologize.
a woman, a man, an elder, a kid-- doesn't matter. as long as they got a mouth that can yap, he's gonna shut it.
your friends would let what people say to you slide, but he won't.
it's bad enough that he feels as if he doesn't deserve you so when you start thinking of yourself as someone whose less than even the dirt and cement beneath your feet, he's angry at everyone else for letting it get this far.
"what are you talking about? they insulted you and you stood there and took it!"
you don't want to feel like a burden, like someone whose always in need of being protected.
"i'm not your friend, i'm your partner," he grits. "it's what i'm supposed to do, you idiot."
really, it's just the ideal of protecting you that's instilled within his puppet body.
poor baby does not know an ounce of romance yet he said that line so effortlessly and in a way that had you choking on your next words.
as you cling to his bicep on the dirt road, you thank him. profusely. he finds it a bit annoying.
"you need to get better friends." is all he says.
he knew what loyalty was. he practically would get on his knees for it, too. he constantly looked for that in a partner, and you had answered.
he knew loyalty was needed in friendships, as well as relationships. especially relationships.
so it unsettled him when he heard that your so-called friends brushed off the verbal assaults directed to you and had the audacity to then say: "just smile and don't let it get to you"
it wouldn't be the first he's done this and it certainly won't be the last, and that's okay.
he wants to enjoy the smiles, laughs, and jokes you end up sharing with him all in an attempt to calm him down but he's already been calm. he's always found himself significantly calm around you, whether he admits it or not.
"come on, let's go home."
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© 2024 feelinmatcha
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imminent-danger-came · 10 months
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Sun Wukong Knew About MK the Whole Time: A Theory
I am currently hyped up on leftovers and iced coffee, so let's do this!
I've talked about this before, here and here, but I think it's finally time I wrote an official post. You can go and read those posts if you want to (I definitely hit the nail on the head with some of this stuff), but I will be compiling a lot of what I said on those posts here!
So. Let's get the Mr. Elephant out of the room first: The David Breen Tweets. (thread here).
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I see this tweet mentioned a lot whenever I bring up SWK knowing about MK, and honestly, this is a far cry from the "it's been confirmed that SWK didn't know" definite answer everyone's been implying.
So let's break it down!
#1: "Monkey King ain't the father"/"Monkey King isn't his dad." Well of course! Being born from a stone means you don't have any parents. I see it like this: Wukong isn't MK's dad, but he's also not NOT MK's dad, it's a secret third thing (creator and creation). Or, perhaps Wukong didn't help create MK at all, but he at the very least was involved in the circumstances that lead to MK being created/being born from the stone. (Aka eldritch abomination MK theory. My Beloved. Okay sorry.)
#2: "Monkey King was ripping his way through memories looking for MK, but kept coming back to the stone. He doesn't know why." So, while Wukong was ripping through memories, he didn't know why the scroll kept spitting him out by the stone. This is not a confirmation that Wukong didn't know about MK and his origins. It also begs the question: how did Wukong know MK was in the scroll to begin with? There's also some speculation to be had about why Wukong was so desperate to find MK to begin with:
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MK: "Monkey King did this?" Macaque: "It looks like he's been tearing his way through his past—trying to find his way to.." MK: "Me."
(4x11 A Lifetime of Mistakes)
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What was he so afraid of MK finding? Or, what was he afraid the scroll would force MK to experience? I think these are questions worth asking.
#3: "Wukong's trying real hard to leave the 'not being open with MK' days behind after s3. Problem is he's got lifetimes of info to catch them up on." Well, this one is a DOOZIE. One: we already know MK doesn't know everything about Wukong and his choices because he doesn't know Wukong killed Macaque (thank you 4x11). Two: "trying real hard" and "successfully doing" are very different things. And three: YOU DON'T JUST DROP INFO LIKE "Hey, did you know you're a Monkey Demon?" ON TOP OF SOMEONE RANDOMLY. Especially not MK. You have to prepare them for it.
Wukong is trying to do better and be better for everyone around him, but that still takes work. That still isn't easy. He's still going to make mistakes, which means he's not going to always go about being open with MK in the best way.
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Sun Wukong: “Point is, mistakes happen, but so long as you leave the world in better shape than you found it, then it’s all good. Right?”
(4x01 Familiar Tales)
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This scene—to me—feels like Wukong is trying prepare MK for his eventual "Hey did you know you're a Monkey Demon?" conversation he wants (and needs) to have down the line. Yes, SWK is trying to be more open with MK, but he's also just not going to be given that chance before the truth comes out.
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MK: "Yeah right, if Monkey King really was my dad don't you think he would have said something by now?" Mei: "Yeah...because he's normally SOOOOO forth coming with information." MK: "Well uh, whatever—when we find Monkey King's stone, then we'll just ask him!"
(4x05 Court of the Yellow Robbed Demon)
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Notice how they never asked Monkey King that question? From a writing standpoint, why bring this up at all if it wasn't to imply that (even if Monkey King isn't MK's dad) he wasn't involved with MK's creation in some way?
ANYWAYS.
NOW THAT THE BREEN TWEET THAT HAS RUINED MY LIFE IS OUT OF THE WAY, let's get into the evidence given to us throughout the entirety of the show. Starting with this:
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This isn't a scene that takes place during the "A Hero is Born" special, as I'm sure plenty of people have noticed before now. Of course, this could have just been Monkey King "scouting out a successor", but with everything we know now doesn't that...feel kinda weird?
We were told at the beginning of the show that Monkey King gave MK his powers, but now we know that's not true. MK has had his own powers this whole time—and that's something Wukong, at the very least, knew:
Sun Wukong: "Listen kid: You fought demons, and you didn't die, and you made it here! Not just anyone can lift my staff, but you did." (1x00 A Hero is Born)
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MK: "This whole time, I thought my powers came from the staff! Sun Wukong: "The staff's just a big 'ol stick bud! It takes someone special to lift it." (3x03 Smartie Kid)
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There's also 1x09 Macaque, which I have mentioned before:
Macaque: "Ohohoh no, can't you hold the magic staff anymore? Well, you know what that means—there really isn't anything special about you. You're just a kid with a heavy stick."
This scene is then followed by MK lifting the staff, which only happens because Wukong encourages him.
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MK: "Ugh, I can't! I'm not strong enough." Sun Wukong: "Kid! We're definitely going to have words later, but it's time for the Hero Stuff!"
(1x09 Macaque)
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Ultimately, Wukong knows MK can lift the staff again even after Macaque supposedly stole all of MK's powers. He knows MK can beat DBK (more on that later). He does something similar to all this in 3x14, being the one to let MK face the Lady Bone Demon, powered by the Samadhi fire, alone (even after Pigsy tries to stop MK):
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Wukong want's to protect MK. That's why he went to face the Lady Bone Demon alone in the first place—but here, he let's MK stop the end of the world all by himself. Why would he let his beloved student face not only LBD, but a reality ending flame alone?
Because he knows how much power MK has. Because he knows MK is capable of doing it.
This all brings me to my main point: If before now we were supposed to believe that Monkey King gave MK his powers, and he so clearly didn't, how would Wukong not know he didn't give MK powers. And because he clearly knew he didn't give MK any powers, why would he not question where this kid's insane level of power came from? He had to have "chosen" MK to be his successor for a reason right?
ESPECIALLY because Wukong never planned on being a mentor in the first place:
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Sun Wukong: "I know I can never make it up to you. Honestly, I- I never thought I'd live as long as I have let alone be someone's mentor—turns out I'm not very good at it. I guess what I'm trying to say is...I'm sorry MK. For all of it."
(3x14 Destiny Fulfilled)
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This was also alluded to in 3x05 Amnesia Rules:
Pigsy: "Of COURSE you don't remember the kid—one day you are going to grow up to be a terrible mentor!" Sun Wukong: "Ha! Zhu Bajie, can you imagine me teaching someone? HA!"
-
So, Wukong clearly didn't ever want to become a mentor, and this directly contradicts what Wukong says to MK in "A Hero is Born":
Sun Wukong: "You're perfect!" MK: "Perfect for what?" Sun Wukong: "To be...my successor!"
Honestly, think about it: has Wukong ever once actually needed a successor? When given the opportunity, he goes off and tries to handle things on his own anyways (Leaving in s2, wanting to go and reforge the Samadhi Fire on his own, going to stop LBD alone). It's the classic "we're being told one thing and shown another" trick.
Sun Wukong: "No no no- in case you forgot I'M retired, you're the one supposed to be taking care of the bad guys." (1x01 Bad Weather)
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Even in 2x01 he's lying:
Sun Wukong: "Aw, come on bud! I promised myself that when I found a successor I'd go see some friends, take a tour of my old stomping grounds, just cut loose you know?" (2x01 Sleep bug)
It's proven in the next episode, and by the fact that all of his friends are dead/gone, that literally nothing he said here is true.
And, it's also note worthy to point out, that by this point Wukong had already disappeared for hundreds of years. Why step in again at all? Why put the effort into getting a successor you definitely were never prepared to have?
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MK: "*sigh* You think Monkey King ever felt like this? Maybe that's why he stayed up on this mountain, just having a good time with you guys. You know cause- cause he knew he'd be out of the way where he couldn't hurt anyone he cared about." Macaque: "Or, he was doing his usual Wukong thing and being a lazy peach eating idiot. Ignoring all the worlds problems.
(4x09 Roast of the Monkie Kids)
-
So, I don't know about you, but I'm going to trust Macaque's insight on this. I'm not sure Wukong ever planned on coming back. Sealing DBK, he effectively cut off one of his last ties to the world (please go read wlw-wukong's thoughts, they are delightful), and he had already left the world alone for a long time. Why did he feel the need to train a successor now?
The simple answer is this: because he knew he needed to train MK and teach him to control his powers, and DBK's return was the perfect way to do it.
NOW. THE S4 MK VISIONS.
So, the visions MK see's all through out s4 (4x03, 4x04, 4x05, 4x06) are of Wukong ripping through the scroll and going to the stone—David Breen confirmed that himself in the above tweets.
Here's a list of what we see:
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(4x03 The Great Tang Man)
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(4x04 Pig Napped)
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(4x05 Court of the Yellow Robbed Demon)
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These are what I would say are the visions of Sun Wukong trying to find MK in the scroll. Yet, they are distinctly different from what Subodhi presses MK to remember ("Tell me of your childhood, your parents." "You do not remember?" "And what else?"):
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(4x06 Show Me the Monster)
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Look at that difference!
Every vision MK has includes the same scenes, except this one. That's why I think it's a memory; that and the way it's framed, with MK closing his eyes in focus. The other visions from 4x03, 4x04, and 4x05 all are unprompted, being forced upon MK. Why make this last "vision" so different from the others? Why show our mystery lady making the stone monkey? That would be because it's a memory—be it MK's, something from the scroll, or a mix of both.
There's also the matter of like, why Wukong going to the stone would trigger any sort of vision in MK to begin with. Overall, it just seems like there something more to those visions.
This would be how I imagine the general timeline playing out:
MK is created (through help of Sun Wukong), a beautiful baby boy pops out of the stone, and Sun Wukong "loses" that beautiful boy (if Wukong knew he was born to begin with) with MK finding his way to Pigsy's.
Then it's later Sun Wukong finds MK again, coming up with a plan to make MK his "successor" (still leaving MK with Pigsy, which I think was the right call lol). As Wukong says in 4x01, "You make ONE mistake, and no one ever let's you live it down! Looks like the ghosts of my past have finally caught up with me." That's what I think this parallel in particular is really trying to show off—in some way, MK is part of his past mistakes, just like Macaque is.
AND SO. I WILL CLOSE OFF THIS THEORY POST WITH EVERYTHING WE LEARNED IN THE SPECIAL.
Sun Wukong: "Heh, nothing gets under his skin more than a monkey. Leave Azure to MK and me."
(4x12 The Plan Man)
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Sun Wukong: "Kinda embarrassing for the Jade Emperor to have two little cheeky monkeys running circles around him the first day on the job." MK: "Well, one monkey and one unconfirmed, but *laughs* yeah! I'd be embarrassed for sure!"
(4x13 Rip and Tear)
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Wukong sounds suspiciously confident that MK is a monkey.
Not even MK is sure what he is (which he's probably just in denial, but also "Until I know what I am, what my destiny is?" from 4x08 anyone?), but Sun Wukong is extremely certain about what MK is.
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Sun Wukong: "We got this bud. Would have liked to give you some new training with your monkey form, but-" MK: "Oh yeah yeah yeah- uh um- about that— um. I- I was thinking, I've never really needed a scary new monkey form before, so, I just thought maybe I'd use it next time." Sun Wukong: "Next time? Kid, there might not be a next time! This is the time."
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MK: "It's be fine! Mei and I have got this awesome new armor and everything! You know, when we look this good? Ain't nothing gonna beat us." Sun Wukong: "Kid. New armor isn't going to cut it! We have to hit Azure with everything we've got! You can't just ignore this whole part of your power because it scares you!"
(4x12 The Plan Man)
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If the writers were trying to highlight the fact that Wukong didn't know, this scene would have gone very differently. Instead of "You can't just ignore this whole part of your power because it scares you!" I think it would have been more along the lines of "I know this is new for all of us, but you've got to accept this part of your power!".
Even this exchange at the end of the special raises some alarm bells for me:
Pigsy: "Heh, don't bother. I've been telling him that for years but he LITERALLY never listens." Sun Wukong: "Yep! That's how we roll."
(4x14 Better Than We Found It)
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That's how "we" roll? As in him and MK, as two monkeys? Again, Wukong is surprisingly chill and okay with this new form for someone whose first interaction with it was supposedly this:
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MK, writhing on the ground in pain, completely destroying the world around him, and unable to control his powers.
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Sun Wukong: "Yeah! Go MK, go! Just try not to totally wreck up my stuff would ya-"
(4x13 Rip and Tear)
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Overall, it gives me the impression that Wukong already knew what MK was before 4x07. This new form didn't scare him because he always knew that's what MK was. MK, to Wukong, is MK! And MK has always been a Monkey Demon. He has unshakeable faith in his protege, and even while MK is absolutely tearing up the world around flower fruit mountain he can't help but cheer for him.
After all, Wukong knows MK is the only one who could defeat Azure:
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MK: "Ne Zha's right—while Azure has the Jade Emperor's power and the scroll, there's NO way we could beat him head on!" Sun Wukong: "I mean, some of us could beat him! *ahem* One of us, specifically-" MK: "Nope! None of us at all."
(4x12 The Plan Man)
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"But Imp!" I hear you say, "Wukong was talking about himself here!". To which I would reply, that's not true! This scene is right after Wukong has already said he only almost beat the Jade Emperor:
Sun Wukong: "But don't worry—I almost beat the Jade Emperor single handed once! Between both of us, Azure doesn't stand a chance." (4x12 The Plan Man)
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Between this and Wukong's pre-fight convo with MK ("We have to hit Azure with everything we've got!"), he's clearly banking on MK using the full extent of his powers to win this fight. Wukong isn't banking on his own—if he were, he would never have left MK to go and collect the scroll pieces during their fight with Azure.
Conclusion
Sun Wukong knew MK was a monkey the whole time, lol—and fate has plans for MK. Great plans, or foul? Time will tell.
And Wukong has done his best to ensure that those plans are great.
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luvnoirs · 2 months
Note
MORE PAIGEEE
senior night
paring: paige x fem!reader synopsis: paige asks you to be her girlfriend during senior night warning(s): none ! (sfw) word count: 1.2k
a/n: this was a request (i changed it just a bit) and i feel like i kinda rushed it a little cause i wanted to hurry and give y'all something so im sorry for that 😭
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you only had one goal tonight: do not cry.
it was senior night at uconn tonight and since you were extremely close friends with the women's basketball team, you stood in the crowd cheering on as the seniors on the team began receiving their plaques. you knew that regardless of their decision to stay at uconn or persue their career beyond college, your friendship with the girls would never falter. you would even call them your sisters and you successfully held back tears at the sight of watching them be recognized for all their hard work and contribution to the huge legacy that uconn holds.
though as one particular blonde started walking across the gym floor along with her family members, you felt your heart tug.
you had just seen her before the game, wishing her good luck with a swift kiss on the cheek and a sweet smile. if you two weren't in front of a sold-out crowd and cameras showcasing the game on national television, you would have given her that kiss on the lips like you've been doing for the past few weeks.
at first, you two thought it was nothing. it was normal for friends to kiss each other, right? though with one too many shots at ted's one night and an entire dorm room to yourself, one thing led to another, and shortly, the two of you became casual sex partners. you both agreed not to let it ruin your friendship and that it was just for fun, but you couldn't help but start feeling something that was more than platonic for the girl.
though the complicated friendship between you and paige might've been a secret to everyone else, it didn't go unnoticed by your friend azzi. the girl was constantly nagging you about the two of you making things official, but you simply didn't have the courage to tell paige how you really felt about her.
moments later, all the seniors began to line up to say a special speech, and one by one they all went, leaving paige to be the last one to speak.
she grabbed the microphone from aubrey and spoke, "uh, i can't put into words what this program has meant to me—what you guys have meant to me..."
and as she continued speaking, you felt your smile grow. even before you and paige started seeing each other exclusively, you've always been friends and loved each other, so you know exactly what she's been through and how much she struggled behind closed doors.
you can remember being there to comfort her last season when she was out due to her injury. paige had shown up to your dorm, her usual happy expression replaced with a straight face and watery blue eyes. you two had spent that night watching tv and talking about the most random topics to take paige's mind off of missing the season as she snuggled into you on your couch.
and ever since that day, it has become your ritual. paige spent at least one night a week over at your dorm, even sleeping over until the next day some times. she even bothered to stop giving you a heads up and just used the spare key that you had given her to let herself in whenever she pleased.
you let out a quiet laugh at the memory of her walking in while your back was turned, and she thought it would be a good idea to scare you. and after that day, she swore to never sneak up on you again after ending up with a nasty bruise on the side of her face due to the force of your fast reflex.
"and one more thing—and i just know she's gonna kill me for this, but i've spent these past few days trying to figure out how to do this." paige said as the crowd grew quiet in anticipation.
your eyes squinted in confusion as you watched her. you were just as confused as everyone else.
"but tonight is special, so i thought, why not do it tonight? a huge reason why this won't be my last senior night is because of a very, very special woman who has helped me through my tough times and has, in general, made me a better person. without her, or, of course, my fellow teammates, i'm not sure i would have made it through this season so far, and i just want to thank her for being there for me."
the crowd erupted in more cheers, some even shedding a few tears, while you stood with your mouth open, wondering what the hell she was talking about.
"i don't want to make this too sappy or take up too much of your time, so with that being said, i want to ask y/n to come up here, please."
your heart sank. at first, you thought you were hearing the wrong thing, but since the team already knew where you were seated, they all turned towards you and began cheering. i stood in shock as they gestured for me to come down onto the gym floor as the rest of the crowd began clapping and whistling. i watched as a few of the teammates started jumping around with red and pink balloons and a few signs, one of 'i love you'. you wondered how they even managed to hide that.
with a hand over your mouth, you began excusing yourself as you made your way past the fans and down the stairs to the main floor. paige stood in the middle with the microphone still in her hand and a huge smile on her face. your feet felt like they were glued to the ground, and she must've noticed, so she began walking towards you instead.
"y/n, i couldn't tell you why i didn't do this sooner because, honestly, i've loved you since our freshman year here..."
and as paige continued, you felt yourself finally cry. with a huff, you tried to wipe them away before they fell but it was just too many tears escaping at once. her long legs allowed her to reach you in no time and she lifted her free hand to softly wipe the tears that you failed to catch with the pad of her thumb.
"... so, i want to ask you to officially be mine," paige handed the microphone to aaliyah who was nearby, and grabbed my face with both of her hands. "will you be my girlfriend?"
you barely had any time to blink because, as soon as you said yes, the blonde engulfed you in a hug, lifting you off the floor to even spin you around. the crowd loved it.
"paige!" you laughed, as she finally placed you back on your feet. you placed your hands on top of your head in disbelief. "you... i can't believe you did this! you could've asked me on a regular wednesday afternoon, and i would've said yes."
paige scoffed, "you know i'm extra and gotta go all out."
your response was cut short by the rest of the team bombarding you with hugs and more cheers.
"you guys were behind all this?" you asked them, and they all nodded.
"girl, everyone knew about you two. it was so obvious." ice said knowingly, and the rest of the team nodded in agreement. "and jana you owe me ten bucks."
"you guys did not make a bet on me." paige said in disbelief, and jana shrugged.
"i didn't think you would actually do it.”
and as the rest of the team went on in conversation, you grabbed your girlfriend's hand and placed a kiss on the back of her palm.
"i love you."
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highhhfiveee · 6 months
Text
safety net (pornstar!mike schmidt x reader)
tags: fluff? angst? just exposition really. no mentions of porn or sex here! just mike being a hero and reader appreciating him errors in here as usual!
part two: 💸
you didn't really do dating.
you'd tried so many times before to no avail. things would start nicely, people making your laugh float into the air and your heart flutter, but it never got past that. anytime you start to think about these things seriously, the other party pulls away. you're always left in the dust, responsible for picking up the pieces of your heart, gluing them back together, and trying again.
it's exhausting and after your last failure, you're not sure you want to try again.
one chance encounter on a dating app changes your mind. you think it's so foolish how easily you fall into it, giggling and kicking your feet at yet another potential partner, but when your first date is coordinated successfully and the second and the third, you begin to feel safe enough to indulge.
for your fourth date, you've arrived at this fancy restaurant in the middle of the city. you're super done up, wearing a dress that you love but have to return in the morning and your tallest pair of heels. your hair is swept up just the way simon, your date, likes it. you never liked it this way, but he calls you "so beautiful" when he sees you like this, and it makes your blood rush in your ears so you wear it up any time you're around him.
simon was nice, but you didn't have much in common; he was a straight-edge tech guy. he went to bed at 10 every night and woke up at 6 every morning, planning his days out in five-minute increments (he'd excitedly showed you his planner and you had to pretend that you were very very interested 💔).
you, on the other hand, woke up at noon on days you didn't have to work, going to bed at 4 am the night before. you never knew what to do and your apartment was covered in sticky notes donning different tasks: "read book". "wash dishes". "mail off package".
you two managed nice, small talk-ish conversation and he made you feel pretty. the only thing you two had in common was your love for coffee.
you're seated at your table and all goes well up until you receive the check, although you're a little bored. you're picking at your dessert and wondering if the art on the walls is real as simon opens the billbook and slides a card in there.
"i have to go to the bathroom. be right back," he stands, craning his head down to place a kiss on your cheek, and then you're alone, finally tuning into the din of the restaurant. it's busier than you realized.
your waitress takes your bill and leaves to tender you out. simon is still using the bathroom, and at first, it's not worrying. you wouldn't be surprised if he got lost on the way there, but after ten minutes, you start to worry.
the waitress returns to your table and you think you're fine to leave, but she sets the billbook on the table, stating, "did you have another form of payment? it said this card was expired."
you shake your head, anxiously blinking your eyes. "expired?" you open the book to see the $400 total at the bottom of your receipt and simon's card tucked behind the plastic pouch. you take it out and inspect the expiration date. three years gone.
"i--i, uh," you begin to panic. you had no idea what to do. you didn't have $400 in your bank account, $405.72 less than that actually. you didn't have anyone to call to spot you; what normal person had a casual $400 to throw at a friend for dinner? if you called your mom, she would laugh over the receiver the whole time, hanging up on you.
the waitress is staring at you, expectantly, but you can't even meet her gaze. in your alarm, you scanned your eyes around the restaurant and caught simon, in his very noticeable purple suit jacket, speed-walking towards the entrance of the restaurant.
you shoot to your feet, taking off your heels, wrangling up your other belongings and dashing after him.
you hear the waitress shout, "ma'am!" behind you but there's no stopping you. what are you gonna do, pay for the meal?
you're pushing yourself in between other patrons, forgetting your manners. you're hyperfocused on simon, keeping track of his head bobbing through the throng of people.
he's made it outside just a little before you, using a brisk pace to walk down the sidewalk.
"simon!" you yell, watching him speed up a bit until he's a phantom around the corner. "simon!!!"
there are some stragglers outside, just a few eyes on the frantic girl holding her heels and screaming. you're sure they think you're drunk, but you don't care.
you scream simon's name one more time. it's shrill and blood-curdling and something you'd never expect to come out of you. you didn't get upset like this, and you know you're truly upset when you feel a tear hit your arm.
you rarely cried, but here you were, breaking down on the sidewalk outside one of the most expensive restaurants in the state. you take a despondent seat on a bench, trying to catch your breath and stop crying. you take your hair down childishly, and the thought of simon liking it sends you back into tears.
you're a blubbering, snot-covered mess when mike sees you. he's exiting the restaurant, asking for his car from valet when he notices you on the bench, staring blankly into the air.
you're beautiful, and he's unsure as to why you're sitting here in tears. no one else decides to check on you. he takes the initiative.
his hand reaches out to your shoulder and it makes you jump, shouting at him to back away from you. he holds up his hands, muttering, "hey, hey. i'm sorry, i don't want to hurt you. i just wanted to ask if you were okay."
you don't expect the voice that comes out of him. its suburban, syrupy tone doesn't quite match his look; his hair is freshly cut and it feels like there's not a single wrinkle in any of his clothes. they look quality, and expensive. the rings adorning most of his fingers give off the same vibe.
great. one of these guys.
"i'm fine," you snap, wiping at your congested nose with the back of your hand. "i don't need saving, especially not from a nice guy like you."
mike laughs, and you're embarrassed to admit to yourself that you like how it sounds.
"who said i was a nice guy? i just asked if you were okay." you shrink away, avoiding his eyes.
"it's not my fault that you give that off. sounds like a you problem."
mike doesn't stop talking to you, which is surprising. even with all the disrespect, he sits beside you and rummages along the inside of his jacket for something to give you.
you don't admit it, but you're thankful for the small plastic package of tissues. "everyone has problems. there seems to be one plaguing you right now," he leans into your shoulder, eyeing you intently. "wanna tell me what it is?"
you're still cleaning yourself up, taking another tissue out to wipe at your ruined makeup when the waitress marches out of the restaurant with two burly security guards behind her. she points to you with zeal, announcing, "that's her."
the security guards make their way over to you, disregarding mike as he asks, "woah, woah, what's going on?"
"this young lady tried to skip out on her bill." you shake your head irritably, standing to your feet. you're not even half the height of these dudes.
"i didn't, my date did. he put an expired card down to pay and then used the bathroom excuse to get out of it." mike shakes his head. in what world would someone try to escape a date with you?
"makes sense, but you still have to pay for the meal."
"how the fuck am i supposed to do that?" you screech, crossing your arms over your chest. "i don't have any money. i have to return this stupid fucking dress in the morning just so i can pay my rent."
the dress is nice. it's a black satin maxi dress with thin straps and a slit up the side. it's fairly simple, but mike can't deny how well it fits you, and how good you look in it.
"i don't know what you're going to do, but you better do something or we're going to have to call the police."
"fucking call them! i don't care," you retort, and so begins your back and forth with the security personnel.
"you don't care?"
"no."
"are you an idiot? you just don't care?"
"okay, one, i'm not an idiot and two, i really don't. this whole situation is fucking stupid. i can't pay the bill, okay? i don't know what to tell you."
"my mom always said that as a female, you should never be broke. maybe it's time for you to stand on that corner right there in that pretty dress and sell your---" the man is cut off by a sharp "hey, watch yourself. i'll fucking kill you." from mike. he steps to the security guards, who retreat a little when they realize he's not joking.
you don't know this man, not even his name, but he asked you if you were okay then and now, he's standing up for you, even after you accused him of being a nice guy. you make a mental note to apologize to him after all of this.
"i'll pay the fucking bill. how much is it?"
"it's $400, mr. schmidt," the waitress says, her face awash with red. Last name basis? How often did he come to this expensive ass restaurant?
mike looks at you and then back to the waitress, saying, "charge it to my tab. tip the bill." The waitress nods excitedly, echoing, "thank you, thank you, thank you" as she scurries back inside with the security guards. They give mike dirty looks the entire way back, giving up just before disappearing into oblivion.
mike faces you. He's a little disheveled in the eyes, the irritation he holds inside written all over his face. somehow, even his scowl is attractive.
you rub your hands over your goosebumped arms, the chill in the air wildly apparent. mike is instantly shrugging his jacket off and draping it over your shoulders, giving you a friendly smile. it's warm inside, and smells like the expensive department store colognes you snuck samples of as a kid. for some reason, you feel at ease.
"i'm sorry about your date. he sounds like a dickhead."
"yeah," you agree, biting at your cracked bottom lip. "i guess it's my fault. i really shouldn't have trusted a guy who planned his day by fives."
"hours?"
"minutes."
mike sucks air between his teeth, cringing at your words. "he sounds like a psychopath."
"maybe he was," you hum, using the lapels of mike's coat to pull it tighter around you. "dodged bullet."
"dodged bullet," he repeats, smirking down at you. his hazel eyes sparkle. you don't know why you feel so... positively unnerved yet tranquil in his presence. who was this man?
"mr. schmidt?" a valet worker in all white exits an expensive-looking, deep gray sports car. the interior looks like a spaceship, and you can't help but crane your neck a little further to get a better look.
you're not paying attention as the worker drops the keys into mike's hand and mike hands him a hundred-dollar bill he fished from his pocket. you're just focused on the car, wondering a million things. how much was it? how was its gas mileage? did it take premium gas or something more?
"do you need a ride home?" mike holds the keys up, jangling them in front of your face. you connect the dots and let out a loud belly laugh, completely blindsided.
"this is your car?"
"i...think so?" he teases, watching the happiness fall from your face. a ride home. why would you want to go home to be alone, once again collecting the jagged pieces of your broken heart from the floor?
mike instantly stiffens. "that was a joke," he clarifies, but you dismiss it with a raise of your hand.
"no no, it was fine, funny even. i just...i don't want to go home right now."
"do you want to come back to mine?" mike doesn't know if it's too forward, but it doesn't hurt to try. you needed company, and nothing would ever compel him to leave you here after everything. he catches the way your face twitches and raises his hands in defense again. "no funny business, i promise. just so you're safe, and not alone tonight."
you don't think over it very long. you'd been to plenty of strangers' houses, and this was only one night. you were sure you could trust this man. after your date from hell and nearly going to jail, what was the harm?
"okay, i'll come. thank you," you muse as mike leads you to the passenger side of his car. he opens the door for you, and you crane your head to him before you sit down. you're so close you can see the flecks in his hazel eyes, the freckles dusting the bridge of his nose, every single individual hair that peppers his jaw and mouth. it makes you forget your name.
"i'm y/n, by the way." he nods and smiles at you, wide and bright. suddenly, your legs feel like noodles.
"nice to meet you, y/n. i'm mike."
"mike," you repeat as you lower yourself into his car. "mike."
who knew where this would lead you?
been up all night writing this ayyeeeee, i write SO MUCH! going to work on writing blurbs, i promiseeeeeee. also this is very cute. i'm excited to delve into their story because it will be mostly pwp (for ficlets and blurbs) but definitely more structured for longer fics. can't wait to see where it goes!
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reiderwriter · 4 months
Note
Hi there! It's me :"> again I read that you're closing your request soon and I just want to put another in before the deadline haha But by no mean you should put more pressure on yourself please take all the time you need, I'm always here happily waiting while enjoy reading all of the fabulous writing you had for other requests <3 Much love to your work <3
I have a request for s smut fic when the BAU was called in for a case: the victims were workers at the local bars/restaurants, the bau!reader recognised one of the bars the unsub frequently target is the one she used to work at as bartender/mixologist while putting herself through school and asked to be the undercover while other agents supervise. After successfully closing the case, the BAU decided to celebrate at said bar and the owner was happy to let the reader personally make your friends any cocktails outside of the menu.
The reader then learned about all the mildly irritations and possessive feelings softdom!Spencer had while watching people hitting on you behind the bar, but all of that can be solved with a (almost criminally) 3-sugar-cube level of sweet of a cocktail the reader personally made for him hiding an ungodly amount of alcohol which made the night a lot more interesting ;)
I'm sorry if all of my requests are soo long I know you want to have as much details as possible but please lemme know if you feel like it's too much haha Happy writing!! :">
A/N: Thank you for your request! I was partly inspired by this post to help me out with some of the drinks orders, so go check it out for more character headcannoms!
Warnings: NSFW, soft dom! Spencer, spanking, semi-public sex, jealousy, slight breeding kink/ creampie, thigh fucking etc. 18+ Minors DNI
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It had been a good few years since you quit the bartending job that put you through college, so you didn't realise just how much you'd missed it.
You thought it was the universe intervening when a case popped up in your college town, and the bar you'd spent every weekend in for nearly three years straight from the end of your undergrad to the first years of your masters degree was at the dead centre of Spencer Reid's geographical profile.
You knew the unsub had been hunting from bars, and it took only a few nights of surveillance to catch his scent, and one more of a simple cover to get the guy.
You'd taken up your spot once again, slipping easily back into making cocktails and pouring pints of beer on tap - a skill you were regretfully slow to learn but happy to see stayed with you even in your brief retirement.
You busted the bar while your coworkers tried to look inconspicuous sitting around as customers. Diligently, you served them mocktails and alcohol free beer ad regulars clapped you on the back, greeting you like an old friend as you worked to catch a killer.
JJ was the bait, and you were glad, for once, that it wasn't you, even if that thought made you feel guilty. She slipped out with a crash, and all eyed were on the man that followed her quietly to the alleyway out back.
He practically arrested himself. All in all, it had taken maybe three days to catch the guy, and you'd never been so happy to have had to work a double shift to do it.
“Y/N, if this FBI thing doesn't work for you, I'd be glad to have you back behind the bar. These college students just aren't what they used to be.” Your ex-boss grinned at you, indulging in his own glass of whiskey now that the case was closed.
He'd graciously invited your entire team to spend the rest of the evening at the bar celebrating (for at least a drink or two before his wife came to collect him). You were shocked when Hotch took him up on the offer, but happily stayed behind the bar mixing up the drinks.
“Okay, now that we've found out you're this magic mixologist, you have got to make us personal cocktails. I want to see how drunk you can get me, Y/L/N.” Emily laughed from the corner, finishing the last dregs of her virgin piña colada.
“My dear Emily, it is not the mixologist job to get you drunk, it's the mixologist job to keep you sober for as long as possible so you keep buying drinks.”
“No, come on kid, I'm intrigued as well. I'm not a cocktail guy but you've been pouring like a woman possessed tonight. Help.me out here, Spencer, hasn't she been on fire?”
Spencer's eye caught yours and your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a small smile. He'd been quiet all night, and you felt a little regretful that you'd made him stay so long in a place he wasn't entirely comfortable with. But he was still here, and surprisingly, still drinking, nursing the beer that your old boss had served them all when they'd returned from the crime scene.
“Mixology is an interesting field of study. When you think about it, it's practically chemistry.”
“I like to think of it as alchemy,” you grinned at him, enjoying the way he could turn anything into something more complicated and mathematical than it is. “Because one sip of one of my cocktails will have you thinking you've unlocked the secret of immortality.”
“Okay, if that's how drunk we're getting tonight then I'm calling home now,” JJ laughed standing from her chair and already dialling the numbers.
“Okay - here we go.” You grabbed the bottle of vodka from the counter and started, keeping your eyes focused on Reid as much as you could.
–X–
After two hours and about 5 rounds of cocktails, you'd nearly defeated the entire team. Your ex-boss had thrown you the keys half an hour earlier and called himself a cab, leaving you behind to close up just like old times.
Hotchner and Rossi had given in after two drinks each, apparently old and wise enough to know just how much alcohol was in an Old Fashioned and a Negroni each.
“Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Emily had mocked them on the way out, but two drinks later and she was asleep in the back of a cab having been carried out by both JJ and Morgan.
You'd used the good gin in her Aviation cocktail, and it was only a matter of time before she ended up peacefully sleeping the week away.
The only member of the team left standing was, surprisingly again, Spencer.
You'd gone simple with his Espresso Martini, though you'd made a big show and dance about adding twice as much brown sugar syrup than the recipe required.
“A sweet cocktail for the man who drinks the sweetest coffee known to man.” He'd brushed his hand across your fingers every time you'd passed him a refill, and you'd felt the familiar jolts of anticipation pass through you with each shared glance.
Your old boss had even noticed that you were ‘sweet on that little coworker of yours,’ and you'd had to do your best to stop yourself from openly flirting with him whilst he was sat there at the bar.
You'd done it for tips every single shift, not caring about the consequences, buy with Spencer, you so desperately wanted there to be consequences that you never so much as tried.
“We should pack up and head home, Spence.” You said, cleaning up the final glass of Mai Tai Derek had left behind, but when you turned around to see him, he was gone.
More accurately, he'd moved to your side of the bar and was sliding his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in.
You gasped his name like a prayer, not expecting his cold fingers to curl under your shirt as he buried his head in your shoulder.
“Spencer! What's… what are…”
“Let me hold you.” He didn't say much more than that, but he didn't need to say more. You'd already.relaxed into his touch, eyes shutting so you could focus on the feel of his skin against yours.
“You're good at this,” he mumbled, words slightly slurred. “Everyone was watching you, they all wanted you to pour their drinks.”
You listened to each word of his voice fighting off confusion. Who was everybody? There hadn't been another customer in the bar since you'd made the arrest.
“The old men in the corner, they looked down your top when you picked something up for them. I heard them talking about it, how they thought about stuffing a couple of one's right here,” his hand trailed up to your breasts and you gasped, “like you were some stripper.”
His hands were slowly caressing you as he stood, chest pressed against your back, and you felt desire flood between your legs.
“Spencer, you're drunk, we should get you back to the motel.”
“My blood alcohol level should be around 0.11, so yes, legally I am drunk. If you want me back at the motel, be my guest, but I don't think I can keep my hands off of you tonight, Y/N.”
His words were blunt, delivered the same way he usually talked about case details, or books he'd read. There was nothing in it to indicate he'd meant to turn your world upside down just like that.
His hand had moved under your bra now, and you snapped back to reality, grabbing his hand and halting his movements momentarily as you craned your neck to look at him.
“Spencer, you're not in your right mind, you're going to regret this-” you didn't get to finish the sentence as he cut you off, pushing his lips into yours softly. With each second, his passion grew, until the two of you were caught in a battle of tongues, saliva dripping down your chin as you cared about nothing else but the pleasure you found in each other's mouths.
“The only thing,” he whispered between kisses. “That I'm going to regret, is if I let you walk me out of that door without showing you how much I want to possess every inch of you.”
His words were insistent but there was a question hidden in his movements. He'd withdrawn slightly, giving you enough space to turn him down should you want to.
You didn't.
Instead, you let a hand run up the back of his neck to his hair until you were pulling him down into you, stepping back into the warmth of his broad chest as you opened up to him.
Your other hand relinquished his, letting him explore your chest further and doing much of the same as you tried your very best to twist in your spot to get a better hold of him.
He was holding firm though, despite everything he'd drank, and had pushed you once again against the counter, hand moving between exploring your ass cheeks, and placing your hand firmly underneath you on the table so you could stabilise your position.
He worked his lips down your neck, prying your other hand out of his hair and placing it parallel to the first, before pulling your hips back slightly and encouraging you to arch your back.
You only realised you'd assumed a position for spanking when the first blow landed on your ass.
It was soft, all things considered, and he was still busy bruising your neck that you almost thought you'd imagined it.
The next one was harder though. It was real.
“Spencer!” You gasped as he stroked a hand over your asscheeks.
“Shhhhhhhh s'okay. You have a beautiful ass, I'm just making it prettier.”
His hands fumbled over your pants zipper, and then pulled them down to your knees as he continued stroking your ass and licking your neck.
The material limited your movements, trapping your knees together as he delivered one more blow. The skin to skin contact was too much and you let out a sinful moan, surprised at how loud you were suddenly managing to be.
You'd never been spanked before, never even thought about it, but something about Spencer's hands on you, the lingering scent of alcohol in the air had every hair on your body standing in excitement.
You heard Spencer unzip his own pants and were a little regretful that you didn't get the honour. You wanted to see him hold him in your hand, take him into your mouth and play with him until you knew just how he worked. But your back was still to him, and he wasn't giving you the space you needed to turn around and catch a glimpse.
“Every man in this bar tonight wanted to be where I am right now,” he whispered into your hair as he kissed the crown of your head, and then pushed your panties aside and ran himself along the lips of your cunt.
It was a night of sounds - the zippers, his whispers, your moans - bit you still weren't expecting to be able to hear your arousal.
It was erotic, near pornographic how wet his spanking had made you, and he let out small groans of appreciation as he gathered your juices on his cock.
He didn't try to breech you just yet, but rocked his cock between your thighs and cunt, teasing you just enough to keep you hooked, but nowhere near where you needed him to get you.
“Every man who was in here wanted you, and I got you. Right?” He asked again, practically rutting against your cunt.
“Y-Yes, Spencer.”
“Yes, sir.” He corrected, and you gasped as his hand struck your ass again, dangerously close to where his hips joined yours.
“Yes, sir.”
“Be a good girl for me, baby. I want to take care of you.”
With those words, he lined the tip of his cock up with your entrance and slipped in.
With your knees still locked in place by your pants, it was really up to Spencer to control the pace. You didn't spare a second for the thought that had you been completely naked with a better range of motion that he still wouldn't relinquish this quiet control of you.
With one hand on your hip, and the other curled around to reach your clit as you arched your back against him, it wasn't long before he was setting a vigorous pace.
It wasn't that he was thrusting particularly fast, or that he was doing it ridiculously hard, like some men who knew no better tried. It was the combination of how far he was able to reach with his careful concentration on your pleasure.
You felt him speed up once before quickly drawing himself back to the even tempo, doing his best to not get lost in you.
His fingers traced your cunt in a slow figure eight as first, before experimenting with different movements, shapes, words until he'd been rewarded by your cunt clenching around his cock as you came all over it.
You gasped in shock, and flushed, so shocked it took only that long.
Instead of congratulating himself on getting you off though, he used your orgasm to inform himself of what you liked, what you so desperately needed from his fingers and his cock.
And most importantly, he didn't stop.
Even as your body twitched and spasmed around his cock, he kept up his wrist movements, keeping your body warmed up as he finally took his turn.
“Tell me how much you want this,” he whispered into your ear.
“I want this so badly, Sir, I need your cock pumping in and- ahhh out of me.”
“Tell me how nice my cock feels,” he again ordered and you willingly obeyed.
“Your cock is perfect, it's so big and warm, like it was made just for me.”
“Good girl, now tell me how much you want me to shoot my cum inside of you.”
Your mouth went dry as you choked out a moan, his pace getting rougher and rougher with each thrust. You hadn't heard him correctly, surely, your brain was imagining things.
But he prompted you with a slight tap to your face, a slap that wouldn't leave any mark.
“You don't want my cum all over this bar, do you? It would be a shame for your ex boss to fail his hygiene inspection.”
“Cum in me! God, please cum in me.”
He gripped you tight around your waist as he finally pushed himself over the edge, filling you with his seed and keeping you pinned in his arms until he was sure that none of it would escape.
“I'm glad you agreed, because I wasn't asking,” he said, chest still slightly heaving as he rode out his orgasm, lower body twitching in its sensitivity.
When he finally did pull out, he'd spent so long inside you, cockwarming, that not much of his cum slipped out. He cleaned you up with a clean dishcloth you pointed to on the counter, and pulled your pants back up, quickly manoeuvring his up too.
After a brief moment of silence, you finally turned to look at him, melting into his arms again as you took in his fucked out expression.
He stroked your head quietly for a few minutes, before pulling back from your hug.
“This bar doesn't have CCTV, does it?”
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pyreo · 15 days
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I'm comparing the Dungeon Meshi manga to episodes I just watched and now I gotta capital-p Post about this one episode (spoilers past Episode 12)
So this part is an emotional side-step from the central throughline so far - Laios and Marcille got Falin back successfully and reunited, and they got that payoff from the very beginning where they thought it would be impossible. But Chilchuck is very much a part of these layers of development, so after that dragon finally dies, we stop for a second - Laios and Marcille are recovering, Falin has disappeared again - how does Chilchuck feel at that point?
It's the perfect stage to insert that because he didn't really share in that sense of victory in the same way as Laios and Marcille recovering someone extremely close to them. And that's on purpose because he keeps everyone at arms' length. As soon as that arc hits its end and Falin is recovered, there's at last space to ask - why is Chilchuck even here.
He's asking himself that through the chapter. Now that they've lost the person they intended to save, he regrets agreeing to come.
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And starts shouldering responsibility for everything ending up this way. We saw that when he got stuck in the mimic room before - he refuses to let himself ask for help, or he'll try to take burdens alone to lessen relying on others. The original Touden Party was six people, and when Laios insisted on going back underground they were two, and he knew they would die, and figured maybe, maybe if they were one more, with his skillset, maybe they'd have a chance. He couldn't let them walk back down just to die.
And he's going back to that mindset - their lives are on me. He thinks he could have prevented this if he'd chosen differently. Essentially, the walk alongside the orc woman is him working through a guilt spiral.
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He sees a second chance to correct that mistake of joining the party. He wants them out now, before they die. The orc asks him how they defeated a dragon and, in explaining it, he reminds himself of all the risky, ridiculous things they had to do, and he isn't satisfied with just getting lucky. Laios got his foot bitten off, on purpose! This proves to him that if they go any further they will not survive. And he hints at this dissatisfaction a couple chapters later, wishing his teammates prioritised things other than winning at all costs...
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Like, obviously. The point of this chapter is Chilchuck pretending to be a self-serving coward. To the point where others react with disdain, even disgust, towards him because he wants to lie to Marcille and Laios to ensure they turn back. He's desperate to get out of a hopeless situation by any means necessary, and will destroy his standing in the group in a blink if it means nobody else dies. He has to go on a stupid mental health walk for his stupid mental health and talk through his little bout of panic and doubt.
'You called me a coward so don't be surprised when I act accordingly'
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He needs someone very blunt to tell him 'dude you're not being a coward for wanting your friends to get out of hell alive. you're a coward for making excuses instead of honestly telling them your concern is genuine' and he BSODs about it. He needs to rant and externalise that frustration over their recklessness at a third party. He needs to scream that they are idiots because he's the only one for which the ends don't justify the means and he can't keep losing his mind over everyone's safety. Down to a point, the orc praises their ability to survive the explosion from the dragon's fuel sac, and it only justifies Chilchuck - Falin didn't even know she could cast the spell that stopped them all being killed, and they cannot continue getting lucky like this.
Anyway. The reason I stopped to think about it was this part-
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Where he recovers Laios's monster-infused sword. The thing that made their situation in the dragon fight go from bad to worse, that he swore at Laios for in every language he knew. The most angry we'd seen him. And now he calmly picks it up and praises it for being the only one of them smart enough to make a run for it.
He's projecting, obviously. He's internalising the label of 'coward' and changing himself to fit it. And, look at him, he's so tired of this. It's evidence of his sheer exhaustion that his anger immediately disappears and he actually gives it a compliment. Him and Laios's sword, the group cowards, the only one who agrees with him.
Then, because he had a walk before getting into the argument, he's organised his feelings and drops all the walls and pretense and just says it.
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There's a rule of writing where you contrast your high energy sequences with parts that are slow and mundane, to make the difference more apparent. I think that's why I like this bit so much. The fight against the dragon is long, and the emotional stakes are enormous. Right after that we have the bath scene with Falin and Marcille, and Laios ruffling Falin's hair, and this part that pauses everything to explore the stuff that Chilchuck finally needs to say. And it's wrapped in this neat little solemn journey to pick up their supplies and remember how it felt when all five of them had a meal around a real dinner table at last.
And because he doesn't resort to individualistic trickery, because he explains his point as a duty of care rather than pitting himself against the others, he gets backed up. Senshi agrees that they don't have the supplies to continue, and the orc lady mentions her brethren will return later and can give them support, all of which together breaks down Laios's singleminded devotion to his cause.
Personally I think the manga's better suited to comic timing, but in the anime you can get fleshed out little moments, like Laios's face journey as he realises the other three are making a good case for their survival.
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This was my favourite part so far, and I like how both Chilchuck-centric episodes have separated him from the others. Because he won't reveal anything he's thinking otherwise. lmao
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lyneira · 1 year
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♡ mwah! ♡
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-> how would the twst boys react if you gave them a peck on the lips out of nowhere?
slightly suggestive at a certain part, otherwise, it's mostly fluff as usual!
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Asks why
Vil, Jack, Jade, Lilia, Epel
They're not upset or anything, they're simply curious. What's up? Did you want something? What's with the sudden affection? Are you looking for attention? If so, why didn't you say so? He'd gladly give it. There will be some differences behind the nature of their questions though.
Some of them might be genuinely curious and would like to know what's earning them such affection from you (This would apply to Jack and Epel)
The others will use it as a way to tease you. They'll cheekily ask, "aw, does my sweet y/n want attention? come here", and they'll either give you more smooches or make you work for it, all depending on their mood 😌 (This would apply to Vil, Jade, and Lilia)
Gives you MANY kisses
LEONA, Malleus, FLOYD, Jamil, Che'nya
If you give him a kiss and expect to easily leave without a word, you're terribly wrong. You think you can do something like that and try to escape? Tsk tsk.
Before you can try to retreat, he'll pull you onto his lap and begin kissing you all over, muttering things like "if you're gonna kiss me, do it right". He's 'upset' that you think one small peck was gonna satisfy him, especially since you've interrupted him to do so. Now you have to deal with the consequences. You'll be given the most passionate kisses everywhere and anywhere 😏😘
*.exe has stopped working*
Deuce, IDIA, Silver
Congrats! You've broken them!
You know how the prince had woken up Sleeping Beauty with a kiss? Well you have successfully done the opposite because now these boys can't move a muscle! Their burning cheeks and bewildered stare at you is enough to tell you how much they're freaking out inside.
'WHYDIDTHEYDOTHAT? OHMYGOSHTHEIRLIPS WERESOSOFT Y/N,AREYOUTRYINGTOKILLME?!?'
It's not like you two haven't kissed before, but bear with them, they're just not used to sudden gestures of affection. The best they can do is hug you and hide their flushed face in the softness of your bosom. Pet their head, hold em tight, and they'll melt even further, mumbling a soft,"I love you"
Calls you adorable and gives you a big kiss
Kalim, Ruggie, Cater, Neige, Trey, Rook
These guys will feel the warmth you've put into that kiss and will give it right back. He finds it extremely endearing of you to be so affectionate!
In general, there would almost be a competition of affection between you two. You'll do something sweet and in turn, he'll do something sweet right back. Whether it's through more spontaneous kisses, hugs, or encouraging words, he's not going to allow you to upstage him, he loves you too much
"What was that for?! ...please do it again"
Azul, Riddle, Sebek, Ace, Rollo
Will get flustered once you catch him off guard by bestowing your lips upon his. He'll complain at first like, "I'm busy" or "don't distract me". However, you'll notice that even after a couple of minutes, his blush still hasn't left his cheeks and then he'll finally turn to you, revealing the pleading look in his eyes, "y/n...please do it again". Of course you oblige. How can you resist? He rarely showed this side of him after all.
You can also take this opportunity to tease him a little, but don't overdo it! (or else you'll never be seeing this adorable side of him again) And ensure to make up for your teasing by giving him all the smooches and love he deserves afterwards!
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© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
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