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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year

Note

Could you please make a fic of Wanda and reader. Vision kisses Wanda even though they are broken up. Reader punches Vision and Wanda proves to reader she only loves the reader. Smut at the end bd happy ending please

I'm Yours Too

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!Reader

Words: 9.5k+

Genre: Angst & Smut

Summary: Vision doesn't take the sight of you on his ex girlfriend's arm very well. What was supposed to be a night of Wanda proudly showing off her lovely girlfriend turned into a night that almost broke the both of you. But Wanda isn't one to let you get away so easily.

Warnings: Toxic!Wanda, jealous!Wanda, possessive!Wanda, alcohol use, mentions of cheating but not really (it's a misunderstanding), top!Wanda, bottom!Reader, fingering, strap on use (all r receiving), magic strap, also cum strap with a tiny bit of a breeding kink...

A/N: This doesn't 100% follow your prompt, anon, but it's pretty darn close! Also ha... don't know what came over me with the smut oops. I just really love writing toxic Wanda railing reader I guess....

Agreeing to go to this party was a big mistake. At least that’s what you were beginning to believe as the minutes ticked by and you were still sitting alone at the bar, two and a half drinks down when you thought you’d only have one. But then again, you also thought your girlfriend wouldn’t ditch you for so long to go god knows where.

Crowds weren’t your thing either and Wanda knew that. So when she got invited to Tony’s extravagant party she knew she would have to do some convincing. Luckily for her, she also knew exactly how to get you to agree. Right now, as you sat nervously in a sea of party goers, downing your third drink, you were really regretting how easily you folded.

Your fingers tapped on the bar counter as you considered ordering a fourth since Wanda was still nowhere in sight. The alcohol would calm your nerves hopefully, but the rational side of your brain told you to slow it down. You weren’t drunk, but you definitely weren’t sober either. It might be best to keep yourself as level as you can be while teetering that line between tipsy and drunk. At least until you find Wanda.

It didn’t help that, not only had Wanda ditched you, but the moment you two got there she was preoccupied with whoever was blowing up her phone. You assumed that was why she told you she needed a moment and made her way through the crowd without you. What also added to your frustration was that you couldn’t find a single soul you knew. Natasha had graciously thought to text you to tell you she would be there but was running late. At this point, between waiting for your girlfriend and waiting for your best friend for what you think is about thirty minutes, your patience was wearing thin.

You decided to give it just five more minutes. If you didn’t see Wanda return to your side or Natasha to swoop in and rescue you, then you’d go hunt down your girlfriend. The only thing was now you couldn’t decide if you wanted to drag her back to the bar and then freely let yourself get drunk with her watchful eye on you as you let go of your anxiety or drag her ass back home and into the comfort and safety of your very cozy bed. You were leaning towards the second option.

No matter how many times you checked your phone, it didn’t change the fact that you had no new notifications. Not from Wanda, not from Nat, not from a single person you thought might be at that party. No, the only notification you got was the warning that your phone battery hit 10%. With a heavy sigh, you decided that was the sign to go find someone you knew. Preferably your missing girlfriend, who you were now quite frustrated with.

Pushing yourself off the bar, your eyes set their sights on the exit to the main hall of the party. You’d scour the entire place if you needed to so you could find your girlfriend and hopefully convince her to get the hell out of here. You’d already been scanning the crowd in the main part of the event and you’d definitely caught at least a glimpse of her red hair through the crowd, but alas she was nowhere insight.

With gusto, you pushed through the crowd until you reached the exit of the crowded room and was just met with a few scattered groups of people here and there in the halls leading up to the main event space. You took a deep breath, you might not have been outside necessarily, but at least you were away from all the excitement and the reduced noise was refreshing to you. Quickly, but still carefully as you scanned your surroundings, you made your way through the rest of the building. Still no Wanda. You were getting farther and farther away from the party and deeper and deeper into the more secluded parts of the convention center. Tony really picked a maze to rent out, you thought as you chose random halls to turn and search through.

All the while, you were checking your phone. You had sent more than a few texts to Wanda, each conveying a little more of your frustration than the last. None of those messages went answered, let alone read. What was worse was there was still no sign of Nat. She promised to text you the moment she arrived and you at least trusted her to keep her word, so you knew you at least wouldn’t run into her in these halls.

After a few more turns, you realized the sound of the party’s booming music was now nothing more than a dull hum. You were probably on the complete opposite side of the building. Your hopes in finding Wanda were starting to diminish and for a second you seriously contemplated just calling a car to take you home. But as if by some miracle you finally heard her voice echo down the hall.

Your pace picked up as you followed the sound of her voice. Finally, you could get the hell out of this place. Being left at the party for so long had already made you ready to leave, but having to search through an unfamiliar place for so long meant you weren’t going to budge on that decision. Wanda was going to take you home and there wasn’t going to be any argument about it.

“Wanda, where did you go?” You said as you caught a glimpse of her when rounding the corner of the hall. “I’ve been looking all over for-“ You cut yourself off when she was fully in view. Only she wasn’t alone. Stopping dead in your tracks the scene before you felt like a gut punch. There she was, Wanda, the woman you love, wrapped in the arms of the man she used to be with. Your world felt like it shattered in two seconds.

Neither heard you, but Vision was the first to see you. He pulled from Wanda’s lips to lock eyes with you. His face was devoid of any emotion when he took in your shocked expression. As if he didn’t realize he was taking away the one person you love most in this world. As if what you caught him doing was nothing to him.

Wanda’s reaction was the exact opposite of Visions when their kiss broke, but you didn’t notice. Your eyes locked on the man who was currently all over your girlfriend. You couldn’t begin to look at Wanda, but if you did you would’ve noticed the way her body was absolutely ridged in Vision’s embrace. The moment Wanda realized Vision had pulled away, her hands pressed hard to his chest and she gave a powerful shove. His arms fell from her, but when he didn’t even acknowledge her fuming in front of him, she turned to see where he was staring off to.

And then her heart stopped. The anger Wanda showed towards Vision immediately transformed into concern as her eyes locked onto your face. Wanda knew what this looked like, and it wasn’t good.

Wanda didn’t have to read your mind to understand exactly what you thought this whole ordeal was, she could see it written all over your face. The problem is, it really wasn’t what it looked like.

Wanda had been getting bombarded with messages from Vision from the very minute she arrived with you at Tony’s party. He caught a glimpse of her with you on his arm and it sparked something in him to decide tonight was a night to make a stand. After messages flooded in, Wanda’s mood was souring when she was really hoping to enjoy this night and show you off to everyone as hers and hers alone. Only, she couldn’t do that when she was getting increasingly pissed off with Vision and she was growing concerned he’d make a scene. So, she gave in and abandoned you at the bar to go have what was supposed to be a brief chat. She knew you’d be frustrated by this, but she had hoped she’d be back quick enough to make it up to you. Wanda was incredibly wrong.

Vision and Wanda argued back and forth for well over half an hour. Wanda was clearly standing her ground, but unfortunately so was Vision. When Wanda felt more and more buzzes from her phone as the arguing went on she knew when she returned to your side you’d be pretty angry with her and then there went her evening of parading her girlfriend around proudly for the world to see. So, since the argument with Vision was getting nowhere Wanda tried to cut him off and just walk away. But “tried” is the key word here, because before she knew it he caught her off guard.

Vision was never one to make bold moves. When Wanda was with him, he was always incredibly predictable. It was part of the reason they didn’t work. He was just… boring. There was no spark. But tonight, Vision was a little less predictable than Wanda expected. Before she could turn she found herself pulled back and into his chest and within a blink suddenly she found his cold lips pressed to hers. Immediately, she wanted to retch. The feeling of anyone touching her in any kind of way felt wrong to her, when she found you she knew you were the one she’d been searching for. To even think about being with anyone other than you in any sort of intimate way made her skin crawl, so to have Vision’s lips pressed against hers felt like the most unnatural thing in the world. It made her want to rip his lips off, if she was being totally honest.

Admittedly, it took her a moment to get over the shock of his bold, but incredibly uncalled for actions, but when she did register exactly what was happening that was when the rage set in. That was also, unfortunately, a moment after you saw the scene as it unfolded.

So now, here all three of you were. Vision still oblivious to the rage he caused in Wanda. Wanda was looking at you with a mixture of panic and sympathy, knowing exactly what you must be thinking right now. And then there was you, still just standing there utterly frozen.

Your eyes finally drifted over to where Wanda stood and the look she was giving you made your stomach painfully turn. Wanda’s eyes were glued to you and all you could see in them was extreme guilt. Did she feel guilty she got caught? Did she feel guilty she just witnessed your heart break in front of her? Whatever that guilt was, it suddenly turned your shock into pure anger.

Your mouth opened and closed, trying to find the right words to respond to the shit show in front of you, but then you realized there were none. You wanted to scream and curse and, honestly, knock Vision’s lights out if you even thought that was possible. However, you knew none of that was productive and you also knew if you started screaming you’d also start crying and you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of that. You didn’t want to break yet, not in front of Wanda and especially not in front of Vision.

So, you start to turn around. Your current plan: cut and run. This place is so much of a fucking maze, you were sure you could lose Wanda while you waited for a car to come.

Except, you should’ve known Wanda was faster than you, so when you started to speed walk away she left Vision in the dust to follow right on your heel.

“Wait, fuck, just wait!” Wanda yelled from behind you. You shook your head, there was no way you wanted to hear her out. Your blood was boiling and you could already tell you were two seconds away from losing your cool. You just had to get a fucking car and then you could lose it in the comfort of your own home. “Come on, where are you even going?”

“Away from you,” You said over your shoulder. It was a miracle you were even able to dodge bumping into anyone as you were struggling to escape Wanda and call an Uber at the same time. There were a lot of factors that were making it way too difficult for you to escape a determined Wanda who was aggressively following you. One of the factors was that your hands were shaking so badly you could barely type what you needed to type in order to pick the right destination to get home and another factor was that your phone somehow ended up going from 10% to 1% in the time it took for you to find Wanda in the first place. Right before you were about to hit the button in the app to order your escape car, your screen went black and you stopped in your tracks.

“Fuck!” You howled, half tempted to throw your phone across the hall.

“Let me take you home,” Wanda stopped right behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We can talk.”

You jerked away from her touch as if it burned and when you spun around, seeing that look of guilt again pissed you off even further. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“(Y/N), just come on, let's go to the car.” Wanda’s voice was level, calm even. She was doing her best to be patient and understanding, because she knew what you must be thinking. She would’ve been furious too if the positions were switched. However, the more calm she sounded the more you thought she was being condescending, even if there was no indication of that in her tone. You were just too hurt and angry to really pay attention to much else at the moment.

“I’ll find another way,” You spat. “I don’t want to be near you right now. I can’t even fucking look at you.”

That hit a nerve. For a split second you saw frustration towards you flash on Wanda’s features, but then in a blink it was gone and her composure came back. Wanda didn’t want to spend the night screaming at each other, she was going to at least try to avoid that. If she could calm you down she could explain and start making it up to you, but your behavior was quickly testing her.

“(Y/N), stop it.” Wanda’s voice was more firm as she spoke. “Let’s just go. How are you going to even get home without me? Your phone is dead. What’s your plan?”

“I’ll take her.” The two of you turned to follow the voice and to your relief there came Nat from the other end of the hall.

Natasha had some great fucking timing. You didn’t want to be near Wanda for another second and now finally your best friend was there to save the day. You didn’t even know how she found you in this place, but you were too thankful to even question it.

“Come on,” Nat extended a hand towards you. “I’ll take you home.” She nodded at you encouragingly, soft eyes meeting yours. She didn’t know what this was about, but she didn’t need much context to know that somehow Wanda majorly fucked up. Nat knew it was only a matter of time before that happened. She saw how territorial Wanda was with you and for some reason, Nat never trusted it. So, unfortunately for Wanda, Nat became almost as fiercely protective of you as she was.

“Okay,” You let out a shaky sigh of relief. “Okay, yeah.” You took her hand and that’s when Wanda’s patience was really wearing thin.

“I can take her home,” Wanda stepped in front of Nat quickly before she could pull you away. “We,” Wanda turned her eyes to look at you, “Need to seriously talk.”

“She said she didn’t want to, Wanda.” Nat answered for you. The glare she gave Wanda would make anyone else cower in fear, but directed towards Wanda it only angered her more. “I’m taking her home.”

“And what then?” Wanda challenged. Nat knew exactly what Wanda was implying. As much as you told Nat you reassured Wanda that the thing between you two was platonic, Nat knew Wanda refused to believe you.

“I’m just dropping her off.” Nat didn’t miss a beat, refusing to back down from Wanda’s attempts to intimidate her.

“Sure you are,” Wanda scoffed.

“Wanda!” You interrupted. This was ridiculously and you just wanted to go home. Right now really isn't the time to deal with a fight between the two people who care about you most, or at least who you thought did. “You’re not one to talk and I’m leaving right now.” With that you tugged on Nat’s hand and began to walk in any direction that didn’t lead to Wanda. You’d find your way out of this place somehow, hopefully, but right way or not you didn’t want to look at your girlfriend any longer. “Don’t follow us!” You ordered behind you as you dragged Nat with you.

Wanda stood there and watched you walk away. She wasn’t going to follow you, she already had a better plan. She was going to beat you home. After all, she did have a key to your place. Was it the best plan to corner you and get you to talk? No, Wanda thought this would definitely be a night full of yelling and arguing now, but she didn’t really give a fuck. She wasn’t going to leave Natasha alone with you while you were in this state. No matter what, Wanda just didn’t quite trust Nat with you. Whether Nat realized it herself or not, Wanda knew there was more to her feelings. She watched the way Natasha looked at you, she didn’t need to read her mind to know what her intentions were.

So as soon as the two of you were out of sight, Wanda rushed to her car. She was going to make sure she got there first.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The car ride with Natasha was silent, but you were incredibly thankful for that. You just sat with your eyes glued to the window. The passing scenery not even registering to you, all you saw was that scene of Vision kissing Wanda replaying over and over again. Natasha didn’t question what happened, she knew if you wanted to talk you would. Instead, she just drove, her eyes flicking over to you every once in a while to make sure you were okay.

When you both pulled up to your place, you asked Nat if you could sit in the car for a little bit, not quite ready to walk into your empty home and break down.

“What happened?” Nat tentatively asked, breaking the silence after a few minutes of you just sitting and staring at your front door. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.” She quickly added, trying her best not to push you into doing or saying anything you didn’t want to.

“She kissed Vis.” Your voice was barely a whisper, your hands balling into fists on your lap. Natasha just stared at you for a moment. If she already wasn’t pissed with the scene she witnessed at Tony’s party, now she was furious.

“Whatever you need,” Nat offered, “I’m here.” She knew from your tone you didn’t want to give much more information, so she didn’t press. She just offered you what space she could and waited patiently as you both sat in silence for a few more minutes.

After some time went by, you finally nodded to yourself and started to get out of the car. Nat insisted on walking you in. You didn’t protest much, you understood she was concerned about you. Natasha’s intention was just to give you a moment to collect yourself once you sat at home and give you the opportunity to talk more, cry, whatever you needed. She figured you could tell her then if you wanted her to leave or not, but if you wanted her to stay she’d be the shoulder you needed to cry on.

So she followed you in, but what neither of you noticed was the familiar car parked on the other side of the street .

“I thought she was just going to drop you off.” You heard the voice in the dark the minute you and Nat walked in the door. It startled the hell out of you, but Nat just seemed unphased. She was somewhat expecting this behavior from Wanda. Natasha had hoped you two would make it time, so she could protect you while you did what you needed to heal from whatever pain Wanda caused. Obviously, that wasn’t going to be how the rest of tonight played out.

Reaching over, you flipped the lights on only to see Wanda sitting on the couch, arms folded over her chest and clear irritation written all over her face. You expected Wanda to chase after you, but you didn’t expect her to let herself into your place or to even beat you to it. Right now, you were really regretting giving her a key.

“How did you get here before us?” Was the only thing you could think to say as you stared at the one person you really didn’t want to be looking at right now.

“I should be asking you why it took you so long.” Wanda said, clearly still annoyed by Natasha’s presence. Meanwhile, Nat was just standing beside you, her arms folded just like Wanda’s, with a matching annoyed expression on her face. “What were you two doing in the car for so long?” You didn’t miss what Wanda was insinuating and you didn’t like it one bit.

“We were talking.” Natasha answered for you. “I was comforting her.” Wanda’s lips twitched at that and you knew Nat just hit a nerve. You bit your lip to stop the taunting smirk you wanted to give Wanda. Anything that pissed Wanda off felt a little like a small victory. She was jealous? Good, you thought, now she had the smallest taste of how you were feeling.

“I’m sure you were,” Wanda gave a tight lipped smile. “But we need to talk so I suggest you leave now.”

“I’m not leaving until she asks me to.” You looked at Nat in awe as she held her ground, not even phased by the brewing rage that showed in Wanda’s eyes. She stood by you, unwavering in her resolve. “I think it’s you who should leave.”

“Oh do you?” Wanda scoffed. “I’m not leaving. She’s my girlfriend, or have you both forgotten?”

“I think you’re the one that forgot that, Wanda.” You finally speak, fists clenching as you stand practically shaking. How dare she try to be territorial after she did what she did? You weren’t going to stand for this or for the way she was treating Nat. “And I agree with Nat. You should go.”

Wanda’s eyes left Nat’s for a moment and when they reached you, you could almost see them soften. She could tell you were hurting, could tell you were confused. All she wanted to do was clear the air, reassure you that what you saw was a misunderstanding that she doesn’t and would never want Vision in the way she wanted you. If she could just talk to you without Natasha’s frustrating presence then everything would be okay, she was sure of it. It would take some convincing, but you’d understand. She’d make you understand.

But then, Nat placed her hand on your waist and something inside Wanda snapped. You saw her eyes zero in on the contact Natasha made with you and you didn’t miss the way her eye practically twitched as anger began to rise yet again. “I’m not leaving.” Wanda held her ground. She was sure as hell not going to let you be alone, vulnerable and hurting with someone like Natasha to come prey on your current state. Wanda wasn’t a fool, she could practically picture what would happen. “Not until we talk. Alone.”

You looked from Wanda to Nat. On the one hand, you really wanted your closest friend to stay by your side, on the other hand you could imagine things would get ugly if Nat were to stay. It was clear, Wanda really wasn’t going to leave until you two talked. Either way, you imagined things would get ugly, but at least you could save yourself a little bit from even more embarrassment by having Natasha avoid the total blow up that you knew was bound to happen.

“It’s okay, Nat.” You heard yourself say before you could really register your decision. “I’ll be okay, why don’t you head home?”

Nat’s jaw clenched as she glared at Wanda for a moment before looking back at you. “Are you sure?” You felt her hand squeeze your waist gently where it rested and all you saw in your friend’s eyes was concern. “I don’t have to-”

“She said she wanted you to head home.” Wanda cut her off, stalking towards the two of you.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Nat spit, not even bothering to look over at Wanda as she came closer. “I can stay,” she reassured you.

You shook your head. Wanda was two seconds away from making this even worse than it already was. You weren’t entirely sure what Wanda would do to Nat, and you knew Nat could hold her own, but you also didn’t necessarily want to test any of that. “It’s okay, really.” You placed your hand over the hand Nat still had resting on your shoulder. “If anything happens,” You said in a hushed voice. “I’ll call you.”

“Please do,” Natasha urged. She looked back between you and where Wanda stood. Thankfully Wanda stopped just a few feet from you both, seemingly satisfied for now that Natasha was agreeing to leave. She felt triumphant that clearly, even when upset with her, you knew to choose her in situations like this. If she wasn’t still so concerned with getting through to you, she would be gloating at the fact that you chose her. Of course, she had no doubt that you wouldn’t. You were hers and she knew that you knew that. Then again, she also thought you would never believe so easily that she would just willingly touch and be touched by another, not when you two were so clearly in love. But then, here you both were.

You gave Natasha one more nod of reassurance and Nat just looked back at you, hesitant to take her eyes off you for even a second, but the tap of Wanda’s foot told her if she didn’t leave things would escalate even further fast. So, with great hesitation, she turned from you, giving you one last concerned look before heading out the door and closing it behind her.

It was silent for a moment. Your eyes were glued to the door Natasha had just walked out of and Wanda’s were glued to you. Neither of you knew how to start, but you knew if you started you’d just dig in. You were hurting and two seconds away from starting an all out war with Wanda, but you also knew that wouldn’t be productive. If you were being honest, the only thing you wanted to do now that Nat was gone was crawl into bed and sob your eyes out.

“(Y/N), it wasn’t what it looked like.” Wanda finally broke the silence, taking another step towards you.

You just scoffed and walked past her to the bedroom, making sure to not-so-gently brush her shoulder as you passed. If you two were going to have this fight you needed a minute. At least you wanted to change out of your party clothes. “That’s a cliche,” You said over your shoulder as you walked into the bedroom. Wanda just stood there stunned for a moment, not used to getting the cold treatment from you. It was quickly beginning to irritate her.

Turning on her heels, Wanda was right behind you in a matter of moments, following you straight into the bedroom. “It wasn’t,” Wanda insisted, watching as you walked into your closet and began to pull out different clothes.

“I’ve heard this all before,” You called from the closet as you dug for more comfortable clothes. “I know this story. I was just stupid to think…” You stopped and shook your head before gathering your clothes. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear it, Wanda. I honestly still want you to leave.”

“Just let me explain,” Wanda sighed, sitting herself down on your bed while she waited for you to come back out of the closet. With clothes in your hand, your eyebrow quirked as you saw her get comfortable. Something about the image of Wanda in your room, on your bed, after you saw what you saw was making you feel more bitter. It made you think back to the kiss you witnessed and made you wonder how many times Wanda was in his bed since being with you.

“Get up and turn around.” You commanded as you stood right outside of your closet.

“What?” Wanda eyed you curiously. “Why?”

“I’m going to change.”

“I’ve seen you naked before,” Wanda deadpanned.

Yes, she certainly has, but the idea of her seeing you like that now made your stomach churn. Being vulnerable like that with her was a privilege you gave to her when you thought she was only being that intimate with you. Now, though, everything has changed. “I don’t care.” Your tone was harsh. “Get Up. Turn Around.”

Wanda stared you down for a moment. You just stared back with exasperation and Wanda realized you wouldn’t budge on this. With a loud and dramatic huff, she got up from where she sat herself on your bed and turned as you began to pull off your party clothes and slip into something more comfortable.

It didn’t sit right with Wanda that you had her turn around. It was one little crack in her hopeful plan to convince you. It was a sign that you were slipping from her and the thought of that sent anxiety creeping up her spine. She tried to tell herself it was just your way of punishing her for the scene you saw. Once you understood it would be okay, she told herself. It had to be okay.

“You can turn around now.” You said and immediately Wanda jumped at the opportunity to look at you again. She hoped that if you saw the sincerity in her eyes you’d be convinced faster that she wasn’t cheating on you, but when she saw you look at her with nothing but an aloof expression, she was worried it wouldn’t be so easy. Not only that, but she was already struggling to keep her composure with your stubborn attitude.

“Can we talk now?” Wanda was trying so hard to be gentle about this. She knew she had already lost her cool a few times tonight, especially with Natasha, and that wasn’t going to win her any points but she still really just needed you to hear what happened.

“Talk.” You muttered, standing in front of Wanda with your arms crossed, trying to appear as closed off from her as possible. Wanda felt that crack in her hopes and composure once more, but she shook it off for a second and took the opportunity you were giving her.

“Vision kissed me.” Wanda started. “I didn’t kiss him.”

You just rolled your eyes at that. One thing you knew for sure if you were to even consider believing Wanda was that you were going to need more explanation than that to make this all okay. Even then how stupid did Wanda take you for? Vision might have kissed her, but she wasn’t the one to pull back either.

“Mhm, and that still makes it okay how?”

“I didn’t kiss him!” Wanda exclaimed in frustration. “It wasn’t me who did that!”

“Yeah, but you didn’t stop him either did you?” Wanda’s patience wasn’t the only one’s who was running up. You already didn’t want to hear her excuses tonight and she was doing a horrible job at convincing you of tonight’s fiasco being about anything other than selfish actions by two people to hurt you.

“I was shocked,” Wanda sighed, knowing that she was sounding less convincing by the second, but still she wasn’t going to let this go. She wasn’t about to lose you. “He caught me off guard and it took me a minute to react. Didn’t you see me shove him away? Didn’t you see how angry I was?”

“Yeah, you only did that after you both realized I got there.” You scoffed.

“No,” Wanda shook her head adamantly. “No, I didn’t know you were there.”

“Sure.” You really weren’t buying any of this. Even if it was true that she wasn’t expecting the kiss, that she didn’t want it, there was something still nagging at you. “Why did you even leave me to go see him in the first place?”

“I just wanted a nice night,” Wanda offered. “He wanted to talk, so I agreed and thought after we could get on with our evening.”

“You left me alone for over thirty fucking minutes, Wanda!” All of these excuses Wanda was giving you felt like it was belittling the hurt you felt. You knew you hadn’t really let her talk long but you were already tired of hearing all of it. You were tired of this conversation and you were about done. “Why didn’t you even think to tell me it was him you were going to meet? Do you know how suspicious that looks?”

“I know, I know!” Wanda pleaded. “But there’s nothing going on between us. You have to believe me.”

“How?” You sneered. “How am I supposed to believe you? Obviously, there’s something going on. Otherwise he wouldn’t have kissed you.”

“(Y/N), there’s not and you know it. You’re just too angry to listen to reason.” Wanda took a step closer to you, trying her best to get through to you with as much patience as she could muster after this trying evening. “You just need to calm down and-”

“Don’t.” You seethed. “Don’t tell me what I need to do. What you need to do, Wanda, is leave. Now. I’m done talking for the night.” That was it, you had it for one evening. Wanda accusing your emotions of skewing your perspective may have been right but it wasn’t what you wanted to hear right now. You didn’t really want to hear anything, you didn’t even want to talk tonight but here you were. On your part, you thought you heard her out way more than she deserved for the night. Especially when you felt like you made it clear you didn’t have much interest in doing this tonight in the first place.

“I’m not leaving.” Wanda held her ground in front of you. You two just stayed there for a moment, staring. Your expression challenging her to back down, hers daring you to push her further. Your fists clenched and unclenched as you tried to figure out your next move and then it dawned on you. If she wasn’t going to leave you were. And since you were beyond hurt and angry, you knew you leaving her there alone to soak in the mess she made was perfect punishment for the pain she caused you.

Without a word you turned and started rushing around the room, gathering a few things you’d need for an overnight stay elsewhere. Wanda constantly questioned you as she watched you scurry around the room, but she didn’t stop you just yet. She had hope you’d stop and come to your senses before you got too far. All you did was dodge her questions and keep on moving. You hadn’t exactly figured out where you’d go for the night, but if she wasn’t going to leave you weren’t going to stay and you were pretty sure you’d figure out where to go once you actually got out away from Wanda. With clothes stuffed in your arms and your keys in hand, you thought the only good thing about this situation was the anger and shock had sobered you up very quickly. You had a few drinks at the party, but that isn't affecting you as much anymore. The one thing that might affect your driving was the threat of tears that might spill once you were completely alone. It was a risk worth taking, you told yourself, because one more moment next to Wanda and you were going to break down in front of her. That was still something you wanted to avoid.

You reached the door, your hands still full as you struggled to turn the knob and open it. In two quick strides Wanda was right behind you, her hand reaching in front of you to slam the door shut the minute you had it barely cracked. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” She hissed through clenched teeth. Obviously, you hadn’t come to your senses in time so she realized she had to step in and stop you before you did something reckless.

“If you’re not going to leave, then I guess I will.” You turned slowly, trying to glare Wanda down and not show any sort of reaction to the anger burning in her eyes.

“Where will you go then, huh? To Nat’s?” Wanda practically spit Natasha’s name out her mouth as she spoke. “What so Vision kisses me and now you’re going to go fuck your buddy?”

Your eyes widened in shock at that. “What are you even talking about, Wanda?” You had always known Wanda was a jealous person and she was definitely not subtle about her disdain for Natasha, but you didn’t actually think she’d accuse you of that. Then again, you also didn’t think she’d cheat on you with Vision, but here you two were. “There’s nothing between me and Nat, but you’d think that wouldn’t you? Paranoid about us? Makes sense, if you’re seeing Vision behind my back of course you’d be worried I’d be doing the same thing with someone else.”

“I told you,” Wanda said through gritted teeth. “Vision kissed me. I am not with him.”

“Why didn’t you pull back? Why were you in his arms? It didn’t look like that!” You asked again, daring her to give you a better answer. Actually no, you didn’t want to give her another opportunity for a shitty excuse, you just really wanted to leave. It was just hard to actually do that when Wanda still had a firm hand on the door, keeping it shut as she cornered you between her arms. “Well, Wanda, you can go be with Vision. I don’t care! I don’t care who you fuck and you don’t have any right to care if I go out and fuck Natasha.” Not like you would, but at this point you just wanted her to feel the hurt you were feeling. “I’m leaving.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” Wanda’s voice wasn’t a yell anymore. It was low, dangerous, and threatening. You did manage to hurt her, but even worse, you managed to make her absolutely rage too. Wanda’s hands left the door and quickly went to either side of your waist, her nails digging into your skin through your shirt as she not so gently pushed you against the door. “Do I need to remind you that you’re mine?”

Your jaw clenched, your anger has already obviously gotten the better of you, but now it’s gotten the better of Wanda too. She got angry, sure, but she was always careful around you. She had good control of it, at least usually. She knew that if she went off around you it could scare you, and that was the last thing she wanted. So she reined it in for you, but now you were threatening to go be with someone else? She couldn’t have that. All of this started because of Vision and Wanda silently made a promise to herself to take care of him at a later date, but right now she needed you to understand just how badly you fucked up now. And as you watched Wanda seeth in front of you, you were beginning to regret those words.

“Wanda, you don’t just get to own me and go fuck around with Vision.”

“For the last fucking time I am not!” Wanda’s words echoed throughout the room. Her eyes swirled with red magic and you knew that was a sign that Wanda was very quickly losing any ounce of control she had left. The red in her eyes burned like fire as she stared you down. You felt her fingers dig harder into your skin as she held you and you could tell she was trembling at this point too. She was beyond control now as she had you pinned to the door. “And I do own you,” Wanda hissed before pressing herself fully to you.

You grunted at the feeling of her pressing you impossibly close to the door. Your hands went up to her shoulders to shove at them, to try to get her to back off, but it was like she didn’t even notice. Which, that would make sense considering you knew Wanda was much stronger than you. Wanda leaned in so close to you that you felt her breath ghost your lips and in any other moment you would’ve been weak at the knees, but with the way the look in her eyes was completely unhinged, her close proximity only made you gulp.

“I have never,” she put as much emphasis on each word as she spoke, “been with Vision since I met you.” Wanda was speaking in a whisper now, but you didn’t miss the way her lips twitched in anger. You also didn’t miss the way you felt Wanda pin you more with her body than her hands and then you realized it was her way of being able to move them freely without the risk of you running.

One of her hands moved up until she was gripping your chin while the other started to snake down your body. With her hold on you, you couldn’t look away even if you wanted to, but that wasn’t your main concern. Your main concern was the feeling of Wanda popping the button of your pants open. “Wanda…” This time all the anger left your voice and the only emotion it had in it was fear. This wasn’t something you wanted to happen with Wanda. She was always loving and gentle with you. You weren’t used to this side of her. Wanda had talked to you about the darker sides of her, but you never imagined you would see it full force, but now here you were. And you were honestly a little bit to blame. You pushed her buttons, you wanted to hurt her and hurt her you did. It should’ve been obvious that Wanda’s response to hurt wouldn’t be the best.

“You’re mine, (Y/N),” Wanda whispered before turning your chin with her hand, letting your neck be exposed to her. “But don’t worry… I’m yours too.” WIth that you felt Wanda’s teeth sink into your neck and the hands that were once trying to push her away grabbed fist fulls of her shirt.

“Wanda!” You tried to sound firm but your voice quivered as you spoke, obviously affected by the way Wanda’s teeth dragged down your skin, even if you didn’t want to be right now. You knew, you should probably try harder, but it was also Wanda and her touch always broke your resolve. Except, you were still hurting and not sure how much you believed Wanda even if she said she was yours, even if she said she wasn’t with Vision. You wanted to believe her, which might be why you weren’t exactly trying that hard to protest her touch, but then you felt her hand begin to slip into your panties and you knew you had to shut it down.

“Wanda, I don’t want this,” your voice was quiet, but firm. And that’s all it took for Wanda to utterly freeze. You both were breathing hard for a moment, Wanda’s body still pinning you to the door as you both stood there. As much as Wanda wanted to prove her point, stake her claim on you, she would never do it against your will. She lost herself and suddenly her blood ran cold as she took in just how badly she lost control. The thought of you being with someone else, that made her blood boil, but you not wanting to be hers anymore? That made her terrified.

You were the bright light in her life that she was missing for so long. You were someone Wanda was waiting for and she never even knew it. She had tried with Vision, had tried to make things work, but try as she might there was always something missing. That is, until you smiled at her, your eyes filled with nothing but innocent admiration for her. It took just one smile from you and suddenly Wanda’s whole world lit up. The thought of not having that anymore was unfathomable to her. You were the source of her happiness, the air she breathed, all Wanda knew since the moment she met you was, well, you. She couldn’t lose you, but she’d be damned if she ever actually hurt you. And fuck she came so close…

Wanda’s hands immediately moved, but they didn’t let go of you. This time they found their way back to your waist and her head moved back to look you in the eye again. Immediately, you knew you got through to her, but you also knew she was two seconds from breaking too. “I was not with Vision.” Wanda said this more firmly. No more anger in her voice, but still it was filled with utter conviction. “I wasn’t. I’m sorry that I… That I almost- but I wasn’t. I was not with Vision.”

“Okay,” you nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.”

“I’m yours, I couldn’t be anyone else’s.” In that moment you really believed her. After all the anger had passed you could finally see it. Just as you couldn’t have fathomed Wanda doing something like that before you saw what you saw, she couldn’t fathom doing something like that to you either. “I. Am. Yours.”

“I know,” You whispered, your hands finally relaxing on her shoulders. “I believe you.”

Wanda sighed for a moment, but you could tell she was still waiting for something. She still had a tight grip on you and she wasn’t going to be letting go any time soon, but you knew it was out of fear this time and not anger. There were words she wanted to hear, but she had already pushed too much, already made a huge mess of things. The way she almost took what you weren’t willing to give, she couldn’t overstep again or she knew it wouldn’t end well for the both of you, if there still was something between the both of you.

“I’m yours too.” Wanda’s eyes searched yours as you spoke. She wanted to make sure this wasn’t said out of fear, especially considering how she was acting just moments ago, she wouldn’t be surprised if you were lying to protect yourself. But you weren’t, she could see it in your eyes. You looked sad, yes, but you weren’t scared when you said those words. Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know that, not that she ever would. She might have lost control, but she would never violate you like that or in any other way, despite how close she had come. She still stopped when you said no, she still resisted the urge to read your thoughts when you were pushing back so hard.

Wanda took a deep breath. “I can’t lose you,” she said, her voice quiet as she spoke. Her head pressed against yours, unable to look into your eyes as she tried to get out her one request. “Please, don’t go to Natasha’s tonight.”

“I won’t,” You whispered, your hand reaching up to cup her cheek. “I’ll stay, okay?”

Wanda didn’t say anything, you just felt her nod before her lips pressed gently against yours. This kiss was filled with emotion, filled with love and longing. You knew she was trying to show you she wouldn’t hurt you again in the kiss, but you also knew she was struggling to hold back her need to confirm you were really hers. Your hands moved and wove into her hair and you pulled her body closer to yours yet again. You were still trapped between Wanda and the door, but this time you didn’t mind. The hands that had already popped the buttons of your pants open were still at your waist, but as the kiss deepened you felt them begin to drift back to where they once were. Only this time, you were more than happy to let Wanda’s hands roam.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you,” Wanda whispered against your lips.

“It’s okay,” You said between kisses. “It’s okay.” Your grip on her hair was tighter as the kiss shared between you two grew more desperate. There was an unspoken understanding of what Wanda needed and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need it too. She needed to prove to you that you belonged to hers, and you needed her to touch you in a way you knew was only reserved for you.

Wanda’s hands slid straight into your panties and with the way she was kissing you and even the way her teeth marked your neck before, you were already wet for her. When Wanda’s fingers brushed against your clit to collect your wetness, she immediately felt that surge of pride and possession she got from touching you. She knew only she could have this part of you, only she could make you feel this way and touch you in this way. That fact alone had Wanda eager to take all you’d give.

Wanda’s lips moved to your neck once again and when you felt her teeth drag along your skin you couldn’t stop the quiet whine that left your lips. You were driving Wanda crazy and she already had so much possessive energy she needed to pour into you, so she didn’t waste any time. Without much warning, you feel Wanda slide her fingers down between your folds before two of them dipedp into you.

Your hands clench impossibly tighter into her hair and she didn’t hesitate to start a steady rhythm. It doesn’t take long for moans to fall from your lips and Wanda thinks they are music to her ears. She’s drunk off your reactions and off the way you clench around her fingers when she hits the spot she knows you love. All of this feels so much more intense after the night you two had, after Wanda almost lost you and after you thought Wanda wasn’t yours. Now you both know, there’s no one who could take you two away from each other. Wanda was yours and by some miracle you were still hers. Not Natasha’s, not anyone’s, only Wanda’s.

The thought of that spurred Wanda’s movements more, pumping her fingers harder into you. Your hands left her hair to steady yourself on her shoulders, your nails digging into her skin. It was getting difficult for you to stand up straight, what with the way Wanda was pressing her hips into yours with every pump of her fingers and how your pants and panties had both somehow fallen down your legs enough to give Wanda more ease in fucking you.

If Wanda was drunk off your reactions, you were absolutely lost in her touch. The way her fingers felt inside you, the way her tongue felt on your skin. You didn’t even mind that in the morning your neck would be covered with visible marks, the sting of her teeth sinking into your neck too tantalizing to care about much else in the moment. You felt that tight pull in the pit of your stomach that indicated you were fast approaching the edge, but Wanda wasn’t quite done yet.

“I want to feel you cum around my cock,” Wanda growled against your neck, her fingers pulling out without warning.

You were already too lost in your own pleasure to really realize anything she was saying but the minute you lost contact your confusion overtook you. “Wanda what? What do you- Fuck!” Wanda didn’t waste any time, magicking her pants away and a strap between her legs. It took her two seconds to line it up with your entrance and replace her fingers with it.

The back of your head hit the door the moment you felt her sheath it inside you. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as she ground herself into you to get herself as deep as possible. And then she hoisted up one of your legs, hooking it over her waist so her cock could go ever deeper inside you. The whole time, her iron grip and unwavering strength held you steady as she just pressed herself into you, enjoying the feeling of reaching deeper than she ever had before, deeper than you think you’ve ever taken anyone before. Wanda did that for a moment, enjoying the way your walls squeezed her cock. But then it wasn’t enough and with a growl she pulled out and started fucking you with abandon. You two had tried using a strap-on before, but this was definitely a new one. Wanda couldn’t help the pride she felt at your ease in taking all of her despite the size and the aggression in the way she was pumping herself inside you.

You didn’t think she’s ever fucked you like this. No, you knew this was new. She was always gentle, always making sure her touch was controlled and loving. This wasn’t the same, her touch was more possessive than it ever had been, all consuming. You had hit a nerve, you had threatened to not be hers, and now she needed to prove to you that you belonged to her, heart, mind, and especially body.

The sounds of your hips hitting the door with each time Wanda pushed her own into yours sounded all throughout the room. With each moment Wanda pushed into you she let out a groan and you understood that her magic somehow allowed her to feel everything she was doing. Her nails dug into the thigh that was hooked to her waist and her other flew to your throat, pressing down just enough to drive you wild but not enough to bring fear.

You, for the most part, were just trying to take Wanda’s cock in the best way you could, moaning her name, chanting fuck when she began to speed up. It was all overwhelming in the best way and you knew Wanda could feel your thighs shake as she drew you closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel good.” Wanda grunted in your ear as she continued to pump her cock into you. “So fucking good. Fuck fuck!” Wanda’s pace became erratic and the hand that was pressed to your throat flexed as she avoided temptation to press down harder.

All you could do was moan as your hands grabbed at Wanda to keep yourself upright. You could tell by the force of Wanda’s hips pushing into yours that you’d have bruises, but you couldn’t begin to care with how good it felt to have Wanda’s cock buried in you.

“I’m going to cum,” Wanda groaned. “Fuck, I want to fill you with my cum.” Wanda’s cock slammed into you and you could tell by her trembling body that she was incredibly close. “I’m going to cum inside you.”

As Wanda kept fucking herself inside you came out of your haze just slightly to question what she meant. Curious if it was something said at the heat of the moment or something Wanda actually meant. “Wanda what do you mean- oh fuck.” And suddenly you got your answer. Wanda cried out and you felt hot spurts of Wanda’s cum fill you from the inside. As her faux cock still moved inside you, you felt her continue to fuck her cum deeper inside you and the sensation was too much for you to take, you yourself falling apart on her cock just seconds after.

Wanda slumped forward, her forehead pressed to yours as you both tried to catch your breath. You felt her cum drip down your thigh when Wanda finally let your leg fall from her waist, but you weren’t recovered enough to move from the door and clean yourself up yet.

“You’re mine,” Wanda whispered before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Don’t ever forget that.”

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#wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel fic #top!wanda #wlw fic #five-bi-five-mind

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mamawasatesttube · 3 months

Note

#25 for the gentle prompts, maybe? :D

25. "You can sit on my lap."

By the fifth time Tim shifts his weight, leans on his staff, and heaves a sigh more explosive than Mount St. Helens, Kon has just about had it. The stubborn set to Tim's jaw means he doesn't want Kon to point out that he's clearly tired, but also, uh, the idiot is clearly tired, and it's getting a little ridiculous.

"Rob."

Tim holds up an imperious finger. "Don't say anything. I'm fine."

Kon rolls his eyes. "We're probably gonna be stuck up here for stakeout purposes for, like, at least another hour or two. You might as well make it easier on both of us."

Tim gives him a mildly dirty look. It's probably supposed to be worse than mildly dirty, but despite himself, Tim hasn't been able to stop looking at Kon with, like, heart eyes, ever since his resurrection and return. Even when they're bickering like they did as kids. It... it gets Kon, sometimes. He tries not to think about it too hard.

"I'm fine," Tim repeats stubbornly. He folds his arms over his chest and stares down at the warehouse they're watching. "I'm fully capable of finishing the stakeout."

Oh, for the love of—

Kon leans over and bonks him on top of his cowled head. "Yeah, I wasn't disputing that, dumbass."

Tim stiffens for a second. Then he heaves another huge sigh, his shoulders slumping. "...Sorry," he mutters, scuffing one boot against the wet rooftop; a pebble goes skittering off towards the edge. "I, uh... sometimes get all defensive and kinda grouchy when I'm tired."

Both amused and endeared, Kon snorts. "Yeah, trust me, I've noticed." He lightly tugs at Tim's cape. "You've been on your feet for hours. Why not sit for a bit at least?"

Tim glances down at the wet rooftop and makes a face. It's been raining on and off since afternoon faded into evening, and Kon has to concede the point; stakeout or not, that's not the coziest place to chill. Sitting in a puddle might mean Tim's poor ass gets hypothermic—literally, his ass. Yikes.

Well, easy solution. Kon hops up onto an invisible recliner and leans back comfortably, then holds out his arms. "C'mere. You can sit in my lap."

For the second time in as many minutes, Tim freezes for half a heartbeat. Kon can hear his heart rate kick up a notch, can hear the breath catch in his throat, can hear his eyelashes brush the insides of the lenses in his cowl as he blinks rapidly.

Even behind the cowl, the look on his face is still as fond as ever. It does things to Kon's heart, too, if he's being honest.

"...Yeah, okay," Tim says. It's several seconds too late to be casual, but both of them politely don't acknowledge that.

Kon tugs him into his lap, winds his arms around his waist, and wraps his TTK around him for extra security. Tim sighs again, softer this time. He's stiff for a moment, but when Kon doesn't start screaming about cooties or whatever, he relaxes incrementally, muscle by muscle. Finally, after several heartbeats, his head comes to rest against Kon's.

Oh, Kon thinks. Oh.

This is nice.

Oh, no.

"Um. Thanks," Tim mutters. His heart is definitely beating faster. His fingers curl into Kon's jacket. Fuck, Kon likes that—he likes that a lot. Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no.

"Anytime, Rob," he answers, way more casually than Tim managed, if he does say so himself. "Make yourself comfy. You barely weigh anything to me anyways."

"Mn." Tim goes quiet, but after a moment, he does slip his arm around Kon's shoulders, and... that's really nice, too.

"I guess we should keep watching for our guy to come out of there, huh." Kon forces his attention away from Tim and back down to the warehouse. They're on a mission here. He can't just get distracted by... by... canoodling.

"Yeah," Tim agrees, and—is Kon imagining it, or is there a note of reluctance somewhere deep down in his voice? "I guess we should."

#answers #kobopz #timkon #bit of pining from the slow melt :) i love when they melt into dating without noticing it i really do #tim #kon #rimi writes

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megistusdiary · 1 year

Note

MMMMM idk if you write for al haitham— if you don’t ignore this request idm 🙏

anyways if you do write for him,, what about al haitham x fem!reader where someone breaks reader’s heart (kaveh perhaps for the drama) al haitham and reader are best friends and they’ve both had tension between them forever so he offers a little help ☝️ all consensual obviously we love consent here

yes ik this is like my one kaeya ask but i love this trope sm 😭😭

-🔮

oh, i absolutely will write for alhaitham hahaha. he is literally so mf fine idc idc 😇🙏

on my knees for him he is so 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️ checks all my boxes

anyways yes, yes, imagine this happening back during his akademiya days oo

but this shit straight up 90% unsexy plot sorry. just wrote this all in one sitting, shawties

warnings: dom!alhaitham and sub!fem anatomy/pronouns reader

friends to lovers, fingering/penetration (sub!receiving), ex kaveh (mentions of cheating sorta), confessions, kissing

you sat beside alhaitham at the library, clicking the top of your pen repeatedly until alhaitham exhaled sharply.

"sorry." you mumbled, setting the pen down as you read over your assignment again.

when your professor announced who the partners for this project would be, it seemed half the class was jealous while half pitied you for being partnered with alhaitham.

you felt like the archons had personally blessed you, however, finally being partnered with the man you considered your best friend.

some might argue it was impossible for alhaitham to ever have a 'best friend. the friendship bracelet matching the one on your wrist that he kept in his pocket begged to differ.

you glanced over at alhaitham, watching him flip through textbooks, letting his eyes barely even graze over the words before turning the pages.

"are you actually trying to learn anything, or just say you looked at the pages as you flipped them?"

"ha ha." alhaitham droned, tone devoid of emotion as he closed the book. "i don't see you making much progress."

"that's because i'm taking the time to actually absorb what i'm reading."

"hmph." alhaitham turned away, sifting through his pile of parchment notes. "we should finish this today. i do not want-"

"woah, woah, hold on." you stopped him, waving your hand in the air. "today? the semester ends next month." you protested. "i actually have other things to do today, you know."

"so do i. it just seems one of us is more efficient than the other." alhaitham scoffed as you rolled your eyes.

"yeah, yeah." you frowned, letting your head flop onto your hand.

"what other things are you doing today, anyways?"

"what? oh, i mean. i'm supposed to go on a date. today." your face felt warm as alhaitham cocked his head, intrigued yet slightly annoyed.

"oh. right. with kaveh."

"he told you about it?"

"i don't know why you're shocked. we live together."

"fair enough. but, yes, that's my very important thing."

"what about the others?"

"huh?" your eyes flitted down to watch alhaitham write down notes about the book he was reading, print perfectly straight and legible.

"you said important things. plural."

"oh." you paused, watching his fingers stop moving as he set his pen down. "i guess more studying as per usual."

"where's kaveh taking you?"

your eyes narrowed as he glanced over at you. "why the sudden interest in my love life?" your heart skipped a beat when alhaitham's eyes met yours.

"fine, no more questions. let's get back to business." alhaitham quickly turned back to his book, leaving you with a heated face and mixed emotions.

truth be told, you did like kaveh, but you also had liked alhaitham for years. no matter how many hints you dropped, though, alhaitham always seemed to dodge them.

and maybe that was the hint meant for you to stop pursuing him.

you had met kaveh earlier in the year. alhaitham never had guests over, so you always spent time at your place. you only ever got to speak to kaveh due to discovering you studied in the same place between classes. one crowded morning, you found yourself sitting together due to a lack of space. and the rest was history.

alhaitham never failed to make your heart flutter with anything he did. despite his witty remarks and snappy comments, he was a gentleman at heart. he always brought you an extra jacket if it was cold, prepared snacks for you, brought you more parchment before you could run out. he was always attentive, even without trying to be.

kaveh was much more easy-going, dropping flirty remarks in all of your conversations. he was very direct about his interest in you, though you were blissfully unaware of his habits to flirt with many people at once.

the rest of the study session carried on in silence, leaving you to finish writing your notes sloppily, hand cramping and exhausted as you slammed your pen down. "okay, i'm tapping out. it's getting late, and i need to go get changed." you told him as he hummed.

"how far did you get?"

"i'm done with page 8." you frowned, turning towards him slowly. "don't even think about making a 'i'm on page 15' comment."

alhaitham's lips quirked up in a faint, yet rare smile that made you smile back shyly. "i'll see you tomorrow."

"i hope your...dinner is pleasant." was all he said, turning back to finish writing his notes as you sighed.

"promise me you're not going to stay here all night. go home and get some rest. you work too hard sometimes, you make me all worried."

alhaitham scoffed, shaking his head. "it's not that i choose not to sleep."

your eyebrows arched at his remark, though he made no further comment, prompting you to collect your things and rush home to change for your date.

you couldn't help but admit you were excited. you had the perfect outfit planned, twirling in front of the mirror to admire it from all angles. and you were ready just in time, hearing three knocks on your door as you announced you were coming to get the door.

"kaveh!" you smiled, gesturing for him to come in.

"ready to go?" kaveh asked, adjusting his hair in the mirror as you grabbed your bag and shoes.

"yeah! sorry i'm running late." you apologized, slipping your shoes on and locking the door behind the two of you. "alhaitham and i are partners for this project, and he wanted to do a bunch today, and i think i can't read anymore."

kaveh laughed, eyes full of mirth. "sounds just like him. typical."

"so, where are we going?"

"you'll see." he smiled down at you, leading the way to a small cafe down the street. "found this place when alhaitham took my key and i couldn't get in to our house." kaveh laughed, opening the door for you.

once the two of you were seated, a waiter approached you rather quickly, greeting kaveh like a close friend. "the usual?" he asked as kaveh nodded. he scribbled something down on his notepad before turning to you.

your eyes widened, trying to take in the menu all at once before kaveh offered to order for you. "trust me, everything's good here, but i'll order the best. you'll love it."

while waiting for the orders, you noticed a few girls passing by on the street, some older couples, and even some stray kitties.

you did not expect someone to stand over your table and eagerly greet kaveh.

"hi, kaveh!"

you jumped, turning to see a girl your age at the table, smiling down at him as he sent her a smirk. "hey, long time no see."

"yeah, it has been pretty long, huh? funny seeing you here."

your eyes flitted in between them, brows furrowed as you took in their conversation. why hadn't she asked about you?

"um, excuse me-"

"can i help you?" she asked, cocking a brow as you frowned.

"we're in the middle of a date...right now..."

she rolled her eyes, shrugging. "okay? kaveh and i went on one like last week."

"what?" you turned towards kaveh who simply nodded. "kaveh, i thought you said we were dating."

"we are." he confirmed. "what's the issue?"

"i thought that meant it was just, i don't know, us..." your frown deepened as the girl held back a giggle.

"don't be ridiculous. just because you're dating someone doesn't mean you own them." she leaned towards you.

"i never thought i owned him- what is your problem?

"hey, maybe you guys should-"

"oh come on, kaveh, what did you tell her? so what, he goes on dates with lots of people. big deal."

"that's fine! i just...i thought we were different. i thought it was special." your eyes started to water and you panicked, begging yourself not to cry in the cafe.

"i didn't realize it was that big of a deal." kaveh awkwardly added, scratching the back of his neck. "most of the time it's just singular dates anyways and-"

you suddenly stood up, brushing the hair away from your face. "i'm going home." you announced, barely controlling your sniffles as kaveh raced to stand up. "don't. you should've just been upfront with me. because...because if i knew it wasn't serious to you from the start, i would've just told you no."

you pulled your coat on, storming off with kaveh hot on your heels. "hey, hey wait up! look i didn't mean to make you cry. i'm sorry-"

"sorry isn't cutting it right now, kaveh. i just- i need space, okay? i didn't realize it was just...dating around to you. i'm not looking to fool around. i thought we were serious."

"we are! but you know how hard commitment is for me, and i really am trying here."

you took a deep breath, finally feeling tears streak down your cheeks. "thank you for trying, okay, but if it's really all that hard for you, then we shouldn't force it."

"what, so it's just done? like that?"

you pinched the bridge of your nose, shaking your head. "yeah. just- just go drink your coffee and talk to that other girl. i can't do this right now."

kaveh watched, finally not following as you walked home, wiping the tears from your cheeks as you sat on a bench in the park, taking a break to wipe your face with your sleeve.

you considered going to alhaitham for comfort, though you figured he'd be the worst person to ask since he lives with kaveh. how were you even going to face him? it all made your head hurt as you sniffled, wiping snot into your sleeves as you took a deep breath.

you could only hope he was still at the library (against your advice) and not at his house. you shielded your face when you walked in, desperately looking for his table. though it seemed he somehow spotted you before you saw him.

he approached you, guiding you towards his table and sitting you down across from him. "what did he do?"

"nothing. it was my own stupid fault for thinking i was the only one."

alhaitham's usual stony facade softened as he leaned over to wipe your tears, smoothing a thumb down your cheek. "kaveh's always been like that. i'm sorry for my roommates stupidity."

"i just...i broke up with him and i left him. what do i do now?" you asked, confused and hurt as alhaitham sighed, leaning back to collect his things in his bag. "what are you doing?"

"i'm taking you home. people are starting to look over here instead of minding their own business. come on." alhaitham gestured for you to stand, holding his arm out for you to take as your lips parted. "are you coming or not?"

you quickly held onto him, cheeks heating up as alhaitham carried your bag for you along with his own bag filled with books. "i can carry my own stuff, you know."

"i can handle it, don't worry about me."

"i always worry about you." you admitted as alhaitham pretended not to hear it, leaving you to frown at your feet. the second you got to your door, alhaitham fished the key out from your purse, opening the door and closing it skillfully with his foot. he set both of your things down, perusing your kitchen for your kettle and something he could make you to eat.

your heart hammered in your chest as you sharply inhaled. "why is it that whenever i try to tell you i like you, you act like i didn't say anything?" you forced out, watching alhaitham freeze in place.

"what are you talking about?"

"i...years. i tried for years. i finally gave up, and when i tried to date someone, i couldn't even do that. we broke up after a month. i couldn't even consider reconciliation because..."

"because?"

"you're such a dick! because i like you, asshole." you snapped, tears springing to your eyes again as alhaitham crossed the room to stand near you. "i- you...you always just act like nothing happened. it fucking hurts-"

he suddenly gripped your chin, moving closer as he pulled you to meet his gaze. "do you really take my fear as a sign of rejection?"

"uh..yeah?"

alhaitham frowned, dragging his thumb over the apple of your cheek. "for that, i humbly apologize then."

"what are you afraid of anyways?"

"you know how much of a perfectionist i can be." he sighed.

"of course."

"i want to be the best for you."

"but you are good already, and-"

"'good' isn't enough. i don't want to be a subpar filler partner. and i certainly don't wish to be 'the one who could have done more.'"

"i don't understand." you told him, exasperated as he leaned towards you, shifting his thumb to trace your jawline.

"i want to be perfect for you. the only person who sees when i stumble and treats me as a human. not as some machine who can never possibly fail, or as a top student with drive only to knock everyone down."

you were shocked, lips parting in surprise as you listened to his sudden confession.

"i wanted to tell you this whole time." you admitted. "i was scared of rejection. i think...i think i only dated kaveh because i thought you didn't care about me. i thought i had no chance with you."

"your thoughts mirror mine then. i thought i wasn't the man you deserved."

"just...shut up and kiss me already." you blurted, neck and ears heating up as alhaitham turned light pink, leaning in and pressing your lips together nonetheless.

you sighed into the kiss as he tenderly cupped your face, feeling your smile against his lips. when he broke away, he pressed his forehead to yours. "i didn't know you were so demanding."

"only because you made me wait for years."

alhaitham kissed you again, stealing your breath when he swiped his tongue along the seam of your lips, prompting you to open them for him. you let out a soft moan into the kiss, thighs pressing together as alhaitham groaned.

"i think we should stop here."

"what?" you blinked up at him with confusion. "why?"

"you're getting over kaveh. it's understandable, and a common human trait to-"

"i don't think you understand what i said, alhaitham." you reached up to grip his face, hands tangled into his fluffy hair. "i liked you since we were kids. long before i knew kaveh existed. i liked you all year. i liked you when we ate lunch, when we studied at the library, when we argued over exam scores...if anything i guess i'm guilty of using kaveh to get over you."

"kaveh isn't an innocent party either. he uses people as stress relief from his problems."

"well, you caused me a lot of stress you know." you laughed, shaking your head.

"you're guilty for doing the same to me."

"well, lock me up and take me in then, sir." you laughed, slowly easing up when alhaitham stared down at you differently. "what?"

"you're playing with fire. you should be more careful with your words."

"and what if i meant them?" you smirked, leaning up.

"then you should be aware of how i feel." alhaitham pressed himself against you, allowing to feel the hardness straining against his pants.

"archons...please, please i want you."

"you have me."

"you know what i mean." you frowned as alhaitham smirked ever-so-slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

no more than a few minutes later, alhaitham had you leaned up against his chest, in nothing but your undergarments as alhaitham trailed his fingers over your bare skin.

"sensitive." he hummed as his touch left goosebumps, feeling you shiver.

he gently brushed his fingers over your clothed core, your hips moving against his hand to earn more friction as he held your hips down with one hand. "patience."

"alhaitham, please." you whined, feeling him hook his fingers into the waistband and slide the fabric down your legs.

he carefully spread your thighs, dropping the hand to slide through your wetness as you whimpered, shifting on his lap.

he nibbled along the column of your neck, leaving little bites on your skin as you bared your neck to him, gasping as his tongue slid across the expanse.

his fingers began playing with your clit, feeling your hips jump again as you sighed, trying to chase his touch. "oh, alhaitham, that's good-"

he couldn't help but find you cute as he played with your slick, swirling his fingers around your hole as whines of his name spilled from your lips. "come on!"

"be patient." he warned again, lightly smacking your thigh as you huffed. "i have to prepare you properly first."

you felt him ease a finger into your heat, allowing you to fully adjust before adding another and one more after that, curling them into your g-spot as you writhed against his chest. your hands gripped the fabric of his clothes into your fists, shaking and begging for more as he swiped his thumb across your clit, rubbing in circles as you cried out, moving a hand to grip his wrist tightly.

"oh, archons!" you gasped, back arching when you finally came, hole spasming around his digits as he eased you down from your high. "wow." you sighed, leaning back against him to recover as he hummed, reaching down to unbuckle his belt.

"i think that can be considered decent preparation."

"i'd say more than just decent."

"flatterer."

you snorted, suddenly being replaced by a gasp when the head of his cock tapped against your hole.

you glanced down, eyes bulging as you saw his dick against you. "you're huge, oh, archons...my classmates said you were packing but i didn't know this much!"

"your friends talked about my proficiency in bed?"

"classmates, not friends. and anyways, yes, but clearly it helped me for once."

alhaitham laughed softly, shaking his head. "take a deep breath and try to relax for me. just focus on being calm." he slowly pushed inside of you, anchoring you to his chest as he slid you down onto his dick, feeling you tighten around him. "relax, relax, please."

alhaitham bit his lip, shaking his head as he continued to try and bottom out, feeling you shiver and shake in his hold, eyes watering.

"you're doing well. i'm proud of you. just keep breathing."

you whined his name, leaning into him as he kissed across your neck and shoulders, "just be good for me, just stay very still and i will meet your every desire."

#genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #al haitham #al haitham smut #alhaitham smut #al haitham x you #al haitham x reader #genshin impact kaveh #kaveh #✎─𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ❛ ༉‧₊˚#💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚#🔮─𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯⋆·˚ ༘

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corrodedcoughin · 1 year

Text

This might be the second worst thing that’s ever happened to Gareth while wearing these stupid shorts, or in general he guesses. The first being when he was in gym class and the got caught on the fence he tried to hop in order to skip said class, successfully exposing his lemon yellow carebear boxers, the only pair he had left because everything else was in the wash. Luckily it was only the gym teacher, Mr Carrey, and Linda Stern, a girl that kept to herself so unlikely to share such scandal. Neither brought it up again but that doesn’t mean Gareth was free of the memory, or free of reliving it whenever he opened his drawer to pull out some underwear.

But it’s not just the shorts that tie Gareth’s ‘most embarrassing and traumatising events of my life so far’ memories together. No, the instigator of both of these events also keeps them joined in Gareth’s mind. Edward Munson. It was Eddie who insisted that skipping class while in said class would be the smartest move to make ‘think of it Gareth, imagine it, skipping right under Mr Carrey's nose? He'd never expect it! High class rogue moves for sure!’

So of course Gareth was convinced by Eddie’s manic eyes and excitement and successfully flashed his gym teacher while the mastermind was laughing and pulling him down off the fence. Mr Carrey must have felt sorry enough for Gareth to let him run and isn’t that a fun addition to an already horrific memory?

Anyway, back to Eddie Munson; worst person to enter Gareth’s life. Because now? Now Gareth is stood outside a stupidly big and stupidly fancy house, in the offensive (now repaired, thanks Granny) gym shorts, and a pair of plastic and bent out of shape fairy wings. Originally he was supposed to be in a white vest too but he drew the line there, adamant he’d be wearing his Iron Maiden shirt to save some sort of dignity. And to top it all off it’s a beautiful day so of course people are out mowing their lawns, families are walking their dogs, children are playing in the streets and just enjoying the surprisingly mild february weather. All of them staring, quite obviously, at what they see as a strange teenager in wings being shouted at by an equally strange kid hiding behind a, not nearly big enouhg, bush for ‘stealth reasons’ apparently.

‘RING THE DOORBELL MAN, COME ON!’

Gareth slowly turns to look over his shoulder to glare at Eddie who is peaking around the shrubbery.

‘YOU RING THE FUCKING DOORBELL!’

‘GARETH YOU PROMISED! DON’T BE A DICK’

‘YEAH, BECAUSE YOU TRICKED ME!’

‘NO I DIDN’T, YOU SAID YES NOW RING TH-’

Of course that’s exactly when the door to the stupid house opens and the reason Gareth is here steps into the doorway.

Gareth grits his teeth and begins to recite his lines ‘Steve, o steve. You are beauty that has to be seen to be believed. Wont you be mine until the end of time?’ He finishes and stands glaring over Steve fucking Harrington’s shoulder

‘DO THE FUCKING REST GARETH’ Eddie’s voice emanates from somewhere to the back of Gareth, probably still hiding behind the stupid bush. So Gareth ‘does the rest’ he does a very slow and deliberate 360 spin before crouching down to one knee and shooting a plastic bow and arrow at Steve’s chest. Of course the arrow just rattles to the floor, sad and pathetic, just like it’s shooter Gareth thinks to himself.

‘Gareth? Why…umm, are you okay?’ Steve is obviously trying to hold back laughter and doing a terrible job of it. His face is convulsing like he’s just eaten a whole lemon, rind and all. And well, who knows, maybe he has, maybe it's a secret trick for keeping his hair so big, Gareth isn’t here to judge, he just wants to leave.

‘Dude please just answer the question and put me out of my misery’ He’s still half on the ground and his knee hurts and it’s hot and he’s kneeling at Steve Harrington’s fucking door dressed as a fucking cupid because he couldn’t say no to his fucking stupid fucking best friend. Gareth pulls himself away from thoughts of despair when he sees Steve’s mouth open to speak. He’s got one hand on the door frame, the other on the back of his neck

‘Oh, uh, yeah? I mean, yes? This is for Eddie right?’ Gareth stopped listening after the initial ‘yeah’, instead standing and turning to the, very small, hedge Eddie was doing an awful job of concealing himself behind

‘HE SAID YES. CAN I GO HOME NOW?’

Suddenly there's a whoop and an air punching Eddie Munson who realises he’s exposed his ‘perfect’ (shitty) hiding spot and is in full view of Steve. The idiot even tries to play off the air punch by combing his hand through his hair which obviously gets stuck on his rings and then tries to play that off by just keeping his hand in his hair while waving with the other, not trapped hand. With a violent yank he manages to free the entangled fingers with only a small whine.

‘Uhh…Hi Steve’ Eddie says with a dopey smile and somehow, somehow he’s got an equally lovesick looking Steve smiling right back at him ‘Hi Eddie’. At this point, Gareth has quite frankly had enough, Eddie and Steve are slowly walking towards each other like some romcom end of the movie scene and he’ll be dammed if he’s watching those two tragically flirt at each other. So he grabs the van keys out of Eddie’s pocket as he passes, resigning himself to an hour of shooting Eddie’s empty cans in the back of the van while he waits. Gareth is almost off the lawn when Eddie must get brave

‘NICE SHORTS BY THE WAY CUPID’

‘FUCK YOU!’ Gareth snaps the arrow in two trudges off, wings flapping behind him.

—---

Three weeks ago

Gareth was at his desk, he was trying to practice some drum rhythms when Eddie flounced in and dramatically dropped onto his bed. For the past half hour Gareth had been regaled with yet more ‘reasons why Steve Harrington is my dream man’ from Eddie

‘You don’t understand man. He was just driving and the Eagles came on. Don’t look at me like that, I know it’s the eagles, but it was life in the fast lane and he was singing along to it dude. The line! You know the one! I swear it was an instant hard on, thought I’d came by the end’

‘DUDE STOP. STOP. I’ll do whatever you want just please never talk to me about your Steve related dick events again’ Listen, Gareth loved Eddie, he did. But there's only so much a man can withstand and Eddie could monolgue for hours if given the chance.

‘Whatever I want?’ There was no obvious devious tone here but Gareth still should have known better than to agree. If he had clocked Eddie's face he would have seen an expression so devious that he'd be running out the door.

‘Yes! Fuck, just no more. My ears are never going to feel clean again’

#fun fact Gareth kept the wings and wore them to the next cc gig and people started calling him moth man #Eddie got INCREDIBLY jealous #bought his own pair and was called mothra #they now have a moth band side project #well my guys I was going to wait but the anxiety of it sitting in my drafts is too much #so here’s some questionable content that I hope people may find even slightly funny #this is SILLY #I am SORRY #I just!!! thought this would be funny!!!!#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things

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factual-fantasy · 2 months

Text

26 ASKS!! THANK YOU!! :}}} 🥪

(Post in question)

WAAHAHAAG THANK YOU SO MUHC!!! :DDDD As for your questions-

Spider crab's name is just a place holder for now, much like a lot of the crew has.. I want to give them all proper names at some point. Like Ellie and Louis have.. But I'm just really bad at coming up with names for stuff- <XD 💔💔

For Luigi- no one in particular! I just wanted to draw him with that expression <XD And don't worry, Mario cheered him up in the end :}}

As for the FNAF doodle, thats Foxy, Roxy and Mangle! I get that its hard to recognize her by her side profile and without color though-- <XD I had experimented with some ideas of a pirate themed Glamrock Mangle being added to one of the AUs. Though that sketch was the only one I really liked. :/

I have seen Encanto! :D It was alright, I liked the living house aspect of it :00

As for Red, I thiiink he might be too young to understand fusion or how to do it.. I pictured him being.. like what, five? Or something? That's like half the age of when Steven first learned to fuse-

That, and it felt a little odd for him to fuse with any of the crew, since they're all so much older than him. :/

@astaherussy (Post in question)

XD Sure were! Convenient aren't they?🤣🤣

I've definitely heard of it, and I've seen some gifs/posts about it here and there.. but truth be told I have no idea what its about. :( I think I've seen two Mario's and one wears a black suit...?

(Link/video in question)

XDD I imagine Ellie would shut that down real quick. But in the off chance that they get away with it.. I feel like Louis would come out on top.

He could block any oncoming attacks with his unbreakable claw arm, then whip around and launch whole watermelons and pies with the other XDD He would probably think it was fun too!

Does the game have large birds like that?? :0 I had no idea! They gotta be on the look out for those then--

Oof, I suppose they could.. though I don't intend for either party to experience that. It just sounds miserable! D:>

(Link/video in question)

XDD Oh man, that's hilarious! Poor Red--

@yourstrulylightstar283 (Referencing this post)

Thank you! I hope I get better soon too.. I hope to have some answers by next week.. <:) 🙏

:DD Thank you! I'm so glad you like my Freddy! :))

I always kind'a felt like a certain.. gloomy-ness, would be fitting for him. He already has some of that in the game. But with everything my Freddy's been through.. just.. having this weight to his tone. This lingering exhaustion.. I felt like it would suit him. :(

Hmm... I imagine that Seam and Jevil would be options.. Maybe in bad cases Calico Jack would.. Almost everyone in FNAF is an option <XD

No.. in a sad twist of fate, no one ever heard his cries in the dungeon. Imagine how much more lonely he felt becuase of that..

I don't know if he gets phantom pains from getting beat up.. but I imagine his horn stumps give him some aches and soreness that can be attributed to phantom pain.. :(

Who's gingerbrave? That's the main character right..? I have no idea if he'd come across my crew.. I don't know what kind of shenanigans he gets up to.. wait "gang"? He travels in a group with other people??

@chickenmilk120

fank uu! :}}}

@couchwow

Yeah,, I'm aware.. 😔🙄 ya hate to see it. But hey the watermark is right there saying "this art is stolen." so it could be worse I guess.

@littlelightfish

Tuna:

He is not being normal about it XDD You've totally flattered him!

@potatocryptid

Thank you!! :DD Yeah,, I think I WILL work on what ever I want!! XDD

Off the top of my head, there's an AWESOME Mario artist by the name of @katlyntheartist! I love her work, I highly recommend you stop by her blog! :D

I've also seen some jaw-dropping Mario artwork by @suedoodle! Both blogs are worth a visit! :}}

(Post in question)

Ah yes! The idea behind that was to show the initial divide between Grillby and Spamton.

You see, Spamton hails Jevil as his savior of sorts. He was at his lowest low, and in unimaginable pain.. then Jevil just swoops in and offers his hand. Bringing him outside of his AU. Away from the pain, away from the torment.. Jevil is awesome!!

But then you've got Grillby.. Jevil saved him from his AU right before it collapsed in on itself. He "saved" his life, but at what cost? Grillby lost everything. And he cant help but be angry at Jevil for it. Thinking that if Jevil hadn't been there, he could have just peacefully disappeared along with his family and everyone else in his AU..

So Spamton is endlessly respectful towards Jevil, and Grillby cant help but roll his eyes and spit sass at him all the time. Those two opposing views are bound to cause problems someday..

I imagine one day the whole group is tired and cranky. Jevil did something that Grillby didn't agree with. Some bitter remarks there, Spamton defending Jevil's decision here.. some back and fourth and next thing you know a fight breaks out. :x

@im-nice-but-i-dont-like-you

XDD idk!! Why are YOU into almost every single fandom I'M into?? Also than you so much!! :}}

Thank you! I'm glad you like my sona! But aaa sorry, no can do.. I don't want fanart at all, of anything. Just comments/asks/reblogs. <:}

@canonickero (Sent after this post)

XD Thank you! I'm glad you like him :}}

I pictured Yendo being another one of Funtime Foxy's nightmare-ish visions. Though I should consider passing that onto Bon Bon.. 👀

The story goes that Funtime Freddy is a frequent flyer in parts and service. The employees groan that there's always something wrong with Freddy that needs fixing. Nobody really knows why..

Now at some point Freddy was shut down and in parts and service. As per usual.. Foxy was nearby, and heard a sudden thud/crash coming from that room. He rushes inside to see what happened and finds Funtime Freddy on the floor, what ever he was propped up on had broken, causing him to fall.

He looked at Freddy's face.. and.. his face plates were wide open..

Foxy. freaked. out. If I remember correctly, he was supposed to start shouting and panicking. Trying to help Freddy, thinking he was hurt. When he couldn't move Freddy and he wouldn't wake up, Foxy ran out of the room to get help. He runs into some employees and tried to tell them what happened. They end up just forcibly shutting him down because he cant stop freaking out..

Later on he's reactivated and the rest of the gang is with him. Including Freddy. He uncharacteristically runs to Freddy all worried and frantically inspects his face for injuries. They ask him what he saw but he just.. doesn't have the words to describe it.

Part of the horror is Foxy's inability to understand what he saw. Therefore being terrified of it and being unable to describe it..

After that Foxy began to develop these hallucinations of sorts. Overtime the image of Freddy's skinned face kind'a turns in to its own nightmare. Yendo.. overtime it feels more like "Yendo" is an entity separate from Freddy. Foxy begins to imagine this skinned bear like creature that is out there somewhere.. wanting to hurt Freddy and take his face.. its not fun :(

This idea is still in development. Well, the whole AU is. But this was my initial idea for Yendo :)

Now old man consequences is tricky.. I had intentions of him being this weird vison that Foxy sees now and again. But with recent developments to the AU.. I might need to scrap the old gator. Or at least re-write his role and function in the AU-

@stripetkattelalala54 (Post linked in question)

No problem! I'm always up for Mario questions! :DD

And as for the question, I pictured that Mario never really liked the ice flower to begin with. I imagined Mario loving the heat and the sun. Always enjoyed being warm/hot and functions the best in it.. You know like a maniac-

So the Fire flower was naturally his favorite powerup. And that experience did leave Mario with some kind of trauma, which just added to his dislike of it..

@beryl-shade

OOO I like Tendrilfoam! :00 Hmm, Captain Tendrilfoam.. I'll have to consider that one! :D

#my response #fnaf security breach #fnaf sister location #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs #undertale #deltarune #octonauts #super mario bros

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sailor-aviator · 7 months

Text

Fool's Fare: Chapter Three

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Triggers: Language, Excessive alcohol consumption, Talks of the supernatural. Think that's it.

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Here is Chapter Three! I hope you all enjoy! I'm hoping to start working out the timeline for the DPU again so I can post an update for Outrun the Devil here soon, but I might update Meet Me at the Sea again before I do. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are greatly appreciated! 18+ ONLY!! You can also find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I post my updates as well!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The town of Port Royal was crowded with men of different ilk the likes of which you had never seen. The Hangman had docked in the early hours of the morning, and once you had finished helping Bob prepare and serve breakfast, you had dragged the young man down the gangway and onto the street, heart hammering away with excitement.

“We can’t be gone too long,” Bob said, grinning at your clear excitement. “We have to be back in time to prepare supper.”

“What’s the point of traveling if we can’t even see the sights?” you scowled, pushing your way through the heavy throng of people around you. A few men gave you dirty looks as you did, but you paid them no mind. Men were rarely able to back up their bark with enough bite, in your experience, but you pressed onward without so much as a second glance at them.

“Pete, we are seeing the sights,” Bob chuckled behind you.

You turned to fix him with a scowl. “We’re seeing, but we aren’t appreciating. How can we when we only have a few hours?”

“I think you’re overestimating how much there is for us to do around here,” he laughed. You paid him no mind as you neared the market of the old pirate hub. Men bargained with each other at several of the different stalls, and groups of women were scattered along the streets looking for paying customers to share their bed for the evening.

“Ahoy, handsome,” a pretty redhead grinned at you as she leaned over the railing of the brothel. “You look like you’ve hardly reached manhood, and I don’t suppose you have much experience under your belt. Can I interest you in some lessons?”

“I, uh,” you stammered, blinking up at her nervously. “No, thank you, miss.”

“Shame,” she smirked, eyes looking behind you. “And what about you, sailor?”

You turned to see Bob looking as red as a tomato as he glanced nervously at you. “No, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’ll be here if either of you change your mind,” she grinned, tossing her long curls back to show off her ample cleavage. “Just ask for Lucy when you come back.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” you blushed, hurrying to move forward with Bob hot on your tail. The two of you continued on a little farther until a glint of light caught your eye. You walked slowly up to the stall, several men grousing at you as you crossed right in front of their paths, but you paid them no mind. Your eyes were locked on a beautiful necklace that lay on top of a small wooden chest at one of the stalls. The golden chain held a six-pointed star, tiny diamonds encircling a burning opal. You had never seen something so beautiful before.

“I see you’ve found the soul of Polaris.”

You jumped, looking up to see an older man with a salt and pepper beard staring down at you. His accent was foreign, and if you had to guess, you’d say the man was from somewhere in Scotland.

“Is that what this is?” you asked him, looking back down at the jewel.

“Aye,” he continued, folding his arms. “They say a sea witch fell madly in love with a sailor long ago. When the two finally met face to face, the witch proclaimed her love for the man, but what she didn’t know is that the man was disgusted by her form. You see, the sea witch was also a mermaid, a siren of the sea. For while the witch was fair of face, the sailor knew what monster lay beneath the surface. So, he told her that he would only accept her love if she offered him something valuable.”

“And that was the gem?” you asked him, eyes wide. The old man chuckled with a shake of his head.

“No, lad. Wasn’t the gem,” he explained. “Was what the gem holds. There’s nothing more important to a sailor than the north star herself. Every man worth his salt knows that much. No, the gem holds an ancient magic. A magic to calm the sea and guide men to what it is they need most.”

“Which is what?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It’s different for every man.”

“Why are you selling it if it’s so valuable?” Bob chimed in, eyes narrowed at the man.

“Because it showed me that it’s time to pass it along, and I’m nothing if not a man who loves a proper sale,” he grinned. “Are ye interested?”

Before you could answer, Bob grabbed your elbow, pulling you away.

“No, we’re not,” he huffed out. You let out a cry of protest as he dragged you through the crowd. It wasn’t until the merchant faded from view that he finally slowed down, and you jerked your arm out of his hand.

“What was that about?” you griped, glaring up at him. He looked around the crowd wearily before shaking his head.

“Just didn’t like the look of him, is all.”

“Oh, that’s all?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “What if I wanted to buy it?”

“Yeah?” Bob bit out a sharp laugh. “With what money?”

You were silent for a moment, and he nodded. “That’s what I thought.”

“You don’t have to be such an ass, you know,” you muttered, looking away dejectedly. You heard Bob sigh before he placed a hand gently on your shoulder.

“Look,” he began, “I’m sorry. I just don’t like anything having to do with magic or witches or anything of the sort.”

“Why’s that?” you asked him.

Bob didn’t answer you, instead looking somewhere off in the distance before grinning down at you.

“C’mon,” he said, once again pulling you through the crowd. “There’s something I want you to see.”

You allowed him to tug you along, the crowd thinning as the two of you moved closer to the edge of town. Finally, the cobblestone streets gave way to white sands and the stunning blue of the ocean. You felt your breath catch in your throat as you looked out onto the horizon. How you hadn’t noticed it when you departed the ship earlier, you didn’t know, but now your gaze was transfixed by it. This blue was so different from the blue you grew up seeing every day. Where your home’s waters were usually a dark, stormy blue, Port Royal’s water shined like topaz.

“I didn’t know the sea could look like this,” you breathed out.

“I knew you’d like it,” Bob smiled, turning his focus to the water before you. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments before Bob turned to you once more. “C’mon, we best get back to the ship.”

“What’s all the commotion up there?” you asked Bob, hearing the stampede of footsteps above you on the main deck. Bob glanced up, a smile crawling onto his face.

“Sounds like they’re back aboard,” he grinned, rushing towards the door.

“Who is ‘they?’” you called after him, but he was already gone. You sighed, eyeing the ingredients for dinner before making your way after him. A crowd had gathered by the gangway, and you stopped at the edge where Bradley stood.

“What’s going on?” you asked him.

He shrugged. “Guess we’re here to pick up two other crew members from what I’ve gathered.”

You hummed, craning your neck to try and peer over the horde of men. You managed to catch a glimpse of two figures on the other side of the crowd; one man and one woman.

“Natasha!” You heard Bob cry. You saw the head of sandy hair bounce up to the woman who smiled at him. “How was it? How did it go?”

“Bob!” Natasha hollered as she pulled the young man in for a tight hug. “It’s good to see you. It was great!” She gestured to the man beside her. “You should have seen Mickey haggling with that old codfish! Thought we might get away without payin’ a cent there for a second. And then just when we had him, the codger backed out.”

She grimaced at the memory. “Couldn’t for the life of us figure out why he would back out at the last second. Just as we were headed back here though, he stopped us and offered another deal, one too good to pass up.”

“And so you took the deal.”

Everyone turned to see Jake, having just come from his quarters, at the edge of the crowd. He strutted towards the pair with a cocky smirk.

“You bet your ass we took that deal,” grinned the man, Mickey, as the captain approached. “We were leaving with it one way or another.”

“Lucky for the old man, he came to his senses,” smirked Natasha, arms crossing in front of her. Jake hummed as he stopped in front of them.

“And where is our little treasure?” he asked them. Mickey rifled through his pockets before pulling something out. The chain dropped to reveal a six-pointed star with tiny diamonds surrounding a burning opal. You gasped as Mickey handed the necklace over to Jake, who quickly pocketed it. He turned back to the rest of the crew.

“Alright, you lot. Show’s over. Get back to work! We set sail in an hour.”

The crew clambered to prepare the ship for launch, but you continued to stare at the small group on the other side of the ship.

“I’m going to freshen up in my quarters,” Natasha told the two with a smile, already making her way to where the cabins were housed. You gaped before looking over at Bradley.

“Bradley,” you hissed at him. Bradley swallowed thickly.

“She’s a woman.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s got a cabin on the ship.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s a member of the crew.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

Before you could say more, Bob had come bounding up to you. “Are you ready to get back to cooking?”

You shot one last glare at Bradley, who looked everywhere but back at you. That idiot.

“Yeah,” you grumbled, turning to head back into the hull. “I’m ready.”

“Why is that woman a member of the crew?” you asked Bob as you scrubbed at the pot in your hands. “I thought woman weren’t allowed on ships?”

“On most ships, yes,” he told you as he finished dishing out portions for the crew. “But Jake doesn’t really care who is crew is made up of as long as they carry their own weight and don’t cause any problems.”

You hummed. “So anyone can just join, huh?”

“I suppose,” he mused. “Jake doesn’t let anyone join the crew unless he thinks their worthy and have something to offer. A lot of men were skeptical when Nat first joined, but she quickly made a name for herself as the Phoenix.”

“The Phoenix?” you questioned, pausing your scrubbing to look at him. He nodded with wide, excited eyes.

“Yeah! Whenever we come upon a ship to plunder, she does this thing where she’ll light the ends of her coat on fire. It smolders, giving her this terrifying look like she just rose out of the flames. That’s why, ya know…”

“The Phoenix,” you finished for him, turning back to your work. “Do you all have nicknames like that?”

“Some of us, sure,” he replied. “But our names work just fine. Now help me pass these out to the crew.”

You moved to help him and the two of you began taking the dishes out to where the crew had gathered around the massive tables.

“Cabin boy!”

You turned to see Natasha waving at you with a mug of ale.

“Come join us,” she grinned. You glanced at Bob who nodded.

“Go, I can get the rest,” he smiled. You nodded back at him and made your way over to where Natasha sat with Reuben and Mickey.

“Take a seat, cabin boy,” Natasha grinned, taking a sip of her ale. You did as she commanded, eyes darting between the three sailors as they stared at you.

“Is it true?” she asked you with a raised eyebrow.

“Is what true?”

“That your dad is Maverick Mitchell!” Mickey grinned, leaning in closer to you. A large figure slid in beside Reuben.

“What are we talking about?” Bradley asked, glancing between you and the other three.

“We were just starting to ask the cabin boy here about his father, Rooster” Reuben told him, taking a bite of his food. Bradley’s mouth set in a firm line as the three turned their attention back to you.

“What was he like?” Mickey asked you, practically bouncing in his seat. You shrugged noncommittally as you took a bite off your own plate.

“I don’t really know what you're expecting me to say.”

“Well, was he just as daring as the stories say? Did he take you out on his trips? Did you help him plunder? Did he ever find the treasure he was looking for?”

“Alright,” Natasha groaned, setting a calming hand down on his shoulder to stop him. Bob chose that moment to join the lot of you, sliding in next to her on the opposite side of the table. “Settle down, fanboy.”

“I can’t help it!” He hollered. “It’s not every day you meet the kid of one of the greatest pirates known to man.”

You stilled, seeing Bradley tense up on the other side of Reuben.

“What?” You whispered, eyes wide as you stared at Mickey who stared at you uncertainly.

“Pete Mitchell was your father,” Mickey said slowly, glancing around the table. “Right?”

“Yes, he was,” you said firmly.

“Pete Mitchell, better known as Maverick,” Reuben rattled off, “was a world renowned pirate of the highest order. His very name struck fear into the hearts of many a ship’s captain and crew. He was respected both far and wide by civilians and sailors alike.”

“Until one day he just disappeared,” Natasha added, studying you curiously. “Said his life’s mission was to find the greatest treasure the world could offer, and he plundered and stole for decades before dropping off the face of the earth.”

You felt like you were going to be sick. You didn’t know this man they were talking about. You knew the man who told you stories before bed, who showed you the proper ways to tie different knots, who always treated you kindly and had a smile at the ready for you, who never once raised his voice in anger at you or your mother. The man they were talking about was a stranger.

Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest cup to you, Natasha’s, and downed it. The ale did little to ease your comfort, and you grabbed Reuben’s next and did the same.

“Woah there, cabin boy,” Reuben called out as you reached for Mickey’s. “Slow down there.”

You didn’t want to slow down. You wanted to forget. You downed Mickey’s cup and searched for more. The men to your right had watched the scene unfold, and one of them let out a low chuckle before pushing his cup towards you.

“There ya go, cabin boy!” He laughed. “Drink up!”

You happily obliged him, downing the nearly full mug in only a couple of gulps. You stood, head already beginning to feel both light and heavy all at the same time. You had never had more than one cup of ale before, but you weren’t worried about that fact in that moment. You stumbled on your feet as you made to move towards the barrel that had been opened for that night’s dinner.

“No,” Bradley said from behind you, having gotten up when you did. “You’ve had enough.”

You whirled around to face him, nearly falling on your face in the process. “I’ll decide when I’ve had enough,” you hissed up at him, trying and failing to push past him as he gripped your arms.

“That’s enough,” he growled down at you, but you continued to push at him until he gave you a gentle shake. “I know you’re upset, but this is not how you should be handling it.”

You stared up at him, studying him. Why was he being so calm about this revelation that had just been dropped into your lap?

“You knew,” you breathed, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. “You knew, and you didn’t tell me.”

Bradley stiffened, hands tightening ever so slightly on your shoulders. He looked defeated as he let out a sigh. “He didn’t want you to know.”

“Bastard!” you screamed at him, your struggle renewing with a vengeance.

“What’s going on here?”

All of you stopped and turned. Javy stood at the end of the stairs, eyes scanning the room and the scene before him. He frowned when he saw the state you were in.

“Cabin boy,” he said slowly, eyes always studying you. “Go get some air.”

You took a breath before pushing at Bradley who stumbled back half a step. You staggered toward the stairs, hearing Javy address the crew. You didn’t hear what he said, too focused on making it up to the main deck.

The air had grown cool as the sun began to set, and you staggered towards the edge of the boat. You grasped onto one of the ropes, feeling your resolve start to break. The tears started to fall and you let out a shaky sob into the wind.

“Rough night, cabin boy?”

You turned, vision hazy from the ale, to see Jake standing a few feet away from you.

“What do you care?” You muttered, frowning at him. He let out a low chuckle before walking over to lean against the side of the ship next to you. The two of you stared at one another for a few moments, but said nothing.

“He was a pirate,” you whispered, almost inaudibly, the tears still flowing down your cheek. Jake nodded.

“Aye,” he said. “He was.”

“But he was a good man,” you frowned, more of a question than a statement. Jake cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Can’t a man be both?”

You shrugged, head starting to feel even heavier. “I suppose so.”

Jake let out another chuckle, leaning into you a little more. “You suppose so?” he teased.

“Yeah,” you nodded sleepily. “S’pose so.”

Jake reached up to cup your cheek as he watched you. “How much did you have to drink down there tonight, Guppy?”

“D’unno,” you muttered, subconsciously nuzzling into the palm of his hand. “More than I’ve ever ha’ before.”

The two of you stood in silence for a moment before your eyes shot open, staring at him. What did he just call you?

Jake watched you with a knowing smirk as you struggled to form a coherent thought through the alcohol induced haze.

“You catchin’ up there alright, Guppy?” he asked you, a grin breaking out over his face.

“How long have you-?”

“Since you walked up to the ship behind Rooster, sweet girl. You think I’d just forget a pretty face like yours?” he laughed as you scowled up at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you snapped.

He shrugged. “Figured things would be much more interesting this way. Besides, you looked so cute thinkin’ you had fooled me into thinkin’ you were a boy. Wanted to see how long you’d play into it.”

“So why bother saying anything?” You grumbled. His grin dropped as he stared at you with a stern expression.

“Cause you went and did a stupid thing like gettin’ too drunk. Now I gotta worry ‘bout you ‘round some of these men.”

“You don’t trust your own men?” You asked him, eyebrow raised. He chuckled lowly, placing a large, warm hand to the small of your back.

“While I believe they aren’t stupid enough to try anything with me or your brother on board the ship, I’d sleep much better tonight havin’ not taken the chance.”

“Wait,” you said, his words catching up with you. “They know?”

Jake laughed at that. “Darlin’, everyone knew the moment you set foot on the ship. That brother of yours needs to work on his disguises.”

You scowled up at him as he helped you towards the cabins. He beamed down at you, eyes twinkling, and you could have sworn you saw a blue mist twirl in his pupils as he stared down at you.

“C’mon. You can bunk with Natasha from here on out.”

171 notes · View notes

yunhohours · 2 years

Text

Seventeen Reaction: Seeing Your Naked Body for the First Time

Request: how do you think svt would react to seeing your naked body for the first time 😳 A/N: i tried to make these as gender neutral as possible ALSO some of these are more nsfw than others so read at your own risk sfjsdf

Seungcheol: "Take them off for me, then." Cheol's voice is husky as he sits on the bed, leaning back, strong arms propping up his upper half. You're a deer in headlights, eyes alternating between boring a hole into his because he can't be serious right now and flitting around the room to avoid eye contact altogether. "What do you—" You can't even finish your question, feeling silly for even asking. "If you want me like you say you do, then take your clothes off for me. Let me see you." You gulp, feeling like you might just crawl out of your skin as your mind races with anxieties, hopes, desires. Your body, on the other hand, is listening to the authority in his voice just perfectly, your clothes falling to the floor one after another. His eyes follow your every movement, tongue tracing the shape of his all-too-perfect lips. Once you've completed what he asked of you, his eyes make their way back to yours, taking their sweet time to enjoy the sights along the way. He smiles, his hand reaching for yours and tugging gently until you're close enough for him to sit you on his knee. He gives you a far softer kiss than you're expecting, one that doesn't last as long as you had hoped, but you forgive him when his lips opt to wander across your cheek, stopping just below your ear. "You are perfect, my baby," he whispers, his hand smoothing over your thigh in comfort. You don't realize you've been holding your breath until you exhale deeply, his gentle touch and reassurance all you needed to feel what matters most: safety—something you never lack with Cheol.

Jeonghan: "Hi, Hannie," you singsong into the receiver of your phone, water droplets from your hair leaving a trail behind you as you exit your bathroom. "Guess who's standing outside your door with takeout?" Right to the point, naturally. You smile fondly. You've always loved how Jeonghan surprises you. You were supposed to go out for dinner tonight, but here he is, surprising you with takeout so you can stay in alone. You're too busy feeling your heart double in size that you almost forget your situation—you are completely naked post-shower and he is right outside your door, prepared to walk in at any moment. "Wait! I uh—" You don't want to say the words. Somehow just telling him that you're naked feels incredibly intimate. "What's wrong? Was this the wrong move? Ah, you probably really wanted to go out tonight—" Letting him think he's the problem here is not an option. "No! I just, um. I... need to get dressed?" Your words sound like a question and Jeonghan, being the person he is, takes that as an opportunity to counter you. "Don't," he says simply. You're silent, jaw slack as you try to process what's happening. Did he really say that? Did he mean something else and you're not smart enough to understand? As if he can read your mind, he clarifies. "Unless you tell me not to, I'm going to come in right now, okay?" Your mouth is dry as you rush to sit on your couch to wait for him, hugging a pillow to your body for some sense of concealment. Your own heartbeat is so loud that you can't hear his footsteps approaching you, only being aware of his presence when he's standing in front of you. His head tilts at the sight of you and he sits, turning his body towards you. "Why are you hiding from me?" He asks, his hands reaching for the pillow, checking your eyes for approval before he slowly removes it from your grasp. You feel small and vulnerable, but not for long. "Don't hide from me. You're beautiful." He pulls you into him, arms wrapped protectively around you as he kisses the top of your head, hand stroking the back of your wet tresses. "I see you're an air dryer," he teases and you can't help but laugh away the rest of your nerves.

Joshua: “G’morning,” Joshua rasps against your neck, arms wrapped around your waist as his figure is molded to the back of yours. You hum happily, sleepily, tightening his arms around you with your own before lazily turning to face him. “Morning, Josh.” You find his lips with yours, arms moving around his neck for leverage as you press your front against his, your desire clear but surprising. Lucky for him, he doesn’t miss a beat. He rolls himself on top of you, lips never parting even as he mumbles against them. “Tell me.” You know what he means. “Want you, Josh.” His lips quirk into a smirk that you can feel on yours before he sits up. He catches your gaze and refuses to let go of it as his fingers find the hem of your shirt, slowly sliding it up your torso and leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His eyes abandon yours only to sparkle as he takes you in, his gentle hands removing each piece of clothing from you one by one. “Look at you,” he glowers, his finger lightly tracing the shapes of your newly naked body. "Can't believe you've been hiding this from me," he mumbles as his head dips, leaving open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin he can reach.

Junhui: Jun doesn't know what you're upset about. All he knows is that you don't want to talk about it and what you do seem to want is him. After prompting you to take some of the weight off your shoulders more than a few times only to be shut down as you instead kissed him and pulled at his clothes, he understood what it was that you needed from him. He gathered you in his arms and carried you to his bed, oh-so careful as he placed you on the edge, nudging himself between your thighs. He has no intentions of having you for himself, his only focus to help you relax. Your sweet, desperate moans as he kisses down your neck are music to his ears, his hands working expertly to shed the clothing that you can't seem to get off of you fast enough. You start to pull at his again, the urge to drown yourself in being together controlling your every move, but his hand gently swats yours away. Not today. His hands hold yours, spreading them out to your sides as he pulls back to look at you. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. The slight slackening of his jaw and the slow motion of his eyes are all anyone would need to know exactly what he's experiencing—awe. The inability to use your hands and the lack of his mouth on your skin suddenly makes you feel as bare as you are, eyes darting to the ground. Jun's hands slowly untangle themselves from yours, gliding up your arms, your shoulders, your neck. He leaves one on the side of your neck while the other inches under your chin, lifting your gaze up to his. "You're too beautiful to hurt this much." His eyes and his tone are unwavering, conveying more sincerity than you've ever felt from anyone. "Let me take care of you," he exhales as his forehead falls against yours, his hand dropping between your legs to give you the relief you came to him for.

Soonyoung: You stand near the edge of your bed, eying the different sets of lingerie you've recently purchased. Which one was the right one for tonight? For the first time ever, you planned to let Hoshi see you fully after dinner. You just wanted him to see you wrapped in a pretty package first. You needed to decide soon. He was just in the other room, lounging on the couch while scrolling on his phone, waiting for you to be ready. He had already mentioned a time or ten that he was starving. You start to reach for a pretty white set with a garter belt when the sound of Hoshi's voice and a door swinging open startles you. "Y/n, are you almost ready? I'm about to die h— WOW!" You jump and spin around to face him, your arms doing what they can to cover yourself. "HOSHI! What the fuck?!" It takes him several seconds too long to correct the situation. Several seconds of him just staring at you like he's stumbled upon something miraculous. "HOSHI!" You yell again and he finally snaps out of it, eyes nervously darting around before he claps his hand over his eyes. "What?! Fuck. I'm sorry! I just— I thought you would be... being naked... in the bathroom!" You can't help but laugh. He looks so cute standing there like a sim, desperately trying to glue his own hand to his face as if it would erase what just happened. Even upon hearing your laugh, he doesn't budge. You speak soothingly as you cross the room to where he stands in the doorway. "It's okay, dummy. You weren't supposed to see me like this until after dinner, but I guess there's nothing we can do about that now, hm?" You press a soft kiss to his lips—one he's not expecting with his absence of vision—and then spin him around gently, pushing him out of your room and closing the door once more so you can actually get dressed this time.

Wonwoo: "Are you sure you're okay with this? Arms up." Wonwoo's voice is so gentle, waiting for your affirmative nod before lifting your shirt from your body. You feel exposed, naturally, but you don't hide from him as he carries on, carefully taking off your bottoms followed by your undergarments. He gives you a onceover and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing your temple, not putting any weight on you being bare before him for the first time. "In you go." And you do, climbing into the warm bath he prepared when you texted that you were almost home. You had called him earlier in the day to complain about how much pressure you were feeling with your workload and, being the darling he is, he wanted to help you destress. He wasn't expecting you to ask him to join you. As you melt into the water, he undresses himself before climbing in behind you, positioning you so that your back rests against his chest. "I've got you." His hushed tone is laced with so much warmth that your eyes flutter closed, not a worry in the world that can bother you now.

Jihoon: You sigh and lean your head back on the armrest of the couch in Jihoon’s studio. It was to be expected that if you met him here, you wouldn’t be able to hold much of his attention, but today is the day you want it the most. Today is the day you feel like you can’t go one more second without having him. A lightbulb springs bright above your head as an idea forms, a knowing smirk playing on your lips. Your gaze floats to the back of his chair, picturing the face you love so perfectly in your mind as you start to undress yourself as quietly as possible. Just the feeling of undressing yourself with him so close yet so unaware is sending wave after wave of heat through your body. You wait until you are completely bare before calling his name in the sweetest voice you can muster. He swivels in his chair right away. “Yes, y/n?” He freezes when his eyes land on you, doubling their size in disbelief. “Y/n! I—” You smile at how startled he is, reveling in his inability to form words at the mere sight of you. “Hmm?” You prompt teasingly. His eyes trail from yours to your toes and back again, maintaining that eye contact as he finally finds the words he has been looking for. “Your body is even more beautiful than I could’ve imagined.” The warmth of your body cocoons your heart then, the sound of wheels rolling towards you creating a bonus sensation—anticipation.

Seokmin: "You were so sweet tonight, Min." Your compliment brings you exactly what you wanted: that bright smile that rivals only the sun. "Me? I didn't do anything special," he muses as he looks at you, curiosity glittering in his eyes. You chuckle as your hands travel up his chest, tilting your head slightly as you steal his gaze with yours. "On the contrary, actually. While everyone else around was trying to undress me with their eyes tonight, you were a perfect gentleman." You can swear you hear him gulp, his newly nervous smile twitching as he tries to formulate what he wants to say. You don't let him. "I know you, though. You did want to look, right? You want to see more?" The bright, assured smile is back in full force as he nods his head, more than happy to admit it. You simply nod and peck his lips before stepping back, your hands smoothing down your stomach and your thighs as a treat for his eyes to follow before you slowly undress yourself for him. You grin as you watch his beautiful doe eyes round in surprise, his bottom lip snug between his teeth. "Whoa. You are so..." He starts, his hands reaching for your waist but hesitating, not sure if touching is a step too far. "How did I get so lucky?" He asks, his voice small, his eyes full of emotion as he looks away from your figure and into your own eyes. It almost hurts how precious he is. You take his hands and place them on your waist, stepping closer so your bare chest is pressed against his clothed one. "If anyone is lucky here, it's me, Min."

Mingyu: Your hands tangle in the back of Mingyu's hair, your body rising and falling in his lap as you seek more of him, your tongue gliding over his for what must be the millionth time in the past ten minutes. Every heavy exhale that leaves his pretty mouth is driving you insane, making you pull at his hair which only makes him groan, continuing the cycle. His hands have been quite polite—too polite. They started on your waist, traveled to the outsides of your thighs where they palmed as much of your thigh as they could, but haven't moved much since. All you've gotten are delicious squeezes and itchy fingers, playing with the hem of your clothes without making any actual move forward. You need more. "Fuck, Gyu," you sigh as you pull back from him, taking a moment to steady yourself as the room spins, the only anchor you've known being Mingyu's strong body and plush lips. He seems to be just as dizzy, his head falling back on the top of the couch cushions, lids low and breath heavy as he smirks at you. He doesn't bother asking what you mean because he knows. He knows he makes you crazy. This time, though, you decide to make him crazy. Without leaving his lap, you maneuver yourself out of your clothes until they're nothing but a pile on the ground, tousling your hair as a bonus. His body is still as his eyes rake over your form all too casually. You let him take his time despite practically vibrating with need in his lap. You yelp when you're caught off-guard by his hands suddenly groping your ass, pulling you firmly against the stiffness in his jeans as he gazes up at you. "You really like me this much, huh?" You don't even need to see the smirk on his face to know it's there.

Minghao: You nervously drop the silken robe wrapping your body to the floor, allowing Minghao to see your body bare for the first time. You had planned this. You wanted him and knew you would have to let him know on your own if you intended on having him. You didn't want him to question whether you were sure or not so you opted for the bold approach. You had been waiting for him to come home and now he was, standing on the other side of the bedroom as you offered yourself to him wordlessly. He doesn't flinch. His face is unmoving aside from his eyes, roaming your body from your toes to your face in what must be slow motion. His lips quirk into a small smirk when his eyes finally meet yours. "What is it, y/n? Do you want something?" He teases, eyes blinking so casually at you it makes your skin burn. Despite his teasing, there's a subtle softness to his gaze, a tint of love.

Seungkwan: You're rolling around in Seungkwan's sheets, both pairs of hands focused on removing all clothing from the opposite body. You're not sure why this exact evening was the one that the tension finally snapped—seemingly at the same time for both of you—but neither of you could seem to stop yourselves from chasing as much physical closeness as humanly possible. Before you even have time to comprehend it, you're completely naked beneath him, his hands gliding over every limb and expanse of your skin, feeling what he's only ever dreamed of before. You sigh happily under his touch, tilting your head back into the mattress as his lips trail across your shoulders before dipping down towards your chest. You can feel yourself tense under him, the anticipation spiking incredibly high, but it melts just as quickly as it built when his mouth abandons your skin. You gasp as you feel his hand slide up the back of your neck, palming the back of your head as he lifts your eyes back to his. A second passes, then two, then three. "You're really perfect everywhere, you know that?" He asks, insisting on your affirmation—in this case, a sweet nod—before he continues on, his mouth fully intent on exploring every inch of your body until the sun comes up.

Vernon: Vernon gazes up at you from his bed, head perched against the backboard as his expression reads both curiosity and amusement. "I'm just saying, you know. We've never seen each other naked and it's starting to make me feel like we're building it up too much and I think that if we continue at this rate, I will just get more and more nervous about it and—" Thankfully, he stops you from rambling on any further. "Y/n." It's all you need to close your mouth, shifting your weight nervously as you can only look at him now and hear what he has to say about your vulnerability. "Let's not build it up any more then, yeah? Let me see you." Oh. You almost protest. You want to say I didn't mean right this second or Hey, what about you? But you don't. Instead, his surprising decisiveness makes you want to do just as he says. And you do. You start undressing yourself where you stand on the other side of the room, feeling like maybe the distance will make you feel less exposed. But once you're done, Vernon pats his lap, not moving an inch from where he lies. "Come here, baby. I want to see you better." You make your way to him on nervous footing, climbing onto his lap and doing everything in your power to resist hiding yourself from him. You've never felt the need to do so before and you're not going to start now. The fond smile on his face does a lot to calm your nerves but you are still buzzing. This is your Vernon. Remember. "You know what you are?" He asks, eyes trained on yours as his thumbs rub into your outer thighs soothingly. "Are you going to say something corny right now? Like let me guess, you were going to say beautiful or something right?" You don't mean to be sassy but you default there when you're nervous. He laughs. "Actually, I was going to say you're my everything." Your face scrunches up and you smack his chest half-heartedly. "Vernon! That's even worse!" He can't help but beam up at you. "Maybe, but you feel better now, don't you?" He's right.

Chan: “We’re so fucking late.” The words rush out of your mouth as you toss the sheets off of you, grabbing for any fresh clothes you can access easily that might make a bit of sense when paired together. Chan rolls around in the bed. It doesn’t appear he plans to get a move on any time soon despite being very late for your brunch plans with your friends. “Chan! Shower. Now.” He groans, covering his eyes with his forearm as if not seeing you will make the situation disappear. You take a deep breath to calm yourself. “Chan, we need to get into the shower. Right now.” You’ve never seen him spring to life so quickly, suddenly on his feet and guiding you towards the bathroom with a hand on the small of your back. “You’re right, we do.” The emphasis in his tone makes you roll your eyes. Of course he’s more focused on the showering together part and not so much on the we’re-really-fucking-late part. The second you’re inside the bathroom, you start peeling off your clothing and he doesn’t hesitate to follow your lead, leaving you both naked in front of each other for the first time in under a minute. The smirk on his face calls for another eye roll from you. “Okay, if you’re done staring, can we just—” You don’t get to finish before he’s teasing you. “Y/n, if you wanted to get me naked so badly, you could’ve just asked~”

#th: svt #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen reactions

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space-man2 · 6 months

Text

My Former Student

Picture my shock when I opened my hotel room and found my former star student from the third-year Botany class. Jordan Harris, in the flesh, literally. I've always imagined him to be a chubby guy underneath the thick hoods he always wore. Never did I think that he was a muscular god underneath!

"Mr. Perry!" Jordan exclaimed. His eyes snapped open, and the shock caused him to drop his phone. It fell on top of his discarded clothes.

"J- Jordan," I double-checked the hotel door to confirm I was in the correct room, ensuring my contact on the "Rent-a-Body" app was accurate. It says 1409. like in the chat. I had no clue who I was chatting with in the app, considering I went for the cheapest mystery body package. Occasionally, you end up with a twink; Then, mostly, it could be someone decent, but there are rare moments when you discover a diamond in the rough. You get whoever, and that's the mystery behind the affordability. I am a washed-up Botany teacher who could barely afford his mortgage, and that's why this is the one I could afford.

I looked at Jordan and memories of who he was and what he was supposed to be flashed in my mind. He was my star student, the brightest I've seen in the decades of teaching. He was a bit of a recluse, often coming up to me to do solo or group projects. I imagined him starting his PhD now and not here, sweaty and half-naked.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"You're Perry164, right?" Jordan asked, to which I nodded. "Then you're the client who will be possessing my body for a week."

"I get that. But why are you here?" I approached Jordan's side. My mind is wilding at the prospect of getting those thick biceps and beefy pecs. But he needs answers because it feels strange to possess the body of my former star student.

Jordan didn't need additional explanation to realize what I meant. "Did you imagine me spending the next eight years of my life in the laboratory and getting my post-graduate diplomas?" Jordan saw my nod and chuckled. "You know I'm a pragmatic guy, Mr. Perry. I'm earning more money here in a month than what I would make in a year as a researcher."

"But are you worried? People might do bad things while in your body. It's too risky." I guess this was the caring professor oozing from me.

"There are risks, yes," Jordan grabbed my hand and led it to his chest. He squeezed my hand, compelling me to grasp his warm, dense flesh. I followed his whim, and he cooed a hushed moan from it. "Will you do bad things, Mr. Perry?" He asked in a low, seductive tone. I never imagined I would see this side of him.

"I… I suppose not." I said, my voice heavy with apprehension.

Jordan grabbed my head and pulled me closer to his chest. He must have noticed that I've been staring at it for some time now. I pressed my nose on his right nipple, then gave it apprehensive licks. Jordan mewled a louder moan, and when I knew he was in the moment, I indulged him by pleasing his nipple until it was erect and hard. Underneath, I lifted the fabric of his underwear and grabbed his thick, throbbing rod. Our bodies ground and rubbed into one warm, sweaty mess.

I saw him reach for something on the night table and pop a pill in his mouth. Just as he swallowed the pill, my head was suddenly engulfed by the flesh of his chest. It was as thick as honey and as hot as a furnace.

"Relax…" Jordan said in a comforting voice as he combed my hair. His firm hand pushed me deeper until darkness covered my vision. I felt my heart rising from the panic, and it intensified when I could not breathe. "It will be over soon, Mr. Perry."

Jordan's body swallowed me whole. There was darkness, but I could still feel the weight pressing on my body, crushing me from every direction. But amid that feeling, there was also strength. Then I opened my eyes, and the searing light from the hotel lamp seared through. I scanned the room but couldn't spot Jordan anywhere. My chest heaved harder, and my body sweated more intensely than I could recall. When I looked down, I found not my body but the body of my former student attached to me. His chest rose high and fell deep, his muscles twitched, and his cock throbbed long and at the peak of its pleasure. Before the second was over, Jordan's speed erupted from it, surging high in the air and spraying anywhere they could land.

"Fu- FUCK! HNGGGG AAAHHHH~~" I closed my eyes and screamed as pleasures of unimaginable magnitudes rocked my body. "Aah! Oh god! I can't!" Little did I realize — I was cursing and moaning with Jordan's deep, seductive voice. I grabbed my cock and tried my best to contain the sensations, but my struggles were fruitless as the ebbs of pleasure continued to weave through my body. I writhed on the bed, hoping to survive through the ordeal. When I thought it was finished, more would come out, forcing me to scream delectable moans that only served to prolong this climax.

But eventually, good things came to a mellow end. My chest was evenly coated with cum, and I rubbed them across while groping my beefy pecs. I smelled the built-up aroma from my sweaty armpits and drowned myself in the invasion of alluring pheromones. It wasn't even an hour, and I've greatly enjoyed my time in this body. Six more days remain. I know I'm going to have so much fucking fun in this body.

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#body possession #male possession #possession #male body possession

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seasonsbloom · 1 year

Text

all the love (under a mistletoe) . benedict bridgerton

pairing ; benedict bridgerton x female!reader

synopsis ; modern!au. you have been in love with your best friend's older brother for years. on Christmas eve, things finally come to a head.

wc ; 6k

warnings ; explicit lanugage, some allusions to reader having a shitty family, christmas angst, pining, one mention of margaret thatcher

note: i'm not british (english isn't even my first language) so pls excuse any inaccuracies in any slang etc etc... also this was supposed to be a smutty thing and no instead it's exclusively tooth-rotting fluff so I'd like to apologize.... merry Christmas??? if anybody does want a steamy part two... well, hit me up I guess!

i stole the title from britney spears' my only wish (this year)!

You never thought something like Christmas at Aubrey Hall could exist outside the hour-and-a-half runtime of Hallmark movies. They've got it all - the stockings above the merrily crackling fireplace, the Christmas crackers twinkling on a long table, the boughs of holly climbing up doorways. It's like a Selfridges on the 21st of December just vomited all over the place.

"Seriously," you say, blinking in a mixture of awe and fear, "how big is this thing?"

Eloise, much more accustomed to her family's display of wealth and Bridgerton harmony, shrugs without looking away from her phone screen. "No idea. Benedict is like 6 feet, and that thing is twice his size, so, like… 12 feet? I don't know, it's Christmas. You do the math."

She turns away, still glued to an Instagram page plastered with pink graphics informing about various social issues in carefully-designed typography, and leaves you standing alone in the entrance hall. If you didn't like the Bridgertons so much, you'd be the first to say their Christmas tree is obnoxious. It's a ridiculous thing, wide enough to commandeer half the room. It's covered top to bottom in tinsel, dark blue ornaments dangling from every branch and reflecting the light until the thing looks less than a tree and more like a hallucination one might have two hours into an LSD trip.

The London townhouse you've crashed at more than once after a night on the town gone to shambles is impressive enough, but the Brdigerton's ancestral home in the countryside is a whole other beast. From the sprawling gardens to the sheer endless rooms, from the stucco ceilings to the servant stairs, from the life-size portraits of nineteenth-century family members to the white marble busts, you half expect a tourist group to round the corner at any moment. You're pretty sure you saw a hedge maze on your way in.

Sure, you've known your college best friend Eloise Bridgerton was loaded, but you didn't expect this. Then again, her sister is married to a Duke and shows up on the Sun's front page semi-regularly, so maybe this one was on you.

"So what do we think? Sufficiently Christmas-y or too much?"

You sink your teeth into the tail-end of a scream, letting out a strangled sound instead. Benedict Bridgerton really is six foot tall, and fuck him for that. Couldn't he at least have been some sensible height? Five reasonable feet and seven nice inches? Has he got to be perfect? Has he got to be the six feet you've been dreaming about for the past four years in increasingly more frenzied fashions?

He stands with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, with his hair tousled and his face relaxed into the same friendly, good-natured smile he always gives you.

"Uh… What?" Immediately, you curse your lack of eloquence. And earlier on the ride over, you'd sworn to yourself that, for once, you wouldn't act like an actual idiot in front of him.

Benedict, grinning, points forward. "The tree."

"Oh." You crane your neck back to look at the star mounted to the top, floating somewhere above the marble railing hugging the walkway to the second floor. "Well. It's very… big."

Benedict chuckles. "Yeah, I agree. I did tell Mom it was excessive, but she insisted. I'm pretty sure Hyacinth would mutiny if she ordered anything under ten feet."

You hum, faintly wondering what it must feel like to get a tree, let alone one big enough to get put up in front of the Rockefeller center. "Hyacinth can be pretty persuasive," you acquiesce, thinking with a shudder of the time the prepubescent girl stared you down until you gave her your brand-new Charlotte Tillbury lipstick. Sort of like being bullied out of your lunch money.

"You can say that again."

Benedict falls silent, and for a moment, you just stand there, side by side, staring up at the tree. Dean Martin drifts over from the dining room. Your stomach is on the most terrifying rollercoaster ride of its life.

Then, out of nowhere, Benedict says, "You're wet, by the way."

"I…" You splutter. "What?"

He nods down toward the floor. "Your shoes, I mean. You're soaking the rug."

You follow the line of his eyes down to your boots, still caked in the snow and sludge you drudged up on the way up the ten-mile-long driveway. A grey puddle has accumulated around you.

"Bugger," you mutter. "Eloise did say I could leave the shoes on…."

A conspiratorial grin crosses Benedict's face. He says, "Remember when you and El caught me smoking that joint in the study? I won't tell if you won't."

This is the thing: Worse than Benedict's six feet, worse than his messy hair and blue eyes and dimples, worse than all of that, is that he's actually nice. A genuinely good guy who talks to you like you're more than just his little sister's best friend, more than the annoying girl that gets invited to family holidays because her home life isn't the best, who moons over him at every turn. That's the thing that keeps you hoping, stubbornly, stupidly.

"Maybe you should go change for dinner," he suggests. "I'll take your suitcase up for you."

"You don't have to!" you protest, even as he's already bending over to retrieve it, even as you're secretly glad you won't have to try and lug that thing up all those stairs yourself.

"It's fine." Benedict waves you away, then tests the weight of the suitcase. "Jesus. I thought you were only staying for three days. What the hell did you pack in here?"

The sight of your bedroom floor at home, every inch covered with discarded clothes and toiletries and last-minute Christmas present purchases, overcomes you like a war flashback. "Uh… Books," you say, falling into step beside him as you climb the stairs together. "I brought a lot of books."

If Benedict knows you're one of the worst liars in England, he doesn't let it on. Instead, he hums Wham! 's greatest hit while ascending the stairs two steps at a time. You try your best not to stare at his butt when he overtakes you and focus instead on the plush velvet carpet and the actual footsteps you leave on it, cringing.

You follow him down a long corridor, past decorative Chinese-style vases filled with out-of-season greenhouse flowers. "This is your room," Benedict says, pushing the door at the end of the hall, somewhat separate from the others, open with his hip. "Eloise is just down the hall."

Like everything else in Aubrey Hall, the room is so tasteful you're scared to touch anything. Held exclusively in shades of pastels, in the softest blues, pinks, and creams, a huge four-poster bed is pushed to one wall, flanked on both sides by nightstands. The opposite side of the room is covered in floor-to-ceiling French windows that offer a spectacular view of the grounds, powdered with snow. Somebody lit a fire in here too, and above the mantle…

"Oh, God," you squeak, staring at a huge oil painting depicting perhaps the most miserable-looking man you have ever seen. Margaret Thatcher and her iron lady posturings have nothing on this bloke.

"Right, that's Uncle Barnaby." Benedict deposits your suitcase on a stuffed armchair. "Us kids just call him Uncle Fester."

"Yeah," you say slowly. "That checks out."

Benedict laughs. "Sorry, you got stuck in this one. All the other guest rooms are in the West wing, and Mom figured you'd be more comfortable not being that far away from everybody else."

The West wing. You get the sudden, spectacular image of yourself in an ankle-length lace nightgown wandering down stone hallways with nothing to light the way but a single, flickering candle. If you can fantasize about Gothic romances set in your own home, you decide, you should start thinking about downsizing.

"Right." Benedict runs a hand through his hair, and you track the movement, watching the muscles rippling in his forearm. He's wearing a grey cashmere sweater, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The sight could make a stronger woman swoon. "I'll let you get settled in."

You don't want him to leave. All your time spent with Benedict is stolen, clipped, bookended by family dinners, or movie nights with his sister. The closest you've ever gotten to him was when you all crowded into the back of a cab on your way to a club, his thigh pressed against your own and his arm awkwardly angled somewhere behind your neck. Just half an inch of space between you, but your ribcage cracked open like somebody wedged a crowbar in there.

"Where are you sleeping?" It's a desperate attempt to prolong the moment, to keep him in this room alone with you for just a little longer, and you regret the question the moment it's out. Either he now thinks you're a stalker or, even worse, that you're secretly trying to draw up a layout plan of the estate to prepare for your inevitable heist. You wouldn't be surprised if there were several million pounds in cash stashed in a vault somewhere in Aubrey Hall, and rent in London has reached astronomic heights. Who could blame you for indulging?

But Benedict doesn't look concerned. Instead, he pauses just a step or two from you, close enough that his shoulder brushes yours, and answers, "I'm right next door. Just knock if you need help with anything."

For a split second, Benedict's hand finds the curve of your spine, fingertips pressing through the thick knit sweater and painting a shiver down your back. It goes through you like a bolt of lightning.

Then he draws back as if nothing happened, gives you a crooked, curling smile, and leaves, pulling the door shut behind him.

You drop down onto the mattress with a groan, bury your face in the 400-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets, and pretend you're not actively trying to strangle yourself.

"Well," you mumble, voice muffled by the pillowcase, "Happy Christmas to me."

Christmas dinner with the Bridgertons is a bizarre experience. Everybody talks over each other, Hyacinth and Gregory chuck spoonfuls of peas at each other, Colin spills a whole ladle of gravy across the tablecloth, Anthony and his wife Kate spend half the meal whispering to each other and the other half stealing kisses, Eloise starts debating politics with Simon (who isn't half as stuffy as you expected a duke to be) at the top of her lungs, and Benedict drinks at least five glasses of sparkling wine before his mother takes the bottle from him.

You watch the whole thing with a feeling in your stomach like a bullet wound.

After a dessert of indefinable mush Hyacinth swore up and down was her homemade plum pudding, you move to a large sitting room. There is a second tree in here, this one a little less obnoxious and covered in homemade ornaments, the exploits of eight children and countless pre-Christmas arts and crafts sessions. The crackling fire paints flushes into the family's cheeks and gives the whole room a homey, rustic atmosphere that seems at odds with the overall elegance of the house.

Everybody is allowed to open one present. You think you see the instantaneous regret on Violet Bridgerton's face when her youngest son unpacks his new portable speakers with a whoop of joy loud enough to bust several eardrums. Watching the pandemonium unfold before you, you sit squished into a corner of the sofa beside Eloise, your hands trapped under your thighs, and try not to feel out of place.

Maybe this was a mistake, you think to yourself. Maybe you shouldn't have intruded on a family holiday as you are, regardless of Eloise's invitation. It must have been a pity thing anyway, what with you saying you were just going to stay in London for Christmas, in your shitty flat with the broken radiator and the leaking pipes. You pretty much guilt-tripped her into that by mentioning the frozen curry you were planning to get from the Tesco frozen section, now that you think about it, and God, you were definitely forcing yourself on them, weren't you, and they were all just way too nice to mention it and…

"Here," Violet's voice tears you from the downward rollercoaster ride about to plunge neck-deep into the pond of anxiety. "Merry Christmas."

She places a flat present in your lap, wrapped in deer-print paper.

"Oh," you say softly, and your chest feels tight like somebody is pulling a cord taut around it, "you didn't have to…."

"It's just a little thing." Violet has the kind of smile so warm you suspect it could melt ice cubes within seconds. "We're so happy to have you for Christmas."

You feel self-conscious as you unwrap the present, aware of all eyes on you. The paper reveals a picture frame, simple yet tasteful dark wood that feels smooth and supple against your skin. Behind the glass is a watercolor painting, a study of a tulip. The pink petals seem almost life-like in their detail as if a drop of dew should drip off the edge and roll down the picture any moment. You can practically feel it, wet and cold against your fingertip.

"Eloise said you're very fond of flowers. I thought you might find a place for it in your room."

For a head-spinning, gut-wrenching moment, you think you're going to cry. "I… thank you," you choke out. "It's… lovely."

Violet smiles and pats your hand. "It wouldn't be Christmas without a present. You didn't think we'd forget you, did you?"

They move on to Colin, who tears at his wrapping paper with such eagerness he gets a papercut, but you feel stuck. There is a lump in your throat, and you clutch the picture too tightly. Somehow, you realize, you did think they'd forget you. Only that's not really right. To forget you, they'd have to think about you first, and you can't imagine any of the Bridgertons wasting a single thought on you, apart maybe from Eloise. Sure, you spend more time at their house than in your own flat, but that doesn't mean anything, does it? It's not like your own family misses you much this Christmas. You've gotten more than used to being invisible.

"I want this one," Benedict says and, to your horror, lifts one of the presents you left there earlier. "I like the sustainable vibe."

Feeling obliged to get presents for everyone, you'd spent yesterday running through a department store for at least three hours. Mostly it's boxes of chocolates and a book for Eloise, stuff that diminished your already meager savings more acutely than you'd planned for. And then it had come time to choose something for Benedict, and you'd spent an embarrassing amount of time agonizing over possible presents. By the time you'd made it home, only to realize you'd forgotten to get wrapping paper, all the stores were closed. So you'd wrapped everything in the newspaper the ancient couple living next door hadn't picked up off their welcome mat yet. They're in Cardiff visiting her sister for the holiday, and you're supposed to be watering their plants while they're gone. Which is a task that might be a bit hard to accomplish, seeing as you're currently several hours outside of London.

"Oh, that's… that's mine," you pipe up, then immediately clear your throat. You've somehow managed to sound like a cartoon mouse. An especially squeaky, pathetic cartoon mouse.

Benedict glances at you, gives you a smile he most certainly inherited from his mother, and says, "Perfect."

Whatever that's supposed to mean.

He has a similar approach to unwrapping presents as his younger brother, but at least he doesn't injure himself in the process. As you watch him, your heart beats somewhere in your throat. Suddenly you're right back where Violet picked you up, on the verge of anxiety about to perform one of history's most spectacular dives.

It might be dramatic to say that your whole life depends on whether your best friend's older brother likes the gift you picked out for him, but apparently, that's where you are now. In the most pathetic turn of events of all time, you're pretty sure the trajectory of your future hinges on this moment.

The improvised wrapping paper floats to the carpet like that plastic bag Katy Perry immortalized in her magnum opus Firework. For a moment, Benedict says nothing, staring at the gift in his hand.

"I can… If you don't like it, I can just return it," you say, even as you start frantically searching your memory for where in the world you put that receipt. Your heart is pumping blood through your veins at a pace that makes you dizzy. "It's not a big deal. It's fine, it was…."

Benedict holds the box of watercolours in front of his chest like some sacred artefact. He opens the lid and peers inside, examining the different shades wordlessly. Then he closes it, looks up, and right at you. A beat passes with him just looking at you, with your heart fluttering its feathery wings against the cage of your teeth, with you squirming in the spot. And then Benedict smiles, wide and bright and honest. "I love it," he says, "thank you. It's fantastic."

Your chest caves in.

"Oh," you whisper, half deaf over the rushing of blood in your ears. "Okay. Cool."

For a second, it looks like Benedict will say something else, like there are words forming on the tip of his tongue, and you feel like you're clinging to a cliff's edge by the tips of your nails. But then Hyacinth pulls the box from his hands to look at the paint, to run her fingers over the shades, and the moment passes.

If somebody asked you later, you wouldn't be able to tell them how the rest of the unwrapping goes. It's all a blur, a mirage of different exclamation and laughter and more or less well-thought-out presents that passes in front of you like a supercut, all of it accompanied by a playlist consisting mainly of Mariah Carey and Michael Bublé. You stay in your spot on the couch, still sitting on your hands, trying not to think about the way Benedict looked at you. Trying not to dream.

When the younger kids rope Colin and Anthony into a game of charades that requires an exorbitant amount of physical movement, you help the others clean up the abandoned shambles of the dinner table. Benedict is doing the dishes in the kitchen when you enter carrying a pale of plates so high you see nothing but the dried gravy Jackson Pollock sprinkled all across the edges.

"Careful." Benedict's fingers brush yours as he takes the plates from you and places them gingerly on the countertop.

"Thanks," you mutter, then spend just one second staring at the broad expanse of his back, holding your hands uselessly in front of you, before turning back toward the dining room, intent on finding something else to occupy yourself with.

Benedict's voice stops you. "Do you want to help me?"

You whirl on your heel embarrassingly fast, clearing your throat when you find him smiling at you. "Uhm. Sure."

He nods toward a dish towel on a rack and asks, "I wash, you dry?"

"Yeah. Sounds amazing." For a second, you genuinely consider slamming your head into one of the kitchen cabinets. Since when has drying dishes ever sounded amazing?

Benedict gives no indication that he thinks you might be the weirdest girl he's ever met, though, so you take that as consolation. He's rolled up the sleeves of his dark blue button-down again, his arms elbow-deep in the sudsy water of the sink, and you pretend not to notice the droplets running down his skin. Outside the window, snow falls in thick ribbons, covering more of the grounds. The faint sound of the Bridgertons enjoying themselves drifts into the kitchen's silence.

You accept the pan he was washing and start running your towel over it. A wet stain soaks into your dress where you press the Teflon-coated edge to your stomach.

"We can put the plates in the dishwasher later," Benedict says, filling the silence gaping like a canyon. "But I think the big stuff we should do by hand. Pots and pans and all that."

Unsure how to answer, you nod. Your mind is whirling, reeling, somersaulting. For so long, you've wanted to be alone with Benedict, have imagined it, dreamed it, conjured it up in your mind. And now here you are, and you can't seem to open your mouth. And it's not even like you have nothing to say, quite the opposite. You have so much to say you don't know where to start.

Like: You look great in that shirt. I hope you like my present. I think you're a great artist. If the Torys keep passing that PM cap around instead of letting us vote, I'm going to scream. I think capybaras are criminally underrated, and I'm glad they're having their moment on social media. How do you feel about turnips? I might have been half in love with you since the first time I met you.

Benedict, putting an end to your spiral, says, "It can be a lot, right?"

"Sorry?"

"The whole thing." He jerks his head in the direction of the dining room, an indulgent smile on his face that tells you all you need to know about Benedict's feelings for his family. "The whole Bridgerton Christmas chaos."

You shrug, lowering your head so he can't see your face, can't see whatever emotion might betray you. "I like it."

"Even Hyacinth's plum pudding? I think that could pass for a murder weapon."

"Yeah," you say, and find that your voice is much too sincere. "Even that. It's not… I've never had this." You cut yourself off immediately, not even sure why you said it in the first place. It's much too easy to be honest with Benedict, and it scares you in ways you can't describe.

"What do you mean?"

It feels like an impossible task to look at him, so you don't. You're too afraid of what you'll find - pity, maybe, or incomprehension. How could someone like Benedict possibly ever understand?

If you turn on a TV around Christmas time and watch a commercial or a movie, if you walk down a shopping street and look at the advertisements playing on screens or smiling from posters, if you pick up a holiday-themed novel, there is a certain feeling being sold to you: of warmth and joy and community. Of smiling grandparents and colorful sweaters. Of presents heaping like molehills beneath gleaming trees. Of roasts and mashed potatoes and peas and carrots and Christmas puddings and beaming families devouring them in perfect harmony. It's the same feeling you encountered right here in this house, in the perfect rooms populated with perfect Bridgertons. In those images, people are always happy.

Christmas, to you, has always been terrifying.

"It's not…." You hesitate. "In my family," you say finally, and hope your voice sounds steadier than it feels, "it's never been good. It was just a lot of yelling, and… I've never had this. The laughing together and enjoying each other's company and all that stuff. The love. And I… I look at it, and I can tell, you see? That it's just so normal to you guys, I think maybe you don't even notice it. But I do. And it just… it doesn't really seem fair."

You don't wait for an answer, instead turning away from him in a way you hope makes it clear that this is not an avenue of conversation you want to pursue. It's like you've just stripped yourself bare in front of him, exposed yourself to his ridicule and his gaze under the unforgiving kitchen lights. It's like you have handed him a map to the innermost parts of yourself. All those ugly, pathetic parts you've spent your life hiding.

Benedict seems to understand because the next thing he says is, "Thank you again for the present."

For a beat, you close your eyes. There, you think. You've got what you wanted. He's ignoring it. He's looking away.

You chance a glance at his side profile, at the furrow between his brows as he scrubs at a particularly stubborn bit of charred carrot sticking to the pot. "You're welcome," you answer. "I'm glad you didn't think it was shitty."

"Why would I think that? It's perfect." When you chuckle, shrug, when the self-deprecating note sneaks into the sound, Benedict ceases his scrubbing to look at you. "I mean it. It's really special."

"It's not even…." You hesitate, wondering if maybe you're fishing for compliments here. Whatever, the validation feels nice, and Benedict seems willing to give it to you, even if he probably finds you annoying. "It's not even a very creative gift. All things considered, you know?"

Everybody knows Benedict likes painting, even though there was some botched stint with the Academy a few years back. He eventually dropped out, but you don't think his aspirations changed.

He shrugs and turns back to the pot. "It is to me. My family all seem to think I'm not serious about the whole art thing, so it's nice to be acknowledged. It doesn't happen that often."

You pause to glance at him. Thrown into relief by the golden spill of the light, bracketed on one side by the winter night, for a moment, he's so pretty you feel your stomach clench.

"But you're so…" You break off, swallowing. Your mouth is so dry your tongue sticks to the roof. "Everybody sees you."

"What do you mean?" Benedict looks at you with real confusion scrunching up his face, and you feel almost stupid.

Helplessly, you shrug, dry the last drops of water off the pan, and put it down on the counter. "Just… People always notice you, you know? When you enter a room or when you go somewhere. I just thought… I thought you must feel really acknowledged. Like all of the time. I don't know."

Your heart is beating so furiously that you wonder if he can hear it. Embarrassment leaves a bitter taste on your tongue as the words escape you. Now he really should file a restraining order, you think. It would be perfectly justified, with you exposing just how much attention you've been paying to everything he does. God, you're a freak, aren't you?

When he smiles at you, there's something sad to the expression. "I've noticed," he says, forming the words carefully, "that what most people acknowledge about me is my family. But that's not the same as acknowledging me. That's not the same as seeing me."

For a moment, you imagine what it must be like. There was such warmth in that room earlier, such joy and love, but there were so many people, too. All of them loud and charming and lovely. All of them wonderful. All of them captivating in their own way. How easy must it be to get swallowed up by the sheer force of all of them? How easy must it be to feel passed over as the second of eight children, always surpassed by somebody else? Always somebody cleverer or funnier or more lovable? Sometimes, you think, it must be a lonely thing to never be alone. Sometimes, you think, he must feel invisible.

"I do," you say, and your face feels hot, your voice sounds far away, your palms are sweaty. "I see you."

Something in Benedict's gaze changes, something transforms, and then he whispers your name, holds it in his mouth like something precious. "I think you…." He swallows, and his eyes rake over your face as if he's searching for something, as if he's hoping for something, and finally, he pushes on, his voice as uncertain as you feel, "I think there's so much more here than you realize. Because I do, too. I see you. And I know you're lonely, and I know you're scared, maybe even as scared as I am, but I think... I think maybe you don't have to be."

It's like being on a frozen lake, right in the middle, side by side, moving step by step, nothing solid in the world but his hand in yours.

He takes a step closer to you at the same time that you move forward, his hip bumping yours, his gaze on your mouth, his knuckles knocking against yours, your breaths hitched, your hands shaking, your head spinning…

"I've got more dishes," Kate chirps, stepping into the kitchen. Immediately, you and Benedict jump apart. You busy yourself with drying the pot furiously as he accepts the new pile of tableware, eyes on anything but you. Then, completely ignoring her brother-in-law, Kate wraps an arm around your shoulder and leads you away. "I'm supposed to tell you guests don't have to do dishes. And that's coming from the hostess herself."

If Kate noticed anything off between you two, she doesn't comment. But you could swear you see her casting a long, searching look at you when she deposits you on the couch.

You spend a little longer enjoying the overall Christmas charm of the night. You and Eloise pull apart a cracker together, put the paper crowns on each other's heads, and sit on the rug by the fireplace for hours, chatting, ignoring the general mess around you. When Violet starts making people sing Christmas songs whether they want to or not, you excuse yourself. You've been hiding yawns in the crook of your elbow for the past half hour anyway.

On his way back in from the bathroom, Benedict almost bumps into you in the doorway.

"Oh," he says, steadying you with a hand on your shoulder, and then you both say sorry simultaneously. By now, the eggnog and the absolute shame of whatever passed between you in the kitchen have caught up to you and you giggle like a school girl, staring at the bit of skin exposed where his shirt is unbuttoned.

"Off to bed?" Benedict asks. His voice is gentle enough that, for a moment, the yearning resonates somewhere in your bones.

You nod. "I'm tired."

"Okay." It might be wishful thinking, but he sounds almost disappointed to your ears. "Sleep well, yeah?"

It's definitely wishful thinking. Right?

"Hey, Ben!" You glance over your shoulder to find Hyacinth grinning at the two of you with something in her eyes you can only describe as the glint of the devil. A dawning sense of horror sends a shiver down your spine. "You're, like, right under the mistletoe, you realize that, yeah?"

Following the line pointed out by her finger with your eyes, you feel the dread pooling in your stomach. And lo and behold, above your eyes, fixed to the doorway, is an unassuming twig of mistletoe.

Have you mentioned that you feel like you're in a Hallmark movie? One with an exceptionally uncreative screenwriter?

When you finally tear your wide eyes away from the mistletoe, feeling helpless, you find Benedict already looking at you. "Ignore her," he says, smiling the smile of the long-suffering. "Hyacinth just wants to stir up trouble. It's fine, nobody's going to make us…."

"Well." From her perch on the arm of Anthony's chair, a saint-like expression on her face, Kate looks once from you to Benedict. "It is tradition."

And then, to your horror, she winks at you. Your stomach plummets down to your feet.

Benedict stares at Kate like she just told him she thinks the moon landing was faked. "I… I don't think…."

Anthony, after exchanging some private glance probably only decipherable to spouses, shrugs and leans back in his chair. "I agree," he says. "It is tradition."

"And a very nice tradition, too," Daphne affirms, crossing her legs and taking a dainty sip from her wine glass. No wonder not even the gossip columns ever have anything bad to say about her. She's perfect. "It would be a shame to let that opportunity go to waste."

With a look on his face you can describe only as aghast, Benedict turns to you. “I… uhm… Is it… okay?"

If you lived in the nineteenth century, you'd be asking a servant to bring you your smelling salts by now. Slowly, you nod, even though you're so dizzy, you're not sure you don't completely mess up the movement. "It… it's fine, yeah," you agree.

Benedict's hand finds the side of your face. You're so aware of all the eyes on you that, for a moment, you think you might be sick all over Benedict's shoes. He's so close you can feel his breath on your face and smell his cologne. Your toes are going numb.

"You sure?" he mumbles, leaning even closer, only an inch separating you. He has very kind eyes. If you said no now, you know he wouldn't even be mad.

Beyond words, beyond any thought past oh god I can't believe this is really happening oh dear god he's about to kiss me, you just nod.

"Oh, for god's sake!" That's Simon. "Just kiss the girl and be done with it, Benedict."

So he does. It's little more than a quick press of dry mouth to dry mouth, but your heart almost beats out of your chest. You feel his fingers tighten against the side of your face, feel his slightly-chapped lips, taste the eggnog and the chocolate and the wine. Then, when he pulls away, just for a beat, he lingers, his exhale a gasp, and for that instant, it's like you're the last two people on the planet, like he's the only thing that matters, like nothing existed before you and nothing will after you're gone. Suspended in time.

"Great!" Eloise calls, throwing her hands into the air. "First, Colin starts going out with Penelope, and now Benedict is snogging you. Will you people ever leave my friends alone?"

A collective burst of laughter travels through the room, and then the chattering returns, the paused music resumes, and you stand there, unsure what to do with yourself, unsure how to continue on when it feels like the whole world just shifted an inch to the left and nothing is where it's supposed to be anymore.

Benedict's hand is solid against the small of your back. "Will you… will you stay a little longer?" he asks, his voice hesitant.

It doesn't sound like he just means tonight. You don't think he just means tonight.

You swallow, exhale a shaky breath. And then you say, keeping your eyes on nothing but him, "Yeah. I'll stay."

Benedict beams. It's a sight that lights up his whole face, rivaling that ridiculous Christmas tree out in the Bridgerton's entrance hall. "Lovely," he says. For a beat, his eyes flicker back to your mouth, but then he just grins. "Merry Christmas."

You can't help it - you laugh. There's relief in the sound, the kind you haven't felt in a long, long time. Here, with the fire crackling and Gregory and Francesca delivering what could perhaps be the worst rendition of All I Want for Christmas Is You the world has ever known, it feels a little like maybe, just maybe, being seen isn't half as scary as you thought it was.

"Yeah," you agree and slide your fingers into the spaces between his. "Merry Christmas, Benedict."

You never thought something like Christmas at Aubrey Hall could exist outside the hour-and-a-half runtime of Hallmark movies. But, God, are you happy you were wrong.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fluff #christmas #mine #f:atl

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akwolfgrl · 19 days

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I'm a great fuck but better lover part 6

Zoro entered the boys' room. It was late but still earlier than his usual time. When he placed his swords on the coach, he noticed a new extra large hammock strung up. Sanji lay curled up inside. It was safe to assume that this was the surprise waiting for him that Sanji had mentioned during dishes. Zoro slid off his shoes, shirt, and pants, leaving his boxers on before sliding into the hammock next to his boyfriend. He pressed Sanji's slimmer body against his own, his head tucked under his chin, the other man's long legs trapped his own snuggling closer. Zoro could get used to this.

When he woke, Sanji was gone, only Luffy's snores to keep him company, Usopp was on watch last night. Zoro grabbed the clothes he had on yesterday and grabbed his swords from the coach. He went straight for the kitchen, and he paused to look inside before he opened the door the rest of the way. Sanji left it open a cack so Mr. Noodles could come and go as he pleased. He was sitting at the table, a cup of tea by his side, a small plate with half a pice of toast with red jam on top, a cigarette in one hand and his pen in the other. His blond hair with it slight curls glowing in the morning light. Zoro opened the door and made his way inside.

“Your up early today,” Sanji spoke, taking a drag from his cigarette. “Come sit by me, I was just working on your notebook,”

“My notebook?” Zoro decided to lay across the bench the best he could and lay his head in Sanji's lap. His boyfriend's free hand ran his long fingers through his short hair.

“While in town I picked up a pack of colored notebooks to keep records on food prenceses for everyone, right now I'm just transferring the info I already have,” Sanji explained taking a sip of his tea. “Did you want tea or toast before bakefast? I made Rose Jam form the roses you got me."

“Nah, what's for breakfast anyway?”

“Soufflé pancakes and okonomiyaki for you, of course lots of meat for Luffy,”

“Okonomiyaki? I haven't had that in years, thire was a street cart that used to make the best okonomiyaki I had some when I said my goodbyes before I left,” Zoro had spent hours at Kuinas grave knowing he wouldn't see her again until he achieved his goal.

“Zoro, we need to talk,” Zoro sat up, that did not sound good. But he couldn't think of anything that could be worng. He knew he was new to realships but he couldn't have fucked up that badly alredy…the crows nest incident not withstanding. “About sex, we shuld have talked before and more. I really don't want anthoer crows nest cry to happen,”

“Oh…OK? What do we need to talk about? It's just sex?”

“It stopped being just sex when you started spanking me, let alone edging, tieing me up and me choking you with my thighs,” Sanji listed off his cigarette bobbing while he spoke.

“Yah, I guess you've got a point,”

“So I'm no expert, but I know a few things about this, we already talked a bit about what we don't like, I guess add degadison to the list. We need to talk before trying new things I think, as much fun as it was to choke you with my thighs it was pretty fucking treffing, what if you didn't pinch me? What if I didn't feel it in time? Also we need to get better rope for the next time, rope burn is very unpleasant,”

“But I did pinch you, and I didn't pass out,” Zoro pointed out. “But I suppose your right,”

“So I was thinking maybe write down some hard and soft limits to start with maybe stuff you wish to try, like for me a hard limit is the head and face coverings, soft is the gags. I don't like them, but well, we do live in a shared space, so they might be necessary,” Sanji handed him the feathered pen and some paper. “I need to start breakfast, so how about we talk again after dinner,” Sanji gave him a kiss before heading to the fridge, taking his dishes with him

Zoro shoved the papper and the pen in his Haramaki and escaped to the crows nest. Once thire, he took one of his weights and got to work. As he got into the rhythm, he thought about what they had discussed. He had to think back on his prior experience about what he did and did not like.

He honestly didn't like being called Master/Slave/Daddy/Sir he didnt like saying it, ethior. It was just weird to him. Zoro honestly never had thought about this before, but for his Love-Cook, he'd give it ago.

#I'm a great fuck but better lover #one piece #fanfic #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x sanji #zosan

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4me2knowandyou2wonder · 5 months

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Teeth Headcanons for Modern Warfare Characters

guys! guys! ITS GHOST! I had fun with this one as I had complete and utter creative control. Shout out to the ao3 fic 'the Many Masks of Simon Riley' for the missing canine inspo! (its a great fic about Ghost with DID you should all check it out)

Now without further ado,

Ghost

All things considered, Ghost's teeth could be a lot worse off… (not really.)

Simon’s teeth grew in with a lot of crowding, and he was never really taught to brush his teeth by his family, (his mother tried but life was hectic, you all know) on top of this, he has a genetic propensity for cavities. He had figured out that it was important to brush his teeth regularly by the time he lost all his baby teeth though, so at least it wasn’t his adult teeth that were destroyed. At least, at first…

You can’t really brush your teeth when held by a cartel… any underlying cavities were left unchecked for 7 months and they ran rampant—a few new ones found a way into his mouth too.

Really, getting a few teeth knocked out and split in half by Roba was probably better for him… I guess. (He and his dentist can look on the bright side.) On top of knocking out cavities, losing a handful of chompers gave his teeth space to breathe. This not only fixed most of the crowding Simon had had going on since he was young but also let his wisdom teeth erupt from where they had been previously stopped, letting him get out of any required surgery.

Ghost now has 3 implants in his lower jaw and two on the top, (and quite a few crowns.) He would have about 2 more due to the loss of his back molars, but his wisdom teeth were quick to take their place so his dentist just lets them have their space and doesn’t wedge any more implants into his mouth. Most of his replacements are gold but the ones near the front (second incisor) are a version of implant that is just a bit too white against his cigarette-stained teeth. Ghost doesn’t mind.

The only tooth that bothers him is his right bottom canine. He also lost that one, only in a far more violent way, and there really was no hope of an implant. His dentist gave him a fake to put in place for aesthetics but he’s supposed to take it out to eat and he just can’t bother to use it. Especially not with his mask being in place all the time. If he knows he’s going to a bar or something where he doesn’t need to eat but will have his mask up, then maybe he’ll put it in, but he also might take it out to rest a cigarette in the little hole there. Who knows.

Ghost does brush his teeth now, anything to keep from having to spend *more* time at the dentist. He doesn’t really want to but figures it’s important enough to do. He doesn’t floss and keeps getting yelled at to start, his compromise was mouthwash, and his dentist gave in but was not convinced.

This one made me realize that if I’ve never seen the character's teeth before I have FAR too much power dfbdskjf.

No figures because there aren't any LMAO!! mmm maybe I'll just put one in for fun and consistency

#teeth hcs #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #cod mw2 #mw2 #cod #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod headcanons #mw22 #mw19 #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #ghost #ghost headcanons #simon riley #ghost call of duty #call of duty

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factual-fantasy · 5 months

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26 askss!! ✨💖🐻💖✨

@milk-powrit

XD actually, Bibi never minded being the shortest. Because Jangles and I never made fun of him for it. But he's probably happy that there's now 2 people short enough to give him proper hugs 🥺

And to be honest, I haven't thought too much out about character facts :0 other than Cici is a smarty pants and can be a lil sassy at times XD But in a harmless/charming way.

Also oh yeah, Gerald loves puns. XDD Although he hasn't had any cake before.. so idk what his favorite could be. What ever is the funniest flavor I suppose XDD

@luckyglasses

AAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD Happy holidays!! :}}

@deadly-skeleton123

Oh you're new to Tumblr? Ahhh word of advice then- If I may? It might be a good idea to change your profile picture. Tumblr has a big bot problem. And a lot of the bots have default profile pictures just like yours. A lot of people might see your account in their feed and just block/report on sight. Not fun.. also I suggest you do the same though, if someone with default profile picture, banner, no bio, no posts follows you... that's probaaaaably a bot and should be blocked--

ANYWAYS! So for the Captain Barnacles/Crab comic. I don't plan on finishing it. And the reason why I abandoned it was because the way I had written the comic had everyone acting out of character. The blood was over the top, it was too dramatic,, ugh.. I got tired of my own comic half way through making it. <XD

The comic was gonna end with the rest of the crew showing up, they take the Captain to the octopod, and Peso cries because "I was too scared to help the Captain.." Which is just stupid <XD

Peso would not cower in fear in this situation. Even if Captain Barnacles turned like that and became very scary. Peso has had an extended history of getting it together and braving through anything to help creatures in need. And if his own Captain/friend was hurt? Nothing would stop him. Nothing could scare him away.

In the perfect re-write, Peso would ace this situation. He would approach Barnacles perfectly and calm him down. He would patch the wound, guide him to the gups. Guide him into the octopod and into the med-bay. Expertly deal with the wound and clean up all the blood.

Sure maybe after everything was done he would cry a bit out of the stress of it all. But originally everyone else did everything for Peso because he was too scared to help the scARy CapTAIN OOOO!!

Nah, that dumb. Peso is way stronger than that. #justiceforpeso

I made one yeeeaaarrs ago when I was into Sonic. But it centered around a Sonic OC of mine. <XD I don't tend to do much insert OC stuff anymore..

I imagine Bonnie would just sigh and try to get through it on his own. And not go to Foxy for help.. Worse case scenario he gets overwhelmed and shuts down on stage and ruins the show. Which is fine by him. He'd think, "Serves them right for puttin me on that stage. Faz-bear entertainment deserves to have their show flop for how they've treated me.. for how they've treated us."

XDD Hey! That's Veggietales isn't it?

@elegysonnet

XD That's what I was thinkin! That, and they were basically fully fleshed out characters but their bodies just didn't exist yet. Since their future existence was so set in stone Jangles was able to connect to their minds..?? XD I guess??

Thank you so much!! :DD Also CAPTAIN BARNACALES FTWWW!! ✨💖🐻💖✨

@taizarack

XD New friend indeed! Cici is technically an old friend, she's existed longer than Jangles and Gerald! XD

@manybrokenquills

JOKES ON YOU I'M ALL OF THOSE THINGS XDD

Also thank you! I'm glad you've stuck around and like what you see! :DDD

@wildwitchofthewest

AAAAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDDDD

@smallangryartist

1: AAAA I'm glad it fooled you! When I drew it in I knew that anyone with a different Tumblr theme wouldn't be fooled.. but I'm glad I got at least 2 people! XDD

2: Also aww.. even if they were happy tears, sorry for making you cry! <XD

ALSO WAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DD Also also don't worry, I'm taking a nap and drinking water at the same time as we speak! XD

(Also also also that heart shattering might come sooner than you think..👀)

Nahh, my gnome is built different. All he needs to thrive is a steady supply of pepperoni pizza and a very large 3 inch deep puddle XD

@beryl-shade

Maybe! :0 At the very least I imagine they'd get along. My Seam is soft spoken, polite, mellow.. he's probably a nice person to share a cup of tea with! :}

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

@coolkoaladeer @thesweetishfish

@boringa55binch

Its hard to say, I didn't ever like.. try to replicate an art style and draw something unrelated. Like- if I was drawing in the gravity falls art style, I was drawing gravity falls stuff. I wouldn't draw in the gravity falls art style and draw random ocs and stuff. If that makes sense-

But maybe one style was easier to draw hands in than another. So I.. might have adopted some stuff..?? I guess??

I guess that would mean my art style developed off of the different franchises I made fanart from? If that's the case it was likely Gravity Falls, Sonic x, and Steven Universe..? Mostly?? XD Sorry this answer is all over the place-

Many actually! Its just unfortunate because all of them are giant comic ideas but I'm too wiped out from my 20k celebration to really draw any of themmmm... 😩sighhhh

@funtimespringscare101

XDDD I'm glad you like them! And I can imagine that they might be shy to hug new people- but Gerald probably wouldn't mind! XD

@ayoshivader

Since that statement I have re-written the timeline.. So who's to say any of that still stuck and what her motives were/are now..? 👀

<XD I've never played the paper mario games so that's why I've never drawn them.. it sounds really cute though! :D

Taking the quilt off does nothing, the quilt doesn't bring them to life either! Remember that Bibi could talk when he was a still picture and was brought to "life" without the use of a quilt or even any glowy effects. Also Jangles had a quilt as a drawing and was "brought to life" using a pen!

The point I'm getting at is, Pen? Quilt? It doesn't matter. None of these methods actually give the characters life. I do. All these fancy ways I seem to bring them to life are just for show <XD

@housome

XD The first thing that came to mind was Freddy telling Fredbear about Gregory.

Freddy: "I'm keeping a child hidden in the basement.."

Fredbear: "...you're keeping a CHILD in the BASEMENT??"

Freddy: "LISTEN ITS TO PROTECT HIM--"

Also thank you! :DD

Naahhh he'll be fine 😉

And yay! Cici and Gerald!!! XDD

To put it simply, fanart makes me feel bad. And Comments make me feel good. So I prefer comments to fanart. 👌

To complicate it a bit, when I post artwork I'm just sitting there all giddy waiting for the first "AKSJKASAU WAAAAA 😭😭😭" comment to pop up. When I get fanart I immediately get frustrated and uncomfortable. Fanart feels like stealing and usually invokes a negative reaction from me. So if people want to show their appreciation for my work, leaving comments is 100% more effective and preferred. 👍

Also thank you! :DD

@scp-16217

XD These are great match ups!

#my response #factual fam #fnaf security breach #octonauts #undertale #deltarune #the amazing digital circus

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 months

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salt-and-vinegar dreams

Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians Pairing: Percy/Annabeth Rating: T Word Count: 1256

Summary: Percy might have an evil, prophesizing grandpa hijacking his dreams, but he also has Annabeth, and she's welcome any time.

Based on Percy’s extensive and up-close experience of bullying and recess dynamics, Camp Half-Blood makes no sense. Sure, if he compares pretty much any aspect of his life among mostly humans to his life here, there are some fairly glaring differences, but this is what stands out:

Out there, a kid who wins a fight becomes the Toughest Kid, and nobody wants to mess with that kid. In here, a kid who wins a fight also becomes the Toughest Kid, but everybody wants to fight them to see how they measure up—even if, instead of pushing another kid down on the playground and kicking sand in their lunch, they clobbered the god of war with a humongous wave. Percy kinda gets it, in a weird way, like he’s kinda getting everything about this, being here, being who he is. But he’s also tired.

He’s tired of dodging Clarisse’s attempts to take her turn at him. He’s tired of turning his last conversation with Luke around and around in his mind until it becomes a whirlpool it’s hard to pull back from. He’s tired of the dreams. Sinister, persistent. Always at the cottage in Montauk, which really pisses Percy off because that’s their place, his and his mom’s, but as soon as things go all dark and foggy, he can’t keep Kronos out. Just once, he’d like to tell that trespassing asshole there’s no welcome mat for a reason, maybe slam the door in the face he keeps hidden under a hood like preserving maximum spookiness when Percy already knows who he is isn’t the lamest thing in either this world or the subbasement the Titans call home. Instead of being stuck in the front room, Percy would like to run deeper into the cottage to grab the baseball bat he knows is somewhere in his room (back of the closet? Under the bed?) and use it to crack that dumb lantern he carries. He’d like to rush Kronos before he reaches the door, keep him outside and chase him around, spraying him with the garden hose.

Yeah, there’s a lot Percy’d like to try. At the top of that list is a good night’s sleep. These new Kronos-flavoured dreams suck; like a watered-down salt and vinegar from the heavy fog. And when he wakes up? Clammy skin from that fog, and the general bitter aftertaste anyone might associate with interacting with their creepy pit-grandpa. Zero out of ten.

So he’s a little worn out.

While everyone else is cramming their final days at camp with hand-to-hand combat—plus other normal stuff kids do for fun—Percy’s getting really into afternoon naps. Oh, that’s supposed to be an old-person thing? Uno reverse, Gramps. He already has the Poseidon cabin to himself, so it’s not hard to find a quiet spot. Even with his shiny-new status as the Ass-Kicker of Ares, the Mount Olympus Backtalker, the Lotus Casino Strip Poker Champ (ok, maybe the rumours are getting out of hand), the other campers don’t usually seek him out here. His guess is that the cabin stood empty so long that it became sorta mythically untouchable. Maybe that makes him the murky algae growing on the glass of the haunted aquarium, but he doesn’t care. He just wants to sleep.

Except one person never hesitates at the threshold. She doesn’t seem to mind the fishermen’s cathedral aesthetic or the unusual light; it spills down through tall, diamond-paned windows and reflects off the lap pool to cast a wavy aurora maris on the ceiling. Annabeth’s not daunted by the creak of suspended skeletons or the lobster traps piled by the door (why?).

She gives him the face that says he’s making a stupid choice which may or may not actually be wrong (she’s still deciding) and asks, “Why aren’t you outside?”

“I’m the demigod version of Superman: I prefer my solitude,” he says, then pauses. “Or, I guess Clark Kent, ’cause I’m not on duty.”

Annabeth frowns.

“Who?”

“Just… this journalist. Doesn’t matter.”

“You felt like being alone?” she somehow translates, sifting through the broken oysters of his words for the pearls.

He looks at her, her head tilt that could be cautious except he knows it’s thoughtful, her steps that miss all the squeaky boards his personal water feature has swollen with damp, the way her straightforward question spreads like a ripple—you felt like being alone alone alone alone?—because her eyes keep asking it after her lips close. Her feet keep walking into his abandoned marine museum, his one-storey lighthouse, his rejected Little Mermaid film set. He looks at her.

“Not… exactly,” he says, liking her here. “I was just gonna try to get some sleep.”

“Would it be alright if I stayed?”

There’s this feeling in Percy’s chest—sore and warped, but warm and still. He’s glad she asked; it means he doesn’t have to. It would’ve come out of his mouth wrong, fumbled and awkward, even though they’ve slept near each other before, basically the whole quest. He nods; it’s alright if she wants to stay. He can’t say he’ll probably be able to sleep better with her watching over him, that, actually, he’s scared a lot of the time, but not so much with her nearby. Even if their eyes are closed and their defenses are down.

Though Percy doesn’t stray from tradition and put his guard up as he lies down on his cot, there’s an awareness of a different nature. Annabeth darts a look at him like she’s suspicious that he’s going to keep watching her, but then she does something kind: she sits at the edge of the pool, right in his line of sight. She has her back to him as she strokes her hand back and forth through the water. Percy rolls onto his back, exhales. He’s not going to fall asleep, but he’s watching the light change on the ceiling, and he’s listening to the gentle waves break against the sides of the pool, and his eyelids are feeling heavy…

The cottage surrounded by darkness.

Kronos with the swaying lantern, the billowing cloak.

Percy: wide-eyed to be suddenly adrift inside his own mind, the cottage a trick.

An ominous message, full of blame, full of a sickening pride, full of ownership and control and—

Do you ever dream about Mom?

The look in his dad’s eyes, and then falling, but falling through light, falling like floating on water.

Percy knows he’s still sleeping—it’s the one similarity between this scene and his seaside encounter with Kronos—because he’s looking down at the lap pool from above. The water’s serene, undisturbed.

When he faces Kronos, does his body give clues? Does he twitch or flinch or groan? Anything that might call Annabeth away from the pool? Because she’s sitting there on his cot, holding his hand while he sleeps. Did he do something to make her scared for him, or is it another thing? A scared-if-you-don’t-feel-this-too thing. Scared if you do. Percy doesn’t know if this is real, but the feeling of wanting it to be is. They’re just… a good team. And if his tired brain was reaching for an antidote to Kronos’s unwelcome invasion of his subconscious, yeah, it coulda done worse than Annabeth’s hand tucked into his, light on her braids casting shadows like sea turtle ribs.

She’s looking at him. Her head tilts, and it could be cautious, wary, unsure.

Except Percy knows it’s thoughtful. She’s always thinking.

Right now, she’s thinking about him.

#my writing #PJatO #Percy Jackson #Annabeth Chase #percabeth #Percy Jackson fic #PJO fic

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k-n-e-o · 18 days

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No good, really bad day|| Heeseung

Requested: hah no

Song: Bad day by Charlotte Sands

Tags: fluff, neutral reader

Warnings: heeseung and the reader share a bath but it’s not at all suggestive just fluff

Summary: after a long hard day, heeseung decides that he’s going to take care of you, pamper you and wash all your worries away.

A|n: flipping hell you guys, I was at a dance competition the whole day 9:00am-7:00pm, every dance somehow magically fell flat despite every single one of us putting everything we had on the stage. I performed three times today but it was like the judge didn’t even see us 🫥

And to top it all off, I was supposed to drive back home tonight, have a nice warm shower, and sleep in my nice comfy bed, but instead my truck decides to leak coolant and I can’t get it fixed just yet and driving the hour and a half home is out of the question, so what do I have to do? Spend money I don’t have on a hotel room, wipe off all of my performance makeup with tissues and water, sleep in my jeans and cry myself to sleep.

SO! This is my comfort fic for the night

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk I’ll take my leave.

Also I’m writing for Enhypen now I guess lol

———————

You feet feel like they’ve been through a meat grinder and your knees might give out at any moment.

Opening the door to your house, you practically collapse when you reach the couch that heeseung sat playing games on.

“Rough day?” He asked, briefly glancing to you

“You have no idea” you grumble, fingers rubbing your temples trying to ease the throbbing pain in your head. Giving up on your fruitless battle, you drop your head onto heeseungs shoulder, his own head dropping lightly onto yours in comfort.

Softly tears start dripping down your face and onto his shoulder. Just then the sounds of his game stop and he carefully turns to you. You lift your head only a little before he’s carefully pulling you into him and onto his lap. He’s softly caressing your head as he as he asks you about your day.

“That bad huh?” All you do is groan and nuzzle further into him.

“Let me help you relax a little” he draped your legs over his arm and holds onto your back in a bridal carry.

He takes you to your shared room, and then the master bath. Hee sits you on the counter and tells you to just relax while does all it for you. You don’t bother arguing with him, knowing that you don’t have the energy to go up against Heeseung.

He grabs your cleanser and delicately applies it on your face, using his nimble fingers to massage it along your face, removing all the stress and tears of the day. He takes a warm cloth to wash it off and proceeds to follow through with the rest of your routine, taking any moment he can to remind you how much you are loved and how that in this moment nothing matters and your are safe.

He runs a bath, adding in anything extra in order to help you relax. He helps you out of your clothes, he’s careful with you when you wince from the aches and pains of the day and massages anything that feels tight or tense.

Sinking into the bath is like drifting on a cloud, your limbs feel weightless in the warm water. When you close your eyes nothing comes to mind and you sighed the biggest breath of relief. Heeseung slots himself behind you, raising the water level by a smidge.

“Lay down a bit, I’ll wash your hair” you do as instructed and instantly feel his fingers in your hair, massaging your scalp and brushing through the strands. He adds shampoo into the mix and just continues to take care you.

When he’s finished washing your hair, he wraps his arms around your waist and relaxes with you.

“You know I love you right?” You murmur

Heeseung chuckles and leans down to kiss your forehead, “yes sweetheart. I love you too”

—————

All done hope you enjoyed 💙

#enhypen #enha #enha fluff #heeseung enha #Enhypen heeseung #Enhypen fluff #enha fanfic #Enhypen fanfic #Lee heeseung

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blooming-violets · 2 months

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CREATURE LIKE ME || CHAPTER EIGHT: PYRRIHIC VICTORY

[TASM Peter Parker!Werewolf AU]

Story Summary: Kraven and his guild of hunters have been tracking and quelling the werewolf population for centuries. The time has come for Aylin to complete her first solo hunt to prove herself to the guild. It was supposed to be simple. One wolf, one death, one victory. She never expected to end up with a secret hostage on her hands.

[link to chapter index]

A woodchipper.

That’s what her body felt like it had been shoved through.

She had been wrapped up and pushed through the spinning blades until she was nothing more than bloody pulp.

“Fuck me,” she groaned.

Aylin forced her stiff, heavy lids to open. A layer of sleep crusted over her lashes, making it difficult to see. She rubbed at her eyes with the back of her hand to clear them. When they finally came into focus, she was nose to nose with wide, golden eyes staring expectantly back at her. Black, sleek fur rubbed against her forehead as her cat, Kedi, rammed face first into her head with a long, drawn out whine.

“Yes, good morning to you, too,” she grumbled.

“It’s actually evening. You slept almost 16 hours. Thought you might not ever wake up.”

A familiar voice popped up from behind her.

Aylin rolled over, wincing from the shooting pains electrifying her body, to find Peter sitting on the edge of her bed. Except this wasn’t her bed. She glanced around the small room and recognized it as the same motel she brought Peter on the night they met. She could tell because of how cheap and ugly the decor was; like it had been redecorated once in the early 70’s then never touched again. It had the same musty smell of mold and stale cigarette smoke that she remembered so well. The thick, avocado green curtains were drawn closed so the only source of light was the flashing colors from the television. He had kept it on silent, probably so as not to disturb her sleep, and he was sitting as far off the edge of the bed as he could without being on the floor. She noticed the only chair in the room was propped up under the door knob as an added line of defense to keep anyone out.

Peter was wearing one of her brother’s old, navy blue sweatshirts and gray joggers she had brought him to try on a few days ago. A pair of run down work boots lay tossed against the back wall as if he had nonchalantly kicked them off his feet after he got settled. Her brother’s borrowed clothes seemed to fit well enough. It was strange seeing him wear Emir’s things. It had been over five years since anyone had donned them. It was about time they got put to use instead of collecting dust in his bedroom tomb. It was also strange to see Peter wearing a shirt, regardless of who it once belonged to. Since she met him, he had always been shirtless.

She sort of missed the view.

Aylin glanced down at her own self to see what sort of disheveled state she was in. She had been respectfully covered with the hideously floral bedspread but, underneath, she was still in the same attire she’d fled in. Underwear to cover her lower half and tightly wrapped bandages to cover her top half. Nearly naked and covered in blood, dirt, and sweat. Funny how their roles had been reversed since the last time they had taken refuge in this motel.

“Why is Kedi here?” She croaked through dry lips. She was in desperate need of water.

Peter looked between her and the cat perched at her shoulder, “I’m guessing that's Kedi?”

She nodded.

“Before you passed out, you were really upset about not being able to find your mother. You didn’t want to leave anyone behind when we ran,” he gave a sheepish shrug. “I assumed that meant taking the cat, too.”

She raised her brows in surprise, “He let you pick him up and put him in the car?”

Peter gave a weary glance back at Kedi and shook his head, “It didn’t go as smoothly as you’re making it sound…” He raised his arms to show off a myriad of red scratches clawing down his skin and pointed bite marks sunk into his hand. The cat had put up a good fight but it seemed Peter came out victorious.

Aylin gave a soft chuckle of amusement, “Yeah. That sounds more like it.”

She looked over her shoulder to smile fondly at her cat, happy that he was safe with them, then turned back to Peter. “How’d you pay for this room?”

He shrugged again, chewing on the hard bit of calloused skin next to his thumb nail, “You had your wallet in the car. You also had a bunch of stuff packed into the trunk. I brought some of it in after I got you settled in bed.”

She struggled to prop herself up onto her elbows to get into a sitting position but the pain was too much. She collapsed back onto the stiff mattress with a muffled whine.

Peter scooted closer over to her and held out his arm for her to take, “Here. Let me help you.”

He heaved her up with ease and held her steady until she was sitting on her own. His eyes raked over the red stained bandages wrapped around her chest and covering her back. She could tell it wasn’t the first time he had taken in the sight of her injuries but it still made him uncomfortable. He quickly averted his eyes when he noticed her watching him.

“I knew something was wrong,” he whispered, avoiding her gaze. “I don’t know how I knew it but I did. I kept telling myself to give you time to come back. You said it might take a while. But then it got to be past midnight. It’s almost a full moon, you know. In two nights. Everything feels stronger when it gets closer to a full moon. Maybe that’s how I knew. I felt some kind of intuition. It was like I was being pulled to find you. I still waited, though. I told myself it was just in my head. That I promised to wait for you at the camper.” He swallowed, sounding as culpable as she felt. “I should have looked for you sooner. I shouldn’t have let you go back there at all. I knew how dangerous Kraven was. I should have kept you safe. What happened when you went back? What did he do to you?”

Guilt rained down on her as the memories opened from the dark cloud above her head. Murderer. She had killed the Lycan girl. Stabbed her straight through the heart. Ripped her life from her without ever knowing her name. She was a murderous Silver Colt, born and raised, destined to be nothing more than an oven for her leader to stick his seed into. A plaything, perfectly groomed to his liking. Was any part of her real? Or was she entirely constructed to be the person he wanted her to be?

She could feel Kraven’s hands all over her body. They lingered and clung to her skin like an unshakable memory. It made her feel sick. Dirty. She would have gladly taken Calypso with the whip over ever having to be in the same room with that man again. Calypso may have broken her body but Kraven had shattered her soul. Whatever dreamlike bliss she’d felt upon waking in the safety of this motel beside Peter had sizzled out faster than she could blink. He had become a beacon of hope for her to cling onto and a pleasant memory for her to dissociate to.

But he wasn’t real. The Peter she dreamed of in that basement lived only in her labyrinth. The one sitting beside her was someone else. He was his own person. Not a perfect figment of her imagination. He felt liable for her safety only because she had saved him his captive fate. He was in her debt.

She felt a vacant, numbness settle into the depths of her blackened mind as shadows crept around her sharp edges. Her escape from the basement was a pyrrhic victory.

“Nothing happened,” she mumbled, her words sounding mechanical in her ears. “I’m fine.”

Aylin felt constricted in her every move. The dried blood, splattered over her, pinched at her skin. The wraps Calypso had done felt too tight. Her underwear was crusty and hard from the blood that dripped from her back and soaked through the fabric. Her hair was stiff and sticking to everything. She felt suffocated inside her own body. Not even the tall walls of her labyrinth were a safe place to linger for long. It had become polluted with the toxic chemicals Kraven had spilled over every part of her. She didn’t know who she was anymore.

She needed to crawl out of her own skin.

“I need a shower,” she stated.

Peter’s eyes darted between her and the bed spread at his legs like he was afraid to keep her in his gaze for too long but equally afraid to have her out of it. She knew he didn’t believe a word she had said. She obviously wasn’t fine but he was either too shy, or too smart, to confront her on her claims.

He nodded slowly as if every move he made was calculated to keep the peace between them, “What, uhm, what’s under the bandages?” He quickly added, trying to play it off like it was nothing more than a nonchalant question, “Just because it might hurt to put any wounds under running water. Are you sure you don’t want me to check on them first? Just to be safe?”

Aylin ignored him and shoved herself to her unsteady feet with a grunt. Peter stood in sync with her, keeping a hand out to catch her should she fall, but not actually closing the gap to physically touch her. He kept his sights on his bare feet. He looked terrified to disrespect her by staring at her in just her underwear. He still didn’t know where he stood in her allegiance. The last time they spoke she had vacillated between being his friend and cursing him out with little warning. He wasn’t sure what wrong move he could make that would get him in trouble this time.

She gave him a sad smile in the hopes to ease his concern. He didn’t need to be frightened of her. He had saved her life. He had done everything to erase his debt. She no longer considered herself a true Silver Colt. She would never be able to return to her home again which meant that she had no more use for him. No information he could give her would ever erase her knowledge that her entire life was a lie. He was free to leave whenever he wanted.

“You don’t have to stay anymore, Peter,” she muttered under her breath, stopping halfway to the bathroom with him still hovering at her side. “I think we’re even now. I saved you. You saved me. You’re a free man. You’re not a prisoner. I don’t need you for information anymore. I’m not going to kill you. I refuse to. Our deal is over. Nothing matters, anyway. It was all for nothing. You can go.”

Aylin leaned down to collect her duffle bag from the floor beside the television stand. It was sitting next to a case of water bottles and some camping food, her bucket of first aid supplies, and her crossbow. He had brought in everything that she could need for when she awoke, including a weapon to protect herself with if she felt the need too. When she tugged the strap of the bag over her sore shoulder, she straightened up to stare back, forcing herself to make eye contact with him.

Peter had a look that was hard for her to read. Apprehension. Dismay. Melancholy. Rejection. Confusion. They all flashed across his warm, brown eyes while he processed what she was saying. It hurt to see him like that but he deserved to be free. He didn’t need her. She was useless to him.

“No,” his assertion was evident in his tone. “I’m staying.”

Her heart sank with sorrow and an anger rose in her chest. She didn’t want him here. She didn’t want him to look at her with those pity filled eyes. She didn’t want to be responsible for another unnecessary death. Kraven would hunt her down and find her. He would slaughter anyone she was with. She would never be safe from his hold. People don’t get to leave the guild without consequences. She knew that now. Peter was better off on his own.

“No, you aren’t. You’re leaving. Go,” she shot back. “I don’t want you here anymore. Thank you for getting me out and bringing me here but I no longer need you. You repaid your debt. You balanced the scales. You can go.”

He shook his head in defiance, “I don’t care. I’m not going anywhere.” His arms crossed over his chest and he planted his feet firmly against the worn out, red carpet as if daring her to try and move him.

Aylin stomped her foot with annoyance, “There’s no point in you sticking around! You’re only going to get hurt. I bring death wherever I go! I’m the reason they’re all dead.” Her voice cracked but she kept her chin held high. “My father, my brother, probably my mother and Leah and her family, Sierra…that wolf girl…I’m…cursed. I’m not a good person. I’m a murderer. A fraud. I’m not anything you should be around. I only bring pain. It’s not worth it. Just go. You’ll be better off. ‘M gonna go wash up and when I come out, I hope you’re far, far away from here.”

She turned on her heels, refusing to look any longer at his perturbed face stinging with rejection, and slammed the bathroom door behind her. The bag fell from her shoulder to the tiles under foot. Aylin nearly collapsed onto the edge of the sink, holding herself up with the palms of her hands, and hanging her head.

She didn’t want Peter to leave her. Not really. He was the only friend she had in this world. He was the only one who could ever even attempt to understand her but she still felt the need to push him away. She was toxic. Every bit of her was shriveled up and soured. When she lifted her head to stare back at her reflection in the mirror, she didn’t recognize the woman on the other end. A stranger. Dark bags encircled her barren eyes. Red stained up her cheeks and over her lips. She pulled back the corner of her mouth and tilted her head to see the gap in her teeth. The top, second molar from the back on her left side was now nothing more than a bloody hole. She poked her tongue up into the gap, feeling the smoothness of her gums, and pressed it in harder to feel the jolt of pain.

Pain was starting to become the only feeling she could accurately recognize. Everything else couldn’t be trusted.

Aylin pushed away from the sink to strip herself from her soiled underwear. She kicked them into the trash before turning on the shower to heat up and taking a tender seat on the toilet. With the sound of the water pounding against the tub, she could no longer hear Peter standing outside the door. He had been pacing back and forth only moments ago but now there was nothing but silence.

A pang of anxiety settled into her stomach at the thought of him actually leaving. There would be a chance that when she left this bathroom, she would be alone. Truly alone. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to do then. Try to find her mother? Make sure she was safe? She couldn’t live in a motel forever. If she did end up finding her mom, they’d be homeless. It’s not like either of them had any work experience or life outside of the guild. She didn’t even think she had a social security number or was on any government records. Aylin didn’t exist outside of the Silver Colts.

After she finished up on the toilet, she washed her hands the best she could. Her pinky and ring finger on her right hand were still tightly bound together and held straight by the splint. She was missing three finger nails on the same hand. The soft nail beds stung as she applied soap to them in an attempt to clean the blood. With her hands still dripping with water, she dug her toothbrush and toothpaste out from her bag to brush her teeth, careful to avoid the few in the back that ached with pain whenever the bristles got too close to the missing tooth. She desperately needed to rid the taste of Kraven from her mouth. She gulped down the water flowing from the sink to satiate her thirst and finally turned to the shower.

Before stepping in, she wanted to remove her bandages. Everything needed to be cleaned. It wasn’t like Calypso washed her back before she threw the salve on it and bandaged her. Her body needed to be completely sanitized for her to feel human again. From looking behind her shoulder in the mirror, she could see where the end of the wrap was tucked into the middle of her back. She tried again and again to manipulate her arm around her back to grab at the end piece but it evaded her reach every time. Her shoulders were too sore from holding her body upright for hours. They ached with sharp stabs of pain each time she tried to reach the end of the bandage until tears pricked up in the corners of her eyes.

All she wanted was to be clean.

Aylin let out a frustrated yell and threw herself to the floor with the dramatics of a toddler throwing a tantrum. The tiles were dirty and cold under her bare bottom as she draped herself over the edge of the tub with her head cradled in her arms. She couldn’t do it. Everything she knew, her home, her people, her entire history, was ripped away from her. She had nowhere to go. Her mother was missing. She had no way of knowing if she got her note and escaped. There was no way to contact her. They didn’t have cell phones in the guild. They were cut off from society. Her mother could be anywhere. She could be in trouble and Aylin would never know. There was nothing left.

She was an outcast. Banished from her people. A traitor. A pariah.

She wasn’t part of the Silver Colts. She wasn’t part of the Lycans. She wasn’t part of the normal, human institution. She was no one.

Loud, heavy sobs shook through her chest and blubbered out her mouth. Hot, fat tears poured down her cheeks and splashed to the floor. She had never cried like this before. She had never felt so vulnerable and lost. Even when her father and brother died, she had never been this broken.

Adrift in the void of stray souls with no one to turn to.

The bathroom door creaked open. Peter padded up softly behind her. She couldn’t move to look at him. His presence only made her cry harder. He should be gone. He should have run. His loyalty was misplaced. He was confused.

She felt him quietly kneel down behind her and gently untuck the bandage from its hold. He carefully and silently unwrapped it around her until it lay in a bloody pile at her side. The tips of his warm fingers ghosted over the slashes from the whip as he took in the sight for the first time. She tried to gain back control of her sobs but it was useless. The flood gates had been released.

Her wet eyes squeezed closed at his touch. So soft. So careful. He had no right to be this gentle with her. He should hate her for who she had been associated with.

Peter’s hand landed on her shoulder, giving it a delicate squeeze.

“Get up,” he whispered. “Let’s get you clean. You’ll feel more like yourself then. Trust me.”

Trust him.

Aylin did. She trusted him more than anyone. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and allowed him to grip under her arms to help her stand. He guided her into the tub, keeping his eyes politely averted from her naked form, and waited until he felt she was stable enough before pulling his hands away. Slowly, he pushed the shower curtain closed to give her privacy.

“You okay?” He asked.

A fresh wave of tears hit her and she doubled over with more sobs under the weak stream of water, “Y-yeah.” When she heard him start to leave the bathroom, she called back out, letting the panic take over, “Wait! Peter…can you…can you stay with me? Don’t go…don’t leave me. I-I need you.”

She could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“I was never going to leave. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

He flipped the toilet seat closed and settled down on top of it. His long legs extended out to perch his feet on the edge of the tub. She could see the shower curtain pull tighter where they rested and felt a sense of calm settle in her mind now that she knew he was with her.

Maybe she didn’t have to be alone. Peter was alone. They could be alone together.

The water cascaded down her chest. She placed her face into the stream to scrub at her cheeks with her hands. Brown, dark blood washed from her body and circled around the drain. She was afraid to turn her back to the shower, knowing how badly it would hurt when the water hit her wounds, but she needed to wash the blood from her hair.

“Are you alright?” Peter asked when he heard her muffled wince of pain as she turned around.

Aylin smiled woefully to herself, lathering her scalp with the cheap motel shampoo, “It just hurts. I’ll be okay.” A few more lingering tears slipped down her face to mix in with the steaming water. The water pressure was weak but at least it was hot. Her guilt clung to her tighter than the steam clouding around her face. “Peter?”

“Hmm?”

Her eyes gazed down at the sun seared into her thigh. It was blistering with angry, red lines outlining the rays of the sun. The mark of a Silver Colt, the mark of Kraven, festering with a growing infection. “I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry I was a bitch to you. I’m sorry I was a part of the group of people who hurt you. I’m sorry I kept you when I should have let you go the day I found you. I’m sorry for promising to kill you and refusing to go through with it. I’m sorry for being a Silver Colt.”

He was silent for a long time. She tenderly washed her body with the soap provided to her as she waited for his response, grazing over her wounds the best she could, and letting the water carry away her filth. With each passing moment under the stream, she cleansed herself further from Kraven.

“I don’t blame you,” Peter finally whispered. She could hardly hear him over the shower. “You acted within the parameters you knew. You saved my life. You showed me that things could be different. I didn’t have to live the way I was. There was still something more out there. Everything was hopeless until I met you.”

Was it no longer hopeless?

She felt hopeless. Directionless. She couldn’t see the same vision he did. They were moving in opposite directions.

“I don’t want to die anymore,” he stated with finality to his tone.

She did.

Aylin turned the knob of the shower to shut it off. The water sputtered to a halt, leaving her wet, dripping, and quickly chilling as the warm droplets cooled on her skin.

Peter shuffled behind the curtain and soon a white towel poked through the side. She gladly took it, gently wiping herself dry.

“I’ll be in the other room,” he said. “I’m going to set up the first aid kit for when you come out. Take your time. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll just be on the other side of this door.”

She listened for the light click to indicate the closing door before she pulled back the shower curtain and stepped out. Condensation clung to the mirror. She whipped it away with the palm of her hand. She looked rough but there was a glimmer of Aylin staring back at her. Underneath all that blood and sweat, she was still human. Her red trimmed, puffy eyes stayed locked onto herself as she scrunched the water out of her long hair with the towel.

There was still softness in the world despite what she had gone through. Peter was proof of that. He had stayed. He didn’t run the first chance he got. He wasn’t helping her because he felt like he was forced to. His compassion was able to extend further than his trauma.

He didn’t want to die anymore.

She wondered what caused that change.

Aylin knelt down to dig through her bag. She grabbed a pair of clean underwear and some loose fitting workout shorts. Anything else would rub against her brand. She was worried about the infection that was beginning to form around the edges and guessed her back was probably looking the same. After quickly getting into the clean bottoms, she held the towel against her bare chest to keep herself somewhat decent before stepping out of the bathroom. Putting on a shirt before she wrapped her back wounds would be pointless.

Peter was standing at the edge of the bed with the bucket of first aid open in front of him. He had laid out some gauze and bandages on the bed spread and was reading the back label of a yellow tube. He casually glanced in her direction with raised brows, “Is Neosporin what you need? It says antibiotic ointment. That’s probably good, right?”

She gave him a quiet nod. He was beautiful. Forgiving. Tender. She had the urge to be held by him, cradled in the safety of his arms, with her face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. There was a newly found desperation growing where all she wanted to was to feel loved by another person. By him. Anything to make the pain go away.

His eyes wandered back over to her, slowly toying down her body then back up to her face. She didn’t mind and found herself blushing under his obvious ogling. He gave her a lopsided grin, “Who knew there was an actual person under all that grime?”

A smile broke out across her face, cracking through her hardened exterior. Her first real smile since she left him at camp. Those were the same words she had spoken to him the night he shuffled out of the shower the last time they were here. Their roles had been completely reversed.

For a fleeting second, they held onto each other’s eyes, finding a common place between them. An appreciation. A care. A yearning.

A love.

He was the first one to break the moment, hoisting the bucket off the bed and patting his hand on the mattress, “Come lay down. Let me look at your back.”

Aylin did as she was told, happy to let someone else, someone she trusted, take control for a little a while. Once she was face first on top of the bed, she pulled the towel out from under her chest and rolled it up to use as a pillow. It was wet and cooling on her cheek as she closed her eyes. Her hair was tossed over her shoulder, away from her back. She could feel Kedi pawing at the dripping ends before he flopped over and dozed off.

She wasn’t alone.

There was life in this room besides her own. Life that she cared about. Life that she wanted to protect.

Peter leaned over to examine the damage then looked back to the small tube of ointment, “I don’t think this will be enough.”

Aylin cracked her eyes open to stare at him through half closed slits, “Does my back look infected? If not then I’ll use it on my thigh instead. That definitely needs it more.”

She watched him glance down to the back of her thighs which were parted in a wider stance to keep her skin from touching. He chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah, about that,” he spoke with a timid inflection. “What exactly am I looking at? When I brought you in from the car, I could kind of see it. It was all blistered but it looked a bit like it was spider shape or something. I didn’t want to push your legs apart too much to get a better look, not that you’re not nice to look at or anything, you were just sleeping…and I was…I was just…trying to…see…and make sure you were okay…”

Aylin rolled her eyes and cut off his anxious rambling, “It’s a sun. Half of one. Kraven burned it into me to prove I was still a Silver Colt. That I was still one of them. That I was his.”

Peter took a delicate seat on the edge of the bed beside her. He raised one brow with a look of mild intrigue, “Kraven?”

She huffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “Yes? You remember him? The guy who ruined your life?”

“I know who you’re talking about.” A smile danced across his lips. “It’s just, well, you’ve always called him Sergei. The last time I brought up Kraven the Hunter you got all pissed off and had a look of death on your face like you’d kill me for disrespecting him by calling him that. Suddenly, he’s no longer Sergei. He’s Kraven. That’s what all the Lycan call him. You flipped sides.”

Aylin let out a long breath, her eyes stared emotionless at the bare wall across from her, not finding the same amusement he clearly did, “That’s me. The traitor.”

Peter flopped down on his stomach next to her. His arms curled up to form a place for his head to rest as he stared, nose to nose, at her. He was becoming more comfortable around her by the second. She enjoyed the change.

“I like Aylin the Traitor better than Aylin the Cult Member,” he muttered with a grin.

He was so close. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to feel something besides guilt and shame. He was so delicately handsome.

And he was still here despite everything.

“My entire life was a lie,” she whispered back to him, needing to share the burden of her life with someone she trusted. “Everything. He wanted me before I was even born. He wanted me to be his perfect…” She didn’t know what. Wife? Baby mother? Side piece? “He wanted me to have his children.”

Peter’s brow furrowed, his joy fading, “What do you mean?”

“Him and his wife. They couldn’t have children. He wanted an heir. They decided that the best way to do that was to create the perfect person from scratch. Someone loyal and obedient. Someone they could manipulate. Someone who would do whatever they asked,” she felt the tears pressing back up. “Someone as pathetic and naive as me.”’

She let out a dark, humorless laugh, “And the crazy thing is, if I had never met you, I would have done it. Without a second thought. I would have willingly agreed to it because I trusted him. He would have known best. If that’s what he said I needed to do to help our people, then I would have done it. It’s only because of you, I knew better. I’m so fucking stupid.”

Peter’s hand reached up to capture a stray tear rolling down her cheek with his thumb. He gently wiped it away, letting his fingers push back through her hair, and lacing them against her skull.

“You’re not stupid,” he murmured. “You were manipulated by a very bad man. If your life is full of isolation, then how could you ever know anything else? You did what you had to do to survive in the environment you were given. It’s not your fault you were born into a life like that. It’s what you do once you find out the truths that show what kind of person you really are. Look at you, Aylin. You’re not dead. You’re still here. You escaped. There is still more life out there. Don’t be like me. Don’t give up yet. You have no idea what kind of person you’re capable of becoming. Your life is just beginning. Mine is, too. We can still start fresh. They don’t deserve you, anyway.”

“I killed her,” Aylin breathed. If he wanted to start fresh with her then he needed to know the truth. There were already too many lies in her life for her to keep anymore. “Remember that night I came to the camper and you had heard a girl screaming? They had wheeled out a young girl, a Lycan girl, inside a cage. They wanted me to kill her. I couldn’t do it. I ran back to you. I thought…” She swallowed at the lump forming in her throat. “I thought they would have killed her themselves after I ran.”

She buried her face into the towel, breathing in the scent of the motel shampoo, and closing her eyes to block out the memories as she spoke, “When I went back, when Kraven found me, he locked me in his basement. A torture chamber. It was hidden underground behind a secret bookcase. I wasn’t alone. That Lycan girl was there. She was still alive. He-” She took a deep breath. “He made me kill her this time. She was so weak. They had tortured her so badly. It was horrible. Her body was already shutting down. I think she would have died on her own had I just held off a few more hours. But I did it. I killed her. I didn’t even know her name. She wouldn’t tell me. She was young. Couldn’t be any older than 19. It was me who killed her. No one else. Just me.”

He entangled his hand from her wet hair, much to her heartbreak, and went silent. She could feel him breathing softly next to her as he mulled over what she had said. He still had the choice to leave and walk out if he judged her to be too irredeemable.

After a quiet minute ticked by, Peter finally spoke, “I killed Kateri Deseronto’s son. He was only little. Five years old. That’s why she had me locked up when you found me. I’m responsible for his death. She wanted me to give her a new child. It was some sick, fucked up power play fueled by her grief and resentment. She lost herself the night he died. It’s hard for me to hate her, despite everything she did to me, because I felt like I deserved it. Her child is dead because of me. You said earlier that you bring death wherever you go. That you were cursed. That everyone was dead because of you.” He shook his head in disagreement. “I thought that, too, about myself. But it’s not us. I didn’t murder Kat’s son with my own hands. It was Kraven’s men who killed him. They were there because they were hunting me but I didn’t kill her son. If you look close enough, every string of blame leads straight back to Kraven the Hunter. He’s the source of everything.”

Aylin peaked a curious eye out from the safety of her cave. Peter had propped his head up onto his hand, leaning on his side, as he looked down at her with a quiet contemplation. Suddenly, another puzzle piece fell into place.

“Wait,” she said with a realization. She had heard that story before. She quickly sat up, forgetting she was topless, then hastily threw the towel to her chest when she saw Peter’s eyes widen. “When was that? When did the thing with Kat’s son happen?”

Peter thought for a second, his ears reddening from embarrassment, not quite understanding the gravity of what he was about to say, “I don’t know. Five years ago-ish?” He could tell by the paling look of horror on her face that something wasn’t right. “Why?”

Aylin filled her lungs with a gulp of air to try and settle her nerves, “The night my father and brother died, the night Kraven left them to die, the three of them were hunting you. Kraven told me in the basement that they had found you along with a woman and a little boy. He said that you were trying to regrow your pack after he slaughtered your last one.”

Peter’s jaw clenched at that statement but he remained quiet.

“He told me that they found you, he said…oh god…he said Emir ran after the woman and her son while he fought with you. He said that after he stabbed you, he fought with my father. Then he shot Emir. Then he left them both to be killed by a wolf.” Her voice lingered down to nothing but a mere whisper. “By you.”

Peter sat in a stunned silence. His eyes slipped closed and he brought his hands up to massage at his temples. With one hand keeping the towel in place, Aylin reached out with the other to gently caress his knee and drag his attention back to her.

“I don’t blame you, Peter. It’s not your fault,” she muttered. “They were Silver Colts. They attacked you first. Like you said, everything leads back to Kraven.”

He frantically shook his head, “No. That’s not how it happened. I told you. I never killed your family. I didn’t know…I didn’t know that was them…but I didn’t kill them. It wasn’t me. I was bleeding out after Kraven attacked me. I could barely move. Kat killed them.”

Aylin’s eyes widened as ice froze her veins. The memory of running from the pack of wolves with Peter bursts behind her vision. A large, towering black wolf. Hunched over in the middle of the dark, slick wet, rain covered road. Heavy, smokey breaths puffing from her saliva coated jaws. She didn’t chase the car speeding away with her captive. She only stood and watched. Waiting. Plotting.

Kat was the wolf that had killed her family.

“Because Emir killed her son,” Aylin stated.

He gave a solemn nod.

Her stomach sank. She loved her family. She thought the world of them but, in their death and her grief, she had memorialized them as saints. She had stopped seeing them as people with flaws. They were people who could do no wrong. Frozen forever in her mind as the perfect father and big brother.

But, like everything else in her life, that wasn’t always the truth.

The world wasn’t black and white. People were all shades of gray. The people she loved and admired were capable of doing bad things. They were capable of doing wonderful, nobel things, too. They were complex, layered people. Emir could stand up for his little sister and protect her honor down to his last breath and he could also murder someone else’s child because they were associated with a Lycan. He had grown up in the same cult as she did. Generation after generation, the cycle of violence and hate would continue.

It stopped with her.

“Why were you with Kat and her son?” She asked.

Peter gave a small shrug, keeping his sights set to study her face, trying to read her emotions through each little detail he could find, “She found me. She was running from her husband. He was Lycan and had turned her when they got together before she even really knew what that meant. She was young and in love with him so she ignored all the warning signs of him being an abuser. After their son was born, he got worse. Finally she decided to run but she didn’t have the experience of being a Lycan around normal people. She didn’t know how to care for her son as he started going through changes. Her husband had kept them sheltered for years. She didn’t have friends or anyone to go to. I guess she heard that my people-” He cleared his throat, struggling to speak about his pack. “She heard that I was alone. She wanted help. I told her I could help her. I told her I would try to keep them safe. I shouldn’t have done that. I knew Kraven was hunting me. I shouldn’t have had them so close but…I suppose lonely people do stupid things.”

“Were you in love with her?” She wasn’t sure why that was the first question she asked. A strange sting of jealousy poked at her heart at the thought of him loving someone like Kat.

A small, sad smile tugged at his lips, “No. The woman I loved is dead. Her name was Gwen. She would have wanted me to help a lost mother and her child, though. Maybe that’s why I did it. Her voice was in my head begging me to do the right thing.” He gave another shrug. “It only served to get a kid killed and look where I ended up because of it.”

Aylin licked her drying lips, “I think the person I loved is dead, too. I think Kraven killed her and her family. I thought they just left in the middle of the night but…I don’t think anyone leaves the Silver Colts without consequences. I think Kraven did it to punish me. Her name was Leah and she was beautiful. She would have liked you. She was always a bit of a rebel while I was always straight laced. She’d be amazed to know I, of all people, befriended a Lycan.”

Peter smiled at the thought, “We are two very fucked up people with freakishly similar backgrounds.”

Her sweet chimes of laughter filled the space between them. It felt good to laugh. Healing.

“I think I was meant to meet you,” she breathed. “I think-”

She stopped herself from saying what she really wanted to and shook her head to brush away the thought.

I think you were meant to be mine.

She rolled back onto her stomach and balled up the towel into a pillow once more, “I think you should help me put as much Neosporin as you can onto my back and then wrap it back up.”

Peter stood up to stand at the foot of the bed and clapped his hands together, “I have a better idea! I know exactly what can heal you in no time. Forget about ointments and creams. I’ve got all the cure you need right here in these veins.”

Aylin shook her head and grimaced, “Absolutely not. I’ve drunk enough Lycan blood for one lifetime, thank you very much.”

Peter’s head jerked over to stare at her with an incredulous look, “Drank? Why are you drinking blood?”

She frowned, “That’s how Kraven is getting his superior strength. He’s drinking Lycan blood. I got only a few drops in my mouth when I killed the Lycan girl and it almost gave me a heart attack. I’m not doing that again.”

His nose scrunched up in disgust, “Nasty. You don’t need to drink it. It’s much more effective to go blood to blood. Like, I cut my wrist and let it drip directly into your wounds. Straight to the source. It heals so much faster. I assume drinking it would take more time for it to get absorbed and lose some of its potency. Not to mention, it’s also disgusting and wrong on so many levels.”

A tiny smile crept onto her face.

“So you’re telling me that Kraven and Calypso are gulping down blood when they could actually just be injecting it straight into their veins for better and faster results?”

He shrugged and nodded.

Somehow the thought of their stupidity made it more humorous. The Silver Colts really didn’t know the first thing about Lycans. All that hatred for a species they never cared to research further.

“I still don’t want your blood. I almost died last time and then I slept for 16 hours. It was horrible,” she said. The sleeping part wasn’t actually horrible. She needed it. It was all the other stuff before that, that she’d rather never experience again.

“That’s because you were panicking.” He said this like it should have been obvious to her. When he saw no light bulb go off over her head, he explained further. “When a human is given Lycan blood, it enhances everything. Physically, it makes you heal faster, you’re stronger, you have better eyesight and hearing and smell, your endurance and agility heighten, faster reflexes…you get it. But it also enhances your emotions. Whatever you’re feeling when it’s in your system gets enhanced. Seeing as you were running for your life through the woods, half naked, and covered in blood, your heart was racing. It would have been racing without the blood and then, suddenly, it’s going twice as fast as it ever should. You were scared and panicked. Thus, the blood made those emotions worse, which made your heart beat faster, which made it almost explode.”

Interesting.

She remembered how frantic Kraven’s hands had felt as he lusted after her like he could scarcely control his desires for her. She remembered how each whip from Calypso was harder and more violent than the last, like she was feeding off her own hatred towards Aylin. She remembered how scared she felt when she tumbled into her mother’s bedroom to find her missing and how the panic had felt like it consuming her every pore.

It would make perfect sense that Lycan blood was heighting more than just their physical abilities.

Then she remembered something else.

“Kraven said something strange when we were in the basement. When you were fighting all those years ago, he cut your throat, and your blood landed in his mouth. Once that happened, he felt like he could no longer kill you. He walked away from the fight and left you there. Then, when he was drinking the girl in the basement's blood, he told me that he nor Calypso were able to kill her themselves. They had to wait for me to do it. He said it was like a mental block that happened.”

The Lycan had already been dead once Aylin got a taste of her blood so she hadn’t experienced anything Kraven had described.

Peter nodded, “I’ve heard of that happening. Figured that’s why Kraven walked away that night. I don’t know how or why it happens. It’s not like there are books that study our anatomy. I think it’s probably a last line of defense. If someone is using our blood, we become a part of them while it’s in their system. Killing the wolf that’s living temperarely inside of you would be like suicide, I imagine. I doubt it would literally kill the person but that’s how it would probably feel. You have an instinctive need for self preservation, which now includes the wolf inside of you, so you can’t bring yourself to kill them.”

Peter’s blood is what saved him the night Kraven attacked.

She wouldn’t mind having a part of him flowing inside her veins for a little while.

“Promise it won’t be as bad as last time?” She asked.

He smiled, “We’re in a motel room. You have your cat. It’s just me and you here. There is no danger. No one knows we are here. We can put on the tv and watch something chill while it works its magic. You have no need to be scared or panicked. You’ll feel heightened senses but as long as you keep your emotions calm, you’ll be okay.”

Aylin thought it over then gave a final nod, “Fine. Do it. Whatever can heal me faster, I'll take. You and I have a lot of planning to do.”

[CHAPTER NINE]

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