#{~ out of vials ~ ooc ~}

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

  On-Sheet Notes

Ink remembers when Killer didn't permanently have/steal one of his vials and he's very salty about it

memory is based on posts, on-screen info, or whatever's most convenient

thick soft cape (can be used as a blanket)

fractures/cracks everywhere instead of tattoos

physical attacks can separate a portion of Ink from himself, the smaller half stops being solid

Ink: if i'm one of your favourites and you redesigned me to enjoy drawing me more are you gonna angst me

Creator: no

Creator: maybe

Creator: i haven't decided yet

Ink:

[ghostlyanon]

COMPLAINS ABOUT LAB TESTS AND BLOOD WORK

[reiketsui]

thinking about poison desensitization being part of the training for all rocket ranks with how much they deal with poison types

[kindred-huntrs]

{I’m now introducing a new member to the blog: Emery Whitlock, an Omnic.}

Emery was made to help heal. At least, that was her first memory. She was there when the crisis and overwatch had come and gone. Soon enough, she was out of her job. Mostly due to fear for the patients. She didn’t blame them but felt hurt. Emery traveled. Never staying around for too long because she knew she made people nervous. Emery is destined to join overwatch.

Personality wise: Emery is a “goody two shoes.” She loves helping others in need and always willing to lend a hand. This is to her detriment. She’s too nice. She’s too willing to help. Emery is practically a doormat. A people pleaser. She’s so scared of humans hating her that she tries so hard to be perfect. She’s insecure about herself. She sometimes wishes she was human.

[carpenterswife]

HALF OF ME (i)

SUMMARY: Despite appearances, you’d learnt Soldier Boy was, actually, capable of being a good man. Somehow, you’d wormed yourself into his good books, and had the rarest privilege of seeing him without the suit, the drugs, the ego, the everything. Just as things were going good, his heart somehow getting even warmer for you, the world separates you in the cruelest way.

PAIRING: Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3573

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Sexism (set in the 1980’s), typical Soldier Boy behaviour, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, questionable morals (peer pressuring drug use), sexual content, eludes to smut, Soldier Boy may be a bit OOC at times, gore.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Becoming a world famous supe was never something you’d ever wanted. Sure, you’d grown up with their photos on your bedroom walls, your father telling you stories of when the first ever supe came to be, insisting he fought alongside the Soldier Boy in the war

The people around you seemed to idolise them. These… mostly regular people in tight suits, pretending to be better than everyone else.

You knew better. You knew enough. Enough to know supes were dirty, and corrupt, and definitely not the heroes they presented themselves to be. That their hands were more blood than they were skin anymore.

And, frankly, you wanted nothing to do with Vought or Payback — or whatever the fuck those shitty, useless superhero teams were called. (Seriously, what did they actually do? Except sit in their pretty tower and take the peoples’ taxes?)

Your father, however, had different ideas.

So, at 18, you woke up in the hospital, after an ugly head collision, with superpowers you’d never had before. A miracle, the doctors called it, a supe whose extraordinary powers had been hidden for her whole life. When you got home, you forced the truth out of your father. Compound V, he called it, a new chemical made by Vought.

No one was born a supe, he admitted, it all came from a liquid in a vial. The truth hurt you, as much as it didn’t really surprise you. Chosen by God, my ass.

This wasn’t supposed to be your life.

But it’s certainly what it turned out to be.

Payback were as shitty, if not more, than you’d originally thought. Each of them had… many flaws. Soldier Boy, obviously, was the worst. If the Devil reincarnated himself, he’d look and act like Soldier Boy.

Simply talking to the man made you want to shoot yourself.

Well… it did at one point.

Two years down the line, things had changed. Soldier Boy was still insufferable, sexist, arrogant, and a major asshole. But… he wasn’t so much a dick directly to you, as he used to be. In fact, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was actually somewhat nice to you. As much as his macho heart could manage, anyway.

You noticed it the first time when he saved your life on a mission. He’d grabbed your waist when a grenade clinked at your feet, whirling you around and to the ground, squashing you against his firm chest, using his shield to protect you both from the hot blast. He’d shrugged it off as nothing; as something any leader would do for his team. Then you watched him hit Gunpowder about for not following his order to a T, and realised… maybe he did treat you different.

It was undeniable these days.

You were the only person on Payback that Soldier Boy could remotely tolerate.

“You need’a be more careful.” Despite the hard look on his face, Soldier Boy was staring down at you, as a Vought doctor wrapped clean bandages tightly around your midsection. It was a bullet to the wound; which, with being a supe, wouldn’t be too bad, but you didn’t heal inhumanely fast like he did. “You’re fuckin’ useless when you’re hurt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Thanks for your concern, Soldier Boy.”

His eyes narrowed into a harsh glare. “Ben.” He corrected you, for what was probably the 50th time. Each time he did, he got more annoyed with you. “How many times do I have to say it? Is there a brain in that pretty head’a’yours?“

You grunted, spinning on the bed and hanging your legs off the side of it. “Thanks for the compliment.” Ben rolled his eyes at your sarcasm, not offering a hand as you groaned in discomfort and got to your feet. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be healed up by the time we set off for Nicaragua, if that’s what you’re worried ‘bout.”

Ben just grunted, displeased. “Ain’t happenin’.” He immediately shot that idea down. “We leave for Nicaragua in two weeks. You ain’t comin’. Sit this one out.”

You stared, expecting a joke. Clearly, he wasn’t. “Seriously?” You groaned, unhappy. What was it with this guy? “I’ll be fine. It’s a silly little bullet.”

“I was holdin’ your fuckin’ guts in your body.” He walked away, reminding you of just how bad your injury actually had been. He had, indeed, practically been keeping your guts inside of you as you bled out. “You ain’t going. You’re stayin’ here.” You chased after him, pulling your shirt on as you left the infirmary.

“Ben—“

He whirled around to face you. “I said, you’re fucking staying.” He growled, glaring down at you. God, were you glad you were on his side. This man was terrifying. Six feet of pure muscle, strength and violence. “You’re better off here, using that face of yours to get some PR.”

“And, what? The others will back you up?” You scoffed, grabbing his wrist as he went to walk away again. His expression went cold at your touch, but you didn’t flinch. As much as he tried to scare you, Ben wouldn’t raise a hand at you… probably. You had faith in the man. “They can’t fight for shit, Ben. Gunpowder hasn’t even discovered his own dick yet. You think you’re gonna have your back covered out there?”

He ripped his wrist away harshly. “I don’t need my back covered.”

“Everyone needs their back covered.” You argued. “Even you.”

He chuckled, sarcastic and dry. “You worried ‘bout me, princess?” You gave him a ‘seriously?’ look, as he took a step closer, mouth curled into that ever-infuriating smirk. “I’d perform better if you sent me off with a taste of that—“

“Ben.” You interrupted him, unimpressed. You rolled his eyes at his predictable behaviour. “I’m not gonna fuck morale into you.”

“Shame.” His eyes flicked up and down, tracing the curves of your body. “Bet you’d be a firecracker.” He walked away again, and you threw your hands up, groaning. Ben chuckled as he turned the corner. “Think it over, sweetheart.”

“You’ve got a hand.” You called back to him. “Use it!”

Conversations like that were very common with Ben.

It’d be a normal conversation (as normal as it gets with him) — and then he’d start talking about fucking you against the nearest surface, and all pleasantries went down the drain. Seriously, he thought 80% with his dick, and 20% with his actual brain.

And that was being kind.

But, beneath all of his macho assholery, was his genuine worry. You knew he wasn’t letting you accompany the rest of the team to Nicaragua because of your injury, despite how minor it was, and that he was worried you’d injure yourself further.

You’d never slept with Ben, despite how much he’d tried to charm you into his bed. Your relationship was strange. He flirted, you flirted — there were lingering touches. And, sure, he’d never put his dick in you, but his fingers were a different question. And… oh, boy, could that man use his hands.

It was like being in a relationship, just without the sex. Which was odd, as it was Soldier Boy. But, the way he smiled at you and treated you, it made you feel different to the other women.

He was just… shit it showing it.

Poor bastard wouldn’t know emotion if it slapped him in the face.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

“I am not wearing this.”

Okay… scratch all of that. Maybe Ben was just a dickhead.

He lounged back in his chair, grinning lazily, legs spread like he owned the place. He probably thought he did. “Why not?” He took a sip of his whiskey, ice clinking against the sides, eyes never leaving you from over the rim of the glass.

You held up the fabric. “Seriously?”

It was basically a scrap of fabric, with how much it covered up. You didn’t shy away from showing skin. You quite liked short skirts and pushing the line. Because, as a supe, there was a line. Vought liked it when you showed skin — apparently it made your ratings go up with the male fans, no shocker. But, too much skin on display, the male fans started calling you a whore, and the ratings shot back down.

It was a bit like a balancing game, trying to find the perfect amount of skin to make the boys ogle but also respect you. An impossible feat, truthfully.

And this? This was definitely classed as too much.

“I don’t see the issue.” His smirk said otherwise.

“My tits are not gonna stay in this, Ben!”

His smirk just grew. “Again, I don’t see the issue.”

You groaned and put the dress down. “No. I’ll get my own dress. I am not wearing that.” You tell him, arms folding across your chest. You didn’t miss the way he checked out your tits, and the way the placement of your arms accentuated them.

He rolled his eyes, obviously not happy with your decision. Leaning towards, elbows on his knees, Ben’s eyes took you in. “Why?” His head cocked to the side. “You’d look hot. It’d make your ass look great.”

“That’s not a compliment.” You grumbled, pushing a hand through your hair. Ben made a small grunt of disagreement, but didn’t say anything otherwise. “Listen, there’s a certain line. Alright? If I wear that, every guy out there will be callin’ me a whore. Okay? Imma find something else.”

He hummed and sat back. “I think you should wear that one.” Sighing heavily, you just rolled your eyes at his persistence. “All those assholes will be blowin’ their pants just lookin’ at you, sweetheart.”

“Again, not a compliment.”

Ben stared at you, and silently took another sip of his whiskey. He always seemed to think these crude, rather sexist and inappropriate remarks were compliments. Like commenting on your body. Or saying you’d be a freak in bed. Which were obviously not actually compliments.

You rolled your eyes, rubbing your forehead. “I’ll find another dress, Ben.” You told him, definitive. There was no way he was going to convince you to wear that dress.

“What a disappointment.” He grinned, lopsided. “I was lookin’ forward to seein’ you in that dress.”

“Again,” you deadpanned as he checked you out once more, “you have a hand… use it.”

Ben just smirked, and sipped his whiskey again.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

You wore the fucking dress.

The asshole always won. Always.

He looked so fucking pleased, as you walked into his after-party, wearing the dress he’d picked out for you. His smugness was clear, brushing through the crowd with ease to come to you.

Ben hummed, eyes dilating as he stared you down. His eyes lingered on your tits, as they always did. “You look…” he hesitated, trying to think of a compliment that wasn’t degrading, and failed, “fuckin’ hot. If you weren’t such a bitch, I’d bend you over right here.”

Your face pulled together in disgust, looking at him with your lips pressed together “… gross.”

He chuckled. “Drink?” He offered. “I got your favourite.”

And there he goes again.

Being nice.

It did your damn head in.

Accepting his offer, you shivered as his large hand landed on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. They all seemed to part like the Red Sea as he came through, a fact that amused you greatly.

Seriously. These women looked at him like he was Jesus reincarnated, when he’d totally call them in a whore in bed.

Ben silently reached out for your favourite alcoholic drink, pouring it into a glass. His eyes scanned over the room, smirking at a few of the women ogling, sending them rushing to their friends and squealing. He merely chuckled and handed you the full glass.

“Thanks.” You murmured, taking it from him. Your eyes stared up at him for a moment, curious, before looking away again.

What was it with him? How could be such an egotistical one minute, and then be nice and respectful the next? It was like a guessing game, trying to figure out what mood he was in.

He grabbed your wrist, his grip firm, but not enough to hurt you. “Come with me.” He guided you through the crowd once again, to the doors in the back. As he pushed through into the room, he flashed you a cocky grin over his shoulder. Dickhead.

This room was far quieter. You noticed, immediately, the only people present were supes and celebrities, not the random civilians that’d been granted a pity invite — or the women Ben thought were hot. This was the main party. There were drugs covering every table, with various big names passed out on the chairs, blazed.

Ben lead you to the corner, where he’d obviously already been busy, if the half-snorted lines of cocaine proved anything.

Silently, he offered you a line, which you gratefully accepted.

You didn’t do drugs before you joined Payback. In fact, you’d avoided them, promising yourself you’d never become that type of person. But it was the norm within Vought. Every supe spent their nights filling their bodies to the brim with various drugs, poisoning themselves. So, you started smoking weed to fit in.

Then Ben found out you only did weed, and decided it wasn’t enough. With enough pressure, he’d gotten you onto any other substance he could convince you to try.

It made you more attractive, in his eyes, as you spiralled into addiction like him.

In fact, it got him rock hard, to snort lines or share a joint with you. It was so fucking hot, watching your eyes glass over as you got higher with every hit, with every line. God, it turned him on so bad.

You snorted your third line of the night, when Ben suddenly pushed you back into your chair. Bewildered, you stared at him, as he snatched up a baggie of the white powder. Your heart leapt to your throat, the moment he moved aside the slit in your dress, revealing the bare skin of your thigh. All breath left your lungs, watching him pour some of the powder onto your thigh.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

He was about to do a line off you.

He glanced at you through his lashes, smirking at the shocked and flushed expression you wore. He used his pocket knife to cut the lines, mindful of the sharp blade against your soft skin.

God, this was hot. He found it hot. You found it hot. It’d be a damn miracle if you ended the night with your clothes on at this point.

Your skin tingled as he sniffed up the first line, of his hands roughly gripping the top of your thigh to steady you, his other holding a rolled up $100 bill. He groaned in pleasure, body physically shuddering, head shaking, as the drug made his body run hot.

He did the next line, the grip on your thigh becoming tighter as his pupils began to blow up.

Was it getting hot in here? Or was it just you?

Maybe it was the cocaine in your systems, maybe it was the fact Ben was just… so damn hot, but you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing his hair and forcing his head up as he snorted the final line off your thigh.

He looked up at you, pupils blown, lips parted. Holy shit. This man was sculpted like a fucking God. Your body shivered. “You finally takin’ my offer, sweetheart?” He chuckled, shaking off the immediate effects of the cocaine, raising himself up to your level.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, breathless, practically begging him.

His eyes went dark, almost black, with lust. The smirk on his lips made you squeeze your legs together. “Don’t need to ask me twice.”

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

You now understood the hype. You understood why women bent their knees the moment Ben uttered a word to them.

Holy shit, did this man have talent.

Your legs were still twitching, the space in between your legs throbbing and tingling with how many times you’d come on his fingers, his tongue and cock. You’d counted four, before your vision had gone white.

Jesus, he had stamina. A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it’d been just over five hours since you’d first fell into Ben’s bed. That super strength was better for more than just fighting, after all. This man should be advertised for his abilities. No shocker he was an American sex symbol.

He’d just fucked your brains out.

And now, he was staring at you with admiration, laid on his side, in the same bed he’d just railed you in. “You feelin’ okay?” He murmured, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah.” You rolled over to face him, a jolt of discomfort and pain in your hips and thighs. You might have to hold back on… doing anything for the next few days, however. “You didn’t break anything.” You joked, soft and breathy.

He chuckled quietly, hand sliding around your waist and dragging you closer to him. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waitin’ to do that.” He whispered, uncharacteristically soft and gentle.

“To fuck me senseless?”

He smirked. “Mm, I have dreamt of that.” Your eyes narrowed in mild disgust at the image of him having wet dreams about you, swatting his chest. He grinned and caught your hand. “No… I meant how long I’ve waited to have you. You’re fuckin’ perfect. Not just your body. Everything about you is so sexy.”

Your brows furrowed, squeezing his hand, and then worming your fingers out of his. “What do you mean?” You asked softly.

He seemed to struggle for a moment. He wet his tongue with his lips, making your body tingle again. Jesus. “Let’s get dinner.”

What.

“Me and you.” Ben smiled, tracing the curves of your body with a featherlight touch. “Real fancy. I’ll pay.” Was he… asking you on a date right now? The Soldier Boy, asking you on a date? Instead of fucking you and tossing you out?

“You’re serious?” You asked softly, surprised. When he nodded, you grinned, biting your lip to contain it. “Okay, Ben. Let’s get dinner.”

His eyes lit up. Ducking his head down, his lips touched yours, gentle and affectionate. His kiss spoke so many words; his hands gently cradling your body, as he kissed you like you were made of glass. The touch was intimate and loving, widely different to the one he’d used when he’d been on top of you.

No, this was completely different. This was him being vulnerable. This was him showing you just how he felt, without the words.

He smiled against your lips and pulled back, just enough to speak, but his words were still brushing yours. “Yeah?” He whispered, in response to your agreement.

“Yeah.” You stared at him with big eyes.

He grinned, almost boyish in its nature. He stared at you in adoration, seeming to be collecting the words on the tip of his tongue.

You giggled under his stare. You sat up, pulling him with you, grabbing the blanket that he had draped over his headboard. It was fluffy and warm, and smelt like his cologne, and you didn’t hesitate to wrap it around your shoulders, cocooning yourself.

If possible, his gaze softened even more. “You’re adorable.”

Quietly, you laughed. “You sure you wanna do this, Ben?” You stared back at him. Ben was nothing if not a womaniser. Settling down was nothing like him. “Get serious with me, I mean.”

“You’re the only one I’d ever want to.”

Your brows pulled together, confused. “Why?”

Ben soothed a hand through your hair, green eyes drinking in the perfections and imperfections on your face. “You’re the only one I trust.” His voice was gravelly, still heavy with the effects of your recent endeavours. His hand travelled through your hair, and then came down to cup your cheek.

Wrapped up in his fluffy blanket, your head rested on the wooden headboard. “I trust you, too.” You whispered, tilting your head into his palm. His skin was rough, painted with callouses and scars. Every scar on his body had a story. And you’d spend the rest of your life learning every single one.

Despite himself, he smiled at you, thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. “I’d kill for you. You know that?” His words made you shiver. Ben killing people wasn’t exactly new… or surprising. But doing it for you? God, it made your stomach heat up — and other parts. “These assholes don’t hold a candle to you, doll. Countess? That whore is— is repulsive compared to you.”

You laughed softly, rolling your eyes affectionately. “Ben.” You scolded quietly, though not with an ounce of anger.

The supe just smirked, chuckling deep in his throat. “You want me to drop that bullshit PR relationship I have with her? I’ll do it. In a fucking heartbeat. I’ll be with you, publicly, if you want me.”

“You’d ruin your reputation for me?” Now that — that meant something. Ben could say anything and everything; he was a master manipulator. He could get anything he wanted with that smile and his suave words. But, if there was one thing he would always prioritise, it was his reputation. He’d do anything to be the alpha male. Anything.

“I’d do anything for you.” He grabbed your hand within his much larger one, guiding it to his chest. He pressed your palm over his heart, allowing you to feel his heartbeat. “I’ll do anything for you, to be with you.” You felt the steady rhythm of his heart. He wasn’t lying. That, or he was a great fucking liar. “I’m never leaving your side. I’m yours.”

Your eyes searched deep within his. “Always?”

Ben smiled. “Always.” He leant forward, gently pressing his lips against yours in a tender kiss.

Three months later, Soldier Boy died in a nuclear meltdown.

A/N: jesus christ this took me so long to write 😭 but i’m so happy with how this first chap turned out. it’s gonna get so much more fun to write we get to the action 👀 pls lmk if there’s any mistakes, as i will go back n fix them !!! hope you enjoyed <3

banners by @cafekitsune

TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity

[osachiyo]

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 & 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — fem!reader, aphrodisiac, masturbation, unprotected sex, begging, insatiable reader, honorifics (sir), dom! dottore • this is for @dazaisslave !! so sorry for getting to it this late, tysm for being patient with me ichika :3 apologies if he's ooc, this is my first time writing for him :) happy reading and i hope you enjoy !! minors dni

DOTTORE never expected to see such an.. interesting spectacle when he walked into his lab. There you were, perched on top of his table — some of the vials of who-knows-what knocked over to the ground. Small whines and moans of his name escaped your glossy lips, while two of your fingers plunged in and out of your drooling cunt in a rapid pace, the small digits seemingly not enough to fulfill your craving.

"and what do we have here..?" the masked man smirked, clearly amused by the alluring view you had to offer. your head snapped up in dottore's direction, clearly shocked to see your lover standing in the doorway.

"don't tell me you're shocked to see me, pet — what do you think you're doing in my lab, hm?" his lips parted to reveal a sinister grin, teeth glinting from the dim lighting of the room. "dottore, i —" you struggled to find the right words. what the hell were you supposed to say? that you sneaked in his lab to see what he was working on, then accidentally knocked over a vial with bright pink substance in it and suddenly started feeling dizzy and hot? like hell he'd buy that.

as if the man could read your mind, he stepped closer to the broken glass on the floor — a sigh leaving his thin lips, "what you knocked over, my darling, was a vial of aphrodisiac," he grumbled with slight annoyance, now looking up at you through his mask. "a very strong kind, to be clear."

oh.

well that explained why you were feeling so.. hot all of a sudden — but that didn't make it much better. the aphrodisiac was strong indeed, so strong that even the doctor himself could feel himself succumb to it, pale face flushing as his breaths get heavier, it didn't help that you looked to damn ravishing too — staring up at him through those pretty tear-soaked lashes, a pout settled on your lips — it made him want to bend you over his table and —

"f-fuck, hold still, pet —" dottore groaned, hips slamming against your plush ass from behind, gloved fingers digging deep into your hips to keep you in place. but how could he blame you? you were practically buzzing with arousal — hearts floating in your eyes as you drooled all over his desk.

"feels — mmh-! s'good," you slurred, a dumb smile finding it's way to your swollen lips when dottore sped up his pace, landing cruel slaps on your ass while you both get closer to your highs.

fuck, the damn aphrodisiac was taking its affect on him too — making his cock extra leaky and sensitive than usual, causing him to go even harder, and groan even louder into your ear. both of your bodies were covered in a sheen of sweat, dottore's hands finding your tits to pull and tweak at your nipples, before landing a mean slap on them, making you cry out in pained pleasure.

"f-faster — sir, please —!" dottore let out a guttural groan at the honorific, speeding his hips up at your request — broken moans leaving the both of you as he did.

"cum f'me, girl," dottore growled against your skin, palm of his gloved hand pushing your back further down into a mean arch — your ass bouncing with each thrust. as if right on cue, you squirted all over his cock, and the harbinger followed not long after — muttering curses in the snezhnayian language whilst spilling his load inside of you.

you two stayed like that, dottore's face buried in your neck — breathing in your sweet smell, pants leaving each other.

"..ain.."

dottore quirked an eyebrow, moving his face away — "come again?"

you looked back at him, eyes glazed over with lust and lashes clumping with dried tears, voice breathless as you let out a pitiful whimper — "again, fuck me again! — fill me up."

[justpenguin]

Some Genshin Men HCs

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: Pantalone, Dottore, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham

Notes: Character may be OOC ; SFW work

Pantalone

As the 9th harbinger and basically the person who funds the whole economy of Snezhnaya, Pantalone would be incredibly busy, so you may only see him during the night, when you two can bathe and spend time together, he's got all the best oils and soaps for you to use, darling

He'd be swooning if you'd let him ramble about his work and economics. He'd share so much gossip about his co-workers as he finishes washing up his face with you waiting for him on the bed, and oh, has he mentioned how there was this one man at the bank today that gave all his staff a huge headache? (He has.)

Dottore

You'd probably have to hang with this man in his lab, which is littered with experiments, vials, and constantly smells like iron or sanitizer, but at least you've got the segments down with you

Hates to admit it but he will get kinda jealous of his segments, they're basically him, so why not ditch the copy and come spend time with the original instead?

Might let you help him with some of the safer experiments that don't involve dissecting human bodies (unless you would like to, of course, he won't mind)

Neuvillette 

Would definitely take you around cafes in Fontaine or even to the Fountain of Lucine, after all, with so many responsibilities he has so little time to spend with you, so he'd try to make the most of every little moment

The melusines would follow you around (the shy ones would silently watch you from distances) and even offer to help you! They'll help carry your bags, give you an umbrella, or even give you small snacks! You are dating their found dad, after all

Wriothesley 

Will show you around the fortress and will even set up a small little section in his office just for you, don't you worry, he may look tough and aloof, but he's got all your favorite colors and knows exactly how you'd like your own little "work zone" 

You can assist Sigewinne and the other melusines to plaster stickers on him, they'll specially make some stickers of little you and Wriothesley with each other, he hates to peel those ones off

Will probably rig the cafeteria whenever you visit to give you the best meals there is

Al Haitham 

Would most probably meet you at the Akademiya, to others there he may still appear as reserved and cold to you, but there's no doubt he treats you softer, especially behind closed doors

Would enjoy picnics out with you and reading dates, he'd let you pick what snacks to bring and would pick whatever topic you're currently interested in to banter about

He'd probably do his best to delay the moment you'd have to meet Kaveh, but he knows he can only keep you from meeting him for so long, and plus, he'd like to show you around his house, would you ever consider moving in with him?

[averagelivingbeings]

Hot steamy broth

Bottom afab Jiaoqiu/Top amab Reader

You and Jiaoqiu first indulge in an aphrodisiac-laced stew he cooked up, before enjoying each other’s bodies.

Word Count: 3270

Tags: Afab Jiaoqiu, possibly ooc Jiaoqiu, xianxia AU, Jiaoqiu is your disciple and cook, Jiaoqiu is a little bitch, aphrodisiac, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, size difference, lots of fluids, light dom/sub, so much teasing, cunnilingulus, blow jobs, squirting, belly bulge

AFAB language used for Jiaoqiu

——————————————

“Ah, you’re here, master.” The pink-haired Huli Jing greeted you with a polite smile. In front of him, a savoury, creamy brew was boiling and bubbling gently in its metal pot over the flame. “Apologies, the soup isn’t finished yet.”

You gave him a polite nod, as you sat down at the table and straightened your robe. “Don’t worry about it, A-Qiu.” His tail raised up and swished happily at the pet-name. “What are we having tonight?”

“A creamy stew with coconut milk and bamboo strips.” Jiaoqiu paused, as he reached for something on the spice shelf, his hand hovering above a vial with a pink powder. His ears twitched in what you recognised as giddy anticipation. “… I wasn’t sure about your mood tonight, master, so I didn’t put anything in yet.”

You blinked at him, keeping your face and posture straight, as if he was just a child that thought its plan to trick its parents was exceptionally smart. “I don’t mind, A-Qiu. Put whatever you’d like into our stew. Then we can dine together.”

A blush clearly crept onto Jiaoqiu’s face, as the light of the red flames danced off of it. This was the first time you had suggested dining together, as even though your disciple usually cooked for you, you always ate separately. He wrapped his fingers tightly around the bottle with the pink powder and uncorked it, before pouring a generous amount of it into the stew and mixing it in. Almost immediately a strong, alluringly sweet scent filled the small room. You heard both your and Jiaoqiu’s breathing picked up, as a slight lightheadedness overcame you, when he placed two small bowls on the table filled with the stew.

A bit impatiently, Jiaoqiu sat down at the other side of the table and smiled at you. “Enjoy your meal, master~”

Setting down your folding fan, you smiled at him and placed your hands at the side of the bowl. “With you, A-Qiu.”

He returned the wicked smile and mirrored your actions, his twitching ears and swaying tail betraying his calm facade. “Of course.” The Huli Jing lifted his bowl, eagerly watching you do the same.

You held strict eye contact with him, feeling your disciple shrink into submission in excitement under his master’s watchful gaze, as both of you placed your bowls at your lips and began drinking up the steaming, hot liquid. It burned your throat like liquid fire, the sweet, sexy taste of the aphrodisiac Jiaoqiu added completely overpowering the spicy stew’s original flavour. You gulped it all down anyway, feeling the heat from the food settle in your stomach and the warmth from the aphrodisiac spread through your entire body until both master and disciple were a flushed, sweaty mess.

Jiaoqiu lost his cool far quicker and in a less dignified manner than you did, claws audibly digging into his clothed thighs, which he tried to subtly rub together. “M-Master…”, he whispered, lust written all over his flushed face and his tail impatiently swaying back and forth.

“What is it, A-Qiu?” You innocently tilted your head to the side with a gentle smile, hands on your lap to use the wide sleeves to hide your raging boner. Compared to your disciple, your breathing was still even and calm, as Jiaoqiu rose up from his knees to lean over the table.

“I want you, master~!”, he panted out, his breath smelled sweet and alluring, just like the aphrodisiac. His pupils were blown wide with lust and he stared at you, as if he was willing to pounce at any moment.

“Oh? Does my dearest head disciple not have any self-control to wait for his master to be ready?” You sighed in disappointment, seeing his tail flick in frustration, you both knew you were more than ready for action.

“No, master. Your disciple is very, very impatient tonight~”, Jiaoqiu practically purred, as he supported himself on the table and arched his back, showing off his subtle curves and flexibility. “And he’s afraid that tonight he just can’t resist~”

You observed him push the empty bowls away and lay down on the table to crawl over it and closer to you, resisting the urge to just grab him and rip his clothes off. You remained still though, letting him have his foreplay. “Then he should remember that he’s going to be severely punished for his misbehaviour later.”

“That’s a matter for later~ Mghhh~” By now Jiaoqiu has reached you and gotten up on all fours on the table to hungrily press his lips against yours. “Hahhh, nghhh~”

You willingly opened your mouth, letting his sweet tongue lap at your palate, not bothering to move in the slightest, as he climbed onto your lap. He threw his arms around your neck and started grinding his hips against yours or rather, against your hands still folded over your lap. Even through the multiple layers of clothing separating your skin from Jiaoqiu’s, you could feel the wet patch growing between his legs.

“Really, master?”, Jiaoqiu sighed into your kiss and pouted a little, his devious hand having found their way past yours to the leaking tip of your dick. “All dripping and hard, yet still no reaction? So stiff and stubborn.”

You just smiled. “You should know that it takes a lot more for me to just give in to your raunchy little games.”

“Tch. All this resistance for what?” Using your shoulders as support, Jiaoqiu lifted his hips up high enough to grind his clothed cunt against your tip. “You always enjoyed it in the end.”

“Mgh-!” You felt your resolve crumbling, he was definitely getting better at this game of riling each other up to a good fuck. “I’m sure you’ve figured it out already, clever as you are~” Your dick twitched in delight, when a slight frown flashed across Jiaoqiu’s face, showing that he very much has not figured it out yet.

“Hmp-!” With a light huff, he put his palm on your broad chest and pushed against it. Deciding to indulge him, you complied and let Jiaoqiu push you to the ground to lay comfortably on the hard wooden floor. You watched him hike up your robe, so your huge dick was visibly tenting your loose pants. Seeing you move your hands away to allow him access to it, the Huli Jing smiled deviously. “Oh, so that’s what it’s like, hm? Master just wants to see how far I’d go for him?” His smile grew into a nearly manic grin. “Well, I can just say, I don’t have any limits~” With that, he pulled down his robe, revealing the bare, creamy skin of his toned shoulders, the supple mounds of his tits and his beautifully soft abs, until the robe completely fell off of his body along with the sash tying it in place.

“What a beautiful disciple I have~” With a hum, you shamelessly reached up to squeeze Jiaoqiu’s sides, your hand dwarving his fairly broad build. You felt his tummy move beneath your fingers, as he shifted and panted, skin unbearably hot from arousal.

“Ahh~” He squirmed, when you placed both hands on his waist, your thumbs and forefingers nearly touching around it. “You act like this is the first time you see me nude, master.”

“And does that mean I must stop appreciating my disciple’s beauty?” You loosened your grip a little, allowing him to shimmy out of his pants and throw them to the side along with his shoes.

“I suppose not… Mghh…~” A light moan left Jiaoqiu’s lips, as he touched his lower belly, rubbing his crotch right above his throbbing clit. You slid the tips of your calloused fingers over the smooth skin of his hips over to his crotch, flattening two underneath his pussy for him to grind against. “Anghh~” Jiaoqiu moaned, rutting against your fingers, as he reached down to undo your sash and discard the pesky piece of clothing behind him.

“You’re so wet… And I’m barely even touching you”, you remarked, a gasp leaving your mouth, when your disciple unceremoniously pulled your robes aside to grope your chest. Your bulging pecs dwarved his slender hands, as he dug his nails into the soft flesh and kneaded them like dough.

“Nghhaaahhh~” Jiaoqiu threw his head back and pushed his hips down harder on your fingers, when you curled them slightly and allowed them to slip into his cunt. “S-Speak for yourself, master-!” He moaned, hips stuttering slightly, as he pushed his ass back against the rather large patch at the tent in your pants. His hole was clamping down on your thick fingers, the large digits spreading him out far better than his could ever dream of.

“Now, now, watch your manners”, you tutted him with a harsh curl of your fingers inside of him, digging them deeper into him and punching an ecstatic groan out of him. “Me being knuckles-deep inside of you doesn’t give you permission to act up.” His cunt squeezed you even harder at the words and you could swear he was sucking you in with all of his might.

Licking his lips hungrily, Jiaoqiu moved his hands to your abs, as he arched his back. “Sorry, master~” He didn’t seem sorry at all, when he lifted himself off of your fingers to slide your pants down and free the monster of a cock that had been desperately leaking into the fabric the whole time. Jiaoqiu traced the shaft in awe, admiring the bulging veins running along it. Two of his fingers teasingly rubbed over your tip, collecting the pre-cum and spreading it around. “So big and hard~ A shame that it’s attached to such a stubborn master~”

“Nghh-!” You bucked your hips lightly, your cock sliding against his fingers and getting a bit of pre-cum over the shaft. “Take matters into your own hand, if you don’t like how I’m doing it.”

“Tch, of course.” His hand wrapped around your shaft, slowly stroking it and covering it in your fluids. His fingers could barely encircle your base completely and Jiaoqiu seemed to like that just as much as you did, based on how he leered at it lustfully. “Anghhh~” Rubbing your cock against his cunt, he pushed it against his pink entrance, barely letting the red tip slide in and clenching around it, before pulling out again.

“A-Qiu…” You grunted, nails digging into his waist, adding more bruises to the ones your hands had already left on his creamy skin.

“Hahhh, so good~” With a moan, Jiaoqiu fully sank down on your length, his wet heat clamping down on you like a vice. The aphrodisiac has made you so sensitive, it felt as though a single thrust deep inside of him could make you cum already. His pussy was fluttering around you, desperately trying to suck you back in, even as he lifted himself up slowly and dropped back down.

“You’re so tight, A-Qiu…”, you gritted out, enraptured by the sight of your disciple riding you, his wet cunt speared open to its limits around your cock, as it kept going in and out. Your thumbs brushed over a bump in his stomach and your breath hitched when you realised that it was your dick there.

“Can you feel it?~” Jiaoqiu panted, placing his smaller hand on yours to guide it to the bulge in his abdomen that appeared every time he thrusted downwards. “Master, you’re so deep~”

“Ngh, A-Qiu…!” With a grunt, you held his hips in place to thrust up into him, disregarding the will to let him put on a show for you. His entire body jolted at the sudden stimulation and he shook in your hands. You let him position himself comfortably on top of you, before propping your knees up and pounding into him from below.

“Ohhhh, yesss, yes, yes, master-!” Jiaoqiu blabbered, burning eyes turning hazy, as he dug his nails into your flexing abs, his tail swishing behind him in satisfaction. His cunt was tight and inviting and you made sure to thrust and grind into each of his sensitive spots inside, turning the Huli Jing into a moaning mess. “Faster-!”

“You’re not- Unghh~! Making demands here-!” You complied anyway, speeding up your thrusts into him. The force behind it had his ears bouncing wildly and his tail was swishing around more erratically, signalling his upcoming orgasm.

“Nghhh, c-come inside, master-!”, Jiaoqiu demanded, squirming in your firm grasp to thrust down on your huge cock and keep it inside of him. His fingers were digging bruises into your belly and his hair was falling so beautifully over his shoulders, as his swollen pussy took your dick like it was made for it.

“Hahhh, I- Mghhghhh~!” A particularly harsh thrust deep into your disciple sent you over the edge, the bliss temporarily blinding you, as your cock spurted a big load right into Jiaoqiu’s cunt.

“Master-! Nghhaahhh!” He followed with a yell, cunt clenching down on you even harsher than before and squirting all over you.

“Ungh-!” Some of his spent landed right in your mouth and you eagerly ate it up, enjoying the sweet, musky taste of his pussy. As your vision returned, you blinked at him, seeing that your dick made no effort to soften and his cunt was still as swollen and wet as ever. Even with how he clamped down on you, leaving not even the slightest gap between your dick and his walls, your load was starting to seep out of him.

“Keep it inside-!” Jiaoqiu huffed, trying to close his legs to prevent it from spilling out.

“Come here, A-Qiu”, you commanded him softly, dragging him off of your cock and guiding him into a new position. Your disciple squirmed a little, but soon complied, when he found out what you were planning.

“Mm, I like the idea of dessert~”, he purred, his swaying tail accidentally smacking your face, as you lowered his pussy towards your face. His thighs were caging in your head, efficiently suffocating you, but nose-deep in a wet cunt was a death you could live with, if you didn’t care for dignity.

“Don’t be greedy, A-Qiu. Only one portion for now”, you mumbled, unable to resist the delicious sight of your cum dripping out of his pink pussy like sweet cream.

“If you say so, master~” Thin fingers curled around the base of your cock and not a second later, a kiss was placed on your tip. Feeling your dick twitch at that, you mirrored the gesture and kissed Jiaoqiu’s clit, before using your thumbs to spread his labia open and catching the savoury mix of cum and pussy juice with your mouth. “Mghhh~”

It didn’t take long until wet, obscene slurping sounds filled the room, Jiaoqiu’s lips stretched taut around your shaft, as he eagerly sucked on your cock like it was a sweet treat. Meanwhile your mouth was devouring his dripping cunt, eating up the mix of both of your fluids like a starved man.

You could feel his pussy clenching around your tongue, when you finally entered it, having eaten up most of your fluids inside of him by now. Once your cum was gone, you could truly get a taste of your disciple’s hungry pussy and on god, you were loving it. He tasted sweet and musky, a nicely masculine and alluring taste that suited Jiaoqiu perfectly.

“Mghhh~ Such a big treat~” You heard him mumble, as he pulled off of your cock to lick his slick off of the base and the shaft where he couldn’t reach, when sucking you off. His devious, little fingers quickly found your balls and started squeezing and playing with them like marbles.

“Ngh-! Don’t play with your food, A-Qiu-!” You jolted at his touch, bucking your hips up and pushing your cock against his face. Burying your face in his cunt, you slipped one thumb into his soaked hole from above, while tonguing at the hood of his clit.

“Ahhh~ S-Sorry, master~” Again, Jiaoqiu didn’t sound very sorry, as he kept fondling your balls and stroking your base, as he went back to suckling at your tip.

You groaned and dug your nails into his plush thigh, having to hold his hips in place, as he greedily tried to suffocate you with his pussy. Wrapping your lips around his clit, you began sucking eagerly, listening to his whines and gasps, as he struggled to take your dick down his throat.

You shifted a little, trying to wring your thumb deeper into his hole, and curling it inside to assault his sweet spot. From the way he jolted and tightened around your dick every time you moved your finger, it seemed to be working.

“Nghhh~” Drunk on lust and pleasure, you loosened your grip on the Huli Jing’s thigh and let him fully squash your face with his cunt. With a muffled grunt, you started ravishing his pussy, replacing your thumb with your tongue, as you grabbed the base of his tail and stroked it.

“Aaamghhh~” Jiaoqiu’s response was almost immediate, a high-pitched keen, which was quickly choked back down his throat as you bucked your hips up to slam your cock into his face. You felt his whole body quiver and shake, as you set a ruthless pace, hearing him choke and gasp from the rapid thrusts. The movements caused his hips to bear down further on your face and despite already feeling light-headed from lack of oxygen, you kept tongue-fucking him.

“Mgghhh, hhhh-!” Your hips stuttered a little and a muffled yell went right against your disciple’s cunt, as you came right down his tight throat. Jiaoqiu moaned in response, eagerly drinking up all of your cum.

His thighs tightened around your head, threatening to crush it like a watermelon, as his hips bore down on your face and by now practically grinded his cunt against your mouth, until he came with a shout. “Ahh, fuck-! Nghhh, master-!” Jiaoqiu lifted himself off of your nose just enough for you to give you a small breather, before immediately squirting all over it and soaking you in his juices.

“Urghhh-!” Reflexively, you opened your mouth and clenched your eyes shut, drinking up the sweet, alluring liquid that landed on your tongue. Almost instantly, Jiaoqiu settled back down against your face, languidly riding out his orgasm, as he swirled his tongue around your sensitive cockhead.

“A-Qiu…”, You mumbled after a while, tugging at his tail to get him off of you. Despite those two intense orgasms, your body was still burning up from arousal and your dick was still hard and erect as if you never came.

“Mghhh, you tasted good, master~” His tail swayed in your grasp, as Jiaoqiu pulled away from your cock and arched his back. He lifted his hips, letting out an amused snort, upon seeing your red face soaked in his juices.

“Look at the mess you made, A-Qiu.” You tutted him, sitting up, as the Huli Jing turned around and climbed onto your lap, squeezing your dick in-between your hot bellies, while he straddled your thigh.

“Sorry, master~” Jiaoqiu batted his eyelashes, still not a trace of remorse in his yellow eyes, as he leaned forward and kissed you. “I’ll clean it up for you~”

You hummed in approval, closing your eyes and kneading his ass, as his tongue lapped up his juices and he ground his hips down on your bare thigh.

You were wondering whether the night was long enough for you and your disciple to properly fuck all of the aphrodisiac out of your systems.

[strangesthirdeye]

Late Night Potions ( Severus Snape x Wife! Reader)

Summary: There are times when they are safe but still remind them of bitter thing.

Warning: it's Severus Snape, he's always slay, soft Severus, love, fluff, sweet, Severus being a good husband, ooc Severus Snape? Cannot sleep.. Severus survived Battle of Hogwarts.

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Another stir clockwise and one more peppermint, The calming draughts Severus made finally turned brown meaning it was ready. He grabbed the glass vial that was placed not far from where he was brewing and opened the lid of the vial and slowly he scooped the potion with a spoon then put it in the vial.

The clock showed 3 in the morning and Severus was still in his potion room in his own house which was a bit late for brewing something at that time but it was Severus of course he had time to brew something. Well, the reality is that he can't catch a wink of sleep directly, making him stare at the ceiling of the bedroom he and you share. While you were soundlessly sleeping, Severus decided to get out of bed without keeping you awake and decided to make some light potions to make himself tired so he could easily fall asleep.

But still, after the 3 potions he made and all the process of putting the three potions into the vial, he still couldn't catch his sleepiness and that made him frustrated.

The eye bags under his eyes are visible while his face is definitely tired but the strange thing is that he can't sleep even though his body language clearly shows that he needs to sleep.

He sighed tiredly then closed the glass vial and placed the potions on the other potions shelf according to the label. He rubbed his face trying to remove the fog from his eyes which indicated that he needed to sleep. He then swished his wand to carefully pack the potions tools on the table. And standby for the 4th brewing potions.

Severus then swished his wand towards the ingredient cabinet for the potion he wanted to make, which was the Blood Replenishing potion. All ingredients are floated and gently placed on the table. Severus then cleaned the standby cauldron and placed it on the bunsen burner. He then opened the bunsen burner with a small flame and cast Aguamenti into the cauldron and miraculously the cauldron was filled with water according to the prescribed measure.

While he waited for the water to heat for 5 minutes, he started flipping through his potions book to idly even though he was skilled and memorized all the potions he made, he still needed the potions book to be sure. Sometimes he will add some useful notes to the book so that when he teaches, he can teach students more efficiently.

After 5 minutes, he then reached the dew and was ready to be placed in the cauldron but stopped when he felt a hand hugging his abdomen from behind. He was stunned but then relieved when he found out it was you.

You who had just woken up from sleep after discovered that Severus was not in the bed hugged Severus' back tightly in a still sleepy state. Severus knew that you couldn't sleep without him because he knew that you still imagined him disappearing and never coming back after the terrible Battle of Hogwarts that happened a few months ago. Although Severus survived Nagini's attack and was put in St's Mungos for two months to recover from snake venom, you are still afraid that he will be gone.

Severus stiffened shoulders dropped then he leaned against your touch. Savoring the warm temperature from your body. He sighed tiredly. His hands that holding the potions ingredients were placed on the table and his fingers rubbed the back of your hand that wrapped around his abdomen. The flame of the Bunsen burner was extinguished by him.

"It's 3 am and you're brewing potions" you mumbled behind his shoulder.

"Just want to make myself tired so that I can sleep well" Severus said lowly in his deep tone.

"Nightmare?" You parted away from his shoulder and leaned the side of your head behind him.

"Incredulity" Severus sighed.

"Incredulity with what?" You questioned with perplexity.

"That we both survive that battle" Severus muttered.

You raised your head and instantly faced him. Your face looked up at his face. His tired eyes that clearly make you concerned with his state. You and him still have a traumatic experience from the battle, which makes you both uneasy when the matter is mentioned. It's lucky you both survived even though Severus had to be admitted to the hospital and you suffered several injuries that left scars that made you think how lucky you both were to survive the battle. It also means that you two are very strong to survive the battle.

You softened your look and reached Severus' sharp cheek and stroked it gently. Severus closed his eyes and leaned against your warm palm.

"I also wonder how we can survive that battle but that's the story line. We both survive with the hope that we both can be together. All the things we went through together before and after that battle are the main pillars of our strength. We survive because we know that we are need this 'life'." You replied softly, caressing Severus' cheek.

Severus let out a heavy sigh. "the things we went through, what if one of us didn't survive the battle? What if the battle was just a dream? What if I lost you?"

"stop it, Sev. Ignore those negative thoughts. We are both safe and alive. Voldermort and the Death Eater are gone. You don't need to be a double agent to know the plans of both parties. You are who you are now. We are both safe and sound without any obstacles . We have each other." you firmly said.

Severus leaned his forehead against yours with his eyes closed.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Severus whispered in a husky and deep tone that always made your knees tremble hearing that even though the two of you had been together for almost 6 years.

"You didn't do anything. It's me who came to you and saved you and you accept me as I am" you whispered back.

[queenpiranhadon]

𝕬/𝕹: AHHH I'M SO HAPPY THIS EVENT CAME TOGETHER BIG THANK YOU TO ALL THE WRITERS IN THIS EVENT I LOVE YOU ALL SMMM 🤍 In case you couldn't tell, this is set in the world of Wonderland- though I've never read the books so please bear with me 😭 Here's the event masterlist for those who want to read the rest in the collection!

𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌(𝖘): Cursing, mentions of death and decapitation, starvation, mentions of vomit but no physical vomit, Bakugou kisses you w/o consent BUT it's not bad I promise, soft Bakugou (maybe a little ooc but just bear with me here), incomplete plot, reader has a cat and a big family, reader is gender neutral but is written with f!reader in mind, Bakugou calls reader idiot.

𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Loneliness, you came to find out, was an enveloping emotion, overwhelming and suffocating with no way out- it was a feeling you’d come to hate. 

Growing up in a big family, you were used to the neglect and isolation to a certain extent, but you never minded it. Now- you wanted to scream. 

Though it wasn’t loneliness as the main issue so much as your impending death waiting for you outside of these cell bars. 

It was cold, metal stinging your skin- you were starving, so nauseous you wanted to throw up, but you couldn’t, in fear you’d lose the little amount of food you already had. 

How did you get here in the first place?!

It was a stupid question- you knew how you got here, but everything felt so…surreal. Like everything had happened, but not to you. 

You had been at home, reading, before your cat and escaped the house again, prompting you to chase it. Watching your cat run down the street, you sprint after it, terrified of what may happen if a car comes down the road. In your tunnel vision however, you don’t notice the open manhole below you, and you fall, down,

down

down

down 

Down a rabbit hole that seems endless, with the strangest assortment of objects and creatures floating around you, as if stuck in time. You reach the bottom, finding a hall of doors, your eye catching onto a small locked one whose key was on a nearby table - along with a bottle marked DRINK ME and a piece of cake labeled EAT ME. 

At first, you panic, wondering where you are, tears threatening to spill over until you force yourself to take a deep breath and calm down.

You unlock the small door, only to see a beautiful garden on the inside, wanting to go see it, but annoyingly, you couldn’t fit through the door. Pocketing the tiny key, you rose up to your normal height, looking for a way to find an entrance- there must’ve been a way.

Eyes trailing back to the bottle and cake, you wonder if that’s how you’d enter. You had nothing to lose- there was no way back up the hole you’d fallen through. 

But you didn’t feel like dying - on the off chance it was poison. 

What would happen, you wondered, if you mixed the cake with the liquid?

You weren’t sure what would happen, maybe everything would explode - but then again, you really had no other choice. And so, you break the cake apart, and drop the pieces into the bottle, shaking it thoroughly, before bolting to the other end of the hallway.

There’s a rumbling, before the bottle explodes, glass shards sent flying everywhere as the liquid in the vial starts flowing out like a tap, the concoction you had made started pooling at your ankles, and then kept rising, to the point where you had to tread to keep your head afloat. 

The waters slowly shift, the hall of mirrors and the landscape around you changing, until you find yourself swimming to a seashore. Everything made no sense, your reality warping and things that should happen were happening- you honestly just felt so dizzy.

You were traveling for days after that, looking for something to eat, until one day, you stumbled across some tarts, and in a moment of desperation, you ate them- as you were on the brink of dying from starvation. 

What you didn’t know, is that those tarts belonged to the queen, the Queen of Hearts, and now you were facing execution for your trials.

Which is why now, in your cell, you sit- awaiting the end of your life.

You wonder how your cat is doing. 

TIme was hard to keep track of, considering you had no window, and no interaction with anyone. They didn’t feed you, and you had no bed, leaving you to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling.

You just wanted to go home…

One day however, you hear a sharp knock at the door to your cell and you jump abruptly, turning your head to find the source of the sound. 

A man, with blonde hair and piercing red eyes stood at your door, his locks spiked and you could see the urgency in his expression. 

“Oi, take this.” he whispers harshly, shoving a loaf of bread between the rungs of the cell’s gated wall and you take it gratefully, staring at him in shock. 

“Who-” you start, but he’s already gone. 

It went on like that for almost months, the strange man visiting you to bring you food every now and then, whether it be fresh bread, fruit, he even brought you cake once. 

It was strange, you knew, but you greatly appreciated his kindness, you only wished he stuck around- you longed for some company.

And then one day, everything came crashing down. 

The day of your execution. 

A hooded figure came to your cell that morning with a sack for your head and ropes to bind you with. And at his side was the ax that you knew would be the one cutting through your neck.

You felt sick.

Was this all just some twisted, horrible nightmare?

The figure unlocks your cell door, and you curl up into a ball in the corner, knowing what was going to come. But the figure doesn’t leave from the door, instead, they lift a gloved hand to take down their hood- to reveal those same vermillion eyes that had provided you with food.

“Wha- it’s you?!” you blurt out, your eyes widening when you realize. “Y-You’re supposed to kill me, aren’t you…?”

The man doesn’t say anything, turning his head to the side, but his eyes end up trailing back to you, raking over your form and taking in your state. 

“C’mon. We’re going.” the executioner says, holding out his hand - an offering, a chance. 

You stare at it, unbelieving. Was this some cruel trick? Would he turn you in? But the look in his eyes was genuine, a man who was capable of kindness, but thrown into a world that he couldn’t show it.

That hand, the one he was extending to you, had been used to take the lives of people, living beings. You wondered if it ever got any easier. 

You put your hand in his, and he pulls you up- but your malnourished body couldn’t support your weight immediately, and so you stumble, directly into the blonde’s arms.

“Ah, I’m so sorry I-” you fret, but he sighs, and adjusts your arms to lean on him. 

“Just shut up idiot, yer gonna get us both caught.” he grumbles, and you wince at his harsh words, but know he’s right.

You both slip out of the cell, shutting the door quietly before sneaking down the hallway, where the man said there was a secret stairwell that led to the yard, where the both of you could hide until the coast was clear. 

You reach it at the end of the hallway, only for you to hear footsteps at the end of the corridor. 

Shit!

The man grabs you and bolts for a nearby room- but your feet can’t keep up - moment your enveloped by darkness, you lose your footing- about to fall over and let out a yelp before a pair of warm lips comes in contact with yours, keeping you quiet.

You couldn’t see- but you knew that if you did, your face would be bright red right now- put off by the fact that you weren’t disturbed by the stranger kissing you, and more the fact that you… liked it?

His strong arms were wrapped securely around your waist, preventing your fall, and you can’t help but melt into his touch. 

Outside you hear voices. 

“Hey- have you seen Bakugou? He was supposed to come to the throne room with the prisoner a while ago.” one asks.

“No… maybe we should check the prisoner’s cell.” the other one replies, and you hear the two men retreat.

The man, who you now know as Bakugou, pulls away, and wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling you out of the room and up the stairwell. 

“Hurry.” he gruffly says, and you comply, dazed - still a hot mess from the kiss you shared. 

The two of you ran up the stairwell, to freedom, trying to keep from your steps echoing throughout the castle. 

Deciding to save both of your from the awkwardness, you don’t address the elephant in the room. Instead you ask something else. 

“Why…why are you helping me?” your voice barely above a whisper. 

Bakugou doesn’t stop running up the stairs though, only halting when he sees the top. 

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I…I don’t know.” he admits, looking away, giving you the opportunity to admire his side profile, taking notices of his ears which were tinged red. 

“Are you- are you blushing?” you tease, and he glares at you. 

“Shut up- idiot- is this how ya repay me?! I was supposed ta kill ya for heaven’s sake.” he glowered and you smile sheepishly in return. 

“Sorry… I just…” you trail off, unsure of what to say. “Thank you.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen and he scoffs, his face becoming slightly redder as he wraps your arm around him, giving you more support. 

“Whatever idiot- it’s not like I’m doing ya some charity here. I know ya don’t deserve this and frankly- the queen’s an old hag.”

His insult to the Queen of Hearts catches you off guard, bursting into quiet giggles -  not noticing the small smile that forms on Bakugou’s face, though it disappears as quickly as it comes. 

“We should probably get goin’ - they’ll be lookin’ for us soon.” he mutters, and you nod in assent stepping out into the yard, one step closer to freedom. 

Hopefully your cat hasn’t run out of food yet.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @cashmoneyyysstuff @starieq @lovelyiida @lady-ashfade @angels-fantasy

@seonne @sweetnans @vexis-world @2melamoo2 @tootiecakes234

@4evapika

[rosebudfics]

please can you write a severusx wife reader ;they are sick and take care of them selves

also one of severus being a girl dad when she is a baby and he spends a day with her

Sick Days

Severus Snape x wife reader

Warnings: reader is slightly shorter than snape, suggestive, Snape is a lil ooc

A/N: AHH my first request!! Thanks for sending it in!! I'm going to be splitting this request into two parts, so this one will be about them being sick and the next one I post will be about Snape being a dad! Enjoy~

It had started out with a small cough, but quickly turned into a horrible cold. You were trying to keep your distance from Severus so he wouldn't catch it. Severus brushed off your attempts with an eye roll and he walked up to you with a small vial.

"Here, this should help." He said, before handing it to you.

You sighed before drinking it, then handing it back to him. "Thanks, Sev."

He bent down to kiss you on the lips but you stopped him. "You're gonna get sick, no kissing!"

Severus scoffed. "Oh please, I think I'll survive." He then bent back down to kiss you a soft kiss. He gripped at your waist, before moving to kiss down your jaw, his hand gripping yours as he played with the ring he had put on your finger years ago that bound you together.

You giggled slightly and tried to weakly push him off. "Sev.."

But eventually you caved when you started to feel better and let him have his way for the rest of the night.

........................................

The next morning, you were sprawled out on the bed with the blankets thrown off of you. You groaned and went to wipe your face, but cringed when you felt how clammy you felt. But at least you didn't have as much of a stuffy nose!

You looked over beside you only to find Severus wasn't in bed with you. You glanced over at the bathroom to hear him blowing his nose profusely. You laughed softly as you got up and padded over to the bathroom.

You peeked your head in, and his face was red as he looked over at you. You were smirking but he only rolled his eyes.

"Shut up." He grumbled.

You giggled and walked over behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. "I told you that you would get sick"

"Yes.. however, it was worth it," Severus had a small smile despite his voice sounding congested, as he drank down the potion he gave you yesterday. He then turned around and wrapped his arms around you, having to lean down slightly.

You let out a content sigh as you closed your eyes. "What do you want for breakfast?"

"I can make it-"

"No, shush. You're more sick than I am right now," You pulled away slightly to look up at him. "How about some sausages and scrambled eggs?"

Severus sighed but nodded. "Yes, thats alright love"

"Good, because I wasn't going to give you an option," You smiled, and then made your way to the kitchen downstairs. When you reached the kitchen you started cooking.

Severus was dressed when he came downstairs and he sat at the kitchen table. His eyes followed you as you made your way around the kitchen, a soft smile on his face.

"You're too good to me." He said almost to himself as he leaned forward to place his elbows on the table.

"You deserve only the best, Severus." You smiled over at him as you poured the eggs in the pan.

His eyes softened at that, not believing you but he didn't object. He then stood up and wrapped his arms around you but kept his face away from yours. "I love you, you know that right?"

"Yes. And I love you more," You leaned up and placed a soft kiss to his lips.

He flinched. "Did you not learn either? Now you're going to be sick again"

You shrug, smiling and going back to making the eggs. "What was it you said earlier?...'it was worth it' "

Severus let out a soft smile, but then moved his head away as he let out a loud sneeze.

[ttulipwritezz]

King Of My Heart (Body And Soul)~ R. Lupin.

Chapter 2 -  Expectations

Ootp! Remus Lupin x Sirius's sister!Reader

Synopsis: When James and Lily died, and your brother was sent to Azkaban, Remus was the only person you have left. Until he left too. What happens when he returns after the events of Sirius's escape, only to find out you have a son? A son that's his.

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: lots of italics, probably grammatical mistakes, might be ooc idk, child (?), fem reader, italics are flashbacks ( idk), love (ew), Sirius is back, [ look at series masterlist for all content warnings]

A/n: This is more of the backstory and how they came to be, along with lots of awkwardness from both ends, I promise there's more remus in the next chapter <3 oh and reunion with Sirius and thanks to @lixzey for making me wanna push the awkwardness~ :) If you enjoyed this please reblog and comment :)

Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist, Navigation

You and Remus were in love, you had been in love for 6 years.

Everyone knew you'd be endgame, and your brother hated it, to an extent.

Sirius loved that his little sister was happy, that she had joy in her life after the roughness of their family life. But he was scared, scared because he knew how much Remus would push people away, push himself away.

He didn’t want you hurt. But you were.

~

You found out in October, two weeks before Halloween.

You had been talking with Lily through letters back and forth, discussing your recent morning nausea and sickness.

She had asked when was the last time you and Remus had slept together, strange you considered that question, you replied a week ago at most.

Her letter came back with the words "you might be pregnant, dear...why don't you take this potion i sent along?"

And along with it there was a potion in a small vial with a piece of parchment guiding you through the process.

All you had to do was drink half of the potion and wait for the other half to shift hues.

And sure enough, the once rust coloured potion soon turned blue, signalling your current state.

You were carrying Remus's child, a child you hadn't talked about, a child you were sure you weren't ready for.

~

It was now hallows eve, the day you thought you had worked up the courage to tell Remus.

Children around town had just finished trick or treating and your husband was bringing back the basket with remaining candy.

He came into the bedroom with you and went straight to the shower, promising to return in a bit.

Your eyes heavy with sleep, you sit down on the edge of the bed, waiting for Remus to come out of the bathroom.

He sees them on your trousers before in your eyes, your tears. His brows furrowed in concern and pity as he looked at your face, eyes dull with sorrow and fear, so uncharacteristic of your usual glimmer and joy.

"What's the matter, dove?" He asks, voice slightly hoarse from the drowsiness in the back of his mind.

You don't answer, only look at him like you're out of words. You're thinking, thinking what a little Remus would look like, how they’d have the same nose, probably his same freckles dusting their face, and the same sandy locks of hair with deep roots.

You wonder if he'd want this, a kid, if this could be the one thing Remus would give up the world for.

"Come here, darling" he says and takes your body into his, nuzzling your face in the warmth of his polyester sweater. He understands, he always does.

That's how you sleep that night, unaware of the chaos that was soon to follow.

~

Remus rushed out of bed the moment  the potter's deer patronus knocked on the window.

The white buck stopped at the foot of his bed and let out a call of help, soon disintegrating to mist after.

That night Remus lost three friends, you lost a brother to azkaban and you lost Remus.

He left the morning after. With your heart shattered to pieces, you let him go.

Your mind screamed at you to tell him. Tell him and maybe he'd stay. Tell him and maybe he'd reconsider. But your heart, ever the kind one, ever the selfless one, let him go. In hopes that one day you'd see him again.

Remus was half expecting you to slam the door in his face. To make a face of absolute disgust and just lock him out. But of course the other half of him was longing to hold you, see you after so long. So it came as a welcome surprise when you widened the door and let him inside.

 "Uhm...come in, please, we were expecting you" You said,  trying not to let your voice waver.

Remus felt so awkward. His hands were clammy, his posture was stiff and his jaw was clenched. He felt like he couldn't move, no more than if he had been hit with the petrificus curse.

You weren't in a much better predicament yourself. You could feel your eyes pricking with tears at the mere sight of him. The same man who left you. The man you let go. The man you still loved.

As he made his way inside the house you let your eyes roam across his figure. His hands were littered in large scars, far bigger than those you'd seen before. His face was shrunken, eyes hollower than you remembered. His smile lines were far more prominent now and his sandy brown hair had a few streaks of grey littered throughout.

"Where is the rest of the order? Where's sirius?" Why did you leave? Why are you back? How are you? You had so many questions but the rest were best kept to yourself.

 "They're on the way, I was just...early" I wanted to see you. 

Remus hated himself for leaving you. He wanted to tell you that. He regretted each night, even more so on full moons. After leaving the realisation of what he had done dawned on him, it was already  too late.

Alas, by the time he had worked up the courage to talk, You were already making your way across the hall to embrace your brother who had just arrived.

When did he get there? How consumed in his thoughts was Remus?

You greeted Sirius with a hug and a look-over of his whole figure. His posture was shrunken, eyes even hollower than Remus's and instead of his signature smirk, only a ghost of a smile was left on his face.

A feeling of guilt consumed you. Your brother was back after azkaban. Innocent. And your mind was all consumed by Remus.

You ushered the rest of the order inside and told Regulus to pack up his things and clear out the living room. The confused and curious glances you got from everyone did little to ease your nerves.

Sirius pulled you aside. You prepared yourself for the conversation you knew was to follow.

“Who’s that?” 

It was a valid question, Sirius was well aware that Remus had left that night. After their teary reunion, the werewolf had gotten an earful from the oldest Black. He was shocked and thought that  you had found someone new, unlike Remus, Sirius was quick to notice the similarities between the small boy and you. He deduced that he was your son.

“Uhm- He’s my son.”

You were staring at your feet, and your hands were fidgety.

There was a long pause. The silence was so loud you could hear the clock ticking.

“I…I have a nephew?” His words came out uncertain. Cautious and slow.

With a hum you replied “His name is Regulus. Regulus Jace.” You left out the last name. Legally he was a lupin. And so were you. But it wasn’t that hard to conceal that at hogwarts.

At the mention of his little brother, Sirius seemed to grimace. But he put a smile on.

“You named him after Reggie?-” He asked. And continued as you opened your mouth to answer.

“Who’s..who’s the father?” He didn’t want to assume the worst. He was happy, truely he was. After that “bastard” (as he put it) left you it was only fair. No matter how much he ached to see the two of you together again.

“It is Remus.” You replied, vulnerability lacing your voice.

His face seemed to light up, eyes widening, both in shock and delight. Before he would alert the whole house, however, you let him know one more thing.

“He doesn’t know. Neither of them do. I haven’t told them.” 

Your chest felt heavy, and your throat seemed to close up. It was hard for you to talk about. Despite being married you and Remus had never talked about kids, let alone with your friends. The feelings of contempt and guilt surrounded you.

Next thing you know, Sirius is pulling you in for a hug, securely wrapping his arms around you and trying to soothe your worries. His right hand wraps around your back as his left brushes against your hair in a calming manner.

It all comes crashing down. The weight of the lies, the guilt, the fear, the hatred. You cannot hold back the tears that rush down your face. A sob rakes though your body. You feel so much, everything, all at once, joy, relief, contempt, familiarity of an embrace.

But most of all...love. Love you haven’t felt in fourteen years.

Series Taglist (open): @twilightlover2007 @idli-dosa @lovesanimals0000 @deathbyramennoodle-s @deadgirlsrunning @lovelyypythoness General Taglist (open): @desikudisworld @iamgayforyourmom1510

Please Reblog if you liked this~

[lovelybarnes]

Truth- B. Barnes

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader Warnings: truth serum, ooc (its so hard keeping bucky and a truth serum in the same fic?) About: truth serum, request. (ph1+df31) Forgive for mistakes. why do i kind of hate this now

“Where’s this thing supposed to be again?”

Not missing a beat, you continue to survey the wide lab table in front of you, deft fingers careful when they tilt small vials at an angle so you can squint at the contents. “Things. Where are these things supposed to be.”

“Things, then,” Sam mutters, a fragile clinking noise following.

“Be careful,” you chirp, cocking your head at a thick tube with thick, dark liquid. You hold it up to the light, finally able to read the contents. “Whoa.”

“What?” 

“Did you know Hydra made hair nutrients, essentially? This is, like, the evil solution to baldness.”

“You’re kidding,” Sam crows, stepping closer to examine what you’re holding.

“High amounts of minoxidil, some weird fungus, and something that sounds like finasteride on steroids. Also, probably steroids.”

“Bet they could make a fortune on it.”

“If it works in a way approved by the FDA. Like I said, evil solution.” You grimace and set it back on the desk. “Did you find anything yet?”

“No. There’s slime and weird little liquids everywhere but no big-ass, weirdly-shaped tube marked deadly,” Sam grumbles, nose wrinkling as he catches sight of a limp plant. “Do you think that’s a normal dead plant? Or something freaky and poisonous?”

“Probably the latter,” you hum. “And I really, really doubt Hydra would be so stupid as to have the most cliched image of a toxin representing their mysterious poison.” You pause at a large, bumpy glass. “This one is pretty weird,” you say contrastingly, carefully picking it up with two gloved fingers. “Von innen brennt,” you read.

“What does that mean?” Sam asks.

“Burn from within.” You inhale sharply, and tuck it into your chemical storage container. “I really don’t think we should be leaving this in here,” you reason.

“I don’t think we should be leaving anything in here,” Sam adds, pointing to another bottle. “Weltschmerz,” he recites. “What’s that?”

“It’s… it’s apathy. There’s no good translation but it literally means ‘world pain,’” you frown as you grab it, too, twisting it in your fingers. “Bruce and I are going to have a field day.” You tuck it inside the container and purse your lips. “In a morose way.”

Sam shoots you a quick look. “Right.”

You bring your index to your ear and connect to Bucky’s channel. “Hey, how’re you doing?”

“I fuckin’ hate Hydra.”

“Yeah, it’s not great over here, either. We still have that huge lab to check over; are you done with yours?”

“Yeah, I’ll meet you there.”

You confirm, scanning the room once more and sighing softly. “Be careful, okay?”

“I am.”

“Then continue,” you quip, narrowing your eyes at a fat bottle with a tiny opening, translucent candy red sticky inside of it. You poke it to teeter so you can see the label, seeing something unintelligible but missing the necessary ideogram. “We’re not even sure what this stuff is yet.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out the moment you see it,” Bucky comforts. Your face heats up, lips pulled to one side as you avoid Sam’s raised eyebrow.

“Right,” you mumble, straightening up. “Uh, we should probably head over there now.”

“Right,” Sam parrots, long and curved with a smile.

You shoot him a look over your shoulder as you walk out, disconnecting from Bucky before responding. “Shut up.”

“I’m not doing anything!” he argues, hands up in surrender. He follows you out chuckling.

“You know exactly what you’re doing,” you murmur, shooting him a final glare as you turn a corner into another dull hall. Grimly, you observe the doors you pass them, perking up when you hear familiar muted footsteps ahead.

Bucky catches your eye, lips turning up a little at the sight of you. You catch his pupils flicker down your figure once you’re closer, snagging on a darkened spot right above your right knee.

“I spilled some water,” you explain, fingers dipping unconsciously to brush against the purported area. “No harm done.”

He moves and the ruby tucked in the crevice of his thumbnail catches your eye. Like an instinct, you reach for his hand, a frown pulling on your lips as you observe the small gash on his thumb. 

“Hangnail,” he responds to your silent question, rubbing small circles into the side of your palm. “M’okay.” 

You’re pleased to affirm so, bumping his shoulder gently after you sneak a glance at Sam. “Okay. How’re you doing, hangnail aside?” 

His eyes constellate among your features and he manages some sort of comfort in his expression. “Bored.”

“Great.” Your voice is soft and pleased. He agrees.

You fall silent once again when the intended lab comes into view, Bucky’s large frame stepping half in front of you to prevent you from getting to it first. He pushes the door open before you can, left hand hovering above his weapon as he scans a room already cleared before letting you in, the same fingers that reached for a gun now grazing the small of your back.

Sam raises an eyebrow but remains silent, watching Bucky’s eyes follow you as you head toward the other side of the room to look through a multitude of vials. They don’t waver even after you spare him a reassuring glance crinkled with a tiny smile.

Quietly, he walks over to Bucky, who’s definitely aware of the movement but startles when he leans in close and taps his shoulder. “Strange man-made horror to find,” he reminds. “You can stare later.”

Bucky squares his jaw, metal fingers moving to graze uselessly along the glasses. “I’m aware, Sam.”

“Uh huh.”

It’s nearly silent then, tinged by brittle clinking and quick glances so heavy they seem loud.

Bucky is tired. Sam is tired. Most importantly, you’re tired—and it makes someone like Bucky a little careless.

He’s very sure he won’t be the one who finds the culprit matching Bruce’s description, which means he isn’t as careful as he should be when he ducks his head and inhales something so pungent it’s startling. He flinches back, making the steel shelf teeter. Both his hands shoot out to steady it, flesh fingers bending close to an undulating liquid that spills little bubbles onto his skin, burning sharply into the broken crevices of his nails.

What follows is worse. Clandestinely, a smudged window closes around his brain. It’s subtle and awful, like his mind processes become blurry and slow while outwardly remaining consistent. He keeps himself from stumbling but is sure his eyes round dismally, blinking owlishly as he struggles to catch up with himself.

It all happens in the quick span of a second before he opens his eyes and everything seems normal again, although something tugs thinly from the back of his mind. Super-soldier sanity, he guesses. He looks down at the cause and sees a match, vial open and a dizzyingly clear liquid stationary inside. A red symbol stamps the label, unnamed.

“I think I have something,” he says, cringing at how far away he sounds. Just when he feels the prickling of doubt, everything clicks into agonizingly perfect place. “This might be it.” Unthinkingly, he curves a finger around the neck of the bottle and holds it up.

“Whoa, there,” Sam warns.

You’re next to him fast, taking it away carefully.

“It was open when I found it,” Bucky supplies.

You nod at him distractedly, producing a lid from your pocket to close the beaker and observe it, thankfully protected fingers twisting it around in the light. 

“It matches the description,” he adds.

“Yes,” you mumble distractedly, half in response to him and half in thought. “This is it,” you lower it into your transfer box and grin up earnestly at him when you close it, “good job, Bucky.” It’s very sweet.

“Thank you,” he murmurs. “S’what is it?”

“I’m not that smart,” you laugh.

Bucky disagrees.

“It’s probably not too dangerous. Not airborne, at least, since it was uncapped like that.” you contemplate a little more, looking back up at Bucky. Your pupils set in a way more calculating. “How close did you get to this? Did you inhale it?”

“No. I don’t think so. I smelled something, but it wasn’t that.” Bucky juts a finger behind him. “Maybe the rotted plant. Probably.” 

“Okay.” You say it rounded, edged with lightly veiled concern. “Tell me if you feel weird at all, okay?”

“Of course.”

Sam comes up from behind you, annoyed. “Okay. Are we done here? Can y’all flirt on the jet? I’m hungry.”

“You get so bitter when you’re jealous,” you bite, shooting Bucky a final, doubtful glance before tugging on his hand to leave.

“Am I so transparent,” Sam deadpans.

Bucky contemplates his strange state as he trudges back to the jet, taking quick notice of how dry his mouth has become, his tongue voluble. What he’s hazed with reminds him of oak bar tables and smoke, drunk confidence summery in his chest. He feels fine, he’s sixty-three percent sure. He thinks.

He’s in front of the jet before he can process the journey over, trying to shake away what feels like a creasing tug to his cling film mind. Your eyes are on him, and it looks like it’s not the first time, lashes kissing anxiously. Sam clambers inside, and you wait for Bucky right next to the doors.

“Are you okay?”

“Tired,” he tells you.

You’re about to respond when Sam shouts for you to hurry. Bucky scowls in his general direction, although it dissolves at your amusement.

“It’s okay, c’mon.” You guide him inside, seemingly unbothered as he follows you around like a puppy. “Do you want to take a nap on the way back?”

“Can I sleep on you?” he asks too rawly. You startle subtly with it, but recover quickly, a pale beam on your features.

“Yeah.” You smile at him, entirely saccharine. “Let me just get everything into the containment units.”

He sits in the seat next to your usual spot and stares after you as you walk away, appreciating the concentrated point of your expression as you fiddle with the storage settings.

“Maybe if you stop staring at her and actually talk to her, you might have a chance,” Sam cuts in, slumping next to him.

“I do talk to her,” Bucky argues. “I talk to her all the time. It’s just… she’s pretty.”

Sam struggles for a response for a second. “Oh-kay.”

“Do you really think I’d have a chance?” Bucky finds himself saying, unsure where his mouth has gotten permission to voice his thoughts. He clutches the suddenly few tendrils of control and tries his best to filter his thoughts. It’s too bad he can’t take things back.

Sam gapes. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bucky forces through his teeth, feeling like he wants to puke. Unexpectedly, words feel so much easier to spill out than silence.

Lovely warmth touches his knees. He doesn’t need to look up to know it’s you, your presence something deftly familiar.

Up close, you’re even more captivating when he finally meets your gaze. He holds back from reaching for you, digging his fingernails into his palm to restrain them from curling around your wrist. He wants you closer.

Your sweet features furrow, sparkly eyes catching on his heated forehead and dilated pupils. “Bucky, are you okay?”

“Can I touch you?” he asks, a little desperate from gating the inclination.

“What?”

“He’s acting weirder than usual,” Sam provides.

“Bucky, sweetheart,” unauthorized, he softens at the nickname, “did you inhale anything? Do you feel okay?”

“Some of it got on me. Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. It got on your skin?” You pull on gloves. “Show me where?”

He raises his right hand for you to examine, inhaling sharply when you take notice of the small gash on his thumb again.

“Okay,” you breathe, slowly and then assured. You grab his hand. He blinks. “Come on.” You say, tugging him to the sink and spraying water up to his elbow. “It might’ve entered your bloodstream, we have to wash it out. Sam, call the team, get Bruce working on exactly what it is.” You push Bucky into an isolation unit. “Probably not contagious, probably not deadly,” you mutter to yourself. “We found it nearly half an hour ago. More severe signs would have started by now.”

“It was a level three at worst,” Bucky says, but stays willingly, watching you. “It’s probably one or two. I feel fine, just… uninhibited. Reminds me of getting drunk back then.”

You shake your head, confused, edging on frantic. “Drunk?”

“It hurts to not tell you things.”

“It hurts?” You’ve never felt more helpless, only able to repeat his symptoms in an attempt to inspire some helpful memory from your research.

“More than usual.”

“Bruce says isolation!” Sam calls. “I quote: ‘There’s probably no need, but better safe than sorry.’”

“She knows!” Bucky shouts, eyes on you.

“He sounds fine. Just as annoying,” Sam chatters away to Bruce, and Bucky tunes him out, concentrating on the concerned lines of your face.

“Sam’s worried,” he thinks out loud. “So are you.”

“I am. You’re sweating, Buck.” You examine his face, fingertips bumping into the panel.

“Don’t worry,” he tries to soothe, his own fingers thumping against the separation barrier when he attempts to touch you. “If anything, this is a little bit of a relief. I don’t need Thor.”

You snort lightly. “You’re insane.”

“A little. Not stable, definitely,” he admits.

You hum lowly, biting your bottom lip, pupils quickly inspecting his features. Before Bucky can comment on it, you voice your thoughts. “Okay. I’m gonna test out a theory. I’ll ask you some questions and you just have to answer. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes,” he answers, then, unnecessarily: “I don’t think it would be if it were anyone else.”

You graciously ignore it, only ducking your chin. “What’s your full name?”

“James Buchanan Barnes. But Steve’s right, that sounds a little snotty, doesn’t it? What do you think?”

You laugh. “I like your name. When were you born?”

“March tenth, nineteen-seventeen.” He frowns. “Damn. Just when I was reeling you in with the name thing.”

“Where do you live?” you ask, ignoring his comment.

He prattles off the address to his apartment. “Also you.”

“Me? I’m not…”

“You are,” he interrupts, glancing up at you anxiously. There’s so much he wants to tell you on the tip of his tongue, so much he doesn’t want to be forced to. Not right now. Not like this.

You catch his meaning and move on, eyes thinning accusatorily. “Are you the one who broke my mug?” 

“Yes, I knocked it off the table. But it was Sam’s fault, he pushed me into it.”

“I knew it,” you mutter bitterly, leaning back, limbs less tense. “I’m pretty sure we’re dealing with truth serum.”

“That’s not too bad. Considering the options,” Bucky says. “It makes sense. I feel… I want to tell you everything.”

“Effective.” 

“Thank you for not asking anything too invasive,” he says.

“I wouldn’t,” you respond.

“This shouldn’t be affecting me,” he continues. “The serum stops the effects. They must have made it stronger.”

You pause. “What?” Then, remembering his situation. “Nothing. Never mind. Do you have any pets?”

“A cat. You know Alpine, she loves you. But I know you like dogs.”

You tilt your head, wanting to ask further, but you stop yourself. “I do like dogs.”

“That’s why I’m getting you a dog for your birthday.”

You beam in surprise. “You are? Wait—”

“I keep looking but I can’t find the right one. I was thinking maybe it’d be better for you to come along, but I was supposed to think about that for a little longer.”

“Sam!” you call. “I feel like I shouldn’t be hearing this,” you confess to him, wringing your fingers in wait for the neutral party.

“No, you’re not supposed to know that.”

“I’m sorry. It’s weird it’s affecting you so much, it must be made for enhanced.”

“You figured it out?” Sam asks. 

“Truth serum, I’m pretty sure. Really strong truth serum, from the looks of it.”

“You have to leave,” Sam says immediately.

“What?” you ask, confused for what seems like the millionth time. “No. I want to stay with him.” Your face twists in concern again.

“I want her to stay with me, too,” Bucky adds.

“No, you don’t,” Sam commands. “Who knows… what you might say in front of—” he points at you, enunciating your name with an italic and a gesture. “You should leave,” he turns to you.

“You’re going to take advantage of me,” Bucky accuses.

“Have you been lying to me?” Sam questions. “I am only interested in confirming. Like: did you or did you not break Redwing two months ago—”

“Sam!” you interrupt.

“Come on. Do you know how much food has disappeared? Water bottles dented?”

“I told you that wasn’t me,” Bucky grumbles, leaning against the wall.

“That’s true. That’s what you told me, but what’s true and what you said can be—”

You glare at him. “Stop it.”

He hmphs. “Fine. I’ll settle. He owes me thirty bucks.”

“Whatever. Go make sure everything’s okay up front, I have to give Bucky some meds. Friday, did you activate isolation protocol?” She affirms as you open the door to Bucky’s unit. It’s cold when you step inside, but when you reach Bucky, he’s burning. “Bucky, how are you feeling?”

“Fine.” He looks up at you, pupils dark and blown. He can’t stop his hand when it lands on you, but you don’t seem to mind, leaning in close enough to his face for him to catch the little details of your face. He clears his throat. “Now I’m a little hot.”

You wipe hair from his sticky forehead, taking a small napkin from your pocket to wipe sweat from his brow. “I can see that. Friday, can you lower the temperature in here?”

“You’re gonna get cold.”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“I always worry about you. You can’t ask me to do that.”

You stare down at him worriedly, thumb rubbing gently at his temple. There’s a hiss nearby, and three pills in a little cup stand on the table. You grab them and hand them to Bucky.

“Take these.” You point to the pale tablets, three in a single container. “They’re a precaution and the blue one,” you pinch it to show it to him, “should make this pass a little quicker.”

He takes the blue one first.

“Five minutes ago, we didn’t know what it was,” Bucky says. “You’re amazing.”

“Friday’s amazing. All I do is hand things to you.”

“You’re amazing.” 

You chuckle, observing his eyes. Purely clinical. “Okay. You are, too.”

Bucky bites his lip. “You don’t believe me.”

“I do.”

“You don’t. You’re amusing me.”

You look genuinely offended. “Absolutely not.”

Bucky cracks a smile. “You have a tell.”

“Bucky Barnes.”

“It’s in your lips. You purse them a little. Like even you can’t believe yourself.”

You pinch his lips closed with your index and thumb. He stares up at you with wide, blazing eyes.

“I won’t complain,” he says, muffled.

“You should! Don’t be so nice to me, Barnes.”

“I like it better when you call me Bucky.”

“Really? Everyone on the team calls you Barnes.”

“I said you, not the team.”

You let go of him, eyes sorry. Your thumb bends, the bone tracing along his bottom lip. You’re so close. He wants to echo his realization so badly.

“You’re so close.”

“I’m sorry.” You move to take a step back.

“No,” he protests, reaching for you again.

“What?” You laugh.

“I’m in love with you.”

The very first thing he feels is great, overwhelming relief. Like something had been interfering with his breathing and his feeling and his being and it was removed.

And then came the panic, thickened with fear of the consequences of his honesty and very thinly edged with something nicer.

You haven’t moved since he admitted it, pretty features contorted in neutral shock. He wants to know you so well, he can tell if it’s good or bad.

“I didn’t mean to say that.” He gulps, wanting very badly to let go of you but unable to do so. “Does that blue pill make it a lot worse before it gets better?”

You stare at him.

“Say something, please. I didn’t mean to say that. I don’t want to—I never wanted to tell you that.”

“Why?” you ask finally. Your brows are knitted, the edges of your features dipped in pain.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

You don’t say anything, but your lips part, the sorrowful border of your features softening. “I… I really want to kiss you right now.”

Bucky freezes. “What?”

Your face heats, pupils flickering away from him. You clear your throat. “But you’re in a vulnerable position right now and I don’t want to take advantage of that. I want you to tell me because you chose to.”

“You’re saying…”

“Yeah.”

Bucky really wants to kiss you too. “Why?”

“Because I think you deserve honesty.”

Bucky really, really wants to kiss you. He cracks an unfiltered smile, although it’s not entirely because of the serum. “Damn.”

“What?” you ask uneasily.

“I’m really fuckin’ lucky.’

[kindred-huntrs]

{kindred-huntrs is back up and running. Though for right now it’s going to work differently. Until I’m more comfortable with my writing abilities, this blog will be a sort of ask blog. Once I get better at writing, I’ll do regular rp business. So, I’ll hopefully tag the right tags.}

[kaixserzz]

The Fox, the Crow, and the Bunny.

ੈ♡˳ Il Dottore and Gn!Child!Reader *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ 2.4k words ┊ Fluff *ೃ༄

ੈ♡˳ Masterlist | JLM Masterlist *ೃ༄

author's note ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

something sweet. dedicated to @idyllic-affections thanks for writing my kaveh rq n this series is inspired by ur acc.. realized i strayed from the real purpose of this fic and made it too long, so just think of it as a 2 in 1 special lol,, (also hi sorry for using dottore he's like my muse and i love writing him) also i hope yall get the meaning of this shit lmao (ref to the scara quest tale)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ cw: strictly platonic/familial, reader is 8 years old, basic dottore warnings, mentions of death, dissecting animals and injuries, implied dottolone (barely), a little ooc but it's canon to me

Dottore's office was once a sacred chamber inside the Fatui headquarters.

While not relatively as pristine as his laboratory, amidst the chaos, there was order. Everything was in its designated place, even though his desk was a nightmare to whoever laid eyes on it (spilled coffee too busy to clean, now dried onto the wood of his table, piles, and piles of documents and papers stacked haphazardly on one another, a disarray of pens and pencils occupying every available niche, and vials filled with who-knows-what dangerously teetering on the edge).

Hazards lurked at every turn within his office, presenting a far-from-presentable façade that seemingly clashed with his position as the 2nd of the 11th Fatui Harbingers. Yet, one might ponder, does the doctor truly concern himself with such matters?

No, not at all. He doesn't have the time to clean everything or keep them in such an organized state. He simply knows everything is in place, and the mess scarcely holds him back (he hires maids once in a while, when the mess gets too much, and in 1 out of 5 maids he hires only makes it out alive).

Yet, what truly imbued this room with a sense of sanctity? For within these walls, he unearthed his genuine solace and tranquility.

In this space, silence reigned supreme. Isolation was his companion, a cherished serenity he embraced. Here, his thoughts danced, inventions took form, and ideas flowed onto paper alongside intricate equations. Occasionally, he'd pass out on his desk and drool all over his papers. This room stood as a shelter inviolable, reserved solely for those few instances of urgency or the presence of a fellow Harbinger.

All other members of the Fatui instinctively bid their time, patiently awaiting his emergence from the sanctum of his office before venturing to approach him. For within its confines, the Doctor was impervious to disruption. No one disturbs the Doctor.

That was before you came along, of course.

The office, ill-suited for a child of your tender years, harbored a minefield of hazards. Within its walls lay various artifacts, concoctions, and intricate machinery, a perilous realm unfit for the innocent curiosity of youth. Regrettably, your presence inadvertently disrupted the serene harmony that had long enveloped this space, unsettling the Doctor who, by nature, dislikes abrupt shifts and deviations from what he was used to.

When you first arrived in his office (he didn't want you inside of it, after all, he wasn't exactly fond of children, but he had no choice) you were immediately injured after stepping onto a shard of glass that Dottore has completely ignored. You tried your very best not to cry for the sake of not irritating Dottore further, but he wasn't very gentle with your wound either.

He took note of keeping his vials away from the edge of his table.

Then a bunch of books topples over you. He puts them into the shelves now, and you helped him organize by using the Dewey Decimal System, to which you had read from a book.

Then, while he was explaining his recent idea (rather enthusiastically) to you, his hand accidentally slammed against his files and flew straight to your face. You also helped him organize his papers.

And then it was cleaning his desk, offering him DIY pencil holders you've made just for him. You've also invented a mug that prevents the liquid inside from spilling (he thinks it was a rather brilliant invention, he no longer has to worry about spilling on his desk).

And then it was putting his rather precarious possessions somewhere else, outside the vicinity of his office and far away from your grasp.

You were very eager to help him in any way possible, and for a child, you quite enjoyed receiving chores. Yet, your contentment was uncomplicated, drawn from the privilege of being granted entry to his treasure trove of knowledge, replete with a limitless collection of books, materials, and tools.

Dottore always thought that you'd be such a nuisance to him once you entered his office and sully the peace he has always known within his office's enclosed haven.

But he didn't expect to welcome your presence at all, on such short notice, too. (Deep inside, he felt a strange warmth in his chest whenever you'd tug on his coat, asking if he needed any assistance with organizing his office. He wonders what it was, though.)

So, here you were, amidst the symphony of pen strokes etching against paper, a solitary melody resonating within the confines of his office.

Contrary to his expectations, the calmness he believed would dissipate upon your arrival had, in fact, been amplified by leaps and bounds. As he observed from the corner of his eye, you reclined on your stomach, legs swinging idly behind you, immersed in a world of creativity. Strewn across the floor, an assortment of crayons bore testament to your artistic endeavors, while he diligently attended to the papers handed by the Fatui.

Then, as if hesitant to break the comfortable silence, you tried to catch his attention with a soft 'psst!', then covered your mouth with your tiny hand to suppress your childish giggles.

The corners of his lips twitch in irritance amusement as he turns his head toward you, his pen on the desk. You broke into a much bigger grin and held your drawing close to your chest, not wanting to expose it just yet. "Hey, Dotdot!" You whispered to him, and he can't help but roll his eyes smile at the nickname you've given him. "Can I show you what I drew?"

Dottore emitted a contemplative hum as if grappling with the decision of whether to engage or remain absorbed in his thoughts. Your evident impatience manifested in a pout, prompting his response. "Well, fine," He yielded, beckoning you forth. You beamed brightly as you swiftly rose to your feet and bounded toward him, your landing generating a muted grunt from him. A steadying hand rested on the desk, enabling him to regain his composure, after which he settled your giggling form comfortably within the space between his legs. "Now then," He put his hands on your shoulder, "What is it you wished to share?"

With another giggle from your ceaseless childish amusement, you gave him the piece of paper. Big, round eyes sparkling against the light of the room looked up at him expectantly. Dottore received the drawing from you, his gaze lingering over its details, drawn into a moment of shared curiosity and wonder.

It was him, and you, holding hands, depicted with earnest effort and the imaginative touch of your youthful artistry. Around you were a bunch of other versions of him, his segments, though you've only drawn five (since they were the only ones who have interacted with you so far). Each had their names labeled beneath them, but Dottore absolutely adores that you've labeled him as 'Dotdot' instead (you've also drawn Pantalone holding your other hand and labeled him as 'Pants', adorned both figures with encircling hearts).

"Truly remarkable artwork," He stated with a smile, his words accompanied by the sound of your jubilant cheers, "This masterpiece deserves a place of honor, a spot where all can admire it. I can already imagine the joy it will bring to the other segments once they lay eyes on it."

"Really!?"

"Of course, I do believe they enjoy your company, little bunny."

As he carefully set the drawing on his table, your inquisitive gaze caught his attention. With a tilt of your head, a gesture he knew all too well, you asked him a question, "Why do you call me that?"

"Hm? Call you what?" Dottore grabbed you gently and settled you onto his desk. Positioned face to face, at eye level, his intent was clear—to engage with you as both an adult and a child, a balance you seemed to relish.

"Bunny! You call me bunny lots,"

"Oh? Do you not like it?"

You vigorously shook your head, "No no, I love it! I get called nicknames, but they're all mean." You furrow your brow as you reminisced, pouting at the awful memories. But then you broke into a big smile again, "But yours is new and cute! So, why do you call me that?"

Dottore's grin widened, revealing his sharp teeth, a sight that enthralled you. Your hands instinctively moved to his cheeks, your eyes filled with wonder, and he welcomed the touch wholeheartedly. "Ahh, ever so curious, aren't you, little bun?" He teased playfully, giving your nose a gentle boop! with his finger, and your giggles were a delightful response. "You see, I call you bunny because you embody its spirit—small, swift, and an endless source of vibrant energy.

You also love to hop onto people a lot."

"I love giving surprise hugs! I'm too small, so a jump, so I can wrap my arms around them a bit higher!" You huffed as he chuckled at your explanation. "What are you, then? What animal?"

"Oh? I've never thought about what kind of animal I'd be... Hmmm..." Dottore mused for a while, his expression thoughtful. Eventually, he arrived at a decision. "A fox, I think. Crafty, shrewd, and sly. A creature that prowls with a purpose and possesses those distinct, sharp teeth." As he said that, he grins once more to show his sharp teeth, then lunges for your finger, mimicking a bite, prompting you to gasp and pull back with a joyful squeal.

"And speaking of bunnies..." His tone took on a mischievous edge, causing your eyes to widen in anticipation. Suddenly, he swooped in, grabbing your legs and lifting you high into the air. "I might just gobble you up!" Dottore's playful pretense of chomping down on you elicited a cascade of laughter from you. You pushed at his head, trying to escape his 'gobbling' jaws, your legs kicking playfully as you enjoyed the moment.

"I don't think you're a fox, Dotdot!" You quipped, retaking your seat on his desk. Playfully swinging your legs, you mused aloud, a soft humming accompanying your contemplation.

Dottore raised an intrigued eyebrow, "Oh? And what am I in the eyes of my little bunny? Perhaps something more fearsome?" He inquired, looming over you in an effort to intimidate you.

Instead, your eyes lit up brightly, and you joyfully clapped your hands together. "Oh, I've got it! A crow!" You exclaimed with a triumphant smile.

A bemused frown replaced his grin as he processed your unexpected response. "...A crow?" He echoed, clearly puzzled by your choice. "Of all animals?"

And you merely smile at him, giggling at his confused reaction, "Mhm! Yeah! A crow that talks on and on and on." Your hands followed your words, almost hitting him in the face, "A crow that is death and prey over rotting corpses, but a crow that saved me! I thought Dotdot was an angel, but angels don't have black feathers, scary smiles, or red eyes."

Your words painted a vivid picture of your perception, a whimsical and deeply personal perspective on his nature. Dottore nods along, intrigued, as you rambled your thoughts to him, not even chastising you for grabbing the beak of his mask and playing with it.

"You're a crow! You're very smart, and clever, and creative! You're scary to other people, but not to me! I love corvids, I used to feed them bits of animal after I dissect them, and they always bring me something shiny. They were my only friends, and now you're my friend too!"

He doesn't understand the gentle warmth that began to unfurl within his chest as he remained attentive to your words. While unfamiliar, this sensation wasn't entirely unwelcome... "I beg to differ, my dear bunny. I am unmistakably a fox,"

"Then you're a crow pretending to be a fox!" You pout, stubbornly crossing your arms. "I think crows are way cooler than foxes. They can fly! Plus, you can't call yourself a fox when you resemble a crow more than a fox!" You pointed out, a triumphant smirk on your lips.

Well, you do have a point. He does wear a beaked mask, coupled with a bird-like shoulder embellishment bedecked in exquisite black feathers.

"Should I then consider donning attire that better befits a fox?"

At the notion, you fixed him with a mock glare, your cheeks puffing out in an adorable display of discontent. "Nooooo! I prefer Mr. Crow!" you protested with a playful whine, punctuating your words by delivering gentle punches to his shoulders with your tiny hands.

He chuckles at your small tantrum, and he swiftly gathers you into his embrace. Your arms naturally encircled his neck as he rose from his seat, carrying you toward the door, your precious drawing clutched in your hands. "Very well, very well, my dear Mr. Crow it shall remain," He conceded with a playful tone, his steps filled with an easy camaraderie.

Victoriously, you shot him a smug grin, to which he rolled his eyes at.

"Do you wanna know something, Mr. Crow?" You mutter in his ear as he walks past one of his segments.

"Hm? What is it?"

You made sure to whisper it very quietly, hoping the other segments won't hear you. "Between you and me, I think that your younger segments are like rats!"

He didn't know what came over him, he released a hearty, resounding laugh, its volume surprising not just you but also the other segments who happened to be present, each momentarily taken aback by their own affairs. Such an outpouring of mirth was rare for him (only when he was inside his dark, cool lab, alone with experiments).

A sense of pride swelled in your chest as you grinned widely, his laughter infectious as you burst into a fit of giggles. It was a scary laugh, maybe it was just naturally like that, but to you, it sounded very happy. "They bit me once! I was just poking their face."

"Perhaps give them a treat before you approach them," He says, calming down as he continues his trek toward your room. "This gesture might just soften their demeanor."

"What, like cheese?"

"Oh, little bun, that'll drive them even more mad once they found out you called them rats."

You share another grin with him, finding a cozy spot to rest your chin upon his shoulder in contentment, "Good! I think they're funny when their faces turn red."

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I’ll appreciate it very very much! Don’t repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[aliveinacoffin]

Miguel O'Hara fluff

A spider-reader has the fattest crush on Miguels fat ass.

And maybe he does too.

Have a crush on your ass, not his.

Also more than likely ooc but we both know if you're here you don't mind. (I'm so sorry)

___________________________________________

"I do not!" You huffed out, throwing your arms up.

"Oh come on, literally everyone here has noticed your thing for Miguel." Jess laughed, setting her hip on the table while she looked through her watch.

"Even if I do, he one hundred percent doesn't feel the same." You sighed, setting your feet down from the metal table. Your spider eyes wide and to the sky, your mask hid the deep frown you had.

Jess looked up to you, and even though she couldn't see your face, she could tell that you were upset. You didn't bounce back to your usual positivity and silliness, instead replaced by silence.

"I didn't mean anything by it, I'm just teasing you." She rubbed your shoulder affectionately.

"I know, thanks mom." You brushed her hand away, chuckling airily. Getting up you leaned over the table to oversee all the science-y papers that had accrued.

"On the tone of mom...."

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

"It's so cute! Jess is really excited to have a baby. I just wished she hadn't told me her and her husband have been trying for awhile." You said.

"Good for her! I'll have to ask her more about it later." Sun spider, or Charlotte as you've come to know her, said. She already had been jotting everything down in her notebook for the Spider-Weekly, a weekly magazine made for the spiders in the verse, by the other spiders.

It wouldn't make front page, maybe somewhere in the drama section.

"Yeah, she's really excited to be a mom." You had your back turned, your attention focused solely on following the recipe to make more web. You didn't notice the door open to the private lab, or Sun-Spider panicking to do something 'important.'

"Whose excited to be a mother?" A deep voice growled out, commanding in the way the question was asked.

"Jess! Haven't you-" You turned around, the smirk you wore dropped when you saw him.

Miguel.

Miguel O'Hara, or Spiderman 2099 stood towering over you, serious face and a deadly look in his eyes.

He was always so deadpanned, Miguel always wanted spiders to focus on missions and missions only. He never liked gossip, and any time you came in to spill the tea, he did everything in his power to ignore you. Which is why recently you had to go to new avenues, like Sun-spider. It wasn't like she wasn't your friend, you two just weren't that close.

"Uhhh, Jeeeeess???" You winced out. You weren't really I'm the mood to get scolded at, especially not with company. But leaning over, you saw that Sun had abandoned you.

Miguel's eyebrows went up a fraction, such a fast and small movement that if you hadn't been staring at him you wouldn't have noticed.

"I wasn't aware of that." He simply stated, looking over to see what you were doing. He called out your name, quickly taking the vials you were holding.

"Hey! I was working on that." You leaned over to see what he was doing, encroaching on his personal space, his weird hologram suit fizzing gently against your felt one.

"Well, you were doing it wrong, mensa." Miguel said, annoyed. So annoyed that he had to help you doing such a simple task.

"Hey! I may be a no sabo kid, but I know what that means, pendejo." You huffed out, you watched him quickly mix together a variety of liquids and chemicals. Quickly transferring and stirring each step of the way.

"Of course you'd know all the curse words." His brown eyes met yours, a bored look on his face.

"I do not! I know like, simple shit. Yo comprendo un pocito tambíen, cara de caca." You cackled, turning around to hang up your lab coat.

You missed the way he hung his head and smiled, holding back a silent chuckle.

"¿Sí? Veo que eres bilingüe." Miguel straighted his hunched over form, looking to you over his shoulder.

You stared at him, slowly piecing together what he said. "Hey kiss my ass!" You threw a random manilla folder at him.

He caught it before anything could spill out, surprisingly fast for a man with no spidey senses.

"I'd rather not."

You rolled your eyes at his serious response, and came over back to the table. "Thanks! Though, could've totally done this myself." You shrugged, putting out an overconfident personality.

"Yeah, that's why it wasn't on the verge of exploding. How you managed that is beyond me." Miguel shook his head, rolling his eyes. Watching you refil your web slinger.

Silence filled the room while you completed the simple task, the air tense.

"You haven't come to me in a while. I thought you went AWOL." He said, simple words you were waiting for him to utter.

"W-well. I've been turning in my reports on time. Just as long and descriptive as always." You shrugged, not meeting his intense gaze.

"That's not what I meant."

He meant the fact that you hadn't come to his office to complain the the printer wasn't working, or that the morning was horrid as always, or the drama in the office.

The truth? You started to look forward to speaking to him, seeking it to quell the loneliness that was left after the butterflies. You started to avoid the feeling of your fave heating and the speed of your heart, knowing that the stoic man would literally never feel the same.

"I just-got...busy?" It was more of a question than a statement, unsure of your answer.

"How? You've done nothing but prance around as usual."

Okay, um wow, ick.

Just kidding, his ass was too fat to get the ice.

"Hey! I'm a busy spider person! I have many, spider things to do." You were waving your hands around. You turned on your heel, going to walk out before a strong hand literally covered your shoulder.

"Wait, did I....do something?" Miguels voice drastically changed, stern to soft in seconds. His eyes were searching yours too.

"I-no, it's just. I don't know man, I'm sorry." You admitted, eyes looking down while you played with your hands.

"If-if I did something, you should come to me to fix it, as your superior you should always report to me." Miguel said, sliding his hand off your shoulder, and his usual face of stoicism came sliding back on.

That as well, Miguel was technically your boss, the man you scouted you out and now that you work under.

"I know. That...this doesn't have to do with that."

"Then what-what is impending your work." He was stretching, you knew that, but you couldn't just tell him, hey I'm totally in love with you but I know you don't feel the same so that's why I'm avoiding you!

Things don't work that way.

"Nothing it's just...it's nothing really, it's fine." You turn back around, missing the way Miguel reached out to stop you.

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

A ding made Miguel O'Hara look up from the feed he was watching. He turned behind him, looking at the new report that just came in. It was from you.

Miguel filed it away from later.

He had once complained to you how long they were, and how he didn't need to know every detail. You made a point after that to make them even longer and lengthier.

He would never, never admit it out loud, but he liked to read them just before bed. He loved your writing, how he could just step in and be there, like he was there with you, fighting alongside you.

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

"Miguel?" Your voice was unsure, timid. You couldn't see the platform he was usually brooding on, and you stepped out to try and find him.

Your face dropped to an annoyed when you saw him slowly descending from his throne.

"When are you gonna make that thing faster?" You called out.

"I do it so it so my work isn't disturbed further." Miguel said pointedly. You climbed up the platform when it got close enough, pushing away the floating screens from your face.

"I brought you lunch! I didn't see you at the cafeteria so..." You shook the box, and put it down on his desk.

The awkward silence hung on the air again, before you couldn't bear it, but the beating of your heart made you falter.

The sight of Miguels' handsome face and built body made your heart pound and stomach twist.

You mentally slapped your face before you took a deep breath in.

"So did you hear about plush spider-man and Toy Spiderman?"

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

"You should return to your universe." Miguel had waited until the two of settled in silence to say something. Usually, you ranted for awhile before you were called into a mission.

But this time, nothing pulled either of you away. And Miguel listened while you talked, it was mostly you anyway. At first when you started to bug the older man, you didn't know if he was listening or not, but you saw how his ears perked up and how he'd subtly remind you of details of stories that you'd told.

"Woowwww, you're kicking me out? I'm not that annoying, am I?' You looked up at him from where you were hanging, a fake hurt look coming to your face.

"You are, and you should leave." He didn't even look back to you, only reading some article or report.

"Miggyyyyy." You called out for him. He hated it when you used that nickname, but you loved watching him shake his head.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, and watched what he was doing with your head on his shoulder. A massive shit eating grin decorated your face as he tensed and glared at you. You ignored your racing heart and hot face just to see the look on his.

He didn't push you off there, merely pausing for a moment before resuming his work. "You know I hate that nickname, it's annoying and unprofessional."

"Unprofessional? Because we're all a super serious business, a super legit business too." You laughed.

Miguel rolled his eyes, they constantly flick from your face to his work.

"Whatcha doiiinn." You rested your chin on his head, quickly getting bored.

"Working. Like you should be doing." He said, exasperated.

You made a fart sound, "Working is for nerds, me? I'm a cool guy." You walked away from him, getting ready to jump off the platform before you looked back at him. Shocked to see he was staring at you.

There was silence, again. Something so unusual for you two, for you.

"Yeah?" You asked, timid.

"Theres...." Miguel stood up, turning to you fully. "Lunch, tomorrow. Would you...like to go out for lunch tomorrow? There's a special going on at some place downtown, and I thought it'd be something that you'd enjoy."

You blinked owlisly at him, this was so...out of character for him. And he seemed apprehension, like every word he said was like pulling teeth. His fave seemed more red, his skin making it more apparent since he already had a reddish undertone.

"I-I'd love to! I mean," You cleared your throat, and stood up straight, putting on a serious persona, "Yeah sure its whatever." You snifged, wiping your nose to try and look cool.

Miguel gave you a blank stare, but unlitmatly rolling his eyes to let out a chuckle. The sight was something to behold, especially from your serious leader.

"I'll see you tomorrow! And I expect you to be wearing people clothes, since we'll be going out as people!" You laughed, jumping down and running from the platform.

Miguel just let out a fond sigh as he watched you leave. And he turned around to Lyla giving him a smug look.

He scowled, "I don't want a word from you."

She mimicked zipping her lips closed, smirking.

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