#I’m still not sure on how I feel about her shoulder armor but in the mean time I like them

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

Make way for the Lost Bots’ self-proclaimed bodyguard :D

[soleilapproves]

Part two of mechanic Sukuna

Notes: not proof read, fem!reader

main masterlist

“I’m tellin’ you, man, that chick is gonna send her friend over. She looked like she was gonna faint when she saw you,” Toji called out from under the car he was working on.

Sukuna wanted to throw the wrench in his greasy hand at his friend. The two had been bickering about whether you or your friend would be coming to pick up your car after Sukuna had called you.

He was fondly recalling how shy you sounded over the phone but his friend digressed that you must’ve been scared.

There’s no way he looked scary, right? Sure, his hair was an unnatural shade of pink, pointing in every direction towards the sky. Sure, his tattoos would even send a gang member running, but it made him seem attractive. He even got a little eyebrow piercing to have that edgy yet sexy look.

He was interested in someone and it was finally time to put his looks to good use.

“I still can’t believe you made me clean her filters. You know I’m allergic to dust.” Sukuna could almost see Toji’s sulk. He pulled Toji out from underneath the Cadillac he was working on and pointed his wrench at him.

“Paid you fifty bucks for it, didn’t I? So shut up.”

“Are you threatening me with a wrench?”

“Just warning ya.”

Toji scoffed before pushing himself back under the car. There was only so much love sickness he could take.

You braced yourself before walking into the mechanic shop. Even if your first experience with a mechanic wasn’t scary, who’s to say that something bad wouldn’t happen the second time?

With a deep breath, you walked into the lions’ den, clutching your tote bag’s handle to your chest. It was your version of an armor. The battle of walking into a room full of men was never an easy one. You were hoping to be discreet but your heeled boots were loud enough to echo through the giant garage and made everyone’s heads turn towards your figure.

Your much smaller (figuratively and literally) and self-conscious figure.

As unexpected as it was, your eyes searched for Sukuna’s familiar face. You needed to stabilize your boat on the rocky waters you called social anxiety. Your sweaty hands were starting to leave an imprint on your canvas tote bag until you heard his voice.

“Looking for someone?”

There he was, standing in all his glory. No bandana but he was sporting an eyebrow piercing this time. Your eyes simply couldn’t tear away from it. It suited him well. He’d make a very attractive and charismatic gangster.

“Your car’s ready. Do you wanna check on the AC before leaving?”

You nodded at his suggestion, still too conscious to say anything. You cursed yourself for forgetting to even say hi because you were too busy admiring his piercing. His shoulders blocked everything in your line of sight so you just followed him towards your car, and you were surprised to see that it looked squeaky clean.

“Uh, we threw in a complimentary wash. College student discount and stuff.” He answered before you could even ask him. Toji scoffed at his answer but quickly went back to work when he noticed Sukuna’s glare in his direction. You felt squeamish knowing that Sukuna could read your body language a little too well.

But what happened next just made your stomach fold in on itself. He decided to lean in to your car as you sat down to check on the AC. It was like he was taking advantage of the fact that you hated confrontation. “Just tryin’ to feel a little cool. Still hot out in the garage, you know.”

Your tongue felt like it was too big for your mouth with way he was basically nose to nose with you. Did all his customers get such treatment? But then again, who were you to say no to him after he worked so hard to fix your AC. It was the least you could do (aside from tipping but he refused that).

You turned on the AC and he leaned in further, face basically resting on your neck, lips dangerously close to your cheek.

You could smell the musk of his sweat and natural scent. “Looks like it’s working fine,” he said while grinning against your face. You wish could agree with him but it was so distracting to have a man like him so close to you. It was horrifying. You had never let a man- no, anyone so close to your face without your permission. Shit, you wouldn’t even let them come into a 3 feet radius of you if you were unsettled by them.

But here he was, pushy and prideful, all up in your space. His hand was dangerously close to your ass with the way he was leaning into your car. You were basically sharing your oxygen with him. “Thank you for helping me with my AC.” You were surprised to find out that you finally had your voice back.

You couldn’t even look him in the eye while speaking. He was still very close to your face that you were afraid your lips would touch his if you were to turn. You were praying that he would pull away soon and by your lucky stars, he did. But not without breathing in deeply by your neck. Did he… try to smell you?

“You’re welcome. If you need anything else then let me know. I’ll always be available.” You were hoping that he meant during the shop’s work hours but hell, with the way he was looking at you, it could mean an entirely different thing.

“I’ll keep that mind,” you mumbled with a slow nod.

After you left, Toji walked up to Sukuna with a can of beer. “I don’t think she likes you like that. She looked like she wanted to run out of here.”

Sukuna bumped his can against Toji’s. “She’s just shy. I need to warm her up before I start the actual flirting.”

“I don’t know. You were so weird with her, man. I don’t think she’s ever coming back. Bet she won’t even send her little friend here either.”

“Oh, she’ll come back. And if she doesn’t then I’ll go to her.” Sukuna smirked while sipping his beer.

“Huh, how?”

“Destiny,” Sukuna said as he bumped Toji’s shoulder. The raven haired man could only cringe at his friend’s actions.

And you do reel him towards you. A week later, on a dark and rainy night when your car unexpectedly breaks down while driving.

—

Premise for part 3 has been built.

taglist: @sakurasimppp @thisaintredwine @blueemochii @totallygyomeiswife @asuritam @chosokamoluvr @thisaintredwine @sterzin @aluvrina @pettybunnyboo @nanamisrighthand @lavenderdaydream97 @shokosbunny @stainednailpolishremover @stopeatread @uma0777 @matchat3a @ieathairs @tamishadawn @acidrefiux @tangsakura

[rosemariiaa]

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 02, 𝘽𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙨

“Some things are better left unsaid.”

𐙚— pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚— synopsis: the feeling of regret

𐙚— rosie’s note: hi :), sooo don’t yell at me y’all know i’m sensitive, but yes apologies this was supposed to come out wayyy sooner but i’ve had a lot going on with my personal life i barely had time to write but luckily i finished this up! ik almost people were confused on the cliffhanger so i hope i explained it well in this chapter :) happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚— themes: hurt/comfort, guilt, angst

enjoy!!!

march 21, 2014

The cursor blinked at me, expectant. Judging.

Her name sat on the tip of my tongue. Not the one she introduced herself with, not the nickname she had tossed at me under the swing set like it was armor. Her real name. The one she’d trusted me with just days before everything shattered.

I hovered over the keyboard. How many times had I visited this account in the past two months? More than I could count. The anonymity she clung to should have been enough to keep me from connecting the dots. But the username—UnicornPuppy35—was a clue I couldn’t ignore, not after that rainy night, not after the slippers and the shirt that practically screamed it.

Azzi.

The realization should have made me stop, made me put down my phone and walk away. She didn’t know it was me. She didn’t know I was the one lurking, soaking up every word she wrote, piecing together her sadness, her anger, her loneliness. And she couldn’t find out—not like this.

If she did… God, if she ever found out, I wasn’t sure what would happen. She’d hate me more than she already did, and I couldn’t stand to see that look on her face again.

I leaned back in my chair, running a hand over my face. The memory of her tears still burned, sharp as glass.

flashback ⤑ february 13, 2013

The rain came down hard that night, the kind of downpour that soaked through your skin and left you raw.

I didn’t know why I left the house. Maybe it was the yelling, or maybe it was the silence that followed. Either way, I ended up at the park. The swings creaked under the weight of the wind, and the only other person there was huddled on one, head bowed as rain dripped from her curls and onto her bright pink unicorn shirt.

I almost walked away. She looked like she wanted to be alone, and honestly, so did I. But something stopped me—a tilt of her head, maybe, or the way her shoulders shuddered even as she sat still.

“Hey,” I said, stepping closer. The ground squelched under my shoes.

She looked up, startled. Her eyes, wide and brown, met my baby blues for half a second before darting away. “What do you want?”

I hesitated, shrugging. “Nothing. Just… didn’t think anyone else would be out here.”

Her laugh was bitter, like she didn’t believe me. She didn’t say anything else, just looked back down at her feet, the tips of her sneakers brushing the muddy ground.

I should’ve walked away. Instead, I sat on the swing next to her.

Over the next two weeks, those nights at the park became a ritual. When the lights in our houses went out, we met under the cover of darkness, sharing pieces of ourselves with kind of fully unraveling almost everything.

She told me about the girl at school—the one who dunked her head in the toilet and called her the f-slur. Her voice cracked when she said it, and my chest ached with something I didn’t quite understand.

“She’s just a bitch,” I said, reaching out without thinking. My hand landed on her shoulder, the fabric of her hoodie rough and wet under my palm. “You didn’t deserve that.”

She didn’t pull away, but she didn’t look at me either. “It’s not just her,” she muttered. “It’s… everyone.”

The night Azzi told me about the girl at school, something in her broke. Her voice cracked, a sharp edge slicing through the usual monotone she used when talking about her day.

“I didn’t even do anything,” she said, hugging her knees to her chest. Her breath came out in shivers, her curls dripping rainwater down her back. “She just—she said I was looking at her skirt, and the next thing I know, I’m—”

Her voice wavered, and she stopped. She didn’t have to finish. I could picture it: the cold porcelain, the laughter, the humiliation.

“She has to be insecure or something,” I said quickly, fumbling for the right words. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Azzi. She’s just taking her misery out on you.”

Azzi didn’t look convinced. Her lip trembled, and she pressed her face into her knees, hiding the tears I knew were falling.

I sat there, helpless. I wasn’t good at this—comforting people, saying the right thing. But I didn’t want her to feel alone.

“You wanna egg her house?” I joked, my voice soft. “Or, I don’t know, slash her parents tires?”

She huffed a wet laugh, the sound muffled by her hoodie. “She’d probably call the cops.”

“She’s a snitch, too?” I gasped dramatically, hoping to coax another laugh out of her. “That’s it. We’re definitely egging her house.”

Azzi peeked up at me, her eyes red and puffy but lighter somehow. “You’re stupid,” she said, but there was a ghost of a smile on her face.

——-

A few nights later, that’s when things fell apart.

I was at the park first, waiting for Azzi, when a group of girls from my neighborhood showed up. I didn’t know them well, but they were loud and funny in that kind of way that made you want to laugh along just to fit in.

We were sitting on the picnic table, their chatter filling the silence, when one of them asked, “Hey, Paige, why do you always hang out with that girl?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Who?”

“You know, that Azzi girl,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Nobody hangs out with her.”

My stomach twisted. “Why not?”

The girl snorted. “Her mom’s, like, weird. Always with a new boyfriend or whatever. It’s embarrassing. She’s just a weirdo and looks weird.”

My jaw tightened. Before I could respond, another girl chimed in, laughing. “And her hair! It’s like, doesn’t she know what a brush is?”

The table erupted in laughter, but I couldn’t bring myself to join in. I glanced at the path leading to the swings, my heart sinking.

“Paige,” a voice said behind me.

I froze.

Azzi stood there, her face pale and her eyes glassy with unshed tears. Her mouth opened, then closed, and she shook her head, stepping back as if I’d physically struck her.

“Azzi, wait—” I started, scrambling off the table, but she was already turning away.

“Don’t,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “Just… don’t.”

I ran after her, catching her arm as she reached the edge of the park. “Azzi, I wasn’t—”

“Wasn’t what?” she snapped, whirling around. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her voice rising in anger. “Wasn’t laughing at me? Wasn’t sitting there while they trashed me?”

“I didn’t say anything!” I protested, my chest tight.

“That’s the problem!” she shouted, her voice breaking. “You just sat there, Paige. You didn’t even try to stop them, you let them say those things.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words stuck in my throat.

“Forget it,” she muttered, yanking her arm free. She wiped at her face angrily, her curls sticking to her cheeks. “I should’ve known better.”

“Azzi, come on,” I pleaded, my voice softer now. “It’s not like that—”

“What’s it like, then?” she asked, her eyes narrowing. “Because from where I’m standing, it’s pretty clear. I just don’t understand after all those nights I cried to you P.. how could you?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. By the time I found the words, she was already gone.

present day 2014

It’s been weeks since Azzi and I started talking online, just the two of us, anonymously. We’ve gotten comfortable—well, as comfortable as we can with the fake names and hidden identities. I try not to think about the lies I’m keeping from her, but I know deep down it’s the only way I can stay connected to her. She has to trust me, or she’ll leave. And I can’t handle that. Not again.

It’s the last day of school, and I’m practically buzzing with excitement as I head to the bus. I can’t wait to get home, and send Azzi a message—anything really. I don’t care if it’s about her puppy or the weather or something ridiculous. I just want to talk to her.

I find a seat on the bus and pull out my phone. As the bus rumbles on, I open up Blogspot. I scroll through the messages Azzi and I exchanged earlier, just before school started. I can’t help but laugh at the part where she told me her dog, Stewie, peed in her shoe. That image—her tiny, brown wiener dog peeing in her brand new sneakers—was so perfectly her. Her humor, her frustration, her charm.

I giggle, but then it hits me. The guilt. It crashes over me, sudden and sharp, like a wave I didn’t see coming. My thumb freezes over the screen, hovering over the keyboard. I look at the conversation, at the funny banter we shared this morning, and my chest tightens. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve her.

If she knew who I really was, if she knew the truth about why I was pretending to be someone else… she would never look at me the same way again. She’d leave me. She would never trust me again.

I feel the tightness in my chest grow, and I look out the window, trying to distract myself. But it’s no use. The guilt is like a weight on my shoulders, pressing down harder the longer I sit with it. Every word I’ve typed to Azzi, every moment I’ve shared with her—it’s all a lie. And I hate myself for it.

But I can’t stop. I can’t let her go again. It pained me the first time…it won’t happen again.

I stare at the phone in my hand, biting my lip. What if she finds out? What if she figures it out before I can come clean?

What if? What if? What if?

The thought is too much. I set the phone down on my lap, staring out the window, hoping the weight in my chest will ease.

A few minutes later, my phone vibrates in my lap. A new message.

unicornpuppy35: p, i just got home and stewie’s tryna eat my shoelace again. i swear this dog’s scheming.

I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. My thumb hovers over the screen again. I want to reply, want to send something funny, something comforting, but all I can think about is how this isn’t real. None of it is real.

boogers_p: obviously. stewie’s prolly like, “shoelaces are phase one. world domination’s next.”

unicornpuppy35: no fr, this little dude really thinks he runs the place.

boogers_p: i mean… does he not? u literally pay rent in shoelaces and snacks.

unicornpuppy35: and socks. don’t forget the socks. he got one of mine this morning smh.

I bit my lip, trying not to laugh too loud as I typed back.

boogers_p: rip to the sock. gone but not forgotten.

The typing bubble popped up and disappeared a few times before finally settling on:

unicornpuppy35: ur so ridiculous, p. u know that?

boogers_p: i’ve heard rumors.

I paused, smirking at the screen. Then, a thought hit me, and her fingers flew over the keyboard.

boogers_p: ok, real question. what’s stewie short for? or did u just look at him and go, “yup, that’s a stewie”?

There was a pause before Azzi’s response came through.

unicornpuppy35: named him after breanna stewart.

I blinked at the screen, my smile softening. Of course she did.

boogers_p: oh damn, respect. stewie’s a legend fr but no surprise you chose her.

unicornpuppy35: p, language. and duhh, hence the name.

boogers_p: my bad my bad, but u really said, “lemme name my dog after greatness.” iconic move, puppy.

I knew the nickname would get to her. It always did. The reply came fast.

unicornpuppy35: stop calling me that!!!

boogers_p: nah. it fits too good. also, it’s cute. like u.

Shit. There was a long pause before I saw the typing bubble flicker again.

unicornpuppy35: u really know how to get on my nerves, huh?

boogers_p: talent, tbh.

Azzi’s response came slower this time:

unicornpuppy35: sometimes i wonder why i even talk to u.

Paige snorted, her thumbs moving fast.

boogers_p: cuz i’m funny. and charming. and u lowkey love me. just admit it.

The reply took a moment.

unicornpuppy35: …maybe stewie loves u. that’s as close as ur getting.

I barked out a laugh, the sound drawing a curious glance from the kid across the aisle.

boogers_p: i’ll take it. tell stewie i’m his #1 fan.

unicornpuppy35: he’ll probably steal another shoelace to celebrate.

boogers_p: a king. truly.

I stared at the screen for a second longer, my chest feeling warm and tight in a way I couldn’t even describe.

unicornpuppy35: u good, peanut? u seem kinda off lately.

My fingers hesitated over the keyboard, my mouth forming into a small smile at my nickname. Azzi always asked. I didn’t know how she managed to carry so much and still notice the little things about me. God.

boogers_p: yeah, i’m straight. just tired, you know?

unicornpuppy35: don’t let it get to u p. me and stewie got ur back.

Paige swallowed the lump in her throat, her reply coming slower this time.

boogers_p: thanks, puppy. u and stewie the real mvps fr.

Pup- I mean Azzi’s reply was just a string of eye-roll emojis, but I could picture the grin on her face. I wish I could just see it for myself.

boogers_p: love u too.

So much.

I send the message, knowing I can’t keep lying forever. But for now, I’ll hold on.

——-

Paige walked into her room, shutting the door with a quiet click, as if any louder might let her thoughts escape into the world. Tossing her bag into the corner, she kicked off her shoes and peeled off her clothes, leaving a trail toward the bathroom. The hot water scalded her pale skin, but she barely noticed, the familiar ache in her chest louder than the pounding spray.

When she came out, dressed in an oversized T-shirt, her damp hair sticking to her neck, she flopped onto her bed. She should sleep. She needed sleep. But instead, her hand reached for the scrapbook tucked under her nightstand.

Opening it, her heart clenched as she stared at the first photo—Azzi on the swing set, caught mid-laugh, her curls bouncing wildly as she leaned over, her dimple deepening with every giggle. Paige could still hear the sound of it, bright and free, almost as if Azzi were right there in the room with her.

The second photo wasn’t much better. Her and Azzi at the diner for her 15th birthday, Azzi’s arm slung around hers like it belonged there. Paige could almost feel the ghost of Azzi’s touch, the warmth of her hand on her arm, the way Azzi’s voice would soften when she scolded her for cussing too much.

She flipped the page closed before she started crying again. It didn’t help.

Her fingers brush over the closed scrapbook, tracing its edges. She knows it’s pathetic to feel this way, to let herself get so tangled up in someone who probably doesn’t even think about her anymore. It’s dumb, she knows that. But it doesn’t change the way her heart clenches at the thought of Azzi laughing somewhere else, with someone else, as if Paige never mattered.

Because the truth is, she’s never felt this way about anyone before. Not like this. Not about their friendship, or whatever it used to be. Friendship doesn’t even seem like the right word anymore. It feels too small, too simple for something that made her feel whole in a way nothing else ever has.

Will you miss me, Azzi? Paige swallows hard, her jaw tightening as tears blur her vision again. Will you miss what we had? Because I do. I miss you so much it hurts. It fucking hurts.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes closing as the words spilled from her heart. God I think I’d miss you even if we never met.

Paige dragged a hand over her face, trying to will the tears back, but they came anyway, hot and relentless. She clutched the scrapbook tighter to her chest. I miss you. Every day. Every second of every day. I miss you so much it’s pathetic.

She let out a shaky laugh that turned into a sob halfway through. “It’s so dumb,” she muttered, shaking her head. But no matter how many times she said it, it didn’t make it any less true. It’s the realest thing she’s ever felt.

Because no one had ever made her feel like Azzi did. Not before, not since. She wasn’t sure anyone ever would.

She wipes at her face, but the tears won’t stop. Because no matter how much she misses Azzi, Paige knows it’s her fault she’s gone. She clings to the scrapbook, the pictures inside the only pieces of Azzi she has left. And as much as it hurts, she knows she deserves this. Every ache, every tear, every lonely second.

Because she let her go. And that’s something she can never take back.

——-

Azzi sat quietly in the backseat, her hands clammy as she rubbed them over her shorts, trying to calm the nerves that had been with her all morning. Her brothers had hyped her up about making the team, calling her the coach’s “princess,” but it didn’t help. She was still terrified. What if she didn’t make it? What if she wasn’t good enough?

She whispered to Stewie, who was in her lap, his small body a source of comfort. “What if I don’t make the team, huh? I know it’s stupid, but it keeps running through my mind… what if I mess up?”

Her mom glanced back at her from the front seat, a soft smile on her face. “You’ll do fine, Azzi. You always do.”

But Azzi couldn’t shake the unease, the thoughts spinning in her head as the car pulled into the gym parking lot. Her stomach twisted into knots, and her heart raced in anticipation. They arrived early, her mom wanting to meet the coaches first, so Azzi was the first one there.

She stepped out of the car, still trying to calm her breathing. As her mom led her inside, Azzi forced herself to smile and greet the coaches, though her mind was a hundred miles away. She excused herself once the introductions were made, eager to find the locker room and settle in before tryouts started.

The gym was empty when she walked in, the silence amplifying her every step. She meandered down the hall, her fingers grazing the walls as she took in the pictures of past players, their smiles frozen in time. She felt her nerves rise again, the pressure of what was to come weighing on her.

But as she rounded a corner, her body collided with something—or rather, someone.

“Sorry!” Azzi blurted, quickly stepping back. But when she looked up, her breath caught. There, standing in front of her, was Paige. She froze, heart pounding in her chest. Her mind screamed for her to move, to say something, anything, but her body just wouldn’t cooperate.

Paige stood there too, her mouth slightly open in disbelief, her eyes wide. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Then, almost as if the world had shifted, Paige finally spoke her name.

“Azzi?” she whispered.

Azzi’s stomach churned, but she couldn’t stop staring at her. How? How could she be here? How had she found her, of all places? This wasn’t supposed to happen, not here, not now. Not ever.

But Paige was looking at her like she hadn’t missed a beat, like the time apart hadn’t meant anything. Azzi could see the recognition in her eyes, the same as she felt in her chest.

It was instant. Her face was older now, sharper, but it was still her. Those blue eyes. The way she stood. Even the slight tilt of her head when she was unsure of herself. Azzi hadn’t expected it to hit her this hard.

A year ago, she swore she’d move on. Swore that she’d forget what Paige meant to her. But now, standing here, all she felt was the sharp twist of memory and the burn of anger.

How could she not recognize her? Paige had been the first person to make her feel seen, to make her feel like she mattered. But she had also been the first person to hurt her more than anyone else had. Azzi couldn’t forget that. Not the way she laughed with her, not the way she’d come after her with apologies she could never quite believe.

Azzi had convinced herself she was past it. Past Paige. But now, here she was, staring at her as if nothing had changed. It was too much, too fast. Does she really think I’ve forgotten?

Paige stepped forward, her movements tentative, unsure. Azzi almost wanted to take a step back, to run, but she couldn’t move. She stood there, feeling the weight of everything that had happened between them pressing in on her.

“Azzi,” Paige said softly, her voice almost hesitant.

Azzi blinked, her heart racing. She forced herself to act like she didn’t know her, even though everything inside her screamed that she did. “Sorry,” Azzi said, her voice steady despite the tightness in her chest. “Do I know you?”

——-

rosie’s note: well..yeah!

taglist ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @sierrale8ne @ohbueckers @imaginespazzi @pazzilover101 @makethemhoesmad @pboogerswbb @kmoneymartini @mrsarnold @absolutelydreadful @authentic-girl03 @melpthatsme @ashortyluvsports

[angelofthenight01]

Crumbling barriers

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

genre: fluff     ||     warnings: none 

It was late when Natasha Romanoff stepped into the dimly lit living room of the Avengers compound. Her black leather jacket clung to her frame, her movements sleek and purposeful as always. Her green eyes flickered toward you, briefly meeting your gaze before she looked away, the weight of something heavy lingering between you two.

You had known Natasha for a while now—long enough to understand that she was a woman of few words, one whose emotions were usually hidden beneath layers of skillful armor. Yet, tonight felt different. There was a shift in the air, something that made you uneasy, like a storm waiting to break.

“Didn’t expect anyone to still be up,” she said, her voice low and steady, yet there was an underlying tension that you couldn’t ignore.

You sat up from the couch, abandoning the book you had been reading. “Couldn’t sleep,” you confessed, your gaze studying her. “Bad mission?”

Natasha let out a quiet breath, taking a step further into the room. “You could say that.” She moved to the bar, reaching for a bottle of water. Her hand trembled slightly as she twisted the cap off, but it was almost imperceptible—just a fraction of a moment that would have gone unnoticed by anyone who didn’t pay close attention.

“Natasha, you don’t have to do this alone, you know,” you said, your voice soft but unwavering. You knew how fiercely independent she was, how much she fought to keep her burdens to herself. But you also knew there were moments when even the strongest needed someone to lean on.

She paused, her back still turned toward you as she took a long sip from the bottle. “I don’t need anyone,” she muttered, almost to herself, as if saying the words aloud would make them more true.

But you didn’t let her retreat. You stood up, closing the distance between you, your presence steady and warm. “I know you don’t like to rely on others. But you’ve got to know, Natasha, that you’re not alone. Not with me.”

For the first time that night, she turned to look at you, her expression guarded, but there was something different in her eyes. The cracks in her walls were starting to show, even if she didn’t want them to.

A pause hung between you, and then Natasha exhaled sharply, as if the weight of everything she had been holding back had become too much. “It’s just… hard, sometimes. To let go. To trust.”

You took another step forward, your voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to let go completely. You just have to know that it’s okay to let someone in. Even if it’s just a little bit.”

Her lips parted, as though she was about to say something, but she stopped herself, her gaze flickering toward the window, staring into the night. The silence stretched, comfortable yet filled with unspoken words.

Finally, she spoke, her voice quieter than usual. “I never asked for this life, you know. The guilt… the things I’ve done… they don’t go away, no matter how much I try to move past them. And sometimes, I feel like no one really sees me, not the real me.”

You stepped even closer, your voice soft but sure. “I see you. All of you. And I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be here. With me. If you’re willing.”

For a long moment, Natasha said nothing, but her gaze softened, her shoulders slowly relaxing. She took a deep breath, as if she were weighing your words, measuring their truth.

And then, without warning, she stepped closer to you, closing the gap you had left open between you both. Her hand reached out, brushing your cheek ever so gently, her touch light but filled with a tenderness that you hadn’t expected.

“Maybe… maybe I could let you in, just a little,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “But you’ll have to be patient with me.”

You smiled, your heart racing, but you remained calm, steady for her. “I’ll wait as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

And in that moment, Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, the woman who had been through more than anyone should ever endure, let her walls fall just enough to let you in. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

And you both knew that, in time, the rest would come. Together.

[mooneeswrld]

WHAT IS LIKE TO BE QUEEN ?

(CHAOS!ARTHURxREADER)

⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁⌁

pairings : agedup!chaos!athur x reader

warnings : forced marriage, mention of blood, violence, overprotecting, a bit of yandere, chaos power, slight dirty talks.

summary : as a daughter of a brilliant knight of Liones, you grown up in a abusive familyhood. you then escaped of this situation and someone’s knight were looking for a bride for their king just as they saw you running out…

PROLOGUE -> PT.1 -> PT.2

“i cannot…ah…just stay there…ah…while doing nothing…!” I said to myself while I was running without turning back as my drunk father yelled to me to come home and stop my “bullshits”.

I was still in my street, not running fast because of my heavy armor and sword. but the good side is that I wasn’t being chased by an alcoholic person that I call “father”.

so I stopped running for a while, my face all red because of the effort. I started walking out of Liones till I bump in someone with long white hair.

“ow…watch where you’re goin-“ I exclaimed till I face the person that turned back.

wait…

“sorry miss !!” said the freaking prince Tristan surrounded by his…friends ?

“o-oh ! do not apologise your majesty it’s for me I-“ I’ve been cut by him chuckling curiously. we know each other slightly, my dad know his dad a bit so we saw each other often.

“oh come on, (y/n), not those manners between us !!” he smiled at me after saying that. I smiled back but nervously, I was kinda hurry.

“oh okay, if you say so, Tristan” I chuckled softly between my words. I looked at the people behind him and looked at a girl that was clearly scaring me. she looked at me with furious eyes, that’s a girl I often saw around Tristan and two other guys.

“anyway, what were you doing in such a hurry ?” those words were from a guy I recognised between all : Lancelot. I frowned, knowing he knew about my abusive father. I then thought again about the fact that I needed to leave right the way.

“u-uh…doing exercises !!” I said seriously but nervous too because I was lying.

“LIAR !” screamed a blue haired girl from behind a lil man with a purple helmet. I jumped as she screamed and looked at her with wide eyes. how could she know anything about me and my reason to leave ??

“I-uh…excuse me…what ?” I said kinda nervous because of the feeling of all the gaze on me.

“I said : you’re lying” she said sure of herself.

“how can you be sure of that ?” I asked without any bad talking, I was just so confused. as she was going to talk about her “thing”, Lancelot explained.

“she can see when people are lying, blah blah blah… anyway, what. were. you. running. off. from ??” he frowned as Tristan did too. I started feeling stress in my tummy.

“I-uhh…I was-“ I’ve been cut again by Tristan touching my shoulder while saying with worried eyes.

“do you want me to call my father for any help ?? he could talk to your paren-“ he had been cut too by me saying clearly and loudly “nope !”

“DON’T CUT WHEN SIR PRINCE TRISTAN LIONES IS TALKING !” yelled the freaking scary girl that was staring at me badly since I got here.

the little kid with a purple helmet said with all his innocence which was so cute “hello ! I’m Percival ! who are you ?”

I jumped again “what are their problems ?? they are all talking at the same time : there’s a girl screaming at me “liar” another tell me life lessons, a boy is presenting himself and Tristan is saying if I need help of his father !!”

calm down (y/n).

before I could say it, Lancelot did it : “wow, guys, you’re all talking at the same time ! calm down !!”

I felt my tension decrease slowly as I looked at the little boy and said with a nice smile “hey ! I’m (y/n) nice to meet you Percival !”

he smiled and chuckled before saying “nice to meet you too !”

“anyways guys i really need to go now…for my reasons.” I started walking forward again before a hand placed on my shoulder.

“will we met again, (y/n) ?” said Tristan with a worried look before I saw Lancelot having the same look. I chuckled before turing to them.

“of course we will, I promise”

he smiled as a relief before I waved to them and ran back out of Liones.

~~~~

as I ran out of Liones, a bag of clothes in my hands, I couldn’t stop thinking about ‘what if Tristan tell his dad ??’

but I trust Tristan, he know that I wasn’t okay with it, he wouldn’t do it…right ?

I stopped running when I bumped into someone in the stable at the exit of Liones. the shock ad a sound of two metals hitting each other. am I bumping into everyone now or what ?

“excuse me” I said not bothering looking at the man, a knight to be more precise.

the man said nothing, just looking at me weirdly. he was looking at me like some model that needed to be perfect. suddenly he touched my hair, I then gasped, reminding of an old memory. I then slapped his hand out of my hairs and looked furiously at him.

“what do you think you’re doing ?!” I exclaimed calmly but with a furious tone.

“would you see yourself as a queen ?”

my eyes widen, what was he on about ?? I felt the aura of others knights hiding somewhere. I felt my breath heavier. and looked at him to respond.

“what are you talking about, you fool ? I won’t marry Tristan !!” I exclaimed slightly confused. I started walking to my horse, trying to get out of this…trap I think ?

“I’m not talking of Liones here” he said with a more serious tone. his eyes locked on me, trying to look at my body trough my armor.

I gasped as I prepared my horse, nearly finished so I can ran out.

“w-well…no, I know it’s some random jokes. now if you’ll excuse me” I said as he chuckled after it. I jumped on my horse looking at him from the top of my horse.

he smiled and said “we’ll see about that then. we will met again, and this time we will take you and bring you to our king”.

I gasped and turn my horse around and started going away from the stable and them. why is this day so awful ??

~~~~

as hours passed fast, my horse felt more and more tired and the was going to let his place to the moon. I then thought that I needed to stop at an hostel. I then went to closer village from where I was.

when I finally saw a village where people lived peacefully. I put my horse in the stable of the village. and then rushed in the hostel, it was already the night.

the hostel was a small one. after I prayed, wishing there was still free rooms, I entered in.

“hello ma’am ! how can I help you ?” said the person directly when I entered : which makes me jump.

“hello, can I get a room for tonight. I’m alone” I smiled slightly at the old man.

“uuh…let me check…yeah…we have still two rooms free so you can get a room” said the old man as he took a key behind him. “It’ll be the room 5”

I took the keys and said thanks and good night as I started walking to my room. when I entered, I heard loud man laugh on the room beside mine, great. I entered my room and started taking my shower.

as I stopped the water and was ready to dry myself, I stopped. I was frozen in place as I heard the conversation of my neighbours.

“yeah…ahah ! King Arthur is searching for a wife…I think our mission is over since we found this girl thus morning in the stable…ahahah, it was quick !”

wait…

what did he said ??!

I started panicking, my first move is to grab my towel and dry myself with a fast and nervous way. ‘(y/n), you’re completely alone right now, if they happen to see you…as the knights of King Arthur…you’re dead’

this night, I didn’t slept well : you know why.

~~~~

the next morning got really fast. you woke up, got ready and got out of your room to checkout the night as the freaking knights were in the bar of the hostel. you gasped, panicking again when the old man called you loudly.

“good morning ma’am ! was everything okay ?”

you wanted to crush his face against his fucking desk. you took a big inspiration and walked in. feeling the gaze of the knights.

“I’d like to checkout” you said as you glared at the poor old man. you then payed and walked fast out of the hostel but…a hand grabbed your shoulder.

“we met again…ma’am” said the knight of the other day. I decided to act dumb :

“excuse me, who are you ?” you said as you grabbed his hand on your shoulder, put it away and glared at him.

“oh, don’t worry, you’ll know soon”

“wait,wha-“ after this, I felt a big blow on the said of my head that knocked me down…

shit…

*to be continued*

[himluv]

Wonder

More Lucanis/Rook - and things are getting... confusing for our hapless rogue. @vorchagirl

It was late. The dining hall’s fire burned low, but the coffee was fresh. Lucanis sat at the table working on his shopping list. He’d had several requests and, with the recent addition of Taash and Emmrich, new palates to consider. He would go to Treviso tomorrow to resupply, and to check in with Teia and Viago.

Taash liked spicy foods, so he’d stock up on various kinds of peppers. Emmrich was vegetarian, which meant they needed more beans, lentils, and squashes. It would be good to have extra – he would get Neve to eat a vegetable if it was the last thing he did. 

Assuming she ever came back.

He’d tried to imagine how it would feel if Rook hadn’t come to Treviso. If the dragon had been permitted to lay waste and spread the blight for hours. Just imagining it broke his heart. He couldn’t fathom how crushed Neve must feel. Lucanis wanted to help, but without her here, he wasn’t sure where to start. 

Rook! Spite said. The demon had taken to announcing the elf’s presence whenever he noticed her, like a dog barking before someone knocked at the door. 

Sure enough, she walked into the dining hall a moment later. She wore the linen shirt she usually wore under her leathers, its deep v-neck loose and flowing without her armor’s belts and pouches holding it in place. 

Mierda, she looked good. He wanted to touch her, her skin, her hair. He wondered if her lips were as soft as he imagined them. Wondered what it would feel like to pull her close and know the curve of her body on his. 

Lucanis cleared his throat and frowned down at his shopping list. He needed to focus. But he wasn’t used to feeling like this. Even with Viago, it’d been more about the man than his body. His dark humor and little smirks had been utterly charming. 

With Rook… somehow it was both? She was funny and interesting, her smile brightened any room, and Lucanis could listen to her talk endlessly. But his body reacted to her presence in a way he hadn’t known it could.

Want. Rook?  Spite asked.

Mierda, yes. There was no point denying it. 

Want Rook. To do what?

Maker help him. He was not going to explain sex to a demon. Especially not when his own understanding of the topic was so… limited.

“Wow,” Rook said from over his shoulder. “What did that shopping list do to you?”

He snorted at that. “It’s late, Rook,” he said. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” She hoisted herself up to sit on the table, swinging her feet. Lucanis pointedly did not look at her as she leaned back into her palms. 

Was she trying to kill him? But, of course she wasn’t. She had no idea what power she held over him, and that was for the best. 

“I’m always up,” he said. 

She scowled at that, but didn’t comment. When it became clear she wasn’t going to say anything else, Lucanis turned his attention back to his list. 

Smells like berries and campfire, Spite said. Warm and soft. He took a big sniff, suddenly appearing to stand between her legs, the demon’s face trailing up her body as he inhaled. Smells nice!

“Spite, could you not? Mierda.” That was not helping.

Rook went still. “What’s he doing?”

“Nothing,” Lucanis said too quickly. He stared down at his list and willed himself not to blush. He was a grown man, even if he was inexperienced. He sighed. “Did you need something, Rook?”

“Oh,” she said. 

Lucanis winced at her disappointed tone. It was late. Everyone else was probably asleep, and after Minrathous, he couldn’t blame her for avoiding her dreams. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not very good company right now.”

“Is…” she paused, as if she was uncertain if she should ask. “Is everything okay?”

He sat back in his chair and looked at her. “I’m fine.”

She raised a brow at him. 

He gave her a tiny smile. “Honestly,” he said. “Just…” he shook his head. “Thinking about Neve.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Me too.”

Was that what was keeping her up at night?

Smoke and fire, Spite said.  Dreams of blood and screams.

That sounded pretty familiar. Although Lucanis tended to dream less of fire and more of water. 

Spite hissed at the memory of the Ossuary.

“She’ll come back,” he said with a confidence he didn’t quite feel.

“I know,” Rook said. She shook her head. “But things will be different.”

“I know.” There was nothing they could do about that. 

After a moment, Rook peered down at his list. “So, what are we eating this week?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he said. “Why? Was there something you wanted?”

She sat back again, tapping her chin with one index finger as she made a show of thinking. 

This time, Lucanis looked. He let his eyes rove over her, noted the swell of her thighs and hips, how they tapered up into her high waist. Maker, he wanted to put his hands there. To feel her ribcage expand as her breath hitched. Her shirt bared a tantalizing view of her sternum, her collarbones and throat. Lucanis wondered what her skin would taste like. Wondered what sounds she would make if he kissed her in that spot where her neck met her shoulder. 

“There’s this stew,” she said. 

Lucanis blinked, his eyes darting up to her face, sure he’d be caught staring. But she was looking up at the ceiling.

“I used to get it in Wycome,” she continued. “When I had the spare coin.” She sighed. “It had mashed potatoes and this rich venison gravy.”

He suddenly wanted nothing more than to make this dish for her. To see her taste a memory of home, hear her moan in pleasure at something he'd made. Did this count as a fantasy? He wasn’t sure. All of this was new territory for him. 

“I don’t know what it’s called though,” she said. “The stall I bought it from just called it ‘Stew’.” She chuckled at that, the sound carrying a forgotten fondness that seemed to surprise her. “I haven’t thought of that place in forever.”

Lucanis smiled at her. “I’ll see what I can find,” he said. He’d never been to Wycome, but despite their independence, the Marches were all fairly similar. He’d had a similar dish while working in Starkhaven some years ago. If he could find the right ingredients, he should be able to recreate something close. 

Rook smiled, and then yawned. She stretched, bowing her back and rolling her body in a way that Lucanis was most definitely not immune to. He kept his arms crossed and his hands balled into fists, otherwise he didn’t trust himself not to reach out and touch her. 

“Thanks, Lucanis,” she said. 

He frowned. “For what?”

She shrugged. “For listening,” she said. “Even when you don’t want to.”

“I always want to.” The words were out before he could stop them. They hung between them, charged and crackling more than the fire behind him. She watched him with those violet-tinged eyes, and her gaze was so intent Lucanis had to look away. 

He cleared his throat and added a few new ingredients to his list. Venison. Potatoes. Cream. Rook slid down off the table, taking his sudden focus as the dismissal it was. He needed space between them again, or he would falter. 

“Goodnight, Lucanis,” she said. 

He waited until she was at the door to say, “Goodnight, Rook.”

She lingered at the door just long enough for him to glance up and catch her smile. It was more than enough to get him through the night.

[cindol]

cotton candy princess reader and her gingerbread man nanamin .

nanami kento x black coded fem reader

tw + — candyland fantasy au ,

cw + — nanami is a gingerbread man but he still looks human in someway, everything in this world is candy based ( obviously ) , reader is low key an workaholic, nanami and reader are friends with some romantic tension, slightly suggestive massage,

syn — to help the cotton candy princess, nanami gives reader a much needed distress massage .

a / n 🍭 : was suppose to be a drabble but it’s more longer (world building sucks ) ! Left on a cliff hanger because erm me bad at endings

back to candyland . ​divider creds : @ / anitalenia

If there was one man who always could hold you down it was nanami, ever since his teen years of spraying that funny ginger snap smell on his blonde hair he was always there for you, just some royal girl with a pink cotton candy afro.

and he definitely knew when you had enough and overworked yourself.

“Nanami have you scheduled that appointment with peppermint knight gojo? I remember him talking about wanting armor updates..”

“miss y/n.”

“oh! And lord licorice, that man can be difficult but please do try and get in contact with his people so that we could come in agreement.”

“y/n..”

“and black milk painter! I know he just moved into this kingdom but I’d like him to feel welcomed by the people and me, please do send a bouquet of chocolate cosmos to his house!”

“y/n!” he said it in a louder tone than usual making you stop your rambling and pacing back and forth around your office desk.

He sighed scratching the back of his head.“I apologize for shouting princess y/n but I can’t help but say perhaps you’re stretching yourself too much..”

you hummed, agreeing but still kept to your original thought.“but I am the princess nanami, I have to stretch myself for these people, time doesn’t wait for me, only moves forward.” It was hard for nanami to get to you, you were just that much a workaholic, working for everybody but never for yourself.

Walking to you nanami put a hand on your shoulder.“yeah? Well this kingdom would need their princess in tip top shape. Time moves forward but I’m sure you can take some time to yourself for one day.” If there was a drum set in here you would’ve heard a comical ‘bddst!’ at his time joke.

you whirred, putting a hand on your chin. Nanami was your assistant, a smart one and you would take his advice just this once.“fine fine.. just for this day since I must.“

Nanami had a soft smile at that.“good, then I can show you exactly what I have planned for you.” that got a confused hummed from you.

unbeknownst to you nanami had been planning a private massage day for you with help from the peppermint knight gojo satoru. As much as he hated the man he knew what a woman needed to relax.

The room he used for the massage session was some abandoned bedroom in the candy kingdom. The lights dimmed, hard wax candy candles lit around the room and a pink massaging table long enough for you body in the middle of the room.

For you this was foreign. You weren’t someone who got your hands dirty but more use to working all day, all night for your people. You didn’t understand how this would help you relax really.

You only chuckled in this pink towel covering your body stopping at your legs. Near the massage table was nanami with his sleeves rolled up putting lotion on his cleaned hands.

“Didn’t know you’re the one giving me this ‘much needed massage’ .” you put quotes on the words with pointer fingers with a quirky giggle.

Nanami just shook his head smiling.“you never asked but again, I didn’t expect you to be the type of woman who would know about massages.”

“what? the pink dress I wear around didn’t make me come off feminine enough to know?” You joked making nanami falter and a slight blush on his face.

You sniggered at his reaction.“oh I’m just pulling your leg kento, now let’s get to this anticipated massage yeah?”

Once it came to the massage you didn’t expect nanami’s hands to be so…. skilled.

His hands smoothed out every uncomfortable crack in your upper back. He was making it hard to not make some hum or grunt.“mmph.. really working those hands of yours aren’t you?”

“Can’t help too, it seems like you’ve never heard of doing a good stretch in the morning, princess.” He innocently added that princess but it made you grumble and a barely visible blush on your face, you knew nanami didn’t mean it any teasing way but with how he said that nearly in your ear while massaging your naked back made you feel funny.

Before you could make a whitty comeback his hands went down to massage your lower back getting a sharp gasp from him and another funny feeling in your stomach.

That made nanami stop his hands massaging your flesh.“hey, you alright there?”

You just coughed, trying to cover up whatever little noise you were gonna make.“just caught me off guard.”

[comatosebunny09]

Stuck on this royalty AU in which you’ve rejected King Astarion’s advances too many times.

You’ve been his bodyguard for years. One of the few people who’s seen the man beneath the crown, stripped bare and bleeding. Naturally, you both grew to care for each other more than a king and subject should.

Astarion’s come dangerously close to confessing his feelings for you. But you’ve always staved him off, believing you’re unfit to be anything more than one who serves him. Never his equal.

Cue you sabotaging your budding romance by suggesting he pursue people of his caliber.

He humors you if only to make you jealous. Even the maids know how this man pines for you.

One day, he takes the hand of a beautiful young woman to tour his garden, whispering things into her ear to make her giggle. He perches a hand at the small of her back. Smiles in that charming, boyish way that he typically reserves for you. He puts on a show just for you, his gaze often flitting over his shoulder because he knows you’re following dutifully behind.

Try as you might to mask your ire, he can practically hear the gears whirring in your head. You’re so blinded by your jealousy that you go stumbling into a pond. How comical a sight you pose, the king’s professional and stone-faced guard dog, sputtering and flailing about like a wet cat.

You’re mortified as his servants scramble to get you out, your cape and armor waterlogged. Astarion instinctively moves to assist, wriggling out of the young woman’s hold. You lock eyes with your king as he reaches for you. Over his shoulder, you watch his guest stifle a giggle behind her gloved hand.

Your heart plummets into your stomach. You could only hope to be someone as beautiful and titillating. The king deserves someone cut from a similar cloth as him, not a lowly dog with calluses on their hands and scars littering their body.

You dismiss yourself with a curt bow, your dignity bruised, your eyes burning with the threat of tears. Hardly notice Astarion briskly excusing himself from his guest to follow you.

You stomp into the servant’s quarters, a few maids scuttling about with towels to dry you off. You’re so embarrassed you don’t even have the voice to tell them you can do it yourself. Astarion cautiously wanders in, quietly dismissing the maids to fetch you a change of uniform.

You can’t meet his eye as he kneels before you, trying vainly to hide his smile whilst he towels you off.

“I’m not even sure what you’re jealous of. You’re the one who told me to move on, remember?” the king softly scolds.

You scoff. “Jealous? Me?”

Astarion gives you a deadpan look. “Darling, you practically drowned yourself trying to get an earful of our conversation.”

“Did not.”

“Right. I suppose the pond stepped into your way, then?”

Another scoff accompanied by heat blooming into your cheeks.

“Come now, darling. As lovely as you are, green just isn’t your color.”

You cut your eyes at him in warning, to which he chuckles something deep and alluring.

Astarion pats your knee, standing to his full height. He offers you his hand, insisting you take it with a look after you refuse him. He pulls you to him, uncaring if his doublet gets wet, pilfering the breath from your lungs.

The king gazes down at you with all the tenderness of the world, his hand splayed at the small of your back. The proximity of your body causes your mind to whirl and your lips to part with a gasp.

“Let’s get you changed, hmm?”

You worry your bottom lip with your teeth. “What about your date, Majesty?”

Astarion shrugs, rolling his eyes dismissively. “I’m sure she’ll find someone else to occupy her time. I’ve more…important matters to attend to,” he says, his gaze simmering like a low flame.

He ushers you into the hallway, steering you towards his room to get you cleaned up. A luxury only you know, no one else having been allowed to see his room as often as you have.

You shiver, still soaked to the bone. Astarion tucks you close into his side, rubbing your arm to ward off the chill. You smile triumphantly quietly, knowing you’re the only person he’s touched like this in years.

[notme123stuff]

Hi Uhm I’m new to tumblr so idk how this works but could you kindly do a fic with like Griffith x reader where reader is like female Guts and he’s obsessed and infatuated with her so much and he’s possessive and one night they sleep together and he convinces her to sleep with him? Because she was going to leave or something that night

ofc :) WARNINGS: possessiveness, reader and griffith just sleep not like sleep sleep if you get what i mean. yall should be fine it aint that hardcore per say your shoulders ace as you lift your sword to strike, though it isn't too big it is definitely taller than your already muscular body. but you are used to it. you got used to it for him, this event has repeated so much that you don't feel the deja vu anymore. you had killed so many other people for him. Though you do have more leisure time with your choices, after all, you're so good at your job. you were born on the battlefield and were made for it. The sound of steel clashing against steel echoed through the night, the battlefield littered with the remnants of your work. Blood splattered across your face, mixing with the sweat and grime from the relentless combat. Your sword felt like an extension of your arm, a tool you wielded with deadly precision, all for him. You sheathed your blade, surveying the bodies that lay at your feet. The rhythmic pounding of your heart, still calming down from the battle, filled your ears. It was just another night. Another slaughter for his cause. "You're still standing," Griffith's voice rang softly from behind, smooth and laced with an almost imperceptible admiration. He had that way about him—his words like a caress, but with an edge that could cut as deeply as your sword. You didn’t turn to face him. You didn't need to. You could feel his gaze burning into you, the same way it always did. He watched you, always watching. "I’m always standing," you replied gruffly, wiping the blood from your hands on your armor. Your muscles ached, your bones tired, but you were used to it. You’d grown accustomed to the endless cycle of violence, fighting for his ambitions, his dream. But lately, that dream felt like a cage tightening around your chest. For a long time, you didn’t question it. You followed him, fought for him, bled for him—because you had nowhere else to go. But tonight… tonight you felt different. There was a gnawing ache in your chest, one you couldn’t ignore any longer. You’d been thinking about leaving. Finally breaking free. You inhaled deeply, turning to face him. His pale hair glimmered in the moonlight, eyes were like icy pools that seemed to draw you in. Griffith was the embodiment of everything you once thought you wanted, but now… now you weren’t so sure. "I'm leaving after this," you said, your voice steady despite the tension between you. "I've done enough." pt 2 will be released

[itsupermanti]

Fate/RWBY; Remnants of Silver Chapter 1; Shining Fragments

Ruby continues to stare up at the transformed Jaune in awe, before the scene pauses like an old VHS.

Let’s rewind, shall we?

The scene and audio begin rewinding like an old VHS tape before unpausing.

Blond Haired woman(crying out to a knight in silver armor with an aqua tunic): YOU WERE MINE!!!

The scene quickly starts fast-forwarding past the scene.

WHOOPS!!! TOO FAR BACK!!!

Jaune?(eyes green and standing before a black haired girl in the middle of a green house): I’m Saber, a servant who will protect you.

The scene fast forwards again.

Still too far back! Hold on…

Ozpin(sitting before Ruby in a police interrogation room): You have silver eyes…

Almost there! Aaaand, there we go!

Ruby(slumped down in a crater in Beacon’s courtyard): Welcome to Beacon…

???(standing over her with amusement in his voice): You know?

???(as Ruby slowly gazes up to look at the blond standing over her): There are much better places to rest than in a giant hole.

Jaune(smiling as he offers Ruby a hand up): Need a hand?

A few minutes later;

Jaune(smirking at Ruby): Well, what if I called you “Crater Face”?

Ruby(crossing her arms with a pout): That explosion was an accident!

Jaune(chuckling to himself in amusement): Sure~ it was…

Jaune(holding his hands up in a placating manner as Ruby turns to pout at him): Hey, calm down, it was just a joke, okay?

Ruby(glaring at the blond): Do you see me laughing?

Jaune(shaking his head with a small smirk): Okay, okay, message received, I’m sorry.

Jaune(pointing at his chestplate): Name’s Jaune by the way. Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls of the tongue.

Jaune(raising his brow in a suave manner at Ruby): The ladies love it.

Ruby(holding back a snort at the corny pick up line before raising a brow): Pfft! Do they?

Jaune(shrugging his shoulders): Eh, just give it some time.

Ruby(shaking her head in amusement): Well anyways, my name is Ruby.

Ruby(holding her hand out to Jaune): Ruby Rose.

Jaune(smiling as he accepts the hand and shakes it): Nice to meet you Ruby.

Jaune(neither of them aware of faint marks appearing on the back of Ruby’s hand): This feels like the start of a great friendship!

A few more minutes later;

Jaune(raising a brow as they enter the Beacon Auditorium): Seriously, how can a girl as small as you walk around with the weight of a scythe that big completely unbothered?

Ruby(giving him a playful pout): I’m stronger than I look, I drink milk!

Jaune(sweat-dropping at that statement): Right…

???(calling out to them): Hey Ruby! I saved you a spot!

Ruby(turning to spot her blonde sister): That’s my big sister Yang!

Ruby(turning to Jaune with a sheepish look on her face): I’m gonna go join her.

Ruby(her eyes narrowing into an angry glare): And chew her out for leaving me behind…

Jaune(shaking his head as he remembers how vindictive his own younger sisters can get): Yeah, I get that…

Ruby(giving Jaune a small smile): Catch up later?

Jaune(returning the smile): I look forward to it.

Jaune gives Ruby a wave as she turns and rushes towards her sister, before sighing to himself with a shake of his head.

Jaune(placing a hand on his waist as he sees Ruby head off into the crowd): I don’t know why…

Jaune(unaware of a redheaded girl in bronze and brown armor perking her head up and turning towards him): But I have a good feeling about her.

[froggibus]

Vermillion Flames - Blackwatch! Genji

Pairing: Blackwatch! Genji Shimada x f! Reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: angst, smut/NSFW

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Genji is the newest addition to Blackwatch, and while he seems to be angry at everything, his anger seems to be clouded over by something else—his feelings for you

CW: dubcon, dark! Genji, Blackwatch! Genji, dom! Genji, sub! reader, dacryphilia, masturbation, marking, choking, possessiveness, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, breeding? kinda, violence, reader gets shot, mutual pining, Genji is a lil obsessive

THIS IS NOT THE HAPPY, WELL-ADJUSTED GENJI WE KNOW AND LOVE. THIS IS A DARKER, BLACKWATCH GENJI WHO IS STILL COPING WITH HIS THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS AFTER THE INCIDENT.

I’ve had this idea for a really long time and at one point was writing a full length fic about this, but I always lose motivation so here is the bite sized version lol. I kinda tried to keep his character here while also playing to the darker elements, especially his feelings towards himself and others after the accident. also I’m just super down bad for dark! Genji so enjoy <3

————

If there’s anything you’ve come to learn in your time as a Blackwatch agent, it’s how to know when you’re being watched. 

Despite stepping off of the jet into the cold Russian air, you feel the warm sting of eyes on your back. You glance over your shoulder—but the only people around are your teammates. 

Cole Cassidy isn’t even looking your way, his focus is on the holster attached to his belt and the Peacekeeper that sits inside of it. 

Gabriel Reyes has his holopad out, eyes narrowed at the schematics on his screen. He doesn’t seem aware of what’s going on around him, but you know Reyes—he’s always watching. 

Moira O’Deorain hasn’t even stepped off of the jet yet. Your best guess is she’s still gathering all of her equipment into a bag that she’ll force Cassidy to carry later on. 

So that leaves Genji. The mysterious cyborg is the newest addition to your team and he’s kept to himself the past few weeks. You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t caught your eye, but you knew better. Reyes and Cassidy had constantly reminded you that he was dangerous, unstable. Still, the dangerous air to him sends electricity arcing up your back.

You shrug it off. Maybe you’re just paranoid because you’re about to infiltrate a terrorist organization. You turn back to the terrain ahead. 

Genji Shimada can’t seem to tear his eyes off of you. Something about the sway of your hips, the swell of your ass, just captivates him. Dark eyes stare at you, shockwaves rushing through his system. 

It’s been so long since a woman has been able to capture his attention. Ever since he became the cyborg monstrosity he sees himself as, he hasn’t had time for women. Or more accurately, women don’t want a robot for a boyfriend. 

He suppresses a sigh. The group has already started trekking through the snow, and he has no choice but to follow. The cold air does wonders to suppress the heat rushing through him, and he’s grateful for his mask so that no one sees the red tinge to his face. He forces his eyes to look at the horizon, to look at the path ahead, to look anywhere but you.

The trek to the facility feels like an eternity, and you’re not sure if it’s from the eyes burning into you or the deep snow, or some combination of both. 

You shake it off. You can’t afford to be distracted on this mission, and Genji is off limits. 

—

Genji is less than enthused when Reyes pairs him off with you. He couldn’t help but notice the way you shrunk in on yourself when Reyes called his name. He hates how the sight sends blood rushing through him.

The two of you set out on sneaking through the vents of the facility, blindly feeling your way through the dark in hopes to find the lab. You can hear Genji breathing behind you and see the red glow of his armor reflected on the vents. Having him behind you now, nowhere to stare but you, only confirms what you thought earlier. He was looking at you. You’re not sure how to feel about that. 

You’re so distracted by his presence that you don’t realize the loose grate beneath you until you’re falling through it, tumbling towards the ground. You barely manage to brace yourself before you hit the rubber floor of the facility, using your momentum to roll. 

Unfortunately, your entrance was less than graceful and now the Talon agents in the room are staring at you. 

Genji groans, shaking his head at you. Great. He watches as one of the agents hits the panic button, and red lights and an alarm start blaring. He watches from the vent, waiting to see what you’ll do. 

The agents in the room flee, but they’re replaced by other agents in full body armor, carrying pulse rifles. You stand your ground, extending out your bo staff and spinning it in front of you with expert grace. 

If he wasn’t so pissed off at you, Genji would be impressed. 

He lets you fight off the first wave on your own, but as soon as the agents start to overwhelm you, he’s dropping out of the vent. He lands silently, the agents not even noticing him until he’s slicing through their ranks. 

You finish off the last of your agents and freeze, watching him fight. He’s a blur of silver and black and red, a gory mess but beautiful in the same sense a graveyard is. Watching him now, you see why Cass and Reyes had warned you about him—you can almost see the ghosts of his past following him through the fight. 

You’re so distracted, so infatuated, you don’t notice the stray bullet headed straight for you. 

Genji reacts before you do, diving in front of you and deflecting it into the straggling agent. The agent collapses to the ground, a hole burning in his chest armor. 

“T-thank you.”

Genji spins around, staring down at you. He’s not very tall, but he just seems so much bigger than you right now. You wait for him to say something, anything, but instead he just sighs. 

The two of you make your way through the facility as quietly as you can, blending into the shadows casted by the blinking red lights. Every once in a while, Genji grabs your wrist harshly to tug you along with him. You don’t need words to know he’s pissed at you. 

He’s so mad at you, so frustrated with your inability to focus. And yet a stupid part of him still wants to protect you.

The journey back to the jet feels like an eternity, made worse by Genji’s complete and utter silence. You try to make conversation with him, avoiding bringing up what just happened, but it only seems to make him more angry. He walks slightly ahead of you, refusing to let himself look at you. 

The emotions swelling in his chest are so confusing, he just wants to hit something. He’s so angry at you, and your stupid sunshine persona just keeps talking and talking. He’s half tempted to tell you to shut up, stop talking, but he knows he has to keep it together until you’re back to safety. And though he’s angry, another part of him isn’t.

It’s the first time in months he’s felt something that wasn’t riddled in angst and guilt, and he hates it. He hates that he wants to just look at you. Just stare at you for hours on end. He hates the way you make his heart race and the blood rush to his groin. 

Just before you make it to the jet, a few meters from where the ramp is down and you’re sure Reyes and Cass and Moira are waiting, you try to catch up with Genji.

You jog up to his side, trying to grab his shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, I’m really sorry for—”

Genji spins around impossibly fast, catching your wrist in his metal palm. He squeezes it enough for it to hurt. You try to pull away but he keeps you there—a display of his strength, and the difference between the two of you. You hate the way it makes your heart speed up in spite of the pain. 

“Don’t.” He simply says, but he doesn’t let go of your wrist. 

His tone catches you by surprise. You’ve barely ever talked to him, and now he sounds so angry with you, it makes you shiver. 

You glare at him, waiting for him to say something else. He glares back, red eyes narrowing in on you. When your eyes meet, there’s that electricity again. You wonder if he feels it too. 

Then, as if nothing happened, he drops your wrist and boards the plane. You catch your aching wrist, rubbing at the sore skin, before following him onto the jet. 

—

You’re pulled into Morrison’s office almost as soon as you land back at HQ. Reyes follows you in, ready to both berate and defend you in front of his closest comrade. You stand the whole time, fingers fiddling with the foam head of the chair next to Reyes. 

You zone out while Jack yells, staring at the wall above his head, waiting for it to be over. Everything he’s saying is true—you were reckless, distracted, stupid. You could have gotten everybody killed, one more mistake like this and there won’t be a place for you within Blackwatch anymore. 

Genji listens from the other side of the door. He tried to stop himself, but the look on your face when Reyes started to guide you down the hall changed his mind. You looked so scared. He wasn’t going to let you face that alone. 

Everytime Jack raises his voice, Genji’s hand clenches the door handle, ready to burst into the room. Yet he doesn’t, because everytime, you just say ‘yes sir’ in that cute obedient voice that’s driving him crazy. 

At a particularly loud burst, he’s turning the handle when he hears the loud clicking of boots behind him. 

“Don’t,” Cassidy warns, “it ain’t worth it.”

He spins around, squinting at the cowboy. They’ve barely interacted, but when they have, it’s been brief. 

“Y/n made the mistake, y/n’s gotta pay for it. Simple.” 

Genji takes a deep breath. He knows he’s right, it’s none of Genji’s business. But something about being told to leave you alone, let you face this alone, makes him so angry. He can feel the blood rush to his ears. 

“I don’t know if I like you muckin’ about in their business, anyway.” He raises an eyebrow at the cyborg, “y/n’s a good person.” 

Though he doesn’t say it, the implication is loud and clear. You’re a good person, he’s not. Still, being told to stay away from you only makes him want to be with you more. He hates it. 

“Just,” the cowboy sighs, taking back his earlier judgment. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He turns on his heel and walks down the hallway, spurs clicking the whole way. 

They’ve been talking for so long that the meeting is almost over, and Genji only has a few seconds to dash down the hall before the door is swinging open. 

You tug on your hair in frustration, forcing yourself to keep your feelings in until you get to your room. You scream as soon as your door closes behind you, kicking a pile of clothes in frustration. 

You pull off your suit, toss it with the clothes, and collapse in a heap on your bed. You fucked up so bad, you really, really fucked up. And it’s all because of that stupid fucking cyborg and his stupid fucking attitude. 

You lay there in your underwear for god knows how long, sobbing out your frustrations for the day. 

Genji sits in his bed on the other side of the wall. He can hear you, and a part of him wants to comfort you. But another, darker part of him just wants to see you cry. He shakes his head—when did he get so fucked up?

Still, he can’t help but seethe. He’s the only one who should be making you cry like this, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be from him yelling at you. God. 

He tugs off his visor and slams it on his nightstand. He doesn’t even know how to deal with his feelings anymore. It’s been so long since he’s felt anything but this burning anger, and the combination of these emotions are driving him crazy. You’re driving him crazy. 

It’s like his attraction has dialed up to 11, and he doesn’t know how to cope. 

He can still hear your sobs from the other side of the wall, and he hates the way it makes his cock swell. It hurts—straining against the metal plate of his armor. 

He groans, part pain, part pleasure. He hates his body, he hates his stupid robot parts. And the fact that he can’t even get a hard on anymore without it hurting makes him hate everything even more. 

He strips out of his armor, peeling away the metal parts that he can, despising the ones he can’t. Still, he’s happy that his cock is free, the fresh air feeling amazing on his sensitive head. 

He spits in his hand, spreading out the moisture on the shaft of his cock. He focuses on the sound of your crying through the walls, shutting his eyes and rubbing himself while he listens to it. You sound so pretty, so weak. He loves it. 

He only wishes he was in there with you.

He speeds up his movements, thrusting into his hand. He can picture it so well—him pinning you to the bed, fucking you until you cry like that. Listening to you beg and whine and sob all night. 

He’s finishing in his hand before he can finish the fantasy, wiping off the cum with a tissue and tossing it in the trash. 

He lays back in bed. What the fuck is wrong with me? He was never like this before, never into stuff like this before. And he knows a part of him will never be the same since the accident, but he didn’t know it would be like this. 

He wants to protect you. He wants to avoid you. He wants to fuck you, he wants to make you cry. He wants to make you feel better, he wants to take care of you. It makes his head spin. He’s never been obsessed like this before. 

He shakes his head. He needs to stay away from you before this gets any worse. 

—

Genji avoids you like the plague after that. He always chooses to spar with Cass during training, he refuses to be your partner on missions, and when he is, he just ignores you the whole time. 

You’re not even sure what you did wrong. You know there was that weird, tense moment after you messed up that mission, but you didn’t think that was reason enough to hate you. The whole enigma of him makes your head spin, but it’s so alluring that you couldn’t hate him even if you wanted to. 

Sometimes you catch him staring at you, red eyes examining you like prey, but as soon as you notice it, it’s done. You’re not one to talk though—sometimes you catch yourself zoning out on him, watching his arms as he trains, watching his sweaty black hair falling in his face. 

The tension between you two is suffocating. 

So of course Reyes has to assign him to be your partner on an undercover mission in London. 

The mission starts off normal, but so did all of the other ones. Genji keeps a close eye on you, ready to make sure you don’t get distracted and fuck up again. Still, he’s the one that’s distracted. Ever since that day in his room when he got off on hearing you cry, his feelings towards you have only grown. 

He shakes his head and forces himself to focus. He can’t afford to get distracted here—not when either one of you could get hurt in the process. 

The rooftops of London are completely empty, and so are the streets, surprisingly. The two of you creep around, trying to make your way to the stakeout point so you can observe a secret meetup. The air smells of petrichor, the sky threatening to open up and pour down on you. You wouldn’t complain if it did. You need something to cool you off from the thoughts you’ve been having about Genji. 

You make it to the designated spot, setting up your stuff. You radio to Reyes that you’ve arrived at the vantage point and he radios back that the deal should be happening at any minute. 

Any minute, which is code for anytime in the next hour. You hope it’s sooner rather than later so you don’t have to deal with this awkward silence. You fiddle with your fingers, tapping them on your knees. 

Genji watches you closely. He watches the way you mess around with your fingers, watches your chest with every breath you take. That costume fits you perfectly, and he hates the idea that other people get to see you like this. 

The meeting happens only a few minutes after you arrive, a tall omnic dressed in a suit emerging from the shadows to deal with a scraggly looking man. Genji observes them closely while you take pictures, capturing everything they do. 

Something seems wrong, though. They’re not exchanging goods like the intel said they would be. In fact, it doesn’t seem like a secret meeting at all. Genji realizes it’s a trap a second too late, only managing to shove you down as a bullet rips across the landscape. 

It grazes your shoulder, a burning pain spreading through your body. You collapse to the ground with a whine, Genji landing on top of you. He presses his hand to your mouth to keep you quiet. 

You’re in so much pain—you’re not sure you’ve ever felt this way before. It burns and it aches and it feels as though you’ve been ripped apart. Genji presses down on the wound and a scream leaves your throat just as another bullet rips through the air. 

It just barely misses the top of Genji’s head. 

“Stay here,” he breathes heavily, suddenly pouncing to his feet. 

That’s the most he’s spoken to you in weeks, and it’s the first thing you’ve heard him say without that tone behind it. You watch as he stands up and draws his sword, challenging the sniper to shoot again. 

They do, and Genji is ready. He deflects it back perfectly, the clang of metal on metal replacing the sound of the shot. There’s a yelp from far away, and satisfied that he’s got them, Genji returns to your side. 

Only, you’ve lost so much blood that you’re barely coherent. “Fuck!” He taps your face, willing you to stay with him, but you drift off. 

—

You wake up in a hotel room, body aching in the clean linen sheets. Your shoulder burns, and then you remember what happened. You sit up quickly, tugging off your shirt to examine the wound. It’s been cleaned and bandaged, under a huge patch of blood stained gauze. 

You sigh in relief. You’re not dead—but you would be if it weren’t for Genji.

The hotel room is fairly clean, aside from your bloody uniform that’s laying on the ground next to the bed. You blink a few times. You were on a mission—where did you get a spare change of clothes? Did Genji go shopping?

As if on cue, Genji speaks from where he’s sitting near the closed curtains. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” you admit. 

He nods, clearly not in a joking mood. “They won’t be able to extract us until tomorrow morning. Reyes set up this room for us and sent the extra clothes.”

That makes sense. There’s no way they’d be able to get you two out of the streets without drawing attention, especially after shots were fired. 

You rub the seam of the gauze, trailing over the wound subconsciously. 

“We should change that.”

You follow him into the bathroom, awkwardly sitting on the counter while he pulls out a grocery bag of first aid supplies. You pull off your shirt, embarrassed at the prospect of him seeing you half naked. At least you were unconscious and didn’t have to deal with the humiliation last time. 

You don’t miss the way Genji’s eyes graze over your skin, tracing the outline of your collarbone. It makes you heat up, thoughts of him kissing you there flooding your mind. You shake them away—he’s just helping you out. It’s wrong to think of him this way. 

 He peels off the old gauze covering, discarding it in the trash, before dabbing alcohol across the wound. 

You watch him work, fingers knowing what to do without him even thinking about it. He traces the outline of the gauze after he places it on your skin, cold metal fingers settling the hotter parts of you. 

You shiver under his touch, looking up at him. Genji looks back, dark eyes meeting your softer ones. You offer him a gentle grin. 

His hand moves from your shoulder to your hip, squeezing it. He finds himself leaning in, and you find yourself getting closer. And then just before your lips touch, he pulls away like he’s been burned. 

“G-Genji?”

He shakes his head, storming out of the bathroom. You follow after him, not even bothering to tug your shirt back on. 

“Don’t come near me!”

You furrow your brows at his words. “What? What’s going on? Did I do something wrong? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks!”

He tugs on his hair, repeatedly shaking his head at you. You can see the way his muscles are tensing, see the way he’s trying to show restraint. But why? 

“Genji,” you step closer to him cautiously, like you’re approaching a wild animal. “What is it?”

He keeps shaking his head, eyes focused on the floor, ignoring you completely. You take another step, only inches from him now. 

“Genji.”

“I’m a fucking monster, okay?” His outburst makes you flinch but you hold your ground. “I’m not even human anymore, and I have all these sick fucking thoughts about what I want to do to you and—you should just stay away from me, okay?”

“What kind of sick thoughts?”

“You don’t want to know,” his eyes finally meet yours. 

You step an inch closer, standing on your toes so that your mouth hovers near his. “I think I do.”

“Y/n,” he warns. 

You ignore the warning. You ignore all of the red flags. You ignore the voice in your head that says maybe this isn’t the best idea. You jump into his arms, smashing your lips against his and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

He turns you around to slam you into the wall, being careful to avoid reopening your wound. He’s so hungry for you, so desperate. His lips nip at yours like a man starved, all he wants, all he needs right now is to have you. 

He carries you over to the bed, tossing you into it before climbing on top of you and ripping off your pants. You’re left naked, shivering in anticipation at what he’s going to do to you. 

You don’t know how deep his cybernetic parts run, you hardly know anything about him, but he’s all you want. You tug him to you by his hair, making him kiss you again. One of his metal thighs slips between your legs, giving you something to grind your wet pussy against while you make out. 

His lips move down to your neck, biting at the sensitive skin. Moans force their way out of your throat, the sting of his teeth breaking the skin making your eyes water. 

Genji pulls back, looking at your teary eyes. The thought of finally having you like this, so vulnerable underneath him, is enough to make him feral. 

His hand is slipping between your legs, shoving two fingers inside of you with ease. Your wet pussy gushes around him, begging him for more. You whine at his roughness—but it’s so fucking good. 

He shoves them in and out of you, curling them inside of you in a way that makes your eyes roll back. His mouth finds its way to your tits, biting your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. The sound has his cock swelling even more, straining against the metal. 

He slips a third finger in you, stretching you out in such a delicious, amazing way. You moan his name, trying to let him know you’re getting close, but Genji is too drunk on the feeling of you to listen. 

He keeps attacking your chest with his mouth, leaving bruises and bite marks across your skin. It’s his way of marking his territory, of showing everyone who you belong to. 

He’s wanted this for so long, and he’s going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you. 

You cum hard on his fingers, and Genji stops just to watch how pretty you look when you cum. He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking off the juices and moaning at the taste. 

The sight of him is enough to make you horny again, and suddenly you’re thrusting your hips in the air, desperate for any sort of contact. 

“So desperate,” he teases. 

“I-I—”

He mocks you, popping off the metal plate from his crotch and stroking his cock. He rubs his head through your folds, collecting up your slick on his shaft. You’re already ready for him, your first orgasm prepping you more than enough.

He pushes his whole cock in, your walls straining to take him. He can’t quite get his whole length inside of you, so he pulls out and shoves it in again. He watches as he sinks in and out of you, the last two inches of his cock staying outside of the wetness he longs to be in. 

He’s bigger than you’re used to, and your pussy is already so sensitive. That doesn’t stop Genji, though. He keeps slamming his hips into yours, trying to force his cock inside of you. You whimper with every thrust, almost screaming when he hits that spot deep inside of you. 

Genji rolls his hips into yours, thrusting hard and deep. He grabs at your neck, strong hand gently squeezing. You gasp at the sudden feeling and the lack of oxygen, but the burning in your throat feels so good you don’t want him to stop. Everything starts to get fuzzy, and the feeling of Genji railing you starts to feel even better. 

You don’t even realize you’re cumming until he releases his grip on your throat and lets you breathe. The blood rushes to your ears. Your eyes have teared up from the choking, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. You go to wipe them away, but Genji pins your wrists above your head. 

The sight of you lying beneath him, whimpering and crying like he imagined has him going crazy. He keeps bullying his cock into your swollen pussy, thrusts getting sloppier by the second until he fully bottoms out and pumps his cum inside of you. 

“G-Genji,” you breathe. “Did—did you just—”

Genji’s too drunk on your pussy to listen, fucking his cum back inside of you. The hot mixture of his cum and your juices being fucked inside of you has you curling your toes. 

His pace is brutal, his mind only set on fucking you full and keeping you stuffed. He pushes your legs up into your stomach, fucking you into a mating press. 

Your vision blurs from the tears, your nerves overloading from the overstimulation and making you shiver. Genji fucks you through it, pounding into you, sure to get his entire length in every time. It’s not long before you’re cumming again, your body convulsing with your orgasm. Your thighs shake uncontrollably, but Genji holds them in place while he finishes fucking you. 

He reaches up to wipe the tears from your face, the sight of you sobbing only making him fuck you harder. God, he’s wanted this for so long and he’ll do anything to keep it. Anything as long as he gets to keep fucking you like this. 

“G-gonna finish inside of you,” he groans. “Gonna stuff you full. Y-you like that?”

You nod furiously, but you’re so fucked out that he could do anything to you at this point and you wouldn’t care. Genji cums with a string of moans and curses, cock twitching inside of you. 

He doesn’t pull out, instead, he lays on his side and tugs you so your back is pressed against his chest. He keeps his cock inside of you, holding his cum inside.

It’s not long before you’re falling asleep, Genji’s fingers tracing patterns on your stomach. For the first time in a long time, he feels like the anger and the darkness within him are sated, and for now, that’s more than enough.

[fanfictionalraven]

Dream Warriors Chapter 10

Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 10

Summary: Can our Dream Warriors make it out alive?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, other original characters

Word Count: 3,112

Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril

Author’s Note: The grand finale!! I can't believe it's really over. This series has taken me a long time to finally get completely posted. I'm pretty proud of it. I hope you've enjoyed the ride. Let's see how it all ends...

Read Chapter 9 here.

Still laying in Dean’s arms, you let out another scream. Dean glares up at the witch as she continues to smirk at the two of you in the floor. 

“I’ll kill you. If you take over her body, I will kill you,” he threatens. 

“See, I don’t think you’ll be able to. I know how she feels about you and, from her memories, I’m pretty sure you feel the same way,” she says as she walks over and kneels down next to the two of you. “It’s so cliché. The two best friends who are so madly in love but too afraid to cross that line. I’ve seen that movie a hundred times. I think I’ll change the ending.” She rises to her feet and moves over to the refrigerator in the room. Pulling the door open, she looks in and grabs a bottle of water. “Maybe I’ll get the guy.” You grit your teeth and lay your head back against Dean’s shoulder, another pain hitting. 

“If I don’t make it, you better rip her apart,” you tell him. He presses a kiss to your temple and shakes his head. 

“You’re gonna make it, Sweetheart,” he says before moving to prop you up against the counter. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before rising to his feet. The witch looks over and smiles widely.

“Oh, you wanna fight?” She asks, setting the bottle on the counter. “How adorable. The knight in shining armor, willing to die for his love.” You let out another scream and watch in horror as Dean charges at the witch. She merely laughs and with a flick of her wrist, sends him flying into the opposite wall. “Dean, Dean, Dean…” She says as she walks over towards him. “I’ve got the power here. I am in complete control.” He forces himself up and swings at her, knocking her back, stunned. “Why you little…” She snaps her fingers and Dean screams out in pain. 

“Stop!!” You scream out, watching as he twists in agony on the floor. “Stop!! I’ll give up!!” She looks at you and raises an eyebrow. You swallow thickly, fighting tears. “Let him go, let him wake up, and I’ll give up. I’ll stop fighting.” 

“Y/N, no!!” Dean calls out through gritted teeth. 

“Please,” you beg. The witch watches you for a moment before snapping her fingers once again. Dean stops screaming and sits back, leaning against the wall behind himself. “Send him back,” you tell her. 

“I will. Calm down. How did you get here though?” She asks, looking back at Dean. He sets his jaw, staring her down. With a smirk, she raises a hand towards you and Dean’s eyes widen. 

“A different spell,” he tells her in a rush. The witch nods her head slowly as she thinks this over. 

“Like a backdoor…fascinating,” she says mostly to herself. You watch her and frown. 

“Send him back,” you say once again. She glances at you and with a wave of her hand, Dean disappears. You let out a sigh and lay your head back against the counter. “Can we at least stop this charade?” You ask. She waves her hand once again and the pain fades away along with your overgrown stomach. Closing your eyes, you can feel the life slipping away from you. It wouldn’t be long now. 

“So many regrets,” the witch says, watching you. You glance at her and frown. 

“Please stop reading my mind,” you tell her. She laughs lightly and crosses her arms. 

“All those different scenarios…all those different plays…this was your favorite,” she says. You sigh and close your eyes again, trying to ignore her. “A normal, happy life. Completely domestic. Married and a baby on the way. You two could have really been happy.” 

“I’m just gonna picture Dean killing you now, if that’s okay,” you tell her. She laughs as she sits in one of the chairs at the table. 

“I don’t get it. You’re so obviously in love with him, enough to die for him now, but you never said anything. Never made a move,” she says. You groan and shake your head. 

“This is not how I pictured the end,” you mumble. She watches you for a moment before waving her hand once again. The kitchen scene disappears and is replaced with a more familiar one. “This isn’t my room,” you comment. You were now resting in Dean’s bed in the bunker. She smiles from her chair across the room. 

“You’d rather be in here and we both know it,” she says. You lean back against the headboard with a sigh and close your eyes, thinking about the last time you were really in here. Dean had been beaten up pretty bad on a hunt and you’d stayed the night with him, watching over him and taking care of his wounds. “This is getting sickening.” 

“Well it’s still my mind for a few more minutes. I’ll think about whatever I want,” you tell her. 

“You could at least picture him naked,” she mumbles causing you to actually laugh out loud. The laugh dies out quickly as you grimace, squeezing your eyes closed a little tighter. As you lose yourself in different memories, one flashes through your mind and you quickly tuck it away before she has a chance to see it too. It wasn’t a happy one. Dean was a demon, hunting you and Sam in the bunker. You’d taken refuge here in his bedroom, a place you knew was stocked with hidden weapons. 

“Why didn’t you just kill me?” You ask, forcing yourself to sit up. She glances over at you and rolls her eyes. 

“Loophole in the spell. I can inflict pain. I can cause injury but I have to drain the life from you slowly,” she explains as she checks her nails. You nod slightly and swing your legs over the side of the bed. “What are you doing?” 

“I just want to stretch my legs,” you tell her. You knew your legs were too weak to support your weight and that’s what you were counting on at this point. “Spell seems complicated. Have you done it before?” You ask, trying to keep her talking so she wouldn’t be as focused on you. She sighs and lays her head back. 

“Hundreds of times. I’ve been jumping bodies for centuries now. I’d lost my book in the last jump when I landed in this…child. Kaylee,” she sneers the name with disgust. You glance at her and frown. 

“Not a fan of the name?”

“Much too modern,” she says, looking at her nails casually.

“And what do you prefer? Eve?” You question, earning a laugh. She glances over at you, smirking.

“Hardly.” She eyes you for a moment as you continue to gauge your strength. “Morcant was my given name. Of course, you people have modernized it. Morgan.”

“If you’ve done this so many times, why did you need the book?” You ask, standing up carefully. Your legs wobble beneath you. She sighs now, seemingly exasperated by your continued questioning.

“If you must know, it’s the source of my power. Without the book, I’ve got nothing,” she says. It’s only a moment before your legs give out, as you’d expected, and you collapse to the floor with a crash. The witch looks at you and starts to laugh, rising from her seat. “Not as strong as you’d thought, hmmm?” She taunts, dropping down next to you. Your hand slips under the bed and immediately comes into contact with something cold and metallic. You look up at her and smirk. 

“No. But I’m strong enough,” you say before pulling the angel blade from under the bed. You drive the spike into her stomach and she screams out in agony. 

“You bitch!!” She spits through gritted teeth. Something flashes in her eyes briefly before she smirks. She waves a hand and… 

You sit up suddenly with a gasp and take in your surroundings. Six eyes are watching you closely, all shocked. Sam. Cas. Rowena. The pain surges through you suddenly and you let out an unearthly scream as you fall back into the pillows. You’re immediately aware of the body next to you. Despite the pain coursing through you, you realize that Dean is next to you, still unconscious. 

“No,” you mumble, trying to reach for him. You hadn’t noticed Sam had left the room until he comes back. 

“What’s that?” Cas asks. Sam uncaps the syringe and grabs your arm. 

“Morphine. I took it from the hospital,” he tells him before stabbing it into your arm. It acts quickly, numbing the pain. You feel the pull to go back under and reach out for Sam, to ask him about Dean. He takes your hand in his but the drug takes its full effect before you can get the words out. 

You come to some time later, groggy and confused. You aren’t in the bedroom anymore. Now, you’re in the dungeon, strapped to the chair in the center of the room. The pain is still very much present but it isn’t as bad as before, the morphine still working. The door to the dungeon opens and Sam steps into the room. 

“Sam! Where’s Dean?” You ask. He watches you for a moment then looks down the hall. 

“Rowena, she’s awake,” he calls out before stepping into the room fully. 

“Did Dean wake up?” You ask, trying to pull against the restraints. The younger Winchester ignores your pleas, arms crossed over his chest. Rowena steps into the room now and walks over. She blows a fistful of powder into your face, causing you to cough. “The hell??” You gasp, triggering the pain in your side. 

“Truth spell,” Sam explains. You stare at him for a moment before you nod, understanding. 

“Please, hurry,” you beg. Sam waits for a moment, allowing the spell to take full effect. You groan in agony, hanging your head. “Sam, please.” Rowena looks at him and nods once. 

“What’s your name?” Sam asks. Something rushes through you, a tingling sensation, as the spell works. 

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you tell him quickly. You can visibly see the relief wash over him. 

“What happened?” He asks as he rushes over to untie your wrists. 

“Got an angel blade from under Dean’s bed and stabbed her,” you explain. He frowns and nods. “Where’s Dean?” 

“He hasn’t woken up yet,” he says. His words wash over you. That wasn’t possible. 

“No. No, she was supposed to send him back,” you tell him. He looks at you and shakes his head slightly. 

“What?” He asks. 

“I made a deal with her. I’d give up if she sent him back. He…he disappeared,” you say, looking up at Rowena. Her brow furrows as she thinks this over. 

“Did you see her die?” She asks. Sam gets you free from the chair and you move to stand quickly. Too quickly. You fall into Sam immediately and he wraps an arm around your waist to support you. 

“No. I just…woke up,” you tell them. You begin to pale and Sam frowns. 

“Alright, let’s get you back in bed,” he says, scooping you up into his arms quickly. You shake your head. 

“No!! We have to get Dean back!!” You protest. Sam starts down the hall and glances back at Rowena. 

“What do we do?” He asks. You groan and lay your head back, closing your eyes. The pain was coming back with a vengeance. 

“This is tricky,” she says, shaking her head. Sam carries you back into the bedroom where Cas is examining Dean. The angel looks up from Dean’s still body and manages a small smile. 

“It’s Y/N?” He asks. You look over at him and nod quickly before your eyes fall to Dean. 

“Rowena, what happened?” You ask as Sam lays you on the bed once again. 

“Could she have jumped to Dean? Could she control two bodies at once like that?” Sam asks, looking at the witch. You force yourself up onto your elbows to watch them. 

“That would take…decades of practice,” she says, shaking her head. 

“She has it!!” You tell them. They all look at you. “She said she’s been doing this for centuries. Jumping from body to body.” You gasp suddenly, remembering. “The book!!” You attempt to force yourself up from the bed but Sam reaches over, stopping you. 

“What about it?” 

“She said it’s the source of her power. Without it, she has nothing,” you explain as you try to sit up. Cas brings Sam another syringe of morphine and you frown at him. “No!! I have to help Dean!!” 

“We’ll figure it out. You can’t even stand right now. Rest,” he tells you, but you shake your head defiantly.  

“Send me back,” you say, looking at Rowena. “You sent Dean in. Now send me.” 

“That’s too risky,” Cas says, frowning.  

“I don’t care about the damn risk!! I have to get Dean back!!” You protest. Sam nods slightly.  

“Okay. Yea. We’ll send you back. Just lay down. Let Rowena get the spell ready,” he says. You watch him for a moment before laying back against the bed once more. Your eyes land on Dean, next to you on the bed. He looks like he’s peacefully sleeping but you can only imagine what she’s doing to him. The slightest pinch in your arm draws your attention quickly. Sam empties the syringe into your arm as you stare in disbelief. 

“You lied.” 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says, rising to his full height. Tears flood your eyes as you feel the drugs taking over once again. “We’ll destroy the book and you’ll both be fine.” 

“I love him, Sam,” you cry. 

“I know,” he says, brushing your hair from your face. “And you can tell him that as soon as you wake up.” He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead as the morphine pulls you under once again.  

***

Some time later, you come to once again, just as confused as the last time. This time you hadn’t been moved. You’re still lying in Dean’s bed only now you have a blanket draped over you and you’re completely alone. Sam, Cas, and Rowena were nowhere to be seen and Dean was no longer next to you. Carefully, you rise to an upright position, wincing only slightly at the pain in your side. A gunshot wound and broken ribs were not a good combination. Forcing your stiff limbs to move, you get your legs over the edge of the bed just as the bedroom door opens. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean asks. You break into a wide smile, and if you could, you’d run and tackle him. 

“You’re okay!!” You proclaim. He laughs as he walks over. 

“I’m always okay. You need to lay back down,” he tells you. Shaking your head quickly, you hold a hand out for him. He takes your hand in his and sits down next to you on the bed. “You need more medicine?” He asks as you lay your head on his shoulder. 

“I don’t want to go back to sleep right now. I’ve been out for long enough,” you say. He laughs lightly and nods before dropping a kiss to the top of your head. 

“It’s good to see you awake,” he says, his voice soft. 

“Could say the same for you,” you tell him. He lets out a small laugh drawing you to look up at him now. “What was it?” 

“She did pretty good. Had me think I woke up just before she finished you off. Guess she wanted to see if I actually could kill you,” he says, his eyes set on some far off point. Taking his face in your hands gently, you pull him back to look at you. 

“Hey. Whatever happened, whatever you did, it wasn’t real, okay? I’m fine,” you tell him, but he shakes his head quickly. 

“I couldn’t do it,” he confesses. “I thought if I knew it wasn’t you, if I knew you were gone, I’d be able to put my feelings aside but…” He trails off and you bite at your lip. “We need to have a talk about that will of yours too because that is too much pressure.” 

“Will?” You ask, eyes widening. Oh God. “You mean…” 

“Arnold showed up. Gave me your letter,” he tells you. Staring at him, your mind races. He read the letter. The letter you’d written at a very dark time, spilling your heart onto paper just for him. 

“You really weren’t supposed to see that,” you mumble. Dean laughs lightly and presses his lips to your forehead. 

“Then maybe you should be a little more careful about what spells you get put under,” he teases. You laugh at this and shake your head. 

“She’s dead, right?” You ask. He nods quickly. 

“Burst into flames right in front of me,” he says. “They burned the book out here, so she…” He makes an exploding motion with his hands, complete with sound effects. You nod your head slightly. “You don’t seem as excited about that as I thought you would?” 

“Nothing feels different. I was hoping I’d be able to feel that this was real, to know she was gone, but…” You’re cut off abruptly by Dean’s lips against yours. It’s a gentle and chaste kiss only lasting long enough to shut you up. 

“That feel real?” He asks. You swallow thickly and nod, unable to speak. That kiss was different from the ones in your dreams. His lips were more chapped than they had been in your mind. There was whiskey on his breath.

“That letter…” You say, trying to refocus your mind from the kiss. “I was in a pretty dark place and…”

“You’re the best part of my life too,” he interjects. “You’re…everything to me.” Your heart swells at his words. It wasn’t much but it was all you needed to hear. You immediately pull him back into another kiss.

This time, neither of you hold back, allowing every ounce of your repressed feelings to come to the surface. Your dreams couldn’t even begin to compare to the way his touch set your skin on fire as his fingers grazed just below your shirt. He leans in closer, an attempt to lay you back on the bed. You let out a soft, pained gasp as you pull away from him.

“Easy,” you mutter, trying to catch your breath. His eyes widen immediately.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. You laugh lightly and shake your head.

“Give me a few weeks to heal up, then you can get carried away,” you tease. He smiles widely before resting his forehead against yours. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says. You press your lips to his once again, softly. Despite the pain emanating from various places on your body, you’d call this moment perfect. You’d even go as far as to say it was…a dream come true.

The End

Thank you so much to everyone who has enjoyed the story!! I hope the ending was satisfying!! A special thanks to everyone below…

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Fool's Errand Pt 6

Part (6) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Bit of a shorter one today, but figured that was better than holding out for another week!

Warnings: reference to previous medical procedures (blood/ needles), wound cleaning, some, uh, tension, child trauma

WC: 2,648

“Still alive up here?” I called warmly as I entered the cockpit. Echo’s helm tipped back to look at me with what I knew to be an unamused stare.

“How’re they doing?” He asked, attention turning back to the viewport. I moved closer to him before answering, sitting lightly on the edge of the copilot’s chair as I set my pack between my feet.

“Tech and Crosshair are still out. I can’t fix Tech’s arm while we’re moving, but I got a chest tube in Hunter.” I didn’t have the strength to hide the exhaustion in my voice, adrenaline finally quelling now that no one was in imminent danger. “Wrecker’s knee still needs to be reduced, but I might have to rig a damn pully system to pop it back into place.” I added with a deep sigh. “The girl will be alright – minor burns here and there, but nothing a little bacta won’t fix… Which just leaves you.” Forcing some feint of strength back into my voice, I tilted my head expectantly toward him.

“Not a whole lot you can do while I’m flying.” He dismissed. “Only have one hand to steer with. What’s the story with the girl?” Ignoring his excuse, I pushed myself back to my feet and walked around the chair to his injured shoulder.

“Not sure yet,” I replied, attention clearly focused on the task before me. “Don’t crash us. They found her where the senator was supposed to be.”

“Doc.” He grumbled, trying to shrug me off.

“Echo.” I retorted in the same tone. “I can get some bacta on the worst of it, at least.” His chest swelled in preparation, I was sure, to voice some further argument, but I cut him off with a sharp look and he let out a deep sigh.

“Apparently,” the conspiratory lilt in my voice offered both distraction and gratitude as I removed his shoulder pauldron, stance carefully widened to better steady myself in the event of sudden turbulence, “she saw Tech and immediately threw herself at him.” The very edges of my lips pulled up in a poorly restrained, knowing grin as Echo’s bucket dropped slightly, breath held lest a barely silenced snort escape him. “He had to carry her all the way to the ship.” I continued, “And I’ll give you one guess who she clung to while he was piloting.”

“Oh no…” He couldn’t fully suppress the threat of laughter from his hushed sigh.

“Yup.” The word popped with that same mirth, pleased to note the ease in his posture as I brought my sheers to his shoulder, snipping quickly through the ruined fabric to better expose the burn beneath.

“Echo…” I couldn’t help the groan in my voice upon seeing the wound, nor the huff that followed at how he pointedly avoided looking away from the viewport. “I swear, if you’re about to say that you’ve had worse….” I interrupted the instant he started to respond, and the silence that followed was more than enough to justify the accusation.

Releasing a tense breath, I stepped away from him a moment to dig back into my bag.

“Want me to numb it?” I offered, voice instantly dropping into a soft murmur. He didn’t answer at first, but I was already readying the medication. He hated burns. He didn’t need to explain why; not with me, and I hoped he was far passed feeling any need to pretend otherwise. When he gave a small nod, I didn’t try to hide my own relief as I returned to his side, hand reaching out to rest lightly on his forearm in some silent show of support or appreciation or some unspoken combination of that and so much more, before touching the autoinjector lightly against the blackened skin.

There were moments in which I hated our armor. I hated the distance it created between us when I so desperately wanted to offer the comfort of a gentle touch. I hated the harsh veneer it forced upon the brilliant, kind-hearted people within; hated how it sought to rob them of their individuality in the Kaminoan’s endeavor toward perfect, unthinking uniformity, but in that moment, I was grateful for it. I was grateful because it granted the man before me a mask to hide behind that he might be free to let his face twist in full display of the pain suffered beneath my ministrations. I longed for him to feel no need for such a façade with me but wasn’t so naïve as to feign otherwise, and his comfort was of far greater importance than my pride.

“I’m going to try to get under your rerebrace a bit.” I warned, already shifting the plastoid tube awkwardly down his arm just enough to reach the edges of marred skin. He offered neither argument nor consent, attention locked on controlling the ship absent what wretched distraction my actions caused, but I could feel the full breadth of tension coiled through his toned body, could see the powerful muscles about his shoulder flex, steering column of the ship groaning beneath his iron grip. I didn’t bother voicing another warning as I did the same with his chest plate, carefully cleaning away the layer of charred, dead skin before smearing the raw flesh beneath with that soothing, blue gel.

“Almost done.” I promised quietly, movements far more delicate now as I slipped a bandage over the wound, eager to keep the edges of his armor from grating against it. My hand lingered for a moment longer, palm spread atop the sterile fabric gleaming stark white against the darkness of his ruined blacks, fingers spread just enough for my thumb to feel the heat radiating from his chest, to catch the steady thrumming of his heart.

He'd barely made a sound when he’d been hit; had played it off so effortlessly in the exhausting hours that followed of helping me drag Hunter through those endless corridors while taking out however many dozens of droids tried to stop us, voicing no hint of complaint or hesitation. I hated the feeling of admiration just as much as I hated how desperately worried for him it made me.

His helm shifted ever so slightly, gaze dropping toward that soft touch for several seconds before lifting just enough that I was sure he was looking at me, and I felt my eyes turn toward him as though no opaque visor lay between us, as though I could see the pale gold of eyes that had known far too much pain; eyes that I longed only to see shining with carefree bliss as they had when we floated in the crystalline pools of Deveron, before the chaos of my brother’s death and the confusion of everything that followed.

The subtle rhythm dancing beneath my thumb quickened, breath shallowing as he suddenly went still, and in that moment, those long weeks of silence vanished. I remembered the first time I’d heard him laugh – truly laugh – back when I was a stranger, a threat, who’d trapped him into trusting me before revealing how that trap had backfired and asking for his help after all. I remembered the safety I’d felt from his presence after being attacked by that mercenary Sergeant. I remembered holding him as he trembled with the afterimage of nightmares I couldn’t imagine, and I remembered how he’d held me in the wake of losing myself to a grief that nearly broke me after losing my brother.

Echo was the first one among this squad to give me a chance, the first I truly considered to be my friend. The weight pressing against my heart from how ruthlessly I’d pushed us apart crippled me, fingers subtly tightening in some subconscious plea to keep him near me, if only for what few seconds of quiet might be stolen in the too-short flight back to the Marauder, and the way his body seemed to turn toward me, to lean into that touch with the same selfish, impossible want left my breath shuttering slightly with promises and apologies and whispers that could never be granted voice.

“Doc!” My head jerked up at Wrecker’s hushed shout, chest bucking with a sharp gasp. Swallowing back the swell of emotion still lingering just on the verge of breaking through, I snatched his pauldron and quickly began reattaching it to his shoulder.

“Try not to move it too much for at least a couple hours.” I ordered, already dashing around him to grab my bag. “And drink some damn water, or I’ll shove an IV in you, too!” The added threat thrown over my shoulder was made in jest if only to feign some useless façade of ignorance to the tension yet lingering in his silence.

“Wrecker?” I called breathlessly as I raced back into the cabin, still trying to convince myself that my heart was racing solely from fear that he’d summoned me because of some imminent medical disaster. The towering clone only briefly met my eyes before nodding toward one of the seats beside him, and I followed his gaze to see the cowering figure of the small girl curled into the crash cough, tiny fingers trembling as they locked around the oversized harness strapped all around her.

Lips parting with a small gasp, I quickly went still, hands slowly raising, body automatically lowering to a knee. Bright, green eyes darted around, pupils dark and blown with a fear I knew too well.

“Hey, sweetie.” I murmured, voice as gentle and soothing as I could manage. “I know you’re scared, but I promise you: no one here is going to hurt you.” Those eyes darted from me to the still unconscious form of Crosshair across the aisle and then to Wrecker before returning to me. “That’s Crosshair,” I told her quietly, “He got bumped around a bit, just like you, but he’ll be alright, and the big guy behind you is his brother, Wrecker – he gives the best hugs you’ve ever felt!” Wrecker offered a tentative smile as she peaked nervously toward him. “I think you already met their other brother, Tech.” I added, pointing, and I felt myself smile at the flash of familiarity that washed over her upon following my gesture. After telling mine and Hunter’s names, I took a small step forward, relieved that she didn’t balk at my advance.

“I bet those burns don’t feel very good.” My heart broke at the way her chin quivered slightly, head shaking as her arms pulled even tighter against her chest. “I have something that’ll help. I promise, it won’t hurt.” I added warmly, movements slow as I pulled a tube of bacta from my bag. Recognition lit in those shockingly expressive eyes and, without further prompting, stretched a leg out toward me. My breath caught in a quiet chuckle as I pushed myself up and crossed the few meters between us.

“No change with the others?” I asked Wrecker as I kneeled before the girl. He merely shook his head. Hunter and Tech, I expected little improvement from, but I didn’t like how long it was taking Crosshair to wake up. Resolving to check on him soon, I turned my attention back to the child.

“The place we found you was pretty scary. Do you remember how to you got there?” I asked. She watched carefully as I smeared some of the bacta onto my fingertips before gently dabbing it onto one of the larger burns on her shin, lips still pressed firmly together. “That’s okay,” I reassured her, worried that the memories might be too much for her to willingly talk about. “How about your name? Can you tell me your name?” After several more seconds of silence, I paused attention shifting from her dappled legs to those piercing eyes.

“She wouldn’t tell Tech, either.” Wrecker whispered. I tried not to let my uncertainty show, forcing my expression back into a warm smile before moving on to another patch of burnt skin.

“You know… we were looking for someone when Tech and Wrecker found you.” I said, voice dropping into a whisper as though it were some great secret, and her attention instantly shifted back to me expectantly. “He’s this really special Senator. Maybe you’ve heard of him?” I shot Wrecker a pleading look, cursing myself for not paying more attention to the man’s name.

“Uh, yeah; real special. Gno.” He stammered slightly, belatedly realizing what I was asking. A sharp gasp caught in the girl’s throat, her fear forgotten as she sat upright, hopeful gaze darting between us.

“Looks like you know him?” I teased, and she nodded so violently, the safety harness jangled around her. It wasn’t a huge jump to guess how, but I voiced the theory regardless. “Is he your dad?” Again, she nodded, lips parted around excited breaths, but, still, she made no effort to speak. I had to fight to quell the nervous dread stirring in my gut. Why had they taken the girl? Had they accidentally left her father behind in that abhorrent maze of underground tunnels? If they had, he’d be impossible to retrieve now…

“Was he down there with you?” I asked, pointedly ignoring the way Wrecker’s gaze had already darkened with the same theory. The girl paused before giving a halting nod, but then she shook her head and pointed up. My head automatically twisted to follow her gesture, but Wrecker didn’t miss a beat.

“They took ‘im away in a ship?” She looked at him for a long moment before nodding, and I couldn’t decide if I should be relieved or even more hopeless toward the prospect of him ever being found. “Maybe Tech can track ‘em. Doubt there’s a whole lot of folks coming and goin’ from that place.” I flashed him a brief smile before turning my attention back to the girl.

“We’ll just have to ask him when he wakes up.” I said as I finished the last spot on her leg. “Are you hungry? I bet they didn’t have anything tasty to eat down there.” The pleading look in her eyes made my heart twist, and I quickly reached back into my bag for ration bars and offered her a few different kinds. “Choose whichever color you like.��� She bit her lips in that undeniably innocent display of childhood excitement as she reached for one. After helping her open it, I tossed another bar to Wrecker with a knowing grin.

“Alright, let’s see what’s going on with Mr Tall, Dark, and Grumpy.” I said, smiling reassuringly to the child.

Crosshair still hadn’t moved, and I couldn’t ignore the growing unease gnawing at my chest as I approached him, teeth absently nipping at the inside of my lip. I’d just begun reaching for his helmet when it suddenly shifted toward me, and I couldn’t silence the sharp gasp that tore from my throat nor the way my body jumped as my heart nearly leapt from my chest. His head shifted slightly in that mocking, judgmental tilt that instantly drew my lips back into a snarl.

“You kriffing-”

“Ah.” He interrupted, and I could hear the smirk in his raspy voice, “language.” The smug, chastising lilt drew several more curses to my tongue that I pointedly bit back, and his shoulders danced beneath a silent laughter. I tugged his bucket off with a touch more force than was necessary, treasuring the flash of annoyance in those sharp eyes.

“Look who’s awake!” I called over my shoulder, smile returning to my lips as his jaw tensed with understanding before I turned to see the girl watching us from across the cabin. “If you’d like, I bet Crosshair would love to keep you company for the trip.” I offered, and I had to bite back laughter of my own at the quiet grumble that caught in his throat.

Next Chapter

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[in1-nutshell]

I wonder what would the Maxima being a prime stuff but with the other scenario

Where instead of Smokescreen saving Optimus, it was Maxima

I got to start making more comfort for our girl here...

Anyways!

Hope you enjoy!

Maxima becoming Maximum Prime (Altern. Version)

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Angst, Mention of character death (its Prime but he always comes back) Cybertronian reader

TFP

Everything was happening too fast.

Too sudden.

It seemed as if Maxima had just returned from a peaceful patrol and was now told to evacuate the only other home on this planet.

But it was happening and there wasn’t anything she could do to stop it.

The only thing she could really do now was help ease the process for the younger members of the team and try and keep morale up.

Maxima gently placing Miko into Bulkhead’s alt mode. She was the last of the children to go. Miko: “You guys will be okay, right?” Maxima forcing a sad smile: “We’ll be fine Miko.” Miko: “…Okay, you better be. If not I’ll punch your lights out!” Maxima: “I don’t doubt it.” Maxima taking a shaky vent and holds out her digit so Miko could shake it. With that Bulkhead drives away. Maxima catching Smokescreen sneaking off and grabs his doorwing: “Your next Smokes.” Smokescreen grumbles a bit after getting caught. Maxima pats his shoulder and watches him go off through the groundbridge.

As soon as it was Ratchet’s turn though, the tears started escaping as she embraced the older medic tightly.

No one knew what was going to happen…

If this was her last time seeing him... she was going to make the most out of it.

Soon enough it was just her and Optimus.

Once the coordinates were set and the groundbridge whirled to life for one last go, the dam broke.

She clung onto her father so tightly, she was sure she had created new dents in both their armors.

Optimus immediately responded and hugged her back with almost the same tightness.

Maxima wanted to say something, anything to change his mind about going with her.

But she had gotten her stubbornness from somewhere and it wasn’t just Ratchet or Megatron.

With one last squeeze, she quickly transformed and sped into the bridge.

She had to do it quickly, if not she would have turned back.

Once through Maxima began to look around at her surroundings.

It took a couple of minutes to realize that this had been one of her patrol routes near the base.

She could still make it!

…All those happy thoughts however died the moment she saw a great explosion in the direction of the base.

Maxima didn’t remember screaming for him.

Nor when she transformed and drove straight into the wreckage of her home.

She did remember the moment she saw her father’s battered frame in the rubble of the base.

Maxima with wide optics and tears: “DAD!” She scurries over to him getting as much debris as she can and pulls him to a ‘cleaner area of the wreckage. She looks over at his wounds. Maxima forcing a smile: “It looks bad… but I can fix it! Just wait, I’m sure there’s some tools around!” Optimus: “…Maxima…” Maxima holding his servo: “Don’t talk, save your energy. Now if I can just remember where I put the spare tools—” Optimus: “Maxima…” Maxima holding the servo tighter as more tears start escaping: “I know I can-can find ‘em! Just hold on for a second—” POP! Optimus had opened his chassis presenting the Matrix of Leadership. Maxima is in shock. Optimus: “I… know how you feel about the Matrix… but now the team needs a leader.” Maxima: “That’s why I’m going to fix you!” Optimus coughing roughly: “My time with the Allspark is almost here… Maxima…” Optimus tries to raise his servo to her faceplate. She grabs it and presses it on her. He gently strokes one of his digits to wipe a tear. Optimus: “Do not cry for me… be our light in our… darkest… hour…” The servo started going limp. Maxima: “Optimus? Optimus!” She starts shaking his shoulders, panic settling in faster seeing his frame starting to turn grey. Maxima: “Dad! DAD! PLEASE DON’T GO! DAD PLEASE!... please… don’t leave me…”

Maxima hurriedly turns to the Matrix seeing it floating closer and closer to her chassis.

She grabs at the limp servo and quietly opens her chassis and closed her optics one last time as Maxima.

Maximum Prime opened her optics for the first time and saw the greying frame of the former Prime before her.

She began to stand up when she noticed the Forge of Solus Prime in the wreckage.

An idea popped in her helm.

Orion Pax opened his optics groaning. He looks up to see a tall bot that eerily looked like his sparkling. Orion: “Where am I? What is going on? Where is Maxima?” Maximum Prime gently places a servo on his shoulders giving him a kind smile. Maximum: “It has been a long time Orion Pax. I promise to tell you everything in time, but we must find our missing comrades before Megatron does.” Orion: “Megatron? Like Megatronus?” Maximum holding out her servo: “It is a long story Pax.” Orion grabbing her servo as they maneuver their way through the wreckage and finally to the desert. Orion: “I am rather fond of stories.” Maximum: “…This story starts with an abandoned sparkling and a friendly archivist…”

[bump1nthen1ght]

All the better to eat you with (Werewolf x M!Reader)

Pairing: Male!Werewolf x Male!Reader

Warnings: Dubious Consent, Explicit Content ahead (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 2004 words

Summary: You're walking the familiar path to grandma's house, when a friendly stranger offers you some protection. Unbeknownst to you, everything comes with a price.

Request: Can i request for a werewolf x male reader with knotting and breeding kink please? And can you like maybe make it base of the little red riding hood? Thank so much in advance bye!

“Y’know, red is a really good color on you.”

The stranger remarks, holding up the bottom of your red riding cloak. His voice is almost a purr, that lascivious smile on his face only a little bit off-putting.

“T-thanks, this is one of my favorites.” You brush off some imaginary dust from the cloak, feeling bashful under his undivided attention. “I have a blue one as well, but this used to be my older brother’s so…it’s kind of sentimental.”

The stranger smiles again, that genuine and unnerving kind.

“Well, I love it. I think red might be your signature color.”

The stranger throws a large arm over you shoulder, pulling you to his side as you walk. You nearly yelp st the sheer force, noticing just how tall he is; When standing right next to each other, you barely each his shoulder.

“Yeah, m-me too.”

—

Your mother had told you that there were dangerous things in the woods, but the stranger didn’t seem to be one of them. Even with his wide, wild eyes and his far-too big grin, he had offered to accompany you on the long journey to your grandmothers house. You had politely declined at first, you were a grown man and walked this path plenty of times before, but he had insisted. Not in a creepy way more like a…naive gentlemanly way.

You had given the stranger your name, to which he nodded and said you had a great name. He didn’t give you his, you didn’t press it.

He was enthusiastically touchy, talking your ear off with questions about your life and the food you had brought with you. He was an apt listener, his big yellow eyes never straying from your face as you talked. It was kind of nice, if only a little disconcerting.

So here you are, still by his side and only a mile left to your grandmother’s house. The sun was in the beginning stages of setting, but you would likely get to her home before dark. Even if not, the strong stranger gave you some comfort. He was built like an ox, with strong shoulders and a barrel chest. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t caught yourself staring at his figure a couple times. But hey, when he’s only wearing a tight undershirt, how could you not stare?

“We’re around 20 minutes away. Thanks again for walking me all the way here. I normally don’t mind walking alone but..this was quite nice.” You blush, trying to not let it show.

“Oh, it’s no problem! It wouldn’t be right if I had left a cute thing like yourself to fend by yourself.” He winks. “There are dangerous things in these woods, y’know. Things that would snatch you up in an instant.” He leans in close as he says that, his voice low and flirtatious.

You feel the hot blush across your face heat up even more. The stranger had been quite familiar this whole time, but never this direct. Maybe your stares weren’t so one-sided after all.

“Well, I guess I’m very lucky to have bumped into you, my knight in shining armor.” You chuckle, trying to match his coy way of flirting. It makes him laugh, but his wide eyes still stare you down, feasting on your entire body. “I’m sure my grandma would appreciate it too. Would you like to join us for dinner? She always has the best tea and biscuits.”

There's that cackling laugh again, all wheezes and smirks. His eyes crinkle up at the thought and you’re afraid he’s rejecting you, before he pats you on the shoulder. “I’ve never been invited in before! How sweet of you, little one, to offer someone like me inside.” He stops walking, the hand on your shoulder pulling you right alongside him. He turns you so you face directly towards him. His eyes are still lit up with that friendliness, his smile even wider, but there's something underneath it all. It’s something desperate, something knowing, something starved.

The stranger squeezes your shoulders together, making you wince a bit. His teeth seem whiter in the setting sun, larger, sharper. “Maybe next time, little red. But I think tonight I’m hungry for something else.” His voice purrs, his head cocking as he winks.

Before you can even suggest your grandmother make something else for dinner, he has you shoved up against the tree, your bodies moving faster than you thought possible. Your yelp is suffocated by his kiss, overwhelming and passionate. His large hands stop pinning your shoulders and instead wrap around your jaw, his large body now pressed against you and weighing you down. The moan you let out is downright pitiful and the stranger gobbles it up like a three-course meal. One of his hands moves down to caress your side, wandering down until he reaches your butt and squeezes. You yelp again, the stranger snickering into your mouth.

The stranger pulls away, saliva dripping from his lips as he forgets your head to the side so he can suck at your neck. Your hands claw up his back for purchase, too shell shocked to even speak. The stranger likes the feeling, like the feign of resistance, and growls into your neck.

“So perfect for me. So fucking perfect.” He laps and sucks at your jugular, nipping the skin around your jaw with desperation. You try to form words, but the breathe is knocked out of your when the sizable bulge in his trouser rubs against yours. He growls again, his hand squeezing your ass as he grinds into your crotch. You cant your hips upward, meeting the pleasure. The stranger chuckles. “Such a submissive little mate, so sweet for me.”

He hikes up one of your legs over his hip, grinding more fervently as he laps your skin. His warm drool drips down your neck, making your skin tingle. You moan again, digging your nails deeper into his back. The pain seems to make him more voracious, cackling as you scratch lines into his back.

The stranger finally moves back up to your mouth, trapping you in another hungry kiss.

“Say my name.” He orders, that crazed look still in his eyes.

“Oh..uh-” He barely lets you get out the question, forcing you into another kiss. When you get the chance to breathe, you mutter “I don’t-”

“It’s Mac.”

You nod your head, closing your eyes when he grinds against you. Biting your lip, you whisper, “M-Mac. That feels good.”

He finally pulls away from your mouth with a deranged smile, licking his chops.

“Perfect.”

Just like that he throws you to the ground, laying himself across you as he fiddles with your belt buckle. This has all been so overwhelming, so sudden, but you can’t say you hate it. Mac has got your blood searing, your cock raging hard.

Mac’s breath is heaving, was he always that hairy? On the ground, he almost seems bigger, impossibly so. He pants, a long tongue hanging out with his mouth. My…what big teeth he has.

You hear a shing, as if a blade was being unsheathed, then your pants are ripped open. Mac is pawing and tearing the fabric, sharp black claws cutting through like scissors. His eyes glow in the setting sun. What’s that on top of his head?

“I’m going to make you mine.” He mutters, sucking on two of his long fingers.

“What-” but you can’t even finish the sentence, Mac easing two of his fingers right into your asshole. Your cock jerks and your hips instinctually shove backward at the intrusion, but Mac keeps a firm grip to keep you in place. He sets a brutal pace, stretching you open with a fervor. You can’t even catch your breath, can’t even speak. His tongue lolls out of his mouth as he looks at you, a heavy blush darkening his cheeks as he admires you.

“Have to prepare you…so small, so fragile. So good for me.”

Another gasp as you feel his fingers grow larger inside you. How is that even possible? You throw your head back, covering your eyes to hide from the pleasure. All you can hear is Mac panting, the schlick of his slobbery fingers as they fuck you. But then there's more fabric tearing, no, bursting at the seams. You force your delirious eyes upward, your heart stopping.

Above you is Mac, but he isn’t human anymore. The long tongue now hangs out a muzzle full of sharp canines. His undershirt lays ruined to the side, not able to contain the extra muscle and fur of the beast above you. No, the wolf above you.

“That's good enough.”

Before you can get a word in, Mac is yanking his fingers out and folding your legs backwards toward your face. You can’t feel the burn amidst all the sensation, only noticing a jingle as Mac undoes his belt buckle, pulling out his large cock.

All you can do is moan, bend to his will. Mac smiles, that same wicked smile.

“I’m gonna breed you, mate.”

And without another word, he shoves his cock deep inside you, stealing the air right out of your chest. Your nails caked in dirt as you dig them into the ground, biting your lip until blood is drawn.

It’s too much, too much-it’s too good.

Mac pants, his mad eyes burning deep into your skin. A clawed paw reaches down and grabs your jaw, yanking you to look at him. Drool drips from his jaw and onto your chest, his tail wagging desperately behind him.

“Look at me, look at me.” He keels and whines, swiveling his hips against yours. The crack of shock that rubs up your spine makes you moan, which Mac laps up like its the sweetest treat. “Ugh, you’re gonna take my knot so well. I know it, I know it.”

All you can do is nod your head, your dirt-caked fingers finding purchase in his fur. He lets you yank him closer, the warmth of his chest a contrast to the wet dirt beneath you.

When Mac thrusts in earnest, you swear you lose feeling in your legs. But even so your ankles hook around his shoulders, pulling him in for more and more. Your cock weeps precum, burning and begging to be touched. But Mac is a wolf on a mission, chasing his own high with delighted barks. He keeps that firm grip around your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek with a shocking sweetness. Mac never closes his eyes, content to watch you come undone under him, watch the way he wrecks you.

The slap of skin-on-skin and your heavy pants rings in your ears. You pray your grandma hadn’t wondered if you got lost and came to find you, because the sight of you was surely filthy. But with your cock twitching and a ferociously handsome wolf on top of you, it’s becoming harder and harder to care.

You can feel Mac’s dick throb inside you, a distinct whine coming from his chest. He claws his grip into the ground, his ears twitching as he looks down at you.

“Yes, here it comes. Take it, take it.”

You’re not sure what it is, but there is no way you’re not taking it. Your hips jerk as the rubber band reaches its most taut, your orgasm so, so close.

“F-fuck, fuck!” You moan, yanking and tugging on Mac’s chest fur as you explode into climax, cum spurting all across your stomach. With a final thrust, Mac shoves his hips into you and throws his head back into a howl, a warmth expanding inside you.

This must be it.

You ponder, letting out an ‘oof’ as Mac collapses on top of you. Still inside you, he nuzzles his muzzle into your neck, his hands gently rubbing your sore hips and thighs.

“So good for me.” He pants, licking up your throat with half-kisses. “My sweet little red.”

[risingsoleil]

Lin attending an event not as the chief but as tenzin’s wife? The First Lady of the air nation and mother of airbenders

(I’m sure those titles annoy her and I think it’s funny)

You have no idea how often I've been thinking about this before you sent this!! ~~ 😍😍😍

It's a fundraiser a SWT society club is continue its programs, notably its exchange programs for SWT youth to visit Republic City.

In honor of Tenzin's heritage, Lin secretly buys a dress specifically for him...and of course, the other attendees of this event.

As soon as Lin steps out of the closet, Tenzin's jaw drops and his face heats up. A dark blue one-shoulder mermaid dress. The lower part of the skirt was a glamorous take of traditional SWT patterns with sky blue and white stitching + pearls.

Lin's hair and make-up is already done, a darker rouge and light smokey eyeshadows for a sultry and seductive appearance. Her hair is done in a low bun with a side part, rather than the middle part. She pinned several white orchids along the side of her bun.

"What do you think?" Lin spun slowly, hands gliding across her hips.

Tenzin blinked, loosening his collar and unbuttoning his mantle. "I think we should skip the event."

Lin shook her head and avoided him. "No, I spent a great deal on looking good for tonight. I don't want it to be wasted on only you seeing it."

"A waste? Honey, I should be the only one seeing you like this. Now just stand still while I undress you."

"Don't you want your wife to look good at an event?"

"Of course I do. But I just want you all to myself right now....for tonight...forever."

Lin rolled her eyes and approached Tenzin. She adjusted his mantle so it sat perfectly, then she buttoned it. "You can have me when we come home. I promise I won't resist in any way."

Tenzin grinned, hands on her hips. "You won't?"

"Nope. I'll let you devour me any way you want," Lin murmured, standing on her tip toes and pecking her lips softly against his.

"Alright, then let's go so I can show off how gorgeous my wife is."

-----------------

As soon as they entered the venue, all eyes shot to the couple.

Actually, they were staring at Lin Beifong.

Though Lin obviously wore clothes other than her armor, many were not used to seeing a glamorous Lin Beifong gracing the world. Tenzin felt a huge wave of pride that he was the one escorting her and that he was the one Lin called her "husband."

Flashes from the press almost blind them. Lin and Tenzin allow them a few photos before venturing further inside.

Compliments flow from every direction, some people with genuine wonder and others trying to kiss her ass.

"Oh, Chief Beifong. You look wonderful! A true First Lady of the Air Nation and mother of the next generation of airbenders!"

Lin does her best to not roll her eyes or raise the ground beneath them. Why do they always have to mention "First Lady" crap? Or "Mother of the Air Nation" shit? She's just a woman who married an airbender. Big whoop.

All the formalities are exchanged and dinner is served. Lin and Tenzin are seated with some other members who are well-known in the community. It's...alright. But Tenzin knows that men are looking at her.

A live band is playing for entertainment and to set the ambiance for the evening.

Tenzin grasps Lin's hand and kisses it. The affection surprises Lin since they're still seated and they've always kept PDA at a minimal at these kinds of things.

He stands, without releasing her hand. "Come dance with me, love."

Though Lin still feels a bit intimidating to others, she's blushing and bows her head to the table. Everyone is soaking in every interaction they are showing, and Lin knows this will be part of the gossip train. Possibly front news too. Who knows?

"Alright." Lin stands. "Excuse us then."

Tenzin leads her to the dance floor, his hand already slinking to her waist. They can feel the burning of stares from other people and the whispers from all over the room. He pulls her closer so that her hips bump into his.

"This isn't a date, Tenzin," Lin whispers as they find themselves on the dance floor.

Taking one hand in his and placing his other around Lin's waist, he pulls her almost flush to his body. Tenzin leans closer. "I know, but we hardly have any time for date nights...we have our kids, then Korra is always stirring up trouble..."

"Mhm," Lin hums as they waltz and spin gracefully beneath the chandelier lights.

"I figured why not combine tonight's event into a date night?" Tenzin's eyes gloss down to Lin's breasts. "Especially when you look ravishing."

"Control yourself. Or should I be worried that you'll fuck me right here on the dance floor so we can end up on the news?"

Tenzin dipped her slowly. Lin could feel his breath close to her neck. "You just say the word, love, and I'll carry you out of here."

A chuckle. "Do you think you'd be able to last that long? Why not just fuck me in the powder room?"

"I can do that, too."

Lin clicks her tongue, and Tenzin raises her back up. He pulls her closer and kisses her knuckles before beginning the dance again.

"Everyone is looking at us, Tenz..." she whispers.

"No, they're looking at you." He kisses her forehead. "Just like me."

The slow dance ends, and a more upbeat song begins. One of their favorites.

"Tenz, do you...?"

"Our song when we were teenagers," he finishes with a smile.

"Dance with me properly for this song, and I'll indulge you."

Tenzin laughs. "Deal."

To everyone's surprise, while they dance to the beat and melody, Tenzin uses his airbending to lift himself and Lin. Like leaves dancing with the wind. Lin giggles, holding on to her husband anytime her feet lift up from the floor. Soon, both are laughing together with joy, memories, love, and lust.

Photographers capture their happy dance. One shot is taken of them staring at each other with the deepest love in their eyes as they're elevating above the ground.

That photo ends up on the front cover.