#*mouse crying noises*

[unintentionalseductress]

Spring Break

“Stop squirming I know you missed me.” 

Caleb’s low purr resounds in your ear and you whimper as you struggle to keep quiet, his fingers stroking soft circles on your puffy clit. 

“Should’ve known this is the real reason you’re always asking me to come home. Do you not touch yourself when we’re apart?” You’re trapped under Caleb’s weight, his body pinning you firmly, one hand sinking into the plush fat of your thigh as he holds you open. 

You hide your face into the pillow as a moan escapes you and Caleb chuckles. He sinks a finger into your fluttering hole and you gasp, your desperate little cry noisily filling the room.

“Ssh. Do you want Gran to hear you?” His voice is so wickedly taunting as he continues the gentle assault on your clit. You whimper, trying so hard to stay in control but it was difficult with him touching you so perfectly. 

“Ah, look at how you’re squeezing me. So wet.” Caleb withdraws his finger and a trail of sticky slick comes with his finger, connecting to your cunt. He coats your clit with it and gives the nub a pinch which has you bucking, your round ass pressing into his cock.

“Good. Looks like I haven’t forgotten how you like it. Admit it pipsqueak, you prefer it when I touch you, don’t you?” 

Your poor brain, heavy with need and sexual fog, can barely understand his words anymore. Every inch of you tingled and all you wanted was to be impaled on his cock. You nod breathlessly then let out another moan. Caleb shifts his arm so it partially goes between your parted lips. You bite down and he growls in satisfaction.

“That’s it. Bite me. Mark me as your own.” His flesh now muffles your voice, and you focus on the rising pleasure in your clit, Caleb’s stimulating words only turning you on even more.

“So wet even before I took your panties off. Are you my good little slut?” You groan as he smoothly sinks two fingers back into your cunt with a moist squelch. “Oh, not just good. Perfect little slut.” He nips your ear as his fingers start to curl up into that patch of nerves deep inside you and you swear you can feel yourself going cross-eyed at the sensation. 

“My good little mouse. Cum for me please?” The sweet way Caleb asks you nearly shuts down the rest of your senses. The urgency built deep within your quivering core and indeed, your brain was close to shutting down, following his words to the edge. Your teeth sink into the sinew of his forearm as his fingers finally give you the release you’d been waiting for and it stifles your moans of ecstasy as the continuous ripples of delight wrack your system. Your pussy clenches around his thick fingers as more of your arousal spills onto them. 

“Amazing.” He pats your clit before pulling out his fingers, sucking them clean of your slick. “Cumming on command…proving you really are mine.” You sigh, feeling your head come back down from the dizzy spiral it had been on before Caleb spoons you, and slips into your wet cunt slowly. 

The push of his thick mushroom head entering into you has you squeezing your eyes closed from the pleasure, the way he filled your channel with his velvety heat causing your voice to quaver. His arms lock around you as he starts to thrust, his hips smacking into your ass with each stroke. 

“Did you miss me? No one around to make this pussy feel good at college?” He asks into your ear as he moves. You let out a little noise before responding. 

“No.”

Caleb chuckles, the noise of your wet reunion squelching lewdly into the room. “No one can make you feel as good as me huh?” He palms your breasts as he huffs into the back of your neck. Your eyes flutter closed as he continues to piston in and out of you. “My sweet little slut. Keeping this pussy nice and wet just for me. You’re such a good girl you know?”

You manage to sigh out a “uh huh” of agreement, his words of praise gently tickling your senses. A laugh escapes him. 

“Oh you’re so fucked out little mouse. Cock feel good?” He gives a series of deep thrusts that have him bottoming out each time and you mewl from the feeling of being stretched to your limit. 

“Fuck…that’s it…keep clenching me like that.” Caleb growls as he feels his balls tightening up, his fingers leaving indents in your skin as he finally orgasms, thick jets of cum painting your womb as he empties himself into you. 

“Filled you up to last a few days. Don’t waste it. Gotta make it last till our next visit.” 

[fckmebarnes]

not fair

professor!bucky barnes x student!reader

18+ men and minors dni! smut -- dry humping. pussy lip fucking. creampie. choking. gag (tie). voyreism. erm. yeah! hehe

w/c -- 3k

a/n -- lemme bring back dry humping real quick...I had to write something for this photo shoot release -- I got so many requests on Twitter to write something and on here so...I hope you guys enjoy! kinda wanna make them a thing so...feedback is welcome <3 @brooklyn-duo & @professor-james-buchanan-barnes … hope you enjoy hehe <3

beep beep beep

you groaned, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you heard the incessant noise from your alarm. wiping your arm to find your phone, you groggily open your eyes to turn off the alarm before you see the time.

shit. you were late for your class.

scrambling out of bed, you toss on the only clothes you can find -- a big t-shirt with some biker shorts on underneath. quickly putting yourself together and finding your bag with your books, you haul your ass across campus as fast as you can go.

--

“you’re late.” you feel your body freeze as you're making your way to the only open seat on the other side of the classroom, closest to the professor.

you life your head up with shame across your face. you weren't usually this late, and you hated being late to professor barnes’ class.

you had a pretty good attendance, so he wasn't going to give it too much thought, but he absolutely loved seeing your face flood with guilt and shame. something about it made his skin crawl in a good way.

you mumble a little apology as you sit down and plop your bag down and feeling the stare of the rest of the classroom.

“stay after class.” he states and all you can do is nod.

--

“c’mere.” he beckons you with his metal pointer finger. he was pushed away from his desk, spreading his legs out wide, plenty of room if you wanted to kneel in between them. he must've caught the way your demeanor shifts when your eyes drag over his figure. you're suddenly feeling hot under his gaze and without missing a beat you're striding over to him.

“good girl. you listen very well.” he murmurs, eyes darkening as he looks at you from head to toe, slowly, and back again. you swallow thickly before youre blushing deeply -- your cheeks fucking hurt now.

he sits up, reaching for your wrist with his metal hand before hes pulling you right in between those damn legs, your own thighs brushing against him. you felt a little self conscious on how much space you were taking in between his legs -- not really ever wearing biker shorts like this. they always made you feel like maybe your thighs were too ‘big’

he did not seem to care, though.

both of his large hands come to run up the backs of your thighs, his fingertips brushing gently towards your inner leg, over the fabric and cupping your core gently. you suck in a breath, completely aware of his touch.

he pulls you closer, almost making you stumble into his chest before he’s turning you around and sitting you down right in his lap -- your ass rubbing right against his cock.

“professor..!” you let out a little squeal, bracing your arms on the edge of the desk in front of you. he grunts behind you, watching your back arch out as you look behind him.

“how do you just do whatever you want, doll?” you furrow your brows as his hands grip tighter onto your hips. you didn’t know what he was talking about, but the way he was looking at you told you he was going to show you.

“think you can just be late for my class, and not even show up for last week's lesson.” you blush, knowing exactly what he meant by ‘lesson’.

you and professor barnes had this perfect game of cat and mouse -- he acted nonchalant, like he didn’t really want you. but you knew how bad he wanted you every single time he would stare you down during a lesson, how he would specifically have an open seat next to his desk every single lesson just for you. how he knew exactly how to make you cry on his fingers.

he started giving you these after class lessons. you were nervous at first. clearly it was for real studying and needing an extra hand on the course work.

you were a stellar student -- you have perfect attendance, you always apply yourself and you get decent ish grades.

but sometimes you just need extra help.

and for some reason, help looked like professor barnes’ fingers inside you, warming them while he made you read out your essay he had graded, or a chapter of a textbook lesson you missed.

“i don’t know what you mean, professor.” fuck. the innocence in your tone made his cock twitch, and it was the way your eyes looked big at him over your shoulder.

he pulled you fully seated back onto him, letting you keep your grip on the table while he slowly started to buck his hips into you -- a concentrated look on his face. you could feel how fucking hard he was through your slacks, and you knew he could smell how wet you were.

“i highly doubt it.” he mutters, biting his lip as he continues to grind into you. he saw the second you felt his cock rub against your clothes clit because you started grinding back down onto him, loving this little game.

“i mean it…” you trail off, innocence still in your tone. “i just need some extra guidance, professor. can you help me?” his eyes darken the second you ask, his fingertips digging deeper into hips. he removes them for a second before hes sliding his hands up and under the fabric of your big t-shirt and hooking his fingertips under the waistband of your biker shorts.

“you want my help, doll?” you nod with a whimper leaving lips as you grind down harder onto him. there was something so fucking debauched about dry humping your history professor right after class -- the windows wide open. someone could hear if they walked by. it gave you a thrill, but you knew that he wouldn’t let anyone hear you.

he groans, feeling his cock throb heavily in his slacks, a wet spot forming on the front of his boxers and pants. he bucks his hips into you as you grind down into him, biting your lip from making any noise. he could see your struggle -- he could see your composure slowly melting away with every single thrust he gives into you. letting you imagine what it would be like if he were to fuck you int his position right now.

but that would be a reward for you. and you were late to class.

he suddenly stops thrusting up into you, taking his hands from around your waist band and tugging your shorts down to your ankles. your big t-shirt still pooled around your hips, bunched up and showing your hip creases.

he almost came to the sight of them. “fuck…baby.” he absentmindedly runs his fingers down the sides of your hips under your shirt before they come into contact with your hip creases and pinches them -- he loved to see a little something extra for him to grip onto and mark.

you whimper as he touches you, feeling suddenly exposed under his eye. he loves making you feel like this -- where any move you made he would pounce on you in a second

“professor…” you draw on, looking at him as he pulls his hands away from your hips and going for the burgundy diamond tie snug around his neck. he loses it, shaking his head to make it come off faster before he’s leaning forward to wrap it around the front of your mouth.

its soft against your skin and it smells exactly like his cologne -- the scent invading your brain and making you feel fuzzy.

he ties a little loose knot on the back of your head, making sure to not get any hair caught before he is tugging on it a little bit -- your back arching against his chest as his metal hand comes to the front of your body, cupping your sex through your underwear.

“tell me, doll…” he starts, his lips brushing against the side of your ear, licking up a small stripe from your earlobe around the shell of your ear before hes softly breathing into your ear making you shiver. “do you let other professor’s tutor you like this? or am i just the exception?” he inquires, already knowing the answer.

you stumble through your words as he starts to run his fingers over your clothed slit, feeling the dampness form more on the fabric. you shuddered as you shook your head, gripping the sides of the chair. he tuts as he puts a little smack onto your swollen clit. he watches as you breathe through your nose, feeling the anticipation grow throughout your body as he continued to leave little light smacks onto your clit -- your body jerking with each smack

you could feel another gush of arousal flow through you, soaking the fabri even more and making a little sticky sound as he teasingly goes to finger your hole through your underwear.

“so this is all for me? no one else?” you nodded, whining more against the tie as your chest rises quicker at the feeling of the tip of his middle finger prods your slick hole.

“good girl.” he purrs softly before he nips your earlobe again and pushes you forward -- catching yourself on the edge of his desk again.

he unzips his slacks, taking his hard cock out through the hole in his boxers and spits in his hand to pump his cock a few times. you can feel as he slaps the tip of his cock on your ass, pre cum smearing into the fabric. you whine again, rocking your hips against him.

“so eager to get a good grade, aren’t you?” you nod, desperate at this point. you didn’t know what he was going to do, but either way you needed him to fill you up.

he thumbs the center of your soaked underwear to the side, before sliding his cock in between the wet fabric and your dripping cunt.

“fuck, baby. this pussy is soaked, isn’t she?” your arousal soaked his entire length instantly, and both of you let out a satisfied groan as you felt his cock slide into your wet underwear and heat. he groaned as he could feel your clit throb against him, as he let go of your underwear and letting it snap back into place. he brings you back onto his lap, tugging on the ends of the tie to make your head snap back against his shoulder as he rocks his hips up against you -- his fat cock sliding easily against your soaked underwear and cunt. you wanted nothing more for him to push his fat tip past your hole -- but you knew he wouldn't do that.

“tell you what, sweetheart.” he grips your hip with his metal hand to keep you steady, his flesh hand letting go of the ends of the tie and wrapping loosely around the front of your throat. “i’ll let you grind into me like this until the tip of my fat dick catches your slutty hole.” he groans gently as he feels your heart beat pick up at the proposition. he hadnt even told you all of it yet.

your fingers dig into the wooden chair arms as you continue to grind yourself into him, soaking him entirely. your clit throbbed furiously, your nipples ached and your core was heavy. you needed release but you weren't sure if he was going to give it to you.

“if that happens,” he continues, slowing his pace and letting you grind again, groaning as he easily slides in between your wet folds. “i’ll give you all of my cock, okay?” you whimper as you nod, wanting nothing more than to be sat on his cock. and you felt like that was going to happen with the rate your hips picked up the pace, shorter huffs of breaths through your nose as you concentrated.

“atta girl,” he coos, turning his head to press his lips against your neck as you feel the tip of his cock nudge against your swollen clit, a muffle moan escaping your lips. his cock throbbed as you pulled your hips forward. at that moment, just the tip of his cock nudged into your hole before sliding easily past it.

“fuck…” you were close, wanting his cock so fucking bad that you let go of the chair handles and leaned forward -- grabbing the edge of his desk and fucking your cunt over the lenght of his cock more.

he watches you with wide, darkened eyes as you move, making eye contact as you desperately catch the tip of his cock on your hole.

“thats it…” he encourages as you catch the tip of his cock again before hes grabbing your hips and slamming you down onto his cock with a moan. “takin’ my cock like a good girl i knew you were.” you let out a muffled moan as you feel his stretch around you, his cock throbbing inside of you and the tip snug so deep into your gut you could feel tears prick your eyes.

“you look pretty like this…” he muses, lifting your shirt up higher to expose your back and that arch you did as soon as he sat you on his cock. your hips were grabbable, big. he fucking loved that.

he kept your shirt bunched at the top of your back with his flesh hand before his metal one comes to ground you on his dick before you start moving your own hips up and down on him.

your fingers grip against the desk as he meets your thrusts, watching as his cock gets swallowed right into your pussy, slipping back out with slick covering his length.

“takin’ your professor’s cock so fuckin’ good, you know that doll?” you moan again against the tie, the smell of his cologne hitting you again like a ton of bricks as he lets go of your shirt and grips your hips with both hands

he starts his pace quicker, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. you clench around him and you swore you felt him throb inside of you. his finger nails dig into your skin to leave marks this time. you want to take the tie off and moan his name, let him hear your whimpers and whines that are being made just for him.

he stands up with his cock still buried deep inside of you before hes fucking you over his desk, papers flying off the surface and sprawled over the floor, pencils knocking against each other and the metal sound of his belt buckle slapping against your thighs.

he smooths his hands over your ass before he spreads your cheeks and pulls your underwear aside to really watch his cock disappear inside of you.

“fuck…she keeps suckin’ her professor in, baby.” he comments as he watches you smush your cheek against his desk, eyes locked on yours as whimpers and mons muffle themselves against his tie. you could feel your orgasm come on with each thrusting of his hips and his metal hand coming to stuff itself down the front of your underwear and press against your swollen clit.

you clench in response, your thighs clenching as you feel him deep inside of you, the messy sound of his cock fucking into you -- you were so thankful for his stupid fucking tie.

“gonna cum, doll? can feel her squeezing me, know you need it…” he growls against the back of your head when he leans forward and against you -- the buttons from his dress shirt rubbing against your spine.

he reaches for the tie in your mouth with his free hand and grips the base of your throat to make you look at him best you could without straining your neck.

“let me hear you, doll. wanna hear you cum around your professor’s cock like a good little student, you hear me?” your mouth falls open as you let out a moan, his fingers playing your clit perfectly as his cock fucks into you and his hand around your throat tightens just enough to get your brain fuzzy as you cum hard around his cock.

“there we go, good girl. give it to me, soak my fuckin’ cock.” he wants all of it, wants you to make the biggest mess all over his over and over and over again. you start babbling sentences, mostly ‘thank you, thank you’ as youre screwing your eyes shut. your cunt clenches around him again as his hips speed up chasing his own release

“fuck, james…” you groan out as you squeezehim again, feeling another one come on.

“you gonna cum again, baby? fuck--” he moans as he feels your thighs tense again, your clit throbbing under his thumb as you squirt into your underwear, cheeks flushed with embarrassment of how fuckin gone you are.

“shit.” he notices you squirt, biting your shoulder harshly as he feels his cock twitch, pace faltering as he catches his release and pulls out just in time to cum in your underwear -- making an even bigger mess than before.

“fuck…god baby…” he groans as he moves his hips slower, body shivering as he rides his high and takes his hand from your clit to suck his finger clean. he groans as he tastes you on his tongue, needing more. but he knew it was almost time for faculty to be going home and he didnt want either one of you to get chewed out

“you did so fuckin’ good for me.” he praises as he pulls his cock from your soiled underwear, your body shivering as you feel his cum stick to your inner thighs and making a mess of your pussy.

he leaned up again as he smacks your ass gently, admiring the way you look bent over his desk. he pulls back up your bike shorts and you groan as you feel his and your mess press harder against your core.

he kisses down your spine before pulling down your shirt again and pulling you up and turning you around. he pulls you back into his chest and sits down in his chair curled up on his lap. this is the best aftercare he can offer you right now, which kills him. he knows you don't mind too much, but there are some times where he just wants to cuddle with you for hours afterwards.

“you still mad at me for being late?” you feel his chest rumble under your face as you smush against him, playing with one of the dress buttons on his shirt. he rubs your exposed arm with his hand before peppering a kiss on the top of your head.

“of course not, doll.” you sigh softly at the validation, looking up at him.

“thank you for this lesson , professor barnes. i think i learned this time…” you trail off, watching as he smirks, pecking a soft kiss to your lips.

“anything for you, my star student. have to make sure you pass.”

[witherby]

Continuation of the biting baby, y/n as a toddler somehow developed the habit of headbutting people in the gut but not bruce. He still gets bit but aye, he's not alone anymore lmao

(Baby has to be put in air jail almost everyday buy the moment they're out they headbutt the person who placed them in air jail as hard as possible)

(Also just in case people doesn't know what air jail is,u just hold the baby/animal In the air with ur hand)

A pattern is forming. I think you all want Mouse to be a violent baby.

Including me, so —

The Littlest Wayne: Air Jail

"AHH! SHI-AHhhghh sugarhoneyicetea..."

Bruce lifts his eyes from his newspaper and looks at the couch, waiting for the inevitable. Like clockwork a pair of hands shoot into the air, with you as prisoner, and you start complaining and windmilling your limbs. The hands holding you are encased in leather; Jason must have been the victim then.

"Mousey, I'm workin' with two broken ribs and a concussion," the man complains, jostling you for emphasis. You squeal, giggling. "You cannot keep running into me with that thick little noggin at full speed. I felt a third rib crack upon impact. You're killing me. You're killing your brother. I'm gonna die again."

"Wanna!" You insist, back to windmilling. "Down! Jay-Jay, down!"

"No down. You get Air Jail 'till you say sorry and promise not to headbutt me again."

"I sowwy..." You whine, jutting your bottom lip out for emphasis. "Down, p'ease."

"Jesus Christ, the puppy dog eyes are lethal. I — ugh. You gotta say you won't headbutt me anymore. No more headbutt, okay?"

Your eyes start to water. Bruce watches you sink back down, vanishing behind the back of the couch, and snorts into his paper. He lets out a full laugh when Jason cries out a minute later. You've struck again.

"WE HAD A DEAL. Get over here, you're going back to Air Jail."

You shriek with delight, toddling away as fast as your chubby legs will allow. Jason, as injured as he is, actually can't catch up to you before you spot your dad and make the motion for Uppies.

"Daddy!" You cry. Bruce sets the paper aside and scoops you up.

"Are you being naughty?" He asks. You grin and hide your face in his shoulder. "Uh oh. Maybe I'll let Jay put you back in Air Jail — OW?"

He winces and your peals of laughter ring right next to his head. You open your mouth to bite him again, but he's the one to lift you into the air this time. "Daddy! Down!"

"I'm calling the police," Bruce deadpans, dropping into the Batman Voice. "Your rampant string of crime has gone unchecked for too long. Victims are piling up left and right. You've headbutt all your brothers this week, and Uncle Hal, and Titus. How Grandpa is escaping your tyranny is a mystery, but it's time to turn you over to the law."

"No powice, daddy!"

"Yes powice, child."

Bruce stands up and carries you into the day room, lowering you down into an extra tall play pen.

"Time out for five minutes."

You pout and cross your tiny arms, glaring at the ground.

"Don't wike, daddy. Want out."

"Yeah, well Daddy doesn't like getting bitten like a cookie, and your brothers don't like taking your skull to their bodies at high speeds. We want our skin free from bruises and teeth marks."

"Ha-ha," Jason teases from the doorway, pointing at you. "Get got, criminal!"

Your pouting intensifies. You reach out to Jason and make small whining noises.

"Want out. Want Jay-Jay, p'ease! Jay-Jay!"

The smug little smirk fades from Jason quick, turning into something fond and pitying.

"....I mean...c'mon, B, they're three. Five whole minutes?"

Bruce rolls his eyes. "This is why we haven't been able to curb this behavior yet. You can't fall for big eyes and a please every time —"

You hitch a little sob, and like a wet paper bag, Bruce folds.

"Maybe I'm being a tad harsh. They're three years old..."

[crimsonbubble]

no bc just imagine how sexually frustrated miguel would be after chasing you around like cat and mouse… the breeding has entered the chat

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, hair pulling, degradation, overstimulation, a bit of manhandling, improper use of webs *not proofread, just pure horny

[I want him so bad why can't he be real 😔😔😔]

MINORS DNI!!

he's getting tired of this, but your pretty eyes and soft lips draw in him each time he swore that he wouldn't fall for your games. as tired as he is, he always lets you get away with it.

letting you get away with it a little too easily. though now he's stopped his chasing, trying to keep himself occupied to stop himself from playing into your games. he can feel your eyes on him, burning into his back as he continues working through anomaly reports.

as you tried to sneak up on him, you felt something spread across your chest, wrapping around your arms. with a sharp tug, miguel pulled you into him. you collided with his chest, a hand holding his webs and a hand on your lower back. you struggled against the webs, only making him spread more around you.

miguel quickly tugged your mask off, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the shock written on your face. "not so tough now, huh?" you struggled against the webs again, trying to pull yourself away from him. "don't try and run from me now, you earned this."

miguel let out a grunt, pushing you up against his desk. he pressed a heavy hand to your back, webbing your wrists together. with little to no care, his talons rip through the crotch of your spider suit. the cloth is torn to shreds on the platform. "you've been nothing but a pain in the ass,"

miguel takes in the sight of you bound in crimson webs and bent over his desk. "a real thorn in my side." you try to peer over your shoulder only for miguel to press your head down to his desk. "we're not done til I say we're done." he disengages his suit with a flash, grinding his throbbing cock through your folds.

"you're lucky I'm even letting you have my cock." he says this yet he's just as needy for you as you are for him. the back and forth, the pushing and pulling, the cat and mouse games; he loves them but sometimes all he really wants is to web you up and fuck you til your legs give out.

and that is exactly what he's going to do. miguel lets his own fantasies and desires lead him, letting himself act on his impulses. miguel bottomed out in one sharp thrust, your walls convulsing and tightening around him as he fucked you. each thrust was heavier than the last, hips hips knocking you up further onto his desk.

with the hand pushing your face into his desk, he's tangling his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back as he rocked his hips into yours. you can't get words out because of how rough his pace is. miguel set a hand on your hip, using it to pull your ass back on his dick.

every thrust in and pull back forced his cock deeper, stretching your walls to accommodate his size. you're practically seeing stars shoot across your vision, mouth hanging open with each moan and cry that leaves you breathier than the last. with how easily miguel is leading you to orgasm, you know that you're not getting out of this for a while.

"only the first and you're already this fuckin' messy, huh?" the condescending tone makes your pussy flutter, as miguel tracks a finger over your pulsing clit. he rubs circles against the throbbing bud as you tumble head first into another orgasm. "m-miggy-" the words are caught in your throat, being passed by lewd cries and heavy moans.

your slick is gushing around his cock, and the wet noises of skin on skin finally make it to your ringing ears. miguel pushes your head against his desk again, grunting as he speeds through his release. it's a flood of warmth as miguel keeps his pace, groaning as much cum spills out of you. "fuck, look at you. such a messy little thing."

you can't tell up from down as miguel guides you to another orgasm. you're trying to alleviate the heavy plows of his hips by raising to your toes, but it only motivates miguel to go even harder, as if he's trying to knock the sense out of you. your eyes are blurring with tears, the stinging of the overstimulation starting to bite.

in a feeble attempt at pushing miguel away, he pins your wrists against your back. he uses it as more leverage to pull you back on his cock, letting another heavy load paint your walls white. "it's okay, take it just like that." the moans he's letting out are deep and guttural, a noise you would've missed if you weren't being drowned in his mere presence.

you're struggling against the webs again, the tingle of the overstimulation reaching new heights. miguels superhuman nature granted him increased stamina and endurance, making it easy for him to ride out his second high while you're crashing through your third. "c'mon now, is that all you got?"

you outwardly whine at his words, pushing your hips back to meet him halfway. miguel leans down, his chest to your back as he kisses up your neck. his fangs pushed against your skin, lightly grazing it with a featherlike pressure. it's as if he's teasing the idea that he could sink his teeth in. he very much could but he wants you to feel everything that he's doing to you.

he's got you trapped, and he doesn't intend on letting you go any time soon.

[wintertime-in-june]

A Marriage of Convenience

Colonel!König x Vulnerable!Reader

You sobbed, hot and heavy as tears streaked down your face. You looked at the email through bleary eyes one last time before swallowing the lump in your throat and letting out further cries.

Your visa had come to an end and your citizenship status was declined. You had to go back to your home country, back home, away from KorTac, off the Austrian base.

As König walked past the door to the empty teaching room in which you resided he heard it. The high pitched, sniffles and cries. No man on his base could make these delicate, heart wrenching noises, no, he knew it was you. His perfect little recruit, his good girl, y/n.

He stopped at the door to the room, ready to enter but wanting to do so carefully. Now was his chance, you were crying, upset and oh so vulnerable... in need of a big hero to swoop in and save the day. Now, he just had to find out what you needed and he could make all the pain go away...

He pushed the door open tentatively, trying his best not to nearly rip it from its hinges like he usually did. He scanned the room looking for his little girl and there you were curled up at the back, knees tucked against your chest, with your back against a cupboard. He couldn't help but smile at your small, helpless form. Quickly catching himself his face fell, back to its neutral, stoic stare as he shut the door behind him with a click.

You heard the door close and looked up to see the hulking man that was your Colonel walking towards you. Big, heavy combat boots trudging on the ground.

Your mouth fell into an 'o' as you attempted to wipe your tears away, shaky breaths and sniffles, trying to placate your crying.

The Colonel stood before you, looking down before he himself got down in a squat and eventually sat himself in front of you, arms resting on his knees.

"I'm s-sorry Colonel." You manage to stutter out, the tears having ceased but your choked up demeanour remaining.

He gave you a sympathetic smile, it was no secret he had a soft spot for you, although, no-one but him truly knew how deep it goes.

You gave him a small smile back, attempting to put on a brave face. 'Cute' he thought to himself as he tilted his head to the side.

"What's up kleine Maus?"

'Little Mouse', that was his nickname for you. You smiled a little at the use of the name, tears still brimming your shining eyes.

"I- I got an email," you managed to stutter out before the tears ensued once more, "they're sending me back Colonel, I don't know what to do."

You buried your face in your knees once more, breath shaking as you attempted to get some air in your lungs.

You unlocked your phone and passed it to König, letting him read the email.

"I don't want to go back." You said, barely above a whisper as you let out a shaky breath.

"I like it here," you continued, "I don't want to go back home, my parents... they're not nice... and here I get food and, and I have a bed."

You sob a little as you think back to your old life. Although the military was tough, for you it was an improvement, and you weren't ready to give all of this up.

König read the mail before placing the phone down. His eyes narrowed as you said why you didn't want to go back home. It upset him... no, it angered him that your home life could be worse than this. The one place you were supposed to have guaranteed safety and support and you did not.

"What am I going to do?" You said, choked up, lifting your head from your knees to look at the man that loomed in front of you.

"How could you stay?" König asked, already theorising how he was going to fight off anyone who would even attempt at taking you away.

"I would have needed approved citizenship, m- my visa ran out of time." You said, attempting to blink away tears but feeling yourself getting choked up again.

"But my citizenship was declined." You cried burying your head in your knees once more.

König let out a low sigh as he shuffled forward to sit next to you. When his back hit the cupboard that your own one rested on, it shook under the sheer force of him propping himself against it.

He snaked an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to lean on him. He rubbed the side of your arm soothingly, an expression of distain for the predicament resting on his features.

"O-or I'd have to marry a citizen, but that's not going to happen." You let out a shaky breath, almost like a laugh, as though even the notion was ridiculous.

König's eyes shot open, as if he was having a Eureka moment to say the least. His soothing rubs on the side of your arm stopping momentarily. "A-and why's that not going to happen?" He spoke perhaps too quickly, too eagerly.

You look up at him with a confused expression as if it were obvious.

"I don't have any boyfriend, let alone an Austrian one who would want to marry me in the next," you think for a moment, "...six days."

There is a beat of silence as König collects himself, tries to remain calm and chill.

"I'll marry you."

The air is thick with tension as he awaits your response. You can't believe what you're hearing.

"Really? You'd marry me?" You say softly, looking up at König with awe in your eyes. As if he'd saved you, as if he were your hero.

"But what about you? What if you want to get married for real someday, is there someone you like?" You ask, you couldn't believe he would do this for you.

He lets out a low chuckle, you don't even know the half of it. He wanted you, this was his dream, he could practically not contain the ecstatic happiness he was experiencing at your issue. He knew it was wrong. He knew he was a bad, bad man for enjoying this, but his heart was beating faster, he was holding back a smile and he couldn't help but seize this opportunity.

Before meeting you he thought he would die alone, but not from rejection, no, truth be told he has never been interested in a person enough to pursue them romantically, that was until you stepped into his office...

Perfect, cute, y/n, with an adorable little smile and oh... code violating underwear. That's how the two of you first met. On your first week, sent to the office by the Lieutenant for your dress code violations.

From that point forward he was obsessed, unbeknownst to you. You just thought he let you get away with more, being a girl and all. He was nicer, kinder, sweeter to you. Trying your baking, letting you sit with him at lunch, helping you over the walls in training. A caring Colonel.

"Come here." He said lifting you up and placing you in his lap.

You allowed him to do so, smiling a little, was he really going to fix your predicament?

He wrapped his large arms around you, thick muscles keeping you safe. You leaned into him hugging him back.

"I'm going to marry you, no-one is taking you away."

You couldn't help but smile more as you hugged him tightly. Your heart beating a little quicker.

"Thank you Colonel, thank you." You whispered.

He let out another chuckle.

"You know, you don't always have to call me Colonel, maus." He teased a little.

"What should i call you sir?"

"Mein Ehemann." he stated, petting your hair as you leant against his chest.

"Mein Ehrmann," you repeated, he smiled at this, "what does it mean?"

"Your husband."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, maybe this marriage would be for more than just convenience...

[peachesofteal]

Simon and Johnny love a good game. 

They get bored, when they're not at work. Climbing the walls and lurking for long hours in the gym, at the bar. You can only watch so much television, can only read so many books. They try to broaden their horizons when it comes to cooking, but so far, they're slow learners. 

But games. Games can be fun. Not board games, metal pieces and paper money, folding maps and cards. No. 

Simon loves a cat and mouse game. The most dangerous game. A game that ends with catch but never release.

And Johnny's always more than happy to oblige him. He's even better at it, in a way. Simon skulks and sticks to shadows, where Johnny roams in the sun, smiling at old women and babies, chatting up whoever's behind him in the check out line. Finding a mouse is never hard for him.

Tonight’s mouse is a touch too skittish for Simon’s liking. Even though he enjoys them scared, the last one pissed herself when he threw her over his shoulder. He wasn’t a fan.

Still, Johnny likes you. Simon would never deny him, though you do throw a curveball.

You’re scared, but you’re smart. You pick up on them sooner than your predecessors, head half turned over your shoulder, clocking the shadow from the corner of your eye. Survival instincts lead you to stick to the crowded street, avoiding the left you’d usually make to head home to your apartment. You zig, cross to the other sidewalk, you zag, weaving through couples and groups of people taking their time, you have your keys between your knuckles.

You’re managing until you make the fatal error.

The train.

Why do they always think a confined, underground space is a good choice?

One time they chased a mouse through a fucking tunnel.

Made her pay for it, at least.

Simon laughs out loud, Johnny chuckling in his earpiece. “She was doin’ such a good job.”

“Just as well. I’m getting hungry for dinner.”

“Are you having fun?” Simon cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest, and you shake your head rapidly, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. His cock grows heavy, and he squeezes it over his pants, Johnny licking his lips. Fuck. He loves it when they cry.

“Fun?” You croak, confused little wrinkle in your brow. “Wh-what?” Your mouth is hanging open too, and without thinking, he rams his fingers into it, shoving them back past your tongue until you gag. Johnny clicks his tongue, strokes your jaw before cupping it, immobilizing the hinges and forcing it wide.

“Want to have a bite before we get ‘er home?” There’s another man in the same car, on the other end, watching. He hasn’t said anything, done anything, moved at all. He’s only watched. A sick fuck like the rest of them. Simon knows he won’t intervene, so he pulls his fly down. The man pretends to glance away.

“Have you sucked a cock before?” You make some awful hissing noise like a strangled cat.

“C’mon bonnie, hold still.” Simon forces himself past your teeth. You’re shaking so hard it’s like your bones are rattling, and when you stay frozen, Johnny guides you, dragging the heat of your mouth back and forth on Simon’s cock. It’s hot, and wet, and his toes curl. It’s like getting high, like a cigarette after a huge dinner. Euphoric. Satisfying.

The man at the other end of the car turns to give the situation his full attention, but not to stop him. Instead, his hand creeps down the front of his pants.

“Aww mouse, I think he likes ye.” Johnny’s cock is also hard, swollen against his thigh, and he rips your tense grip free from the seat to press it to his erection, kissing your temple. “It’ll be my turn, when we get home.” You try to jerk free, thrash, but it only forces the blunt tip of Simon’s cock deeper, and you start to gag uncontrollably. Johnny’s practically shivering with excitement.

“Don’t puke.” He grunts, fucking your face, slamming deep as he pumps his cum down your throat. You moan, eyes slipping closed. Defeated. Trampled under foot. Poor little mouse.

It’s adorable. You’re helpless. There’s too much going on, him, Johnny, the fucking creep still rubbing away at his crotch, and he feels bad. They should be taking better care at this point. They always need to butter them up before setting them free in the maze.

“Lights out, Johnny.” Fingers find those pressure points on your neck, and then the next thing they know, you’re slumped over, asleep on Johnny’s chest. What a cutie.

“Think we can keep her for a bit?” Simon rolls his eyes.

“We’ll see.”

[zorostitties]

Aurora; 13

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 5k

A/N: GUESS WHO'S BACK??? omg y'all. i can't believe it's been over a month since the last update. i had to let this story cool down in my brain before picking it back up. also, just a lot of things happening at the same time in my life. thanks everyone for your patience! as usual, feedback is MUCH appreciated. enjoy <3

⤕  Masterlist  ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

“Don’t scare me!”

??? looks at you with a pout and a deep frown. You roll your eyes and rest your hand on the side of your waist.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You made that noise to scare me!”

“If you keep complaining, I’ll leave you alone…”

“No!” Her scream echoes from her place at the stairs. “You know I’m scared of the dark!”

You take one more step down and groan in a very annoyed tone. “You could’ve just taken a torch from the patio if you weren’t so lazy.”

“What? You make these light balls all the time. Keep showing them off. What’s different now?”

“The difference, ???, is that your mother asked you to go down the cellar, not me. You dragged me here because you’re a lazy scaredy cat.” ??? takes one more step down. You follow her. “And it’s not a ‘light ball’, it’s a–“

“A sun sphere,” she makes a very whiny impersonation of your voice and shrugs. “Whatever.”

She’s being definitely way too annoying for someone needing help.

The sun sphere floats centimeters away from your palm. It’s not bigger than a pebble, but it’s enough to lighten the entire underground cellar. Eerie shadows are cast over the many barrels and jars that store mostly wine and ale. It always smells of wood, wet soil and grapes down here.

??? squeezes her eyes and walks deeper into the cellar. “Now, which one is it… ???, do you remember–?”

“The big one in the corner. Made of dark oak. Gods, you really know nothing.”

She turns to you with a deeper frown. “And you’re the most annoying person I know! You keep acting like that just because you can make your stupid balls of light or because you turned twelve first! No one besides you cares! Everyone says I’m cuter than you anyway!”

Your jaw drops. You tilt your head to the side. “Well, I think you care. At least I’m useful for something. All you do is braid your hair and destroy Aunt ???’s tapestries with your ugly paintings.”

??? gags; her face is now completely clouded with anger. She puts the ceramic jar she held previously on the floor and walks towards you at heavy steps, her hands tightened into fists.

“Take that back!”

Oh, that was such a grave mistake.

??? has time to see your face turn into a mischievous grin before she regrets what she was about to do.

“No–“

Too late.

You summon the sun sphere to your palm and close your hand.

The light extinguishes.

??? yells.

You run upstairs much faster than her – you were closer to the stairs since the beginning – with ??? following you shortly while screaming like a scared mouse. But you get to the top faster. You shut the door with a loud bang. You lock the heavy wooden door and lean your back on it.

You laugh while she bangs on the door, screaming and crying, until you spot Aunt ??? going down the patio to see what is happening.

You run away before she can scold you.

Juste and Alucard gathered in front of Ruby to analyze the speck of light she had just summoned.

The old Belmont hummed and held his chin, leaning down slightly to see it closer. The only way to describe what he was seeing was as a ball of light. It floated a few centimeters away from her palm obediently.

Juste stuck his finger into the ball and hummed again. It didn’t move away from his touch; his pointer finger went through it as if it weren’t even there.

“It’s not fire,” he observed with a thoughtful tone. “It even feels a little cold.”

Alucard watched him intently.

“Does it feel like Speaker magic?” the white-haired vampire asked.

“No, no. It definitely isn’t.” Juste straightened his back and rested a hand on the side of his waist. “Never seen a Speaker summon light like that.” His frown deepened. “Though it’s not really light. It’s sun, isn’t it?”

Ruby looked down at the light orb and pressed her lips.

“It’s called a sun sphere. I… think.” Her words were slow, hesitant.

“And how did you figure out you could make it?” Alucard asked.

Ruby gulped. She looked a little dazed… Juste figured she was the most shocked out of everyone at this new discovery. It was as if she didn’t even know what to do with herself.

“I had a dream. When I woke up, I just… could do it.”

“How are you summoning it?” It was Juste’s turn to ask.

“I don’t know. It’s second nature. It’s like… it’s like asking me how do I raise my arm or how do I see with my eyes.” Ruby moved her hand slightly; the sphere grew a bit larger, floating farther from her palm. “It feels as if there is a room in my mind I was not aware of. It was… locked. Hidden. Now, the door is opened and I can walk in. It was always there, I just didn’t see it.”

Juste sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

“...Yeah, I can relate to that.”

She summoned the sphere back into her palm; when she closed her hand, the sphere vanished.

Alucard crossed his arms. “So Annette was right all along. You are a witch. Your powers were just locked.”

Ruby looked down. “I’m not sure about that.” She confessed. “I also don’t know how useful this magic is other than just creating light.”

Juste chuckled dryly. “Well. It did obliterate half an army of vampires. It’d call it more than useful.”

“But that was the scepter… wasn’t it?” She definitely didn’t sound too sure of herself.

Juste wasn’t sure about that, either. He knew the scepter had some sort of magic stored in it… but what if it was just and instrument for her power, not the source of it to create such an intense spell?

The Belmont was about to make more questions – her magic was intriguing; he didn’t like the fact that he didn’t know what he was dealing with… and the thing about Belmonts is that they usually knew what the hell they were dealing with.

But he looked down at Ruby and noticed how she looked nauseous.

Alucard acted before he could.

The white-haired vampire rested his hand over her shoulder. “We should depart tomorrow morning,” he said in a calming tone. “Why don’t you get inside and have your things ready for the travel?”

Ruby looked surprised at first, then something like relief covered her features. She nodded and stepped back.

“You’re right. I’ll… see what I can do.”

She waved a small goodbye towards Juste and rushed to get into the house.

The old man sighed and crossed his arms. “Poor girl. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through.”

Alucard just looked down in response.

Paris was still noisy with repairs happening everywhere – even noisier than usual. The party last night lifted their spirits, but now it was time for the Parisians to face reality: hundreds of dead. Countless buildings destroyed. A monarchy yet to be crushed… there was much to be done.

But strangely enough, Juste felt… excited.

...Renewed? Joyful? Perhaps all of these things at once. It felt as if the veil that covered his eyes and the weight heavy on his shoulders had lifted. He felt that… maybe, Juste had found a purpose again. One that went beyond survival or killing some vampires for a few coins.

One more noble, perhaps. The one that kept the Belmont clan alive for centuries.

Talking about something being alive for centuries – Juste looked at Alucard with a quirked eyebrow.

“‘Departing tomorrow morning?’ May I ask where you’re going next?”

Alucard’s expression softened slightly, the knot between his eyebrows untied. Of course Juste was curious. He couldn’t deny that the mystique (for lack of a better word) that revolved around Alucard intrigued him. Juste spent his childhood hearing stories about the man from his father, even though the half-vampire barely spent any time with him back then.

Which was even more intriguing, in a way. Because Alucard hadn’t changed a day since Juste was fourteen. Same appearance, same voice, same… everything. It was a bit eerie how this man that looked to be around his late twenties was actually lifetimes older than him… and it was a bit eerie how this young looking man could make Juste feel like a child.

Not intentionally or in a belittling way. But Juste knew what that look meant, the slight curve up of his lips. The barely there excitement and endearment, maybe.

“We’re going to Wallachia. To the Castle… and the Belmont Hold.” There it was. Alucard knew Juste would gasp, that his eyes would widen ever so slightly. “You’ve never been there, have you?”

Indeed. Juste didn’t know exactly why his ancestors left Wallachia or why they decided to spread around Europe. He thought it wasn’t a great idea judging by how little of them still remained. Perhaps staying in the Hold would’ve been the smarter decision. But Juste wasn’t there at the time… he couldn’t judge.

Every Belmont knew about the Hold and the centuries of information, history and magic stored there. Every Belmont knew that Alucard was the official guardian of the place…

“You’re more than welcome to join us.” The vampire continued. “Richter, too, if he wishes so.”

...And it would be a lie if Juste said this invite didn’t make his heart race.

Juste was a Belmont, but he was far from knowing the glory days of his clan. He’d like to know what remained of it, how magnificent the Hold must truly be. If he said he didn’t plan this trip many times, he’d be lying. But life always had a way to drift him apart from it over and over again – because of Lydie, then because of Julia… and then, because of his inertia that lasted years.

He didn’t have any of that anymore.

And yet – once again, Juste couldn’t go.

The old man sighed and crossed his arms. “I’m honored for the invite… but I’ll have to decline. Richter decided to leave for Saint Domingue with Annette… and I just can’t leave Maria alone. At least, not now. She needs someone.”

Juste knew this better than anybody. He’d seen it up close for the past few days – her fight against the darkness within herself, the loss of her mother… the way he failed in stopping her from killing the Abbot. Juste knew she hadn’t healed from any of that yet. Maria needed guidance. Not only because she was just a child in a cruel world – Maria was a powerful magician, perhaps more powerful than anyone first assumed.

And Juste had seen that darkness in her.

That linked with magic could become a catastrophe.

Richter still hadn’t told her was leaving… Juste feared what her reaction would be. So he needed to make sure she wouldn’t feel alone. Even though, well, he wasn’t great with teenage girls.

He’d have to overcome that.

Was he doing it for Maria, for Tera, for himself or for Julia?

Did he see Julia in that short blonde girl?

Maybe.

Juste just knew he didn’t want to fail in protecting someone this time.

Alucard shrugged slightly. “The place is part yours by right anyway. You can come whenever you want.”

Juste smiled and nodded. He then quirked one eyebrow again. Talking about feeling responsible over someone…

“You took full responsibility over Ruby, huh?”

The faint smile immediately vanished from Alucard’s lips. He looked down, the knot between his brows appeared again.

“...This isn’t completely over, Juste.” His voice was quieter, as if afraid any passersby could eavesdrop. Somber. “You saw it, too. The shadow.”

Juste felt a shiver just remembering it.

He was barely awake at the time, recovering from the heavy blow Erzsebet had landed on him and Maria. He was dizzy, confused, feeling pain everywhere… but he saw it. The whirlpool of shadows surrounding Drolta’s beheaded body. The laughing thing that emerged from it.

The demon.

“That thing appeared for the Abbot, too, when he died.” Juste lowered his voice as well, caressing his beard absently. “It came to reap him.”

“He probably had a deal with this demon… and he died before accomplishing it.”

“Which means Drolta had a deal with it, too?” Juste completed his logic. “Why would a vampire so powerful fall for that?”

Alucard tilted his head to the side. Juste could almost see the gears in his mind turning relentlessly, trying to come up with new answers.

“I can’t be sure. But… they had an immortal whose blood miraculously heals in their possession for a long time.” The vampire looked at him. “This feels like something worth making a deal for. No?”

Juste widened his eyes slowly.

...That made sense. Yes, that made a lot of sense.

“Do you think she was the bargaining chip?”

Alucard shrugged. “Erzsebet drank Sekhmet’s blood to become the goddess’ vessel… and Ruby’s blood to heal herself from the process. Drolta searched for a suitable vessel for millennia. Maybe she didn’t find one. Maybe she made one that couldn’t die this time… because she had a way to heal her continuously.” Alucard held his chin in a thoughtful expression. “And it’s not only that… right after Annette managed to rip Sekhmet’s soul from Drolta’s body, Drolta tried to reach for Ruby. I’m sure she did. Why would she do something like that on the verge of death?”

“Maybe to heal herself with Ruby’s blood.” Juste guessed. “Or maybe… because she was part of the deal.”

“And Drolta knew she had to do something about Ruby to complete her part of the deal before she could be reaped.”

It’s like Juste could visualize an intricate thread form in front of his eyes as Alucard spoke. The old Belmont tapped his foot on the cobblestones floor, hummed deep in thought.

“The fact that after Drolta died, Ruby remembered how to access her magic… a non-Speaker magic that I’ve never heard of on top of that makes everything more suspicious.”

“Yes.” Alucard nodded. “I believe all the answers are with her already. We just have to find a way to open the doors to her mind. My father’s knowledge might be helpful with that.”

“Let’s be glad that Ruby is cooperative, then.”

“She wants to remember her past more than all of us.”

Juste tilted his head. “Understandable. I can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like… to have no memories at all.” He hesitated a few seconds before speaking again. “Which… might lead to some uncomfortable discoveries, aye? Maybe she became a part of all this willingly.”

“I doubt it. She also wanted Erzsebet and Drolta dead more than all of us.” Alucard looked down again. “But if it turns out to be true… I’ll deal with it.”

Juste eyed Alucard in silence for a while.

Could he, really?

Of course – he didn’t want to question legendary Alucard. This man had killed more vampires and fought more magicians than Juste could even count. But Juste also saw that the vampire was… attached to her to some degree. He just wasn’t sure how deep this attachment was. Would Alucard be able to deal with her if he found out she wasn’t innocent?

Because dealing with it meant to kill her.

But… well… considering what he had already done in the past…

Juste didn’t even want to think about it.

“If it comes down to this… how are you going to do it?” The Belmont was, once again, hesitant, choosing his words carefully. “From what I’ve heard, she’s like a vampire. Does she die like a vampire, too?”

Alucard tightened his eyes slowly.

“I’ve seen a night creature bite half of her body. Multiple organs pierced. Bones crushed to dust. Mass bleeding. She healed in an hour and half.” The vampire looked down at Juste, maybe to observe his astonishment. “I don’t know many vampires who could survive all that.”

Juste went silent for a while.

That… that sounded dangerously close to something mankind had been looking for since the dawn of time. What vampires wanted the most. They called themselves immortals, but they could be killed. And yet…

“That sounds like true immortality.”

Alucard nodded slowly in a grave movement.

Juste felt his stomach get heavy.

He shook his head. “But that can’t be. Anything can be killed. We just don’t know how yet… in her case.”

Alucard looked down again. There was something very dark in his eyes… very cold.

“Perhaps the only person that knew how to is already dead.”

It took Juste a few seconds to understand what he meant… could it be… Drolta…?

But he saw someone else approaching – and the topic ended right then.

It was the ginger boy, Henri, son of the Judge.

It was a bit funny how awkwardly he walked. The young lad always looked like a pile of nervousness – blushing, blinking, averting his gaze elsewhere… so much that Juste wondered how the hell did he survive past night. How was he even a soldier?

“Did you call me, Mr. Alucard?” The boy asked. He hardly could keep eye contact with neither of them.

“Yes.” The vampire crossed his arms. He narrowed his eyes at Henri; Juste could almost see the boy shrinking under his gaze, though Alucard didn’t sound much different from how he usually talked. “Did you tell anyone about what happened yesterday?”

The younger one widened his eyes slightly. He unconsciously gripped his recently healed shoulder. “N-No, sir.”

“This information could put her in great danger.” Alucard stepped closer and lowered his voice. “The only people that know about Ruby’s ability are me, Juste and you. So, if anyone comes after her… I’ll know it was you.”

Henri got pale.

It seems that even his lips lost their color.

It was a bit impressive how Alucard could threaten in such a sophisticated way. Henri looked between the vampire and the Belmont, both much taller and muscular than him – and Juste wondered for a second if he’d piss his pants.

“O-Of course, Mr. Alucard. I’d n-never put Miss Ruby in danger. This secret goes with me to the grave.”

Alucard nodded approvingly.

He then looked at Juste. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some preparations to make as well.”

The vampire took two steps.

Juste watched Henri intently. In the time Alucard took these two steps, it looked like there was a war happening inside the boy. Finally, before Alucard could leave–

“Wait!”

He turned around and looked down at Henri. The quirk of his brow was enough of a question.

Before, Henri got pale. Now, he got as red as a lobster.

The boy avoided his gaze and bowed slightly.

“I-I’d like to properly apologize, Mr. Alucard. For c-c-courting Miss Ruby. I… I didn’t know she was is your fiancée.”

It was a difficult task to take Alucard off guard – but Henri’s “apology” certainly did.

Juste looked from the tall one to the small one repeatedly. What is going on here?!

Henri coughed. “I-I did not mean any disrespect on you, sir. Or on Miss Ruby. Please, forgive me.”

There were a few seconds of silence.

Juste tried to muffle an incoming giggle. So the boy thought they’re a couple?

The tension disappeared from Alucard’s face once more. He chuckled lightly and closed his eyes for a moment, looking like he found the situation extremely funny.

He patted Henri’s shoulder softly.

And walked away.

Not a word spoken.

Now Juste was caught off guard.

He watched Alucard’s back as he distanced himself, suddenly remembering what he said yesterday night when Maria asked him what he was going to do from now on.

“I’ve been alone for many years. It seemed, on the whole, for the best. But last night, I saw people who have found something… new and precious and… maybe world-changing. They were not ready to surrender it. They would rather die. I think I’d like to see how that goes.”

And Juste got it.

The old Belmont chuckled and patted Henri’s back. The boy gasped in surprise.

“You aimed too high, lad.” Henri looked down with blush already covering his cheeks and ears. “But don’t be discouraged. Paris is full of beauties.”

He walked away too before Henri could feel even more embarrassed.

Apparently… Juste wasn’t the only one with a new motivation to live.

You should be packing.

Well. Not that you had anything to pack. The maid had kindly brought a few pieces of clothing and a bag, so it was pretty much everything you’d be able to carry with yourself – but all of these items were still scattered over the bed, untouched.

All you could do was sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the sun sphere.

Sun sphere. It’s how that little girl in the dream called.

As soon as your eyes snapped open, you just knew how to do it. It was easy, didn’t make you feel tired. Almost as it you’d known how to do that your entire life.

It was the second time in 48 hours that a dream revealed something about yourself.

You remembered how, under imprisonment, you barely ever dreamed of anything – and now suddenly whenever you closed your eyes, your mind wandered. What if that was also Erzsebet and Drolta’s work? What if Alucard was right and your memory was blocked by magic?

Maybe these weren’t dreams. Maybe these were memories.

You closed your hand, making the sun sphere vanish. So you were in fact a magician, as Annette suspected from the start… though Juste stated this wasn’t Speaker magic. Alucard had no idea of what it was either. When it came to you, it seems no one had any idea of anything ever. Which, quite honestly, was starting to be annoying. Of course – no one had to know anything, but the sheer lack of information was just infuriating.

Alucard was confident you’d find valuable information in his castle, however.

Dracula’s Castle.

It felt a bit strange how Alucard didn’t call the place his. His father could’ve built it, but as far as you knew, it had been his for hundreds of years already. Why, then, didn’t he feel like he owned it?

The idea of being there was both exciting and frightening. Dracula built the castle. He lived there. And for some reason, the mere mention of his name already brought chills. You should’ve already mentioned this strange reaction to Alucard at this point, though you still didn’t quite know how to approach the topic… but it had to be done, right? And soon. You couldn’t run away from it much longer.

What was also exciting and frightening was the idea that you’d travel with Alucard.

Alone.

You weren’t scared of him; not at all. But… Annette and Richter wouldn’t be there to divert his attention. It’d be just you and him the entire travel.

You didn’t know if you could manage your embarrassment around him.

Why were you even embarrassed in the first place? You didn’t know exactly. Maybe the fact that you were so attached to him already. That… didn’t feel very mature of you. And Alucard was so mature.

There was no way you wouldn’t be attached to him when you knew so little about the world. But… how did he feel about all this? What if you were being inconvenient in some way?

You shook your head as if to make these thoughts fly away.

“Pack. I should pack.” You mumbled under your breath before finally getting up.

Two changes of clothes, one of which you’d obviously be wearing. A black cloak. You folded everything carefully and put it inside the brown leather bag the maid provided. And finally… something else you felt brave enough to ask for.

A small notebook.

The cover was made of black leather with a thin strip to keep it closed. It was a little bigger than your hand. With care, you took the lily that the three little boys had given you and placed it inside the notebook to let it dry there.

You’d just written a few things yet. A couple of phrases. You found yourself embarrassed of writing anything remotely personal, even if you were locked inside a bedroom. Probably because you were still under the panic of being watched at all times.

But you were scared of forgetting the frail memories you had retrieved… or even the events that unfolded in the past week.

You hadn’t experienced any memory blackouts since you left imprisonment. You woke up exactly were you laid previously; you didn’t suddenly find yourself in situations and didn’t remember how they started. But there was no solid proof that it couldn’t happen again. What if you had to use the scepter again and it melted your brain? What if it caused memory loss? What if there was actually something wrong with your head that had nothing to do with magic?

So you decided to keep track of yourself in this small notebook.

You still had to find the right words. It was… difficult to organize your thoughts in text. Your handwriting wasn’t the best, either. But you had to try, regardless of how awkward it’d feel at first.

You felt the presence before you saw him.

Something cold. For a second, you thought it was a freezing breeze coming from the open window… but no. Something in your guts knew better. Was familiar with it. The sense of danger they brought, the darkness and the cold.

The presence of a vampire.

You turned around in a jump.

You thought your eyes were failing you at first. It… looked like smoke. Pitch black smoke materializing in the room, condensing at the darkest part of it, were the thick curtains were still covering the window.

That pitch black smoke took the form of a man.

Your first reaction was to grab the sun disk. Your heart raced, adrenaline heightened your senses to a ten. The door was quite far… if he launched himself at you, would you make it to the doorknob in time?

But then… you looked at him.

Really looked at him.

The unknown man was tall and muscular. He wore a luxurious purple and golden attire. His long straight black hair fell to the right side of his face. His eyes… vertical pupils and an eerie, supernatural shade of green, contrasting with his brown skin. They seemed to glow in the dark. Astute eyes. Almost as if you stood in front of a serpent quietly analyzing its prey. His beauty was mesmerizing.

And you remembered.

“...I know you.” Your voice was quiet. “You were at the Erzsebet’s chateau that morning.”

The vampire opened an almost imperceptible smirk.

“I’m surprised you remember.” His voice was also quiet; smooth as silk, with a bit of rasp on it.

“Are you one of her servants? Do you seek revenge?”

He shook his head slightly. His earrings tinkled with the movement.

“Oh, no. I’m more than pleased that the bitch is dead now.” His gaze was so penetrating that you felt your stomach drop. He measured you up and down slowly. “But… I’m curious about you.”

You still moved slowly, as if you were indeed facing a poisonous serpent. Alucard didn’t feel this man’s presence in the house… meaning he was certainly skilled in masking his presence. That was no regular vampire. In a way, he exhaled that same quiet aura of an old, powerful vampire that Alucard had as well.

He didn’t show any aggressiveness in his expression or body.

Which made you remember something else.

The day Alucard took you from the chateau… the words he said.

Now, let’s go. I’m already abusing the opportunity my associate gave me…

This man was there to see you help summon the eclipse.

“...Was it you?” He waited for you to elaborate. “It’s you who told Alucard about me?”

He closed his eyes for a moment and tilted his head… almost a nod.

You straightened your back and lowered your arm slowly.

“...Thank you, sir. You saved my life.”

He seemed a bit taken aback by your sudden change in behavior.

“Nothing to thank me for. I was chasing after my own interests.”

“If your interest was to defeat Erzsebet, than I should thank you even more.”

He chuckled dryly. “You’re not what I was expecting. But… it makes sense, in the end.”

“What are you talking about?” You frowned.

“I wanted to see the person Mizrak risked his life for up close.” His eyes dropped to the sun disk in your hand. “So… it was really you.”

His last sentence went completely unnoticed. Your eyes widened.

“Mizrak?! Do you know Mizrak?” You took one step closer to him. “Is he alive? Is he okay?!”

The scene of Mizrak being stabbed in the stomach didn’t leave your mind. The amount of blood that flowed from the wound, the way he pushed you inside the cathedral… and how he simply disappeared after everything. Both Alucard and Juste tried to find him, asking in several medical posts (the improvised spots where the wounded in battle were being treated) if they’d seen him, but no one received a man with the same description.

You wouldn’t have reached Notre Dame without him. The idea that he could’ve simply died was agonizing.

The vampire quirked an eyebrow softly at your inquires. “...He’s still not well. But he’ll be.”

A side of you was immediately worried for Mizrak’s life. After all… this man could’ve helped you, but he still was a vampire – and you didn’t trust vampires. But there was something in the way his serpent eyes softened almost imperceptibly at the mention of Mizrak that made you… calm down about his safety.

You tightened your eyes at him.

“What’s your curiosity about me?”

The vampire watched you in silence for some seconds.

It was unsettling how you had no clue of what was going through his mind. The ghost of a smirk stayed there… almost in a mocking way. You wondered it you really should stop worrying. You wondered if it wouldn’t be a good idea to reach for the doorknob and scream…

But his eyes dropped from your face.

They lingered somewhere lower.

Your chest. The left side of it.

And… and it seemed he was seeing something you couldn’t. Something that made his vertical pupils dilate slightly.

Finally he looked at your face again.

Opened a lip tightened smile.

“Don’t bother, my dear. I already found out.” You watched as his body started to dissipate again in a shapeless black cloud. “Farewell.”

And just like that – he was gone.

You hadn’t realized you weren’t breathing properly.

You turned around and opened the door in a rush. What the hell just happened?! Who was that man? What did he mean? What if he was dangerous? What if he was still around? Why didn’t anyone else feel his presence?! You ran down the corridor, feeling adrenaline kick in again. The stranger saved your life… and didn’t seem aggressive. But that could mean nothing.

Alucard’s room was the last. The door was partially opened, so you just stormed in–

And froze.

Alucard was in the room.

...Laying on the sofa. Asleep.

His chest moved slowly. He was too tall for it… so one of his legs was over the sofa arm, while his other feet touched the floor. His neck was in an uncomfortable position. By the way his sword was leaning on the sofa and he had a small book over his chest… he didn’t plan to sleep there.

Your entire will to warn him ended right then.

From the moment you met him… the travel from Machecoul to Juste’s cottage, then all the way down the river towards Paris… Alucard didn’t sleep once. Richter and Annette took turns on who got to sleep. You even managed to sleep some hours at the atelier.

Alucard didn’t.

He’d been awake for days straight.

How could you simply wake him up now that he finally relaxed, even if by accident?

You stood by the door for some seconds. His long wavy hair fell over his shoulders and the sofa arm like a cascade of threads made with moonlight itself. You’d never seen him so… tranquil. No knot between his brows, lips completely relaxed. It made him look younger, in a way.

Slowly, you stepped back and closed the door, afraid to make any noise.

That could wait.

A/N: SO!! after over a month i know yall were expecting dracula's castle already or hot steamy sex!! BUT!! this is a transition chapter and it had to happen before we get to the next part!! it'll all be worth it later TRUST 🙏 what i will tell you is that one of the reasons why this ch took so long is that i REALLY wanted to write what comes next, but this one had to come first. and it kinda pissed me off, so instead of, you know, getting this over with, i just laid in bed and fantasized about the parts i ACTUALLY wanted to write. which means i am motivated to write again bc i'm getting to the parts i wanted. i don't even know if what i just said makes sense lmao but ANYWAYS!! trust the process!! 🙏

[kkuras-gamer-gf]

Gameboy | Megan Skiendiel

Smut. Apologies for how short it is

Giving gamer subby g!p Megan a blowjob. That's it.

Megan was gaming; that's what she told you anyways. But that was quickly proven false when you walked by her door. Breathy moans and whines, and wet noises muffled by the door. Without a second thought, your hand turns the doorknob, opening to a sweaty and out-of-breath Megan.

The girl quickly clicked her mouse, moving so her legs were covered by her desk. Her cheeks got pink while her eyes widened while staring up at you, hoping the desk was enough to cover the evidence of what she was doing.

"What are you up to, Meg?" You ask with a knowing smirk.

"Huh? Gaming, I told you that." Voice shaky and stuttering.

"Were you watching porn, Mei?"

"Wh- no!"

"What are you hiding under the desk?"

Megan was caught; she knew it.

"N-nothing." It's barely heard; she looks down at the floor. Maybe if she looked away, you wouldn't question the blatant lie.

"Hm." You pretend to contemplate before walking over and pushing out her chair slightly.

And there it was, sweatpants pulled down just enough to reveal her cock, but not for long before panicked hands moved to cover it, not doing much due to her size.

"Don't hide, Mei-mei." Your own fingertips wrapping around her wrist.

Megan opts to move to grip the armrests of the chair, following the request. Squirming in her seat as you wrap your fingers on the base of her cock.

"O-oh."

Her hips moved on their own, bucking up into your hand.

"You're so big."

Your hand moves while you settle on your knees, thumb spreading over her tip, collecting the pre-cum that dripped.

Whimpers leave the girl's lips, eyes wide and watery with a silent plea to do more. You thought she could cum from one touch, maybe even less than that.

"Pl-please."

A kitten's lick to her slick-covered tip has her eyes rolling, head tilting back. One hand intertwining in the strings of your hand, not too harshly, an anchor for Megan.

Finally wrapping your lips around her, swirling your tongue to taste her. Subconsciously the girls hips buck up, forcing you take her a few more inches and gag as her tip hits the back of your throat.

"Fuck." It's breathless and pleading. You would've bet she was already close, "M-more."

And that's what you give her, taking her in until your nose touches the fabric of her game-inspired graphic tee.

"You feel so good." With the sound of her voice, you'd think she was crying; tears did fill her eyes, threatening to fall out of pleasure.

She was so inexperienced that even the slightest thing overwhelmed her, only her own hand being the one to make her cum.

Your lips suck at the redhead, catching the beads of liquid leaking out. The sound Megan makes is indecipherable from a moan or a sob as her fingers tighten in your hair.

"Holy shit." The ginger exclaimed.

Your head bobbed up and down quickly, making a mess of the girl quickly. The tears now dripping down her face, hips moving in sync with your mouth.

"O-oh my god. I'm so close."

Pulling off of her, stroking her with your hand, saliva and her arousal drip from your chin as you look into her glassy eyes.

"Yeah? Wanna cum in my mouth?"

"Y-yes. Please, please. Wanna cum down your throat." Head nodding furiously.

You answer by taking her fully, resuming at full speed. Megan lets out cries and whines while her eyes shed even more tears. Hips buckling, thighs shaking. White-hot liquid shoots down your throat, a hand keeping you in place as she empties out inside you.

"W-wow" is the only thing Megan thinks to say as she pulls out of your mouth, cheeks a dark red while she avoids your eyes. It was kind of pathetic, in a cute way: "T-that was good."

"Oh, Mei Mei, we're not done yet."

[sweetromanova]

Fur Better or Worse: Part Two🐈‍⬛

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff has survived aliens, norse gods and the world ending and now her cat is apparently on a mission to ruin her life, one litter at a time.

Word Count: 10k

A/N: i got so busy that i had to rush the editing and now i hate this but enjoy anyway! part three, the finale, coming tomorrow!

Chapter Two

The elevator doors barely finished opening before you charged out, storming across the floor like a woman on a mission. Wanda was one step behind you, trying and failing not to laugh. In your arms, Nova was meowing loudly, miserable and dramatic, like she was singing the theme song of her own heartbreak.

The second you stepped into the common room, the noise doubled because Liho was already there, pacing in tight, frantic circles by the balcony doors, howling like someone had taken his soulmate. Technically they had.

The whole team was gathered, half eating, half watching in muted horror as the two cats wailed for each other across the room like they were being separated in an operatic wartime tragedy.

You didn’t even hesitate. You pointed directly at Liho like he owed you child support.

“YOU.”

Liho froze mid-yowl, his tail twitched.

You turned to the room, face thunderous. “Does anyone here have any idea what this- this sleek little criminal has done?”

Clint raised his hand slowly. “He chewed through my earbuds again?”

“He bit through the laces on my shoe again?”

“He peed in my slippers again?”

“He got my cat pregnant.” You wailed. “And now my poor baby is having his little criminal kittens!”

Tony dropped his chopsticks.

Bruce made a choking noise into his tea.

Nova meowed, mournfully.

Liho howled louder.

Natasha, from the armchair, set her drink down slowly. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, don’t you dare play dumb with me.” You snapped, marching closer. “Your demon cat has been harassing her for weekend and now my cat is vomiting, hormonal and carrying his children.”

Steve blinked. “I thought we found the hanging out cute.”

“It was until he decided to just impregnate who the hell he wanted too!”

Natasha stood slowly. “Maybe if your cat had any sense of self-respect, she wouldn’t be throwing herself into other people’s ventilation systems.”

You gasped. “Are you calling my cat a homewrecker?!”

“She puked in my closet!”

“She’s nesting! It’s a natural response to pregnancy!”

“She clawed through my bra drawer!”

“Again nesting. Maybe your cat should’ve brought her a damn mouse to chase, over mounting her!”

Clint was crying into a pillow.

Sam pulled out his phone. “Hold on, I need to stream this.”

“I should’ve known.” You said, shaking your head, holding Nova like a betrayed single parent on a CW drama. “He’s got that whole ‘mysterious loner’ vibe. Teaching her how to creep in through the vents, whispering sweet nothings in the dark. My poor girl never stood a chance.”

Liho, at this point, was practically yodeling.

Natasha gestured wildly. “He’s fixed! He shouldn’t be able to do anything!”

You pointed at Nova. “Well somebody beat the odds, Natasha.”

“I- He- I’m going to get him tested. I want a paternity confirmation and an apology letter!”

“Maybe your cat should write one for the emotional damage!”

Wanda looked between the two of you, lips twitching. “Should I start knitting tiny kitten booties or…”

Thor beamed. “Will there be a naming ceremony? I can prepare the ceremonial fish platter!”

Tony held up both hands. “Alright. Let the record show I had nothing to do with this.”

Bucky leaned against the wall, deadpan. “I told you they were hooking up.”

Steve rubbed a hand down his face. “The cats, Bucky. Not the handlers.”

Wanda snorted. “Yet.”

Natasha and you turned to her at the same time. “Shut up, Wanda.”

Nova let out one last pitiful cry and Liho finally launched himself across the couch, landing at your feet, pressing against Nova like a feline soap opera reunion.

You stared.

Natasha stared.

You both looked up.

“…Well.” You muttered, arms still crossed. “I guess they’re in love.”

“Disgusting.” Natasha said under her breath but she didn’t move.

You looked at her again.

The tension was still there but now it was a different kind, you just couldn’t tell what kind. You leaned down to let Nova down, she purred softly, nuzzling Liho’s nose.

“Congratulations Grandma-“ Clint cooed before his head snapped back, a pillow launched by the redhead nearly busting his nose. “Jesus Nat-“

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The kitchen was uncomfortably quiet.

Sam, Bucky and Wanda were strategically scattered. Wanda by the tea, Sam pretending to be engrossed in cereal and Bucky standing by the fridge holding an egg like he’d forgotten what it was.

You stepped into the kitchen half-asleep, hoodie pulled over your head, socks mismatched and still holding Nova, who had developed a dramatic new habit of refusing to be more than six inches away from your body at all times.

She meowed faintly. You kissed the top of her head like a tired single parent on her third cup of coffee.

And then the air shifted.

Because Natasha walked in.

She looked perfect, of course flawless, no under-eye circles, sleek in black, with Liho slinking at her heels like a smug, silky little menace.

You didn’t say anything.

She didn’t either.

The tension was so thick you could’ve served it on toast. Natasha poured herself a cup of black coffee like she was preparing for battle.

“Nova looks… well.” She said, dryly.

“She threw up on my pillow at 3am.” You muttered. “She’s thriving.”

Liho leapt effortlessly onto the table, circling Nova with a soft trill. She gave a tired little chirp and curled against him.

Bucky glanced at them, then at you. “Guess they’re nesting?”

You sipped your coffee. “That’s how we got into this in the first place.”

 “They’re disgusting. She’s obsessed with him.”

You didn’t look at her. “Careful. You don’t want to start this again.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You implied.”

“Maybe your cat shouldn’t be so… available.”

You turned sharply. “I’m sorry, did you just call my cat a whore?”

“She’s pregnant after knowing Liho two weeks. I’m just stating the facts.”

You blinked. “You know what? Fine. She may be a whore. A glowing, hormonal, needy little one who deserves support during this difficult time.”

Bucky dropped his egg.

Natasha stared. “Support?”

“Yes.” You said, stepping toward her, calm and clear. “Kitten support. Liho has responsibilities now. I expect food contributions, litter maintenance and at least one of those heated beds from the Stark Pet Tech line. Oh and you’re also on vomit duty.”

Sam choked on his cereal. “Wait, are you serious right now?”

You didn’t blink. “Dead serious.”

Liho sneezed on the counter.

Natasha’s expression didn’t move but something in her eyes twitched. “You want me to buy your cat a pregnancy gift basket?”

“I want co-parenting accountability.”

“And what happens when they break up?”

“They won’t.” You said, arms crossed. “They’re in love. And if they do? I get the kittens every weekend and you pay vet bills.”

Natasha sipped her coffee. “You’re insane.”

You leaned in slightly. “And you’re legally responsible for child support, Romanoff.”

She didn’t flinch.

Neither did you.

The cats purred between you.

And across the kitchen, Sam whispered: “This is better than reality TV.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The emergency alert hit your comm at 1:38am. There had been an incident that required immediate attention and now Hill and Fury had you? They were sending you in to deal with the clean up. To fight the government representatives of the countries, to disagree with militaries and to hopefully walk out with your self intact. 

You were halfway asleep, Nova curled across your stomach like a heating pad when the Tower lights blinked and the override buzzed in your ear. You groaned, carefully sliding out from beneath her weight.

By the time you were dressed and geared up, she was mewling at the door, bumping her head against your boots.

Wanda appeared behind you, barefoot, hair a mess, cradling a sleepy mug of tea like she’d already seen this coming.

“I’ve got her.” She said gently, crouching down to scoop Nova up. “Go. Save the world. We’ll watch reality TV and nap in protest.”

You hesitated.

“She needs the hypoallergenic blanket, the one with the paw prints and her breakfast at 5:30, no later and she loves the yellow food, even though she pretends not to.”

Wanda smiled. “Go. She’ll be fine.”

You exhaled, nodded once and left.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Six hours later, Nova started pacing.

She didn’t want the yellow food.

She didn’t want to cuddle.

She just… cried. Quietly. Constantly.

Wanda tried everything but eventually, Nova wandered down the hallway and pawed at Natasha’s door until it slid open.

And that was how Natasha Romanoff, world-class assassin, spy, queen of emotional repression found herself blinking at a tearful, swollen, attention-starved pregnant cat, meowing like she’d lost her life partner.

Natasha stared.

Nova meowed louder.

“…Fine.”

-

By noon, Nova had claimed the left side of the couch.

By 3pm, Liho had joined her.

By 5pm, Natasha was threatening lives.

“Clint.” She snapped, eyes laser-focused from across the room. “Don’t give her pad thai.”

“She likes pad thai- Ow!” She smacked him upside the head, not hard but enough to make a point. 

“She’s pregnant. Her stomach’s sensitive. Do you want her throwing up on your shoes again?”

Clint raised his hands like she was holding a weapon.

Steve opened his mouth.

“Shut it.”

Steve closed it.

Wanda returned from a nap and blinked in surprise to see Natasha draping a blanket over both cats, Liho curled protectively around Nova like a bodyguard.

“You good?” Wanda asked, cautiously.

“I’m on watch.” Natasha said, deadpan, spooning a measured amount of ridiculously expensive, Stark-funded organic nutrient-rich cat food into two porcelain bowls.

Wanda blinked. “Is that the gourmet prenatal mix Tony got as a joke?”

“She needs the calcium.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You stood in the doorway of the common room, arms still half-armored, a smear of dried blood across your cheek, staring at the domestic miracle unfolding in front of you.

Nova was curled into Liho, purring softly. A blanket had been tented over both of them, creating a cozy, insulated nook. The lights were dimmed. A white-noise speaker was running in the background. A white-noise speaker.

And Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow, actual terrifying war machine was seated on the floor beside them, legs folded neatly, arms resting on her knees like she had absolutely not just built a sanctuary for your hormonal cat and her inconvenient boyfriend.

Feeding them from a crystal bowl.

Your jaw dropped.

“Are you… hand-feeding them?”

“Nova prefers it.” She said simply, not turning around. “She gets overwhelmed with the bowl lately.”

You walked slowly closer, blinking at the scene like it might dissolve. The expensive formula, the soft lighting and the tower of pillows built like a palace.

Nova lifted her head and gave you a sleepy meow.

“She was fussy at first.” Natasha added. “Cried a lot. Needed pressure on her lower spine. I had to improvise a heating pad situation.”

You were quiet a long moment.

“She’s okay?”

Natasha finally turned to you.

“She’s fine.”

She paused.

“…You did good.”

She didn’t reply to that.

“Are those… Tony’s wine glasses?”

“She likes drinking from them.”

You cleared your throat gently. “I can take her now.”

Natasha didn’t even blink. “She just got comfortable.”

You stepped closer. “Really, I can carry her back-“

“Don’t.” Her tone was cool, quick. “She’s fine here.”

You blinked. “Okay…”

“I mean, unless you want to stress her out by moving her again.” Natasha’s eyes flicked to you, casual but just sharp enough to land.

You blinked. “I… no. Obviously not.”

She stood smoothly, brushing nonexistent dust from her leggings. “She needed someone here. That’s all.”

You watched her, unsure how to respond.

“She cried when you left.” Natasha added, quieter now. “Didn’t settle for hours and she wouldn’t eat the yellow food.”

Your lips twitched. “Told Wanda that.”

Natasha didn’t smile but something softened around her eyes.

“She’s okay.” She said again, more gently this time. “She’s sleeping now. And you… look like you’re about to drop.”

“I’m fine.” You said automatically.

“You’re filthy.” Natasha said, crossing her arms. “And your eye’s twitching.”

“Battle stress.”

“You flinched at the word ‘blanket.’”

You hesitated.

Natasha glanced toward the cats. “Go. Shower. Sleep for the first time in over 24 hours. You’ve done enough.”

You paused. “You sure?”

She gave you a look. “Do I look unsure?”

You didn’t have the energy to argue. And, somehow, you didn’t want to.

“…Thank you.”

She nodded once. “Don’t mention it.”

Literally. Don’t.

You stepped back, lingering just a second too long, just enough to see her crouch beside Nova again, tucking the blanket gently closer to her side.

And as you turned the corner, you could just hear her voice, low and soft.

“Don’t worry, little menace. I’ve got you.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You’d barely slept four hours.

The crisis that had dragged you out of the Tower in the dead of night had turned into a bureaucratic avalanche the moment the dust settled. Debriefings, field reports, internal SHIELD memos, one after another after another, each one less urgent but somehow more paperwork heavy than the last.

By the time you finally escaped your comms and stumbled toward the common room, you felt like you were held together with caffeine and stubbornness.

The room was quiet.

Peaceful.

For the first time all morning, no alarms, no glowing briefings, no world-ending emails.

Just Nova, bundledin her blanket on the couch, eyes half-lidded, tail flicking lazily.

You exhaled, tension bleeding from your shoulders all at once. She looked up at you with a soft mrrp, and you dropped your bag right where you stood and crossed the room without a second thought.

“Hi, baby.” You murmured, kneeling down beside her. “Did they treat you okay while I was gone?”

Nova climbed into your lap with zero hesitation, curled into you like she’d been waiting just for this moment. You wrapped your arms around her, resting your chin on her head.

“She missed you.” Came Wanda’s voice from somewhere nearby, soft and amused.

Sam leaned over the back of the couch with a grin. “We all placed bets on whether she’d start a hunger strike or start nesting in Natasha’s sock drawer again.”

You laughed quietly. “She likes that sock drawer. Don’t judge her.”

As you scratched gently under her chin, you reached for the dish of food already set on the coffee table and tried to coax her toward it.

“Nope.” You whispered, frowning as she turned her nose. “Come on, sweet girl. Eat something.”

Nova gave a little whine and pushed further into your lap like she was personally offended at the suggestion.

Your heart jumped a little.

You had filled her bowl this morning at 5am before you had been dragged back to work and it was still full… which meant she hadn’t eaten for the whole day.

“Hey.” You said gently, nudging the bowl. “You need this, okay? You’ve got tiny freeloaders in there now. You can’t just-“

“She’s not going to eat that.” Natasha’s voice, flat and matter-of-fact echoed into the room.

You turned your head. She was leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

You blinked. “What?”

“She doesn’t eat that now.” Natasha said, walking over slowly, reaching into a drawer near the coffee station.

“She- what? She loves this brand.”

“She used to.” Natasha said, pulling out a can, matte black, gold label, clearly Stark-funded nonsense. “Now she’s decided she’ll only eat this. Vitamin-enriched. Good for her coat. Better for her kittens. Liho won’t touch it.”

You stared at her as she opened it with smooth precision, scooped a small portion into a clean glass bowl and placed it down with a little flourish.

Nova immediately perked up, tail twitching. She dove in like you hadn’t offered her food in days.

Your jaw dropped. “She’s eating that?”

Natasha sat on the arm of the couch, cool and casual. “She’s picky now. She must get that from you.”

You blinked.

Everyone else pretended not to watch the moment. Wanda took a sip of tea, hiding her smirk. Sam mouthed told you to Bucky.

You cleared your throat. “…Thanks.”

Natasha didn’t look at you, just nodded once. “She’s my responsibility now, too.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You were halfway through your first sip of coffee when you walked into the common room and found Wanda and Natasha already seated by the windows, Liho sunbathing across Natasha’s thighs like a smug rug.

Wanda looked up, smiling. “Morning.”

“Barely.” You muttered. “If this coffee doesn’t hit soon I’m gonna start chewing drywall.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “Charming.”

You ignored her, sipping again. Nova padded into the room behind you, tail flicking, rubbing her face lazily against your boots.

Wanda reached down to scratch behind her ears. “Where are you two off to?”

You yawned. “Vet check-up. Being here has its perks, Pepper got Dr Montgomery to come to the medbay. Routine stuff.”

You could feel it before you heard it.

Natasha, stiff and flat. “You weren’t going to tell me?”

You blinked. “It’s just a check-up.”

“She’s our cat.” Natasha replied coolly, folding her arms.

“She’s my cat.” You corrected, just as flat. “You’re the baby-daddy liaison.”

Wanda sipped her tea aggressively to hide a smile.

“She’s carrying my kittens, I’m coming.” Natasha said, standing like this was a military deployment.

“Why?”

“She might need me.”

“She needs vitamins and a weigh-in. Not an assassin.”

Natasha was already pulling on her jacket. “I’m coming.”

You looked at Wanda, pleading for help with your eyes.

Wanda beamed. “Have fun, co-parents.”

Traitor. 

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The vet was unfazed by the tension, which only made it worse. Nova sat on the table, purring dramatically as Dr. Montgomery performed the check-up with practiced ease.

“She’s gained a healthy amount of weight.” She said, cheerfully. “Good signs. Nice muscle tone, minimal swelling, textbook progress. She’s definitely close now.”

You beamed. “She’s doing amazing.”

Natasha hovered over the table. “She’s been napping more.”

“Very common.”  Dr. Montgomery nodded. “They rest a lot just before the nesting phase kicks into overdrive. Soon she’ll be trying to find a quiet, safe place to deliver.”

“She has a corner under my desk she likes.” You offered.

Natasha frowned. “She’s been sleeping under my bed. That’s safer. It’s quieter.”

“She doesn’t like your bed.” You said automatically.

“She hates your music.”

“She fell asleep to it last night.”

Dr. Montgomery blinked between you. “…Do you two co-parent often?”

You both spoke at once:

“No.”

“Obviously not.”

-

By the time you returned to the common room, Nova back in your arms and Liho glued to her side again, it felt like something had shifted.

Because Clint was measuring the hallway with a tape measure. Steve was holding what appeared to be a Pinterest printout labeled “DIY Kitten Nursery: Modern Boho Aesthetic.”

And Tony?

Tony rolled past on a hoverboard holding a champagne flute. “Party’s on Saturday.”

You blinked. “What party?”

“The kitten shower.” He said, casually. “Obviously.”

“What-“

“Celebrating the miracle of life. Or, more specifically, the fact that your hormonal cat is finally about to unleash four to six chaos agents upon this building, and I, for one, welcome our tiny feline overlords.”

“You’re throwing a party for my cat.”

Tony pointed the flute at you. “Our cat. And yes. Dress code is cocktail casual. Clint’s bringing streamers.”

Steve gave you a solemn nod. “There’s a gift registry. Vision compiled it.”

Thor appeared from the hallway, beaming. “I’ve been practicing my toast. ‘To Nova: may your kittens be strong, cunning and land always on their feet.’”

Natasha leaned close and muttered to you. “We’re not naming them after Norse gods.”

“You do not get to veto this party either.” Tony called. “You’re already listed as ‘Co-Mother Figure B.’”

Natasha froze. “Excuse me?”

“Well…” You grinned. “It’s official now. Want to help me pick out a dress?”

She turned toward you, deadpan. “Only if it comes with a built in exit strategy.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The party was already ridiculous.

Tony had spared no expense. There were themed drinks “Pawgronis,” “Meowtinis,” “The Pregnant Pause”, all served with cat-shaped ice cubes. There was a banner strung across the ceiling that read WELCOME, TINY FURRY AGENTS OF CHAOS. And Clint had actually put together a slideshow, with transitions.

You were halfway through a conversation with Sam about whether kittens could be trained for recon ops when someone at the bar said, casually, confidently: “Tell me you’re the mom. Otherwise, I’m about to embarrass myself.”

You turned to find Carol Danvers leaning casually against the bar, smirking like she’d just landed a jet and still had adrenaline in her shoulders.

“I- what?”

She grinned. “Cat. Pregnant. Shower. I’m guessing you’re the mom. Unless the cat planned this party herself, in which case, I respect that more.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Yeah, I’m the mom.”

“Carol.” She said, extending a hand.

“I know.” You smiled, shaking her hand. “Big fan of your intergalactic chaos.”

“And I’m suddenly a fan of domestic chaos.” She grinned. “Especially when it shows up looking like that.”

You shared a quiet moment before she nodded toward Natasha, who was watching from across the room, expression unreadable.

“Is Romanoff the co-parent?”

“Yeah.”

Carol’s grin deepened. “Hope she knows how to share.”

She gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “Catch you later.”

And with that, Carol melted back into the party.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Later, you were curled on the couch near the fire pit, Nova asleep on your lap wrapped in a blanket, the party humming around you.

The team’s laughter filled the air but your gaze kept drifting to Natasha, standing quietly nearby, arms crossed, watching.

You wanted to reach out but words tangled in your throat.

Then, without warning, Natasha’s voice cut through the laughter.

“Where’s Nova?”

Your heart stopped. “She was right here.”

Natasha’s jaw clenched. “She’s not.”

Panic fluttered inside you. “She jumped down a few minutes ago. I thought-“

“Thought?” Natasha’s voice was sharp, eyes flashing. “She’s due soon and they could come early! What if she’s scared? What if something’s wrong and no one’s there?”

The room stilled.

You swallowed hard, shame blooming in your chest. “I didn’t mean-“

“She trusts you.” Natasha said quietly, voice harsh. “And you were too busy laughing and playing at a party to notice.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you blinked them back.

“Natasha-“

“Save it. One of us needs to care about her.” With that, she was off, a mix of pure fury and red hair.

Carol stepped forward, placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “Hey. You’re not careless.” She said softly. “Nat’s just scared. She cares deeply and-“

You could tell she was just making excuses and you wanted to tell her as much but before you could respond, Tony’s voice boomed over the speakers, holding up security footage.

“There she is. Safe, sleeping on the counter with the devil’s cat.”

The party surged back to life.

But for you, the tension lingered.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Later that night, Carol guided you gently to your room. Her hand never left your back.

You weren’t sobbing, just quietly unraveling. The weight of Natasha’s words pressed on you and a few too many glasses of champagne in your system.

“She doesn’t hate you.” Carol said softly, brushing hair from your face.

You gave a bitter laugh. “She yelled at me in front of everyone.”

Carol smiled, patient and sure. “That’s love, in a way. Hard to say, easier to shout.”

You looked at her, surprised.

“She’s scared of letting you in, just like you’re scared of letting her.” Carol said. “You don’t have to figure it out tonight. Just… rest.”

“It’s not a fan fiction Carol, it’s not an enemies to lovers trope where she pulls my hair then pins me up against a wall.”

“You wish.” Carol smirked, a knowing glint in her eyes.

“What?! N- No, I don’t!”

“Get in.” She laughed, pulling back the duvet.

You let yourself sink under the blankets, Nova curling against you, Liho joining like she belonged.

“You’re good at this.” You whispered. “No space wife waiting for you?”

“Not yet.” Carol smiled. “I’ve had worse patients. Sleep well.”

She slipped out, leaving you with a quiet warmth you hadn’t expected.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Outside, Natasha waited, arms crossed, eyes narrowing as Carol approached.

“She was upset.” Carol explained, quietly. “I walked her to bed.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened. “You don’t waste time.”

“I don’t.” Carol replied. “Because she lets me. And because I don’t treat her like a problem.”

Natasha’s eyes flickered with something deeper.

“She’s brave. Ridiculously competent. But you make her feel like she’s always fighting for your respect.”

“She doesn’t know what it’s like.”

“No, you don’t.” Carol said softly. “But if you don’t start saying something soon, you’ll lose her.”

Carol turned and walked away.

Natasha stood alone, burning with frustration, no longer sure who she was angry at.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The following week, you watched as the warehouse loomed ahead, shadows spilling from broken windows and rusted metal doors. The mission was straightforward, a low-risk extraction from a small gang holding a key informant. Nothing Natasha couldn’t handle in her sleep but this was about the recruits getting hands-on experience. She’d volunteered to come along, not to lead but to oversee. Let them take control. Learn.

Cole, the lead agent for the group, strode ahead with a confidence that teetered on arrogance. Mid-twenties, fresh-faced and full of swagger. 

Natasha’s gaze flicked to him briefly then back to the building’s darkened entrance. She folded her arms and kept pace behind the team.

Over comms, you guided the operation from a safe distance, your voice calm and steady. “Team, remember the plan. Move in quietly, secure the target and extract without engagement if possible.”

Cole’s voice crackled back, a little too casual. “Got it. Keep your eyes sharp, team. We’re in and out.”

The initial approach was textbook. The recruits moved efficiently, clearing rooms and coordinating through whispered comms. But as they neared the target’s location, Cole’s tone shifted. He began issuing commands that bent the plan, rushing corners, skipping the usual checks, ignoring your calls for caution.

You tried to smooth it over through the earpiece, your voice calm but firm. “Cole, hold your position. We need to stick to the plan. Check the hallway before moving forward.”

Static flickered, then Cole’s voice came through, rough and impatient. “Comms are useless in the field. I’m done babysitting through an earpiece.”

You held your ground. “Negative, Cole. Comms are your lifeline. You follow orders or you’re off the mission.”

“No way.” He snapped, tone edged with arrogance. “I don’t need some voice telling me what to do. I’m the one out here.”

You bit back a sigh, fingers tightening on the device. “That ‘voice’ keeps you alive. You think you’re hotshot? You’re not a solo act.”

“Protocol’s for rookies.” His voice spat out like a challenge. “I’m moving in.”

You were about to reply before a rough voice echoed through your comms, cutting through the static like a blade.

“Cole.” Natasha growled. “Drop the ego and listen carefully. You’re not only risking your life, you’re risking everyone else’s because you’re too dumb to follow simple orders.”

The comms fell dead silent for a heartbeat, the weight of her words hanging in the air.

“You disrespect the team. You disrespect comms, who’s keeping you alive right now. You want to prove you’re some lone wolf? You’re not. You’re a damn liability.” You heard the stuttering of Cole, an attempt of trying to argue with her you imagine. “You think you’re better than the rest of us? You’re not. You’re reckless, selfish and one bad call from you gets us all killed.”

Her voice didn’t waver. “Pull your head out of your ass, fall back and get your ego in check. Or I pull you off this mission right now. No second chances.”

You heard Cole’s defiant breath catch, his resistance crumbling. “Understood.”

Natasha’s tone softened just enough to be deadly serious. “Good. Now, listen to your team, follow orders and maybe you survive this day.”

You took the comms back, voice steady and firm. “Thank you, Agent Romanoff. Cole, you’re with the team now. Move smart, watch each other’s backs. Jeffries, you take lead.”

The squad snapped into formation, the tension broken but the lesson clear.

The extraction went smooth, the team working like a well-oiled machine.

When they reached safety, you let herself exhale, a small approving smile flickering across your face. 

It wasn’t apologies or polite conversations, far from it but it was a start. She defended you and that was enough.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The common room was a quiet sanctuary after the chaos of the day. The overhead lights were dimmed to a soft glow, casting gentle shadows on the worn leather furniture and the scattered blankets tossed across the floor. You paused just inside the doorway, your eyes drawn immediately to the couch.

There, curled into a surprisingly peaceful heap, was Natasha. Nova lay nestled in her lap, purring softly, eyes half-closed in contentment. Natasha’s fingers moved deliberately, brushing through the cat’s fur with a careful attentiveness, like she was checking, making sure Nova was truly okay.

You hesitated, not wanting to disturb the rare moment of calm. But the silence felt fragile and precious, so you quietly eased yourself into the armchair nearby. The leather creaked softly beneath you.

“Hey.” You said, voice low, almost unsure.

Natasha’s sharp eyes lifted from the cat to you, the faintest trace of surprise flickering there before settling back into her usual guarded expression. “Hey.”

For a beat, neither of you spoke. Nova stretched luxuriously, a tiny meow escaping before she settled again, curling her tail around Natasha’s wrist.

You cleared your throat, the words feeling heavier than they should. “About earlier… on the mission. When you stepped in with Cole.”

Natasha’s gaze shifted, looking away just a bit. “I was there. Had to say something.”

You smiled softly, warmth blooming in your chest despite the lingering tension. “I know. Still… thank you.”

She shrugged, voice casual but softer than usual. “Just doing my job.”

You didn’t let it go. “No, Nat. You don’t have to act like that. I mean it. You didn’t have to defend me.”

Natasha’s eyes met yours, the hardness peeling away just a little. “I’m not great at showing it.” She admitted quietly. “But I care. More than I let on. About the team, about the missions, even about her now.” Nova gave a small purr, like she understood just how she had worked her way into Natasha’s heart and buried deep.

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of relief and something like hope. “It means a lot.”

Nova shifted, nudging her head against Natasha’s palm, purring louder. You both watched the cat for a moment, the gentle rhythm a balm to the hard edges between you.

“Have you thought about names yet?” Natasha asked, breaking the silence.

You chuckled, the sound light in the dim room. “Yeah… I’ve been calling them beans for weeks. It’s getting old.”

“I will not have Liho’s offspring be called ‘beans’.” Natasha mocked with a half-smile.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you suggest?”

Natasha paused, fingers stroking Nova’s fur thoughtfully. “The guys think we should name them after us.”

You smiled, picturing the kittens slipping silently through the room like a tiny mini avengers. “I like it. Like what?”

“I don’t really know.” Natasha shrugged. “Widow’s too one of the nose.”

“I like it.” You smiled. “Vision’s would be like google or something.”

She laughed. “As long as Clint gets the dumbest kitten, the runt.”

“What do you want to do with them? I don’t think we can keep however many kittens in the tower.”

“Tony’s already turning the conference room next to his lab into a sanctuary so I don’t think we’ll have a choice there.”

Nova flicked her tail as if in agreement while Liho climbed up on your lap, his eyes never leaving Nova who was perched on his own mom.

For a long moment, the four of you simply existed together, no walls, no guards, just the soft purring of a cat and the unspoken peace between two people learning to trust.

You shifted slightly, feeling something unspoken settle in your chest. “Thank you, Natasha.”

Her fingers paused, then she gave Nova’s fur one last careful stroke before settling her hand on the armrest. “It’s the least I can do.”

The night stretched on, soft and easy, and for the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to just be here, with her, and with Nova, the little chaos agents inside her belly who somehow brought you both together.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Nova was pacing the edge of the rug like she was contemplating world domination… or at least how to conquer the couch. Her belly swayed with each dainty step, fur fluffed and twitchy with frustration. You sat on the floor nearby, watching her struggle to calculate a jump she used to make in seconds.

“She’s trying.” You said softly, voice half-laced with encouragement, half-laced with dread.

Nova crouched like she was going for it then hesitated. Her tail flicked. She turned a little, repositioned and tried again, only to stop at the last second with a soft, pitiful chirp.

“She’s going to hurt herself.” Natasha murmured behind you and you hadn’t even noticed her enter.

You didn’t turn. “She doesn’t want help. She wants to prove she can still do it.”

“She can’t.” Her voice was level but not unkind. “Not like this.”

Another mewl. A shuffling of paws. Nova tried again.

You both moved at the same time. Your hands reached toward her belly just as Natasha’s did. And suddenly skin. Warmth. The whisper of a pulse. Her fingers brushed over yours and the static hit so fast and sharp it almost startled you backward.

But you didn’t move. And neither did she.

For a beat, neither of you looked at Nova. You were both frozen in the half-second between impulse and meaning. The pads of her fingers grazed the back of your hand, and her palm hovered just barely over your knuckles.

You finally looked up.

So did she.

Her eyes met yours and they weren’t sharp or cold or mocking. They were open, a little startled, a little searching. The tension that had always lived between you felt suddenly… different. Like it was bending instead of bristling.

Nova gave a frustrated huff beneath you both and you blinked, your voice soft and automatic.

“Careful.” You murmured, a smile tugging faintly at the corner of your mouth. “Wouldn’t want to add you to the list of emotional liabilities.”

It was almost a joke. Almost.

Natasha’s mouth twitched. Not a full smile but close. “Please.” She said. “I was a liability the second Liho fell in love with her.”

The silence that followed was electric. Not uncomfortable but tight. A pressure that hummed under your skin, made your spine straighten just slightly, your breath catch for no reason you wanted to examine too closely.

Her hand was still half-over yours.

You felt her thumb brush the edge of your finger, maybe an accident. Maybe not.

You swallowed.

“She needs a ramp.” Natasha said suddenly, pulling back like she hadn’t just accidentally caressed your hand. Her voice was a little sharper now. A little too casual. “She’s going to try that again. Could hurt herself.”

You leaned back on your heels, exhaling through your nose. “You offering to build it?”

Natasha shrugged. “You offering to supervise?”

“Only if I get to judge your carpentry skills from the couch.” You said, tilting your head with a lazy smirk.

She turned toward you slowly, eyebrow arched.

“You planning to heckle or supervise?”

You shrugged. “Both. I’m very efficient.”

Her lips twitched. “You’re very annoying.”

But she didn’t really sound annoyed. Nova, unaware of the war crimes occurring above her head, decided she was done pretending. She turned away from the couch entirely and flopped against your knee with a dramatic sigh.

Natasha watched her with something soft in her eyes, the kind of softness she probably didn’t know how to weaponize.

“She’ll make it.” She said. “Even if she’s stubborn about asking for help.”

You weren’t sure if she meant the cat. You weren’t sure if she meant you.

But you felt it settle between you anyway, something quiet, something new, something that might’ve been a beginning.

And for once, you didn’t push it. You just let it stay.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The common room had that rare, golden-hour stillness that came when the team wasn’t saving the world or arguing about movie nights. The overhead lights were dim, the hum of the Tower barely audible, like even the building knew to keep quiet.

You were half-asleep on the couch, hoodie rumpled, mismatched socks barely hanging on, Nova curled up like a warm, purring furnace across your stomach. Her tail flicked occasionally, her tiny breaths syncing with yours. You didn’t dare move.

You weren’t fully asleep, not really, just in that floating space where your body refused to shift and your brain had softened to a low, warm hum. You didn’t hear the soft pad of footsteps. Or the faint sound of someone setting down a mug.

You did feel the change in the air.

And then, gently, a blanket.

It brushed over your legs first, slow, careful, tucked with surprising precision. Then up over your waist, your chest, your shoulders. Hands you knew could break ribs were now smoothing fleece across your hoodie like they were afraid of waking you.

You cracked one eye open.

Natasha.

She was standing beside the couch, gaze fixed on the blanket like it might misbehave if she didn’t supervise it personally. Her hair was tied up in a loose knot, a few strands falling around her face. She wore leggings and a long-sleeved shirt, soft cotton instead of kevlar.

You watched her for a moment, quietly.

“Thanks, co-parent B.” You murmured, your voice raspy with sleep and mischief.

She froze.

You bit back a smirk, still mostly horizontal. “Didn’t know blanket duty was in the shared custody agreement.”

Natasha’s eyes flicked down to meet yours, narrowed but not annoyed. If anything, she looked caught. Like she’d been busted doing something too kind.

“I was making sure the menace didn’t freeze.” She said smoothly, nodding toward Nova.

“Sure.” You whispered, eyes closing again. “You’re very devoted.”

“I’m very practical.”

“Mmm.” You hummed. “Is that what you call it when you fold corners on blankets?”

She didn’t reply immediately.

The couch dipped a second later, barely, just enough to register like she’d sat down on the far end. Not close enough to touch. But close enough that if either of you leaned, the space would close fast.

Nova let out a contented purr, shifting slightly on your stomach. You cracked one eye again. Natasha was sitting cross-legged at the other end of the couch, elbows on her knees, gaze fixed on the cat like she hadn’t just delicately tucked you in and gotten caught doing it.

You watched her from beneath your lashes.

“She adores you.” You said softly, watching Nova reposition to stare at Natasha. 

“She’s needy.” Natasha replied, without heat.

“Cats don’t fake affection.” You said. “You know that.”

Natasha didn’t answer but her hand reached out a moment later and with quiet fingers, she brushed a stray hair off Nova’s ear.

You watched it all happen from a little away and realised, with a soft, sinking awareness, that the flirty comments and quiet arguments were just the surface. Beneath that? She cared. Quietly and intensely. And maybe, just maybe, not just about the cat.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The next morning, you found Natasha in the kitchen, hair still damp from a shower, sleeves pushed up as she methodically cut apple slices on the counter. Liho watched like a judgmental sous-chef from atop the fridge, tail twitching.

Nova had taken over one of the bar stools, belly spilled to either side like a dramatic pillow. She blinked slowly at you, utterly unbothered.

“You’re up late.” Natasha said, without looking up.

You rubbed your face, yawning. “Champagne dreams. Regret-flavoured mornings.”

You had been dragged into one of the senior leaders office parties last night, one of the higher ups was moving over to London to work from the base there and he had come to his last day at work armed with nothing but champagne.

“You say that like you didn’t finish a whole plate of cookies at 2am.”

You blinked at her, startled. “You were watching?”

“I was in the dark. You were talking to the cat about cookie strategy.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please let me die.”

“Denied.”

You lowered your hands to find her setting a mug of coffee in front of you. Perfectly made. Just how you liked it. No commentary, no teasing.

You looked to the cup, to her face and then back to the cup. “You memorised how I like it...”

Natasha finally met your eyes. “It’s not hard to remember…” 

“But you noticed.”

“I notice a lot.” She shrugged off.

And just like that, you forgot every coherent sentence you’ve ever known.

Before you could formulate a reply, Nova let out a long, dramatic meow and rolled slightly off the stool. You both moved at once, your hands steadying her front, Natasha catching her back paws before she could slide off entirely.

The world paused for a second. Your arms brushed again. Her breath hitched. And then she laughed, really laughed, breathless and surprised, like she wasn’t expecting it. You stared at her, momentarily stunned by the sound.

“She really knows how to milk it.” You said, watching as she scooped Nova into her arms and cradled her like a spoiled child.

She smiled softly. “Wonder where she gets that from.”

“That’s getting old.” You nudged her knee lightly with yours, eyes narrowing with mock offence. “At least try to come up with new material. We’re practically raising a family together."

Natasha tilted her head, one brow raised. “If that was an attempt at flirting, it’s outdated and transparent.”

“Who said I was flirting?”

“Weren’t you?”

Maybe...

“Did it work?” You grinned, watching her try to hide her smirk. “It definitely worked.”

"Lame." She scoffed. "You need to teach your mommy how to get a partner, Miss Nova." She baby-talked to the cat, while you rolled your eyes.

"Please! If I learned from her, I'd be months deep in pregnancy with baby Widows already."

“Who said it had to be my babies?” She said with a sly smile, eyes glinting like she was holding a secret. “Could’ve been Wanda’s. Or Maria’s.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, sure."

"No, really."

"Nat, come on, we both know it’s never really been about anyone else. Even when we hated each other, the guys called it sexual tension."

She stepped closer, voice dropping to a tease. “Only ever about me, huh?”

You matched her smirk, heart ticking faster. “Always Grandma B."

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Later that afternoon, the two of you sprawled on the living room rug, building what could loosely be described as a kitten ramp but more accurately looked like a toddler-sized assault course. Natasha insisted on testing each level for ‘stability.’ You insisted on naming every platform after random European cities.

“Why is this one called ‘Budapest’?” She asked, tightening a bracket with unnecessary force.

You paused then grinned. “Felt dramatic.”

She rolled her eyes but her smile lingered.

Nova watched the construction from a nearby pillow like an overworked foreman. Occasionally, she meowed disapprovingly. Once, she sneezed on a screw. Natasha took it personally.

You didn’t know when it happened, how the silence between you became something comfortable instead of sharp. You didn’t know when the way she looked at you stopped feeling like assessment and started feeling like awe she was trying to hide. But it was there.

In the way she leaned into you when you handed her a wrench.

In the way she called Nova 'our girl' without thinking.

In the way she touched your wrist when you reached for the same screw, soft and grounding.

That night, Nova tested the ramp and declared it acceptable by immediately climbing halfway and falling asleep on it like a loaf.

You were on the couch again. Natasha next to you. Not touching. But almost.

“She’s been sleeping more.” You said, voice hushed in the gentle dark. “Eating less.”

“It’s normal.” Natasha’s voice was low, even. “She’s close.”

You nodded, heart tight in your chest.

“What if something goes wrong?” You asked, the words escaping before you could stop them. 

Natasha didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was barely audible.

“Then we’ll be there.”

“But we work and if we were to be in-“

“Friday is monitoring her, the minute something changes then we’ll know.” Natasha reassures. “I don’t care if I’m in the middle of an interrogation or sparring with Fury himself, I’ll be here.”

You looked over at her.

Her eyes were on Nova but her hand slowly reached over and found yours. Fingers slipped between yours like they’d done it before. Like they could do it again.

You didn’t breathe. You didn’t speak. You just let it happen.

Outside, the wind whispered across the glass.

Inside, Natasha held your hand. You held hers back.

And Nova dreamed softly, belly warm and round, as if she knew her world was ready now.

Ready for what comes next.

But not yet.

Not just yet.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The operation had been smooth so far, by the book. You were seated in front of the central monitors, headset snug, voice calm and clipped as you fed updates to the team.

“North corridor’s clear. Garcia, take the left flank. Morgan, back up perimeter sweep, west alley. You’ve got a heat sig moving low, could be a crawlspace leak or-“

BEEP.

Friday’s voice cut in, sharp and immediate over all channels.

“Apologies for the interruption. Nova is currently displaying signs of distress in Rec Room 3. Elevated heart rate, vomiting, abnormal vocalisation detected.”

The air changed.

You froze. Every monitor around you kept streaming mission feed, bodies moving, infrared mapping, blinking threat markers. But all you heard was vomiting.

“Nova?” You said, already shoving your headset off.

“Friday, details now.” Natasha snapped in the background, her own comm crackling with static as she veered off her patrol route without hesitation.

“She vomited twice, she’s pacing and whining. Elevated temp detected.”

Steve’s voice cut through, authoritative and calm. “I’ve got mission control. Go.”

You didn’t argue.

Neither did Natasha, she was already up and throwing her headset into Barton’s hands, who caught it clumsily.

Clint’s voice came in dry, like he knew he’d lost control before he’d even tried. “Uh, guess I’m Natasha now. Do I get the cool belt?”

You were already halfway down the hallway.

You and Natasha stood shoulder-to-shoulder, both still in partial gear, hers scuffed with dust, yours slightly askew from where you'd ripped the headset off.

Neither of you spoke at first.

“She was fine this morning.” You finally said, breath short.

“She was quiet. Too quiet,” Natasha murmured, almost to herself.

The elevator doors opened.

You heard the soft, rhythmic sound of someone murmuring before you even crossed the threshold.

Inside, the lights were low. Wanda sat cross-legged on the rug, Nova curled in her lap. A small towel was folded nearby, used and damp. Nova’s fur was matted near her mouth, her body trembling slightly, eyes squinted shut.

Wanda looked up at the two of you, calm but with that clear look of concern she never bothered hiding.

“She threw up twice. She’s shaking a bit, and her stomach’s tight. I’ve been keeping her calm.”

You sank to your knees beside her immediately, one hand reaching out to touch Nova’s cheek. She gave a weak little meow and nudged into your fingers. Your heart cracked in half.

Natasha crouched opposite you, scanning Nova’s body like she was going to memorise every possible failure point and fix it with sheer will.

“Friday?” Natasha called tightly.

“Vitals are steadying. Nausea likely stress or dietary-related. However, caution is advised. Please consider veterinary consultation.”

“She didn’t eat anything weird.” You said, voice already trembling. “I would’ve seen it-“

“She’s okay.” Wanda reassured, cutting you off gently. “It looked worse than it was. She’s calming down now. But I didn’t want to move her until you were here.”

Natasha let out a breath like she’d been holding it the entire mission.

She reached out and gently ran her fingers down Nova’s back, something slow, methodical, like she needed the contact to believe it.

“She’s warm.” She whispered.

“She’s pregnant.” You said softly. “Everything’s gonna feel wrong until it’s over but she’s never like this over eating something that didn’t agree.”

“Her stomach is sensitive.” W

Natasha’s jaw worked but she didn’t say anything. Her hand stilled on Nova’s side.

“She needs quiet.” Wanda said, standing slowly and brushing off her hands. “And probably to not watch Clint crash into anything on the TV again.”

You gave a weak laugh, more exhale than humour.

Wanda touched your shoulder, then Natasha’s, and slipped from the room. “I’ll go give Dr. Montgomery a call, see when she can get here to check her over.”

You stayed on the floor, in a halo of silence.

Natasha eventually eased herself down beside you, her knee bumping yours. She didn’t ask permission when she took your hand, she just did. Like she needed it more than she needed air.

“She scared me.” She whispered, her fingers trembling a little in your own.

You nodded. “Me too.”

“I hate not knowing what’s wrong.”

“That’s what makes it terrifying.” You said, voice breaking gently.

Nova let out a small, pitiful sound, but it was softer now, sleepier even. Her head curled tighter into your lap, tail flicking once.

Natasha squeezed your hand. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

And for once, you believed it.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of veterinarian medical equipment Tony had installed weeks ago just in case. Nova lay curled in a plush blanket on the exam table, a small towel beneath her and a thin monitor gently pressed to her side. Her ears twitched occasionally but her eyes were half-lidded now, her breathing even.

You sat off to the side, hands clasped tightly in your lap. Your mouth was dry. You hadn’t said a word since Dr. Montgomery walked in. Natasha stood by Nova’s table, arms crossed tightly, but not with distance, with precision. She wasn’t looking away. Not once.

Dr. Montgomery finished her gentle palpation of Nova’s belly and straightened up with a soft sigh.

“She’s stable.” She announced, voice measured and calm. “The vomiting isn’t ideal but her vitals are steady and there’s no sign of dehydration. Her temperature’s a little elevated, but that’s not uncommon in late gestation.”

You nodded slowly. You weren’t sure you even heard her. The phrase not uncommon had all the sharp edges of could still go wrong.

“She didn’t eat anything toxic?” Natasha asked, eyes sharp.

“Not that I can tell. Did you use anything different?”

“No.” You finally spoke, voice hollow. “She had the same soft mix she always does. The chicken one she likes. It was fresh. I checked the date twice.”

Dr. Montgomery gave you a soft look. “I believe you. You’re clearly attentive.”

“She didn’t fall?” Natasha asked. “Or strain herself? She tried to jump earlier-“

“She gave up.” You added, quietly. “She looked… defeated. I thought she was just tired.”

“Could this be early labor?” Natasha pressed, refusing to let up. “Or distress? What about fetal movement? Should she be this still?”

That made Dr. Montgomery smile faintly, not unkindly. Like she was used to the over-prepared, over-attached types. But her tone remained even.

“I’d be more concerned if she wasn’t resting right now. She's holding tension in her lower belly but I don’t feel contractions. And no discharge. The vomiting may have just been a response to the increased pressure. Her body is under strain.”

“So we wait…” You said, more to confirm than to question.

“We wait.” Dr. Montgomery agreed. “Keep her hydrated. Watch for nesting behaviour or changes in breathing rhythm. If anything shifts, I mean anything then you call me. You don’t need to wait for a second symptom. Just one.”

You nodded, slowly but it still felt like something heavy was caught behind your ribs.

Natasha asked, “Can she sleep with someone tonight? Someone she’s used to?”

Dr. Montgomery glanced down at Nova, who was now lazily pawing at the blanket like she was fluffing a cloud.

“I’d say she won’t sleep unless she is with someone. Whoever’s got the most experience handling her, that’s who she needs.”

You didn’t have to ask. Nova’s slow tail twitch in your direction said it for you.

“Me.” You said, quietly. “I’ve got her.”

Dr. Montgomery packed her bag with smooth efficiency, glancing at Natasha as she worked.

“You ask good questions.” She noted. “Most people in this situation either panic or assume they know best. You just interrogated me like I was a suspect on trial.”

Natasha gave a faint shrug. “I don’t like mistakes.”

“Neither do I.” The vet replied. “But cats don’t work on logic. Sometimes they just scare the hell out of you for no reason.”

She looked between the two of you. “She’s strong. She’s got good instincts. And more importantly, she trusts you both. That’s not nothing.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened like she didn’t want to let that mean anything. But she did nod.

Dr. Montgomery headed toward the door. “Call if anything changes. Even if you think it’s small. And maybe try to breathe, yeah?”

You nodded again, too fast and too stiff.

After she left, silence settled again.

Natasha finally turned fully toward you. Her voice dropped, gentle but grounded.

“She’s okay. Right now, she’s okay.”

You didn’t answer right away. You were still looking at Nova, curled up, purring so softly you could barely hear it.

“I hate this part.” You whispered. “The waiting. The not-knowing.”

Natasha moved beside you, lowering herself into the seat just next to yours. Her shoulder pressed against yours, solid and warm.

“We do it together.” She reminded you. “You watch her, I watch you. No one's doing this alone.”

You nodded slowly, then leaned just slightly into her. Not much. Just enough to stay upright.

Nova let out a soft snuffle in her sleep and shifted onto her back, exposing her swollen belly.

You both reached for the blanket at the same time.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The door had barely clicked shut behind Dr. Montgomery before the room fell quiet again. Nova stirred, shifting with a small grunt, pressing her face into your side like she was done being the center of attention.

You exhaled slowly, brushing a hand through her fur, eyes still a little unfocused from the adrenaline.

Natasha didn’t move.

She stood just beside the med table, one hand on the edge, knuckles pale. Her gaze was fixed on Nova, but not quite. She was watching and thinking and bracing, like if she looked away, the worst might slip in unnoticed.

You glanced up at her.

“You okay?”

Natasha didn’t answer right away. Her jaw flexed. Then, quietly, too quietly for her usual sharp voice, she said: “I don’t want to leave her.”

It landed in your chest with a strange kind of heaviness, warm and vulnerable and so plainly honest it made your heart stutter.

You nodded once. “Then don’t.”

She blinked, finally looking at you. Like she hadn’t expected permission. Like she never gave herself that option.

You shifted gently, standing up, careful not to jostle Nova. “There’s room. If you want.”

Natasha hesitated, just for a moment. Then she nodded. No quip. No tease. Just okay.

The two of you moved quietly, heading straight back to your apartment, Liho joining you along the way.

Once you’d reached, you laid Nova gently on the covers, where Liho immediately jumped up to fuss her, licking her fur and curling around her body.

Without thinking twice, you threw a pair of pyjamas at Natasha, not bothering asking before sliding your own on.

Methodically, she toed off her boots with practiced efficiency, slipped into the standard pyjamas you gave her before lowering herself onto the bed beside you. Close but not touching.

Nova stirred again and lifted her head groggily at the movement, only to drop it instantly when Natasha reached out and smoothed a hand gently between her ears.

“She’s alright.” Natasha murmured, more to herself than to you. “She’s alright.”

You pulled the blanket and draped it over the both of you. The movement brought your legs close, then your arms. It wasn’t intentional but neither of you pulled away.

For a while, you both just sat there.

Nova’s breathing slowed. The soft hum of the Tower filled the silence.

Then, softly: “You always this brave with your feelings?” You asked, half a smile tugging at your lips.

Natasha huffed a quiet breath through her nose. “No.”

You turned your head to look at her.

She was already watching you.

“It’s easier…” She said, voice low and even. “When it’s not mine.”

Your smile faded just slightly, not gone but softened. “Then let it be mine.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed faintly.

“I’m scared.” You admitted, with a shrug. “But at least I’m not alone. I like that I'm in this with you.”

Something shifted behind her eyes. Not fear or tension but something warmer, heavier.

She reached out, slow and careful and settled her hand lightly over yours where it rested on Nova’s side.

Her grip wasn’t tight. But it didn’t have to be.

You didn’t say anything more.

You didn’t need to.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

The soft buzz of morning filtered in through the Tower’s tinted windows, casting a honey coloured glow across the common room. Everything was still, the kind of rare stillness that came only when no one wanted to break it.

Nova was curled like a comma between you both, small, warm, breathing steadier than it had the night before. Her little nose twitched in her sleep. Occasionally, she let out a tiny, contented snore.

You were half on your side, face buried against pillow, your hand still loosely curled near Nova’s belly.

And Natasha?

Natasha was behind you.

One arm wrapped snugly around your waist, her forehead tucked against the back of your neck. Her breathing was deep and even, but not quite asleep. You could feel it in the way her thumb idly traced the hem of your hoodie, slow and absent like a reflex she hadn’t realised she was doing.

Neither of you had spoken yet. The moment felt too fragile. Too good.

Then came the knock.

Three light taps against the front door.

You blinked.

Before you could sit up, the door slid open with a faint hiss.

“Hey.” Wanda’s voice came gently, “I just wanted to check on-”

She stopped.

Her eyes landed on the scene in front of her and she froze. First at the sight of Nova, comfortably snoozing, clearly recovering. Then at the rest of it, the tangled limbs, the blanket askew, the way Natasha’s entire body was curled around yours like a second layer of security.

Natasha didn’t even lift her head.

She just muttered, without looking. “You can turn around now.”

Wanda didn’t. Instead, her lips pulled into a slow, knowing smile. “I could. But where’s the fun in that?”

You groaned quietly into the pillow.

Wanda tiptoed in anyway, soft and careful not to wake Nova, crouching beside the bed. “She looks better.”

“She is.” You mumbled, voice raspy with sleep.

Natasha finally opened one eye, her arm still comfortably around your waist. “Still keeping food down, she got up to eat at 4am. No fever. Sleeping normal.”

Wanda blinked at her. “You take notes in your sleep now?”

“I listen.” Natasha said simply.

You turned your face just enough to shoot her a look over your shoulder. “You also hog the blanket in your sleep.”

Natasha didn’t deny it. “You ran hot.”

Wanda smiled at the two of you, then leaned in to scratch behind Nova’s ears. The little cat let out a pleased trill, barely waking.

“She’s lucky to have you both.” Wanda said quietly.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did Natasha.

But the way your hand curled over hers beneath the blanket said plenty.

Wanda stood, giving one last fond look before heading for the door. “I’ll let you know when the rest of the team is up. I assume you’ll… eventually untangle yourselves.”

You didn’t answer. Mostly because Natasha didn’t move.

And honestly? Neither did you.

[dreamwavesexploringreality]

Foxes

Requested: Chishiya x Autistic Reader.

Where he lets the reader talk about her hyperfixations, like foxes.

--

Probably the last thing Chishiya expected after returning late from that night’s game was for Y/N to drag him up to the rooftop and sit beside him to talk.

"And did you know that foxes have different types of vocalizations to communicate? They can scream, howl, bark, and even make a strange noise called gekkering when they fight or play!" Y/N said, her words spilling out in an avalanche of enthusiasm.

Yes. Foxes. That was her latest fixation. Chishiya settled into his place, resting his head against the wall behind him and letting out a sigh. He closed his eyes, allowing the girl’s soft voice to rock him gently, momentarily easing the tension from the hours before.

"Ah! And their pups…"

"Kits," the man interrupted softly, still with his eyes closed.

"Yes! Kits! They’re born practically blind, completely dependent on their parents to survive, and they have to work together. Isn’t that amazing?"

Chishiya’s lips curled into a small smile.

"Fascinating," he whispered.

"Also, did you know they can hear a mouse moving under the snow from over a meter away? They use the Earth’s tilt and the magnetic field to hunt with precision." Chishiya couldn’t see her, but he knew she was swinging her arms to emphasize her explanation.

"I’ve heard something about it," he lied.

Then suddenly, silence took over the scene.

Chishiya opened his eyes and looked at her. She was staring at the horizon.

"Foxes are incredible," she sighed to herself, her gaze shifting to the ground as she played with her hands.

The man noticed the change in her demeanor and focused on her for a few seconds. The full moon illuminated her profile, making her glow in a special way. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, a usual sign when she talked about something that excited her.

"Why do you like foxes so much?" he asked, not looking away.

She lifted her head, staring ahead, and remained thoughtful for a few minutes. When she finally had her answer, she turned to look at him.

"Because… they adapt. They always find a way to survive, even in the harshest environments. And they’re clever. I think… I don’t know, they’re just amazing."

Chishiya gave a slight nod, a sign of understanding. He paused for a few seconds before speaking.

"So, they’re like you," he said, turning his gaze back to the wall in front of him.

The comment seemed to take her by surprise, and she didn’t respond. As the silence began to weigh on them, Chishiya turned back to her. She was already looking at him, her eyes wide, radiating curiosity and something else the man couldn’t quite discern. The silence stretched a few seconds longer, during which the world seemed to stop spinning. Then the man spoke again.

"When they’re in danger and can’t protect themselves, do you know what foxes do?"

"They seek shelter," she answered quickly.

"Exactly," he whispered, raising his eyebrows slightly. "If you need to talk, I’m here." He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.

The girl noticed her vision blur in an instant. Overcome with emotion, she took the man’s arm and buried her face in his shoulder. Chishiya was a strange man; she knew that from the moment he saw her shiver amid the chaos of a pool party and led her to the calm of this rooftop. She felt the tears slide down her cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Chishiya’s face remained calm and serene. He had slightly opened his eyes when he noticed the girl beginning to cry and hoped she had understood what he was trying to convey, even though he didn’t have the exact words for it. Using silence as his response, stillness returned between them.

By the time he realized it, the first rays of sunlight were beginning to illuminate the sky. When he turned to look at her, he found her peaceful, sleeping expression. Chishiya relaxed his shoulders, filled his lungs with air, and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift into that long-awaited dream where the world disappeared and it was just the two of them. Alone. Together... Perhaps with a fox or two wandering around the area. The thought made him laugh. He sighed. "As long as she is happy…"

© 2025 [@dreamwavesexploringreality]

---

I really hope you all like it!

I hope I captured the character well, especially when it comes to the little details of autism.

To the person who requested it, I really hope you enjoy it and that I got the character right! It’s such a fascinating topic to write about, and I loved exploring it. Can’t wait to hear what you think! ✨

[submissivebrvt]

Pretty Girls Don’t Carve Umbrellas

Summary: Daeho’s acutally a marine and a gentlemen you have feelings for him and everybody plays Dalgona in Season 1. Daeho helps you out in the game.

I saw him. Daeho. My childhood best friend-the boy I shared sidewalk chalk and slushies with, the one who used to carry my backpack when it got too heavy and secretly made my heart flutter since I was seven. And there he was... standing in the middle of this brutal, bloodstained game-looking at me with those same warm, wide eyes I used to know.

I could hardly breathe.

He'd always been such a gentleman. The way he adored his little sisters, spoke softly to animals, and was so effortlessly brave-becoming a marine like it was nothing. He never once let me feel alone, always calling me pretty in that soft-spoken, blushing kind of way. Not flirty. Just sincere. The kind of sincere that ruins you.

I never truly knew if he liked me back-he gave mixed signals, but not on purpose. Daeho was just... shy. A little clumsy with emotions. Always sweet, always nervous, always him.

And when he voted to leave the game with me? I think my heart fell straight out of my chest. Who does that anymore?

Junhee, my friend who'd been hanging out with Gi-hun, Jung Bae, and Inho, pulled me aside with that knowing smirk. "If he's your childhood best friend and you've had a crush on him for years-and if I've caught him blushing and glowing around you-girl, make a move. And if he doesn't like you back? He's a gentleman. He won't break you."

So I decided.

After the next game... I'd tell him.

No more wondering. No more waiting. Not when we were living on borrowed time.

That night, during lights out-when fear pressed heavy like fog-I laid on the bed facing him. And he, facing me. Our eyes met through the dark, and he smiled at me. That soft, angelic smile that always made me feel like the world wasn't falling apart.

I fell asleep like that, warm in the eye of a storm, dreaming of when things were simple. Studying together in elementary school, watching movies too close on the couch, volunteering at the shelters where he'd sneak treats to the animals and giggle when I scolded him.

I woke up to the sound of classical music-sharp and haunting.

We walked side-by-side, shoulder to shoulder. And just before the next game began, he gently wrapped his arm around my shoulder like it belonged there. Like I belonged there. And though we weren't dating, we moved like people who had always known each other's hearts. Quiet affection. Quiet respect. Something gentle growing between all the noise.

The guards led us through that surreal pastel maze-stairs like candy, walls like kindergarten dreams-and we arrived at the playground. Four doors. Four shapes: circle, triangle, star, umbrella.

Gi-hun whispered, "Pick triangle. It's the easiest."

I listened. Daeho didn't. He picked star.

The announcement was cruel.

Those who picked triangle were given... the umbrella.

Square got a flower.

Circle got some abstract nightmare-Monalisa triangle cookie, they called it.

Umbrella got Mickey Mouse.

And star... got a heart.

My heart plummeted when I saw what I held. That delicate umbrella etched into golden sugar. The hardest one. And Daeho? He held a heart. His fingers brushed over it like he was holding something precious.

I'd never made a honeycomb cookie. Never carved anything with a needle in my life. I didn't even know where to start.

I was going to die.

Tears welled in my eyes. I sat down and folded into myself, resting my forehead on my knees as I began to cry. All I could think about was how unfair it was-that I was going to die before I even told him. Before he even knew how much I loved him.

And then... I heard his voice.

"Hey... princess? Why do I hear you crying?"

That nickname. The one only he used, soft like rose petals. He sounded cheerful, trying to lift me up-but his eyes... they were heavy with worry. He knelt in front of me like I might break.

"I-I'm going to die. I can't do this cookie," I choked, voice cracking as I looked up at him, completely undone.

"Oh, princess..." he smiled gently. "That's not a big deal. Here."

He handed me his cookie. The heart.

"I'll do yours."

He was so nonchalant. So kind. As if swapping a death sentence for someone else was nothing.

I couldn't even speak-I just stared. But I took the cookie. I carved carefully, hands trembling. I made it. Barely. A few cracks, but I made it.

Daeho... he struggled. The umbrella was brutal. He had to lick the back, use the sun, every trick in the book. But in the end, by some miracle, we both survived.

When the pink guards gave us the nod of completion, I couldn't hold it in anymore.

As we walked back down the stairs, I touched his sleeve.

"Thank you, Daeho... for saving me."

And then, I kissed him on the cheek. Light. Lingering. Just enough to burn his skin in the sweetest way.

He stopped walking. Completely froze.

"No problem," he stammered, voice cracking as his face turned cherry blossom pink. His entire soul practically glitched.

I laughed softly. "Why'd you stop walking and freeze like that?" I asked, turning to glance back at him. "Because I think I like you, Daeho." I winked, letting it hang in the air between us.

He blinked, stunned. "Uhm... sorry-I mean, no, not sorry. I think... I think I like you too."

His voice cracked again. Flustered. Blushing.

I'd never seen him like that before.

And god...

I think he wanted me just as much as I wanted him.

[willofthequill]

She's Not Wrong

Hi everyone!! Just sharing a little drabble I've had taking up space in my brain for days now! I hope this little exchange gives you a laugh, I know it made me giggle as I wrote it! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!

For more adventures with Mouse and Sukuna, check out my Daddy Duty Series on my AO3 - Here! )

If you prefer to read on AO3 please click here !

Summary: Mouse is struggling with the adjustment to being a big sister and having a baby in the house. It's day two with two kids and Mouse has some suggestions of how to handle a crying baby.

WC: 800+

CW: Reader referred to as Mama but not described, new siblings, breast feeding, Boob humor, Dad!sukuna, dilf sukuna, family fluff, SFW, toddler dad Sukuna, girl dad!sukuna, boy dad!sukuna, true form Sukuna (4 arms),

“Papa! Put it back! It too loud!” Mouse said loudly as she clapped her hands over her ears.

Sukuna sighed and rolled his eyes. “I cannot put your baby brother back, Mouse.”

“Papa, quick! Eat him!” she said, pointing at the baby wiggling and crying in your arms.

“Mouse, I am not going to eat your brother.” Sukuna gave her an unamused glare. “I mean look at him. He has no fat on him. Meat needs fat to have flavor. Not to mention he’s even more of a runt than you were. He’s not even an appetizer at this point.” 

“Not helping,” you glared at your husband.

“Then sell him.” She said with a look of agony on her face.

“Not happening.” It was only day two with the new baby and already Sukuna was wondering if you should have decided to be one and done.

“Mouse,” you said her name, getting her attention as you tried to soothe the baby. “I know he’s loud-”

“And very stinky!” Mouse said, pinching her nose from where she sat perched on her father’s leg. She added a dramatic fanning of the air in front of her face.

“But he is just a baby. It’s only his second day on earth. Crying is the only way he can talk to us,” you tried to explain in a tired tone. 

Tired did not describe it. You were beyond exhausted. Your son, nicknamed Monkey yesterday by the same sister who wanted him annexed today, was fighting going down for a nap. 

You didn’t remember being this exhausted the first time around. Then again, Mouse had been easier to soothe and you hadn’t been simultaneously trying to wrangle and soothe a toddler who was used to having you and her father completely to herself.

Mouse pressed her lips together, a look of concentration coming over her face. She hummed in a tone you had never heard her make before as she stared down the baby still making noise in your arms. You took in her antics, trying to figure out what she was trying to do.

Sukuna arched his eyebrow at his little imp. “What are you doing, brat?”

“Shh, please and thank you, Papa. I tryin’ to understand him,” she said, leaning forward as far as Sukuna’s hand on her belly would let her go. 

You struggled not to laugh at just how serious her expression was. It warmed your heart that she had gone from trying to oust the baby to trying to understand him in a moment’s time. Maybe there is hope yet.  “What do you think he is saying?”

Mouse gave a hum before sitting back and looking up at you. “Him still hungry, Mama. Him saying give him a boob, please and thank you, Mama. Just give him a boob and he’ll go night night.” 

Sukuna choked on air, sputtering at her response. He was unable to stop his head from falling back against the headboard and the laughter from falling from his lips. You could almost swear you saw tears in his eyes as he wheezed at her wording. You narrowed your eyes, realizing he was going to be absolutely useless in this situation.

“Mouse, don’t say it like that,” you said, trying not to let your husband’s immature sense of humor rub off on you when you were trying to parent your daughter. Someone needed to act like a grown up but did it have to always be you?

“But… it not wrong, Mama,” she looked very confused. “Him hungry. You milk in you boobs. Him eat from you boobs. Him eats then him sleeps.”

“You are correct. But let's just call it feeding him, okay? No need to mention boobs when talking about eating, okay?” You said, not wanting to make a big deal out of it but also wanting to discourage the use of that phrase, no matter how accurate or amusing it was.

“Speak for yourself,” Sukuna bristled.

You ignored him and cupped Mouse’s cheek before you rearranged the baby and helped him latch. He immediately quieted down, nuzzling into your breast and resting his little hand on your chest. You kissed his head and looked at Mouse to see her giving you a smug look from the lap of her equally smug looking father.

“What’s with you two?” You asked, hand rubbing soothingly on Monkey’s back.

Mouse answered first, “Told you him was hungry.”

“It would seem you were not wrong, little Mouse. And what about you?” You asked your husband after giving Mouse a smile.

“I can’t say mine because it involves saying a word I cannot say with another word,” he smirked shamelessly at you.

Mouse looked from him to you and then decided that since she had translated for her brother, she should also translate for her father. “Mama, him means sayin’ boobs.”

“Thanks Mouse,” you groaned. 

Sukuna grinned and leaned over, kissing your forehead and saying softly, “Well, yet again, she is not wrong!”

[dark-and-kawaii]

・✦ ʚ♡ɞ ✦ Breeder ✦ ʚ♡ɞ ✦・

ੈ Summary: Raphael has to admit, he was quite fond of you at this point. You were no longer just his little mouse. You were far more valuable at this point, far more useful than just a mere pawn in his grand scheme. You would make a fine host for his bloodline.

ੈ Pairing: Raphael x F!Reader/Tav

ੈ Content: NSFW - Breeding - Biting - Creampie - Raphael Being Raphael - His Little Mouse - Possessive Raphael

ੈ Notes: This is a thank you for @sassyandsodone for the lovely screenshots of Lofn, Zevlor, and Haarlep in her sims game ♡♡♡ I hope you enjoy this ♡♡♡

Your body was on fire from the way he fucked you, your lips red and swollen from how many times his sharp teeth had bit and pulled at them. And then there was the feeling between your thighs, the sensation that had made you moan so wantonly and cry out so desperately to him, a feeling that you never wanted to end…

Nor would it ever end.

A loud cry tore through your throat when he struck your core once more, his cock filling you to the brim making your toes curl. His wings outstretched as he groaned with carnal delight. Raphael had you right where he wanted you, pinned under his large form, his clawed hands gripping your hips, his long nails biting into your much more delicate flesh as he rammed into you over and over. That warm mouth of his leaving a trail of bruises up your neck, his tongue occasionally flicking over a wound he inflicted. The taste of your blood sweet and heady to him, his cock twitching within you at the mere taste it against his tastebuds.

This wasn’t the first time that he had taken you, not in the slightest.

And it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Not when his cock felt this damn good buried deep within you, not when the noises that spilled from your throat made his adrenaline rush, and not when the look in your eyes, the one filled with so much love and lust, made him want to pound into you all the harder.

No it definitely wouldn’t be the last, he’d keep you by his side forever. You were his now, his little pawn, his pet, his plaything, his lover… His breeder.

The thought made Raphael groan, his hips slamming hard against your own, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. It’s not what he originally planned for, keeping you and filling you with his spawn, but when you swore to bring him back the crown, signing his contract without hesitation, and when he tasted you that same night, he couldn't help himself. You were much more valuable, much more enjoyable to play with rather than that dreadful Hope. He had to have you, his little mouse.

Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, your nails brushing against the crown of horns that adorned his head, the touch making him purr in content. A purr that made your chest tighten and your cunt clench around his cock. By the nine hells his cock couldn’t help but ache at the way your velvety warmth clung to his cock. It made his mouth part further, one of his hands traveling up to your still flat belly. Fear not though mouse, soon it would be swollen with his heir, his greatest creation.

You had no idea of the gift you were about to receive.

Not until his clawed hand caressed the lower part of your stomach.

Your eyes followed the action, watching as his long talons dragged across the skin of your belly, “R-Raphael? What’re yo-“

Your words were cut off when his other hand, the one that had been clutching your hip, moved, his nails dragging across the skin of your breasts before they settled on one sensitive bud. The action made your head fall back and a breathless cry filled the room, the sound making the devil above you smirk, “I can’t help but to wonder how you will sound when you feel the kick of my offspring inside of you.”

His words made you pause, the pleasure in your gut halting for a moment, your head rising so that you could look up at him, the look of shock making him laugh, a dark and rich sound that echoed off his walls, “I wonder, will the nourishment in your breasts become hot- something entirely new from a devil's seed invading your womb? Will your essence that coats my fingers nightly taste like my finest of wines once your body has changed?“

You whimpered when his tongue, that sinful thing, slid along the shell of your ear, the heat of his breath making a shudder run down your spine, “Will you scream when I impregnate you or will you simply cry out my name as if I were your savior?” Raphael’s tail swished back and forth behind him, the anticipation building, the very idea of taking you fully, making you tied to him, making you full with his child, making him want to fuck you until you begged him to stop, “To have such a wondrous and willing little thing like you at my disposal only makes me wish to tear your flesh asunder with my claws, to sink one’s teeth into your lips until they bleed and to take you again and again until you cannot bare to move- your throat raw from calling my name-“

Another thrust had you gasping, his cock throbbing inside of you, his words making you ache with a desperate need to cum, your cunt quivering around him, “R-Raphael~”

“Above all, I’ll indulge in you until I can be for certain that my child has found a nurturing home within your womb.” His hand pressed down onto your lower belly, he could feel his cock moving in and out of your cunt, the way it bulged against your soft flesh making him lose all self control.

It was such a lovely sight.

His eyes flicked up, looking into the mirror off to the side, admiring the way his body looked as he fucked into you, the way your breasts bounced, the way your head fell back, exposing the column of your throat. Such a delicious sight, the way his teeth marks decorated your flesh, the way some spots leaked that pretty crimson color…

Yes he would breed you and breed you well.

His tail moved, the tip curling around your wrist before pulling your hand away from where it clutched his arm, bringing it down to the area where his cock entered you. Your eyes flew open, looking at the mirror, watching the way his thick cock split you in two, your fingers brushing the skin, feeling the bulge.

He was so large, so thick and long, there’s no way you wouldn’t walk out of this room without a child in your womb.

A sharp thrust made you cry out, your hand falling away as the pleasure consumed you, your climax approaching at a rapid rate, your body becoming more and more sensitive, your cunt desperately begging to swallow his warm milky cum.

Your body was screaming for release, the coil in your stomach growing tighter and tighter. Your legs trembling, the pleasure mounting with each second, his cock ramming into your core. Raphael grunted, his hips moving at a brutal pace, the wet sound of your juices, the slap of his skin, and the squelching of his cock, it was too perfect. 

Your voice had grown hoarse from crying out to him, your fingers gripping the sheets below, your thighs shaking, and your vision blurring.

So close.

Raphael let out a loud growl, his nails taking root- biting into your skin as he held you, his tail wrapping tightly around your waist pulling you closer to him. The bed creaked under the force of his thrusts, the headboard banging against the wall threatening to break. His release was nearing, he could feel the familiar coil, the tightening of his balls, the burning sensation at the base of his spine, the way his cock began to twitch.

Then you felt it.

Your body arching off the bed, a strangled moan of his name leaving your lips, your cunt gushing and contracting around his cock, milking him for his cum. 

Raphael growled, his wings stretched as far as they could go, his hips stilling, his cock throbbing inside of you, pulsating and spilling his hot, thick seed, his mouth parted, a groan tearing from his throat. He could see in the mirror how his cum leaked from your cunt, the excess seeping out making a mess between your thighs, your own fluids mixing with his, creating a concoction of scents that made his eyes flutter and his body shudder.

He remained still for a moment, letting his cum fill you, allowing his seed to wriggle and seek out an egg. 

You felt so full already, so wonderfully full and the feeling only intensified when his taloned hands came down to rest upon your lower stomach. It made your cheeks flush, the way he held your belly, his fingers rubbing the skin, “I'm not yet satisfied, my dear.”

He couldn't wait to watch you grow.

By the end of the night you knew you were going to be nothing but a drooling, mindless, mess.

And you couldn’t wait to be at Raphael's side for all eternity, couldn’t wait for him to use you as he pleased further~

His little mouse.

His lover.

His breeder.

[thesunbun]

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOO

IMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPYIMSOHAPPY

We’ve fucking won

[revelboo]

ngl my only exposure to vortex is secondhand stuff of him with first-aid (and even that im spotty on, cuz im not sure thats even him or if its someone else) but DAMN. HELL OF A FIRST IMPRESSION GHDSJKGMGKDSM-

He’s a sadistic interrogator for the Cons, a Combaticon, a tad bit masochistic and a lot of freak from what I know about him- I’d imagine none of the combiners are exactly okay in the head, though, Autobot or Decepticon. That the modifications necessary, the nature of the gestalt and losing your sense of self probably does some mental damage. And that Vortex may have been a bit manic and sadistic even before volunteering. Wanted to get this one done before I hit the road since it was in my head.

I Can’t Decide Pt 2

IDW Vortex x Reader

•Oh, that lovely sound of pure terror. Catching your tiny hand between two servos and pressing as you desperately try to pull free. Feels little bones shift. “Wait! I can get you more!” More? Crying out until he eases up and you yank your hand to your chest and point down at the other human. What’s left of him. “Like him. That’s what you want, right?” Such a devious little thing, offering to find him toys? To play with him?

• Still can’t look at the mess he’d made, but deep down? A part of you is glad. Knowing what he’d planned to do to you, that he’d likely have killed you after he was done, you can’t summon any sympathy for the guy. And there’s more like him, aren’t there? Aware that you’re making a deal with the devil to survive even as you look up into that luminous visor. “You’d bring me playthings knowing what I’ll do to them?” He asks, baring his denta in a grin. You’ll hate yourself for it later, but you nod. “Oh, we’re going to be such friends.” Tapping a servo against you hard enough to hurt as he laughs.

• Such a fierce little expression. You’re going to be such fun to break. Offering you his blade, he tucks the edge of his glossa against the corner of his mouth. Watches you squirm, trying to guess what he wants you to do and then reaching out and grabbing that sharp edge, wincing and hissing through your teeth as you pull your bleeding hand away. Those eyes narrowing as he lifts the blade and runs his glossa along it, shuddering slightly because you taste so much sweeter than the other human had. “Just a small taste and I can find you no matter where you try to hide,” he lies, feeling you stiffen in his hand. “But you wouldn’t do that, would you?”

• “Of course not,” you say, fear threading through you. Not sure if this is a game you can play. Can you really bring him victims? Even if you only find the worst of humanity, the truly evil? Flinching as he leans down and drags his wet glossa from your cheek, down you neck, along your arm all the way to your bleeding palm with a noise of almost euphoric pleasure, you decide you can. Anything to not get played with like a cat with a mouse until he accidentally kills you.

• Lifting his head instead of giving in to the urge to bite, he rubs his servo against that soft, delicate throat. “Name’s Vortex. To a lovely and mutually beneficial partnership,” he coos. Because you? He’s going to enjoy you, he can tell. None of the other Combaticons share his proclivities. Knows he makes them uncomfortable with his games, that they don’t understand. But you’re so desperate he can shape you as he likes. Make you play along until he gets bored.

Previous

Next

[theegyal]

FADED, (Annie X Smoke) FANFICTION (SINNERS. 2025)

Tag List : @bigjh @boonoonoonus ,@saralance03 , @stormynovashambler @lsc72 , @prettyisasprettydoes1306

CHAPTER 3

A slow gasp swept through the room like wind stirrin' leaves.

People turned. Eyes darted. Someone coughed awkward, someone else laughed too loud tryin' to fill the silence.

Annie didn't speak. Her mouth opened just a crack, but no sound came out.

The only noise was the slow drip of sauce, slidin' down her calf.

Leonhard didn't flinch. Didn't even pretend to look surprised.

Instead, she tilted her head like a snake preyin' on a wounded mouse.

"Oh dear," she said, voice syrupy-slow. "You'll want someone to clean that up. Unless... oh. Was that your job, sweetie?"

That last word cracked like a whip.

The Delta men and women around hissed in anger. How could one of their own—Smoke—allow a white woman to speak down to their sister like that?

Annie was more than a priestess, more than a passerby. She was spirit and backbone, cooked for the sick, prayed for the widows, kept the dead company when nobody else would.

Her isolation had been her own choice, but that didn't make her any less of a pillar in the community.

Annie still didn't look at the white lady. She stared at Smoke. At his mouth that wouldn't move, at his eyes that didn't blink. Her hands trembled.

She bent, gathered the pieces—not all of them. Just enough to feel busy, to do somethin', anything other than stand there lookin' all broken.

"Annie—" Smoke finally breathed.

She stood—back straight, eyes dry. No tears, no curses. She knew better than to trust him again. Foolish, the way her heart still beat fast at his honeyed lies.

She stay still for one second.

Then turned and walked off the dance floor. Not too fast. Not dramatically.

"Wait—Annie!"

Smoke took one step after her.

But Leonhard slid in front of him, gloved hand resting lightly on his chest like she had every right to touch him.

"Don't be rude," she said with a condescending smile. "We've come all this way. You owe me a conversation, Elijah."

Smoke's fists clenched, jaw pulsin'.

"Not now."

"Yes. Now. Unless you want everyone here watchin' the prodigal twin run off after his... chef in the middle of a family reunion?"

Stack saw the blaze flarin' up in his brother's and Slim's eyes. It was either hit her or walk away. And Smoke didn't hit women. Not even vipers.

"I'll go," Stack said low. "I'll get her."

Smoke didn't look away from Leonhard. "You make sure she gets home."

"I ain't lettin' her walk in the dark, barefoot, all shook up."

Stack spun on his heel and broke through the crowd, mutterin' apologies as he passed.

Mary tried to make him stay, but miserably failed. He reassured her slightly with fortune of an unforgettable night and then went off.

Outside, the night was heavy with cold heat and crickets, moonlight slicin' through the trees.

He saw Annie ahead, dress hitchin' above her ankles, feet movin' fast down the dirty road.

"Annie!" he called. "Annie, hold up!"

She didn't stop.

"Ay, please, mama, don't do this! Just let me drive you home."

Still walkin'. Shoulders tight.

He jogged, caught up to her, but didn't touch her. It was not the right time. Not tonight.

"Please," he panted. "You ain't gotta be out here alone. You shakin'. Just get in the truck."

She stopped then. The priestess was indeed exhausted, and her body sore. She would have even granted consent to the devil to bring her home.

Stack swallowed, wiped sweat from his brow. "I know my brother's a damn fool. All mighty, powerful but still a clown. I do. But don't let him mess you up like this, Annie. Not like this."

The moonlight gleamed through the trees, drawin' faerie shapes on her glowin' obsidian skin. She did not cry. The tears were blind.

Stack stood stiff, lingered his eyes on her silhouette.

She looked like a hymn unsung, like a gospel the devil ain't dared corrupt. Her dress clung to her body, to them hips that swayed like they had their own rhythm, them big, roundish breasts lifted proud beneath thin fabric where her brown hard nipples rested—he could swear they still carried the warmth of sweat and honey, the same sweet fluids he dreamed of tastin', of drownin' in.

He imagined his mouth where his thoughts shouldn't wander—on her neck, down her back, between her thighs, her voluptuous ass, whisperin' apologies only skin could hear. He saw her archin', beggin', cursin' his name like it was salvation.

Silence.

"I'll drive," she said finally, brutally tearing him away from his reveries. "I ain't ridin' with no man tonight."

Stack blinked, stunned for half a second—then nodded, handed her the keys.

"Fair enough."

They walked back toward the truck together. Not talkin'.

Clearly, Stack needed fresh air, and being alone with Annie in this truck didn't help him. He was such an evil man. Nurturing these immoral fantasies about his brother's woman.

Well, with what happened tonight, do they still stand as a couple? Regardless, Stack needed—no, must—try to cool down the affairs between them.

"You know" he started "this bitch ain't really his lady."

"I could push your ass off your own truck."

"Got it," he shut his mouth.

Strangely, seeing her all mad was enough to help Stack cool down.

After long hours on the road, they finally arrived at the wooden cabin. The dandy stepped out, to lead her inside the house, but was immediately stopped in his endeavors.

"I'd rather not have you in. I need some space. It's not against you—"

"All good, ma'. I'm already honored you let me drive you home. Well, not in that way, but—you get what I mean."

She let out an anxious laugh and excused herself.

Back inside the juke joint, the air had curdled.

The people weren't drinkin' as much. Sammie and Slim continued the show but the notes sounded hesitant, like even the guitar strings didn't want to offend Annie's departure.

Leonhard stood near the bar, she tapped one manicured nail against the glass, lips curled in a devilish smirk.

"Quite the performance," she drawled to no one in particular. "I didn't think she'd break so easily. Thought she had more spine, the way she was glaring at Eli, ready to devour him whole"

Leonhard's smile didn't falter. She turned toward the gathering pals, her icy blue eyes cold as a porcelain plate. "Oh, is the celebration over ?"

" at the right time Jefferson's daughter step in. Ha" spilled Slim

"Oh, please," Leonhard said with a light laugh. "You're all acting theatrically. I simply asked a question. And she ran off like a scalded cat."

Slim's jaw ticked. "You in our house now. You don't get to come in here and piss on the floor, then act surprised when it stinks."

That earned a couple low chuckles, but nobody was smiling wide.

Smoke stood near the door, arms folded tight across his chest, jaw locked. He hadn't spoken since Stack left. Didn't even glance Leonhard's way.

She noticed.

"Smoke," she cooed, sidling up beside him, heels clicking like accusation. "Are you really going to give me the silent treatment all night? After I traveled all this way?"

"You shouldn't've come," he said flat.

Her laugh was light, but the tremor in her throat betrayed her. "Well, I did. And now I'm here. And don't pretend you don't owe me some words."

"I owe you nothin'," he said dangerously

She leaned closer. "Except maybe the truth. Or maybe an apology for parading your... nanny around like she means somethin'."

The slap didn't come from Smoke.

It came from Grace.

A clean crack resonated through the room.

Leonhard's face turned with the blow, but she didn't stumble. Her cheek reddened as blood bloomin' beneath her glass skin.

Leonhard straightened. Touched her cheek, gently. "Well. That was uncalled for."

"No," Slim said. "That was overdue."

Leonhard looked around—at the faces now turned fully toward her, all unwelcoming. The invisible barrier that protected her all her life, her whiteness, social privileges, false elegance—was paper-thin here. And it had just torn.

"And you're going to stay silent,Moore !"

Smoke finally grinned. Here the truth unveiled. She never called him by his real name. Just the name of the man who'd marked them both in blood and shame: Moore.

"Just go back to Chicago Leonhard" he growled , cigarette between his lips.

She scoffed, lips curling. "Why? This little backwoods party isn't over yet."

"Yeah? What are you here for?" another voice cut in—Stack. He stepped forward, hand in his pocket, eyes cold. "This Negroes land, madam."

Leonhard turned her head toward him like she was being addressed by a stray dog. "And my man is one. I can accommodate."

A blade. She was doing too much.

Customers, one after another started exiting the club ; They try indeed to relax and ease their mind off the plantation. Certainly not to come dealing with a new face of oppression at night.

We should have not come

These twins were no good from the start

First it was ol' Mary, now another white chick from the North

Cornbread scratched the back of his head, eyes dartin' toward the door. "Yeah, uh—I think I gotta get on, Stack. You know... wife's pregnant and all."

"Ay. See you pal" cuts off the younger twin.

Ten minutes blended, and almost everyone gone.

Then Slim burst out laughin', loud and ugly.

" Ha Ha Ha. Damn I was right nigga, you pay for only a night ! Ha Ha Ha"

He doubled over, shoulders shakin', the sound ringing in the hollow space.

Nobody else laughed.

Not a bug.

Leonhard's lips tightened at the sound of Slim's laughter. Her spine stiffened, cheeks flushed from rage. She felt insulted.

"May I know, what is so funny ?" she asked, turning her cold gaze at him.

Slim leaned back, arms stretched across the chair, gold tooth catchin' the dim light.

"Oh, I ain't laughin' at you, sugar,"

he drawled, voice drenched in mischief. "I'm laughin' at the situation. You know, rich white lady showin' up in a colored joint tryin' to own every single soul. Ain't everyday we get Broadway drama down in the Delta."

Leonhard's smile thinned, venom behind her teeth.

"Charming. Is this the kind of wit that passes for clever down here?"

Smoke chuckled low, Stack louder.

"Oh, she mad now," Stack teased, elbowin' Smoke. "She gon' write about us in her memoirs."

"Life Among the Heathens: A Southern Tragedy," Smoke added, smirkin'.

That was enough.

Mary, who'd been quiet too long, advanced forward.

"Leona," she said gently, laying a hand on the woman's arm, "why don't we head back to the lodge. It's late."

Leonhard hesitated, still staring down Slim. But then she caught the look in Mary's eyes calm, composed, disapproving.

She adjusted her silk attire. "Yes. Let's."

Without another glance at the twins, she turned and strode toward the door. Mary gave the men a quick, tired look.

The door creaked shut behind them.