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strawberrypoundtown · 3 months

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Bullheaded

Bruce Soli x Witch!Reader

Your best friend talks to you about an issue he's been dealing with, hoping to maybe get some magical assistance from you. However, his issue evolves into something much bigger when he asks for some physical help too...

(This was technically supposed to be finished in time for 400 followers, but you guys are way too fast for me 🥲 we're already past 450 and I couldn't be more grateful 😭 i hope you guys enjoy this! This guy is part of a collaboration project between me, @the-witches-creatures (Ari and Bloom belong to her) and @silken-moonlight and I hope you enjoy! This took a lot longer than I wanted it to, and once again, I made it way too long lol I apologize for such a large gap between my posts, as I am currently still a busy college student, but I'm trying my best! I hope the quality makes up for it lol enjoy the show!)

Contains: size kink, weed use, oral sex, fingering, unprotected sex, boob job, loss of virginity, breeding kink, pregnancy risk, bulging, a lot of cum

"SON OF A BITCH!!" You heard Bruce suddenly bellow from his room angrily, followed by a loud crash. A long sigh escaped your lips as you broke your meditation and got up. It was a full moon. He knew not to disturb you when you were meditating, especially during the full moon. You got up with a huff and stomped over to his bedroom, throwing the huge heavy door open with the assistance of your magic.

"What the fuck do you want?! You know I need SILENCE during a full moon, you fucking dickhead!" You yelled at him. You were the only one that could talk to him like that without getting put in the hospital. You crossed your arms and furrowed your brow, ensuring he knew how pissed off you were. This shit always happened during the full moon. You saw him with his phone in pieces on the floor between his legs. He was sitting on the edge of his giant bed, tugging on his ears as he groaned in anger.

"Fuck you, bitch! I don't need your fucking attitude right now!" He yelled as he turned to you. Getting a better look at his eyes, they looked red and the fur under his eyes were wet from tears. However, the strange thing was that it didn't look like it was because he took too hard of a rip like you usually found him. In fact, his bong was completely untouched so far tonight from the looks of it. Your anger dissipated slightly as you looked at him. Sure he was a dickhead, but if something was really wrong, you did want to help.

"What's going on then? Why are you being an asshole?" You ask, scoffing a bit as you rolled your eyes. You knew jumping into feelings right away in conversations would go nowhere. You learned from experience.

"I'm not fucking trying to be!" He tugs at his ears again before burying his face in his hands. He grunts softly with each breath as he tries to calm down. He didn't want to be the cause of another noise complaint if he wasn't already. "Go back to your shit. I want to be alone and smoke." He grumbled as he went to open his stash box next to his bong on his bedside table. You let out a long sigh before walking over, literally jumping onto his bed because it's much taller than yours. He scoffs as he watches you in the corner of his eye, but doesn't tell you to leave. You liked to think that he liked having you around. At least a little bit.

As he absent-mindedly packed a bowl, his mind wandered. He had planned on going out to meet with a lady werewolf who needed help during the full moon, but he had gotten ghosted once again. As soon as he told her how big he was, she said she couldn't do it and didn't respond to his texts after that. That's why his phone was broken. He was so frustrated with this happening and had no idea what to do. Even other minotaurs didn't want him. Because of his temper and his size, most people couldn't handle him.

You could, though. A human witch. Although he found your presence annoying at the beginning of your friendship, he had grown to deeply care for you. You were always there, whether he wanted you there or not.

"Hey idiot." You say as you waved your hand in front of him to get his attention. He snaps back from his thoughts and looks down at you. "What's going on?" You ask with genuine concern. Concern for him. Concern you had shown him whenever he opened up to you. But he was frustrated that he had distracted you from what you were doing and didn't want to bother you. He stayed silent as he just stared at you for a moment, internally screaming out of guilt.

He didn't really understand much about your practice, but he knew the full moon was important for you, and you needed it to be as quiet as possible in the apartment. Usually, he'd be able to go out and practice with the band, but they were all busy. He figured that going out and hopefully getting laid for real for the first time would kill two birds with one stone.

That's right, folks, Bruce is a virgin. It wasn't from lack of trying, but everyone he had tried to sleep with found him to be way too big. No matter the monster, he was always left blue-balled and frustrated in more ways than one. It didn't help that you were always around. You always smelled so good. Poor guy couldn't even get any peace in his own room. The whole apartment smelled like you, even when you weren't around. It drove him crazy.

All of a sudden, his phone, now intact, plopped into his lap, and he once again snapped back to reality. He picked it up and looked it over before staring back at you. Why were you so nice to him when he treated you like shit? You always called him your best friend, but that statement made him sad in many ways. You deserved someone better to hold that title. He also wished he had a different title, but knew he deserved that one even less.

"There. I can perform a durability spell on it tonight if you want? It'll be extra strong since it's a full moon. I don't want to have to keep repairing it all the time." You said with a soft laugh, and he just nodded in response with a faint grunt. He could listen to your laugh for hours. You leaned in close to him and placed a hand on his thigh as you reached over, grabbing his phone from his hand. You used his leg to help yourself hop off the bed, and you smiled up at him. "Go ahead and smoke a bowl while I go do this, drama queen. It won't take long. Make yourself useful and pack me a bowl for when I get back too." You pat his thigh before walking out of his room, leaving him alone to his thoughts. The sensation of your hand on his thigh lingered for a moment after you left and he gently put his hand over top of where yours was. As touch starved as he is, he never tried to touch you. He was too worried about hurting you, as he had been too rough with you early on in your friendship and caused some pretty bad bruises. God he wanted to hold you though. He wanted you all to himself.

He slammed his palm into his forehead with a grunt before angrily grabbing his bong and his torch lighter. He needed to smoke. He couldn't keep thinking like that. He knew you deserved a kind, gentle guy. He wasn't kind or gentle. He was harsh. Hurtful. Harmful. That's how you got stuck with him in the first place.

He had recently transferred to your school halfway through senior year of high school. He had been expelled from his last school, and his grandma had contacted the school to see if anyone could keep an eye on him. When they were briefed on his temper and his size, the school administrators invited you to take on the role.

You were a bit of an outcast in your school, despite being surrounded by odd, magical creatures and fellow magic users. You often studied alone and in silence. You would perform unauthorized spell experiments during class, damaging things so you could repair them, and didn't talk to people unless spoken to. This led to people avoiding you, finding you odd or creepy.

So when you said you'd keep an eye on Bruce, they were surprised how quickly you agreed. To say he was shocked at your immediate yes after meeting him was an understatement. He had point blank told you that there was no way he was going to have a babysitter at school, much less a tiny human. Without a word, you used your magic to turn him into a large frog and told the administrators you agreed. He turned back. Eventually.

After that, you two were basically glued together. You got good grades, so you went out of your way to make sure he was caught up with the material. You always tried to help him the best you could, even if he was abrasive towards you. You knew from his Nonna that he actually seemed to have a soft spot for you, despite his protesting. You learned from her how to handle a lot of his outbursts. How his tempermental ass was related to such a sweetheart was a mystery to you.

You also had never told Bruce, but you had a huge thing for big monster guys. It was a big reason why you had said yes to keeping an eye on him. Or at least a huge bonus. The main reason was when you saw all the scars on his arms and face. You wanted to find out more about him, and it seemed like if you didn't take him, nobody else would have.

You heard the bubbling of his bong and the lighting of his torch as you finished up the spell on his phone in your room. It shouldn't break now. At least you had hoped not. Durability spells worked better on larger objects. The bigger it was, the harder it was to break. He had broken a few phones and bongs despite them being protected by your magic. He hadn't typically broken anything bigger than one of his large plates after you put the spell on all his things. However, even though his phone was the size of a tablet for you, it was still too small to be fully protected by the spell.

You let out a soft sigh and thought about all the nights you had thought about casting it on yourself. It was just a simple sigil, followed by a phrase you had made shortly after you had met Bruce. Once you had it mastered and tailored it to Bruce's strength, you slapped that thing on everything he would come in contact with that he used everyday. You just had to draw it on his stuff or carve it in if you wanted it to be extra strong. You had even considered finding a fellow magic user to tattoo it on you due to your... romantic interests.

You would have never admitted it to his face, but from the moment you saw him, you thought he was cute. What can you say? You like a big guy you could tame. You like an experiment. He was a giant, angry bull, and you wanted to ride him. You still did. But you knew his reputation. He never showed any interest in you and only saw you as a friend from your perspective. He had been with a lot of other people over the years, always busy on the weekends and late at night. As you walked back into his room with his phone, he was in the middle of rolling one of his giant joints.

"Really? Those things are massive. They make me feel like I'm sucking on a tail pipe." You groaned as you jumped onto his bed and crawled over to him. He rolled his eyes and scoffed, trying not to let his eyes wander as he watched you out of the corner of his eyes. The sight of you crawling onto his bed was something he enjoyed a lot more than he should.

"You're so fucking dramatic. This is for me. I already packed you a bowl for your bong, princess." He said with a small smirk tugging at his lips. He brought joint up to his lips, lighting it and inhaling. You suddenly snatched the joint from his lips, smirking as you brought to your own. "You couldn't handle this stuff. It's a special strength for bigger monsters like me." He softly grumbles, exhaling the smoke through his nostrils and into your face, rattling his septum ring.

"Oh yeah?" You jumped up on his bed and grabbed one of his horns with a giggle. You use his horn to tug his head closer to yours, purring into his ear teasingly. "I can handle more than you think."

"Fuck... don't do that..." He hissed through grit teeth. His voice dripped in an unfamiliar tone as he spoke. You felt your face flush as you quickly let go of his horn. His eyes snapped to look at you, and you felt a bit of fear for a moment. But when you read the look in his eyes, your heart started to pound. You hadn't seen him make that look before.

Lust.

"I-I'm sorry." You stammered as your face burned from the rush of blood. "I forgot you don't like your horns touched... did I hurt you?" You actually were a bit worried that you just hurt him or he was upset. He hadn't actually gotten upset with you in a really long time, so it was possible you just mistook his anger for lust, right? There's no way he actually looked at you like that.

He suddenly coughed and snatched the joint away from you, avoiding eye contact as he took a long drag from it. He hunched over as one of his elbows rested on his knee, his hand holding the horn you tugged on. You felt guilt well up inside you as well as tears. You knew minotaurs horns were sensitive, but you didn't think a little tug would hurt so badly. Then again, you didn't have horns. You felt awful for causing him any pain.

However, he was actually trying to fight the urge to pin you down on his bed and finger you until you were screaming. He may still have his virginity, but he was pretty talented at fingering and oral from what he had been told. You tugging on his horn and blowing smoke in his face made him so hard he was surprised he didn't rip his pants. He was hunched over to try and hide the massive bulge that appeared. He was trying his best to calm down from your sudden touch by smoking, but unfortunately for him, it just made him hornier. He always wondered if you had cast a spell on yourself to make you so irresistible.

"I'm fine... just... didn't expect that." He grumbled under his breath. That was an understatement. He noticed the room beginning to fill with smoke and that he had burned through half the massive thing already. He coughed a bit and put the half burnt joint out on the ashtray to save for another time. He tried his best to use his arms to cover his dick while he looked over at you. His blood ran cold for a moment when he saw you... crying?

"I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you or anything." You cry softly, your eyes extremely red from both the smoke and your tears.

"What? That didn't hurt me." He scoffs as he looks away. He acts offended at the suggestion you could hurt him, but in reality, he actually felt bad that he was making you cry.

"Then... why are you so upset about me touching your horn?" You sniffled and wiped your eyes. He looked back at you with his piercing green eyes for a moment and sighed.

"I'm not... upset with you... ugh, I know this sounds stupid, but I had a date for the full moon tonight, but she chickened out before I even went over... so I'm pent up and you know my fucking horns are sensitive. I don't know why you fucking touched them... Ugh! You always make it so difficult!" He bellowed before punching his wall above his headboard. Thankfully, this wasn't uncommon, and the durability spell on the wall was effective.

"What do I make difficult?! I make sure you don't destroy half your shit when you get like this!" You snapped back angrily as you felt yourself getting a bit annoyed with his whining.

"You make everything difficult! Living with you, your stupid incense and herbs, just your fucking scent is so fucking overwhelming. I can't take it anymore!" He bellows, hunching over with his head in his hands. "You make me fucking ache."

"... Huh?" You squeaked, confused.

"You cause me to act like this... I'm fucking pent up because of you. You're always around with your dumbass beautiful face and sexy body." He growls. "You have no idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands off of you all the time..."

"What if... I don't want you to?" You asked more as a question for yourself than for him. He rarely touched you, although you would touch him. You always wanted to know what his more gentle touch would feel like.

"What?" He asked, shocked at your suggestion. He stared at you, confused as you began to explain.

"Well, what if I don't want you to keep your hands to yourself?... what if I want you to touch me?" You had to look away as you spoke. You felt your face redden from embarrassment as you admitted what you really wanted.

"But... what if I hurt you again?" He grumbled lowly, clenching his fists in his lap as he sat up. Remembering the times he was too rough with you and hurt you was painful for him. You stuck by him through so much and still wanted to be around him to this day. He didn't want to cause you any pain.

"Oh, Brucie..." You began softly, resting a hand on his forearm. You were one of the few people that knew his real name, and you used it when you were more serious.

"Shut up." He snapped at the use of his real name as he rolled his eyes.

"You shut up." You retort as you look up at him and stand up on his bed. "Brucie, you won't hurt me."

"You don't know that. I've hurt you before." He says with a sad look in his eyes. The sight of the bruises he had given you back when you had first met were burned into his brain.

"There's only one way to find out." You gently take his giant hand in both of yours and look at him with a bashful smile. You felt his hand shaking as he tried to follow your lead, his other hand slowly reaching for you. He gently let's go of your hands and gingerly wraps his giant arms around you, pulling you into a tender embrace. His warmth surrounds you like a comforting blanket as you try your best to hug him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. You feel him let out a deep sigh and you do the same. One of your hands rubbed the back of his head, and the other rubbed between his shoulder blades. A deep rumble in his chest viberates through you as he relaxs at your touch. You can feel his tense muscles slowly relax through the fabric of his hoodie under your fingertips. He leans his wet nose into your neck and inhales deeply, making you shiver with a shakey breath.

"How do you smell so fucking good?" He groans, his hot breath bathing your neck. You have to hold your breath to ensure you don't moan. The way he was holding you made it impossible for you to move away due to his strength, but you also didn't want to. He suddenly snaps back to reality and pulls away from you, his large hands moving to gently hold your shoulders to keep you at arms length. "This is dangerous."

"What?"

"I can't stay gentle for long. I'll end up hurting you if we keep going..." He says with a hint of sadness in his voice. Your warmth felt so nice and he wanted more, but he knew holding back wasn't easy for him to manage long-term. He didn't want to put you at risk for his own selfish wants.

"Oh... um... I have an idea then, actually." You say while trying to avoid eye contact. You just needed to do the durability spell on yourself and grab that lube you have... but you didn't want to admit that you had special magic lube for fucking large monsters for when you used your toys. You didn't want to seem desperate, even if the puddle developing in your panties argued otherwise. "I-I can help with you being pent up..."

"What?" He asked, genuinely a bit confused. "Why?"

"I just want to help!" You lied. The truth was that you had wanted to fuck him for years. Longer than you guys had been living together, but it felt like when you guys moved in together that it would never happen. After you guys moved in together, when he wasn't with you at the studio or in the apartment, he was seemingly off getting his dick wet where-ever he could. It was frustrating, but you knew you probably wouldn't be able to handle him as a human anyways. However, you could experiment on your own. You had done research on how big an average minotaur dick was and had gotten a few different toys to work up to it, and a huge bottle of magic lube that was supposed to help humans accommodate larger monsters. Over the last couple of years, you were comfortably using the minotaur dildo without any issues as long as you used the lube. You would often have to buy more. A small smug smirk began to develop on his lips as he cocked an eyebrow.

"You want to help? What makes you think your tiny human body could handle helping me?" He said as he tilted your head up to look at him by using one of his fingers under your chin. He repeatedly looks down at your lips while staring into your eyes. He may have seemed confident in that moment, but he was actually trying to get you to back down. He thought you were joking about wanting to help to try and cheer him up. He thought playing along would make you chicken out.

"I, uhhhh... may or may not have magic lube in my room... and the durability spell should work if I cast it on myself, so theoretically I can help you... and you wouldn't have to hold back." You said with your resolve only wavering slightly. You couldn't look him in the eyes, and your face was beet red, but you didn't pull your head away from his hand. After a few moments of silence you looked up at him and you saw that his eyes were wide and his mouth was open like he wanted to say something, but nothing was coming out.

He was stunned that you actually had that stuff. Maybe you had been with more guys than he thought? No, he never smelled anyone coming over he didn't know about. Would have been nice to know you had magic lube. He could have been fucking you for weeks. Months? How long have you even had that lube for? Slowly, his resolve to hold back was dwindling at your words. He couldn't help but look you up and down, unintentionally undressing you with his eyes.

"Show me." Bruce commands with a deep growl, a dark look in his eyes as you slowly nod. You didn't want to argue with him if he looked like that. You jump off the bed and run over to his bedroom door, a bit wobbly from smoking. You hear him chuckle as you leave his room. "Hurry up, or I'll change my mind." You felt a bit dizzy from your high, but it could have been from all the blood in your cheeks.

As you got to your room, you walked over to your closet and sighed. You ended up with the smaller room in the apartment, of course. It still gave you more space compared to Bruce. You gently rubbed your cheeks as you tried to calm down and opened your closet. You had a large box on the top shelf that you kept everything in. As you were pulling it down, you heard familiar stomping coming towards your room. Shit. You dropped the box on the ground and quickly opened it, grabbing the lube before trying to close the box before he walked in. However, your timing wasn't good enough, and he walked in just as you had grabbed the lid to put it back on. You could have died right there on the spot as he stared at your collection of giant sex toys.

"Woah... I didn't think you were that much of a slut. Examples of real dicks you've taken?" He laughs as you felt extremely embarrassed, but still felt the need to defend yourself.

"Shut up! I'm a virgin, okay?! I haven't been with any other guys!" You blurt out without a second thought as you slam the lid back on the container. Your hands snap to cover your mouth as instant regret sets in. You didn't want him to know that. You didn't want him to know that you jerked off with those toys, hoping that he'd replace it. You let out a long sigh while you worked up the smokey courage to admit more. "I've only ever had an interest in a particular guy if I'm being completely honest..."

"Oh." He felt a pang of guilt as his heart sank. He felt awful for putting pressure on you. Why was he also upset that you were interested in someone else? "Who?"

"W-well, he's always near me... he's strong... makes me feel safe... he's, uh..." You glance down at the bulge in his jeans and swallow before looking up at him. "B-big..."

"Is it fucking Aram? That son of a bitch!" Bruce grumbled angrily, unable to hold back his temper and punching the wall. Thank god you made sure almost everything in your room had the durability spell too. He was frustrated that you wanted him as practice for his annoying manager. He wanted to kill him in that moment. "Fucking creep!"

"Wha- it's not Ari!" You yell in annoyance. Bruce was so dense. "It's you, dumbass! I'm interested in you! I wouldn't have wanted to fuck you for my first time if I wasn't!" You were fed up. You were done trying to throw hints around. He stood there for a moment, seemingly trying to process what you said.

"WHAT?!" He bellowed, shaking the walls of the penthouse before clearing his throat and trying again. "You're interested in me?"

"W-why do you think I have all those toys and that lube? I'm not stupid. I know minotaurs are big... I didn't want to be totally inexperienced..." You scoffed softly, trying to play it cool, but miserably failing with how you couldn't even look at him and your face being dark red.

"But why me?... I'm an arrogant asshole that takes up all your time and energy... you deserve better than me... I drive you crazy." He states gruffly, but you can still hear a hint of sadness despite his attitude.

"Yeah, but have you ever thought about how you make me crazy? You always try your best to be nice to me. You take care of me and protect me. I get to travel all over and smoke weed all day with you. I wouldn't have the life I have if it weren't for you." You say with a soft, genuine smile, approaching him as he backs up into the wall. His heart fluttered in his chest as he listened to you. "If all I have to do is make sure you don't break anything and repair a few things, I'm more than happy to take on more..." You hesitated for a moment, unable to stop yourself from looking over at his bulge before quickly looking away again. "Um, responsibility..." His breath catches in his throat as he looks at you. He stared down at you with wide eyes for a few moments before they narrow.

"I need you to do that fucking spell now." He says in a deeper voice than you're used to. It took you off guard.

"What? N-now?" You stammered softly. You worried you got him upset again.

"Just fucking do it." He growls in a more commanding tone. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, but also stirred your excitement. You didn't argue though, just quickly grabbing the closest marker and standing in front of your mirror as you tried to carefully draw the sigil on your lower abdomen under your belly button. It technically would work if you drew it anywhere, but you figured that you might as well have it close to what you wanted protected. You tried your best to stop your hands from shaking as you could see Bruce in the mirror, waiting. You could see the bulge in his pants grow bigger by the minute as you worked on getting the sigil drawn. Once it's done, you whisper your incantation, and a faint electric shock washes over your whole body out from where the sigil is.

"There. It should be ready- Ah!" You squealed as he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and threw you over his shoulder without a word. You brace yourself on his shoulder as he keeps one hand on your waist to keep you from falling.

"You're such a bitch. I can't believe you fucking hid this from me." He growls before delivering a swift smack to your ass, earning a screech from you. It was hard, but it didn't hurt other than a sting. Either he was still being gentle, or the spell worked. Thank god. You let out a moan involuntarily as his large hand rubbed and groped your ass through your shorts. What did you get yourself into? "How long have you wanted to do this?"

"A while..." You admit quietly as you watch his ass, a bit distracted by the view until his hand connects with your ass once again.

"How fucking long?" He growls, growing impatient.

"Y-years!" You admit, gripping the back of his sweater as you squeeze your thighs together tightly. You hoped he couldn't smell your arousal, but you could hear him sniff the air a bit as he started moving. He made his way back to his room and kicked the door closed. The door slammed on it's hinges, startling you for a moment before Bruce suddenly throws you onto his large bed and you land with a bounce. He tosses the lube onto the bed and it lands with a bounce a couple feet away from you.

"Really? Years?" He asks, pulling off his hoddie to reveal his muscular upper body. He had many large scars visible through the fur of his chest and arms, and many more you knew about that were hidden underneath. He had gotten a bit of soft belly over the years of being on the road and eating takeout, but you thought he was still hot. You always thought he was. You wanted to kiss every single scar on his body and tell him that. "Even now?"

"Yes." You admit with a sly smile. The haze of smoke that still lingered in the room made you feel warm, and maybe a bit overconfident. You're taken by surprise as he crawls over you on his hands and knees, a grin spreading across his face as his imposing form casts a shadow over yours.

"Shit... you made me wait so long... I'm gonna enjoy tasting you, princess." He presses his large wet nose against your neck and inhales softly. His tongue slides out and licks along your collarbone and up your neck. He pulls away just enough so his face is in front of yours. He can't help but stare into your eyes before crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. Your hands quickly find his chest and run upwards, wrapping around his neck as you moan against his lips. His large tongue slides into your mouth as he moves one of his hands to pull your shorts off. He pulls off your shorts and panties in one smooth motion.

His tongue filled your mouth so much it made you gag, but you didn't care. You had craved him for so long. And after knowing the spell works, you couldn't wait for him to just fuck you, but feeling him finally touch you was more intoxicating than the smoke he smelled like. You felt him slowly pull his tongue out of your mouth and pull away from your lips. You gasp and pant as you realize you had forgotten to breathe the whole time.

"B-bruce-" you speak shakily as you stare up at him with your gorgeous, lust drunk eyes. He lets out a soft groan as he suddenly rips your shirt with the hand that was groping your boobs and throws the shreds off to the side.

"Say my fucking name, witch." He growled as he starts to move down. He positions himself so his head is between your legs, braced on his elbows with his hands holding your hips much gentler than you were expecting.

"Brucie... please." You were quickly silenced by a squeal as his large tongue slid between your wet folds, giving your pussy a long, teasing lick. His nose pushes against your clit as his hands grips your hips a bit tighter.

"Oh fuck... You taste so fucking good..." He moans softly against your pussy lips, making you involuntarily grind against his face. He grins and keeps lapping at your pussy.

"Shit." You moan as his tongue slides into your needy pussy. He knew he'd never be able to fit his dick inside you without stretching you first, even with the spell, so he was glad he was talented in other ways to help the process. His thick tongue fucked you as you threw your head back, moaning loudly. You kept trying to buck your hips, unsure if you were trying to get away or get more, but he kept you held firmly in place for him with his rough hands. He wasn't letting you go anywhere. And he was eating you out like he was starved.

You squirmed in his hands as his flat nose rubbed your clit. His tongue kept thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, curving to hit everything just right and listening to your moans to make sure you were enjoying yourself. Your thighs clamp down on the sides of his head as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. You suddenly grab his horns and he moans into your cunt, the vibration sending you into your first orgasm of the night.

"You're lucky you taste so good..." He chuckles as he pulls his mouth away from your drenched pussy, moving one of his hands from it's place on your hips to grab the lube. "Grabbing my horns made me real impatient now... but I need to make sure you're ready for me..." He sits back on his cloven feet as he squirts some lube onto his index finger. You take the opportunityto adjust yourself comfortably, biting your lip as you wait in anticipation of what he's doing. He puts the lube next to him as he moves his finger to press against your entrance. He rubs your outer lips with the lube, making you squirm as he teases you. He places his free hand gently on your lower abdomen to keep you still as he pushes his finger into your pussy. You stretch around him as his digit slowly fills you. It felt like the human sized toys you had tried before, but a lot better. A low grumble resonates from his throat as he looks down at you with a smile. "You're so tight... even with all that work you put in..." His voice and what he said made you clench around his finger, moaning as he slowly pumps his finger inside you.

The magic lube did have an odd side effect you had forgotten to mention. It used a mild aphrodisiac to help with the 'relaxing process' and because you were human, mild aphrodisiac mixed with smoking weed usually made your mind only think about him and what he'd do to you. It had just been fantasy for the longest time, but experiencing it now was making your brain melt. His hand on your abdomen gently pressed down as he started to move his hand a bit faster, earning plenty more desperate moans from you. A mix of your juices and the lube were dripping from your pussy and onto his sheets, but he didn't care. They were going to get a lot more messy soon enough.

"You seem eager... Ready for another one already?" He asks, slowing down for a moment as he teases your slick hole with another one of his thick fingers. You nod eagerly, opening your mouth to say yes, but only moans spilling out. A deep chuckle comes from him as he grins and eases another finger inside you, speeding up the pace again. You felt a sting for a brief moment before the lube helped you accommodate him. Two of his fingers was almost too much for you, but the lube was working wonders, just like his fingers. "I haven't had anyone take my fingers so well. Impressive for a human."

Bruce chuckled again as his fingers worked inside you, pressure building once again as you felt yourself close to your second release of the night. He can feel you getting close, so he adds a bit of extra pressure on your belly, and he curls his fingers to hit your g-spot. Your eyes roll back as he keeps up the pace, forcing your orgasm out of you as you scream out in pleasure. Your body shakes and your pussy twitches around his fingers as he grins and slows to a stop. Your sweaty, stunning body was tembling under him, and he was drinking up the sight.

"Fuck, you're so desperate for me baby. You already came twice." He moves his hand from your lower abdomen to place his hand next to head. He leans down and kisses you, groaning against your lips as he feels you buck your hips to try and get more friction inside you again. "You're always so fucking impatient." He whispers as he slowly pulls out his fingers and gets off the bed. You whine at the empty feeling, sitting up as you watched him take off his jeans. In the process, his phone fell out of his pocket. He grabs it and sees a text on his phone.

Bloom: close your fucking window Bruce. The whole city can hear you guys.

"Ah, shit." Still in his boxers, he walks over to close his window before walking back over to the bed with a sigh. "Where were we?" He says with a grin, making sure you were paying attention before he finally took off his boxers. You watch him closely as he reveals his dick, and your jaw drops slightly. It's bigger than your fucking arm. His thick, vieny cock bounces in front of you as you can see precum drip from his rounded tip and onto the edge of the bed. Thank god for magic lube, or you wouldn't have been able to fit him inside at all. You have to look away before you start drooling, and you look up at him. Upon looking at his face, he's avoiding eye contact and actually looks a bit nervous. An idea pops into your head based on the look on his face and how his dick is twitching, clearly eager for what's to come.

"Are you a virgin too?" You pipe up quietly. His eyes snapped to yours and he spots the shit eating grin spreading across your tired face.

"Excuse me, bitch?" He questions, annoyed that you had even suggested it. Sure, you were right, but how dare you? He's caught off guard by you getting on your hands and knees to crawl over to him. Your legs were still a bit unstable, so you were shaking a bit, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't love the sight of you crawling to him. His dick twitched more in response and you bit your lip.

"It's not a bad thing if you are, Brucie." You sat back on your heels at the edge of the bed and grasp his dick in both hands. You feel him tense under your touch. His dick is so heavy in your hands as you gently rub your hands along his length. He moans and shivers in response, his hands gripping his thighs as he tries his best not to grab you. "You seem happy to have my attention like this."

"F-fuck you." He grunts out between moans and closes his eyes for a moment. He sucks in a breath as he suddenly feels your tongue on him, his eyes snapping open to watch you lick and kiss all over his dick.

"That's exactly what I want. And I know this guy wants it too. Do you?" You giggled as you position yourself so his dick is resting between your boobs. You use your arms to squeeze them together around his cock the best you can while each of your hands grip his cock as well. You can't get your mouth around his tip, but you still lick and suck the tip the best you can as you use your upper body to jerk him.

He stares at you with wide eyes for a moment before cupping your face gently and watching you enthralled. He's never had anyoke try to do this for him before. It may not be a normal blow job, but the fact that you wanted to try and make him feel good too drove him crazy. He can't help but gently thrust against you as you try your best to jerk him. He didn't want to interrupt whatever you were doing, but it just felt so good...

"O-oh fuck-" He stammered out, trying to pull away, but you kept a surprisingly strong grip. He was twitching widely against you and you could tell he was close already. Poor guy must be so touch starved. After only a few more thrusts, he bellows and groans as one of his hands dig his blunt nails into his thigh. He cums hard, moaning as you continue to jerk him and lick him until the ropes of cum came to a stop. You latched your mouth onto his tip and you tried you best to swallow but he came so much and the rest spilled all over your chin and chest. He was shaking a bit, panting as his vision refocuses on you once again.

"I didn't expect you to cum so quickly." You said with a giggle, slowly pulling away and letting his dick fall. "Too bad. I wanted more still." He groans as he looks over you, messy with his cum. As he catches his breath, he suddenly pushes you back on his bed, grabbing your legs and pushing them back against your chest. His dick quickly springs back to life as he sees you under him, covered in his cum. It's all over you like you just stepped out of a gang bang, but it was just him. You were both loving it.

"I never said I was done... and after you came on my face and my fingers earlier, I deserve your hot pussy wrapped around my dick and ready to take everything I give you..." He growled, his eyes showing pure lust as he roughly pushes you back onto the bed. As you flopped onto your back, he was quick to spread your legs and position himself between them.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" You giggled softly before seeing him run his messy cock along your folds, your overstimulated clit throbbing. He grabs the lube once again and coats his cock in it while still grinding against your pussy. As he presses his thick tip against your entrance, you realize he's gonna fuck you without a condom. "W-wait, no condom? What about-"

"I'm not fucking wearing a condom when you've been teasing me for so fucking long..." He growled through grit teeth. You didn't even want to argue. You wanted to feel him. All of him. You didn't want a condom on him either. You weren't on birth control, and he knew that. "I'm gonna fuck you until you're fucking pregnant."

His words made you feel hotter than you cared to admit. Without another word, he starts to ease himself into you with a stiffled groan. You moan and shake as his cock stretches you with a slight sting before melting into pleasure. It takes a minute for you to adjust to just his head before he starts to thrust his hips, slowly pushing deeper and deeper. You were already on cloud 9, and so was he. It took some work, but once you took him all the way, he couldn't help but hold himself inside for a few moments. He was panting heavily as you felt every throb and twitch he made inside you, just like how he could feel every squeeze and flutter your walls made. Your stomach was bulging from his size, leaving you getting even more hot and bothered with every second he sent just having you cockwarm him.

"Fuck... you feel even better than I thought you would..." He groans as his massive hands grasp the back of your thighs, pushing your knees back against your chest. You gasp and don't have a chance to say anything before he suddenly starts to thrust like a wild animal. The sudden jolt of intense pleasure nearly blinds you, everything inside you that made you scream, being hit all at once. Your pussy squeezes his cock hard as only a few thrusts in you're already ready to burst and he moans at the sensation. "Already gonna cum? Such a slut. Be a good slut for me and cum on my fucking dick. I'm not fucking stopping."

You didn't need to be told twice, screaming out in pleasure as you came hard, your vision going white as he just continues to fuck you like nothing is happening. You can't think straight, just moaning and quivering as he continues to rail you through your most intense orgasm to date.

You finally start to come down from your high after what feels like hours, but in reality it was only a couple of minutes. You feel him start to throb once again, his thrusts getting more sloppy and his hands shaking as he keeps your legs held in place. It felt like he was going to break you in half, but you didn't care about anything, but your next rapidly approaching orgasm. He leans down and his large tongue licks the sweat from your neck, his hot breath bathing your neck and leaving goosebumps on your skin.

"F-fuck... I'm close already... what did you do to me? I think I'm fucking addicted to you..." He groans in your ear, his words turning you on even further as he drinks up your moans directly into his ear. "You want my cum baby? I can feel you getting close, too. I want you to beg for my cum baby. Fucking beg for me."

"F-fucking cum in me, please!" You moan out, his thrusts getting even rougher as he grunts. His last bit of restraint is gone as he fucks into you like a machine, unrelenting. You feel his cock throb wildly, his hips and heavy balls snapping against yours in a final rough thrust as he cums inside you. You cum with a screaming moan and clamp down on his dick, milking his cock as he bellows and dumps his load inside you.

You're both panting and trembling as he fills you up for what feels like forever, your belly bulging due to both his cock and his cum. You're both high on endorphins and super strong weed, so both of you have to take a pause before he attempts to pull out. He tries to go as slowly as possible, hissing with a grunt as the head of his dick pops out, his cum spilling out of you and onto his sheets. He groans at the sight before biting his lip and getting up.

"Fuck... you really are addicting..." He grins as he crawls over top of you, pressing his hand gently on your belly as the rest of his cum flows out of you. You moan softly, and he takes your lips in a tender kiss before picking you up and carrying you to his bathroom. He placed you down on the counter as he grabbed a face cloth and dampened it before carefully wiping you down. You can't help but moan as he rubs your sensitive body, shaking as he cleans up your pussy as well and avoids the sigil on your stomach. He watches your every move as he bites his lip hard, trying to keep himself from fucking you further. He kisses you once again before grabbing another face cloth and putting it in your hands.

"Finish cleaning yourself if there's anywhere I missed. I'll be back. I'm gonna go change my sheets." He says with a small grin as he turns to leave the bathroom. It's not like you could go anywhere if you wanted to. The durability spell and the lube worked great, but you were so sensitive and high that you would fall on your face if you even tried to walk. You cleaned your face and tried to clean your hair was best you could. You needed rest. You could shower in the morning.

Once he was done changing the sheets, he came back wearing boxers, with one of his shirts in his hands and puts it on you without asking. He then picks you up and carries you back to his bed, pulling back the covers and putting you down gently. You giggle, his bed nice and soft and his shirt nearly being a floor length dress for you. You stick your hands out the arm holes and smile up at him as he crawls into bed next to you.

"Thank you, Brucie." You say as he covers you both with his plush blanket and pulls you into his chest.

"Shut up. I wanted to make sure you were comfortable. You need to rest." He whispers gruffly as his arms surround you. "We have a long day tomorrow." You smile and nuzzle your face into his chest, letting your exhaustion take you after he kisses you goodnight.

As you're drifting off, you can swear he whispers, "I love you."

#monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster x reader #monster imagine #minotaur #minotaur x reader #monster smut #minotaur boyfriend #minotaur husband

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cherryrikis · 16 days

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ONE LESS LONELY GIRL - 014 ! im one less lonely girl

PAIRING idols riki x fem reader

SYNOPSIS fans always point out the chemistry between you and riki, and it only continues to grow after you become mc’s together on music bank. but as your feelings rise, so does the tension. and people begin to notice, so you try not to let riki know how you feel. but unbeknownst to you, he feels entirely the same way.

authors note so thats a wrap! just like that, its over. this is technically the last official part bc ep15 is more like an epilogue/can be read as a standalone, but its still just as meaningful to the plot. i had so much fun writing this and i gained so much support and so many new moots. i love you all and thank you for staying here even though i struggled to update while juggling school and work. 💗

previous <> masterlist <> next

“i’m so sad to announce that today will be our last show together, as our contract has reached its end.” you read off the script, lightly patting your waterline with the pad of your pointer finger.

“but, i hope this won’t be the last time we see each other. i am very thankful for this opportunity.” riki spoke as he looked into the camera lens, before moving closer to link his arm with yours.

“this was newjeans’ y/n,” “and this was enhypen’s ni-ki! please look forward to our future projects. we may no longer mc together, but we will forever be a couple together. thank you everyone!”

the cameras stopped rolling, and the red light turned off which signaled the recording was over.

staff and crew rushed to the both of you, so you were immediately bombarded with baskets of fruit, chocolates, snd two flower bouquets.

“this is for a good few months of connecting together. thank you for your hard work and dedication.” the head of the staff greeted, as his assistants handed out your gifts.

“thank you sir. we look forward to seeing more of you in the future!” the two of you bowed, before leaving to head backstage.

“dani said she’s gonna come with everyone else to pick us up. they want to get dinner at that chicken spot to celebrate our contract ending.” you informed riki, turning to show the texts in the group chat as he finished changing out his stage outfit.

hyein! - ‘congrats, you’re free from the chains music bank had you bounded into!🥳🎉’

danii 💗 - ‘me and enjeans are gonna get u guys from work so we can get chicken. great job on mubank :)’

riki chuckled, before handing your phone back to you. “sunghoon and heeseung are gonna get so drunk. so, beware.” he emphasized.

“no worries. im stuck with you anyway.” you sighed, gently punching his shoulder.

“here’s to riki and y/n, for finally being free from kbs! i hope none of us ever have to mc again.” sunghoon toasted as he raised his glass, after jake poured everyone shots.

“for real. we barely saw you guys while you were signed to that contract.” minji nudged your shoulder.

hyein burst out laughing, almost spilling the drinks scattered around her place at the table. “if you guys weren’t dating, y/n would’ve been sobbing because she’d never see you again!”

“is.. is she, drunk?” sunoo raised a brow, gently pulling hyein’s hood over her head.

“sunoo! she’s underage! all i got her were 2 shirley temples.” danielle gasped.

“okay! enough. we’re in public.” riki announced. “baby? go ahead my love.” he gestured sweetly for you to make your speech.

“thanks ‘ki.” you smiled. “i’m pretty happy our managers decided to let us have a joint interview that day. if we didn’t, me and riki probably would’ve never met. so, i’m glad music bank happened. otherwise, i couldn’t call this kid here my boyfriend.” you spoke, moving to wrap your arms around riki in a soft hug.

“cheers!” everyone exclaimed in awe.

as your group members around you yelled out congratulatory speeches, all riki could think about was you.

because now that you could be in his arms in public with no repercussions, that was all that mattered.

you looked at him with a bright smile, and riki could feel his heart melt as your expression.

the world had one less lonely girl.

TAGLIST (italics = couldnt be tagged) @hannicorpse @luvvhaerin @chaevibes @en-verse @ren2jay @choppedballoondetective @heartheejake @imanalien143 @istglevi-gotmesimping @yndairy @eleanorheartschishiya @lonelylandofan @gweoriz @jaemified @onlyhyunjin @softpia @frecklesbrownies @riksaes @wensurr @rikifordmiami @brideslit @ant-onie @yumilovesloona @aeminju @hoonics @catecita @clampclover @rei4sunoo @addictedtohobi @rikidaze @baekxo07 @xotyla @melancholy-z @rikisgeef @jung1w0n @tocupid @onlyseung @i03jae @iheartshopping @istphanie @queenriki7 @academiq @1117promises @nctislifue @haechansbbg @rairaiblog @nabia-bia @pkjay @lixiebokie @hiekoo @r1kizerr @d-dilemma @kingofthekards @iilwji @hoonatic @woorcve @enhaz1

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #niki smau #niki x reader #enhypen niki #enhypen imagines #nishimura riki #enhypen smau #riki x reader #enhypen scenarios

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thejujvtsupost · 5 months

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Filming A Sex Scene

Actor!Gojo has to film his first ever sex scene and he’s nervous, good thing his girlfriend is there to encourage him.

Notes: F!reader, established relationship, fluff, healthy communication, anxiety, and humor. So unedited.

Up until now all Satoru’s done is action films and a couple of comedies, romance films weren’t his style.

So other than a few awkward on screen kisses, he’s never had to do anything intimate.

But this movie was a huge deal with hundreds of people running around in the studio, and even though he had modesty garments on, he still felt naked.

“You pinky promise you won’t be jealous or upset about it? Maybe they can get my body double…” Satoru was slumped against you, arms hugging your middle while you stood between his legs.

“Baby this is your job. There’s nothing sexy about doing these scenes, they’re going to be directing you the entire time. But if you feel uncomfortable, then you shouldn’t do it. You have my full support.”

“Will you stay and watch?”

“Do you want me to?”

He nodded against your abdomen, “I’m the only one in the main cast that hasn’t done a sex scene so I wanna do it but I don’t want to do it alone.”

You hum and kiss his head, “Technically you’re not alone, but I understand. I’ll be right off to the side holding your robe, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Hey I’m serious, there’s nothing wrong with not wanting to do this. Your contract says you don’t have to do the intimate scene if you don’t want to. Plenty of actors never need to and it won’t change your skill. If anything, saying no increases your integrity because you’re putting down a boundary.”

“Can you see if Shoko’s out there? I think I should talk about it with her.” He knew Shoko, the assistant director, would have his back. They’ve worked on several projects together, one of them including the current director: Kento Nanami.

“Of course, I’ll flag her down.” You kiss his forehead and leave but you’re met face to face with shoko when you open the door to his dressing room, “Hey Toru, speak of the devil. I was just about to see if you were around, Shoko.”

Her brows furrowed slightly, Gojo rarely needed anything, a big perk of working with him. “Is everything alright, Gojo?”

“I don’t think I want to have fake sex with Yuki on camera anymore.”

You facepalm and sigh, “There’s so many other ways to word it and you went with that?”

“Okay no big deal, we’ll get your double ready but we’ll need your voice for the scene. Sound okay?”

“It’s that easy?”

“Well yeah, your double’s already on set from the jump scene earlier this morning. You can get dressed, we don’t reuse the garments so just toss them. Heads up though, Kento will probably want you to come in a little early on Friday to record the sound bites for the sex scene.”

A heavy breath left Gojo’s body in relief, “No one’s mad or anything?”

Shoko laughed at him a little, “No, no one’s mad. For this sort of thing it honestly doesn’t matter if it’s you or the double physically. Kento doesn’t mind either way, plus your contract has that stipulation for this exact reason.”

“Oh, then I can go home?”

Shoko confirmed and left with a wave of her hand to make arrangements. “You handled that well, baby. I’m proud of you for communicating your needs.”

Gojo’s cheeks went pink, “I don’t understand how people do it, I feel like it’s too much exposure.”

“Everyone just has a different comfort level, nothing wrong with that.”

“I guess so. Just freaks me out.” He stood up and pecked your lips before dropping his robe, “You’re the only one I want to see me naked anyway.”

“Oh my god just go get dressed so we can get dinner!” You shook your head and hung up his robe in a rare moment of silence.

The quiet didn’t last long, though, because Satoru yelled from the connected bathroom: “You know you love me!”

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! <3

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #reader insert #jjk x reader #no use of y/n #gojo satoru #actor!gojo #established relationship #jjk fluff #f reader #gojo fluff #yuki tsukumo #nanami kento #shoko ieiri

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oneshotnewbie · 8 months

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hii! i would like to request maya x carina x reader, where reader is still in college/university and a whole incident happens. r is taken as hostage and carina and maya panic after getting a call. really angsty pls

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ This one-shot includes the mention of a rampage and a brief mention of a hostage situation. Those plots are presented. If this triggers you too easily or you just can´t handle the subject, I urge you NOT to read this work. I am NOT embellishing this topic under any circumstance. Read at your own risk.

ᕚ---ᕘ

For you, the university was not only a place of learning, but also a melting pot of emotions. As the daughter of Maya and Carina, you felt the expectations weighing on your shoulders. Your mother, a respected obstetrician-gynecologist, had already made her mark in the medical world, and you felt the urge to follow in her footsteps.

Your parents had never put any pressure on you to follow the same path as either of them. Nevertheless, you felt an inner obligation to continue your family tradition. Even as a little girl, you listened with fascination when your mother talked about the challenges and successes of her job. The love of medicine seemed to be embedded in your DNA.

The campus pulsed with life as you moved through the crowd, clutching your books on anatomy and surgery, eager to head to your lectures. Like every day, your heart beat faster with excitement and a hint of uncertainty.

In your first year at university you found yourself in a world characterized by complex theories and demanding internships. The anatomy books became your constant companion and you learned to understand human anatomy like a puzzle. In the labs, you made precise cuts and analyzed tissue samples with the dedication of an artist who wanted to perfect every detail of her work.

The challenges of studying became clear as you approached your first internship at the hospital. Beads of sweat appeared on your forehead as you assisted in your first procedure. The smell of disinfectant and the hum of medical equipment surrounded you. You felt the responsibility getting bigger and bigger.

But with each passing day, not only did the challenge grow, but so did your passion. You soaked up the knowledge like it was the sweetest honey and found comfort in the advice of your professors.

The lecture hall you had just entered was filled with a hushed murmur of inquisitive students as you slumped in your seat. The excited atmosphere before another exciting lecture permeated the room as the professor began to talk about the latest advances in surgery. Surrounded by attentive fellow students, you listened intently to the expert's words and the technical details that rained down on you.

The projections on the wall showed complex surgical procedures as the professor delivered her explanations with enthusiasm and expertise and you tried to understand the connections between the details. You found yourself in a stream of information that took you into the fascinating world of medical innovations. Your eyes sparkled with excitement, taking in every sentence as if they could be keys to some secret knowledge.

Just before the professor was about to play a video showing complex open-heart surgery, a shrill alarm code, followed by an urgent warning, ripped through the air. "Attention, active shooter. Barricade yourself in the rooms." The room froze for a moment. You sat up, your eyes wide in surprise. An uneasy feeling settled in your stomach.

Students frantically ran to corners and sought shelter under tables. The professor tried in vain to calm the panicked crowd. But the situation escalated further when muffled shots were heard from outside the building. Recognizing this soundscape captured the attention of everyone in the room. Faces faded with fear and a feeling of helplessness spread.

Your heart was in your throat, you could hear the pulsing of your own heartbeat as you also pushed yourself into a corner, trying to keep a clear head. Panic was in the air, and thoughts of the surgical procedures and advances paled in front of the pressing reality.

A wave of fear passed through you and your thoughts whirled wildly. The idea of the place of learning becoming a scene of violence shook you to the core.

In a moment that seemed like an eternity, doors were thrown open and hooded figures entered. Another wave of fear swept through the room as people realized that this was no mere alarm, but a cruel reality. The shadow of disaster had entered the lecture hall.

Armed men in dark clothes now dominated the scene. Your class was taken hostage and a cold shiver ran through your body. Your eyes searched for allies, for a means of escape, but the men with weapons clung to their control over the desperate crowd.

The professor, your fellow students and you were trapped in a nightmare that was unfolding at breakneck speed. The situation worsened when the men began making demands and firing wildly in the air. You suddenly found yourself in the middle of a threatening drama that you never thought possible.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Maya and Carina stood in the fire station's supply room, surrounded by boxes full of medical supplies, taking inventory of necessary medical supplies. The mood was focused as the two checked lists and made sure all life-saving supplies were present.

"Do you think we should order more bandages? To be on the safe side?" the blonde asked as she pulled out individual small packages, counted them and then sorted them into the cupboards. "Yes, I think so. You can't have enough of them, especially on larger missions."

The sounds of the plastic wraps and packaging had created a calming atmosphere, but it was suddenly broken by a shrill voice. Victoria, who until recently had been sitting in the relaxation room, stormed into the small inventory room, her eyes wide with dismay. "You must come with me immediately," she said in a trembling voice. Her hands were gripping the remote control tightly.

Maya and Carina exchanged a worried look and dropped everything. Both women's hearts began to pound wildly in their chests as they quickly left the room and followed their friend. As they entered the room, they both stopped in the middle of it.

The television flickered as the newscaster solemnly announced the terrible truth. "A serious incident has occurred at Seattle University. Armed attackers have entered the building and taken hostages. Police are on scene, but the situation is extremely critical."

Maya and Carina stared at the screen in shock as the reporter reported on the dramatic scenes, hitting them like a blow. Images of students running out filled the room. An icy shiver ran through the two of them when the name of the affected university was mentioned several times. A feeling of helplessness fell like a leaden veil over their hearts. The words invaded their thoughts, and the images of their beloved daughter studying at this institution seemed like a fragile glass threatened by an impending storm. "Y/n.. she has classes today. She's there."

Carina felt her knees weakening and tears forming in her eyes. The blonde reflexively clung to the back of the sofa. The world of the two, which had just seemed so familiar and safe, was thrown out of control. The maternal instincts awoke with frightening intensity when they thought of the dact that you were currently in a dangerous situation. "Oh mio Dio, no," the brunette whispered, her voice shaky. Maya, usually a rock in the surf, felt tears burning in her eyes too. Fear for her daughter engulfed them both like a blazing fire.

"We have to go to the university immediately," Maya spoke, interrupted by the muffled sound of the news in the background. Carina nodded, the determination in her eyes reflecting the inner strength that mothers could mobilize in times of crisis.

The fear, worry and hope blurred together as they set off together, seeking reassurance that they would do everything in their power to get you out of there.

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seniorpollinationtechnician · 4 months

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Meet the Townies: ᴇᴛʜᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄ

Ethan Harper grew up an only child and spent his formative years immersed in the world of engineering. His fascination with machines and technology was inspired by his father who was a skilled mechanic. While attending high school, Ethan secretly began working on a personal project where he attempted to design and build a robot. He poured countless hours into this endeavor, often sacrificing teenage milestones to tend to this robot he later named ISAAC (Intelligent System and Advanced Assistant Companion). Upon graduating High School, Ethan enrolled at Foxbury Institute where he pursued a degree in Mechanical Engineering. During his time there, Ethan excelled in his studies, consistently earning top marks and impressing his professors with his innovative ideas and dedication to the craft. In his free time, he continued to work on ISAAC since the university's state-of-the-art facilities and access to cutting-edge resourced allowed him to make significant improvements. He refined ISAAC's design, enhanced its capabilities and incorporated the latest advancements in artificial intelligence and robotics. After graduating with honors from Foxbury, Ethan quickly began carving out a professional life for himself. His reputation as a brilliant young engineer opened many doors and he received numerous job offers from leading tech companies. Ethan's expertise eventually caught the attention of the military who offered him a position to develop a project for them. Though he initially hesitated, the opportunity was too enticing to pass up. Despite his professional success and the accolades he received for his work, Ethan felt an intense void in his life that he couldn't seem to fill. His relentless pursuit of perfection in his projects, particularly with ISAAC, often left him feeling isolated. The extensive time he spent in the lab, both during his time at Foxbury and throughout his career, meant that his personal life took a backseat. Ethan's social interactions were limited and he found it difficult to connect with others on a deeper level. His closest colleagues, at one point, noticed and gently encouraged him to step out of his comfort zone and try dating. Ethan reluctantly agreed and while the dates he went on did not lead to a lasting relationship, it helped Ethan open up and see the value in balancing his personal and professional life. As he continued to make strides in his professional career, Ethan was approached by his alma mater, Foxbury institute, with an invitation to teach part-time. The university recognized his achievements and believed that his expertise could inspire and educate the next generation of engineers. Teaching at Foxbury became a profoundly rewarding experience for him. Standing before eager students, he shared his knowledge and passion. He found joy in helping them navigate their own paths and would often encourage them to think creatively and push the boundaries of what was possible. Meanwhile, ISAAC continued to improve every day, becoming an indispensable part of Ethan's life. By this point, ISAAC's capabilities extended far beyond what Ethan originally intended. ISAAC excelled in research assistance, laboratory management, and technical maintenance. The robot could analyze complex data, run simulations and suggest innovative solutions to engineering problems which significantly sped up Ethan's workflow. ISAAC also managed clerical tasks such as organizing files, scheduling meetings, and maintaining equipment, allowing Ethan to focus on more critical aspects of his projects. ISAAC'S home automation features made Ethan's personal life a breeze, as well. The robot could control various smart devices, perform household chores, such as cleaning and grocery shopping, and even cook meals based on Ethan's dietary preferences. Recently, Ethan and ISAAC relocated to the town of Oasis Springs due to a job offer at a cutting-edge research lab.

#meetthetownies #the sims #the sims 4 #ts4

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sukunasdirtylaugh · 8 months

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3 Pink Roses Mean, "I Love You"

- Nanami Kento (ch9)

synopsis: a confession from Nanami sweeps out. Nobara, being the best assistant ever, helps you pursue a new project, and Nanami comes home late one night to reassure you. A romantic date is planned where feelings blossom. Gojo is also a nosy blob.

series masterlist

For as long as he could remember, Nanami Kento had always kept his emotions under check. Never in his life had he had to control his words, except in the case of Gojo where he really, and his therapist agrees, really exhausts his limits.

The businessman keeps his emotions as generalized as he can, relying on facts rather than emotion, it's what you have to do when you're in the corporate world. The world will believe facts over sentiments any day, it's what you can prove on paper what matters. So it became a habit for him. Ever since his university years, his job managed to solidify those beliefs. Mindlessly stimulate his brain with numbers and graphs until he's just too tired to feel at the end of the day.

Too tired to function.

Two days after your progressive 'movie' night with Nanami, he wakes up earlier than usual, assuring to call out from work for a few hours. He could never not take the day off, wouldn't allow himself.

“So, Nanami, I heard you went on vacation. How did that go?” The woman in front of him smiles, resting her bullet point pen against the spine of her notebook. She doesn't write at this moment, and she knows Nanami is observing if whether or not she'll write this conversation down.

"It went well," he replies, noticing her strands of hair are a darker shade than Gojo's. "I... I went to Boston, with my partner."

“A partner?” Her eyebrows raise in surprise, “You never mentioned you were seeing someone. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

“How long have you been together? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Two months.”

Technically, it wasn’t a lie. They met in June and July was already here, so that did count as two months.

If you were stretching the truth.

“What did the two of you do in Boston? My husband and I haven’t been to a red socks game in forever and the lobster at Neptune Oyster is to die for.”

“We visited the Aquarium,” Nanami focuses on the patchwork of her coat, “and we took a boat tour as well.”

“Sounds like the two of you are compatible.”

“What makes you say that, Doctor?”

“You strike me as a relaxed fellow, Nanami. I’m sure your partner is the same? Unless she’s more enthusiastic, of course.” she holds a knowing smile, “because I could see that working out.”

“She’s…" Nanami searches for the words, "smart, well intentioned, independent, compassionate...”

“Sounds like a determined woman if you ask me.” the professional points out with a short chuckle. “It also sounds like she’s someone special because I’ve never heard you talk so highly about anyone. Not like your co-worker,” she notices Nanami roll his eyes, making her bite back a smile.

“Has this partner positively affected your day-to-day life?”

“She makes me look forward to coming back home,” he replies.

“Oh, so the two of you live together?”

Nanami freezes, fuck.

“We... uh… we made the decision to move in before Boston…”

“So is that like a honeymoon thing?” she asks, genuinely curious, “Because I know younger people like to skip the-”

“-It was just for fun,” he quickly clarifies, “the trip.” and the word fun rolls off his tongue with such foreignness that even he can feel a shift in the room.

A moment passes by before the woman smiles at him.

“Well, that’s good to hear.” she says before adjusting a photo of her with a young man, Nanami presumes, no older than 21 wearing a cap and gown.

“That’s my son,” she grins, following Nanami's eyes, unashamed to show off her son, “Michael, 21. Graduated in Economics from NYU. I believe you were a student there as well?”

“Only for Law.”

“Oh, so you’re a Lawyer?”

“No." He shakes his head, "I dropped after my 2nd year.”

“Change of career?”

“More like change of life,” he answers dryly, “My… my father was a Lawyer, and he owned a law firm of his own…”

“Then... what happened?"

"I… I’m not a good person," Nanami's voice feels caught through his windpipes. It is only then when Nanami decides to take the covers off. He thinks that if he were ever to unveil such personal detail of his life, then everyone around him would flee, and see him as the bastard he deserves to be called.

"I’m not a good person because... I ruined someone’s life."

“This is a lovely painting," Nobara sighs in content, "tell me, where in the world did your boyfriend buy this for you?”

As you and your interior designer admired your painting from the living room, you couldn’t help but stiffen as she was not aware of any arrangements you had with Nanami, like the fact the two of you slept in separate bedrooms. Nobara had suggested you hang the painting in your ‘shared’ bedroom', but the idea was immediately thrown out the window along with placing the painting in the hallway.

“It was at an auction in Boston,” the palm of your hand rests on the back of your neck, “I actually didn’t know it was an auction until Nanami and I reached the end of the art gallery.”

“Wow, so you’re telling me he had to bargain for this baby?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say-”

“-Did he compete with anyone? What was the starting bid?” You could see the apparent interest in her voice that made your cheeks warm. Nobara’s passion for art and design peeked through the cracks of her voice, dying for an answer.

“It was a starting bid of $12,500 and there was just one bidder apart from him.”

“How much did he pay for it?” she asked.

“$25,000 dollars.”

The realization of your confession didn’t sink until after Nobara’s widened eyes. You lucky girl! No wonder why you were so quiet and against putting this baby in your bedroom! You want your guests to see this work!

Nobara’s hands were freshly moisturized that you could see the glistening lotion through the sun’s rays hitting her skin. The large windows to your shared apartment were expansive, granting you and anyone who stepped foot into your home an impressive view of San Francisco. Large buildings, primarily from tech-related businesses to the view of the Golden Gate Bridge itself. If you tilted your head a little more to the right, you could see the full bridge, but you stood place as you heard Nobara’s words of excitement for you.

“I can’t believe this marks the end of our project, I was really hoping to do more, but-”

“-wait,” you stop her, “maybe there is. I’ve been wanting to do something, but I’d like your word on it. C-can I take you upstairs? To the rooftop, that is?”

That day, you learned that it was possible to impress Nobara Kugisaki with your words, allowing her into your home was already a delight for her, so you would only hope she would accept your idea as you took her to the rooftop of the building.

“It’s a bit dusty up here,” you admit, “who knows when the last time anyone came up here was, but can we fix this? Maybe add a small furniture piece or even fairy lights?”

“We can do that,” Nobara softly kicked the leg of one of the abandoned plastic chairs with the point of her boot. She turned to you.

“By when do you want this complete?”

“Before the 4th of July.”

“That’s possible...” she contemplates, “...but I do want one thing.”

Your eyes widen at her first ever request, “what is it?”

"Take a picture with Nanami outside," she smiles. "I'll check when the best hour for firework sightings is, but I'm pretty sure this rooftop has one of the best views in San Franciso." She suggests, possibly reading your mind, "Plan a picnic with him out here, get all romantic, and enjoy yourself. That's all I want to see- a happy couple in love."

Her words make you blush, filling your heart with hope, and maybe something more. This idea could work. You could do something special for Nanami, make his day worth something, and fulfill your obvious role as his fake girlfriend. But were you taking your role too seriously? You could care less, focusing instead on the details for Saturday. Hopeful for a successful... date?

"A little birdie told me someone's turning a year older todayy," Gojo's words echoed as Nanami worked in his desk, arriving to his desk, Satoru plops down a party hat, a few decorative birthday accessories that were probably way too much, and a birthday candle- the kind that exaggeratingly lights up like a firework.

A few days after Nanami's appointment, he had been extra cordial around you. And as expected, he was not home during the hours you were up, either leaving too early or arriving too late. He was thankful for your understanding, and the lunch break messages would now appear every 2-3 days. Nanami figured you were either giving him the space he needed, or you were too busy to message. Either way, he was grateful no one had made a big deal about this as much.

"So tell me," Gojo leans forward and rests his elbows on top of Nanami's paperwork, "What will Nanami Kento do tonight? Does he have a date? Is he seeing his girlfriend?"

Knowing he was striking a chord, Nanami grunts, giving him a displeased look until he freezes, noting the small loaf of banana bread he would frequent from his favorite bakery. His shoulders visibly relaxed. "How did you know."

"It's easy to figure out your birthday, also Facebook has these crazy reminders- you should try them out. The other day I forgot it was my Grandma's birthday and that website came in clut-"

"-I didn't need to know all of that information," Nanami says, then sighs, "but... thank you."

Astonished by his oddly accepting demeanor, Satoru's eyes widen. "Wait- don't tell me- did something happen with your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfr-"

"-Side chick,"

"She's not a side chick."

"Okay... uh... friends with benefits?"

"I'm offended you think I might even consider that,"

"Okay, sheesh." Satoru huffs a piece of stray hair from his forehead, "Lady friend," he hears no complaint from Nanami and Satoru takes this as a silent victory. "I assume you guys are going out?"

"In this weekend?" Nanami questions, "it's a holiday, traffic is horrible, and I'd rather stay in."

"God," Satoru makes a noise of disgust, "I forgot how boring you can be. Let's hope Mrs. Lady-Friend makes something out of this," he says as he now stands, leaning against the desk. A long moment passes as he now eyes the banana loaf.

"Now give me a smile because I've got to take a photo with my best co-worker buddy,"

It isn't until past 11 when Nanami comes home exhausted that he notices you're still miraculously up. With a bun of messy hair, the laptop charger sitting under on the table gives him the impression that you've been here for some time. “You came.”

“I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

“You didn’t.” you exhale, “I figured you’d show up.”

Nanami suddenly feels her stare at him harder, “Whose birthday was it?”

“Huh?" he asks before looking down at his chest, crap. He forgot to take off the decorations Satoru made him wear. Both a party hat and birthday shoulder sling decorate his upper body.

"A-a coworker of mine wanted to celebrate my birthday.” he awkwardly stands.

“It... it’s your birthday?”

“It’s fine,” he regrets saying it was his birthday now, “I-I even forgot it was my own.”

“But I didn’t know,” she mutters to herself in self-disappointment. “I… I should have asked…”

“It’s fine, we never really got to that part in our relationship.”

“But I should have known,” she defends with a slight frown, “It’s… it’s my job to make this relationship feel easy-” He suddenly cuts you off.

“-This is not a job that should feel like it’s a burden. It’s not your fault. Blame me too, I don’t know your birthday either.”

“But you’re always so busy…”

Not for you, he wants to say. Instead, he takes a step forward, placing his hands at the sides of her arms in reassurance. This is what couples do, right?

“Don’t give yourself a headache over this.” He tells you, your breathing deepens when his hands massage her arms. Nanami notices you're uncertain by the way she turns to her feet.

“Look at me,” he softly says.

“None of this was under your control.”

Taking you by surprise, he presses your body against his, arms wrapping themselves around your waist, and your face buries itself on his chest.

“I know," you breathe, " ’m sorry.”

“Why on earth are you apologizing for?”

"I don't know... I feel like I failed you.''

"There's no way you failed me, sweet girl." he says, softly placing a gentle hand on the back of your head as you lean against him, eyes closed and mind too full to notice what was going on right now. "I should've discussed holidays and birthdays with you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to become so taxing for you." glancing down towards you he speaks once more. "How about we do something this weekend, hm? go out?"

"Mhm," you hum, feeling him pull you closer, not saying anything yet as you had plans and surprises in store for him. ''You came late today."

"I did,"

“Will you be working tomorrow?” a gleam of hope surpasses your eyes, “it’ll be the 4th.”

Nanami shrugs, “I fail to see how that’s a holiday worth celebrating given this country’s historical and current standing.” he pauses, face softening, “but I’ll make an exception. Did you have something planned already?”

“Sorta,” you bite the inside your cheek, “but it doesn’t have to 4th of July focused, we can just celebrate your birthday.”

“Okay,” he breathes, “so what did you have in mind?”

“Can’t tell you,” you smile, “it’s a surprise.”

He chuckles, "Of course. Well... I'll be off tomorrow at 4, will that work for you?"

"It sounds perfect."

"Very well," you can't really see if the corner of his lip tugs upwards in the dim light, but you imagine it does by the sound of his voice. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yes," you breathe, breathless almost. "Don't work too hard, okay?"

As he makes his way towards his room, he thinks, for you? this is nothing.

a/n: I am terrible with taglists. I promise I will redo them. let me know in the comments if you'd like to be tagged/removed.

tag list: @mishroses @musegonemad @sweetteez @kachowness @summerli-u @r0ses4ndlilies @justoutheretrynaread @citrusteaa @fic-for-readers

previous // next

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen #nanami #kento #kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami headcanons #nanamin #satoru #jjk nanami #jjk kento #jjk nanami kento #nanami x reader #sugar daddy nanami #sugar daddy kento #sugar daddy nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

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AITA for wanting my classmates to get screwed?

💕💕💕

I am in new media classes at a technical(?) school. My classmates and I have had several weeks to work on an audio replacement project. I finished within the first few days, however my classmates have not finished. The Due date is tomorrow.

The reason I know they haven’t finished is because I’m one of the voice actors needed for the project- I have the 2nd most lines. Out of the 14 in this class (and 10 doing the project) only 4/5 have actually asked me to record.

Here’s where i might be the asshole, I was talking to my folks about how i’m excited for tomorrow (the due date) and the inevitable failure several will have for this project. I haven’t voiced these, and i haven’t stopped anyone from recording with me. I just also haven’t been encouraging them to ask me, because that’s not my job yk? not my fault they can’t manage assists and time!

My folks basically said i was an awful person for taking joy out of others suffering- but im not inflicting anything AND they’ve had plenty of time for this (almost three weeks!) So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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jobtamizhan · 2 years

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CSIR Madras Complex Recruitment 2022 Project Associate Vacancy

CSIR Madras Complex Recruitment 2022 Project Associate Vacancy #jobtamizhan #govtjobs #governmentrecruitment #centralgovtjobs #tnpsc #upsc #ssc

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nalyra-dreaming · 2 months

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The arm is not Daniel's!

For one thing it doesn't look like Eric Bogosian's arms,

but more importantly an interviewer on a professional production wouldn't hold the production slate, that's a 2nd AD or set assistant. Daniel is sitting somewhere off camera with a mic wired to him and on the mark for the camera that's projecting him in front of Lestat, he's likely got a clipboard with some notes for the interview, he's not doing technical jobs.

Yeah, that makes more sense to me as well.

And IF that assistant has a tattoo like that then that would make more sense. More, but I still think it's a joke for us^^.

#bittersuites #ask nalyra #iwtv s3 #iwtv #amc iwtv #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire s3

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treysimp · 2 years

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i’m sick as a dog rn (i think it’s just a cold but it’s got me DOWN) and was wondering if you could do headcanons of either the second or third years taking care of a sick reader 😭

Aww! Me too lovely! Self-indulgence coming right up! 🛎🍳

Taking Care of You When You're Sick 🤧(GN!Reader/Octavinelle: Azul, Floyd, Jade)

Rating: G

Tags: Reader’s body not described nor are pronouns used, fluff, reader has a cold, Floyd says something suggestive but nothing actually happens haha, implied pining.

Words: 2k

Author’s notes: I ended up writing a short story rather than headcanons, whoops? Snipped it to just the Octotrio due to the length, haha. I just came down with a cold too, (as if just having recovered from surgery wasn't enough lol) so we can both project onto some cute fish boys to drown our sorrows together. 😖

Want more TWST? Here’s my masterlist!

Azul Ashengrotto:

He has no idea what to do (affectionate). Azul will notice your absence from daily activities fairly quickly. He had the schedules memorized of the more ah... let's call them 'notable' students, and that includes you. Grim had been attending classes, but if anyone asked him where you were he would just say something about him 'not being your babysitter'. This was technically correct because you were in fact, Grim's babysitter, but it wasn't worth the breath one would waste arguing with him.

By overhearing the conversation between some of your socially impaired first-year groupies, it appeared you were sick. This bothered him greatly. Humans were much more susceptible to disease than mermen and pathetic as it was, he felt a tinge of charity pull at his heart upon hearing that you were ill. He supposed that he could visit.

Armed with a ‘how to take care of a sick human’ article on his phone, a reusable bag, and a full wallet, he raided Sam’s shop for all of the things that are supposed to make even the frailest of humans feel better. He debated calling in Jade and Floyd for their assistance in taking care of you, but he decided the snide comments of the twins weren’t worth the possible benefits. If you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself after all. Armed with soup, tissues, multiple types of medicine, and hot and cold patches, Azul makes his way to Ramshackle.

He knocks, but no response. He supposed he should have guessed as much, it’s not like the ghosts would answer and Grim is doing whatever that fiery tanuki does on the daily.

“Prefect?” He called, pushing on the doorknob to find it unlocked. With a shrug he traipses inside, scanning around the lounge, the bathroom, and the kitchen. It was beaten to hell, but there was a charm to the small things you had littered around the place to make it feel like home. A tied rag potholder here, a stained apron there, he felt a small smile spread across his face. Cute. Terribly kitsch and with no sense of room appeal, but cute.

A floorboard creaked upstairs, and he figured that was where you might be. Azul headed up the stairs and softly called your name, hearing a loud ‘BWUH’ come behind a door that he assumed was yours. Knocking softly, he called out to you again.

“May I come in?” He asked, plastering on his proper salesman face. You so owed him for this display of goodwill.

“A-Azul? Uh, yeah.” You called, voice audibly hoarse and nasally.

Azul swept into your room and set down his bag of goods, sweeping over your room curiously for information. It was the cleanest room in the whole house, but that was like saying that you got second place out of three entries. There were your books and schoolwork, some knickknacks and souvenirs that your friends had undoubtedly given you, but it was otherwise quite bare. As to be expected, he supposed. After a moment of silence, his eyes finally fell on you. Your eyes were red and glassy, your lips chapped, and you were covered in goosebumps. He felt his heart skip a beat.

Wait, what…?

Azul slapped his hand to his chest instinctually, surprised at the sudden feeling that was washing over him. On the other hand, you looked at him with ever-increasing skepticism.

“How can I help you Azul?” You rasp, eyes flicking between his face and the bag that he had dropped on your floor. Azul looked a little flushed. Was it hot in here? Your fever was making it difficult to tell.

“I just ah…” Azul began, his pulse fluttering as he looked for a good explanation. “I just wanted to…”

Your brow was raised amusedly. How often did anyone get to see Azul of all people be at a loss for words?

“I just wanted to make sure that someone had thought to take care of you… since you’re alone here, and all.” He finished, the flush on his cheekbones darkening. He thought back to the times that his family had taken care of him when he was sick, and also the times that they hadn’t. The times that he was alone. And you, you were always that alone, weren’t you?

“Please allow me to help you… on the house.” He finished, eyes looking anywhere but at you.

“I see.” You say. You eye his bag, his expression, the way his hair was windswept in an uncharacteristic way, “Thank you, Azul.”

“You’re… very welcome.”

Floyd Leech:

He has no idea what to do (insult). Azul had returned from Ramshackle earlier that day in an uncharacteristically spacey mood, and he had a suspicion that it had something to do with you. Telling Jade that he was heading out, he walked to the decrepit building. Opening the door without knocking, he saw that one of Azul’s bags was on the table. Huh.

Rifling through the contents, he found supplies for human colds. Putting two and two together, his face curled into a smirk.

“Azul is making shrimp scampi, huh?” He giggled, cracking himself up with his joke. The soup was chicken noodle, but you had to work with the material you were given. Waltzing his way upstairs to your room, he slammed the door open, which woke you up with a start.

“W-what? Floyd?” You yelled, holding your blanket to your chest in surprise.

There was a slight sliver of skin exposed from the buttons of your pajama top had come loose. Floyd’s eyes flicked to your slipping collar and then back to your face, giggling while he strode forward, flopping to a seat next to you.

“Shrimpy, what is it about you, huh?” He asks, getting dangerously close to your face as his eyes scan for any microexpression that might give away your secret.

“You’re just so… different, aren’t you?” He asked, trailing a finger down the line between your ribs. You frowned and slapped his hand away.

“Floyd, I’m too tired for your weird teasing, okay? Get away, I don’t want to get you sick too.” You chide, trying to push him to his feet and off of your bed with your germy self.

Floyd clicked his tongue, “Aww, don’t be like that. Idiots don’t get colds you know? I’ll be fine.” He said with a grin, the low light sparkling off of his pointed teeth.

You frowned. You highly doubted that but you also knew so little about mermen that he might be right? Ugh, why was everything so confusing?

“Aww, your face is so cute.” Floyd cooed, squishing your cheeks like dough. “Should I sleep here with you? Will that make you feel better?” He asked, getting uncomfortably close again.

“Flowyed, stut upf.” You whined, words muffled by Floyd’s vice grip on your face.

“Fish are cold-blooded, you know? I’d be like an ice pack for your feverish ‘Lil head.” He continued, seemingly convincing himself more than you about why this was such a good idea.

“If you’re really good, we can snuggle naked?”

“FLOYD!”

“Fine, fine, you’re no fun,” Floyd sighed, finally standing up and walking towards your hall. He looked over his shoulder at you as he was closing the door, a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

“I’ll come to sleep with you when you’re well instead. Later!” He cackled, slamming the door shut to shield himself from the pillow you had tried to lob directly at your face.

Feeling even warmer than you had a minute ago, you collapsed in a huff and yelled into your pillow in frustration.

This freaking eel was going to kill you.

Jade Leech:

Something was apparently in the air today, because both Azul and Floyd had gone to visit the Ramshackle Prefect. Jade had to admit that he was quite fond of them, their naïveté about the world they had found themself in was quite entertaining to watch, especially as it pertained to non-humans such as himself. One day they had taken multiple hours to quiz him about merpeople, their food, their culture, and even their anatomy. Jade had offered a “demonstration” on the anatomy portion, but they had sadly refused his kindness. A pity.

Both Azul and his brother had returned with significant mood changes. Azul had returned in a strangely introspective mood, staring dazedly out the windows with his brows knit in thought and then locking himself in his office for the last few hours, clearly wrapped up in some sort of project.

On the other hand, while Floyd was similarly distracted, he seemed quite frustrated. He was being fairly active on campus, running around in search of stimulation. Jade recognized this as being one of Floyd’s many coping mechanisms when he was actively trying to distract himself. How very interesting.

Walking up to Ramshackle, Jade was distracted by the thought of how the gloomy and decrepit building could be well utilized as a greenhouse for some tricky plants he had hoped to cultivate. He filed away that thought for later, perhaps the Prefect would be willing to trade him some growing space in one of the spare rooms at a later date. He would just need to think of something that they wanted enough to give it to him. Well, he was here anyway, might as well try and find out.

Entering the charming hovel of the entryway, Jade notices the Prefect’s shoes discarded next to the doorway. He certainly did not trust the floor enough to do the same.

Walking up the stairs, Jade decided that the best bet would be simply to beeline to the Prefect. He had brought his mushroom risotto along with him, thinking that you might appreciate a home-cooked meal when you were ill. The feedback he had received upon serving it in the cafeteria was quite positive from the other humans, so he was about 70% sure this particular species of fungi was not lethal to your species. Well, the ones from here at least. That is what the other 30% is for.

Rapping his knuckles lightly on the door, he heard a quiet ‘come in’ from inside the room. Jade turned the knob and let himself inside, holding up the thermos with risotto in one hand and one with peppermint tea in another.

“I apologize for the intrusion.”

“Jade?” You ask, “Wow, I think I’ve had more visitors from Octinavelle today than when you all tried to steal this place.” You graveled, weak cough shaking your body as you laugh.

Jade gives you a warm, genuine smile. His face crumples into a melodic laugh, a real one, and he covers his face to stifle the sound.

“Well, the location is still quite ideal if you ever change your mind.” He says, stepping forward to place the food he brought on your nightstand. “Food and drink, I get the feeling that you might not make some otherwise.”

You look wide-eyed at the two containers, carefully picking them up and unscrewing the caps to see the contents. Through your stuffed-up nose you could smell a hint of mint, and the risotto looked decadently buttery.

You looked to Jade, and he motioned to the attached cutlery. Taking a wary bite, your mouth was met with something both delicious, hearty, and oddly familiar. Had you had this before? Your heart skipped a beat at how tender this moment felt. Jade’s eyes looked lidded and fond while tears threatened to well up in the corners of your eyes.

“I-I really needed this, I think.” You say, your ‘D’s sounded like ‘B’s due to your stuffy nose. “Thank you very much, Jade.”

Jade nods, looking pleased. You continue eating your fill and then allow Jade to gather his dishes, promising that he will come again soon with another dish. You were fairly excited at the prospect.

Jade pauses for a moment at the door, seemingly in thought. He returns to your side, but before you can question him, you feel a warm peck at your forehead.

“Feel better.”

Jade leaves as fast as he came in. You sit there flustered and confused.

Is this just a merman thing or what?

Pray for me! I hate phlegm with my entire body, I want to die and to kill at the same time. Why hast mine own body forsaken me?

What did you think? suggestions, feedback? LMK!

Love you, reader!

Requested Tags:

@certe-cose, @readinganas, @yandere-kou, @daeda21, @sideofblog, @buckketboy, @kxhyuns, @aikochan4859, @kumiko-desu, @destinationdesignation, @star-gods, @fragmentedstarlight, @sarahyumiko2, @sappyisyourpappy, @sunnyseaside, @bunntsu, @rebel-faes-writing, @stillserene, @witch-waycult, @fr0llo, @bluesylveon2, @dari-kun, @kit4kat256, @riddle-simp, @fightmecowardlmao, @lovelynai, @chillywinterbreeze, @venniin, @acherrytart, @naniky,

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hmshermitcraft · 8 months

Note

Every hermit has a domain they rule over. Pearl watches over the moon, Grian watches over the sun. Scar's domain is all things created by the mind, knowledge and creativity while Etho is the main god of technical advances and redstone with several deity's underneath him like Mumbo and Tango. Xisuma watches over the void and Gem rules over the hunt and wind. Theres an undescribable amount of them all with their own domains, too many to count.

But they all share a home on their server together and they love to spent time together, as one big pile of goofy people who love each other dearly.

Grian will purposely lead a sunbeam in Mumbos face to tease him, Scar will help out Etho with a small push towards another direction when he is stuck on a project, Gem and Pearl both sit under the moonlight, lying in each others embrace, as the winds blow gently around them.

But they all love each other in all their different and equal ways.

-21Anon

More often than not, Etho whines if somebody dares ask him to do something he isn't interested in doing. Useful advances in technology? Only if it assists whatever idea he wants to complete this time. It drives the other redstone gods mad!

If they did their jobs perfectly, then it would take away a lot of fun in the worlds. Their love is a big part of what makes things so interesting.

#hermitshipping #ask #etho tag #grian tag #scar tag #mumbo tag #polyhermits #21 anon #mod 🎀#weekly theme: gods

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theblackestvalkyrie · 9 months

Text

In Defense of You

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x black!wife!Reader {Alternate Universe}

Summary: A little look into the life Miguel commandeered in the alternate universe filled with snippets and moments of love that ultimately lead to disaster......Or the one where Miguel took his alternate's place and gets you and your family killed. [TW/A/S/F]

Warning: Angst, marital smut, character deaths, murder, pregnancy, squirting, anxiety, Spider-Man 2099 lore HEAVILY referenced, reader body descriptions, insinuations of relationship/marital abuse, POV changes, attempted murder, housewife mentality, low-ish self-esteem reader, depictions of violence, slight OOC Miguel because this is before his family died and he closed himself off, SAPPY SOFT MIGUEL, vomit, bilingual family, Spanish language used but I gave up halfway through lmaoo, Spanish speaking black reader, mentions of alternate universe stuff like tv shows, technical marital cheating, no use of y/n, NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MIGUEL’S FAMILY.

A/N: I was inspired by the movie scene in the gif and then I saw this pic on TikTok and thought it paired well. Realistically, I think the timeline/Source/Universe would have noticed if Miguel was there for too long where he doesn’t belong but I wanted this to make you care about the characters and story so lmaooo. This takes place after Miguel and Lyla create a way to travel through universes and BEFORE he recruits the first Spider-Man (Earth – 67) to his cause. I don’t know what Earth this happened on in the movie so I just made it 22 and also made up that counterpart’s job and any and all allegations of marital abuse.

It started with a morbid curiosity. After he had made the discovery of alternate realities and then the way to travel to them it was only natural for Miguel to want to see those other lives. His own life on Earth-928 hadn’t been anything to be proud of. He had every opportunity in his younger years being almost too smart for his own good. He could have done anything, been anything and he ended up at Alchemax. A megacorporation that was every bit the definition of capitalism and big government all at once. They had their fingers in damn near everything you could buy on the free market.

Alchemax was trying to corner the market on superhuman drugs. They had pretended to care about the well-being and safety of everyone by offering a serum to give people powers like the good old days when superheroes weren’t so rare. The overwhelming demand for this serum led to Alchemax skipping right passed any safety measures and straight to live human trials. So much death and chaos followed giving Miguel a crippling addiction to their serum and his genetics mutated beyond repair.

Again, it was only natural for him to seek other lives. To see what could have been. An that’s when he found Earth-22. He meant to be an observer in the beginning he really did. Meant to blend into the background not even an afterthought to anyone who would glance at him. His assistant Lyla (or LYrate Lifeform Approximation) knew not to say anything about how much time he was spending on that Earth-22 and he never volunteered any information about it, opting to keep it as a special place for himself.

Of course, Earth-22 wasn’t all that special except you. Nothing in those alternate universes had captured his attention so fiercely as you did. He hadn’t known you in his reality. If he had maybe he wouldn’t be the broken addicted man he was today.

You were everything he wanted in a life partner and then some. You dealt with a lot while holding down the household and raised your daughter Gabriella with more love and care than Miguel recognized in his own childhood.

You didn’t have many friends and rarely went out except for when it came to taking Gabriella out or running errands. Despite this seemingly monotonous life, you never let it affect you in a negative way and if you did, you never let it show. Miguel didn’t know if it that was admirable or stupid.

While you were seen as a goddess in Miguel’s eyes, his counterpart on the other hand was a disappointment. The Miguel of Earth-22 was everything he was not. Ignorant of the needs of his wife and even more so of their daughter. Instead, he pretended to be a man of integrity. Everything he did seemed to contradict what he said. He said he would take less hours at work yet he was working at Alchemax, another fact that blew Miguel’s mind, and in fact would double down on how much he worked while making excuses to his family.

He said he loved his wife yet he was fucking one of the clinical laboratory scientists that he worked with.

He said he loved his daughter yet he rarely spent any time with her and if asked probably couldn’t even tell you her age.

What a fucking disappointment.

Then it was like the universe answered his prayers. The alternate version of him was killed trying to stop a purse snatcher as cliché as that was. He had lived his whole life as an asshole and tried to redeem all that negative karma with a failed purse snatching attempt. All Miguel could see was your reaction to his doppelganger’s death. How devastated you and your daughter, Gabriella, who was only seven would be. How would you make ends meet? The Earth-22 Miguel was the main breadwinner of the family so how would you fair then? Would little Gabriella even remember her father? There were too many what ifs for Miguel to think clearly. His current life on Earth-928 was over thanks to the need to lay low after the blowout with Alchemax and becoming the new Spider-man, this was the fresh start Miguel needed and he did the only thing he could think of on short notice. He blended in.

You hummed happily under your breath as you soaped up a plate in the sink letting the background noise of Gabriella’s children’s show lull your mind to wander. Any minute now your husband Miguel would be home from work and then you would talk to him about it. Lately you felt like Miguel has been wondering. Not in terms of cheating that you knew of but lately things have been souring between you two. He wouldn’t hold you as closely anymore as he often did. The sex and kisses were pretty much non-existent and would only happen when you initiated it. It was starting to make you feel self-conscious and ugly. You knew your body was just a little bit off from giving birth to Gabriella and after she turned five you decided to get back into shape. This proved to be much more difficult to balance a relationship, household, personal needs AND a rambunctious toddler but you were proud of yourself for making it this far and keeping things together. But the relationship with Miguel was deteriorating lately and you wanted to do something to reconnect with him.

The sound of the front door opening broke you from your thoughts and you hurriedly dried your hands on a dishtowel and made your way to the living room. Gabriella had beaten you to Miguel first and was giggling excitedly already swept up into his large chest.

“Daddy, I missed you!”

Miguel peppered little kissed across her face before hugging her even tighter not saying a word. Eventually Gabriella had enough.

“Daddy, you’re squeezing too hard!” she frowned and kicked her little legs in mock protest although she made no real move to get out of his arms.

“Sorry honey.” Miguel laughed as he let her go and watched her scamper back to her place on the couch and completely enthralled with her show.

You moved from your hiding place in the kitchen archway pulling his attention from Gabriella and onto you. You shivered feeling his eyes pierce right through. It felt like he was looking straight into and through your soul and every hidden dark corner of your being.

“Hi…” Your voice trails off and cracks under the pressure of his gaze. If he noticed it, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he crosses the gap between you and into your personal space.

Miguel cradles your face tenderly breath fawning over your face lightly. His body seemed so much harder and chiseled then you remembered and being so close to Miguel after so long send a sharp tingle to your core. You were suddenly so much more aware of how badly your body had been neglected. Up close he looked so much more different than you remember. Harder, like there was a wall up or some kind of hurt that was still raw and emotional.

“Hi.” His eyes raked over your face as if to commit them to memory.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks suddenly confusing you.

You had never really asked Miguel to ask consent before and he never really asked. Things just kind of happened between you. You never even thought you could deny your husband access to your body.

You bit your lip in thought nodding shyly at his words and he grinned in triumph.

He met your lips kissing you softly as if for the first time making you gasp wantonly into his open mouth. He was making your head spin until Gabriella’s giggle at her show broke you apart. The last time you saw Miguel being this gentle with you was when you first started dating and you would be the biggest liar in the world if you said you didn’t miss the treatment.

Despite this you still wanted to talk to him about your relationship.

“Can we talk after dinner?”

He looked concerned but nodded pressing a lingering kiss to your temple.

All throughout dinner he didn’t want to let go of your hand opting to eat with one hand and only letting go when you absolutely had to eat your food. Miguel was also much more attentive to Gabriella even going so far as to help her cut up her vegetables and listen to the stories about her time spent at the park that morning. He even cracked jokes and asked questions about your day. You were in awe it was like you had married a whole different man. After the meal, Miguel even washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen after sending you off to put Gabriella to bed with a tender kiss to both you and your daughters’ temples.

“You’ve had a long day mi amor (my love). I’ve got it from here.”

His actions and words made you feel loved in more than the seven years you’ve been married. You both got ready for bed although he was a lot slower than most nights and you both slipped under the sheets of your shared queen size bed.

“We still need to talk.”

The way Miguel had been acting since he had gotten home had filled you with the confidence to be open and vulnerable with him now. So, you told him. About how you didn’t feel like yourself physically. How the pressures of raising a child while he worked all day, while running the entire household without his help was taking you into the beginning stages of a depression you didn’t think you could get out of. How the sex between you two was non-existent and you felt how much he had loved you today. How it felt like it had been before the babies and the bills and the seemingly endless responsibility of it all was taking over.

Miguel didn’t hesitate to cross the bed and gather you in his arms in a strong hug.

He began apologizing profusely not making and excuses for the past behavior and verbally committing to being a better husband and father. You had no reason not to believe him as this was the first-time bringing these issues to him yet he took it better than you thought.

“I don’t ever want you to feel this way again mi amor(my love). You and Gabriella are the most important things in my life. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without you both. Mi corazón es perfecto porque tú estás dentro de él (My heart is complete because you are in it). I want you to feel as loved as you have made me feel. No puedo vivir sin ti (I cannot live without you). Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

And show you he did. The sex that night was like no other with Miguel being more attentive and loving as ever. You lost count of how many times he made love to you that night and how many times you came.

You tried to keep it down for Gabriella’s sake you really did but the things Miguel was doing with his tongue were making things difficult. Miguel’s lips were wrapped around your clit suckling like a newborn calf while he worked your opening over with three thick fingers.

“Give me another orgasm baby I know you can. Quiero sentirlo (I want to feel it).”

With a quiet sob you came around his fingers shaking and quivering. Quickly, Miguel rose to his knees on the mattress and spread your legs wide bending them at the knees into an M shape before grinding against your slick heat.

“You think you can take some more baby?”

You were already past your limits tonight never having been this sexually worn out in your life but you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else right now but underneath your husband.

“Por favor, sí, lo necesito (Please, yes, I need it)!”

Miguel slipped his cock into you giving you a second to adjust before he started thrusting into you at a steady pace. The curve of his shaft was made for your insides as you molded around him perfectly and his cock head rubbed the spongy mound of your g-spot deliciously.

Immediately you start creaming around him the moans in your voice getting louder and louder not even thinking about the child sleeping down the hall.

But Miguel did and with his hand over your mouth and his face in your neck he sang praises of devotion and love to you while he pulled another blinding orgasm from your body.

He held you down into a mating press and pounded your shaking form into the mattress harder when you began to squirt around him drenching the lower half your bodies and the bed. Miguel kissed the tears streaming down your face as he whispered more words of affirmations rocking into you slowly.

“Eres mi todo (You are my everything”).

Miguel was cheating on you. The Miguel of Earth-22 had been having a whole ass extramarital affair with his co-worker and Miguel had forgotten. He had been so enthralled with you and Gabriella that he had completely forgotten about the mistress problem.

Marisol Medina was a newly hired clinical laboratory scientist working in the same department as Miguel as his subordinate. On Earth-928 Miguel had worked in the genetics department and it seemed Earth-22 was the same. The only difference being that Alchemax wasn’t creating super serums here and his doppelganger had actually been the head of the Genetics Department which in retrospect was an HR nightmare. That meant that Earth-22 Miguel had hired Marisol in the first place. Maybe he hired her in the hopes of taking her on as a mistress? Which made sense because if he was being honest Marisol’s job could have been done by a slightly trained chimpanzee. It made Miguel sick to even think about.

Marisol was everything you weren’t. She at least a foot taller and a few pounds thinner having never had children nor the natural curves you were genetically blessed with. Instead of the natural curls and headwraps he loved on you, Marisol had thick wavy auburn hair running down her back. She couldn’t speak Spanish as well as you could, Miguel would find out later that this was a complete lie in order to get closer to him, and in fact that was apparently how they had connected in the first place. Of course, he had to nip that in the bud quick and started treating her like a co-worker and less like a mistress.

Miguel had waited until he was the last one in the office to approach her. Predictably, Marisol had stayed behind too. He had been successfully ignoring any attempts that didn’t have to do with work and ignored her phone calls outside of work even going so far as to block the number.

She had approached him with tears in her eyes and Miguel cringed internally at the cruel nature of it all.

“What’s going on Miguel? First you ignore me at work and now you won’t pick up my calls? What did I do wrong?!”

Miguel sighed, “I love my wife, Marisol. Whatever thing we had is over. I’m sorry we had anything in the first place.”

Marisol covered her mouth in a barely contained sob as he continued. Might as well rip the rest of the Band-Aid off.

“You can still keep your job if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m not that much of an asshole. From now on I’m your boss not your boyfriend. It’s over.”

He left but not before catching the blank look on Marisol’s face through the tears. If Miguel had been a more observant man, he would have seen the hatred and revenge brewing behind her eyes.

With Marisol taken care of, Miguel toyed with the idea but ultimately gave up the idea of even being Spider-Man in this universe. Not only did he have a crippling addiction to Rapture, thanks to a blackmail attempt by the Alchemax of his original universe, but would it take too much time away from his new family. This was the break he needed. Away from the chaos of being Spider-Man and back to where he belonged. With Gabriella and you. And why shouldn’t he treat you both as if this was his reward for every fucked up twisted thing that had happened to him? You both deserved happiness and so did Miguel.

Still, he had to take those fucking Rapture injections. Getting time away to dip into the stash he had stolen were getting low. Not critically but enough for Miguel to go back to his original Earth and bring back more. Developing more was out of the question. Alchemax had mad it nearly impossible for it to be recreated outside their labs. Even if he wanted to, he would need to have equipment in the home. With you being a stay-at-home mom, there was no way you would ignore a gigantic laboratory setup in the house.

With added trips to Eath-928 for Rapture and Miguel assimilating to his doppelganger’s life, your little family slowly fell into a comfortable routine.

One year had passed and your family was flourishing. Gabriella was now eight and showing an interest in soccer. Miguel was still showing you the love and appreciation you had asked for and this made the relationship flourish. You finally felt like the energy was being reciprocated and you couldn’t be happier. On top of all of this you found out you were pregnant.

Miguel had actually cried when he found out which threw you because he hadn’t done the same when you were pregnant with Gabriella. You just chalked it up to the heart-to-heart conversation you had last year and didn’t think too hard on it.

Family trips had become more recent as of late and this just added to the happy feeling all around. Today was a trip to the beach, something that was seriously needed in the summer months.

“Em, hurry up we’re gonna be late!”

Gabriella’s soccer ball came flying down the stairs the same time as she did and you would have laughed if the ball hadn’t flown over your head and grazed the mirror hanging in the foyer.

“What did I say about balls in the house!?” You scolded her smoothing the curls of her head as she passed to grab her ball.

“Not to do it in the house. But I want to bounce it on my head like the real players!”

She demonstrated this by attempting to balance the ball on her head but you quickly grab it and replace it with a kiss instead.

“If you practice soccer, you won’t be able to go to the beach today. You don’t even have your sandals on!”

This seemed to snapped her out of her soccer haze and she squealed in excitement as she ran to put on her shoes.

As if on cue Miguel pulled into the driveway and bared through the front door with several shopping bags full of snacks and sunscreen. His face lit up at you and he dropped his bags and gathered you in his arms kissing any exposed skin.

“Hi baby.” He dropped you and kissed you hungrily then dropped to his knees and kissed your swollen stomach addressing the unborn child in your womb.

“Hi baby.”

You laughed as the baby pressed against your abdomen to nudge their fathers’ lips and Miguel grinned. At seven months you thought you were huge but Miguel wouldn’t hear it and often kissed your stomach like he did now.

“Did you see that honey? He knows me for sure.”

A boy. You and Miguel had been ecstatic when you had heard and even Gabriella had been excited to have a brother when you both sat down and told her then news.

The beach proved to be an excellent idea. The day was filled with snacks and fun but both you and Gabriella had been tired by the end of it. This left Miguel to pack up the supplies you brought in while you took the trash to the nearby can on the sidewalk.

“Cute family.” You jumped in surprise to find a woman in large sunglasses and a floppy beach hat obscuring her face.

“Oh, thank you!” You grinned watching Miguel help Gabriella stomp on her sandcastle when he was supposed to be packing up the toys and towels.

“How old is she?”

“She’s eight now.” You couldn’t help but gush.

“I have a nephew around her age. Maybe they go to school together?”

Before you could spill anymore of your private life you could hear Miguel shouting for you.

“I better get going Miss?”

“My name is Catherine.” She smiled shaking your hand.

“I’ll see you around Catherine.” You smiled back and waddled back to your family.

“Who was that?” Miguel frowned wrapping a protective arm around your shoulder.

“Just someone who thinks our family is cute.” You tease pinching his side.

Miguel laughs and scoops Gabriella onto his shoulders making her squeal and ignoring the way the vanilla ice cream in her hand dripped down the cone and onto his shirt.

“Well of course they do! Just look at this little sand goblin!” He tickles his daughter’s calves and she laughs and squeals. They make a beautiful picture together and it makes you want to snap a picture so you pull your cellphone out of your bag in the sand and snapped a few before recording a short video as well.

“This is definitely cute.” You laugh at the mess of ice cream on his shirt growing.

“Cariño (honey), help me!” Miguel waves to you in mock terror as Gabriella smashes her ice cream into the side of his face laughing the entire time. As you stopped the video and cleaned Miguel up you couldn’t help but notice a sinister feeling creeping up your spine.

Running into Catherine was becoming such a regular occurrence at this point that you two just started planning things to do together instead. It was nice to have a friend again. An actual girlfriend to confide in the things you couldn’t with Gabriella or Miguel.

This day you and Catherine had planned a much-needed manicure and pedicure day and had ordered from your favorite burger spot. You had been craving it all day and you both had arrived back at Catherine’s house to eat on her patio before moving inside to enjoy the cool air conditioning.

You sighed reclining back in your chair and kicking up your feet enjoying the breeze from the A.C. Miguel had been worried as of late with your perinatal period being considered a moderate risk pregnancy. You had been determined to have a good and relaxing time despite this and Miguel had reluctantly agreed to let you go out.

“I fucked your husband.”

You froze. Your sense of peace absolutely shattered by the whiplash of your friend’s statement.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said I fucked your husband.”

Catherine’s face was strangely blank and emotionless. This was a hard contrast from the smiling funny person she was just minutes ago.

If she was joking or not you genuinely couldn’t tell. You set your drink down and clutched your stomach nervously.

“What the fuck are you taking about? If this is a joke Catherine it’s not very funny.”

“My name’s not Catherine you stupid bitch. It’s Marisol. I’m so sick of pretending to be your friend. Having to hear all about your pathetic little problems and your little brats every fucking day has been driving me crazy.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. This couldn’t be the same woman you had become friends with over the past few months but here she was now out of her seat and towering over you with a disgusted look on her face.

“Miguel’s a liar you know. You can’t trust him. He told me he loved me. That he would leave you and that brat. But he goes and knocks you up.”

Her fist comes swinging in a heavy right hook to the side of your face and you’re on the floor before you can react to the jarring information of your husband’s infidelity. The world spun on its axis and you landed hard on the ground as Catherine now Marisol began kicking the side of your head and back with her boot. Your instincts kick in and you curled up in a ball protecting your stomach from the violent assault. You could feel the anger in each one of her punches and kicks, the pain of it all making you physically vomit on the floor and her boots.

Marisol screamed in disgust and grips a handful of your braids before pushing your face back into the vomit and rubbing you in it like a dog being punished for pissing in the house.

“You nasty fucking bitch! Look what you did to my shoes!”

She drops your limp form into the mess on the floor and spits on you.

“That’s supposed to be my baby you cunt.”

Marisol stepped over you kicking you in the side this time and walked into the kitchen rambling to herself. You knew then that she was going to kill you and your baby. You had to get away. With all of the strength you had left, you crawled to your phone which was now on the floor along with the rest of the contents of your purse.

Just as you touched the phone, you were yanked backwards hard by your legs. A knife in Marisol’s hand flashed menacingly, the jagged tip slicing your arm as you fought back.

“Stay still you fucking bitch. I want my baby.”

Pain bloomed in white searing heat and you saw spots behind your eyelids. You screamed bloody murder in an attempt to get anyone to hear you as the knife began to slice into your side.

Miguel was worried. You had promised him that you were going to call him when you got to your friend’s house. Normally Miguel wouldn’t be so possessive but with the delicate nature of your pregnancy you’re lucky Miguel let you go out at all. Yet you hadn’t called.

Miguel peaked in on Gabriella taking a nap in her room before closing the door and summoning Lyla on his interdimensional watch. Immediately Lyla’s small holographic figure appeared.

“Nice digs Miguel! You’ve made quite a life for yourself here although the style is a little dated.” she judged as her figure flew around the room to various objects obviously excited to be in the space Miguel hadn’t previously allowed her.

“Where is the little rugrat? I’m dying to meet her! She can just call me Auntie Lyla!”

“Cut the shit. I need you to track a phone for me.”

Lyla frowned and studied his face.

“You going back to being Spider-man? The hero we all know and love?”

“Maybe…...She hadn’t checked in.” he answered cryptically ignoring the hopeful tone of her voice typing his missing wife’s number into the watch. Almost immediately on the map popped up a tiny glowing dot where you supposedly were.

“See she’s safe and sound at 426 Herald Way owned by a Marisol Medina.”

Miguel froze, bile rising in his throat. His Spidey senses had been tingling since before you hadn’t checked in but Miguel didn’t want to be controlling like the previous Miguel had been.

“Lyla, I need you to watch Gabriella for me.” He pulled the suit on and flew through the door without a second thought

“Hey I don’t babysit for free!” She shouted after his retreating form.

When you woke up the first thing you thought of was your son. Your movements cause sharp pains to blossom across your body making you cry out in pain. A pair of hands came to cradled you gently. It was Miguel. You could see Gabriella curled up on the hospital couch asleep clutching a stuffed animal snuggled into her blanket asleep which soothed some of the panic but your main concern was your unborn child.

“Baby, can you hear me?”

Immediately you began to cry and Miguel shushed you moving to sit on the bed. Everything that had happened came rushing back to you. You couldn’t calm down seeing your slightly deflated abdomen.

“My baby Miguel. I need my baby.”

He couldn’t survive at almost eight months, could he? All the knowledge from your previous pregnancy with Gabriella and the baby prep books that you had diligently looked over and memorized were nowhere to be found. Instead, your mind spiraled into panic and negativity.

“He’s fine baby he’s in the NICU. I just saw him a few minutes ago he was sleeping. Please lay back for me.”

He gently guided you back down as you continued to cry silently this time.

“Miguel did you cheat on me?” you cried.

His face dropped and for the first time in a year, the illusion of your happy marriage shattered. All this time had Miguel been trying to make up for whatever guilty conscience he had when he had come home that day a suddenly changed man?

Was this pregnancy just meant to distract you from the strange things that Miguel had been doing like leaving at random times?

He thought you didn’t know but you did. That weird watch he never took off even in the shower. The way you would catch him looking at you or Gabriella sometimes. He would get a faraway look in his eyes like he couldn’t believe you were real and in front of him. You had thought that it was love but now you didn’t know who he was anymore.

“Baby I can explain.”

“Save it. I don’t know who you are right now Miguel. I thought I could trust you but that almost cost me and my child’s life. I let this woman into my life. I told her private things about me. I feel violated Miguel. I don’t know if I will ever feel safe again.”

For the first time in your life, you saw Miguel truly cry. You put up walls around your heart so that you could focus on the logic of the situation instead of getting sucked into his tears.

Miguel could sense this and gripped your hands in his.

“I don’t want you to hate me.”

“Just tell me what’s going on!”

So, he told you. About where he’s really from. About the first time he saw you and what really happened to your Miguel. The cheating, the lies, the secrets. It was all revealed. This explained why Miguel had suddenly switched from absent husband and dad to ‘Father-of-the-Year’ in the span of a few hours. Why he went from demanding they all speak Spanish in the home to speaking mostly English and why he never seemed to know where anything was in the house for a few months. He even told you how he dealt with Marisol….

Miguel could smell your blood a block away as he swung through the buildings to Marisol’s home a little outside the city. Crashing through the patio sliding doors, glass flying everywhere, he was met with a scene that confirmed his worst fears.

You were on your back the room covered in your blood. He couldn’t see the shallow rise and fall of your chest but he thought you were dead. Marisol loomed over you still slicing and trying to follow the steps she researched a few weeks ago on how to perform the procedure but she stopped when Miguel barreled in like a bull in a china shop. Fangs out and Rapture coursing through his veins.

“Miguel, you came back!”

Red. All he could see was red and he let his rage take over. Before Marisol could come towards him, he tackled her, hands wrapped around her throat in a death grip.

“Miguel w-wait! I lo-ve yo..ou” She gasped and choked, kicking and scratching at every part of him she could get her hands on.

He didn’t feel it.

All he could think about was the loss of half his family. Their baby boy hadn’t even taken his first breath yet. Hadn’t even been given a fair shot at life. You were dead. How would he tell Gabbie what happened? How would she cope?

It made his blood boil. So, he kept squeezing her neck.

He squeezed even as she started crying and the blood vessels in her eyes started to burst from the pressure.

He squeezed even as she began to piss and shit herself as her tongue and lips swelled.

He squeezed until her head shot across the room and she stopped struggling.

He couldn’t feel anything.

These revelations left you shocked with so many more questions. It made your head spin.

Miguel could see how overwhelming this was for you and sat in silence to give you time to process this. The doctor came in cutting the heavy tension and giving you a rundown of your injuries and permission to visit the NICU when you felt better.

Baby O’Hara, as he was still named, was now ten days old. You had already missed so much when you had been in surgery and then a little recovery time to get the strength to see him. On your first visit you requested to go alone. Everyone had spent one-on-one time with him but you and it added to the feeling of missing out. On your second visit, Gabriella, and much to your slight annoyance Miguel, accompanied you to see the new family member to welcome him together.

Despite his small age, Baby O’Hara had a full head of hair perfectly smoothed and you briefly wondered if he would get your curl pattern as he grew bigger. His size made the wires and tubes seem so much bigger than they were. Despite this, he seemed as strong as ever his little legs kicking with curiosity.

You smile through your tears as you run a hand across the silk stands of his head, down his little chest.

As if he knew you were there, Baby O’Hare grabbed your thumb with surprising strength.

“Would you like to hold him?”

You jump in surprise but nodded eagerly as the nurse, who had been watching the event unfold, comes to the side of your wheelchair and gently folds the front of your hospital gown to expose enough of your chest for the baby but enough to remain modest.

She opens the incubator and expertly places him across your chest for skin-to-skin contact. You can feel your hearts beating together and you cradle him gently to you as Miguel and Gabriella crowd around you.

“He’s so tiny.” Gabriella stares in wonder.

You look at her for a minute just taking in both of your children, making it a point to ignore Miguel’s presence. Your daughter had been through a lot these past few weeks. Miguel hadn’t told her the whole story so all she knew was that she had almost lost both her mother and new brother. It had made her more clingy than normal which you didn’t mind since you could use some close family time.

“Do you want to name him?”

Her face immediately lights up at the idea as she excitedly looks back and forth between you and Miguel.

“Can I really?”

“Absolutely, my love. Anything you want.”

You couldn’t help but to role your eyes at his words. Of course, Miguel would agree with you right now. After everything that happened, he was lucky he was even breathing the same air as you right now.

Gabriella bites her lip for a few minutes taking in her baby brother now fast asleep.

“I pick Benji.”

You can feel Miguel’s confusion but you hold back a laugh already knowing where she was going.

“Why Benji?” Miguel wondered

“If I ever get a dog, I would name them Benji.”

“I love it!” You laughed.

Baby O’Hare was officially named.

It had only been 6 months since everything happened. Couples therapy was going slowly. You were still hesitant to trust Miguel and it was starting to bleed into other aspects of your life. Like trusting him alone to watch the children. Logically you knew this Miguel was different from the one you married but he still could have told you about the mistress Marisol yet he hadn’t.

Miguel knew you didn’t trust him yet he never did anything to trigger you or rush you too forgive him. If anything, he was being more than understanding and you couldn’t tell if it pissed you off or made you fall more in love with him.

Benji, more practically named Benjamín, was doing well as a preemie according to his doctor and so was Gabbie you couldn’t be happier.

Of course, the happiness couldn’t last.

The rumbling started around noon. Benji had just gone down for his nap and Gabriella was home from school for summer break so she was playing in the living room. Your apartment building shook with such fierceness the pan that you had set on the stove to start lunch was thrown to the ground.

Panicked you rushed to grab Gabriella on your way to Benji’s nursery. As if on cue the infant started his high pitch crying obviously mad about the disrupted nap.

You grabbed him as carefully as you could as you all ran underneath the dining table for safety. Earthquakes in Nueva York were nonexistent so you could only imagine what could be happening.

The shaking and rumbling stopped but you didn’t dare get up yet for fear of aftershocks.

“Y/N?!”

It was Miguel decked out in his full Spiderman attire. He had shown you once when you asked but this was different. His face was panicked and he was breathing hard.

“Miguel!” You called to him as he climbed through the living room window and straight to your little family.

“Are you alright?!”

He frantically checked you all over for any sort of wounds before hauling you up careful of the baby still in your arms. He grabbed the baby sling off the couch nearby and helped you and Benji into it. Gabriella was clinging to your leg silent tears running down her face.

“We need to go.”

His eyes were darting everywhere and he looked nervous…. guilty even.

“Miguel what’s going on.”

He sighed in defeat. He swore to never again lie to you.

“It’s my fault. The quakes…everything.”

The ambient noise of Nueva York had changed from the usual city atmosphere to screams of terror and flashing light.

“The universe is collapsing. I didn’t even know this was a possibility. It has to be me…. what I did…”

Terror seized you as Miguel lead you all out on to the fire escape through the open window he entered through. He wrapped your arms around his neck and helped Gabriella onto his back.

“Hold on we’re getting out of here.”

Swinging across the city you quickly realized what the screaming was for. People, cars, well everything was disappearing at an alarming rate. Miguel was swinging his ass off through the city but you knew that while he had the stamina, he couldn’t out run whatever it was forever.

“Miguel, you need to put us down!” You yelled over the wind.

He shook his head frantically.

“I can’t. Need to keep you safe.”

Up ahead the world was starting to disappear as well sandwiching you on all sides. Miguel could tell it was over. The weight of you all was wearing him down and the glitching was coming faster now. Even if he could get you away from the glitching you all couldn’t leave. Not without a watch to stabilize your energetic frequency to another universe like his did and he would need three.

Miguel stopped on what was left of the street as the people around you were in chaos letting you all stand on your own.

“Y/N I love you I’m sorry.”

He hugged you close sandwiching the children between you as you all sank to your knees in defeat.

You cradled his face in your hands sobbing as he took you all in. The way Gabriella looked like a perfect mix of you both. The tiny cute little features Benji was growing into like the little curl pattern he was starting to develop and you. The one who had drawn him to stay there in the first place. It was love at first sight when he first saw you that day as you ran errands and Miguel couldn’t fathom a day without you. Without all of you.

You kissed slow and needy knowing it would be the last time. You knew you wouldn’t get to tell him everything you wanted to say. How you did forgive him you were just being stubborn. There was only time for one last goodbye.

“Miguel I lo-”

The world turned white and his family was gone.

Miguel was alone again.

#miguel o'hara x reader #black reader #pregnant reader #mom reader #into the spider verse #into the spiderverse imagine #beyond the spiderverse #beyond the spiderverse imagine #Mature content warning

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theknightmarket · 10 months

Text

“Oh, please, save me.”

In which Dark finds his partner. Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - AO3 TW: cursing, possibly abusive relationship, violence, destruction of property Pages: 23 – Words: 9,500

[Requests: OPEN]

Sometimes, when you sat in the corner of a coffee shop, with the smell of brewed hot drinks and sweet pastries, watching average people going about their extraordinary lives, you felt like it was exactly where you were meant to be. The sun was shining through the windows, forcing a grin onto your face that wouldn’t be out of place on Christmas morning. It really was amazing, and you always wondered how it was that you got here. You hadn’t completed some amazing feat of bravery or kindness – at least, not that you were aware – nor did you go through an overly traumatic experience. Nothing that had happened before you entered the café warranted a life like this. And yet, there you sat, cradling a porcelain mug that the baristas reserved just for you, not a care in the world.

You caressed the pattern on the surface lightly. A yellow canary. The outline was strong, but the features had faded with age. You took a sip.

Technically, you were supposed to be running an errand for a friend, but he could stand to be without his awkwardly complicated mocha drink order for a little while longer. He was going to be a drama queen about it, though it wasn’t as though he had ever taken a break from it.

You laughed to yourself into your mug. Knowing him, he’d gasp in offence and go on some rant about how he was allowed to be dramatic. He was an actor, after all, and actors had special privileges. You were only getting his coffee because he had his three actual assistants touching up his costume and makeup and charging him for the gas was out of the question. The privilege in question was that he had an extra hand without having to pay you – but the drawback was that you had taken your sweet time. You took one last sip of the coffee, cast one last look over the café, and left one last dollar in the tip jar. It was his fault for giving you fifty in cash without asking for change.

The baristas all waved as you pushed open the door, the jingle of the bell coaxing you out gently. It was just as warm outside as inside, so you were happy to take a stroll down the street at a leisurely pace. The studio was a block or two away, and it was such a nice day. It’d be a shame to waste it all in a stuffy room with blocky cameras and fluorescent lights, how your friend was sure to try and spend it. He took his work too seriously, sometimes, so it was your self-appointed duty to get him out and about.

When you pushed through the doors of the studio, after bypassing the security guard who only needed to give you a solemn nod to let you pass, it was easy to find his dressing room. The projected voice overwhelming the others could only be prescribed to him, and you knew this place like the back of your hand, even though you’d only been here for two weeks at most. The only thing that made it more obvious where he was situated was the shiny, red and gold star on the door, which you pushed open with the brightest smile you could muster.

The scene that greeted you was exactly as you expected; a wary assistant holding his costume’s jacket and shirt, another standing off to the side with a comb and hairspray, a third glancing in your direction as if they wanted to make a run for it, and, at the epicenter of it all, your best friend.

“Lay off them, Mark, they’re just trying to do their jobs.”

Two of the assistants looked at you like you were an angel descended from heaven, but the former was too afraid to take their eyes off Mark. You might’ve taken offence to that, but, given that he was staring straight back at them, it was granted.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “and they’re failing miserably at them.”

A deep breath in and then a deep breath out, before he physically shifted so that his body was pointed towards you, able to inspect you and the gift you came bearing. A second passed by, but he deemed it acceptable, apparently, because he waved off the assistants with the simple flourish of his wrist. They scurried past you one by one until it was just you and Mark in his dressing room, the door having been shoved closed behind the final person out.

You were always grateful that you weren’t on the receiving end of his wrath. Instead, you were an exception to the outside forces that ticked him off. His snarl perked up into a smirk, his shoulders relaxed, and he tossed his head back for relief. “Took you long enough,” he spoke, a jovial tone clear in his words.

You rolled your eyes back and pulled out the stool from the vanity. “Don’t be rude, I could have taken longer if I wanted to.” You handed him the coffee as you sat yourself down. It wasn’t as nice an environment as the café had been, but it had Mark, and that was good enough for you.

His retort of, “I wouldn’t have let you back in,” was swiftly met with a doubtful look of your own. A week or two ago, you had, in fact, taken longer, by an hour, and he’d let you into his dressing room with nothing but a scoff.

“So, how’d the scene go?” Your eyes scanned the surface for a script, but you only found the title page in a scrunched-up ball.

“Ugh, terrible.” You could have figured that one out yourself. “You would think that after a month on set, people would know their lines, but apparently, I’m the only one here who gives a damn.”

The urge to shoot a glance back at the closed door was too difficult to ignore, even though the voices rising from the main studio hall told you nobody was around to hear. “I thought you liked Joan,” you said, bringing your eyes back to Mark.

“You have no clue who I like.”

“You like me.”

“Not by choice.”

His expression of distaste was a poor disguise for the amusement underneath. If he wanted to, he could have hidden it, but you were glad he didn’t. You enjoyed his small grins, no matter how much he pushed them back. You sent him your own smug smile in return. Settling into this dynamic had been difficult, what with Mark’s tendency to act in his personal life as well as his working hours and your lacking in social experience, but you got past that obstacle. It was a damn good thing you did, too, because, otherwise, you would have nowhere to go. Not a roof over your head, or food in your stomach, or anything – it was embarrassing to admit how much you relied on your friend, but he had always assured you that it was fine. You made a promise to yourself that you would get on your own two feet by the end of the summer, and you still planned to stick to it. Moments like these only made you appreciate what you had right now more. All of it because of him.

Mark took a sip of his coffee and then set it down on the surface closest to him. Your pupils dashed to his hand and followed it as he brought it back to his lap. He rested leisurely in his chair – the kind that you always saw in movies, with the black fabric and embroidered names – like a roman emperor. He had the looks for it, and the braggadocio to boot.

He hummed as his eyes flitted over your face. It took a second before he spoke, “I wanted to talk to you about something. A little proposition I have for you.”

Your eyebrows raised on instinct and your shoulders tensed. Without knowing where he was going with it, or why you were reacting in that way, you figured you’d take the safest option of joking, “Oh, Mark, I’m flattered, but…”

The star-like spark in his irises glinted. “Funny—”

“Oh, uh, sir?”

Both of you immediately looked to the door, which had been pushed open ever-so carefully that it made no sound at all. The assistant had been the one to break the moment, headset strapped and ready and hands curled around the edge of the wall.

“What?” Mark snapped.

They cleared their throat. “You’re, um, on in two.”

With a roll of his eyes, he barely nodded in their direction, letting them scamper back down the corridor to the main set. You didn’t mind the intrusion, it was their job, but your friend’s demeanor had dropped severely from an entertained air to a begrudging one. His head lolled back, he didn’t notice you were getting up from your chair.

“As I was saying,” he tried to say, but you stopped him.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready or something?” His eyes met yours. Annoyed. Stubborn. Bordering on threatening. “As I was saying, I need you to accompany me somewhere tonight.”

A habit of his you hated. He tended to not address your points when he wanted to make one of his own, especially if you were trying to counter it, but you had learned to live with it; you had learned to bite back.

“You know I don’t like those connection-things you tell me about.”

There was a second of stillness, in which nobody spoke or moved. Mark stayed laid back in his chair, your arms were crossed, neither of you wanted to back down. Over something so small a matter, you wondered why he wouldn’t at least acknowledge he should be preparing.

But this was Mark you were talking to, so, instead, his expression that looked to be carved from marble shifted into a grin, as if he knew something you didn’t. Another habit you weren’t fond of, though you would take it over the unsettling snarl he had nearly slipped into.

“No, no, you never did,” he said, a hand coming up to card through his hair. “But it’s not one of those.”

That put you somewhat at ease. You dropped your arms, replaced one on your hips and the other reaching for Mark’s empty coffee cup. The attempt was blocked by Mark getting up from his seat and brushing himself off. In fact, your whole presence was blocked when he crossed the room to the door. Manicured nails tapped along the handle as he twisted on one heel.

“I think this will be much more fun.”

The expression he wore could only be described as devilish. A smirk thrown over his shoulder with reckless abandon, one that had your heart speed up with… something that you never remembered experiencing before. Adrenaline filled your veins, it told you to stop him, take those few strides across the floor to him.

“Mark, you actually have to tell me what we’re doing if you want me to agree.” Your last-ditch effort to keep him in the dressing room failed. He’d opened the door and disappeared to the set before you could get a step closer. “Or, not,” you muttered to no one.

A deep sigh was your only comfort. Yeah, he was a prick. But he was your prick, so you could say that without repercussions. You supposed he deserved to be able to be a little bit selfish, given your history. He was tentative about the accident during your first interactions, but now? Now, he was ready to use it as fodder, and you were ready to throw some right back at him given the chance. He would say that he was the one to comfort you in the hospital bed, and you would say that you were the only one who’d put up with him for more than a month. It was never all that serious, neither of you got offended and neither of you ever left. You, unfortunately, shared commitment to the ‘bit’, and you didn’t think that would ever change. Not so long as you were with Mark and that wasn’t about to change anytime soon.

The library didn’t last long. Dark wasn’t proud of it, but this was not something he’d experienced before. This scenario was new, and it was bad, and it was terrifying. Expelling any and all negative emotion into the surroundings was a far better alternative to imploding like a submarine at too deep a depth, even if he had to sacrifice some of the rooms in the process. The waves of energy disregarded sentimentality or significance, leaving him in the rubble of the books and shelves that had practically disintegrated in just a touch.

The rest of the manor hadn’t faired any better. The only thing that he had made sure to steer clear of was his office, but that led to the bedrooms, bathrooms, and, of course, the library falling to him. He’d edged around the kitchen for Benjamin’s sake, though that didn’t stop the marble counter tops cracking under the pressure, and Wilford had long ago abandoned attachments to the building. Everything else he might have wanted to keep safe was kept stashed in one of his desk drawers, ready for when he had calmed down enough to get close to them.

It had been three months already.

Luckily – or unluckily, Dark hadn’t made up his mind yet – Wilford had taken to peeking in on him whenever he stormed through a new room. He called it gauging his state, Dark called it poking his nose in other people’s business, but he didn’t have a way to stop him.

A knock on the door.

Go figure.

It opened lazily, ignorant or uncaring of the splinters hanging off the top corners, to reveal just the man taking a confident step into the library. His boot met the remains of a book, to which he looked down in curiosity. It was nothing important, but he picked it up, dusted off the last remnants of a leather binding, and placed it on the closest surface. He disregarded the fact that the surface was a collapsed bookcase.

“Hello, friend.” His jovial tone never ceased to amaze Dark. “Just checking in—”

But now was no time to be amazed. “Get out.”

Wil’s mustache twitched with the edge of his mouth. He didn’t enjoy seeing the man he’d known for over a century in such a situation. Against his extravagance and eccentricities, he had a heart, and it broke with the sight of Dark amongst the wreckage of a place some of him had once treasured. He wondered if he still felt the same way.

“Now, now,” he tried a tentative approach, “no need to be so brash.”

“Get out or I will stuff and mount your head like one of your trophies.”

It hadn’t worked before, and it didn’t work this time. His stockpile of tactics was running thin, the months having drawn on and on in some kind of Sisyphean nightmare worse than the time before. It wasn’t exactly difficult to figure out what had changed, what had been lost, and especially to whom. Maybe if you had left on your own, Dark would have been more approachable, but it just had to be the devil he hated that took you. When Wil had found out, he was surprised that the front doors hadn’t been blown off the manor and his friend right through them. It was better to get out his aggravation now than in the modern world, he must’ve admitted, but he wasn’t keen on all the wreckage he was beginning to trip over.

Alas, his methods were ignored, so Wilford took that single step back out the door. “You don’t have to be so crude, either.”

Dark didn’t say anything else as Wil left. The only reaction he had was the adjustment of his tie, pulling it up to his collar and then some. Spasms of red and blue light flexed out from him like an octopus’ tendrils. They lashed out at the carnage and blew over the last things that tried to stand without a care. He glanced down at the scraps of paper that laid torn in a pile, none legible anymore. The waves reminded him too much of earthquakes.

One pulse, then a pause, and then another pulse, then a longer pause. Rinse and repeat.

Not earthquakes. There was a pattern, but it wasn’t on a binary step, and calling them earthquakes was too kind because they could be expected, they were inevitable and just showed the passing of time as continents far greater than him pushed against one another.

Instead, Dark brought a cold hand up to his left breast pocket.

Pulse, short pause, pulse, long pause.

Ten minutes passed with the man standing in the centre of destruction. He remained as still as a soldier called to attention, his hand exactly where he had placed it, but he struggled to remain in the present. Half of him wanted to draw him into a pit of tar-like despair, the other half willed him to look around. Dark wasn’t certain who was on which side of the conflict, but one of them was torn like him. Neither part won him over until he picked up on a small detail.

The breaks between the cycles of waves were growing thicker. They took up just a second but fell into three, which became five and, later, nine. By the time five more minutes had gone by, he didn’t know whether they were still going on.

Good. It was about time that he sobered up. He couldn’t do anything in that kind of state, and the months he’d already spent in that way were counter intuitive. He was of no help to himself or you, and, with that thought in mind, Dark pulled at the lapels of his jacket and marched himself out the door.

The corridors had sustained much the same abuse as the separate rooms. One of the support beams was two inches away from turning to a stalagmite, and a section of the banister had been cleanly tone off. The rubble sat at the bottom of the stairwell, kicked off to the corner in the foyer, where Dark had only crossed through once. He only managed to tear his eyes away from it when a wall came between him.

Dark’s office hadn’t changed one bit since he had left it. The curtains were still drawn, the haphazardly strewn papers were still haphazardly strewn, the surfaces were still completely clear because nobody had been in there for dust to settle. It was, at once, comforting and unnerving. But none of that mattered right now, there were more pressing matters at hand with the ability to walk into the room without sending everything crashing into the ground.

Namely, the book that was kept in his desk.

It was one of a few that sat in the top left-hand drawer, protected and safe, which he coaxed gently open after stopping in front it. Nestled beside the deed to the manor and a decorated hand mirror was the very thing he was looking for. His pale hand wrapped around the edge, but he couldn’t help the frigid shock that coursed through him, forcing him to hesitate for just a second.

If he moved it, he would see your book. He had to move it, he had to, it would only take the smallest movement, he could close the drawer immediately after, slam it shut if he had to, if he would use his goddamn hand. His teeth grated together – a steel trap that would have to be wedged open with a crowbar.

As soon as the leather shifted off of the book below, Dark ripped it from the container and shoved the drawer shut with the palm of his other hand. The ice left his veins, and he laid his prize out on the wood, surprised that the sight of this had less of an effect than the potential of the other. Maybe it was the fact that it meant he could finally get the ball rolling that urged the adrenaline to overtake the cold. His hand flipped through the pages – he was sure that was the reason.

The most unfortunate aspect of his plans was that the easier ones required him being able to leave the manor. Invisible prison bars that blocked his escape were the only things stopping him from enacting any revenge as soon as the thought struck him. Smart choice on Mark’s part, but he would rather lose everything that commend him, so he ignored the thought and skimmed the text.

It was old, as to be expected from something procured more than a hundred years ago and published even further past that, but the most important words were still readable. Between splatters of time and stain, the instructions for the breakdown of a barrier were set in the paper. They practically shimmered in Dark’s eyes as though the ink were still wet. Some simple incantation, a few symbols, and a handful of materials were the only things needed for this to go off without a hitch.

But then he read the last item on the list, his teeth gritting together uncomfortably. Three times it had come down to him, and three times he had screwed it up for Dark. The entity had played his part, but the actor, because of course it was Mark, had ignored the call every time. He pranced off into whatever other role caught his fancy; the first time was Damien’s body and a literal interpretation when he stole it, the second when he stole you from the mirror, and the third being now, stealing the retribution Dark so desperately wanted by withholding his blood. It would have been easier had he been occupying the shell that remained in the void when he put up the barrier, or even if he waltzed into the manor and offered himself up. Being generous wasn’t in his DNA, but for once, could he fulfil that benevolence he pretended to have?

Dark was seconds away from returning the book to the drawer – or, with a sidelong glance at the window, return it to the rest of the trees – all of his hopes dashed, when the sound of the front door echoed up through the manor. He stopped everything, shutting his body off like the flick of a machine’s switch, and just listened. The clogging wonder of if you would be proud of him was brushed off to make space for a checklist.

No shaky knock: not a salesman. No unnecessary keys: not an estate agent. No frivolous yelling: not Wilford, not that he entered through the door anyway. Without Benjamin ever leaving the place and a stray group of teens having been scared away a couple of months ago, it could only mean that this was someone new. Two someones in fact, if the mismatched footsteps walking in the foyer were anything to go by. Nobody dangerous, they weren’t bothering to be sly, and they didn’t have a goal in mind. The pair moved around generally, sticking to the foyer where Dark knew there was nothing of importance anymore. One was more hesitant than the other, pauses between the clicks of their heels never the same. The other took five steps forward, stopped, and stayed there as Dark thought about what to do with them.

Would you be proud? He had restrained himself, sure, but he could have more patience. Would you want him to even deal with them in the first place, or would you rather him let them do as they please as long as they didn’t affect him? It was difficult to know exactly your reaction, and, although it didn’t matter because you weren’t there to judge him, there was a part of him that believed it did. He knew what part that was and the worst part about it was that he didn’t ignore it. He couldn’t, not anymore, not since Dark’s own feelings as a complete being started aligning more with that side of him. The devastatingly emotional part, a bleeding heart that had him setting himself up in his desk chair instead of scaring the hell out of those intruders.

And it wasn’t as though he were stuck with no choice. The rest of the arcane book was available, there must have been something else in it that could help him. He just had to look for it. Surely, you would prefer the kinder option based on your living career choice. Besides, what damage could a few children looking for some amusement do?

“Are you sure about this, Mark?”

The soft clatter of the old door behind you forewarned the danger of the place, and just one glance around the room told you how close it was to falling apart. The support beams were fractured, cracks lined the walls as though a mad demolitionist had tossed a mallet around, and the rubble of wood you caught sight of at the other end of the foyer didn’t do it any favors. Despite this, you were more concerned about the mental state of your friend than his future physical state.

But, as always, your concern didn’t make him falter. Mark’s strut into the centre of the room sent the clicks of his heels throughout the building, scaring away rats and birds that had made their homes in the foundation. His arms spread wide and a grin of his face, he looked like he was planning to embrace an old friend.

“Of course, I am,” he responded, confident. He had hand-picked this place after all, and he wouldn’t bring you somewhere he wasn’t sure would deal you no harm. You trusted him enough to follow him into a collapsing cave if he promised it wouldn’t fall – and this place was no different.

A speck of dust floated through the air in front of you.

No different at all.

With his feet planted where he stood, Mark spun 360 degrees to get a good view of the place. “Now,” he said, stopping at staring into the kitchen, “I think we should do one of those camp overnight things.”

You grazed a hand along the wallpaper. A strip peeled off under your nails. “Any particular reason?”

“The studio’s thinking of branching out into shows, and my agent thought it’d be better to stay with them than go lone wolf.”

“I thought you didn’t like shows.”

Mark shrugged, his non-answer somewhat annoying but still common. It didn’t bother you as much as it did before, exposure therapy was a hell of a thing, until it got to the point that it could be considered… endearing? Not that you did, of course, but some people had tastes like that.

You didn’t think much of it, not only because of its frequency, but because you were more interested in the thing that your hand met as you dragged it further. The tips of your fingers first caught on the edge, which you tried to skim over, but then you recognised the wood and then the glass, and then you were crying.

Crying?

You were crying. Plain and simple, and utterly confusing. Your eyebrows furrowed as unbidden as the tears that streamed over your cheeks. And this wasn’t just a few, but a whole stream that took you three wipes of your sleeves to calm it all down. You just couldn’t understand why you were crying, you only knew that you were. The cold of the mirror’s surface that sent chills up through your bones wasn’t enough to give you frost-bite, and the sound of your nails against it didn’t pierce your eardrums. You barely registered it as you withdrew your arm into yourself, ignoring how it was a similar sensation to forcing two magnets apart.

You didn’t think that Mark would have noticed had you not laughed anxiously to yourself. Were you panicking? Was this a defense mechanism for some unknown danger that your mind refused to reveal to you? You didn’t know, and you didn’t like not knowing.

“Are you okay?”

Pricks of a warmth much kinder than the mirror – and yet somehow had you tensing up – sparked at the crook of your elbow. In your peripheral, your friend appeared, a concerned expression overtaking the nonchalance he had sported earlier.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. It was a poor attempt at gaining some control, the tears were still coming full force, but you hoped the display would appear funnier than the worrying scene you presented. “I mean, I don’t know why…” All you could do was let out another little laugh.

Whatever social cue you had put out, Mark responded by guiding you by the elbow towards the kitchen. He didn’t stray from his course, didn’t let you go, until he’d sat you down in a barstool at the island and looked around.

The stool nearly toppled over as you shifted your weight, and it forced you to stabilize yourself with both your hands against the countertop. Blinking was the only way to get the water out of the corners of your eyes, so you spent the seconds rapidly switching between sight and blindness. Mark’s figure fluttered about like a stop-motion video – one moment he stood next to you, the next he was by the towel rack, he returned to your side at the third blink with a square of cloth held out precariously.

He drew closer, that towel nearly half an inch from your face, and you braced for impact. That had been a ‘thing’ for you. An obstacle if you wanted to call it that. You didn’t have a positive relationship with touch, while Mark practically draped himself over you at every chance. A shoulder tap here, a hand caress there, but you set boundaries when it got too much for you. Most of the other problems you get over, this was where you stood your ground, and you hadn’t the faintest clue why. You’d just hated it.

That impact came seconds later. Luckily for you, probably due to having gone unused for years, the towel was fluffy and light and felt comfortable against your eyelids. The streaks of moisture were cleared up nicely, to the point that you held back from taking the fabric and stowing it away in a pocket.

“Don’t want to ruin your charming face,” came Mark’s muttering. He tilted his head to the side when he deemed himself done, and a curl of his hair fell over his forehead, one that you, in return, swiped away.

“Okay?” you chuckled.

You didn’t know whether to classify the moment as awkward or tender, but the smile Mark flashed and the continued laughter you sent back was enough for you to label it the latter.

Had you listened slightly closer, focused less on the texture of the cloth, laughed quieter, you might have heard the vague tapping of a dress shoe on the tiled floor. Benjamin was angry enough that he could only keep his physical form invisible to the sudden guests, but the sounds and the temperature were slipping through his fingers. As he passed behind your back, he saw you shiver, though he paid no mind to it, gunning for the sink imbedded in a nearby countertop.

Benjamin didn’t mind the people who came in and out of the manor. The agents and random groups of teenagers weren’t things he concerned himself with – as long as they didn’t touch the kitchen. The chef wasn’t there to keep people out, so he took it upon himself to maintain that specific room. Not to mention that, recently, it was the only room that he could maintain. He had yet to thank Dark for only splitting some of the countertop. All the destruction everywhere else, he couldn’t help with so much in an incorporeal form, but a sink faucet? He could expend some energy to nudge it a bit.

Had you stayed away from the kitchen, he wouldn’t be risking the quality of the tiling. It wasn’t anything personal; and had either you or Mark arrived some years earlier, he might have been more lenient, but the affection towards his old master had faded, and you still had terrible fashion sense.

The butler was trotting out of the room by the time that you stopped your conversation. People were boisterous these days, but it was a miracle that you hadn’t noticed the steady rush of water just steps away from you. And Mark had been staring right at it! Or, the in that direction at least, Benjamin didn’t know if his staring accounted for anything outside of your face. Either way, it really wasn’t his fault that the sink was now overflowing, nor that you realized it when you put your feet onto the ground, expecting a stable surface, and were met with the squelch of your soles.

You let out a curse when your senses reconciled with your logic, quickly lunging from your seat to the faucet. This wasn’t your house, you couldn’t mess it up now. Hands met metal, you pushed it shut, you refrained from breathing in case it set something off. Mark’s eyebrows furrowed, unseen by you, until his hand was laid over your wrist, still placed on the sink.

You shrugged. “Faulty plumbing?”

He seemed to ignore what you said as he tugged you from the kitchen and towards the living room. His expression didn’t change, and you didn’t know what to say to make it better, so you let yourself fall into step just behind him. If he wanted to shoot in this place, it made sense for him to be disconcerted by the issue, but he didn’t look it. Not all the way, as if there were something about it that would make sense, if only he had the last piece of the puzzle. Speeding up enough to be next to him, you offered a smile. Although he lagged for a second, he returned it with a signature smirk.

“Oh, I do love this room.”

After crossing into the carpeted space, Mark practically melted into a relaxed state that almost made you jealous. As though his body had become fluid, he collapsed onto a chaise longue like a true Hollywood star. You went down next to him but managed to stay upright against the leather arm.

“Yeah?” A quick glance around gave you an opinion very fast. “The taxidermy isn’t putting you off any?” That wasn’t to say you were against the practice, but twelve mounted heads all staring into your soul with their glass eyes and judgmental lack of a body wasn’t your favorite décor. The ones that were face down into the carpet were a gift, but whatever had put them in such a position was also likely to have been the one to smash in a window and topple the coffee table. A graveyard of books bulldozed off the shelves decorated the place, each one accompanied by a figurine or statue, even a painting or two swiped off the wallpaper.

Mark huffed. He casually propped his legs on your lap as he said, “I think everything else makes up for it.” That didn’t stop him from shooting the biggest one, a bison head in the centre of the opposite wall, a mean-spirited glare. On his part, the rest of the room wasn’t that bad; everything was surprisingly clear of dust, from the looming bookcase in one of the corners to the fireplace lingering with a few logs of wood still inside. “Cozy, wouldn’t you say?”

You couldn’t help yourself from looking at your dearest, closest, cherished friend with the most suspicious gawk you could muster. Cozy? The room had a stuffed lynx on a shelf, and he called it cozy. You would love to see what he thought was creepy, but, knowing Mark, it would be somewhere that just had one floor. But this should have been too much for him, right?

“For you, sure.”

Your uneasy tone must have given him the oh-so-difficult-to-gather impression that you didn’t believe him, and he said as such. “You don’t agree.”

“Well, it’s not cottage living, is it?”

The pressure of Mark’s legs lifted from your lap, and you watched as he waltzed to the fireplace, struck a match, and set the mouth ablaze. The heat instantly invaded the room, coaxing you unknowingly closer. You shifted so that you leaned more onto the arm of the couch while he settled again next to you.

Briefly, you turned your head to him. “Are you allowed to do that?”

“Of course, dear, there isn’t much I’m not allowed to do here.”

With the seating more comfortable than the stool in the kitchen, it was far easier to fall into conversation. It was mostly concerning the show Mark had been talking about, how everything would fit together and how they would shoot it, but it dipped into different topics as well. Threading between those were your own thoughts about it all, and by it all, you meant the atmosphere. You couldn’t deny that it was off-putting, but you also couldn’t pin exactly why. This was your first time here, the only pre-conceived notions you had were that old manors might break some safety regulations – none of which had appeared so far, so what was it? The plumbing was just annoying, the décor wasn’t overly terrible, what was the problem? You wanted to understand it, and you wanted it gone, and it was killing you that neither of those had happened yet.

You were nearly crushed by the chandelier.

In the span of five seconds, you shoved Mark to the side and pushed yourself off the couch with your legs. The crunch of the furniture’s wooden legs breaking sent your heart into a wild stammer, but, god, the sound before that. It couldn’t have been the chain – you nearly died – your heart skipped a beat and merged three into one – you couldn’t breathe – you nearly died – the carpet molded around you – friction burn on your arm – left arm – where was Mark – the chain broke – you nearly died.

You couldn’t tell whether you were alive or not, your mind flickered between the two states, and Mark watched you all the while. Lucky for him, you had pushed him to the side of the couch that didn’t have an arm, letting him fall off it before it was decimated by the chandelier. Without any damage done to him, he was free to look around the room.

You were splayed out in front of the remains of the couch, staring straight up at the ceiling. The chain within your field of vision didn’t look as though it had been smashed in with a blunt object at the end of the metal strands, but it wasn’t damaged past that. Something small had hit it, and, when he brought his eyes down to the chandelier, he saw exactly what it was.

The glint of the bullet was difficult to make out amongst the actual chandelier, but Mark fished it out and brought it closer to inspect.

Bastard.

Wherever that adulterer was now, he had been in the room, he had tried to kill the both of you. He didn’t think he had such a bad opinion of you, but collateral damage was always a possibility, and he wouldn’t put it past the maniac to harm you in the process of getting to him. The destruction of the original room, he could look past that, but going this far really showed the depths the man had fallen to.

Mark pocketed the bullet as he rose to his feet, dusting himself off with the other hand; he wouldn’t want you to worry, not any more than you were at the prospect of dying. You would need some comfort, and he could give it to you. He knew just the place to do it.

The image of your friend’s face – alive, he hadn’t been crushed – drifted into view. A meek chuckle forced itself out of your throat, cut off by a cough. This place was horrible. You wanted to leave. Your legs wouldn’t let you, no matter how much you willed them to. Your body was nearly pulverized and yet it refused to leave the place that you had almost died in, again!

Again?

The overflowing sink hadn’t been that dangerous. Again?

“Come on—” Mark gripped your hand, “—I know somewhere nice—” he lugged you to your feet, “—and quiet for you to recover in.”

You stumbled forward, unsure on your feet as you were in your mind. Sprinting to the car would have been the smartest move, but you found yourself trailing after Mark, one hand in his and the other rubbing against your eyes. You’d been in that manor for barely an hour, you didn’t know if you could handle another five minutes, let alone enough time to relax again. But your conscious pushed against slowing down. If you stopped moving, you might spiral again, so you followed through with your paces. One foot in front of the other. Back to the foyer, up the stairs, onto the landing.

That was where your feet decided to plant themselves. Of course, when you’d accepted that you were going where Mark was, your body decided to change its mind, and, yes, you weren’t too dizzy to miss the irony in that. Despite that, it was your body, and you were going to go along with whatever it wanted to do.

“I, uh, I’ll be right back,” you said, not moving.

“Where are you going?” Mark’s grip on your hand seemed to tighten as he stepped back closer to you.

You took your own step back. “Bathroom, I think? I just need…” you trailed off, the small amount of focus left to spare in your brain being used to look down the hallway.

Although he followed your gaze, swallowed, let his smile drop, he nodded and gestured with the hand that he let go from yours. “Third door on your left, darling.”

In any other situation, somewhere on his own turf, Mark would have made sure you were okay before anything else important happened. He would have offered you a glass of water and sat you down so you wouldn’t keel over. He would have sat next to you and talked to you to make sure you stayed conscious. You were obviously shaken, and he felt concern for you – but this was more than important. The ensuing moments were the very culmination of the last three months, the last century! If he let something get in the way now, all that time would be wasted, and he would be starting from square one. And Mark refused to build himself up from the bottom again.

Dazed, you stumbled down the corridor and to the bathroom.

Going in alone just gave him more time to prepare.

Of course, Dark had chosen that old office for his base of operations. Everywhere else was destroyed, as though it had been rented out for one of those rage room activities, so it made sense for him to make a haven out of business. And what business was that? Why, chasing Mark down, of course! He felt a flame of pride jolt inside him. All that damage, just for him. It made him feel so special.

And the look on three men’s faces was enough to make him laugh in vanity.

“What a lovely family reunion.”

If only he had a camera, Mark would have cherished the picture for as long as he lived; Dark was in the centre of the room, a chair pulled up to the window, which he sat lordly in, tilted barely towards his desk. One leg was crossed over the other, he wore a perfect suit. From the name to the fashion, he was a pale – oh, he made himself laugh – imitation of the actor. The sight of Mark had yet to register in his mind, but the two on either side of him certainly showed their thoughts. Benjamin seemed surprised. Not angry, not sad, just surprised. He had always liked his employee. Benjamin had been barely 25 years old when he was hired as a butler, but he was good at it. He didn’t hold the sink incident against him. However, the pink-mustached, candy-coated cuck, there was a special place in hell reserved just for him. Whether he was alive or dead didn’t matter, his mind was clearly in purgatory, and Mark relished in that. He was getting what he deserved.

He stepped closer, putting the three immediately on guard. He grinned a shark-like grin.

“Benjamin, William, Damien, Celine… if only the chef and groundskeeper were still around.” The door drifted closed. “We’d have a full set.”

The air flexed around him, the feeling of oil on water, and the look of it too. Red and blue rings waved away into the walls when Dark stood, slowly, carefully. Mark had intentionally left you out, and he was smart enough to realise that. He was also smart enough to realise that killing him now wouldn’t do him any good, or maybe that was just Damien restraining Celine while the entity watched on.

He was still moving too fast. “Now, slow down there, cowboy. I think you and I need to have a little chat.” Wilford’s eyes were feral. “Privately.”

Benjamin disappeared in the blink of an eye, not that anyone risked being blinded for even a millisecond, leaving Wilford and Dark behind. The latter kept his cool. The former didn’t want to take the chance.

“Like hell I’d leave you—”

“Wilford, leave.”

Two missed opportunities in the span of ten minutes. Mark settled for ingraining the look of shock and betrayal into his brain.

The cotton-candy nut case inched closer to Dark. “I know, I know, ‘practice what you preach’, but you can’t be serious.”

Without looking away from Mark, his only response was, “I can handle this.”

Wilford wasn’t Mark’s main target but having him forced to leave the room was undeniably satisfying. He even had to walk right past him to get to the door! He had half the mind to grab him and taunt him some more, but he could do that later. Right now, he was supposed to be mocking the scary dog still standing by the window. He didn’t know how much time he had before you got back from the bathroom, he had to make this count.

The moment that the wood stopped the funeral bells behind him, Dark spoke. Sharply, simply.

“You have five seconds to talk, before I rip your throat out.”

“I have your precious bird.”

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Mark’s smug smirk swallowed the bottom half of his face.

Dark couldn’t let it show how much it affected him. Obviously, Mark had you. It had been signed, clear as day, over the title page of your book, the contract to your soul now owned by the devil before him. But the confirmation from between his own teeth? He wanted to break the promise he had made before, wreck the entire room, bury Mark twelve feet underground just to make sure he wouldn’t come back up when it rained. He wanted to cry, too. He didn’t know if his tear ducts still worked, but he was on the edge of finding out. He wanted to go find you and collapse into your arms, because you would be safe with him, he would protect you.

He couldn’t do any of that.

“What do you want, Mark?”

Dark didn’t allow himself to startle as Mark started to move. Casually, he strolled towards the desk and leaned against it, crossing one ankle over the other. “Oh, I don’t want anything. Why would I? No, I’m, well, I’m flaunting.” That unsufferable chuckle echoed throughout the manor. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m not here to gain anything, and you have nothing else worth taking. I just wanted to see the horrified look on your face as I do to you exactly what was done to me all those years ago.”

Mark was an actor – he could pretend to be some way when he was really the other, lie and cheat to get his way on and off stage. But he could also be painfully honest. This was one of those times, and Dark could feel the venom coursing through empty veins. He had so much to gain by tracking Mark down, and Mark had revealed himself on a whim, for petty gloating.

The arcane book stashed in the desk asked for the monster’s blood for Dark to go free, but he would gladly take his entire body. Use the bones as toothpicks, feed the flesh to wild coyotes, take his tea from his skull like cheap chinaware.

You wouldn’t be proud.

He collected his thoughts, pulled his hands together in front of him. “It has been a century.” At least he had a logical motive, revenge for three deaths, that could keep him going for years.

Mark hummed. “It has, hasn’t it? But does that really matter? It didn’t seem important to you when you left your prisoner in the mirror for 100 years. Consider it saving a neglected dog from an abusive owner.”

“Saving!?”

The mirror on one wall shook in its frame, bordering on cracking, just a touch would cause it to shatter so easily. The waves of energy shot out once, twice, three times in quick succession – the legs of the desk dropped splinters onto the floorboards and the curtains tore at the seams. The last feat of his reaction was to blow the bulb in the desk lamp, but Mark didn’t shift. Only his facial expression grew evermore smug as he tutted quietly.

“What else would it be?”

“Kidnapping.

“You misunderstand. They came with me willingly.”

No. No, no, no. You wouldn’t. You didn’t. Mark was a liar, he had to remember that. Even if it made sense – which it didn’t – you wouldn’t just leave without saying anything. He thought you’d gotten better, that he’d gotten better. In the early days, sure, he wouldn’t put it past you, but… your relationship had changed. Dark cared about you, he didn’t readily show it, but he did. You knew that, didn’t you? You had to know that.

Dark cast his eyes to the door. “As though I would believe you.”

“100 years, Dark,” Mark cooed. “Normally, I would suggest their opinions of me softened, but we both know that’s not true.” The click of his shoes warned of his coming closer. “They despised me even as they shook my hand and said ‘oh, please, save me’, because they didn’t have anyone else to help them.”

“You’re a liar, you always have been.” Dark couldn’t meet his eyes, but he was sure that, if he looked up the inch it took, he would see the horizontal pupils of a goat, or maybe a snake. Whatever struck his fancy; he’d be the devil either way.

“Is that so?”

It was a challenge. Dark didn’t say anything in response, so Mark took it as the go ahead.

Lightly, he called out, “Oh, pet?”

What? Dark was stunned. You were nearby? Near enough to hear him?

“Yeah?” Your voice.

And you weren’t angry, or scared, or even hesitant when you spoke to this man. You sounded completely normal. Just a person talking to a friend.

Mark stared straight at the ghost in front of him.

“Do you trust me?”

Your footsteps drew closer. They made actual sounds as you walked, not the silence that the mirror offered. You were alive. Corporeal. More than Dark himself. And Mark had asked you a question, one that he found himself pleading for a very specific answer to.

A small laugh. In better circumstances, he would be throwing that door open and running to you, even if you were a foot from opening the door, as you sounded. This was not the time, though, and, instead, he was forced to listen to your response.

“Of course, I do, Mark. Why would you ask that?”

Dark froze. His legs didn’t buckle, and his expression didn’t change. Everything just stopped. He couldn’t be angry with you. So why wasn’t he angry at Mark any more than he was before? It felt as though Damien and Celine had been pushed to the back, the ancient entity bringing him to a husk, his mind straying into the void – how it was before everything had happened. Before the dinner party, before Mark, before you. It all stood still.

Dark caught a glimpse of the monster’s grin, and a calculating, frigid violence overtook him.

He slammed Mark into the opposite wall. The crack of something rang out like a twig splitting in two. His fist drawn back, he threw it into his jaw, blood pooled in the corner of his mouth. Another punch that tossed his head sideways. He was pressed up against the mirror, the lower parts were falling out of the casing from Mark’s impact. Good. Hopefully they cut him some on the way down. Dark couldn’t think as he pushed Mark towards the door. His mind clouded, his body moved on its own, a dangerous puppet poised to kick the other man through the wood – before it opened and the two spilled into the hallway.

Focus. He had to ignore you. The clouds began to part but he forced them together again. If he got distracted, he would lose. Dark pushed his target against the wall, ready to shift him barely to the left over the railing.

Meanwhile, you, too, had one thing on your mind. That you had to think fast. No time to consider why this was happening, or who this was, or why he looked somewhat like your friend beside you. The friend that was getting the shit beat out of him.

Ignoring the frantic questions whirring in your brain, you did the one thing that Dark wished you wouldn’t do.

You grabbed his lapels, slammed him back into the plaster, and forced him to look at you.

And there was not an ounce of recognition in your eyes. The pleading look Dark sent you, asking you to just try and remember him because Mark must had done something to make you forget, was lost on you. Your mouth was pulled back in a snarl, vindictive, threatening. Whether you looked like an enraged bull or a bunny, it wouldn’t have mattered. It would have had the same effect.

Dark lost all breath as he looked at you. That speck of flame was still present, how it was when you were in the mirror, the sheen of sweat from fear or the quick movements. He hadn’t seen you this angry since he first talked to you, those many months ago. Yet, the one thought that stopped him from doing anything else was that if he were to lean forward a centimeter, barely, his lips would meet yours, he would be able to embrace you like he’d wanted to do since he realized you were out of the glass prison. He would be able to feel your body on his in a way that didn’t stretch the fabric of his suit.

“I don’t know who you are—” oh, but you did, “—or what the hell you think you’re doing—” trying to save you, “—but you touch my friend again—” he wasn’t your friend, “—and it won’t matter anymore. Do I make myself clear?”

“Do you not… please,” Dark knew it was fruitless to say anything, but he couldn’t help but beg, appeal to the smallest aspect of you that might have recognised him.

“I said, do I make myself clear.”

Not even the waves of energy made themselves known. Any other danger, the lingering impression of Mark, they went on a rampage, but he couldn’t fight you. He just couldn’t.

“You do.”

Your hands withdrew from his lapels. He didn’t bother adjusting them again but chose to watch you as you collected Mark from his witness stand against the other wall. Blood seeped into his collar from an upturned mouth. Dark wished he’d done more, wished he’d took the leap of faith and threw him over the railing. It would have been poetic, but it wouldn’t have been real.

There was no point in lingering on what could have been. They didn’t matter anymore. What did matter, though, were the specks of blood from Mark’s busted lip and jaw that coated his knuckles. It was the least he could do for going through so much trouble.

Numbly, Dark pushed the door to his office open again, making sure to use the unbloodied hand for everything. He used it to close it behind him, to pull the drawer’s handle, to retrieve Celine’s old book. Flipping to the appropriate page, he skimmed the rest of the method.

You weren’t safe with Mark. That much was obvious. You never had been. With everything else set in motion, he was at least glad that you could defend yourself. The only thing he wanted now was to be there to see it. He hoped you would grant him the luxury.

[You guys got what you wanted - and let me tell you, thank you so much for supporting this, it's a treat to write something like this (even if I have to take breaks from how much some characters piss me off). This is not the end, by the way! This was actually meant to be longer, since I'm only 7/18 pages into the script, and I'm also planning to do another, more fluffy part after I finish the next. I don't think I've written anything that couldn't be classified as angst so far, so, hopefully, that will be the comfort to this hurt/comfort fic. Again, thanks for enjoying, and I hope you look forward to the next parts!]

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