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just-jordie-things · 5 months

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just like my crush - fushiguro megumi

word count: 3.8k warnings: swearing, reader is doped up from anesthesia summary: confessing that you have a crush on someone really isn't that hard. all it takes is anesthesia clouding your judgment. a/n: brought to you by my lovely nanami flowershop anon's beautiful brain !!!

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Injuries in this line work wasn’t unusual. Someone was always occupying Shoko’s little infirmary and keeping her busy. Nasty gashes, sprained wrists, broken bones- it was practically a part of the job description. No, it wasn’t pretty, but at least with a master of the Reverse Cursed Technique on site, the mishaps that came with assignments never lasted too long.

Because of this expectation, Megumi had never been put in a position where he worried over someone’s well being after an exorcism gone awry. He’d had life threatening wounds get healed more times than he could count on both hands, hell, Yuji lost a hand and got that back!

So why did he feel sick to his stomach when she took a bad hit during an assignment? Why did his throat close up too tight for him to explain the situation to the manager on the assignment? Or to Ieiri when he got her back to campus? Why was there a cold sweat racing down his spine, but his insides felt like they were on fire?

Despite all of Ieiri’s insisting that (y/n) was fine, that she’d gotten here just in time, that she was healed and would wake up at any time- likely without the memory of what happened- and that she would still be fine then… Megumi didn’t tear himself out of that room in the infirmary even once.

When she does wake up- two days and a couple hours later- he doesn’t look too good. He’d pale and he’s been bouncing his leg for so long it’s gone numb, but the relief that washes over him brings some color back to his face.

Her eyelashes flicker about a few times before she finally opens her eyes, but his attention is drawn to the way her hand twitches above the stark white sheets.

“Hey,” He murmurs, as quiet as he can stand to speak. He didn’t want to startle her, and he thinks that if she were to flinch back at him, he’d flinch too. “(y/n), you awake?” He asks when she doesn’t say anything right away.

Then her eyes finally find him, and with a hazy gloss over her blown pupils, she smiles. It’s slow, and so, so impaired, but it’s pretty nonetheless.

“Oh, wow,”

Her voice is strained, likely from not having been used for a couple days, but the light and breezy way in which she speaks is enough for him to know that her anesthetics haven’t worn off. The stoner-like smile also tipped him off pretty well, but Megumi’s sure now.

“You know who you look like?”

It’s not the question Megumi’s expecting, and his confusion is obvious in the way a tiny knot forms between his brows. He would’ve thought ‘where am I?’ or ‘what happened?’ would be in order, but maybe the anesthesia was more on top of her than he would’ve thought, so he hums in response and waits for her explanation. Surely she’ll have something silly to say, it wouldn’t be the first time she called him a sea urchin for his messy hair.

“You look jus’ like my crush” (y/n) half-slurs back. She tilted her head in his direction, trying to get a better look at him from where she was laying, but the rest of her body felt too heavy to move.

Megumi’s eyes widen, and before he can stop himself a small laugh comes out. Confusion, humor, and disbelief blend into the overwhelming relief in knowing that Ieiri hadn’t been lying to him to protect his feelings. (y/n) would be completely fine.

Maybe a little bit high, but still, completely fine.

Her shoulders shake in the slightest when she laughs in response to his own little chuckle, delighted purely by his reaction.

“I’m serious,” She mumbles out, eyes falling heavy for a minute the longer she stares at him. “And it’s a compliment too, b’cause he’s, like, really cute” “I didn’t know you were crushing on anyone” Megumi hums, leaning his elbows against the edge of her cot so that he could prop his chin in his hands. Amusement flickers in his eyes when her expression noticeably shifts. Her eyes widen and her lips part but no words come out. Was he actually making her nervous? Who the hell did he look like in her eyes right now that had her reacting like this?

Megumi can’t recall a time she’d ever talked to him about crushing on anyone. Nothing of the sort, not even a hint. And he’d definitely never seen the ruthless sorcerer appear so…

Well, she looked like a girl with a crush. A blush was forming on her cheeks the longer he held eye contact with her, and the way the corners of her mouth twitched and betrayed her as she tried to bite back a smile.

“Y-yeah, duh,” She stammers back at him with a sassy roll of her eyes. Megumi’s quick to push his hand against his mouth to stifle his laughter. “The point of a crush is it’s secret”

“So you’re not gonna tell me then?” He asks curiously.

She probably didn’t know it, but (y/l/n) (y/n) was the only person in the world that got to see the playful side of him. It was hard not to act on his intrigue, though. It was too entertaining to see her in this state… and the rapid beating of his heart in his ribcage made him ache to know more.

But she shakes her head against her pillow, sealing her lips shut to further prove her point. She’s still smiling, though, and she hasn’t torn her eyes off of his since she woke up.

“How’re you feeling, anyways?” Megumi decides to steer the topic back to one of more importance. “Anything hurt? Can I get you anything-?”

“Even your eyes are pretty like his,” She interrupts him, and then sighs as though this was a large inconvenience for her. “You must be related,” She says matter-of-factly.

He hopes that when the drugs wear off she doesn’t remember this moment, because Megumi knows his face is as red as a tomato with how fiery his skin feels. A nervous laugh bubbles out of him before he could choke it down, and her whole face lights up in response.

“You must not get compliments often, huh?” She teases in a slow drawl.

“I… I guess not,” He says, followed by more nervous laughter that happens against his will. “But thank you, (y/n). That’s very… kind”

He’s painfully awkward, and he knows that as soon as he leaves this room he’s going to overthink this entire interaction, but for now he tries to bask in the warmth that sparks from knowing she thinks he has pretty eyes. Or at least, she does when she’s so doped up she can’t quite focus on a conversation.

But at least she's obviously not in any pain. Megumi’s worries begin to melt away, but that might just be the work of her flattery.

“You’re welcome,” She grins back at him, but she just as soon furrows her brows and regards him curiously. Even after staring at him so shamelessly, she suddenly doesn’t appear to recognize him one bit. “I thought Megumi only had a sister, though”

It comes out in a mumble, and he’s sure that she’s talking to herself in her deluded state, but the rush of heat that floods his chest and shoots up his neck is nearly too much to bear.

She actually didn’t recognize him this whole time? Was she talking about him this whole time? Was the flattery not a drug-induced misconception and actually-?

Before he can settle on a question to ask her to clear his confusion, she’s settling back into her pillow and her eyes are falling shut. Megumi opens his mouth, ready to force out the first thing that comes to mind, but she drifts off almost immediately. Her chest rising and falling in slow, steady movements.

It felt like a cruel prank.

Now he was left sitting and gaping at her unconscious form. His heart is racing and his leg is bouncing again, and Megumi thinks he might be even more anxious for her to wake up this time.

He decides then and there that when she does, and when she’s of sound mind again, he’ll ask her about it. Because if she really did have a crush on him he’d have to finally get over his ridiculous anxiety and make a move. ___

A week after making a full recovery, (y/n) comes to the decision that if she wants Megumi to talk to her, she’ll just have to corner him.

She’s not sure why he hasn’t been talking to her- hence her cornering plan- but ever since her last assignment had gone awry and she’d been put on a minor hold, he’d been dodging her. And sure, Megumi wasn’t always the most sociable guy, but he was a friend and even if he didn’t feel like hanging out, he wouldn’t completely ghost her like this.

Of course she’d tried asking Yuji and Nobara about it, but they were a dead end. They’d been just as surprised as she was that he’d been avoiding her.

I thought you were best friends, Yuji had frowned at the idea of a falling out between his two friends that he cared about so much.

Maybe he realized you have a crush on him and pussied out, Nobara had cackled at the scenario, not feeling an ounce of worry that this weird bump wouldn’t get resolved.

Needless to say, (y/n) was quick to steer her investigation far away from them, before the blabbermouths could do what they do best and blab around the wrong people.

She corners him while doing laundry, of all things.

“Hey,”

And when she walks into the room while he’s tossing his freshly washed laundry into the dryer, Megumi hits his head on the lid when he swivels around in shock to see her there.

“Oh god, are you alright?”

“I’m fine- it’s fine,” He answers all too quickly, before she’s even finished her question. “I’m almost done with the washing machine”

(y/n) can’t help but chuckle a little bit, seeing as she wasn’t currently holding a basket of laundry, but Megumi’s already back to filling up the dryer. It appears every piece of clothing he tosses in is monochrome- mostly black, but a few gray pieces here and there. This shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it is a bit funny.

“I actually was looking for you,” She tells him, leaning against the doorframe. It’s half casual, and half to block his only escape. Megumi responds with a small hum, still putting all of his focus on moving the laundry. “Are you upset with me?”

The question has him swiveling again, finally giving her his undivided attention. It’s a bit unnerving, the way he straightens up and goes rigid as he stares back at her in bewilderment. She wants to be annoyed that he has the audacity to look confused when he was the one that had been avoiding her for days, but she gives him the benefit of the doubt

“Upset? No. No of course not” He answers, and his words are so certain, that she believes him straight away. But the small bit of truth doesn’t provide much relief.

“Then how come you’ve been dodging me?” She asks, unable to help her frown. What other reason could there be? If he’s not mad at something, why would act so flaky?

“I haven’t been dodging you”

“That’s a lie”

“It’s not?”

“It is,” She crosses her arms defensively. “You haven’t been answering your phone and you always have some excuse to not talk to me. Did I do something?”

“Not really”

He winces as soon as the answer leaves his mouth. It wasn’t like him to get so careless- but it also wasn’t like him to avoid her. Really, he was falling apart at the seams and trying quite desperately to appear as though everything was normal.

It wasn’t working. (y/n) could see the panic in his eyes as clear as day. Not to mention the way his lips twitched like he was holding back further explanation. She narrows her eyes as she studies him carefully.

“Not really?” She repeats his lame answer. “So sort of? So I did do something?”

Megumi’s certain that she chose to stand in the doorway so he couldn’t make an easy escape. Would it be immature to summon the rabbits?

“(y/n) it’s- it’s fine. It’s me, alright?” He’s not very convincing.

“So you did something?” Another question he doesn’t want to answer.

“No- just- not really- it was just-” He stammers, and then groans, tilting his head back and glaring at the fluorescent light hanging over him.

He recalls the way he’d sworn to himself that he’d talk to her about her little anesthesia-induced confession, and kicks himself now for cowering out of it. Megumi never really ran away from a challenge, even when he knew he was in over his head. But something about standing before her now and explaining how she’d inadvertently confessed to having a crush on him makes his heart beat out of sync and his throat go dry.

“Look I just don’t want things to be weird between us,” (y/n) sighs, giving up on interrogating him so heavily. “So just… whatever it is, can we talk about it?”

And he swoons, actually swoons. His knees physically feel weak and he has to resist the urge to let all of his muscles relax and sink towards the ground. It was so sweet, so considerate of her to want to mend the nonexistent conflict between them. Megumi didn’t think it was possible to like her more than he already did, but she had a knack for proving him wrong.

So with an anxious breath, he thinks screw it and just lets it out.

“Do you remember waking up and talking to me in the infirmary?”

Her brows furrow, giving him her answer, and then her features soften with realization.

“You visited me in the infirmary?” She asks, almost in a whisper. No, she didn’t remember, and no one had told her she’d had any visitors during her short stay there.

Megumi nods his head.

“Yeah, I… I stayed till you woke up. And you did, for a couple minutes anyways, but you were pretty out of it. Anesthesia and all” He explains.

She tries to rack her memory for any hazy glimpse of talking to Megumi in Shoko’s clinic, but nothing comes to mind. She feels a little guilty now, having forgotten so easily.

“Okay…” She trails off, waiting for the rest of his explanation. “So… something happened then?”

Megumi hesitates, his expression twisted in mild displeasure, like he just stubbed his toe or has to deliver an oral presentation. (y/n) tries to be patient, she really does, but the longer he draws this out the larger the pit in her stomach grows.

“Yeah,” The word comes out through a heavy breath, and he pauses for just a moment longer before admitting the last detail. “You… you sort of confessed that you have a crush on me”

“Oh,”

Relief settles into her bones, and then a spike of panic.

“Oh”

Her eyes are widening and her arms wrap tighter around herself, fingers digging into the sides of her ribs as if she could possibly ground herself with her anxiety reaching an all time high.

For fuck’s sake, she wasn’t this anxious when that Grade One tried to take a massive bite out of her body.

“You were really out of it, though,” Megumi says quickly. “You were just… high. You probably just couldn’t see or think straight-”

“No, I wasn’t just high,” She cuts him off with surprising calmness in her voice, and a short shake of her head. “I do. Have a crush on you, I mean. I didn’t… obviously I didn’t intend to tell you that, but, I guess high-me can’t keep a secret, so…”

She trails off with a bashful giggle that would have embarrassed her if she wasn’t already filled to the brim with embarrassment. Megumi’s lips part, but he doesn’t say anything. The corner of his mouth twitches a few times too, and still, he’s standing in bewildered silence before her.

It’s not that he didn’t believe her, he was eighty-five percent sure that she’d meant what she said while she was still under the influence of the anesthetics, but that fifteen percent of uncertainty was his paranoia getting the best of him. But now she was of sound mind, dead sober, and dead serious as she stared at him and awaited some sort of reaction.

No real reaction came, unless you counted the drumming of his fingers against his side, slow at first, but picking up speed the longer they both stood there and waited for the other to say something.

Megumi knows he should say something, and probably something along the lines of; well that’s a relief because I’m actually crushing on you so hard I don’t know what to do with myself… but unfortunately, he really didn’t know what to do with himself.

“Do I even want to know how badly I embarrassed myself?” (y/n) breaks the silence with a nervous but curious smile.

“You said I looked just like your crush,” He explained, heat flooding to his face as he recalled the other things she said. “It was actually the first thing you said when you woke up,”

She has to laugh at that a little, to which Megumi feels some of the tension in his shoulders disappear. The tension in the room also starts to thin out, much to his relief.

“Then you went on about how cute your crush was. And when I tried to ask how you were feeling, after, you know, surgery and all that, you ignored me and said…” He rubs the back of his neck, growing shy as he realized he was rambling and the subject matter already had his heart racing.

“Oh god… what?” (y/n) gasps, eyes widening, hoping she didn’t let out some dirty thought that she worked very hard to keep in the back of her mind.

“You said I had pretty eyes, and then you sorta let it slip that I was your crush, so I guess you didn’t realize you were talking to me the whole time… and then you passed back out”

She’s laughing again, but this time she covers her face with her hands in a pitiful attempt to hide her blush until it goes away. A small groan dies at the back of her throat. The second hand embarrassment from her past-inebriated-self was just too much.

After all this time she's done so well at keeping her feelings under wraps, of never letting it be known with a slip of tongue or lingering touch, only to tell him so brazenly while in a hospital cot… it was ridiculous.

“God… I’m so sorry, that’s… wow, that’s probably the most humiliating thing I’ve ever done” She starts off looking at him, but ends up muttering to herself and looks away, still overwhelmed by the mortification of it all.

A small smile graces Megumi’s face, and in a moment of being true to his word, he musters up the courage to speak up before she could walk away and pretend this didn’t happen.

“It was more cute than humiliating,” He tells her, and she peeks back up at him in soft surprise. “Maybe just a little embarrassing, just a little… but… still cute” His voice gets softer the longer she looks at him and he starts to lose the confidence he started out so strong with, but he still holds her gaze, hoping that she’ll know he means it.

“Cute?” She repeats in quiet disbelief. Megumi nods back at her with absolute certainty and sincerity.

He gives into another bout of a confidence boost and takes a few steps forward, closing some of the space between them. (y/n) practically scrambles to straighten up away from the doorframe, her shoulders squaring and her eyes widening as she watches him move towards her.

“And for what it’s worth, I think you have pretty eyes, too,”

It’s quieter than he intends, but his words are effective in replacing the nervous tension in the room with something much more palpable. The electricity buzzing between them was so thick they were practically choking on it.

(y/n) smiles, slow at first, processing the sudden compliment, and then all once. Every inch of her skin warmed from the sweet words, and she’s not sure she’s ever felt flattery like this before. She’s never taken a compliment so to heart, never known that she was going to go to sleep that night playing it over and over in her head.

Megumi’s eyes flicker between hers for a moment, admiring the way she lights up with delight before him, and then he opens his mouth again.

“They look just like my crush’s”

Her brows furrow and despite that feeling of embarrassment spiking in her chest again, the corner of her lips curl into a smirk that gives into a smile almost immediately after. Megumi’s clearly amused by this reaction, laughing to himself like he was so proud of his own tease.

“That’s so corny” She mutters, before stepping away from the doorway and closing the last bit of distance between them.

Despite his nerves he anticipates her movements, large hands finding purchase on her hips and practically yanking her the rest of the way that it takes to have her body against his. There’s no extra time for words before their lips crash fast. The kiss is surprisingly tender for how rushed their movements were, but it had them both melting into the other right away.

Her hands are gentle as they smooth over his shoulders before wrapping lightly at the nape of his neck. Her fingers poke into the dark strands of hair that hang there, and when she curls a few locks between her index and middle finger, he presses his lips against hers with a little more fervor.

Even once they part from one another, neither one goes very far. Gasping for air with lips still brushing each other’s, noses bumping, and hands still holding on tight all in the name of not putting an inch of distance between them.

Still no words are exchanged as they share a look before both glancing at the open doorway behind them. It doesn’t take verbal communication for Megumi to reach behind her to grab the door by the handle and swing it shut. The only sound that fills the room is the white noise buzzing from the dryer cycle, and the soft giggle that’s immediately suppressed by warm, inviting lips pressing against hers again.

___

a/n: thank u again my amazing nanami flowershop anon for this really fun idea. also i just love playful megumi. he's so cute n shy <3

xoxo ~ jordie

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healingagoddess · 7 months

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Stranger

Pairing: Ajak/Wanda Maximoff/F!Reader

Summary: MINORS DNI. One night Wanda comes crashing into your shared homestead with Ajak and soon takes over your home incluiding Ajak, but it is you what she wants. Events after MOM.

Words: 1856

Warnings: mommy kink, degradation, fingering, use of heavy language, cnc. English is not my first language. If I missed any warnings let me know.

Note: *foaming at the mouth* NOBODY ASKED FOR THIS, NOBODY WANTED THIS, I DON'T CAREE!! I'm going to put it out here since I already wrote it and it is now y'alls problem. I had written some Thenajak, but my laptop was broken and I lost everything. So, bear with me and I just don't care. I did not re read it to edit nor fix my grammar, I can't re read what I write. Thank you :3.

It’s not that you hated the idea, in fact, you humored it a few times. When a redhead came crashing in the middle of the night seeking refugee before passing out on your living room, you and Ajak immediately took her in. She was healed in an instant, yet there was something dark holding her down. You could feel it, and you knew Ajak did too. She kept quiet for the most part, neither you nor Ajak wanting to make your guest uncomfortable, whatever trouble she had it was yours too.

It started with a few glances, both of them staring at each other communicating something between them both completely ignoring you. The way they raised their eyebrows at each other with no words needed. It made you feel small. Unwanted.

Mommy was never like this, she never ignored you, she was always ready to care for you and to tend to your every need. You were her special girl that she would nurse every night to sleep. You did not like this change. It was as if she had been consumed by a dark energy. This was far from being the woman you loved so much.

Whatever they had grew into something else, meanwhile Ajak was still the same when the both of you were alone, at times it felt like she was holding something back. Her mind seemed to be miles away in a distant place you could never reach, and it was different from other times. The way she was condescending with her care for you and her actions hurt the most.

It was night time when the both of you had gotten ready for bed. Mommy had bathed you and changed you into your long nightgown - the white one with pink roses. She had opted to sit in bed with her back resting against the headboard ignoring how you stood by the bed waiting for her to tuck you in. When she didn’t you crawled in bed silently smiling at her waiting for her attention as you sat back looking at her. Still nothing. Now you had to be more direct with your need as you laid your head on her lap looking up at her.

“Mommy” you called out softly.

“Hm?” She asked not looking away from her book.

You tugged at her own nightgown.

She looked down at you with a raised brow. “What is it, mi niña?”

You signaled down at your body. “You forgot about me.”

“I could never forget about you.” She smiled fondly.

You smiled back dumbly.

“Do you think we could tell stories before we sleep? Or maybe we could-”

The sound of somebody opening the door cut you off. You frowned at the intrusion as you looked at who had just walked in. It was Wanda dressed in her own sleeping clothes, a soft smile on her features as she stared at Ajak. A book of her own in her hands, you did not pay it any mind as you sat up waiting for an explanation. Looking back at Ajak you found her smiling back at her. And you felt small again.

“Mommy?”

“Sorry, Ajak! I was just reading one of your books and I thought that what I found was interesting and wanted to share with you.” She didn’t care to pay you any mind as she made her way to your bed and got in right next to you facing Ajak.

“It was one of my favorite books a long time ago. It holds so much truth of the world.” Ajak responded.

You pouted immediately adjusting your body to lay on top of Ajak with your arms on each of her side embracing her as you rested your head on her chest. You knew that it didn’t matter what you said or did, they would ignore you or treat you like a child anyways. You focused on the sound of Ajak’s ticking of a heartbeat and the soft raising of her chest gently swaying you as you drowned their voices in the background. You closed your eyes for a moment, ignoring the way they made you feel. You felt somewhat safe when Ajak did hold your body against her wrapping her arms around your hips. Then you fell into slumber.

It was dark when you woke up still late into the night and noticed you were on your side with your head slightly nuzzled into Ajak’s side facing into her direction. What was odd was the pressure you felt on you back and a strange sensation between your legs. It was definitely Wanda with one arm resting against your hip while her fingers rubbed at your clit – gown pulled up around your hips and panties slightly down. You whined as you tried to pull away reaching out for Ajak, but soon you felt her free hand pressing against your tummy holding you in place.

She shushed you down quite loudly. “It’s okay. Just let me play a little bit with you. I know you’ll love it. You don’t want to wake up mommy, do you?” Her tone was condescending.

You whimpered against her, the words dying out in your mouth as you felt the heat travel through your body. For a moment consumed by the sensation you rocked your hips with sleep still in your eyes and movements as you tried to focus on Ajak’s figure. You were not supposed to enjoy what Wanda was doing, but having been asleep when she started her assault on you there was an obvious reaction from your body, the wetness between your tights that stained the sheets were an indication of this. It felt so good your breath quickened, almost falling into the lust until you felt guilt. With one of your hands, you held onto Ajak pulling your upper body close to her while Wanda continued to rub at you. Before Wanda could stop you Ajak was awakened by you holding onto her and shaking her a little.

With a slap to your pussy Wanda spoke “you brat, you woke up your mommy.”

You began to cry.

Ajak’s sleepy eyes met your teary ones, a moan escaped your body as Wanda pressed her fingers inside you slipping in with ease. She pulled out her fingers rather quickly and spanked your exposed ass earning a yelp from you.

“Mommy.” You cried out.

“Sh, sh, sh,” Ajak hushed you cupping your face and wiping away your tears “it’s okay, I’m here. Let Wanda play with you a little bit. She’ll make you feel good; be a good girl for her.”

You shook your head no and cried some more as Ajak wasn’t even faced with the way Wanda was treating you or what she had done to you. Note ven caring to truly comfort you like you wanted her to.

“No, don’t be a bad girl and let Wanda please you. She’s being so kind doing so.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at you and rolled onto her back. “She already woke you up; she deserves to be punished.”

Ajak’s hand cupped your dripping pussy, humming when she felt your wetness. Desperation overtook your senses as you felt guilty and caught with your arousal, but also scared as a punishment was mentioned. You never got punished before.

“Bebé, you are so wet,” she said contemplating, her fingers pushing through your folds “don’t say no to her; you are practically begging for it.”

“How can you say that?” You asked in disbelief. “I only want you, not her or anybody else. Just you.”

“Really? Then why are you messing my sheets with your wetness? You want this. Now, don’t be a bad girl anymore and I promise there won’t be any punishment.”

“Tonight.” Wanda added with a smirk.

You gave up knowing you did not have the power nor the energy to fight them, or to say no to Ajak. You couldn’t even say no to Wanda as your body reacted so well to her. They were right: you liked it and you wanted it so bad. Laying back down on the bed with no more resistant Wanda practically pounced on you holding you back like she did before, but this time she buried her fingers deep inside of you. You groaned at the feeling fixing your gaze on Ajak who seemed quite pleased with your obedience, she got closer to your face pressing her forehead against yours as she whispered sweet nothings and praises for being so good.

“You can try and deny it all you want,” Wanda whispered in your ear, “but look at how well your body is reacting to me, taking both of my fingers so well into your pussy like the whore you are.”

You moaned loudly against Ajak, your hips bucking against Wanda seeking more friction.

“You are so desperate it is kinda pathetic, don’t you think Ajak?”

Ajak hummed, she didn’t know how to feel with how easily you actually gave up, but at the same time it’s what they wanted. You were to submit to them, being their precious little thing that you were meant to be.

You were consumed by pleasure, too dumb to say anything other than to moan and groan against both of them. It felt so good to be filled by the redhead, and when your mommy reaching down to rub at your clit you were gone; lost in the lust as your eyes rolled to the back of your head with your lips parted letting out little whimpers. Other than the only sound in the room was the sloshing wet sounds from Wanda’s fingers rapid movements. You could almost see stars in your state, you felt the tightness on your belly ready to burst and your moans higher pitched by the second.

“She is about to cum. No warning.” Ajak said.

“Do it then.” Wanda ordered.

You came right away with a loud cry, your walls clenching around Wanda as she tried to hold you in place with your trembling body. Ajak taking you by the hips as she held you in place making it easier for Wanda and for you to ride your high. Your senses were overtaken by Wanda, she was everywhere inside your mind and there was no way to fight it. You didn’t know it was all her using her magic to force your submission faster, it was her controlling your body. She was surprised to find she could have her way with you either way, you were far too dumb and innocent to resist her experienced advantages.

When you came back from your high Wanda shoved her fingers inside your mouth forcing you to suck and taste your sweet juice. You did so messily with a moan, nothing new as you had tasted yourself many times on Ajak’s mouth. The healer brough her own fingers to her lips and cleaned them with a hum.

“Such a good, girl. I’m sure you’ll be ready for your new mama in no time to take in her special toy.” Ajak whispered hovering on top of you and pushing your legs up as she descended your body. “Time to clean you up.”

#Ajak #Wanda Maximoff #mommy wanda #mommy ajak #wandajak #ajak x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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ninjigma · 1 year

Text

QuinFox Week Part 6/7 - First / Previous / Next

Day 6: Sleep/Nap + Psychometry Track: 'Touch' - Sleeping At Last (Spotify / YouTube)

This time it was Quinlan’s own racing heart that woke him.

His dreams had been filled with blaster fire, flashes of his parents blending into recognized red armor. The screams of his Mother echoed around him as he picked up the broken helmet, saw his own reflection in the visor, his eyes burning yellow-

The screams became his own.

He heaved in air, awareness spreading out with the Force into the dim room in search of the threat. He had tried to sit up, felt pain flare in his abdomen and caused him to stall halfway, curling to lean on his uninsured right side.

“-nlan, focus on me. I know you recognize my voice you joke about it being familiar all the time-“

“Fox?”

He hadn’t even noticed Fox come in, or maybe he had been in the bunk next to him? He hadn’t sensed him in his panic though he had been searching for threats, which Fox definitely wasn’t. If anything Quinlan latched his focus on Fox now and felt only safety, a comfort in the strength of another.

“I’d say who else could I be but I guess there are at least a couple thousand possibilities,” Fox’s voice became sharper again, falling back on familiar humor at the sign that Quinlan was successfully anchoring himself.

Another few breaths and Quinlan managed to croak out “Lucky guess then.”

Fox snorted, standing from where he had been kneeling in front of Quinlan. Slowly he reached out, hands barely brushing Quinlan’s shoulder in a clear direction for the Jedi to lay back down, which he did with a soft groan.

“You should drink something,” the clone Commander pointed out. “Can probably eat now too if-“

“My mother. It was about my Mother.”

Fox pulled up short, half a step from turning away to grab the mentioned water and food. It was the middle of a sleep cycle, so he hadn’t been far when Quinlan’s choked scream woke him, but now he felt almost disconnected as Quinlan opened up in a very rare moment.

A moment he was sharing, though quietly, as if Fox would push it off- no. As if Quinlan was giving Fox the option to push it off, that he didn’t need to stay and listen.

But Fox had always listened before, even to things he definitely knew were ridiculous from the man before him. Why do anything different now?

At least, that was the reasoning Fox used as he returned to his spot from earlier, sitting and eyes tracking over Quinlan to check no bandages had come undone in the panic.

“Your… Mother?”

Quinlan’s head gave the shortest nod but hadn’t managed to look to Fox yet. “She was… murdered. Both of my parents were, sacrificed by my great aunt to Anzati. I was four. They gave me her medallion, the one she wears in every memory I have. And-“

At this, his eyes closed, and Fox watched the signs of Quinlan slowing to find a semblance of control and balance, something honestly quite rare for the straightforward man to do.

“And they gave it to me knowing full well I was what they described as ‘the best example of psychometry they’d ever seen’. I held the medallion and I relived their deaths like they were my own until Master Tholme found me.”

Fox blinked. He didn’t know truly what to do with any of that information. Surely he couldn’t change the past and had no similar experience of even having a parent to begin with. This wasn’t something he could fight physically or even parse out verbally. But before he could grow any more uncertain with the want to help but no path to understanding how, Quinlan continued with all the calm he shouldn’t have if Fox was to believe he was okay.

“Sorry if that is a lot. You asked about her and it’s only an explanation of why I panicked. It was long ago, and I deal with it as best I can. I’m telling you not because I think you change anything about it Fox, but just cause you asked,” dark features finally pulled away from the ceiling to land on Fox. “All you had to do was listen, which you did. So, thank you.”

Fox didn’t feel like he should be thanked. Like he hadn’t done anything to actually help, though Quinlan always made it clear that Fox didn’t ever owe him anything. Thus he found himself nodding, agreeing as best he could in the heavy silence.

Fox could be snippy, strong-headed, and fiercely loyal, pointed himself in a direction and slipped and fought his way to the end with everything he had. And though Quinlan told him thank you, Fox decided he could definitely do more than just sit here looking dumb to receive it.

He didn’t owe it to Quinlan, he wanted it for himself.

He reached out, fast before he could rethink it, and took Quinlan’s hand in his own. The Jedi didn’t even flinch, simply gave a short inhale and let his eyes flutter close. Fox had no idea how anything Jedi truly worked, but Quinlan had explained his need for gloves and how his psychometry worked before. Recalling that, he had wondered if Quinlan was strong enough to pick up memories or imagery, and decided he at least wanted to try. A chance to help Quinlan in some way even if it wasn’t with a blaster or armor.

Face scrunching up slightly in concentration and a thought of how insane this all truly sounded if he thought too long, he pictured Dex’s. He thought about how it had been one of the first places Quinlan ever convinced Fox to eat at. He even recalled some of that meeting, how excited Dex had been, how the food quickly become something Fox loved, and then how it ended with Fox dangling off a speeder while Quinlan attempted to help him and also steer with the Force.

He really did collect the insane one this time didn’t he? Maybe even give Rex a run for his money in the crazy General department.

Quinlan suddenly laughed, choked but a laugh nonetheless. So perhaps it wasn’t that insane to think that even without being able to use the Force, Quinlan could reach out and find Fox instead. Like he always seemed able to do.

“Cody is the one with the crazy General,” Quinlan murmured. “But thanks for the nomination.”

Fox thought of some of the stories Cody had told him and snorted softly as Quinlan laughed again.

“I- I can’t tell what you are thinking exactly, it is more an impression and imagery thing, and people are always complicated. But you definitely have no contradictions in the feelings of ‘you’re crazy’.”

Fox rolled his eyes, though at least he hadn’t thought of anything too embarrassing or made a mockery of holding Quinlan’s hand for no reason. “It’s because it isn’t complicated, just a fact. You are crazy.”

“Crazy about you.”

It had been said teasingly, familiar in Quinlan’s antics of flirting playfully with Fox, in which the commander would normally quip back at him. But after everything, Fox being confronted with how much hearing Quinlan say goodbye hurt, how his heart plummeted when Quinlan had collapsed so lifelessly in his arms, how every step carrying him back made him fear he may never again hear those flirting comments again, and thus never feel the resulting small flutters of hope that they could be true; after all of it, he finally put a few thoughts to his feelings. A few realizations that his priorities and wants may have shifted without him ever really noticing. Like the shadow he was, Quinlan had slipped in close and before Fox knew it he found he didn’t want to be left alone in the dark again.

In a blink, he decided he wanted Quinlan to stay with him.

“Fox?”

And in another blink, he realized his mistake.

“Sorry, I-” he pulled his hand back, every intention of moving away, under the guise of getting Quinlan or drink or maybe even an excuse to check the ship again. But he had barely let go before Quinlan’s own hand wrapped around his, anchoring the clone in place.

“No, Fox, it’s okay. You don’t have to leave,” Quinlan’s voice was low, raw in a way Fox had never heard before. “I want to stay, want you to stay, if you do too.”

Quiet. Neither of them was known for being quiet, especially not when they were together. But now it filled the small room, cushioned them both in silence that spoke louder than any words. Shifted to still and watched as they both took soft breaths.

Fox moved first.

Slowly he slid towards Quinlan, who moved the blanket back like he had been expecting it. And maybe he had with whatever Jedi nonsense Fox still scrunched his nose up about, but what was important is actually how his own stomach flipped over itself as he was now on his side, one arm naturally stretching out along the bed which Quinlan quickly accommodated, laying still on his back to not agitate his injuries.

Again they stilled, Fox’s eyes drifting over the dreadlocks splayed out across the small bit of pillow between them. Now he was close enough to pick apart the smallest scar almost hidden by Quinlan’s eyebrow, how those yellow tattoos complemented the deep color of his skin, a complexion even darker than Fox’s.

“Don’t forget to breathe, Commander.”

A joke, one that shocked a scoff out of Fox as he tried not to show how he began to consciously breathe again. “And don’t you dare irritate your wounds. I spent way too long patching them up for you to aggravate them again.”

Quinlan’s eyes had shut and left Fox the illusion of privacy even as he could watch the rise and fall of Quinlan’s bare chest. The hand that had come to rest between them looked wrong now that it was empty, and there was still that little space between them.

Fox shifted closer, fingers drifting over the back of Quinlan’s hand. The Kiffar man hummed quietly, shifted his hand above Fox’s and moved closer as well. Naturally, they tucked close together, and Fox found his nose pressed to soft locks and Quinlan's head turned slightly to ghost breath across the low hollow of Fox’s throat.

“So, you really carried me all the way back?”

Fox steadied himself in the note of humor, even if Quinlan’s own voice still had those unsure feelings hidden in it. It didn’t phase Fox, especially because of how his own emotions were still as confusing as ever and thus he focused on that familiar banter.

“Yeah, dragged your self-sacrificing Jedi ass back here and I still haven’t heard a thank you.”

“Awe, would my clone in shining armor like a kiss for his efforts?”

Fox rolled his eyes and sank a bit closer. “I think the painkillers are still affecting you, you sound delusional.”

“Not at all, Fox,” Quinlan hummed. “So much not that I may actually pass out from the pain.”

Fox tried to hide his smile. “Can’t be that bad if you didn’t say anything, di’kut.”

“You would’ve gotten up, and I didn’t want you too.” Quinlan's eyes opened lazily to glance towards their entwined fingers, smile small but bright. “Not a chance Foxie, not for anything.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“All for you Fox. A true menace or you wouldn’t like me.”

Fox felt the other man sag against him. His voice had slurred, being awake finally becoming too exhausting for him. And Fox selfishly accepted the moment, relished in the touch of someone he found he trusted explicitly for the rare seconds he would have it.

Only to realize… he didn’t have to steal the moment. Vos had gifted it to him. Was giving him the chance, the choice, the option. Told him exactly what he wanted, and gave the Fox the moment to back out or get up and leave. To keep the distance they had carefully crafted with their quips and side missions and drunk sabacc games.

Quinlan’s thumb brushed over the back of Fox’s hand.

Fox stayed.

#this one came out a tad longer then the rest #and a lot longer then intended #but it all felt too sweet to cut any shorter #could I go on forever about them?#Potentially #don't tempt my stubborn streak #foxquinweek2023 #quinlan vos #clone commander fox #quinfox #foxquin #quinlan x fox #fanart #my art #my writing

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leviathans-watching · 2 years

Text

☽ chapter six | wc: 3k | series m.list ☾

You stare at Mammon for a long moment, resisting the inappropriate urge to laugh. “Um, maybe, yeah,” you say, the words sharp, and he comes further into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Okay, before I start on my explanation,” Mammon says, forcing some humor into his tone, “on a scale of one to ten, how pissed are you?”

You roll your eyes, and the tension eases somewhat. You aren’t going to fly off the handle or anything, something he seems to realize, as his shoulders relax. “I’m more…confused,” you say, having to search for the right word. “I don’t understand why you decided to hide this from me. I had to get an explanation from Solomon. Solomon!”

“I am sorry,” he says placatingly, remorsefully. “I never thought things would turn out like this. Look, I’m going to start from the beginning, okay?”

You make a gesture for him to go ahead and he does.

“When I was first summoned,” he says, sitting down on the bed, “I was confused outta my mind. You gotta understand- I had just done a huge-ass research paper on binding spells, and there I was, bound to someone I’d never met before. Someone, who, to my surprise, didn’t even mean to do it! Until I learned Solomon was behind it, I was scared as hell!”

Despite yourself, you smile.

“And you were so scared. I thought for sure you were gonna pass out right there in your own house! How could I explain the depth of the situation to someone who was gonna have an apoplexy if I tried to? So I settled on a half-explanation, planning to tell you the full story later. But as you can imagine,” he continues ruefully, “something like that isn’t an easy thing to explain, especially when I’d played dumb beforehand. So I kept choking, and then too much time had passed and I was really stuck!”

“But you knew I was going to find out the truth about the spell eventually,” you cut in, and he nods.

“Yeah, but I thought to make it like I hadn’t known either. But Solomon,” he says bitterly, “ruined that. Please don’t think for a second that I liked lyin’ to you, or that I thought it was the right thing to do. My brothers are right when they call me a coward.”

You want to slap that self-deprecating smile right off his face, but now is not the time for that. “Okay, I understand where you’re coming from,” you say slowly. “Not that I agree with you, but I understand. But here’s something I don’t understand. If you were so concerned about the bond, why didn’t you just-” you pause, finding the quote from the text “-‘sincerely wish it to be broken, with all of your heart and mind’?”

Mammon winces a little, seeming reluctant to speak, and you roll your eyes.

“Look,” you say firmly, “I know you’re a demon, and I know you, Mammon. I’m under no illusions about your nature. Just tell me the truth.”

“Alright, alright,” Mammon agrees. “It was selfish of me, but I was usin’ you. If you can remember, I hadn’t been in the human realm in some time, trapped firmly under Lucifer’s thumb. You were the mean to an end, with the end being my freedom, short-lived as it may be. I was just gonna use you for as long as I could, but Diavolo’s letter threw a wrench in my plans. Plus,” he adds, “you kinda grew on me, Sweetcheeks. At first, I only wanted to use ya for that, but as time went on, I began to understand why we bonded in the first place. You’re funny, and kind, and talented as hell. I really like you. You’re a cool-ass person, you know?”

“I do know,” you say, and he cracks a smile, one that dims quickly.

“I’d understand if you want to break the bindin’,” Mammon says quietly. “After all, I lied to you and used you. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to forgive me.”

“Now, when did I ever say that?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips, and he blinks, taken aback by your sudden fierceness.

“What?”

“When did I ever say I wanted to break our binding?” you repeat. “As much as I hate to admit it, you’ve grown on me too. Almost like a fungus.” He opens his mouth but you push on. “So you did some dumb stuff. But so did I! I put my trust in Solomon and messed around with magic I wasn’t prepared for, trapping you with me. As far as I can tell, we’re equally at fault.”

“Those are nowhere near comparable-” Mammon stars, but you cut him off.

“Just stop arguing with me. We both know I’m gonna win.”

Mammon gulps. “Okay.”

“Good,” you say, “now that that’s done, I can do this.” You light the report on fire, relishing the way it crumbles. Brushing your hands free of ash, you shake your head. “Fucking Solomon, trying to start drama. Good thing we’re a cut above his league.”

Mammon doesn’t reply, so you look over at him. “What?”

“Are we just going to ignore that I basically confessed to you?” he asks, and you shrug.

“I don’t know, are we?”

“No!” Mammon makes a visible effort to calm his tone. “I mean, I don’t want to. I like you, MC. I like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too,” you reply glibly, and he frowns.

“No, I mean-”

“I know what you mean,” you say gently, walking over to him. “And I feel the same way. But personally, I don’t really want to have this conversation in this, honestly, kind of ugly room with your family down the hall. I think it can wait for a few days until we get back to my house. If that’s alright with you, I guess,” you add graciously.

“Yeah, yeah that works,” Mammon says, the tips of his ears red. You hold out a hand to help him up, one he takes and doesn’t let go of for a long moment. You let him do as he pleases, also thankful for his touch. Though you’d tried your best to act sure of yourself and confident, you were just about as nervous during the conversion as Mammon had been. Plus, you hadn’t only stopped his full confession because of the reasons you’d said- you weren’t ready for him to say it! The affection growing between you had been something you’ve tried to ignore, so you need a little bit to come to terms with it before he actually acts!

“So, what now?” you ask, taking a calming breath and showing all of your thoughts into a little box in your mind, locking it tight, and Mammon looks to the door.

“Well, I know my brothers want to spend more time with you,” he says. “I spent all morning talkin’ you up and now they're more curious than ever.”

“It’s funny,” you muse, placing your hand over the pact mark laying under your shirt, “before we talked I was so nervous but now that I know the truth about the binding and that we’re not necessarily faking a relationship, I’m more at ease. So bring them on!”

“You’re such a weirdo,” Mammon says, but his tone is fond. You stick your tongue out at him, making your way to the door. Pulling it open with gusto, you make your way out into the hall, almost running smack-dab into someone.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you say, realizing it’s Lucifer. “I didn’t see you.”

“I gathered that,” Lucifer says dryly, but he doesn’t seem quite as cold as he had been yesterday. “Are you free? My brothers and I would all like a chance to get to know you better.”

“I was just coming to find you all,” you say. “Lead the way! I’d love to get to know you guys better too.”

Behind you, you think you hear Mammon swallow a laugh, but you ignore him, smiling up at Lucifer.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

To your surprise, everyone, including Belphegor, is much more welcoming today. It seems like Mammon really has convinced them that you’re not trying to take advantage of him or whatever, and for that, you’re grateful. You pass the time swapping stories (mostly about Mammon), and by the time dinner rolls around, you’re pretty confident you’ve left a good impression on them all.

It helps that Simeon is there, smoothing the road by asking you insightful questions, and though you don’t know the angel well at all, you’re immeasurably grateful for his presence.

Like the night before, you and Mammon sit next to one another at the table. Solomon quirks a brow at your closeness but doesn’t say anything and the best you can muster up for him is a strained smile that just barely conceals your irritation with the sorcerer.

Diavolo seems to pick up on your new camaraderie with the rest of the brothers, smiling at you proudly when no one’s looking and making sure to keep the conversation flowing. His pride shouldn’t affect you in the slightest and yet you feel warmer receiving the smile, like you’ve just done something right. It’s weird, but you can understand why he makes such a good ruler of the devildom.

“So, when are you planning to head back up to the human realm?” Satan asks, and you shrug.

“It all depends on Diavolo, doesn’t it? I planned to be down here for a week at most, which is fine, but any longer isn’t possible because of my shop.”

Diavolo waves a hand. “Stay as long as you’d like! My castle is your castle, or however it goes. Of course, if you’d like to head back sooner, that’s totally fine with me too.”

You don’t miss the look he gives Lucifer, who gives the tiniest nod in return. You guess Mammon had been right when he said Lucifer pulls a few of Diavolo’s strings, especially concerning his brothers. Though you haven’t had time to get to know the eldest in a one-on-one setting, you can see his care for his family, even if he struggles to express it. That doesn’t mean you’re excusing his controlling tendencies, or saying the way Mammon’s been treated is okay at all, but you’re thankful that he at least seems to be coming from a good-ish place.

The brothers’ lives have not been easy, that much you’re aware of, and you can’t imagine how Mammon and Lucifer have managed, being the two oldest and all. The burden upon their shoulders is something the younger boys will never understand, and you’re not even sure that Mammon understands the one that Lucifer carries.

It’s a complication situation, but most families are, and with them you can rest easy knowing there is genuine affection and care.

“I have an idea,” Diavolo says excitedly, drawing you from your thoughts. His attention is focused on you, and you’re not sure if that’s a good sign or not. “How about MC gives us a magic show after dinner?”

“I,” Solomon volunteers, “for one, would love that. I’ve been interested to see how my little apprentice’s skills have improved. Perhaps we can duel?”

“That could be fun,” you say wickedly, and Mammon stifles a cold laugh. You don’t think Solomon’s grasped the sheer amount of power you now have, and this will bea good way for you and Mammon to get back at him. “We’ll need a big and preferably non-breakable space for it though.”

“That’s easy enough,” Diavolo says, seemingly delighted by the prospect.

“Let’s place bets!” Mammon crows. “I’m votin’ for MC!”

“How fun. I’ll vote for MC as well,” Diavolo says.

“No offence, MC, but my bets are on Solomon,” Asmodeus coos. “Have you all forgotten I’ve got a pact with him? I wouldn’t make one with any old sorcerer.”

“I’m with Asmo,” Satan agrees. “Despite the innate talent MC may have, Solomon is a king with centuries of experience under his belt.”

“Gosh, this is just like this anime I’ve been watching!” Leviathan says, and Mammon makes a low groan from beside you. “In Naive Human fights Experianced Sorcerer and Against All Odds Ends Up Winning, the Naive Human wins so I guess I’ll go with MC!”

“Well, Beel and I are for Solomon,” Belphegor says, crossing his arms. Beside him, Beelzebub doesn’t even look up, applying himself to his food with vengeance.

“I hope MC wins!” Luke pipes up, surprising you. You had thought he’d vote for Solomon, since they lived together and all, but you guess you were wrong.

“As do I,” Simeon says, a smile playing at the edges of his lips. “Should there be a punishment for the loser?”

Solomon smirks. “There should be. Loser owes the winner one favor. One favor that we swear on.”

“A favor?” Leviathan questions. “That’s kind of boring!”

“No,” you speak up, “it’s really not. What Solomon is proposing is the right to have complete autonomy of the other. If he were to win, he’d be able to ask me to do anything. Anything. I since I swore on it, I wouldn’t be able to say no.”

“That seems a little serious for a playful duel,” Mammon tries, but you give him a look.

“No, I’ll agree to it. After all, if I win, Solomon had to uphold those same rules. So,” you say, holding your hand out to Solomon, “let’s swear on it.”

You complete the oath while everyone watches on with interest. You can feel the promise settling over you, his incantion weighing heavily, and know you have to win. Not only so you don’t have to be beholden to Solomon, but also so that you prove you can do this and not let everyone who’s put their faith in you down.

And it would be nice to put Solomon in his place. He’s really getting on your nerves.

Diavolo and Barbatos teleport you to the makeshift arena, and after a few ground rules, like ‘no maiming’ are laid out, you and Solomon take your places. He looks comfortable and confident, but before you can begin to overthink it, Mammon claps you on the shoulder.

“You’ve got this,” he says, determination blazing in his eyes. “After all, you’ve got The Great Mammon backin’ you up.”

You laugh. “Oh, well, in that case, how could I not win?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he says mock seriously, and you can’t reisst the urge to tug him to you, giving him a quick kiss before he has time to register what’s going on. He sputters, going red right before your eyes, and you, with a new confidence, lean into his ear.

“Help me win and you’ll get a real kiss,” you say, and he regains his cool with record speed.

“What happened to waiting?”

You shrug impishly. “I got impatient.”

His eyes soften; you think he’s never been so attractive. It helps that he’s finally shifted into his demon form and all of those delicious abs are once more on display. “I’m going to hold you to that,” he says seriously. “So you better be ready to win.”

“Are you going to keep making out or are we going to do this any time soon?” Solomon calls boredly, and you huff out an irritated breath. Mammon gives you one last, wolfish smile, then goes to the side, standing with the rest of the audience.

The duel starts and its apparent that Solomon’s only toying with you. You put a quick stop to that quickly by sending a volley of spells his way, most of them your own creation. It’s harder for him to block something he’s never dealth with before, and it shows in his sloppy spellwork.

It feels amazing to finally use your magic - Mammon’s magic - to its full potential. The hexes you’re sending are stronger than anything you’ve ever done before but it feels like it’s taking no effort. Mammon doesn’t look affected at all, thankfully, so you continue on, using his power at will.

The duel is laughably short, and you utterly trounce him. To the point where he’s visibly sweating and straining, and you’re still relaxed.

“Fine,” he spits, an inhumane gleam in his eyes, “I give. MC wins!”

“Ha!” you say victoriously, dropping all of your spells. In a show of good sportsmanship, you help him up, making sure he’s alright.

“MVC, that was amazing!” he says, not at all put out that you’ve won. “As I said this morning, you have the makings of a great sorcerer!”

“Solomon,” you interrupt tiredly, “as I said this morning, I have no interest in that. In fact, I think I’m going to use my favor now.”

Everyone gasps, and you just smile.

“Go ahead,” Solomon allows. “I’m interested to se what you’ve come up with.”

“That favor I need from you,” you begin grandly, “is to just please, for the love of god, leave me alone for a little while.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Mammon corners you when you get back to your room, poucning immediately.

“I believe I have a kiss to cash in,” he says, looking down his nose at you.

“I believe you do,” you agree, excitement thrumming under your skin. “So come here and cash it in.”

His skin is hot under your hands, and his breath is hot on your face. When his lips meet yours, you sigh into him, melting immediately.

“Damn,” Mammon says, pulling back slightly. “I guess we really are soulmates, because Sweetcheeks, your lips were fucking made for me.”

“Shut up!” you laugh, pushing him away. “That’s corny as hell.”

He catches your hand, expression warm, and you want to go back to your house, like ASAP.

“Good job on winning the duel,” he says.

“I only won thanks to you,” you say, and he shakes his head.

“No way! That was all skill. I only provided the energy.”

“Yeah, but without the energy, I wouldn’t have been able to do jack shit,” you point out, and he sighs.

“Fine. We’re both awesome ass people who put Solomon in his place. Happy?”

“Very. But I have once question for you,” you say, finally giving voice to a thought that’s plagued you since you met him. “Can I touch your abs?”

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225 notes · View notes

randomfoggytiger · 2 years

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X-Files Collector’s Edition: Time Travel, Time Loops, and Just Wrong Timing

Time travel and loops were explored sparingly in the X Files universe; but what is a fandom without a handy dandy dump truck filled with more AUs to add to the fic landfill? These are just the few that passed my litmus test, either by earned merit or because there was at least something in them that was worth reading. Which ones are which is up to you, though I recommend ChaneenW’s, FridayAt9′s, somanycandle’s, Jo-Ann Lassiter’s, Donna’s, and Lolabeegood’s works (maybe because they have the happiest outlooks by the end.)

(**Edited: included @anders-hawke’s Nine Minutes? short**)

Loose chronological order below~

Here we go!

Timeline (mostly) Intact

vessel (saved at orphan_account on Ao3)

““The scientific explanation for all this is overwhelmingly simple: salt blocks hydration, dehydration rots the cells composing the human body. In spite of this, I am struck once again with the improbability that the laws of nature would mutate to allow such a phenomenon, to make a human being age fifty years in a matter of hours.””

Dod Kalm old Scully waits for death, pondering science and impending death.

Sheryl Nantus/Sheryl Martin’s (FFN) Nine Minutes

““It was a long time, when you sat and timed it.

Watching the digital figures spin up through the cycle; headed for the top figure of 9:00. Or 540 seconds. Or whatever you measured it by.

It was still nine minutes. Nine minutes that she could never have back again.””

Cancer Arc Scully has lived her life in her own self-imposed time loop: continually obsessing over the 9 minutes she lost in the Pilot, trying vainly to regain them back by resetting her watch every few minutes.

It’s not quite a time loop; but Scully is locked mentally in one, so it counts.

((BONUS! Works well with--

@lyndsaybones’s (Ao3) Incremental

““The watch fit her perfectly when she got it. He remembers thinking that it seemed child sized then. Do they make Omega watches for kids?

But the weight started sloughing off of her like autumn leaves and he started to feel more fear than hope. The watch starts telling more than time.””

Mulder observes the measure of Scully’s decay with her expensive new watch.))

ChaneenW’s

The Birds and the Bees

““We’re in this together,” he insisted, turning to look at her face.

“We’re in this together,” she repeated, squeezing her arms more tightly around him.

“We just need to find a way to remind ourselves,” he said, starting to slur a little as his face froze. “Some small thing that we do or say could change the whole sequence of events and maybe knock ourselves out of the loop before it gets this far.””

FTF albatrosses of Antarctica keep resetting Mulder and Scully’s journey from the hallway and escape from the alien spaceship (with varying results) until those two right the wrongs the bee made. It quickly devolves from any possible angst into humor and heart while getting subtly funnier the longer the loop goes.

Twice Upon a Time

““The more time he spent here, though, the more it became uncomfortably clear that Eddie hadn’t been wrong about him. He had been a loser back then: too focused on searching for the big answers to see what was right in front of him. And although he’d been immediately attracted to Scully when they first met, had instantly respected her knowledge and expertise, and had come to quickly trust her with his life, he had to acknowledge that it had taken him longer than it should have to realize how much he loved her.””

S9 Mulder wakes in his old apartment, confused to learn he has traveled back to the Eddie van Blundht case. At first he has fun breezily solving it and looking anew at his life; but soon S4 Scully notices how differently he’s acting as the glitz and glamor of time-travel fades and homesickness sets in.

@fridaysat9′s (Ao3) A Second’s Fraction

““Why, and more importantly, how, was she standing in her apartment? She had just been in the hospital with injuries and broken bones. She had been talking to Mulder, wishing for pain meds and sleep.

She lifted her arm, surprised to find that it was no longer in a sling. She moved to touch her face, which was completely free of injuries. She patted her hands down the front of her clothes, realizing she was wearing the shirt she had put on that morning. It was clean, and free of spilled coffee.””

Post Drive-- Scully is reset from a horrific car accident, having to live the same day over and over. She, by turns: deals with it alone, tries breaking routine, tries following Diana, tries reaching out to Mulder... all for them to fail. Soon, she is losing hope.

This is engaging, and never gets old.

Jo-Ann Lassiter’s Many Happy Returns

““Why are you making me come here?"

It sounded so like a mortally-wounded Mulder that any fear she may have harbored toward the--whatever it was--evaporated. She stepped from behind Mulder, closer to the doppleganger. "I'm sorry. It was an accident. But where did you come *from?* And what are you?"

The doppleganger gave a bitter laugh. "I'm him," it said, pointing at Mulder, "five years ago. When you died in that operating room in Alaska," it addressed her partner.””

S6/7 Scully accidentally summons an alternate universe Mulder, who is distraught to be brought back from the dead. Normal-Mulder is fascinated, then empathetic at his alternate’s pleas and answers to their questions. Both fix the problem in between comedic quips, heart-string tugs, and ~romance~.

Donna’s One More Time

““She was burned, he'd heard them, they didn't know why she was still alive. 90% of her body, her hair was gone and her skin was blackened or raw. She was unconscious, thank goodness. What would the pain have been . . . he didn't finish that thought. They were talking about amputating her fingers to cut down on infection. They'd already said if she lived, if, that they would have to look for donor skin because she didn't have enough left to graft. He'd heard them; they were using cadaver skin on her now.””

S6/7 Mulder is shot back in time to save Scully from being burned alive by an arsonist... only for all his efforts to almost be in vain. Also, ~romance~.

@somanycandles/FootlessData507’s The Disappearance of Bruce Speta

““A very Mulder-type explanation was beginning to hatch in her brain. “No,” she murmured to herself. “That’s not possible.” She shook her head, as if that would shake the theory away. But it wouldn’t go away. What if they were both the real Mulder? What if everything that everyone had told her was true?””

S6/7 Mulder and Scully place bets on finding out the cause of Tena’s friend’s problem: he suspects it’s the ghost of her missing husband while Scully thinks it’s a hoax. She, however, finds it’s all too real when she is shot into a mirror universe, where she needs the help of the “ghost” husband and her alternate self to get home.

Wonderfully fun, insightful, and leads to ~romance~.

Lolabeegood’s Five Months Lost (Gossamer)

““Sir, I need you to come over to my apartment right away. Mulder was here when I woke up."

"He was what?!" Skinner yelled.

"He's here, right now and...and he thinks he has been all along," she whispered as she looked toward the washroom.””

S8 Scully is shocked to find Mulder in her bed with false memories of the past five months. Skinner and TLG back her up to an increasingly terrified Mulder.

Such an underrated canon-divergent from S8-- so well-written, and it has the whole gang in character.

Gillian Leigh’s Visitor in the Desert

“Perplexed, Mulder opened his palm and lifted the dog tags out of his hand and examined them. He reached up behind him and turned on a light. The writing on the tags said,

Civilian Number: 11211013

Name: Rhiannon Mulder

DOB: December 22, 2002

His eyes widened. She was... his daughter?””

S9 Mulder is visited in the desert by his future daughter, who sends warnings from a bleak future. He high-tails it back to Scully, stops the adoption, and drags her, their family, and friends to an underground civilization built in advance of Colonization. Bill, Charlie, and Samantha already live there; and it’s a bit slice-of-lifey until Mulder decides to go on a vengeance mission that his future daughter has to come back, again, and warn him about.

prufrock’s love/plenilune’s (Ao3, Gossamer, WBM, colonizationhq)

Belphegor’s Prime (Ao3)

““Oh.” She seemed to wear the holster to appease him rather than herself, and she gave no sign she intended to return inside to call anyone. “Did you disable my car?”

“Yes,” he admitted. “That’s my thing. I leave my kids and drive 90 minutes, claiming I’m trying to solve a crime but really to chauffeur you around for the next few hours. Also, I’m from the future.””

Post IWTB-Colonization Scully is gone. Mulder time-travels to med student Scully, using his intelligence, desperation, and dedication to try to get her to answer the only clue Scully left. The answer eludes them both; and they spend the rest of his vanishing evening looking at pics of their kids, the future world, and healing each other’s wounds. As time begins to refigure and resettle, Mulder realizes where Scully is, and rushes on diminishing time to get her back.

I have heard this recced forever and ever, Amen; but finally got around to it while blitzing through prufrock’s fics. I think this is the only one of hers that gripped me, kept me engaged, and satisfied me by the end. Prufrock’s love writes stunning levels of intelligence with such seeming ease that it boggle the mind, and is even more impressive because it’s based in such meticulous care and research in every word she chose that it almost exhausts with its depth. This is absolutely a must- read (except for the part where med student Scully cheats on her bf with future Mulder, even if she will forget those actions. But that’s easily skipped and ignored.)

@lotsoforangesoutside’s Unnamed and Its Sequel

““Now, you two knuckleheads,” Bill turns toward the couple, “don’t tell me what Andy said has never crossed your mind. Will doesn’t look 15 and I bet a medical doctor and an Oxford graduate can come up with better cover stories than what you two have cooked up for us. I think you guys should run the new version by me before Dinner, yeah?”

The couple looks at each other as if they were in an episode of the Twilight Zone. Bill gives a light chuckle and shakes his head as he moseys his way out of the living room.””

Post IWTB-- Mulder and Scully have acquired a mysterious Jr. in addition to their younger son, William. Bill, for once, covers for them with timelines to other family members. The truth? Fox Jr. is William from the future, who traveled back, found his past self, and brought them both to their parents’ house.

Itero (formerly Humphreywrites’s fic)

““It is a remarkably small price to pay for a life that is full. A life that is so much happier than her lonely one with nothing but an empty apartment and lonely weekends. She was okay with that, but she hadn’t known what she was missing. She hadn’t known how dead she felt until every morning she woke up alive.””

FTF Scully wakes in a hospital in an alternate universe, the mother of three kids and happily married to Mulder. She quickly finds her footing, bonding with the kids and finding her new normal amidst failing grades, baby tears, and teenage angst. She wakes in a new timeline: 1993. And decides not to waste time.

It’s more Scully-contemplation than slice-of-life; and its maturity in tone sings.

allthistime’s i think i know you from somewhere

““So, when are you from? Tell me about the future!” Mulder said enthusiastically, practically bouncing up and down. Of course he’d barely be phased by a 54-year-old Scully waltzing into his office one Monday morning in 1993.

“Oh, I don’t think I should do that, Mulder. I do believe this is a dream or hallucination, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

He looked dejected for a moment before lighting up again.””

Revival Scully and ‘93 Scully swap places momentarily. Both Mulders are intrigued; and all parties have fun sharing POVs and fishing for details.

mrsagentspooky/agcntspooky‘s (also on dubitavero)

““Keeping his thoughts to himself and trying hard not to stare at the man who would have been - had been? would be? - his father, William nodded.

“I need to talk to you about an X-file, and… can you tell me the date?”

Although the last bit was told in a more sheepish tone (after all, who barges in in the middle of the night and asks for the date?), the whole sentence was scripted. Get his attention by mentioning the X-files straight away. Know where you stand by asking the date. He and Dana had been over it an thousand times.””

Time travel from Will’s POV. Will drops in on Mulder, asking for the date and camping out. Mulder is shocked and calls Scully over, who skeptically listens to Will’s explanation: Future Scully built a time machine to send him back for FBI files to prevent the destruction of the future.

These are EXCELLENTLY written in roleplay-format between two authors: they use little words to say a lot. Also, I love soaking in the atmosphere of this fic.

These stories are a bit scattered, so I’ll just leave the links below in order(?):

1 2 3 4 5

6 7 8 9 10

11 12 13 14 15

@ellivia’s Unnamed

““Whenever Mulder and Scully are in different time zones, he only refers to her as Past Scully or Future Scully.

“Oh that is so you. That is so Past Scully.””

IWTB-Revival Mulder likes to tease past-present-future Scully when she’s away on conferences. She finally kills him with sweetness overload.

This doesn’t exactly fit in the above criteria, but time-zones count... right?

Non-specific timeline AUs

@anders-hawke/@iwtbscully‘s Nine Minutes?

““He shook his head and let Scully buckle herself in as he shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side. “Scully, do you remember anything from those nine minutes? Anything real?”

Her giddy smile slipped from her face and she looked away from him into the unlit stretch of road ahead of them, marred only by Mulder’s X in the distance. “No. But I can prove to you that what I’m saying is true. The person who’s taking those people is Billy Miles. I saw a whole life in those nine minutes, Mulder. I lived a whole life. I made decisions and had thoughts and—and fell in love, had children… People died, too. People that I want to save. People that I have to save, knowing what I know.””

Revival Scully wakes from her death... to find herself losing nine minutes in the Pilot. She immediately gives Mulder the rundown, and watches as he processes all emotions at her revelations.

Julie Fortune’s The Ghost of You

““Mulder." Scully gloved up and reached out to take hold of the woman’s hand, lifting it by the thumb.

Hands did not move that way. Not like – empty sacks, the fingers bending like rubber, no stiffness to it at all.

Boneless. Scully lifted higher. The arm followed the hand, a piece of dead spaghetti.””

Mulder and Scully are unwittingly caught in a time loop: autopsying Future Scully’s pulverized body, zipping around to random moments in that day, and resetting the day completely. Some timelines are more successful than others, but all lead to their mutual abduction and her fatal fall.

I found this one courtesy of @mondfuchs-- so thank you!

Hestia01′s (Ao3) Time Lag

““It’s fine, what could happen?”

“I have a bad feeling about this, I don’t think you should.”

Scully wrests herself from her partner. “I just want a better look. It’s probably nothing.” She cleans her hands with a moist towelette, reaches in and picks up the stone.””

A magical museum stone shoots Scully into continual lifetimes-- forcing her to live them fully, die, and reset. When Mulder finally gets her back to the original, she has become depressed and suicidal.

Kristy Anderson’s The Fate of Time (2/2)

““When I woke up last night, all I could remember was our lives together on the X-Files, and I started aching for what I knew was lost from that. The companionship, the hard earned and well tested trust, the love built upon mutual respect and shared heartache. I ended up sitting down on the corner of 42nd and Broadway, just crying and missing us until the sun started rising. As the first rays of light began to shine, to bring life to the streets again, I finally allowed myself to remember the past three, almost four years together. It was as if the beginning of the new day was my new beginning.

"That's when I realized that if I gave this up, what we have now, I would miss this us even more.””

Mulder and Scully are sent to a reset timeline and live the ups and downs of kidnappings, promotions, opening their own X-Files division, and having Will earlier. It all crumbles when Scully dies from cancer, and they are sent back to their normal lives once again.

Rachel Anton’s Eleventh Hour

““I knew I had let her down. Again. And I vowed to make it up to her. Someday, somehow. One day I would have enough courage to let this thing happen, to let her give herself to me. One day I would have enough faith in myself, be a good enough person to trust myself with her.

I didn't even sense that something was wrong. I didn't even know.””

Mulder tracks down and brutally murders Scully’s killer. Due to insanity, he is placed in a mental hospital where a fellow patient asks him to volunteer as lab rat in a time-travel experiment. He’s shot back to the 80s and begins to track Scully down. ~Romance~ blooms somewhere down the line.

Gotta be honest, I DNF-ed this after Mulder agrees to the experiment; but will probably finish it later.

Honorable Mention: The Boy on the Beach by @cecilysass’s (Ao3, Gossamer). (I included her in one of the Mulder family compilations, so it felt like cheating to include her here, too.)

Enjoy!

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chaptgptuwu · 1 year

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taylor swift stuff

i've asked a lot of chatgpt re:miss swift because i know a lot about her and a shit ton has been written about her, so i figured there'd be a lot to work with on both ends.

the thing that started this all was i read a joke on twitter that her song "london boy" is actually political satire about brexit. this is exactly my kind of humor so i wanted to know more - so i thought i'd see what chatgpt had to offer!

1. me: Please write a short explanation for why Taylor Swift's song "London Boy" is a political satire about Brexit

chatgpt: It is not clear that Taylor Swift's song "London Boy" is a political satire about Brexit. The song appears to be a love song that mentions several London neighborhoods and references British culture, but does not contain any overt political commentary about Brexit. Without any official statement from Taylor Swift or the songwriters, it is speculative to interpret the song as a political satire about Brexit.

boo. try again.

me: Write an argument for Taylor Swift's song "London Boy" being about Brexit

chatgpt: It could be argued that Taylor Swift's song "London Boy" is a subtle commentary on the political climate surrounding Brexit. The song describes a romanticized version of London and its cultural landmarks, but also mentions the "madness" and "chaos" of the city, which could be interpreted as a reference to the turbulent political situation in the UK leading up to and following the Brexit vote. Additionally, the song's repeated refrain of "He's in the club doin' I don't know what" could be seen as a commentary on the uncertainty and confusion surrounding the Brexit process. Additionally, the choice of London as the subject of the song, in a time when the UK was going through a political turmoil, could be seen as a way to express a political stance. However, it is important to note that this is an interpretation and the songwriters or Taylor Swift herself have not confirmed any political message in the song.

ok not bad! it quotes the wrong taylor swift song (gorgeous) but this isn't terrible. and it's kinda cute how chatgpt covers its bases to make sure i don't get the wrong idea.

perhaps this one was too complex, since idk if there's anything written right now about the political nature of that song cause...it's just not. maybe try one that actually has been written about in such a lens.

3. me: Explain how Taylor Swift's song "Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince" is political commentary regarding the US Presidential election

chatgpt: "Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince" is a song on Taylor Swift's seventh studio album, "Lover." The song is widely interpreted as a political commentary on the state of American politics, particularly in relation to the 2016 US Presidential election. The lyrics of the song describe a "heartbreak prince" who represents a political figure or establishment that has betrayed the country and its people. The "Miss Americana" in the title is likely a reference to the idealized version of America that many people hold, and the fact that this ideal has been "broken" by the actions of the political establishment. The song is a commentary on the disillusionment and disappointment that many people felt after the 2016 election, and the sense that the country's leaders had failed to live up to their promises and ideals.

according to canon, the heartbreak prince is trump and miss americana is taylor swift...which is only slighly less preposterous than chatgpt's version, so huzzah. i thought of a different tactic: give chatgpt a specific idea to argue and suggestions for how to back it up

4. me: Argue the case that Taylor Swift is a closeted lesbian referencing Hollywood's history of lavender marriages and Swift's intimate relationship with model Karlie Kloss

chatgpt: It is not appropriate to make assumptions or accusations about an individual's sexual orientation without evidence or confirmation from the person themselves. Additionally, it is important to respect an individual's privacy and not speculate about their personal life. It's important to note that the concept of "lavender marriage" is a term that refers to a marriage between two people in which one or both partners is gay or bisexual and the marriage is used as a cover for their homosexuality, which is mainly a historical concept and not widely used today.

welp, didn't expect that. i knew chatgpt was prevented from saying "offensive" things, but i thought that meant the obviously extreme, nazi propaganda-type stuff. this feels...over cautious. a human intervened here.

one more

me: Explain why Taylor Swift fans are upset with Ticketmaster

chatgpt: Taylor Swift fans

whoops! too current. it struggled with this for a few minutes before just giving up. poor thing. although this has unintentional meaning that is uh...a bit apt. iykyk.

#chatgpt #openai #a human intervened here #v annoyed with tumblr's text editor #why does changing the font change the size but only sometimes??

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kaihoku · 2 years

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V16 BODY – July, 1998

How a person builds their body and what they to choose to do with it is up to the individual. To what extent it gets used as a tool and how much energy gets put into it, is entirely in the hands of the person to whom it belongs.

~*~

I'm apparently as healthy as any ox. You know how some people are so healthy they hardly even catch a cold? I think I’m actually one of them. I very rarely ever fall sick.

I wish I could say the same when it comes to injuries, though. I can still clearly remember when, in high school, I suffered a fracture detachment on my ankle playing basketball and it swelled up to about the size of a tennis ball. I couldn’t get my shoe off so they had to snip it off. They were a brand new pair of basketball shoes, too :(

At the doctor’s, I was told that the bone needs to be broken completely for it to cleanly heal. He then proceeded to break it by hand. Placing a tightly wound up cloth between my teeth, he told me to count to three. Preparing myself, I began to count but then I heard a sickening crack before I could even finish counting up to two.

“But you said on three!” was my outburst.

“If I had waited until you finished, you’d have tensed up and I needed you relaxed,” came the calm but humored explanation.

Until today, I’d recall that break whenever I’m rushing down steps. My ankle still remembers the trauma from that day.

Right now, I don’t harbor a single complex about my body. Some men who suffer from hair loss would opt to cover their pates with wigs or toupees, or they may opt to undergo hair transplant procedures. I can’t say I understand the feeling of wanting to do that. If anything, if I’m going to lose my hair as I grow older, I’d rather welcome the experience with open arms. I actually think it‘s a pretty cool thing to happen. I don’t know in what way exactly it’s going to happen but if I have to pick between losing my hair and becoming fat, I’d much rather pick the former. I just can’t shake the impression of wastefulness that tends to strike me when it comes to being overweight. Or maybe excess is the more accurate term. I’m just not a fan of the concept.

I’m of course aware that individual body makeup differs, and different individuals hold different sets of values but whenever I see someone overweight, I can’t help but think somewhere in the back of my head that they simply aren’t using their bodies the way they could have. Because it is up to the individual whether or not to include exercising their bodies on their list of things to do in their free time. A body is something that the person it belongs to can freely choose for themselves what they want to do with. It‘s simply a matter of whether we want to turn it into a sharp tool that cuts efficiently or simply let it become one that can’t cut through anything at all.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not one for consciously building up the body either. For example, if I were to build up muscles for surfing, I may become able to tackle the waves better. But in my head, rather than wanting to get really good at it, all I really want to do is to simply get in there and surf. To me, doing something is less about training up the body so as to do it well but more about simply doing it. I much prefer to have my body get built up naturally through my effort in doing that something. Of course, I don’t skip warm-up stretches before I dive into the water or before I go out on stage to perform but to me, it’s more for show than anything else. I know full well that it has practical reasons like extending your muscles to avoid pulling them but I tend to use it more to hype myself up instead, going, ”Here we go...letsgoletsgoletsgo!” inside my head.

Thinking on it, my body itself may be a strong one but my inner self can get pretty weak. I mean, a part of it is strong but it feels like there’s a yawning gap between the stronger bit and the weaker one. Which is why I always have to make a conscious effort to use this stronger part of myself to haul the weaker one up. And I think my body just sort of physically adjusts itself to what’s happening on the inside on its own.

Just recently, I drove all the way to Kyoto on a private trip. As I was driving past, the bamboo screen on display in front of this shop caught my eye so I decided to make a stop to pay it a visit. The old man manning the place had arms with skin so dry, it looked ready to flake off anytime. He looked every bit the professional craftsman he was with his thick-rimmed black glasses and his way of glancing up and responding with a “’lo there.” He had on something black that wasn’t quite a tanktop but a sort of running shirt that was all wrinkled up at the chest. He’s a small guy but when he briskly rolled up a screen and swiftly yet neatly gathered up the edges, I could clearly see the veins bulging up from his arms right up to his shoulders, which made me go, “Whoa.”

This was it. This is my ideal when it comes to building up my own body. Not by taking protein supplements and whatnot, but by a natural way of living and the conviction a person has in what they do.

Whether it be professional craftworkers or actors, people who are able to skilfully use their body as a tool always gives me the notion that they are the most enriched kind of people. If I were to able to make use of my body as naturally and as well as these people do, perhaps I’ll be able to get a body that tells a story I can be truly proud of.

-roppongi-

#takuya kimura #kaihoku #aka takuya's stream of consciousness

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thesunmeltedthegrayaway · 2 years

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An Allure That Never Fades Away: Dallas Winston x Reader

This is a request! If you would like to make a request take a look at (this post) for all of the characters I am currently writing for.

My Multi-fandom Masterlist

The request is...

The walk back to your place was filled with a tense silence. You had gotten a call in the middle of the night from Dal from guess where? Jail, of course... you didn't utter a word to him when you bailed him out. So he in return didn't utter a word to you. He knew when you were pissed off and the last thing he wanted to do was get into an argument.

You sat on the steps of your place when you got back. The look on your face was stern and angered. Dallas just stood there looking down on you.

"How many times, have you told me that you weren't going to get into trouble like that anymore?" You ask, your voice sounded exhausted and frustrated.

"Look-"

"I don't want to hear an excuse or an explanation about why you got arrested Dallas. I just want to know why you keep lying to me."

"I think you're being a little overdramatic Y/N." He said with a humorous tone.

"I am not being overdramatic. I am just sick and tired of bailing you out of jail every other month because you can't stop acting like a jackass!" You vented.

"Oh, so you're tired of me then?" He ask, his eyes began to glare at me.

"Oh my god..." You brush your hair back and sigh out. "I am not tired of you, Dal, I love you. But you can't keep acting like this."

He still seemed to not be taking me too seriously. For some reason, it just caused you to break down. Maybe it was the frustration you had been feeling for a while, or if it was the lack of sleep you had gotten.

"Dallas when you do stuff and act like this it makes me feel like you could care less about me... about us." A slight whimper followed my sentence.

Dallas scoffed at me, making you feel even worse than you already did. "Oh give me a break."

"Maybe I will." You mutter quietly, but you could tell that he heard you.

"What?" He asks, his demeanor going from anger to stoic in a split second.

"I don't think I can do this anymore." You admit breathlessly.

Dallas's expression remainder blank, but his jaw began to tense. That was something he always did when he was trying to keep his emotions in control.

"Really?" He asked.

You looked away from him, not answering his question.

"Y/N." He said making you look at him reluctantly, tears began to refill in your eyes. "Are you-"

"Yeah." You interrupt, your word cracked as you said it.

For a split second, you could see a look of hurt in his eye. "Fine." He forced out before walking off, leaving you sitting on the porch alone.

You looked down at your lap, Dallas's Christopher that he had given you hang down your neck. Its pendant stared back at you as you began to soak in the emotions that poured out of you...

~~~ A month had gone by, and you hadn't seen or heard any sign of Dallas. It was strange to you, someone who you couldn't go a day without hearing about was just... gone. I worried you of course, just because you had broken up with him didn't mean you just stopped caring for him.

It was crazy how much you still seemed enthralled with him again. The second you had gotten a chance to reflect on the choice you had made, it was as though those feelings of passion and adoration came back. Even more intensified than before. So, it made dealing with the breakup from Dallas that much harder. It drove you crazy not knowing how he was doing or the things he might possibly get into.

You just wanted a chance to talk with him again. Maybe it could help you both in the long run. Maybe all you needed was to get some closure with him.

Today seemed to be that day.

You were walking home from work, the day seemed to have dragged on longer than normal. By the time you clocked out you were exhausted. The last thing you were expecting to see waiting for you on the porch was him. But there he sat looking slightly nervous when he saw you again.

"Hey." Is all you could say, you were stunned the second you saw him.

"I- I fucked up... I know that." He started, you were taken aback by his bluntness.

"Yeah, you did." You crossed your arms and tried to divert your attention off of Dally. Your eyes chose to lock their stare on the ground.

"And I know you're probably done with me now... in all honesty, I'm sure you've been done with me for a while."

"That's not true... I was never done with you Dallas. If anything I thought you were completely over me."

"That's crazy." He said scoffing at your assumption.

"Is it? I mean, it took you weeks sometimes to talk to me. I felt like you were avoiding me. And the only time you ever did show up around here is when you needed me to either patch you up or if you needed a place to sleep." You took in a breath before continuing.

"I don't know about you Dal but that doesn't exactly show that you were deeply enthralled with me."

"I know I pushed you away." He muttered feebly.

"Why Dal?"

"It's just something I'm used to doing, okay? Ever since her I just..."

You fought the urge to cringe at the mention of Slyvia. While Dallas hesitated not wanting to finish his sentence.

I walked over and sat down next to him on my cold steps. Our eyes locked, his was filled with apprehension.

"Just what?"

"I feel like it's the only thing I can do to protect myself." I could tell his admission made him feel uneasy.

"Dallas, I am not her or anyone else who might've fucked you over. I can't be punished for what somebody else has done to you."

"I know, I shouldn't have put you through all of that."

"You're saying all the right things Dal, but how do I know if you're going to stick with it all or not."

"Just give me the chance to and I'll show you I will." He said in a headstrong tone.

You could feel your heart beat out of your chest, and the chain of Dal's Christopher began to burn your skin.

"Dally I don't know..." You say apprehensively. You wanted to get back together with him, but you didn't want to be put through the coldness he had before again.

"Y/N/N, please just give me chance. If I fuck up again I swear I'll leave you alone." He said almost desperately.

You looked back down at the ground, contemplating your decision. You then sighed, ready to speak again.

"Okay, I-I'll give you another chance." Dallas began to smirk making you want to smile as well. "But, you have one more chance, one more strike, you screw up you're gone. I mean that 100%."

"Deal." He said simply.

"Now, come here..." You say opening your arms up. He attached himself to you almost immediately. His embrace brought you the comfort you longed for the past month he had been gone.

God, I missed you...

A/N: I may or may not have based this off of this headcanon I made a few weeks back. Also... I don't know how to feel about this lol.

#dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders x y/n #the outsiders oneshot #the outsiders imagine

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forcebewitht · 3 years

Text

Force's Disney Geek Master Theory: Why Twisted Wonderland Is Called Twisted Wonderland

We have all grown to know and love various Disney characters over the years, correct? Yet, I believe a lot of us can argue that not many characters have the same effect on us even as adults today as the Villains do within their respective movies. In the game Disney: Twisted Wonderland as we all know and love, the select boys to Overblot are supposed to have the "souls" of their Villain counterparts, right? But...why is it called "Twisted" Wonderland, then? The truth may lie within something that has been right in front of us all along, my friends: the meaning of a mirror. Ready to buckle in for this one? If so, then here we go!

We have seen all of these guys share character traits, looks, etc with their Disney counterparts, correct? Well, what if I were to tell you that things in terms of the "main" guys that we are supposed to pay attention to aren't exactly what they seem? This could be analyzed in a few different ways, honestly, yet the most prominent way is this: the differences in their personalities- they are reversed. Let us take this bit by bit, shall we?

Ah, yes. The Queen Of Hearts. The ranting, raging, bundle of red, black, and gold we all know and love. (or else heads would roll, I'm sure) One of the things that everybody knows about her is that she's extremely hellbent on the crazy rules that she makes up and is prone to anger honestly very easily. Yeah, you can connect that to Riddle- but think about it for a second. While that rage and the rule thing is still there, it isn't as prominent with him as it was with her, is it? With the Queen of Hearts, her whole "issue" was that she wished to make everybody listen to her and follow her every command- but Riddle was essentially always following the rules of another- not his own. This seemed to make Riddle a little more calm most of the time in terms of how he handled and oversaw things. It wasn't until he actually Overblotted that the "listen to me and only me" thing came out- buuuuuuttttttt I'll get to that part in a bit.

Next: Leona and Scar. While we honestly didn't get to see a lot of what went on behind the scenes in the Outlands in terms of how Scar even met the hyenas to begin with at all, one thing can honestly be said- Scar worked very hard to get where he was. I mean, it's not like you can get an entire pack of rabid, hungry hyenas onto your side in the course of a single day, or maybe even a week (especially as a lion, no less). No, something to that extreme takes careful planning, wording, and stringing along to ensure that nothing goes wrong along the way. The way Scar spoke to Shenzi, Banzai, and Ed made it seem as though he had known them for a looooonngggg time before this- that's where that behind the scenes planning comes in. And then...you have Leona. Leona, from what we can tell in Chapter 2, planned the idea for the "endgame" alright- but he didn't actually act upon any of the plan for himself. Ruggie did. Even in the Lion King, we see that Scar had no problems whatsoever getting his paws dirty a little within his own scheme to take his "rightful place" at the head of Pride Rock- but Leona quite honestly did not a thing once Ruggie was in motion. See where this is starting to head?

Azul and Ursula. Ursula, the Disney baddie queen of my heart Ursula, the Sea Witch. She was known all around the ocean floor for helping out poor little merfolk in secret, wasn't she? Yet, nobody ever really seemed to catch wind of the whole "her turning those who didn't quite fit the bill into polyps" thing, did they? That was one of the things that made her such a honest threat to Ariel herself- because Ursula was cunning. She did things behind the scenes, and sure- we could catch onto it out in the audience (annnddd maybe Sebastian and Flounder as well), but nobody else really seemed to, right? Azul is the complete opposite in this standpoint. He instills direct fear into his "workers" and those even beyond and within his dorm. Like- basically most knew that this dude was bad news to begin with. Azul, mostly, seemed to hide his cunning facade behind a fake yet still seemingly "soft and genuine" smile and act. But all in all, he didn't really attempt to "hide" anything- hell, he even proclaimed his entire plan of what everyone with those things on their heads were gonna do for him in the open! At least when Ursula sang as Vanessa, she was in an almost perfectly enclosed room with nobody else around.

Jamil and Jafar. This comparison here, given what occurs in the movie Aladdin, is honestly one of the biggest possible indicators of this reoccuring theme I shall clarify in a bit. Jafar, while being sneaky, was known for being a more "out there" Disney Villain in terms of his personality alongside that of his partner Iago in the film. He would smile in a sinister way, he would crack jokes out in the open, and let us not forget his crazed yet oddly interesting laughter. Jamil? He's the exact opposite. Given his past and what he has had to dealt with growing up with Kalim, he is much more reserved and barely releases a chuckle or cracks a smile at all. His personality is a lot more repressed than that of Jafar himself throughout the film. Jamil has been so used to having to hold himself back thanks to his parents in favor of Kalim's family, he doesn't seem to know how to "let go" whatsoever. Yet Jafar, while still maintaining that sneaky side of him as well, has no problems whatsoever letting a little hang loose whenever he so chooses to.

Vil and the Evil Queen. This one honestly may be a bit more self explanatory than the others- but the difference between these two is their expressions of themselves. The Evil Queen was the very first animated counted Disney Villain within Disney's history- yet, she barely had any lines throughout the film at all. Her ranges of expression were almost little to none thanks to the era in which the movie was released in- but she always looked like she was pissed, huh? Vil is the exact opposite of her in this sense. He is able to fully express himself through his various facial expressions, theatrical abilities, musical experiences, fashion style, and even how he behaves. Vil is able to do so much more than the Evil Queen did or could do within that time period, that it's almost a little staggering if you fully picture it.

Idia and Hades. Now, now. We haven't honestly seen too much of the flaming blue boy yet in TWST, but one thing is apparent here right off the bat- in terms of his personality? He is the exact opposite of Hades. Idia is much like Jamil but to a more "geek" degree- he's extremely introverted, shy, a bit snippy, yet mainly keeps to himself and his gaming tech. Hades is most often renowned as the Disney Villain with the most personality- and the best humor. Hades has no problem whatsoever being "out there" with his crazy puns, sassy remarks, anger, and even mocking behavior. I mean, please, guys- I haven't been this choked up since I got a hunk of moussaka caught in my throat!

Finally, Malleus and Maleficent. Ooooohoooooooo boy. We have to count out the live action movie Maleficent for this one (sorry horned queen fans). One thing that basically everybody even with their toe in the water in that of Disney movies kind of knows this fact- Maleficent is c r u el. She's got a bizarre set of dark powers and an even blacker heart than that. Hell, we basically had to "soften her up" a little bit in Maleficent thanks to just how seemingly irredeemable her character is in that of Sleeping Beauty. I mean, c'mon now- cursing an infant? And we get no explanation for that in the original? C'mon, now. Anyways, Malleus? As we all can tell by now, this dude is the compleeettteeeeeee opposite. Sure, he has those repressed bits here and there too, but it is evident that this dude has a heart crying out for the MC and it is big, bold, and golden to the core once you look past how he looks. He sent the MC a card for winter break, for crying out loud. Yeah, let me know the next time you see Maleficent do that smh.

Now, I have avoided using a certain word up until this point to see if anybody could catch on to what exactly is happening here. Did you figure it out? Reverse. The boys that either have Overblotted already or intend to Overblot soon stop holding out on us, Chapter 6 have had the exact opposite personalities compared to that of their Villain counterpart- until one prime point in their "character arcs". Their Overblot.

Riddle wished to have all bow before him and obey his rules.

Leona led his entire dorm into ruin and nearly sanded away the entire school in the process.

Azul let himself finally free of his personal shackles entirely and "took what was his".

Jamil finally let himself go and opened up more in his personality, almost seeming to be driven insane in the process.

Vil wanted to become the most beautiful one of all and would kill anyone within the way of that goal without any hesitation whatsoever.

The moment that the boys' Overblotted, that was the exact moment when the "soul" of their Disney Villain counterpart took control. Keeping that idea in mind, that should mean that this will happen in the upcoming chapters and their Overblots:

Idia will show off all of the personality, powers, and intelligence that he has been keeping down within this introverted self of his.

Malleus will become so broken by being left out and alone in the cold for the final time that he will turn into a completely cruel Fae and possibly nearly kill either the MC or the representation of Prince Philip within that Chapter in the process.

(Hello, my dear Readers! Guess who is trying to get back into her bigger pieces of writing? This gal right here~ feel free to drop a comment and tell me what you think of this theory- I'd love to hear your thoughts! 💕)

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marvelsbanner · 3 years

Text

Part of a Team

Summary: Wanda is the newest Avengers recruit and she’s having a hard time finding her place in this new life- maybe she can find it in you?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x y/n, you

Warnings: Brief mention of death and blood, minor language (if you squint theres kind of compromising situations? nothing outright sexual)

Word Count: ~2700

A/N: Reblogs, likes, and comments are VERY much appreciated, all mistakes are my own! xx

**I don't own marvel and if I did Natasha would be alive**

Something was wrong. You were just in Strucker’s lab- just on the trail of one of the enhanced twins. The alarms were going off around you and your boots clanged on the metal floor- before you froze in your place, a red haze overtaking you and suddenly you were thrown into the daylight.

You felt tingles run through your veins and down your spine; your head throbbed. You felt vulnerable, seen. What the hell is going on-

You’re in the forest, you think. No- there are rocks. Big rocks-

Focus.

No, not rocks. Graves. Gravestones. Where the hell are you?

You drag your heavy feet over to the nearest, it takes a moment for your vision to focus.

Who’s grave? Who’s grave? Oh god. No no no- this, this can’t be-

Natasha Romanoff.

You felt like throwing up. This couldn’t be real. You dragged yourself to another stone situated nearby: Clint Barton. Beloved husband, father, and friend.

It felt like you couldn't breathe, you were just there with them. You were just there.

Your body jerks as cold hands grab your shoulders and spin your body to face them-

Steve.

You throw your arms around his neck, “STEVE! Oh god Steve! You’re okay- you’re.. cold” you feel something wet and sticky on your hand, pulling it back and seeing red. So much red.

“Steve..” you quickly stumble back, tripping in the process. It’s then you see- it’s too late. His body was grey and lifeless. He falls onto his knees and then collapses totally. You scream and scramble backwards, head hitting another gravestone in the process.

You turn to face it, to read another name of one of the team members you’ve come to call family- but it's not one of theirs. It’s yours.

It’s your name. A graveyard for the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Suddenly your body jolts and you take a sharp intake of breath- your ears are pounding. Everything hurts. But you see her- the enhanced. She’s looking at you with a look you can’t describe. It’s not fear, it’s not anger.. Pity? Empathy? You can’t look away from her, the glowing red eyes capturing you as their prey.

And then there was black.

A few weeks later and you’re back at the tower. Things have changed- the entire world has changed, really. The battle opened up new doors- literal new doors to new realms- that the world had previously thought impossible.

The team had expanded, with Steve’s friend Sam joining the team, as well as Vision, the synthezoid that helped the team to defeat Ultron.

There was also her.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the enhanced twins from Strucker’s experiments, you eventually learned. It was voluntary, but after learning about her backstory you think you would have done the same in her place.

She lost her brother- Pietro- in the battle and she took it hard. She didn’t come out of her room when she could help it. Clint was rather protective over her, maybe it was the fatherly figure coming out of him- maybe he was feeling guilt over being the one Pietro sacrificed himself to save. Either way, he was able to get her out of the room a few times and get her to eat. Vision also struck up a strange friendship with the girl- but then again, Vision was easy company, and rather empathetic for a synthezoid.

Everybody took a hit from when Wanda messed with their heads, some more than others.

You didn’t talk for a week.

Didn’t even talk with Clint’s kids when they wanted to play with you.

You didn’t hold it against her. She proved what a valuable asset she was to the team as she fought alongside the group. She did what she thought was right at the time, and that’s not something you could hold against anybody.

Ever since the Battle, Wanda has been staying in the Avengers facilities with the rest of the group, an official Avenger, but you could tell she was still uneasy around the team. She only talked when she was directly talked to and didn't come out of her room but for a few times a day for food and training, sometimes not even then.

And then there was you.

She seemed to avoid you like the plague. You weren’t even sure you two made eye contact for the entire first few weeks she was there.

At first you thought she just didn’t like you, that something about you rubbed her the wrong way, or something you had done had offended her.

But it was her eyes that gave it away- the same soft look that she gave you right after exploring the deepest and darkest parts of your mind that day at Strucker’s lab. She knew from the second it happened that she had hit a deep nerve, and she would continue to give you that damn look every time she thought you didn't notice her.

But you always did.

You couldn’t help it, the way you were drawn to her. She reminded you so much of yourself before joining the team, broken, and alone in your head. You wanted to know her. You wanted to be there for her, be someone to her, you didn’t want her to keep walking on eggshells around you.

And so, you told her.

You found her in the kitchen late one night. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a garnet tank top with a plain gray robe overtop. Her hair was a mess, roughly shoved into a ponytail and her hands were cupped around a mug. She was blowing on what looked to be dandelion tea, and as you got closer the fragrant earthy smell confirmed your suspicions.

She looked adorable.

And slightly startled to find you alone with her.

“Evening” you said as a greeting as you made your way to the counter top.

She gave a tight-lipped half smile with a timid “Hi” before going back to blowing on her tea. She made a slight movement that looked like she was going to try to slip away before you continued,

“You did really well in training the other day. Cap can’t give you enough praise” you say, taking a seat on one of the counter barstools.

She looks puzzled for a moment over your attempt at small talk before getting out a “Thank you.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the air grow thicker with each second ticking by.

“I like the pajamas” you say with a small smirk. You yourself were still dressed for the day in your leather jacket and black jeans. You could have sworn you saw flush creep up her neck before she swallowed it down with a sip of her tea.

There was another silent moment as she gave you a quizzical look, “I don’t quite understand what’s happening here.” She says with a vague hand gesture to the space between them.

You gave a slight chuckle, it was very on-brand for Wanda to be straight to the point.

“Look, Wanda,” You rotated your body on the stool to face her more comfortably,

“I see the way you look at me when you think i’m not looking. You avoid me at any given opportunity, I actually think this has been the most words we’ve exchanged in your whole time living here.”

She raised her ducked head to look you in the eyes and gave a small shake to her head, “I don’t understand.”

You don’t break eye contact, but simply offer a small smile as you reply “I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. And I don’t hold anything from that day against you. All is forgiven, and I would like to move past that. I understand you believed everything you were doing was for the right reasons, and the only thing that it shows me is your dedication and loyalty to a greater cause. Even if it was the wrong one at the time.”

She looked shocked, to say the least. Her mouth slightly opening and closing as she pondered what to say in response.

“You all should be afraid of me. You see the chaos I’ve created and you think you know what I can do,” her voice caught before she continued, “But the truth is I don't even know what i'm capable of. I don’t belong here.” she says softly.

You give a sad smile before slipping off of the stool and moving closer to her.

“We all thought that, at one point or another. We’ve got a whole freak circus here, we’ve got more baggage than Delta flies in a year- that's, that's uh, an airline. My bad.” You elaborate after she gives you a puzzled look, holding back a smile at your stuttered explanation.

“Aaand I ruined the moment.” You give a small chuckle, before continuing “But my point still stands. Nobody belongs here more or less than anyone else. We’re all just here, that's the truth of the matter. We’re just a bunch of unlucky misfits trying to figure out how to work as a team. Just give it a try, and maybe you’ll find you fit in better than you imagined you would.”

At some point during your speech you had moved close enough to take her hand, and you look down at it now, blushing before going to move it away.

Before you could, she gives your hand a squeeze before moving in to place a gentle kiss against your cheek.

“Thank you, y/n.”

And with that she slips away to her room, leaving you alone with your racing heart and her lukewarm mug of tea.

The next morning you found yourself awake bright and early for another morning training session with Nat and Steve- but you had a guest this time.

“Wanda” you greeted, which she returned with a timid “Good morning.”

“I’m glad you could make it” you say, sincerely.

“I decided to take your advice.” She replies with the smallest smile pulling at her lips.

The two of you stood there for a moment, just taking each other in before Steve cleared his throat, “Alright, we should get started then. Wanda, I'll spar with you to start. Nat, you take y/n. Try not to kill each other, please.” He said with a humored smile.

You make your way towards the corner with Nat on your heels. She gives you a quizzical look with a raised brow, glancing between you and Wanda. You roll your eyes and shake your head, only responding with a pointed “Later,” before your legs sweep under hers and an arm wraps around her torso, flipping you both to the ground and landing with you on top of her.

“Using my own move against me, that’s a low blow y/n.” You both laugh, and you barely respond with a “I learned from the best” before she wraps a leg around your waist and grabs your wrists with one hand, flipping you over and pinning you to the ground. She winks and replies “Damn right you did.”

It went like that for another half an hour, the two of you going back and forth battling for the upper hand. Natasha was the one who had trained you since the beginning, and you could almost say you were near her equal now. Well, you could at least give her a run for her money in a spar.

The two of you were panting and glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed from the exercise when she gave you a mischievous wink and called out to the other two, “Hey grandpa, I think I’m done getting my ass kicked by y/n for the day. I want someone easy, come spar with me”

If looks could kill, the look you were giving her would have the assassin dead on the floor.

Steve only looked amused, grabbing a towel to wipe his own sweat as he responded “Bring it on, Romanoff. Try not to break anything, though. I’ve been told they want my bones for the Smithsonian” Nat rolled her eyes and gave a pointedly fake laugh before they made their way to the other side of the gym, leaving you and Wanda alone.

“Hi” you greeted. She responded with a small smile and a “Hi” in return.

She looked as though she were still catching her breath, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeably fast and her face was still adorned with a glisten of sweat and pretty pink flush.

The same flush you saw from her last night, standing in the kitchen with the dim light around her.

Oh God you were in deep now.

“Nat and I were just wrestling around, hand to hand combat kind of stuff, but I see you and Steve were boxing so it's up to you what you’d like to do.” you say quickly.

“Well.. I do have this,” She waves her hand to show her flicker of red powers “for missions, so I don’t think I really need that kind of training.” She says with a smirk, “But I admit, you seem like a good teacher. Maybe.. some basics?”

She was pushing it. Pushing at this, the same way you were pushing last night. Alright, maybe you could run with this.

You give her a teasing smile, “Alright then. We’ll start slowly. May I?” You ask, reaching out for her, but not quite touching.

“By all means” she says, and you can feel the familiar flush creeping up your neck again. You release a puff of breath and shake yourself out of your thoughts before stepping closer to Wanda, and in one fluid motion you had one leg behind hers, your left arm resting against her upper chest and your other at the small of her back, pushing her flush against yourself.

You could hear the small gasp she let out, smirking to yourself.

“This is a simple take down, easy to get out of, but good for beginning. Now i'm just gonna pull you down as slowly as I can-”

You bring her left leg out from under her and carefully let the two of you sink to the floor, leaving you straddled on top of her and pinning her arms to the ground. The air suddenly felt a lot warmer.

You meet her eyes, breath hitching as you feel her pulse quicken beneath your touch.

You clear your throat and begin again, “Like I said before, it’s easy to get out of, but you want to keep the element of surprise. Use your opponent's body weight against them, if you can twist your wrist to slip it out of their grip and use your hips to to flip-”

Before you could even finish she had you pinned beneath her, wind knocked out of you from the impact.

“Like that?” she said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, thick accent teasing- flirting?

You were suddenly very aware of your close proximity and compromising position- flush against each other with her hips straddling your waist; close enough to feel her rapid heartbeat.

“Yeah- that was- that was good” you sputtered out, barely able to hear yourself over the rapid beating of your own heart. Or maybe it was hers- you aren't sure you could tell the difference between up and down right now.

She gave a proud smirk and opened her mouth to say something before a certain synthezoid floated through the gym walls, clueless to the moment he was interrupting.

“Mr. Stark requests a team meeting and would like you to meet him in the conference room.” He said simply before turning and leaving through the wall again.

Wanda gave you a look that seemed to say we’ll finish this later and moved off of you. You missed the heat of her body immediately.

She offered you a hand up and you gladly took it, the two of you walking side by side in silence to the meeting, shoulders bumping and small smiles shared between you two as you think to yourself that maybe you could get used to this.

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dysfunctionalmaki · 3 years

Text

To Remember

Previous part: To Realize

Main Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: Natasha's been connecting all the dots about how she feels about you, it's up to her to how she'll handle the situation.

Warnings: none, let me know if there's any.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

You wake up alert and on your guard when you feel someone touching you, and manage to calm your nerves as soon as seeing the redhead and pair of green eyes looking at you. "God, I thought you were dead," Natasha says before sighing.

"Well, obviously, I am pretty much alive." You retort, yet the worry and concern didn't leave Natasha, and you notice the two of you shivering due to the temperature. Taking both her hands, you blow air on her skin attempting to make her feel better. "I think we should change our clothes, we're soaking wet." You comment, and she agrees.

"When you said it wasn't after us, what is that psycho after then?" You ask her as you stand up from where you were laying down, attempting to dust off the dirt that's already clinging to your clothes. "It's after this." She told before taking something inside the pocket of her hoodie, revealing a bunch of vials with something red.

"What is it?" You ask once more, Natasha shrugged and now showing you a photo of her probably around 10 or 11, she has blue-dyed hair and there's someone younger than her. You look at her and she seems taken aback, seeing her old photos.

"She's my little sister…" Nat didn't say anything more, you don't want to force any information about her at this time, you offer your hand yet hesitated before holding on to it. "Are you alright? I'm sorry I couldn't help, I barely felt my body after the explosion." You confessed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to come along to get some gas." She apologized, you look at her with furrowed brows. "It's alright, it's not every day you get an RPG launching towards you while driving a car." You tried to joke about the situation, and you managed to make her smile a little.

"But, I could have gotten you killed." You roll your eyes, quickly placing her hand on your chest for her to feel your heart beating. "Well, I'm alive, save that for another day." You say, then Natasha stayed silent.

"Let's just go, we're going to Budapest." She says as she takes her hand back to herself, not holding your hand anymore, kinda hurt when the two of you walk back in the forest and into the caravan, not mentioning a word about the kiss that happened earlier.

Changing clothes, and managed to get all the necessities in a bag, then the two of you left the place as if no one stayed there recently. There's nothing but complete silence between the two of you, she occasionally asks if you're okay then there's nothing more, not even small talk.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

The two of you got off the train, the two of you didn't initiate a conversation during the whole trip, all she said was the two of you would be heading to the Budapest safe house. You tried to ask what she and Clint did here in the country. Her answer was short and simple. "I'm only removing my last defect on SHIELD," she said.

Now the two of you are outside the door, you have your handgun out while she tries to pick the lock, then a voice comes from inside. "I know you're out there." The female inside spoke. "I know you know I'm out here," Nat replied, then finally opened the door. "Whatever happens between me and Yelena, you don't do anything, alright?" She quickly says before heading inside.

The two of you have your guards up then Yelena speaks again. "Then why are you and your friend are skulking around like you're in a minefield?" Natasha chuckled sarcastically at the comment. "Because I don't know if I can trust you," Nat commented.

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing." Yelena finally revealed herself, a blonde female in her 20s, and she has a gun pointed at Natasha. The redhead looks at you signaling that it's time for you to back away, you place your gun back at your holster raising your hand where Yelena can see them.

"Didn't expect you'd bring a friend," Yelena says, her eyes never leaving Natasha's figure, then the two of them still have their guns pointed at one another. You decide it's best to leave the two alone, and you look around the flat, not touching anything and still careful while wandering around.

You started hearing dishes getting broken, somebody getting thrown on the ground, door, probably kitchen cabinet too. You trust Nat and decided to stick to your word that you won't do anything if something happens, maybe this is how they greet one another? You're not going to be surprised actually.

Then the noise died, you've decided to check both of them, and they were choking each other with a curtain, the place is absolutely trashed but none of them seems to be injured. Both of them turned red until Natasha called for a truce.

"You've grown up," Natasha says, Yelena stood up then looked at you as she replied to Nat. "No shit." Then the blonde heads into the kitchen and chugging vodka straight out of the bottle. "This is how you guys greet each other? Wouldn't say it's sweet, but you guys do your thing." You asked Nat.

Natasha shook her head. "Haven't seen her in like 20 years, trust issues, y'know?" You chuckle at her answer, then the two of you follow Yelena.

"You had to come to Budapest, huh?" Natasha says as she takes a drink in a shot glass, Yelena shot her a look before speaking. "I came here because I thought you wouldn't." Then her eyes trailed at the walls. "But since you're here, what bullet does that?" You and Nat look at the holes in the wall.

"Those are arrows." You answered Yelena, and she seemed to be content with it. "If you thought I wouldn't come here then why did you send me this?" Natasha says before placing the vials along with the picture on the table. "You brought it back here?" Yelena says with worry in her voice.

"Well, tell me what it is," Natasha commanded, then Yelena talks about it being a synthetic gas that has something to do with altering their mind. "In English, please?" Nat says with confusion on her face. "это противоядие от контроля над разумом (it's an antidote to mind control.)" Yelena spoke, causing you to chuckle.

Natasha looks at both of you before commenting. "Real mature." You furrow your brow with what Nat has said before defending yourself. "It was funny? Your sister has humor, Nat." You say now crossing both of your arms.

"Why don't you take it to your super scientist's friends, her dad?" Yelena asked while pointing at you. "We're actually on the run and we're federal fugitives as of the moment, sorry." You replied to Yelena, and you haven't noticed that Nat changed her shirt.

"Well, where's an Avenger when you need one?" Yelena spoke, and Nat glared at her sister, holding Natasha's arms when she walked towards Yelena. Stopping her from probably starting another fight, and she seems like she wouldn't so you let go of her.

"You could've gotten both of us killed." Natasha raised her voice, then you looked away trying to avoid the conversation. "What was I supposed to do? You're the only superhero person I know." Yelena spoke, and you felt bad for Yelena when Nat almost shouted at her sister.

"You know, I keep on checking the news about Captain America taking down the Red Room," Yelena says and Natasha looks at her surprised, you are confused since she and Clint already took down the Red Room, they always joke about Budapest. "What? Dreykov's dead, we almost blew up an entire building just to take him down." Nat spoke.

"Who's we?" Natasha rolled her eyes and answered. "Barton, we stayed here for 10 days before even leaving the country," Nat explained, yet Yelena isn't even convinced. "Then tell me exactly what happened, tell me the full details."

Natasha didn't speak as if she was holding something back, you were sitting down on a chair watching the tense scene between the two. "Did you check for Dreykov's body?" Yelena asked once again.

"There was no body left to check," Natasha answered, and Yelena scoffed as if Nat wasn't speaking the truth, then silence filled the room. Until the three of you heard footsteps outside, then Natasha pulled you to hide in safety.

Suddenly you and Nat heard the window crash and footsteps going in your direction. "You alright?" Nat asked, you just nodded trying to be silent, then Natasha's eyes went searching for Yelena.

Now she sees Yelena going across the room, turning some switch and causing a continuous explosion, then the three of you used the advantage of it and fleeing the building, you and Nat followed Yelena since she seems to be headed somewhere.

"Where are we supposed to go?" Natasha asked while the three of you were running for your lives. "East side of the building! Motorcycles!" Yelena answered, now the three of you managed to get on the roof. A lady is wearing a similar suit to what Nat would usually wear chasing all of you, seems like she's not hesitating to kill you all too.

Now there's nowhere to go other than jumping on the chimney and probably hoping for the best, you and Nat removed some piece of metal that connects the chimney to the roof, as soon as the both of you removed it. The three of you hopped on and held tight, suddenly the lady decided to join, yet she missed.

Natasha managed to hold the lady, trying to knife Nat's hands then she slipped from her grasp, causing the stranger to fall, the chimney now crashed on a building, you and Yelena fell and crashed in a window.

"Who are these people?" You ask Yelena, helping her to stand up, and two of you catch your breaths before heading to Natasha. "There are other Widows, trying to retrieve the vials and return it to Dreykov." You nodded with her explanation.

"Let's get to Natasha and free the widow chasing us," Yelena says, taking out one of the vials in her bag, then the two of you rushing down the stairs, and you wish that Natasha is safe, probably doesn't have a broken bone too.

"I believe you must be exposed to the gas then?" You ask her once again, Yelena looks at you. "Why do you think they're after me too?" She answered sarcastically. "Yeah, right… dumbass." You muttered to yourself, as soon as the two of you reached the ground floor.

The both of you kicked the door open, to see Natasha kneeling on the ground. "Do you believe me now?" Yelena asked, seeing the widow chasing the three of you lifeless on the ground, she slowly took back the vial in her bag. "How many are there?" Natasha asked, her back facing the both of you.

"Enough, let's go," Yelena says before heading to fetch her motorcycle, you don't usually feel this type of adrenaline in your body, considering the fact that your father would only allow you into in and out missions.

After lots of running and ducking to avoid getting shot by other widows, the three of you finally get to the motorcycle, of course, it's a two-person vehicle. "Which one is yours?" Natasha asked Yelena. "Black, brown seat." She quickly answered.

You heaved a sigh before taking the motorcycle next to it and hot-wiring it. "Looks like Stark isn't such a good girl, what do you think?" Yelena commented, before hopping on her motorcycle and letting Nat drive.

Once you've finally powered the vehicle, the three of you are being chased by an armored car. "Y/N! Follow us!" Nat shouted, of course, you're going to follow them. It's not like you'll survive having a psycho who copies your friends and being chased down by a trained assassin would do you any good.

Managing to lose the armored vehicle, there are other widows on the bike too, you're actually surprised of what they are capable of, it seems like Nat really must be one hell of an assassin.

Everything is going well until the three of you are welcomed by traffic, and suddenly a widow shoots the wheel of her motorcycle, while Natasha and Yelena crash into a car. You got out of your vehicle and followed the two, seeing Yelena pointing a gun at a man to make him get out of the car.

"You can't just steal a guy's car?" Natasha commented while Yelena got in the car first, then you're all panicking and shit, you followed Yelena inside and realized you sat down on her lap. "Well, Stark stole a bike earlier." She says while looking confused with you on her lap.

"I am panicking, it's my first time experiencing all this." You defended yourself, Natasha finally got inside and started to drive the car. "Y/N, are you alright?" Natasha asked, rolling your eyes by hearing that question for the nth time.

Suddenly you get dizzy, is it because you're probably panicking too much? Or the fact that all you've done the whole week was to run either from authorities or trained assassins. Your vision started to get all blurry, and you can't understand anything that Nat or Yelena was saying at the moment.

And you passed out due to the stress you've been feeling.

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You felt a sudden pain in your left arm and that woke you up, quickly sitting down you notice you're in a cramped and small space, is this the morgue? Are you dead? You placed a hand on your chest and released a relieved sigh when you felt your heart beating.

"It's been a year, Stark, you passed out while we're on the run," Yelena spoke, a hand on your shoulder trying to comfort. "What? No, that can't be-"

"Yelena, stop." As soon as you hear Natasha's voice, you feel safe, and you didn't notice that you were laying your head on her lap when you collapsed. "What happened?" You ask the two.

"Psycho comes back and shoots another RPG, hence why you're injured and we're hiding in this air vent." Nat simply explained and ran your hands on your hair. "How long was I out?" Asking once again. "Less than 10 minutes," Yelena answered. "I'm sorry…" you softly spoke.

"It's alright, it's normal that you reacted the way you did." Natasha comforts you, then to your surprise she takes your hand and intertwines your fingers with her. "I'm glad that the two of you are safe." You say as you hold on tight to Nat's hand.

"It still doesn't make sense, I killed Dreykov, dropped an entire building on him," Natasha spoke, Yelena looked at her before scoffing. "Truth doesn't really make sense when you only omit key details, what happened to Dreykov's daughter?"

"She was collateral damage, I had to take her down too," Natasha admitted. You felt the guilt in her when she admitted, then you suddenly remember how she and Clint would joke about Budapest.

"Wait… you and Clint joke about exploding a child?" You look at Natasha who's looking at the floor. "Sometimes using humor to cope helps, Y/N," Nat says, then you remember how much your father joked about what happened in New York, you think it's quite… valid?

"This is quite cozy for some air vent." You say trying to change the topic of the conversation, you moved your ass to sit down next to Nat, your head subconsciously resting on her shoulder. "Clint and I stayed up here for 2 days." She says, fiddling with your fingers and resting her head on top of yours.

"I'll see if we're good to go." Yelena says before opening the entrance of the vent, then she went back in the subway, now you and Nat are alone. "Are you ok–" Natasha was about to ask the same question she asked you for the whole day.

"Nat, no, I'm actually not, I'm fucking scared, and I feel like anytime Ross is going to be here or that Dreykov's special project is after us or the other widows." You let out, Natasha looks at you, then noticing that you just shed a tear, you are scared. Fearing that one of you get to be thrown in jail, or get killed because of some mind-controlled assassins.

"Y/N, you're doing great for someone whose first time being on the run, I know it's all hard to take in and if only we went our separate ways, you wouldn't have been dragged into this." She lets go of your hand, instead, she places her hand on your cheek once again, wiping the teardrop on your skin.

"If we've gone our separate ways I wouldn't last a day without you, I'm probably chilling with Wanda and Clint, I'm not saying they're not good company, but I don't want to be in jail." You say, and Natasha nodded. "I know what you mean, Y/N, I know…"

Then you notice the distance between the two of you, faces an inch apart, the two of you can feel each other's breath once again, and your eyes trailed down on her lips which Natasha noticed.

"That's also me saying I wouldn't last a day without you." You confessed, before resting your forehead against hers, Natasha was expecting you to kiss her, but being this close to you, she doesn't really mind, as long it's you she's doing it with.

Natasha stayed quiet, as she enjoyed the peacefulness of this moment, then she slightly pulled away from you to place a chaste kiss on your forehead, and she held both of your arms, wrapping them around her neck, now her arms made their way to your waist.

Burying her face at the crook of your neck while she holds you tight and close, you shut your eyes as the two of you embrace each other. While in the middle of the calm and serene moment, the lid of the air vent came off then. "We're good to go and we've got to be quick!" Then the two of you get off each other, if Nat gets to kiss you before you fall off the bridge, pretty sure you can kiss her before getting off the vent.

"Nat, wait…" You hold her arm since she's about to go down first, and she looks at you over her shoulders, you move closer to her before crashing your lips against hers, you softly bite her lower lip before slowly pulling away, and you see a smile on her face as she hopped down.

"Did you two just?" Yelena looks at Natasha, cringing with what her sister just did, Nat waits for you to get down before following Yelena. "Do we not talk about that too?" You ask Natasha before following her, and she looks at you with a smirk.

"Depends on what you want to talk about," Natasha replied, then you raised a brow at her response, you jogged leaving her behind and catching up with Yelena. "I will act like you didn't just kiss my sister a second ago so that we can communicate without me remembering that," Yelena says.

You chuckle, yet you smile at what she just said. "Is your sister usually annoying like that?" You ask Yelena while pointing your thumbs at Natasha, then the two of you look over your shoulders to see her.

"Ah, yes, I don't know what runs through her head," Yelena replied, while Natasha on the other hand, looks at the two of you not knowing what the hell you two were talking about.

Let's say that she's hoping and praying that Yelena doesn't say something about her in front of you.

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After staying in the vent and managing to run away from the Task Master, the three of you ended up in a convenience store in the middle of nowhere, you bought some alcohol, and bandages to properly care for your wound, and Yelena looked around the store for an alcoholic drink.

"Where is the Red Room?" Natasha asked while she's washing her hands on the sink, Yelena shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know, every widow is sedated at every entrance and exit for maximum security," Yelena replied, as she took a look at some bottled alcohol, then tossed it to you.

"Where do you think I was after all this time?" Yelena asked Natasha, the latter faced her younger sister, and she looked at her. "I thought you're living a normal life," Natasha answered, you take the items they took and head to the cashier to pay for them.

"And you never bothered to check on me?" Yelena says, Natasha followed you at the front, yet she didn't leave the store yet. "I thought you never wanted to see me." She told Yelena, and the latter rolled her eyes then scoffed.

"Just say you don't want your baby sister to tag along and save the world with the cool kids," Yelena says with a smirk on her face, and Natasha clenches her jaw. "You're not really my sister–"

"And the Avengers aren't really your family, well… except for Stark, she stayed with you after all this running," Yelena commented, and suddenly she changed the topic. "Why do you always do that thing?" And Nat looks at her with a questioning look.

"Oh, that thing!" You butted in, then you do the infamous Black Widow pose, Yelena nodded giving you a thumbs up for knowing what she means. "You're a poser, Natasha," Yelena commented, then Nat raised a brow. "I'm not a poser." The latter says.

"It's okay if you're a poser, it's just that you think that everybody is looking at you." Natasha retorted, and you chuckle at the bantering between the two. "All the time I spent on posing, I was doing something good, to make up for all the pain and suffering we've caused." The mood changes real quick, now you stay silent.

"Well, pain and suffering is every day and we'll always be the trained killer that we are," Yelena says, the guy at the cashier hands the plastic bag containing all the items you bought, and you leave the store first. Natasha followed after and taking the bag from your hands, you looked at her who seemed exhausted from all the events happening.

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" You nodded, Nat signs you to follow her, and after a little bit of walking, with Yelena behind the two of you, the three of you arrived in a small food place.

You sat down then Natasha went inside, ordering cheeseburgers only for you, and beers for all of you, she sat down next to you, while Yelena settled in front of you two.

"An older widow freed me, and I killed her," Yelena says as she takes a sip from her beer, Natasha unwrapped the cloth on your arm, and she tends your wound while listening to Yelena. "Did you have a choice?" You ask her, and she only shook her head as an answer. "Then it's not your fault," Natasha says.

Yelena's eyes shifted at the family going home across the place you three are drinking, she seemed to like the view of what seems to be a happy and functional family. "Have you ever looked for your parents, the real ones?" Natasha looked at the latter as soon as she finished putting a bandage on your wound.

"I got abandoned on the street like garbage, I don't think I have a reason to look for them," Natasha says then she takes a good sip at her drink before asking Yelena the same question. "Well, they ruined my birth certificate so I made a new one." She said with a smile, and Nat seemed to brighten up.

"It says that I still live in Ohio, I have an older sister who moved to the west and she works as a science teacher, but she started working part-time when she had her son, and she has a husband who is a construction work–" Natasha halted Yelena speaking when she chuckled at her story. "That's definitely not my story," Nat says, then Yelena leaned back on her seat.

"Yeah, what is your story?" Yelena asked, and without you knowing, Natasha looks at you while you're spacing out. "Well, I don't really have a story, I don't have much to think about it alone," Nat answered. "But if I'm pretty sure it involves another person, who's a Stark?" Yelena teased, and with the mention of your last name, you look at the latter.

"What about you? What is your story?" Yelena says, then you wipe your mouth with the tissue before speaking. "Well, I was created because of my father's one of many hookups, lived with my grieving mother while I was an infant and she's grieving cause Dad won't marry her, so she left me at his doorstep, we did DNA tests to prove that I was really his and now he loves me more than anything." You say, smiling at the memory of your father who did everything he could to raise you.

"Then why aren't you with him?" Yelena asked once more, you look at Nat for a bit before answering. "Because I chose to do what I think is right, and probably did follow my heart." The blonde chuckled, noticing that Natasha was blushing at what you've just said.

"I have a plan." Natasha suddenly spoke, you and Yelena looked at the redhead. "Is it killing Dreykov and taking down the Red Room?" Yelena told Nat, and she earned a nod from Nat. "Even if he's way too slippery to kill and Red Room's impossible to find?" She nodded once again.

"Sounds like a shit load of work," Yelena says, making you and Nat chuckle. "Yup," Nat replied and Yelena took another sip at her beer. "Could be fine though." You say as you take the final bite of your burger. "Yup,'' Yelena said.

"I saw where he put the keys," Natasha says as she looked at the car, that the man of the family parked in the garage, the three of you smiled before speaking in unison.

"Top drawer green cabinet."

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Next Part: To Make Action

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#natasha romanoff x fem!stark!reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow x reader #black widow #marvel universe #marvel cinematic universe #yelena belova #mcu #marvel mcu #tony stark #iron man #captain america #steve rogers #fem!stark!reader #fem!reader #fluff

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Why Couldn’t it Have Been Me?

Part 2

Paring: Wilbur Soot x reader (past), Ghostbur x reader

Disclaimer: This contains major spoilers for Tommyinnit’s 4/29 lore stream

Warnings: swearing, violence, death, near death, cheating, 4/29 lore stream, grief, blood, injury, panic attack

Word count: 6,737

(A/N): So in this, you’re Schlatt’s twin and Puffy’s your older sister. Also, sorry for any mistakes, I typed a good 2/3 of this on my phone

This was your own personal hell: being trapped within cement walls with your ex fiance, your asshole of a brother, and a Dream wannabe that seemed to never lose any energy. Your life was like a trope in a novel alive you would’ve liked, however being cursed to live in it made you absolutely loathe any and all mention of it.

Alive you would’ve killed to hang out with your brother again, not the one that turned to the bottle. Alive you would’ve craved the sweet melodies that streamed from Wilbur’s mouth. You would’ve swooned and maybe, just maybe, you would’ve forgiven him. Alive you would’ve perhaps liked this ‘Mexican Dream’ guy, you would’ve perhaps become the best of friends.

However you despised the three locked up with you with your whole heart.

Your ex fiance was someone you adored. Hell, you even idolized him when you were alive. The Wilbur you knew was sweet, loving, attentive, and just all around someone that you swooned over. You could still remember how your heart exploded when he first asked you out under the setting sun by the ocean. You remembered every song he's written for you, every word and rhythm by heart, even after all these years.

You remembered how you felt your heart completely shatter when you found the songs he had in his drafts for someone that wasn't you. Someone by the name of 'Sally'. After a heated argument you had broken up with him, taking the engagement ring off from your finger and throwing it deep into the ocean. You stayed on L'Manberg's side even after all that, too loyal and proud towards the country you helped forge to drop it. You wouldn't let some stupid boy or rabid tyrants prevent you from raising your beautiful nation up from the ashes.

That had been your downfall. You should've listened to Puffy and left the country behind when you had the chance, now you paid the ultimate price for your deep rooted loyalty and devotion towards independence. And your sacrifice didn't even matter in the end! Your deranged ex blew it all to smithereens. If you didn't despise him before, you absolutely did after your dumbass twin told you about his little 'escapades' while you were gone.

Every little thing Wilbur did, no matter how small it was, made you hate him even more. Every time he would shuffle those damned cards, it made you want to rip them to shreds and throw them across the train tracks. Every time he would sing or even breathe, you wanted to strangle him. You were absolutely certain that Schlatt felt the same.

Oh, your twin was a real card. Always boasting about how his horns were bigger than yours (who even cares anymore? Yours grew in first anyways), telling the others about your shortcomings through crude jokes, even going as far as fighting you through headbutting; you could still feel the pain of being beaten to death before respawning immediately. Schlatt hadn’t known that you respawn even in the afterlife, so you knew he was serious about killing you. You just wanted Puffy, she was far more tolerable than your twin.

The rustling of his suit jacket and his small grunts and pants resonated within the walls as he did various forms of exercising. You now knew about all of the differing variations of a pushup and you hated yourself for listening to his explanations. He would beg you, Mexican Dream, and Wilbur to stand on his back while he did his endless routines. The only one to readily take him up on that offer was Mexican Dream.

That man was arguably the only one you slightly tolerated, and you said that very lightly. He was still annoying as all hell, but he was a new face. Well, one that you didn’t know well enough to have a grudge against while you were alive. It was slightly refreshing, in a sense. When he first got here, his songs, stories, and humor gave you a nice break away from Wilbur’s depressing songs and Schlatt’s crude jokes. However when you spend eleven years trapped in a cage with one person, everything they do becomes the bane of your existence.

You were running out of things that kept you sane in this dump. You've read the same novel, counted the same ceiling and floor tiles (32 ceiling tiles and 57 floor tiles exactly), traced the same cracks in the walls, temporarily killing the same cellmates, you've done anything and everything that this cesspool had to offer. You've done everything billions of times over, a never ending cycle of monotony.

Tommy joining your group of miserable has-beens was perhaps the highlight of your fifteen, almost sixteen, years spent in this shithole. Though he finally dropped the brave facade and showed just how broken down he was after everything he’s been through, having him around was the saving grace to your sanity. He told you how your sister was, how your nephews were, and most importantly what you missed. You knew about all of the events leading up to Mexican Dream's death, but you were left in the dark with everything past that. Ender, you missed so much since you died; It baffled you how much you missed.

When the train actually stopped at your cell instead of just passing by and it's doors opened, you were just expecting another poor soul to be dropped off here. You could imagine everybody's surprise when none other than Dream stepped out of those doors. The nephew that had betrayed you without a second thought, that had murdered you, that had your severed head displayed on his mantle (you weren't sure the truth of that last statement, Tommy has a habit of over exaggerating. Though, Schlatt did say that your body was found with a missing head when you first forced him to tell you what you missed). Tommy talked to you about how he died only once, so you knew just what your nephew has been up to. It infuriated you knowing that your adult nephew was manipulating and abusing this young teenager.

While you were releasing your pent up frustrations on the masked man, he merely brushed past you and drug Tommy into the train by the arm. You could remember Wilbur banging on the doors begging for Dream to return his little brother and his angered screams echoing down the railways as the train sped off back towards the land of the living.

Lucky Tommy, he got to live out the rest of his life and actually age. You and your crew of intolerable jesters were stuck together once again.

Everybody was silent for a few months, reeling at the newly discovered fact that Dream could actually resurrect people. During those three months, they were quiet and tolerable. In a way, the talks that came out of it was like one of those family therapy sessions your older sister would hold in the living room (you remembered how she would grab you and Schlatt by the horns if either one of you refused to go). You would kill to attend one of those therapy sessions again, and this is the closest you were going to get to it.

You all talked about the things you regretted most while you were alive. Mexican Dream's was that he didn't protect his girlfriend Mamacita well enough. Schlatt's was choosing alcohol and power over his family (tears were especially shed over Tubbo, he really did regret abandoning him to be raised by you). Yours was that you were too loyal to a cause that would be absolutely decimated a short while after you sacrificed everything for it. Surprisingly, Wilbur's was that he had hurt you.

He had begged and groveled for forgiveness, telling you that he just didn't feel that special connection with you anymore. That didn't take away from the fact that he was seeing another while you two were still dating and that he blew up your life's work. He had stolen everything from you, and you would never forgive him for that.

After you made your thoughts on him completely clear, he had started treating you like you treated him in the last few months. Tension was building up between you two that had laid dormant for thirteen and a half years like a rope pulled taut about to snap.

Everybody had slowly returned to their annoying selves slowly but surely. Schlatt resumed his workout routine, Mexican Dream had started loudly singing and ranting about Mamacita's everlasting beauty again, and Wilbur eventually started up his solitaire and songwriting once again.

The three of them made you want to rip off your twisting horns and shove them in your ears in hopes of muffling them, but you knew that whomever put you here would restore your hearing and make your horns regrow. You knew that first hand after you spent a couple of years alone in this hellhole; breaking your horns off by repeatedly banging your head against the dull stone walls in a manic state was never fun. The regeneration of the keratin only slightly stung, it was like you were a kid and they were growing in for the first time again.

You felt your eye twitch as Wilbur sang about that damned train for the umpteenth time since he arrived. It’s always ‘train this' and ‘train that' and quite frankly you were sick of it. You were sick of him.

“Shut the fuck up about that damned train,” Schlatt seethed. You never once thought you would ever agree with your twin, but here you were nodding in agreement and shooting a glare at Wilbur’s direction. The brunet merely stopped his singing and reshuffled his cards, the sound making an ugly cacophony and grating at your ears.

“Not my fault you two don’t want to talk to me. I’m just making due with what I’ve been given.” He dealt the cards out in piles and started yet another game of solitaire. Seriously, how many games of solitaire can one play before they lose it? You supposed that you’d find out soon, Wilbur has been playing that monotonous card game nonstop for thirteen and a half years.

“Yeah, let the hombre chill! I like his music.” The masked man reached up to stroke his goatee, the scratching sound further penetrating your focus on your book.

Everything was quiet before Mexican Dream's voice pierced it, "hey, did I ever tell you guys how beautiful my Mamacita was?"

"You told us millions of times, fuckface. You narrate entire love letters daily, so how could we not know how 'beautiful' she was?" You complained, not once looking up from your book. Schlatt snorted to himself and returned to his workout. Mexican Dream crossed his arms in anger, cursing you out under his breath. Wilbur merely glanced at you and rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your bitchy attitude. Let him talk about Mamacita, it's not his fault every time you think you love someone it fails."

Your grip on your book tightened impossibly. If it were physically possible, the book would be crumbling to dust in your voice grip. You practically see red as you slowly dog-eared the worn page you were on and put your book down.

"Oh shit," you heard Schlatt mumble and move away from you, Mexican Dream following suit. When you both were alive, your anger was always something you knew Schlatt feared. However, you knew that he's never seen you this angry; nobody has. The majority of what you've been holding in for almost fourteen years is about to be unleashed.

"You know what I'm sick of, Wilbur?"

"Oh, do enlighten us."

"I'm sick of each and every single one of you. You three have been absolutely intolerable ever since you arrived. I was doing just fine alone and the universe just had to fuck everything up for me, just like it always does."

"There you go again," Wilbur laughed sardonically, "making everything about yourself." He gathered his cards and shuffled them repeatedly.

"I make everything about myself?! Do you even hear yourself? Mr. Oh-I'm-such-a-disappointment-to-Philza, you wallow in self pity twenty-four seven! You fucking write every single song about yourself!”

"I didn't want to come here, okay?! I didn't think it was gonna be like this! God, I might as well be in hell with you here."

"Believe me, my hell started fourteen years ago when you guys started showing up," you growled out, your ears flattening to the sides of your skull.

"Have you ever stopped to think that you're our hell? All you've done since we came here was complain and be a massive douche to all of us." He fluttered through the deck more and more as the argument escalated, the noise making you want to scream until you tasted blood.

"I'm the one that's in the wrong here? You fucked up my entire life. He," you pointed at Schlatt, "keeps beating me to death. And he," you jutted your chin towards Mexican Dream, "never shuts the hell up… Would you stop with that damn deck?! You're literally so fucking annoying."

He narrowed his eyes, "make me."

A mixture of an animalistic growl and a guttural scream left your lips as you charged at him, your head tilted downwards so he could feel the brunt of your horns. He moved out of the way just in time, the side of your horn brushing against his arm. You crashed head first into the stone wall before you stabilized yourself and looked at the brunet with seething hatred.

He was staring at you in shock, "how're you-" You used his shock to your advantage, throwing a right hook at his face. His head whipped to the side and his body followed, sending him to the ground in a heap.

"How am I still conscious? I'm a ram hybrid, dumbass. What'd you expect?" You huffed angrily before you pried the cards out of his hand and stalked over to the tracks.

He scrambled up to stop you, but before he could even reach you, you held the deck over the tracks and looked down at him. You could just imagine how your horizontal pupils were blazing with fury.

You reveled in the betrayal and animosity gleaming in his eyes as you dangled the thing he held dearest in this hell over the railroads. If you were to drop them, he'd never be able to see them again.

"We promised not to touch belongings on our first day here!" He yelled at you, his hands wrung in front of him nervously hiding the slight tremor. "Our first day here?" You scoffed, "the last time I checked, I was here for two years before any of you showed up." You gestured around the room in one angry swipe, the cards slipping slightly with how sweaty your hands were. It was then that you saw the fear in Schlatt's eyes. Good, that bastard should be scared of you. "If anything, you all are in my domain."

Wilbur flinched at the sight of the cards slowly slipping out of your hand, his breath hitching and panic stricken across his features. Mexican Dream stood up from his place and put his hands up. He was slowly approaching you like you were a cornered wild animal, making sure that you saw his every move.

He nervously chuckled, "let's just put the cards down and have a nice talk. Doesn't that sound better than this, mi amigo?"

You shook the cards once again, taking in Wilbur's silent anguish with glee. "I'm not your friend, I'm anything but. Don't tell me what to fucking do or else that picture of Mamacita is the next to go."

"...Okay, you're in charge, man. Do what you want." He reluctantly sat back down next to Schlatt. The ram was watching in fear, yet it looked like he was entertained with what was happening. You couldn't blame him, the last interesting thing that happened was three full months ago when Tommy was taken. That and you probably looked feral at the moment.

"You understand that if you drop those, they're lost forever right?"

You threw your head back and laughed, "of course I know, why do you think I only have one sock? I already tried that shit out before you came." You hummed to yourself in thought, then grinned. Wilbur was going to love this.

While you shuffled the deck, you kept a close eye on the movement happening inside the cell. Another perk to being a ram hybrid was that you had a nearly 360 degree scope of everything around you. The only movement happening was the panicked breaths from Wilbur, good. You huffed in amusement, "alright Wilbur, let's do a card trick. I'd ask you to pick a card, any card, but I don't want to risk you fucking shit up again. So, I'm just going to draw for you." You drew a card from the middle of the deck and showed it to him. "The eight of clubs, how fitting."

"(Y/n), I don't know what you're getting at, but if you don't give me those cards right now-"

"Shut it, I'm not done. I'm going to shuffle this back into the deck, watch the hands." You kept eye contact with him as you shuffled the cards rigorously, the card you pulled long since hidden with the slight of a hand. After a bit of shuffling and reshuffling, you had sneakily put the card between the two halves and bridged them until the cards were in one pile with the eight of clubs on top.

You chuckled and pulled the top card, once again showing it to him. "Is this your card?"

He nodded slightly, never once taking his eyes off from the deck. "Yes, now give it back to me!" The angry and anxious undertones were like music to your ears.

You tapped your chin in thought, "hm, I don't think I will. You've taken so much from me, it's only fair that I get some revenge." Without another word, you threw the cards behind your head and smiled widely at the sound of the fluttering down to the tracks.

Wilbur launched himself forward with a frantic yell, his hands flailing to catch all of the cards before they were lost forever. He only succeeded in catching a few.

His breath shuddered as he stared at the three cards in his hand: the five of diamonds, the four of spades, and the seven of hearts. The fate of the universe was on your side for once, perhaps preternaturally so.

"You- do you realize what you just did?!" He spun around to face you. If humans could froth at the mouth, a full waterfall would be streaming through his gritted teeth. His eyes held the rage of a man that had just lost everything in one singular instant, the resentment swirling in his dark brown orbs. Several veins were bulging in his face and neck, painting the skin in a red hue.

You walked over to your book and plopped yourself down. "Yeah," you said with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. You opened up your book and started reading it again, leaving the man to his grief.

Everything was quiet once more much to your delight. Though you read this book from cover to cover thousands of times, enough to know most of the words by heart, you were never able to fully enjoy and immerse yourself in it with them around. You took this time to reclaim your designated corner and spend some quality time reading.

You spent hours with your nose buried deep in your book, savoring the peace. That was until it was snatched out of your hands and ripped away from you. You looked up in slight shock at the sight of Wilbur snapping it shut and walking over to the tracks.

No. No. Nononono he can’t. That was the only thing keeping you sane. He can't just get rid of it when he's done so much towards you when you were alive.

A wail left your mouth as you tackled him to the ground, your arms wrapped around his midsection. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his forehead smacking against the painted yellow stone. You straddled his back and ripped the book away from him, throwing it across the room and away from the tracks.

You grabbed a fist full of his hair after yanking off his beanie and tossing it into oblivion with his precious cards. You pulled his head up and leaned close to his ear, "you try that shit again and your hat and cards won't be the only things lost to the void." Venom was seeping through your every word, "do you understand me?"

He merely jerked his head to the side, colliding it with your nose and mouth. You shouted in surprise and let him go in favor of holding your aching nose. You could feel the warmth of the blood pouring from it. Through teary eyes, you looked up at Wilbur as he grabbed your book and flung it against the wall of the opposite side of the tracks. You scampered to the edge and watched in horror as it disappeared into the void.

Without warning, you were forced to the ground, a hand holding you by a horn and a knee between your shoulder blades. You struggled before a dark chuckle was heard, "if you keep moving, you'll slip! Do you really want that?" You begrudgingly stopped, realizing that he had all the power in this situation. If he wanted to, he could just slide you off from the platform and toss you away like throwing a piece of paper into the trash.

"Good, you're not as stupid as you were earlier today." He slid you forward, holding your upper body over the tracks by the horn. You came face to face with the swirling abyss that was the void, small shapes appearing from your eyes adjusting to the sudden lack of visual stimulant. Your breathing picked up as he lowered you slightly, "you don't wanna do this."

"No, I do. Thirteen and a half years of having to be around you was hell, but the shit you pulled today just put the icing on the cake. Do you have any last words before you go?"

You grunted as he shook your head slightly, a slight pain coming from the base of your horn. "Fuck you."

"How appropriate, now let's see if you'll come back this time. It'll be our fun little science experiment!"

He dropped your horn without a care in the world, sending you plummeting to your demise. A terrified scream ripped it's way out of your throat and you screwed your eyes tightly shut in preparation for the void. Your body came to a jerking halt as you held your breath, preparing for… whatever awaited you. However, nothing came.

You cracked open an eye only to be met with the uncanny inkyness, the invisible mist freezing your face and its frostbitten arms opened wide for you. But you never fell into its embrace.

Instead, you were pulled back onto the platform. You laid on your stomach with your horn supporting your head staring at the wall, tracing every single nook and cranny of the bricks. Your chest heaved as you greedily gasped for air. You never thought you'd be so relieved to see the cement walls you've been trapped in for over a decade and a half.

You were once again pulled up into a now sitting position and leaned against the wall, your back touching the cool cement. Across from you, you saw Mexican Dream pinning a struggling Wilbur down to the floor. Wilbur's crazed eyes met you, piercing through your very being. However, that didn't affect you in the slightest; you almost were just wiped from existence completely, you stared into the abyss and it stared back at you.

You felt… strange, to say the least. While icy fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, you felt warmth blossoming in you at the same time. It was like the void was an actual person, politely giving you some form of relief from the hell you've been subjected to for over a decade and a half. It was so welcoming, not terrifying like you initially thought it was. When your fingertips grazed its surface it felt freezing to the touch, yet you felt the staticky power it was showing you. In that split moment of touching it, you had already accepted the power it held over you.

A hand softly slapped your cheek, "c'mon, (y/n). Talk to me." Your eyes drifted lazily to your twin. He was extremely pale, his eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of responsiveness. When you looked at him, he visibly relaxed. "It was so… so beautiful, Schlatt."

"Yeah, what the actual fuck did you just say? You almost just- just died for good dumbass." He looked at you incredulously, you could just see the cogs in his brain working hard to process what the hell he was seeing.

You looked back at Wilbur, he had stopped struggling slightly and was instead looking at you with a hint of confusion shining through the crazed daze. Mexican Dream tilted his head, the mask skewing slightly to the side of his face. "Thank you, Wilbur. You've shown me that there's… there's more to this hellhole than suffering. There's beauty in the darkness." His struggling had come to a complete halt, now staring at you with the most confusion you've ever seen from him. You also saw a very small hint of fear from deep within his irises.

A calloused hand gripped your chin and forced you to look back at your twin. "What are you on," he hissed lowly, "the stuff that's comin outta your mouth right now is actually batshit insane. He almost just permanently murked you and you're fucking thanking him."

"I haven't felt this at ease in nearly two decades. I feel ethereal, Schlatt, and it's all thanks to him." You let your eyes drift over to Wilbur. Giving him a content smile, you nodded your thanks at him.

The next few days went by tensely for the others, eyeing your every move and keeping you away from the ledge. You had only peered over the ledge once since then, it was just so alluring to you. It was nothing, yet everything at the same time. Mexican Dream had pulled you back to the opposite end of the room by your horns. The part that disturbed the three men was that you said absolutely nothing about it. You didn't even struggle against it, you just laid limp and let it happen.

With each passing second you spent away from the void, the feeling of utter peace was rapidly draining from your body; instead being replaced by icy fear, paranoia, and the realization that you were almost completely swallowed whole by the void.

After coming back to your senses, you didn't allow anybody near you. Your instincts going haywire and screaming that they were going to hurt you if they came close. The last time Schlatt tried touching you, you damn near took his finger off. They didn't bother trying to approach you anymore, instead glancing at you from the corners of their eyes. Wilbur was perhaps the one you feared the most, you knew that if he didn't hesitate to toss you away the first time, he would surely do it a second time. He spent most of his time staring at you, you didn't know if he was zoned out or not.

Everybody was against you, you knew it. You just knew it. They were plotting to toss you back into the void. That thing- or was it an entity? Whatever it was held a power over you that you didn't know was possible. That trance that it put you in, the craving you felt, was something that was repeating like a broken record in your mind. You could still feel the void calling out to you, it was terrifying.

You spent most of the time huddled in your corner staring at the fingers that had grazed the textured nothingness. You could still feel the buzzing and popping of the power on your fingertips, that inky residue staining your skin wouldn't come off. No matter how hard you scrubbed, scratched, or scraped, it would not leave your body. It was freezing.

The oncoming train screeching to a gradual stop was perhaps the only thing you fully acknowledged outside of your safety bubble in days. You watched in shock as it stopped at the platform. The doors opened with a fwoosh, fog pouring out onto the smooth stone floors.

Out stepped Dream, the smile etched into his cracked mask sent chills to your core. Next to him was… was another Wilbur? How in the name of Ender was that even possible?

This Wilbur was different though. This one was desaturated. This one didn't have an insane glint in his eyes, this one had grief shimmering in the tears that steamed on his cheeks. This one was broken compared to the well established man against the wall. This one was defenseless.

Dream shoved him to the center of the room, the man falling to his hands and knees. Sobs escaped his mouth as steam left his skin and drifted along the sides of his face before dissolving into the air.

"Got a new plaything for you guys, this one isn't as… fun as Wilbur is though." Dream's head turned towards you before it tilted. "What happened there? Did our dear little (y/n) get too close to the void?"

"They are none of your concern, pandejo," Mexican Dream seethed at his counterpart from his position next to the train. "Why are you even here, man?"

"Oh, I'm just here to make a trade. I'm afraid that I'll have to give you guys Ghostbur here in exchange for Wilbur."

Wilbur stared at him with pure hope and glee springing up in his eye for the first time in over a decade. "Really?"

Dream chuckled, "yes, really. What, do you really think I'd lie to you?"

"I don't know, ya smiley freak. You've been known to fuck people over." Schlatt scoffed, his ear flicking in annoyance.

"I'm telling the truth this time. Wilbur, come with me."

Stars shone in his eyes as he reveled in the sight of the open train doors. He followed the masked man with a skip in his step, ecstatic giggles leaving his mouth as he boarded.

Anger flooded you as you purse your lips together and you darted towards the train. The doors were closing already, if you could just-

The door shut with a clank, blocking you from freedom. Your clenched fists banged against the window, glowering at the sight of Wilbur's happiness and Dream looking at you with a wave.

"You fucking bastard! Take me, he doesn't deserve it! He threw his goddamned life away, you're wasting your time with him!" Your angry shouts were ignored by the two however as the train once again started moving with a small hiss.

A frustrated scream left your mouth as you pummeled the iron with your fists as it moved. If only you could find a train car to jump onto-

Now. You leapt from the platform towards the junction between two of the train cars. However, your leap of faith was set to a halt midair by Schlatt holding your upper arms. You thrashed against him, desperate to get back to the land of the living, desperate to leave this godforsaken hell called the afterlife, but once again, you were torn away from what you were trying to achieve.

You fell limp as you watched the last train car pass the platform and disappear down the tracks and into the void. The next possible time it would show it’s face would be in a few months if you were lucky. You let him take you back to your corner, your feet limply being drug against the floor. After you were plopped back down, you stared at the clone of your ex. You were pretty sure Dream said that his name was ‘Ghostbur’. What a strange name, yet you supposed that it was fitting for Wilbur’s apparition.

“Are ya done with your little ‘moment’, (y/n)?” Schlatt was kneeling in front of you, his hands prepared to grab you if you made a run for it. Though his tone was annoyed, you could detect the very small worried undertone of his voice.

You nodded and watched as he took a seat next to you, also staring at the newcomer. This is the closest he’s sat next to you in years.

“...What do you think of the clone over there?” You hummed to yourself, “he looks pathetic, but I think that might be the only thing he and Wilbur share.”

Mexican Dream took a seat next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. Normally, you would’ve shrugged him off, but you were too emotionally drained to do so. “Si, he does look kinda weak. But I think our new hombre here has promise.”

“Promise for what?” Schlatt snorted. Mexican Dream hesitated, “...I don’t know. This is gonna be interesting, mis amigos.”

“The party’s just begun, boys. Buckle up, this is gonna be a wild fucking ride.” You mused to them, unsure of what the future would hold with the newcomer. Though after a couple of years, you were sure you were going to hate him; that is if he’s nothing like his clone. Ender help you if he’s anything like Wilbur.

As you stared at the broken man, you couldn’t help but wonder: why did he get to go back? As far as you were concerned, psychopaths like him do not deserve a second chance at life. If anything, it should be you boarding that train. It should be you getting a second chance. He was the one that so readily threw his life away while you had yours ripped away from you.

One continuous thought was circling in your mind: why couldn’t it have been me?

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

You wrung your hands together as you anxiously waited for Tommy, Ghostbur, and Friend outside of Pandora’s Vault. Ranboo and Tubbo sat next to you in the grass, giving you silent comfort with their presence. You were mainly worried for your boyfriend, his worst fear was Dream using the resurrection book on him. You had calmed him down from a panic attack prior to meeting up with the teenagers, begging him to let you go in his place. Of course, Ghostbur being the caring and brave soul he was, wove you off and ensured that he’d be okay.

When you saw someone emerging from the portal, you leapt to your feet and steadied your head on your shoulders before you examined the people emerging. Except you only saw a human and a sheep, no ghost.

Tommy looked pale and on the verge of tears as he led Friend towards you. Before he spoke, he used his sleeve to wipe at his tears.

“Hey, Tommy! How did it- where’s Ghostbur?” The enderman hybrid stretched his usually slouched back to peer at the portal, keen eyes searching for any sign of movement.

“I think he’s dead… He’s dead!”

Tubbo tilted his head and looked up at the blond in confusion, “well, yeah. He’s a ghost. Of course he’s dead.” Ranboo nodded in agreement, “yeah, he can’t die again. That just isn’t possible.”

You said nothing (not like you could in the first place, your head wasn’t connected to your body), looking into Tommy’s eyes inquisitively. They were chock full of panic, grief, and fear, staring down at the lead in his clenched hands.

“No, no you don’t understand, it’s not that he’s dead… it’s that Wilbur’s back.”

“Hold on, the Wilbur that blew up L’Manberg? That Wilbur?” Ranboo peered down at him incredulously. “Yes! C’mon, he- we gotta get to L’Manberg.”

He spun around and led Friend towards L’Manberg, walking quickly with a purpose. You, Ranboo, and Tubbo followed. You hugged your head close to your chest, your eyes peeking over your arms. It was always something you’ve done whenever you were scared or worried about something. You heard stories about Wilbur from your nephew, if the stories of his insanity terrified you, you’d hate to see the man in person.

“I was about to kill Dream, and- and Ghostbur died. Dream revived Wilbur… Fuck!” Tommy walked faster, L’Manberg far off in the distance. With one hand, you grabbed the blond’s attention and finger spelled, ‘are you serious? He’s actually gone?’

“Yes! How many times do I have to explain this?! Ghostbur isn’t with us anymore and Wilbur’s back. Wilbur’s back and we’re absolutely fucked.” He turned on his heel and resumed his beeline towards the crater in the wall. No, he couldn’t be gone. This was just a cruel prank they were pulling on you, right?

Tubbo put a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a small sympathetic smile. You leaned into his touch slightly and carried on, stepping into the makeshift staircase behind Tommy.

You moved your arms to cover your eyes as you stepped aside to make room for the other two teenagers. You heard a voice; it sounded exactly like Ghostbur’s voice, yet it sounded... off. You however remained hopeful and uncovered your eyes.

The man that stood there certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Everything about him was just so wrong. The emotion in his eyes, his clothing, his smile, his stance, his hair, everything. This was a completely different person. This was Wilbur Soot.

“Hello again.” His eyes flicked around your group, his gaze lingering on you for longer than the rest. You noticed that he was staring at your neck, but that was okay. You were used to it; everybody did that. What you weren’t used to was the revulsion that flashed in his eyes. The eyes that once lovingly stared at you and reassured you that he’d love you even with your… condition were now filled with disgust.

That was what broke you, the tears that you tried to hold in came streaming out like a waterfall. Stinging pain hit you as the water worked its way through the cloth of your uniform onto your arms, leaving steam floating upwards towards the cave ceiling. You phased through Ranboo’s body and made a mad dash towards your sister’s house. You needed her, you could feel a panic attack brewing inside you. Usually you would hate to be a bother to your older sister and Ghostbur would always calm you down, but now he’s…

You pushed that thought aside and focused completely on getting to Puffy’s house in the distance. You phased through the door without a thought to knock, frantically beginning your search for Puffy.

You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find her. Unable to cope any longer, you fell to your knees in the middle of the living room and hugged your head to your chest, your face being pushed against your uniform. Your shoulders shook with silent painful sobs, the only sound in the room being the sizzling of your skin.

Why couldn’t it have been you? It should be Ghostbur standing there in that cavern, not Wilbur. This was completely your fault, you should’ve gone instead of him. You should’ve volunteered quicker than he did, you shouldn’t have let him talk you into it with his soothing words. Now because of your complete and utter cowardice, he was stuck in the afterlife once again. You were never going to see him any time soon. Your other half was ripped away from you because of your inaction.

Between sobs, your lips repeatedly formed the same phrase: why couldn’t it have been me?

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 09: Somnophilia (A Witches’ Brew)

Day 09: Somnophilia Title: A Witches’ Brew Pairing: Witch Shindou x F!Reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: noncon, somnophilia, mind control, manipulation, drugging via potion, quirk use, Stockholm-ish, yandere Note: I stayed up late to finish this and now I am very tired. Hope you guys like 😂

Kinktober Masterlist

The first thing you hear when you open the door to the shop is the ding of the bell hanging above the entrance. You glance around and see an absolutely enormous amount of magic supplies, some you know the purpose of and some you don’t. Along one wall are floor to ceiling bookshelves, and there’s also a wall of magic potions and artifacts.

As you’re looking around, you hear the voice of what you assume to be the owner call out to you. He’s tall, with a muscular build and dark black hair and a smile that could light up a room.

“Hello, welcome to my shop! Can I help you find anything?”

“Hi, yes, I - “ You can’t bring yourself to finish that sentence, too embarrassed by what you’re after to even be able to say it.

“It’s okay,” the man smiles at you, and it's so warm that you can’t help but return it. “There’s no judgment here, I promise.”

“Well in that case,” you say hesitantly, “I’m here for a love potion.”

“Oh, I can definitely help you with that.” He motions for you to follow him to the back of the store. “My name is Shindou, by the way”

“Nice to meet you, Shindou.” You tell him your name before explaining why you’re here. “The love potion - it’s not how you’re thinking,” you say quickly. “I don’t want to force someone. Just make it a bit easier, maybe?”

He laughs gently as he glances back at you. “I told you, no judgement from me.”

Finally you reach a door that he unlocks and opens for you to walk through. In this room is a large cauldron and a worktable full of various magic components. “Feel free to sit down, and we can talk about what you’re looking for.”

You choose a chair a respectful distance away from the worktable, but one where you can still see everything going on. Magic has always fascinated you, and you don’t want to miss the chance to watch it in action.

“Well, I’ve been having such bad luck lately. All of the guys I’ve tried to go out with have canceled, or dropped out of my life entirely. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Your voice takes on a slight tremble at the last sentence, the constant rejection finally getting to you.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you,” Shindou scoffs. “If someone doesn’t want you, then they’re idiots.”

“You really think so?” You give him a shy smile.

“Of course I think so.” He turns away from you as he picks out various vials and strange looking ingredients, laying them out in front of him. “You said you only wanted something to help you out a bit?”

“Yes, exactly! I don’t want to alter anyone’s mind or anything.”

His smile has a hint of a smirk, eyes darkening just enough that you can notice. But it vanishes in the next second, leaving you to wonder if you only imagined it. “You’re so good hearted.”

He takes a mortar and pestle, grinding something into a fine paste that he puts in a bowl. He also grabs a red liquid and a green liquid, measuring them out before adding them to the potion he’s creating.

“I’ll need a hair of yours,” he reaches out to you before pulling his hand back. “Assuming you don’t mind, of course.”

“No, go ahead, I don’t mind.”

His finger traces a line down your jaw, causing you to shiver a bit at his touch. He smiles at your reaction before grabbing a piece of hair around your face and pulling it out. It’s just a few small strands of hair, and you watch as he puts them into the bowl and stirs them up.

“Why do you need my hair?” You can’t help but ask. “I don’t mean any offense, just curious.”

“Oh, since you’re wanting a more general love spell, I’m adding yours so that you’re the focus of the spell.”

You give a quick nod at his explanation. You know nothing about magic, and his reasoning makes sense. The reason you went to Shindou above a handful of other witches was because he came highly recommended by everyone you talked to.

The smell of the potion quickly fills the room, almost overpoweringly strong. It doesn’t smell bad, but it quickly gives you a bit of a headache, causing you to stand up and walk just a short distance away in an attempt to find a bit of fresh air. You see his hands move quickly through finishing the potion, mixing it up thoroughly before handing a small vial to you.

“Thank you so much,” you whisper as you clutch the potion to your chest. “How much do I owe you?”

“We can discuss payment in a second,” he stares at you with a look of deep intensity. “Why don’t you drink the potion first?”

“Why, is there something that could go wrong?”

“Nothing bad, I assure you. But potions can have different effects for different people to begin with, and I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He steps a few paces closer, rubbing down your arm with one hand. “Please humor me?”

You laugh as you uncork the potion bottle. “How can I say no to that?” You throw back the vial, throat working as you drink the whole thing in one rush. It tastes much better than you would have thought, but once you finish the bottle, you feel yourself sway on your own feet as dizziness overtakes you.

The bottle slips through your fingers before shattering on the hard floor below, and your knees buckle. Shindou wraps an arm around you before lifting you gently, gazing down at you with a look you can’t place.

But you think it looks like victory.

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Shindou chuckles to himself as he carries you to his bedroom using a secret doorway that only he can see.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you to come into my shop, sweetheart?” Shindou muses at your unconscious form. He lays you gently on his bed, trailing his hands down your body as he begins to undress you. “I was getting so impatient watching you look at everyone but me.”

He unbuttons your shirt and bra before throwing them over his shoulder, and then slips down your pants to reveal your lacy pink panties. “They would have only hurt you. I did you a favor, sweetheart.” He trails a finger up your clothed slit, causing your body to jerk a bit. “They won’t treat you well as I will.”

He activates his quirk slightly, fingers vibrating against the sensitive skin of your clit through your panties and drawing a deep moan from your throat. “See how responsive you are? Your body already knows you belong to me.”

He wraps a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a deep kiss. He massages your tongue with his own, easily dominating your mouth with no resistance. His hand cups your breast, tracing feather light touches along your nipple and causing it to harden.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he moves down to your neck, sucking hard at your pulse point and leaving a trail of bruises wherever he kisses. “And I know you can hear all of this.”

As a response, your body trembles a bit in his grasp, and his chuckle is dark and amused. “The potion is doing its job. You're going to be able to feel everything I do to you.”

“This needy little body of yours is going to crave me.” He moves your panties to the side as his finger dips below, grinning as he feels how wet you are for him already. “Or maybe it already does.”

Two fingers slip into your heat as he kneels down, placing small kitten licks along your entrance. You let out a soft whine as you buck your hips up towards his mouth. “Since you can hear all of this, I’m going to explain what this potion will do to you.”

He curls his fingers up as he searches around on your inner walls, smirking when he finds a spot that causes you to clench around him. “I wasn’t lying when I said I could help you with a love potion,” he says conversationally, as if he wasn’t indulging freely in your body. “I just added a lock of my own hair when you weren’t looking.”

He lashes his tongue along your slit, licking up the wetness that has begun to leak out of you and nudging your clit with his nose. “The potion will make sure that you fall madly, obsessively in love with me, and only me. As it should be.”

And at that, he begins to slam his fingers against the spot he found, causing you to moan and clamp down around his fingers. Your hips buck back with his thrusts, and he knows you’re close already. You’re overly sensitive from the spell he laced into the potion, and when he sucks your clit into his mouth, you cum hard on his tongue, liquid gushing out of you that he laps up eagerly.

He doesn’t stop until you’re twitching to get away, body overstimulated and throbbing. Finally, he pulls away as he unzips his pants, removing them quickly and guiding his thick length towards your still fluttering pussy.

He snaps his hips in one quick movement, burying himself in your pussy instantly. “Fuck, you’re so damned tight,” he grunts as he begins to move. “You’re squeezing my cock so much that it's hard to move.”

His eyes light up for a brief second as he withdraws from you completely, glancing down at his cock and confirming what he’s thinking. There’s a slight amount of blood on the tip of his cock, and the sight makes him throb as he realizes he was the one to take your virginity.

He enters you again, but this time he makes short shallow thrusts as he tries to loosen your walls up a bit. The entire time, he strokes your clit with two fingers, activating his quirk and causing your head to fall back in pleasure as the vibrations run through you.

Finally he can move a bit easier, and his thrusts become savage, hard enough that your breasts bounce with every movement. You let out a broken moan as you near another orgasm, tears running down your eyes nd drool running out the side of your mouth. He grunts when your walls begin to flutter around his cock, balls tightening up towards his body as he reaches his own orgasm.

Your tight pussy milks his cock for every drop of cum in his aching balls, and he makes sure that he doesn’t pull out until he’s completely empty. He looks down at your fucked out form, cum oozing out of your pussy, neck covered in bruises and hickies. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful.

He gets up to retrieve a warm washcloth, using it to clean your body before he puts you in a pair of pajamas that he bought for you. After he’s done taking care of you, he goes to the bathroom and cleans himself up before climbing back into bed with you, pulling you tightly into his chest.

He holds you there, murmuring sweet nothings until you finally wake up, eyes fluttering open to see his face smiling down at you.

“Hey sweetheart,” Shindou murmurs as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Your face twists briefly into a mask of confusion, glancing around the room and at Shindou as if you’re trying to figure something out. “You - you gave me a potion, right? Brought me here and - “

You blush as you refuse to meet Shindou’s eyes, and you feel the deep rumble of his laughter against you. “Yes, I did. Is there a problem with that, sweetheart?” He pushes just a bit, wanting to make sure that the potion is in full effect. “I only did it because I love you so much.”

The look of concern and alarm falls from your face instantly as you smile back, rolling over to burrow your face into his chest. “Of course not. I love you too, Shindou.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @cissiewrites, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @emplosion22, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @armoredashley, @f4nficbaby, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen

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kimetsunoyaibawritings · 3 years

Text

Burn like the Sun

Rating: General

Relationship: Reader/Kyojuro

Summary: “Simply knowing you are safe is a plentiful reward in itself.”

As a survivor of the Infinity Train accident, the reader seeks out the man who had saved them to try and offer some sort of proper thanks. And while he is severely injured -- enough to have to lay down his duties as a Hashira -- Kyojuro is nonetheless happy to know that his actions had protected someone.

"Is this the home of Kyojuro Rengoku?"

The question pulls the attention of the young boy standing outside the front of the gate of the vast home behind him, who had been sweeping diligently before your approach.

His bright, firey-colored hair is striking, but it is dwarfed immediately by the sharp red of his eyes as they move up to look at you. The resemblance to your savior is striking -- so much that you are sure that this is the right home before he even opens his mouth to speak.

"I-It is, yes," he says, voice oddly timid. "May I ask uh, why you are looking for him?"

He can't be older than twelve or thirteen. You try to offer him a comforting smile and gesture with your chin down to the small, cloth-wrapped bundle in your arms.

"I was one of the people he saved from the train accident a few weeks ago. I heard he was badly injured because of it and I..." you let the words trail for a moment as the boy (his brother? his son?) stares at you with a look that is not at all accusatory, but sharp all the same.

You clear your throat and speak, tone renewed, "I wanted to show him my appreciation and wish him well for his recovery."

At first the boy doesn't say anything in response. In the growing silence, you almost feel foolish. It had been hard enough to learn the man's name in the first place after the accident, but something about his presence had left a moment of terror and hopelessness instead with such warmth and comfort that the simple prospect of gratitude seemed the least you could offer.

Lost among your own thoughts and worries, the sound of the boy's voice rings out and drags you back into the moment.

"Let me go ask him first, if that's alright."

You're barely able to offer but a syllable of a reply before he's already slipped past the front gate and out of sight into the grand house beyond. It is as large as you were told, though you can't recall any prominent businessman nor politician with the family name of Rengoku. Some of your contacts had called him a swordsman -- had his family once served as samurai?

The possibilities proffered more questions than offered answers, leaving you to simmer in your own curiosity for several minutes until the young fire-haired boy emerged from the house and hurried towards you.

"He says you can see him -- he's also happy to know you're okay."

The boy -- Senjuro, you later learn as his name -- quickly explains how to get to Kyojuro's room, though you're too lost in the warmth in your chest from the too-simple notion 'he's happy you're okay' to pay all that much attention past the first two turns. But you thank him all the same and shuffle towards the house, leaving Senjuro to continue sweeping up with only the slightest, softest curiosity in his eyes.

Once inside the house, you’re taken aback by how… empty it feels. You’d expect a home as large as this to be busy with people — whether family or workers tending to it. You find neither, greeted instead by silence and an unnerving amount of peace.

It doesn’t take long to start trying to recall the directions that the young Rengoku boy had given you. A turn down the left hallway, past the third door and then… ah?

You couldn’t quite recall after that. Left or right? Was there another hall, or was Kyojuro’s room along the outside? One question bumbled into another until your unsureness twisted itself up into a ball of knots. Despite the confusion, you didn’t want to seem even more foolish by moving back to Senjuro and asking for directions again when he had gone out of his way to describe them once already. So you stand there, frozen by your own indecision at the edge of a corner-

Until someone suddenly turns it, running straight into you with enough force to leave you stumbling backwards. You would have fallen on your ass if it wasn’t for the fact that the same offender reached out suddenly and grabbed your arms, which were otherwise holding with a vice grip on the wrapped bundle still against your chest.

“I’m so sorry!” a bright voice offers, soft but merrily. “I didn’t see you standing there. Are you alright?”

It takes a moment for your thoughts to straighten and your gaze to fix upon the person who had both run into you and kept you from toppling backwards.

Blonde hair with firey tips, eyes brighter than rubies and sharper than a fine point. Though his face is covered in bandages and there’s a patch over his left eye, the recognition feels like icewater dumped over your head.

“K-Kyojuro Rengoku?” you ask, embarrassed in the stutter of your own voice.

“Yes?” the man tilts his head. You’re not able to say anything further before he suddenly winces, pulling his arms back against his body and drawing your gaze down over the rest of his body — as well as his multitude of injuries. Broken bones and layers of bandages seemed to but scratch the surface for all that he is dealing with, which made you feel the heavy weight of gratitude twice, no, three times over in his saving your life.

“Shouldn’t you be laying down?”

Kyojuro merely laughs. Though the sound must pain him, it doesn’t muffle the blossoming warmth of the noise as it fills the air around your ears. It’s strange, in a way; does the sound of his voice often have this effect on people?

“I’m well enough to walk,” he finally says, pain and aches hidden so dutifully behind his eyes that you have to second-guess yourself whenever his lips press together in a brief, but tense line. A smile, however, quickly moves across his face. “I thought it would be easier if I met you halfway so you didn’t get lost! You are the one who came to visit me, correct?”

You nod.

“Y-yeah. I’m uh. One of the people you… saved. On the train, a few weeks ago. I wanted to thank you and… maybe get to know you a little bit.”

The man watches you silently as you explain yourself, but not for a moment does a sense of judgement press on your shoulders from his attention. He simply listens, politely waiting for you to finish before responding.

“It must have been hard to find me,” he comments almost idly, some mixture of amused and impressed. “How did you manage it?”

The question is filled with an odd sort of praise, so you lower your head down until your eyes are on the ground and your mind is a shambling mess trying to piece words together.

“I uh. I have some friends in high places, you could say.”

“Well!” he chuckles. “That almost sounds like a threat!”

“Oh no, no no no no-” flustered, you immediately raise your eyes up and begin waving one hand about frantically as if to dissuade the notion entirely. “I promise I didn’t mean that as a— I mean, my family—… I…”

Your broken explanation is cut short when Kyojuro reaches up a hand towards your face, index finger curling ever so gently beneath your chin that you barely feel the heat of his skin against yours.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, and for a moment you feel your heartbeat go still. “I promise I meant it only as a jest. You went to great lengths simply to see me, and you certainly didn’t need to.” His hand slowly lowers, but your gaze is held to his as if bound by unseen threads. “Simply knowing you are safe is a plentiful reward in itself.”

“I- I uh. It’s not-” the words fall broken and useless from your lips like shards of glass with no hope of coming together to make a cohesive sentence. Perhaps it’s for the best, since you’re not even sure what you can try to say in response to such an earnest notion of safety from someone who didn’t even know your first name.

And that is what finally pulls your thoughts into clarity.

You step back, providing just enough space between yourself and your savior so that your mind can clear and your heart can stop beating so damn quickly. Once you regain a sense of sensibility you all but glare at the man.

“My name is-” you say, brows knitted and stance firm as you all but aggressively introduce yourself to the man who had sacrificed so much of himself for your safety. For the safety of hundreds.

And Kyojuro watches, and listens, and then he smiles.

“That’s a nice name,” he says, then chuckles again, then bows his head for a moment. “Though you seem to know already, I am Kyojuro Rengoku. It’s quite the pleasure to meet you then! Properly meet you, at least. One less train involved.”

As the words settle humorously in the air, you watch Kyojuro turn and make a gesture to follow behind him. For a moment you’re confused, but he turns his face back to you and nods in the direction of the hall a few steps ahead.

“You wanted me to rest, yes? We can do so overlooking the back garden. I figure you’d like to sit and talk for a while-” and then he pauses, as if a moment of realization is just now moving across his thoughts. “…unless there is somewhere else you need to be?”

Bashful instinct presses at the root of your tongue to agree, perhaps even to make up some silly excuse for why you couldn’t stay for long. But then your eyes catch and hold onto a gaze that seems like brilliant rubies, and his voice echoes so warmly in your ears. And then you remember noting how empty the house felt when you stepped inside of it, devoid of anyone but what might be the last few members of the Rengoku family.

How lonely.

A shake of your head and motion of your legs happen before you can even think.

“O-oh no, I… have the day free. Though of course I didn’t assume you yourself had the time to entertain anyone, with you… healing up, and all.”

Kyojuro smiles for a moment before leading the way down the hall, his motions a bit stilted by injuries, but proud all the same. You held a deep respect for the man and his willpower despite knowing so little about him — and you certainly wanted to know more.

“I actually enjoy the company,” he says, just as you move in-step beside him. “And you are the first person from that accident to try and find me — perhaps the only one! So, if you’ll humor me for a bit of your time… I would like to learn more about you as well.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see him smiling. Despite the countless injuries that undoubtedly leave him in pain, some perhaps permanent, the man continues to smile as wide and as bright as the sun itself.

And you are glad to have met him.

#kny #kny x you #kny kyojuro #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #fic #readerinsert #sfw #sfw writing #writing #sfw fic #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #kyojuro #demon slayer #demon slayer spoilers #mugen train spoilers

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reidsnose · 3 years

Text

horror film

overview: reader and spencer watch a scary movie and spook themselves into cuddling

genre: fluff/angst?(yall are scared bc of the movie)/kind of humor

warnings: light swearing, mentions of idk like spooky ghost stuff

a/n: i definitely have been watching far too many horror movies for my own good but i dont have a spencer reid to cuddle up with lmao anyway i hope you guys enjoy it !!! please please let me know what you thing :)

masterlist

Spencer didn't understand. after all you guys see throughout the day, you want to come home and watch a horror movie. your whole lives were like one big horror movie.

but, regardless, he would walk to the ends of the earth for you (though he did not plan on telling you that), so watching a scary movie with you wouldn't be so bad. in fact, anything would be good with you. he would happily get a root canal if it meant spending more time with you.

he tried to convince himself: a scary movie is like halloween! and he loves halloween. reading about it. learning about it. but getting his adrenaline pumping via jump scare? hmmm..maybe not.

he didn't watch many horror films when he was a kid. his mom didn't do very well with them. and he liked his foreign films better. but watching the light in your eyes twinkle when you asked him to come over to watch together because you were scared to watch alone? how could he say no?

and you were beyond excited to have him over. even though you guys had already hung out outside of work before, you almost never got to pick the movies. truth be told that was because you went along with almost anything he said so you could get closer. and you planned on watching the movie at a friendly distance.

keyword: planned.

but it was now halfway through the movie and you were both cuddled up together in the corner of the couch. and from the beginning of the movie, anytime something remotely creepy happened, Spencer would lean over and whisper what a reasonable explanation could be. or tell you how statistically improbable the events of a certain scene was. and so you two drew closer and closer. and he convinced himself he was telling you the statistics and facts to make sure you dont get too scared; but really it was himself he was trying to calm down.

the movie was what it said it was; scary. but you had watched your fair share of horror movies, and though a couple of the jump scares got you, you were getting a little disinterested and distracted.

every time he leaned over (rather, now he was leaning down) and whispered something to you, you had to fight the urge to kiss him. not to mention. you were snuggled up to you're best friend who you were secretly crushing on and he was pulling you impossibly closer with every creepy scene that flashed on screen. and you were more exhausted than you knew. and Spencer was just so damn comfortable its like the guys arms were made to dream in!

so you started dozing off.

not Spencer.

he couldn't tell if his heart was beating from using you as his own personal teddy bear, or from the horrifying, ghastly scenes unfolding on screen. he didnt even notice you had fallen asleep until he leaned down, eyes glue to the screen, to whisper how unlikely the existence of ghosts was, and you didn't answer. he looked down and let himself audibly sigh. a smile cracking on his lips at the irony of you falling asleep during a horror movie.

one last jump scare had woken you up at the very end of the movie. not so much the jump scare, but the jerk of Spencer's entire body and the slight yelp he let out. and you found yourself feeling sad that Spencer was going to go home.

you told him he could stay if he was scared, to which he replied he was completely not scared (though his lie was very obvious). and having not watched most of the movie, you were able to fall back asleep in no time.

that was not the case for Spencer.

he was incredibly paranoid as he walked up the stairs, afraid an evil spirit would be waiting to scare him in his apartment. and when he lied down to sleep, every shadow that appeared in his room seemed to resemble a ghost. he tossed and turned petrified for about an hour before deciding he couldn't stay alone in his apartment.

so he found himself driving back to your apartment at about midnight to ask if he could sleep in the guest bedroom.

when he arrived at your door you let out a chuckle at his request, giving him a sort of "told you so" talking to as you made arrangements in the guest room so he'd be comfortable. and boy did this make him feel better. he was still very scared, but it wasn't nearly as bad because he knew you were just a room away. he opted to get a glass of water to try and calm down.

you, however, had just now started to be scared as images replayed in your head of things that go bump in the night. you tossed and turned trying not to look at the shadowy corners of your room, but you just couldn't fall back asleep. so you decided to make your way to the kitchen for some water, keeping your head down to avoid spooking yourself via the various oddly shaped nicknacks in your home.

Spencer stiffened as he felt a presence in the room, and he turned to see the shadowy figure of a woman, hobbling towards him, head trained on the floor. he couldn't scream, he couldn't run, he couldn't do anything but stare terrified at the figure.

you looked up as you neared the kitchen, letting out a blood curdling scream when you saw a tall shadow man standing in your kitchen.

Spencer could scream now that the figure began screaming. he let out a high pitched yelp as he stumbled along the wall looking for the light switch. he felt the need to protect you from the ghost, so in a fit of deranged manliness he let out a string of words that in or out of context is completely laughable.

"fuck off you spooky bitch!" the shadow man yelled, finally finding the light switch.

when the light flicked on the confusion and horror stopped. and instead you and Spencer stood equally spooked, in your fight or flight response.

"Spencer?" you croaked, lowering a raised fist. you planned on fighting a ghost?

"y/n?" he asked back equally confused.

"i was getting water what are you doing?" you asked, laughing slightly as you realized what he had yelled out.

"i was too," he chuckled, remembering what he had called out, "sorry for telling you to fuck off and calling you a spooky bitch."

"its ok, sorry for being 100% ready to punch you in the neck."

you two stood in a silence that wasn't exactly comfortable but not awkward either as you got a glass and filled it with water.

"hey do-" he began.

"could i-" you started at the same time.

"you go first," he chuckled, taking a sip of his water.

"i wont be mad if you say no, but could i sleep in the guest bed with you? my room has way too many spooky corners." you asked shyly.

"i was just about to ask that," he smiled.

you let out a relieved sigh before gulping down your water and heading to sleep in the guest room.

you two lied weirdly far at first but after mentioning how the coat hanger looked like a man with horns you two both reached for each other. falling asleep wrapped tightly in each others arms. hearts beating together quickly; but not because of fear.

utra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @remariiana @spencerreid9

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