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slu7formen · 7 months ago

Note

But imagine homewrecker!Luke x fem Aphrodite!reader, where reader’s already in a relationship but Luke just wants her sooo bad, so he flirts with her when no ones looking, teases her, and absolute shits on the man shes’s with in every opportunity he gets (there’s a scene from Avatar legend of Korra where she says to Mako “yeah, but when you’re with her you’re thinking about me, aren’t you?” And I can see him saying the same thing to her while giving her the most devius smirk EVER) she’s only “human” so she gives in eventually and it could be smut in the end (could you pretty please write something like this <33)

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

idk who you are but you’re a genius, I fucking love you for this

warnings: luke’s a home wrecker but that OKAY because it’s him, also he’s so mean, kinda possessive, mention of masturbation, lil smut towards the end (oral, f receiving)

₊˚⊹♡

Another night. Sleep, the supposed thing he´s been wanting all day, remained out of reach. It had been like this for weeks, a relentless torment that gnawed at his insides with the intensity of a starving Furie. And who´s fault was it? You.

He groaned against his pillow, the sheet sticking uncomfortably to his sweaty torso. Night after night, it was the same, but he couldn´t help himself, how could he keep himself from thinking about you? Being an Aphrodite´s daughter, you simply stood out from the rest, but there was something more.

The way you carried yourself; applying the smallest amount of makeup that managed to accentuate your features, making your eyes sparkle and your lips look impossibly kissable. Your voice, seductive even when you didn´t mean for it to be. Even the hideous orange camp shirt, a piece of clothing that seemed designed to make someone look dowdy, couldn't diminish your aura. He could practically smell the faint scent of your perfume, a mix of coconut and something inexplicably you, that lingered in the air even after you’d left.

It was an obsession, a problem. He wasn´t naive though, he knew he wasn't the only one who felt this way about you. How boys tripped on their own feet and walk straight into trees because of you, but that was then. Because there was a tiny, slight problem now.

You were taken.

The feeling was hot and acid. You weren't his to have. You belonged to someone else, a possession proudly displayed by your ever-present boyfriend, a hulking son of Ares who never seemed to leave your side. And Luke shouldn’t feel this way, he knows it. He shouldn't feel the hot wave of need to break the guy´s jaw every time he saw you with him.

You were happy, he was sure of it, you showed it. Your mother was the goddess of love, so you surely enjoyed it when you had it wrapped around your hands. But with him, you could be even happier. You deserved more. You deserved him. Luke let out a low growl, no-, he deserved you.

Luke could take everything you had for him and more, things that he was sure, your boyfriend couldn´t, and never will be able to.

He should feel scared about some Hypnos kid sweeping into his dreams accidentally and taking a glimpse of his dreams. How he wanted to begin to play, to have his own fun. He was determined to play for keeps.

And you, his prize, would be his reward.

Luke wasn't stupid. He wouldn't blatantly flaunt his desires in front of your man. No, his approach was far more subtle, a slow burn.

It started with those little greetings. A passing "Hey there, pretty" as he walked by you on his way to archery practice, his armor straps purposefully being adjusted in a way that accentuated the broadness of his shoulders. You'd respond with a simple "Hi" a smile playing on your glossy lips as you continued your conversation with your sister, both of you blissfully unaware of the first move in his carefully calculated game.

He began weaving himself into your periphery, appearing near you at mealtimes, offering unsolicited help with chores, lingering just a tad too long during conversations.

It couldn't be denied, Luke was undeniably handsome. You always knew he was attractive, a dark-haired rebel with an edge that appealed to a certain kind of girl. He had a way of carrying himself, a cocky self-assurance that some could find arrogant, but others, like you, couldn't help but find strangely magnetic. Being a daughter of Aphrodite, you were keenly aware of the power of charm, and Luke possessed it in spades.

You found yourself strangely drawn to it.

But he had to act faster than that.

He'd find you reading under a tree, the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves and casting an ethereal glow around you. He'd saunter over, a slow, predatory grace in his movements.

"Mind if I join you, beautiful?"

You looked up, rolling your eyes playfully. "My boyfriend's gonna kill you if he hears you calling me that" you chuckled, flipping a page of your book.

Luke, for a split second, allowed a flicker of irritation to cross his features, quickly masked by a sardonic smile. "Blame it on your mother, then. I can't help but speak the truth."

You couldn't help but bite your lip, a laugh bubbling up in your chest as he settled next to you comfortably, arm bumping your own.

"What are you reading?" he asked, his voice dropping a fraction lower as he leaned closer, the scent of leather filling your senses.

You mumbled the title, the close proximity of his body making you uncomfortably aware of the heat radiating from him. It took him a hot minute to open his mouth again, a almost mockery sigh escaping his lips as he leaned back on his elbows.

"You know," he began, his voice dropping even lower, "Your boyfriend doesn't seem to be around much lately."

You bit your lip, a mixture of annoyance and something else entirely bubbling within you. "He has his own training schedule, Luke" you pointed out, your voice taking on a slight comprehensive edge.

He nodded slowly, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Of course" he drawled, stretching the word out like a piece of taffy. "But it´s been quite some time, right? Does he always leave you alone like this?"

You shrugged your shoulders. “He doesn´t” you stammered. “He´s just-, busy”

Busy. In summer. Gods, you were so…

Fucking cute.

He couldn't help but find it incredibly mesmerizing and astonishing, the way you were so transparently in love with your boyfriend, a love that Luke was determined to break, piece by piece. It only fueled his perverse desire to rip that very love away, to replace your blind devotion with a burning desire for him. He didn't want to break your heart — not exactly. He just wanted to re-route it, to steer its affection towards him.

The once-casual hangouts became more frequent. Tonight, you found yourself huddled next to him at the flickering bonfire. You chat casually, occasionally finding yourself hypnotized by the way his adam´s apple bobbed up and down every time he spoke.

“New skirt?” he then asked. He knew he shouldn't be looking, shouldn't have allowed his gaze to drop to the way the fabric clung to your thighs, drawing his attention to the delicious way they were pressed together ever since the moment you sat down. Yet, he couldn't help himself. The image seared itself into his memory, a forbidden fruit he desperately wanted to taste.

"Yeah" you chirped, a playful lilt in your voice. "You noticed?" There was a glint in your eyes, a spark of something that made his pulse quicken. Had he ever noticed your clothes before? Gods, yes, he knew every article in your meager wardrobe — the worn out oxford jeans, the simple white t-shirts that hugged your curves just perfectly, the tight cargo shorts, and now, this new skirt that showcased your legs in a way that made his blood run hot.

But he wouldn´t tell you that.

"Of course I noticed" he replied, forcing a casualness he didn't feel.

"Really?" you pressed, looking down at your clothes.

"You're impossible to miss” he pointed out. “It´s pretty” one of his fingers playfully tugged at the edge of your skirt, stealing a short giggle from you.

Your smile faltered for a moment though, a flicker of something crossing your face that Luke couldn't quite decipher. “He didn´t notice, you know?” you say.

A smug satisfaction bloomed in Luke's chest. Now, what could be better fuel for his twisted plan than a little unspoken resentment towards your oblivious boyfriend?

"Didn't notice?" he feigned obliviousness, milking the moment for all its worth.

"The skirt" you explain, kicking your feet playfully in the dirt. "Don´t really know why I care, though. He doesn't pay much attention to these things”

There it was, the confirmation he craved. Your fucking dumb boyfriend was failing you in all the ways that truly mattered. And Luke, oh, Luke was more than happy to fill that void.

In the mean way.

"Well, he's an idiot then" Luke stated firmly, his voice low and intense.

“Luke” you whined.

“What?” he cut you off with a humorless laugh, the sound tinged with a bitterness that made you uneasy. "Is it because of his busy schedule?" he mocked, his eyes narrowing. “Can’t say nice things to his girlfriend?”

You stared at him for a moment, your gaze unwavering. Your brows furrowed in a frown, and you tilted your head slightly, studying him with an intensity that made Luke suddenly feel analyzed. You leaned in, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. The movement brought you closer. His breath hitched a second as your eyes met his, framed by those long, mesmerizing lashes. It was as if you were looking not just at him, but right through him, searching for something.

"Why do you hate him so much?" you blurted out, the question tumbling from your lips before you could stop yourself.

Luke scoffed, the sound harsh and dismissive. "I don't hate him" he stated, but his voice lacked conviction. You raised your eyebrows, hiding a smile forming on your lips. “Hey, I mean it” he insisted, playfully pushing at your shoulder. "Just… feels like you're with someone who doesn't pay attention to you" he continued, his voice low and intense.

The casual tone he used, disarming and friendly, made you physically jolt a little. Luke managed to bite his tongue, swallow the jealousy and anger like a thick pill. He was a master manipulator. He wouldn't play his hand this early.

Unease settled in your stomach. "It's not always like that" you mumbled defensively.

"No?" he countered, his gaze unwavering. The firelight danced in his eyes, you couldn't help but look away, his intensity a little too much to handle.

"No" you repeated, your voice barely a whisper. "It's not his fault he's not interested in the things I like."

"Yeah, but you’re interested in everything about him, right?" Luke pressed, his voice soft but laced with something like a challenge, making you think twice before you answer.

His words hit a nerve, and you found yourself looking down at your lap, picking at a loose thread on your skirt. He was right, of course.

The silence stretched. A slow, teasing smile played on Luke's lips. He saw the doubt creeping into your eyes, the seed of discontent he'd been carefully planting beginning to sprout.

"You should find someone else, sweetheart" he said finally, his voice a husky murmur. He reached out and gently brushed a stray strand of hair that had escaped your braid and gotten caught in your earring.

You met his gaze, your eyes wide and searching. The playful banter had completely vanished, replaced by a tension so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.

"There are a couple of guys out there," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "who would kill for you to even look at them." He punctuated his sentence with a quick wink.

You breath out a nervous laugh, heat flooding to your cheeks. "You're such a drama queen, Luke" you finally managed, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"’M not sure about that" he conceded, leaning back slightly, but never taking his eyes off you. "But sometimes that´s what you need. A little drama, excitement. Could make you see things a little clearer”

Days went by, and the conversation with Luke replayed on loop in your head.

´Drama. Excitement´

On the surface, everything seemed fine. Your boyfriend was kind, reliable, everything you thought you wanted. It felt comfortable and safe, yet… predictable. That sparkle that Luke talked about, that was absent.

You´d try to shake off your thoughts. One moment you'd convince yourself it was all a silly game you were willing to play. The next, you'd find yourself lost in a daydream, picturing Luke's dark eyes burning into yours, his voice, his touch. You tried to maintain a facade of normalcy, telling yourself he was just a friend, a confidante.

But the traitorous part of you craved more.

Luke, meanwhile, felt like a predator closing in on his prey. Your growing confusion fueled his ambition, every stolen glance, every conversation, a victory in his twisted and sick game. He watched your boyfriend with growing contempt, the sight of his hand roaming in the curves of your body making him clench his fists in rage. It should be him, Luke, pulling you close at night in his bed, whispering in your ear. He yearned to see you smile for him. He yearned to claim you, to make you his own for once and for all.

So his façade started to fall off. His possessiveness became more blatant, his touches lingering a fraction of a second too long. His calculating approach was slowly giving way to a burning need, a possessive hunger he couldn't suppress much longer.

One night at the bonfire, while everyone enjoyed a good time and shared laughter and music, Luke didn´t see you there. He shifted his gaze to his surroundings, his attention snagged on the figure of you nestled deeper into the shadows.

As usual, you were captivating, your animated expression and rapid-fire gestures suggesting a heated conversation with someone unseen. The distance made it impossible to discern the words, but the set of your jaw and the slight flush creeping up your neck told a clear story – you were arguing.

Then he noticed. It was your boyfriend.

And as soon as he saw you storm off in anger, alone, into the woods. He followed.

He kept a safe distance, ensuring you wouldn't notice his presence. The woods, shrouded in darkness except for the occasional sliver of moonlight filtering through the leaves, were easy to navigate for him. Finally, he spotted you. You were huddled on the floor, your knees drawn up to your chest, a muffled groan escaping your lips.

“Hey” he called out softly.

You spun around. Luke´s figure stood behind you, hands in his cargo pockets, the shadows painting his face. “Hi” you reply, getting on your feet again, turning to him.

He knew what he wanted to say, what he needed to say for you to dip into his arms. But he was good at playing dumb too, so he waited a little more.

"Um… is everything alright?" he asked, feigning concern.

You crossed your arms over your chest, a shadow of your earlier anger flickering in your eyes. "Yeah, just…" you trailed off, searching for the right words. "Feeling the need to punch something that's not my boyfriend's face."

A sardonic chuckle escaped Luke's lips. "Now that's a feeling I can relate to," he said, taking a tentative step closer. You shot him a glare. “That´s a joke, sweetheart” he added. He didn´t manage to make you laugh, but you rolled your eyes and your lips curved into a small smile.

You leaned back against the rough bark of a tree, letting out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" Luke's voice asked, gently. He was standing a few feet away from you.

"It's been like this for days" you finally began, your voice thick with frustration. "And it's my fault. He says I'm acting weird, different, like something's in my head” You sigh “And maybe he's right."

Luke followed your gaze as it drifted to a patch of wildflowers growing at your feet. "So he just can't stand you having second thoughts about your relationship?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

You bristled at his words. "I never said I'm having second thoughts," you defended, a spark of defiance igniting in your eyes.

"But you are" he countered, his voice low and steady.

You shook your head, the movement sharp and jerky. "No" you insisted, a tremor in your voice betraying a touch of uncertainty. "I don't want to leave him, but…" Your voice trailed off, and you shifted your gaze, avoiding his eyes. "That conversation we had," you continued softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "what you said. It got me thinking."

A surge of satisfaction coursed through Luke. Bingo. He'd managed to plant the seeds of doubt, to make you question a relationship that once seemed solid.

"Yeah?" he pressed, his voice barely a murmur, encouraging you to elaborate.

You paused, your brow furrowed in concentration. It was strange, you were confiding in him, this boy who was practically your opposite. Yet, his words had resonated with you, stirred something you hadn't quite acknowledged before.

"Or maybe you're just trying to get to my head 'cause you never liked him" you suddenly accused, a hint of suspicion coloring your voice.

He chuckled, a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe" he admitted shamelessly.

Doubt flickered in your eyes, chasing away the spark of defiance just as quickly as it appeared. "What are you trying to do, Luke?" you asked, your voice dropping to a soft whisper. "It feels like you're always trying to say something else to me," you continued, your voice barely above a breath, "but you never do."

The way you spoke, the vulnerability in your tone, it wrapped around Luke's brain and squeezed. His ears popped, a strange sensation accompanying the warmth that spread through his chest. You noticed. You saw the shift within him, the way his carefully constructed facade began to crack.

"Do you want me to be honest?" he finally asked, his voice husky and laced with a dangerous honesty.

You nodded, mesmerized by the raw intensity radiating from him. Gods, you were so naive, so blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within him. Luke wouldn't, couldn't, reveal the full extent of his obsession. He wouldn't confess to the months he'd spent dreaming about you, the way he'd snuck into your cabin late at night to steal something from your dresser, just to have a piece of you close. He wouldn´t confess how he let his mind race to the most sinful places, digging into thoughts about you that would eventually leave to him jerking one off in the bathroom.

He wasn't going to scare you away. No, his plan was far more subtle, a slow seduction that would eventually have you falling helplessly into his arms. He was going to peel back his facade just enough, letting you see a glimpse of the man beneath the rebellious exterior, a man who craved you and would treat you the way you deserved.

So he took another step closer.

"I can't stop thinking about you, yn" he confessed, his voice a husky murmur that sent shivers down your spine. The words hit you like a physical blow, unexpected and raw. A scoff escaped your lips, a nervous reaction to the sudden shift in the dynamic. You looked away, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

“Gods, Luke, you´re-,” you cut yourself off when his fingers brushed against your chin, gently tilting your face back towards his.

"It's true" he continued, his voice laced with a desperate honesty. "And I can't handle the fact that you're with someone who doesn't deserve you."

“Don´t be ridiculous, Luke” you say.

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze roaming over your face. "You're perfect, yn" he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "So beautiful, so smart. And you know it. Yet you settle for someone who takes you for granted. That's a little dumb of you, isn't it?"

The last sentence, delivered with a playful smirk, should have stung. It should have made you angry. But instead, a strange warmth bloomed in your chest. Perhaps it was the forbidden nature of the conversation, the way he was making you feel like a coveted prize.

And a terrible truth dawned on you - you weren't entirely innocent in this either. You had been feeling the same pull towards him, a flicker of something that went beyond friendship. You had enjoyed his attention, his way of seeing you, of truly seeing you.

But the reality of the situation slammed into you. "I have a boyfriend" you finally managed to say, your voice laced with a desperate attempt at determination.

He let out a chuckle, easily stepping on the thought of your boyfriend like some slug. "That´s a reminder to nobody but you, sweetheart"

Another tense silence. Luke raised his hand, placing it on the rough bark of the tree behind you, effectively trapping you.

"I know you've been thinking about what I said" he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. His eyes scanned your face, searching for any sign of doubt, any flicker of vulnerability. And he found it.

Doubt, like a poisonous vine, slowly crept through your mind. His words, his raw honesty, had shaken the foundation of your relationship.

"But you think too much of it, angel" he continued, his voice a seductive coo. He used the nickname with such ease, as if it had always been his right.

He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking to a hair's breadth. His hand reached out, a single finger tracing the delicate outline of your jawline.

"There's nothing wrong with having a little fun sometimes" he whispered. "It's what you want, after all, right?” he tilted his head slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. "Nobody's going to judge you" he continued, his voice a seductive promise. "It's just you and me. A little secret between us."

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. Every fiber of your being screamed that this was wrong, a betrayal of everything you held dear. Yet, a part of you, a selfish, yearning part, craved the thrill he offered.

"Don't get me wrong, Luke" you began, your voice trembling slightly. "I… I want this" you confessed, the words catching in your throat. "But I can't. I'm taken and you know it." The words tasted bitter on your tongue, a lie even to your own ears.

A slow, evil smirk spread across his face. It wasn't the dangerous kind of thrill you craved, but a chilling realization of the game he was playing.

"Oh, I get you, sweetheart" he said, his voice dripping with a mockery that made you flinch. "But when you're with him, you think about me, don't you?" Gods, he'd caught you. You couldn't deny it. Even with the guilt gnawing at you, the truth was undeniable.

Luke leaned closer, the space between you shrinking with each passing breath. He tilted his head, his curls tickling your cheek. He wanted to kiss you. You knew it, felt it in the way his lips hovered a breath away from yours.

And he stayed there, asking, as your breaths tangled together in shared exhales.

"But this is wrong, Luke" you whispered, your last attempt to hold onto the remnants of your sanity.

“No, it´s not” he breathed out, and in a swift motion, he grabbed you by the back of your neck and smashed his lips against yours. The other hand found your waist, pulling you flush against him.

It already surprassed your expectations the moment you felt his lips against yours. His desire was palpable, but it didn´t manifest as an animalistic manner. He was tender, passionate, and incredibly intoxicating.

His lips moved against yours in a way that left you breathless, his tongue pressing against yours and making it´s way inside your mouth with the fiflthiest wet sounds.

It was so delicious. You couldn´t imagine you´d find actual taste in someone´s lips, but whatever it was that Luke had on his, you wanted it all the time. He was hungry for you, pressing your back against the tree more and his hands travelled down to your hips, pulling you into his own.

But then you remembered; your boyfriend could be looking for you. "Luke?" you said. As you tried to speak, to convey some restraint, Luke´s kisses grew more insistent, refusing to let you utter a word. You attempted to push him away, but you only managed to rest your hands on his chest, pulling him closer instead by gripping fists on his shirt.

"Luke" you managed to call again. "We shouldn´t" you managed to murmur in between kisses, your words a weak attempt to resist the pull of his desire. But Luke only smirked into your lips, then started to softly, slowly, trail kisses down your neck.

"Just a little more, angel" he whispered against your skin a low and deep voice.

The sensation sent a shockwave through your body, each one drawing a sigh of pleassure from your lips as you instinctivily threw your head back, offering him more. The sensation was electric, leaving you squirming with anticipation under Luke´s skillful touch.

And then, he dropped to his knees.

His lips started to trail kisses on your knees and thighs, gripping on the soft flesh with his eyes up, looking at you, devouring you.

"Luke, no. Not here" you whispered, placing both hands on his shoulders in an attempt to resist the overwhelming power of his kisses. But he simply sushed you, drawing soft circles on your knees with his thumbs.

"Shhh" he cooed softly. "It´s okay, sweetheart. I´ll make you feel good, I promise" he reassured you, resuming his kisses up your legs.

You moaned when his teeth grazed a particularly sensitive part of your inner thigh. His hands found their way underneath your skirt, his touch already making you grow in excitement. He pulled your panties to the side with a confident ease.

Your clit was almost throbbing. Swollen and desperate for attention; he felt it the moment he dipped the tip of his finger on your entrace to coat over your sensitve bud with your own arousal.

"I´ll make you see what´s worth it, baby. Who is" he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with desire as he leaned in, dangerously.

"I´ll make you feel what the little bitch of your boyfriend can´t"

Your heart raced against your ribs at a scary pace. Partly because your boyfriend, or anyone, could walk into the scene, and partly because Luke´s head was burried in between your thighs, and he showed no signals of stopping anytime soon.

He was enthusiastic about it; gripping onto your legs and squeezing at the soft flesh as his tongue circled and licked in between your folds. You knew there was more to that, more that he wasn´t gonna show you yet, he was only getting started.

You moaned out loud and tugged at his curls when he pulled your lips apart with his thumbs and pressed a wet kiss straight to your clit, pulsing and desperate for attention, just like you were.

"Such a pretty girl" he planted a quick kiss on your inner thigh. "He doesn´t make you feel this good, does he?"

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beah388love · 7 months ago

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Green Daddy?

18+ Minors DNI!!!

Full Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

Pairing: Daddy!Bruce Banner x little!reader

Summary: Bruce turns into hulk….

Warnings: swearing,age regression,fighting,shouting,arguing,crying!!!(please tell me if I missed any!!!)

“Calm down You big Green Giant!” Tony said as he tried to hold onto the back of his arm.

Steve groans in pain as he feels the wall he was just thrown into break an echo going through the whole building.

Hulk threw his arm, causing Tony to go flying head first into a desk, luckily he was in his Ironman suit.

“Fuck me….” Nat said trying to catch her breath as she was also thrown off of hulks back, flipping her in the air directly onto the ground.

And that was when they heard a tiny voice amongst the shouting.

“Dada?”

“Sam” Tony shouted as he got up again trying to keep Bruce away from you.

Motherfucker. “Morning sweetie c’mere” Sam said in a high pitched voice as he held his arms out for you but you began to cry catching hulks attention.

“Dada? I want dada” you cried as you tried to push Sam’s arms off of you.

“C’mon pumpkin calm down” Sam said to you but it sounded more to himself when he saw hulk was walking towards you two.

He took two giant stomps whilst throwing Nat onto the floor and Thor into a wall.

“Cupcake?” Hulk roared as he stormed towards you and Sam.

“Fuck..fuck..” Sam muttered to himself as he shielded you behind him as you cried.

“Dada! I want my dada!” You cried as you tried to push Sam off of you.

You had seen hulk before, only once. And he accidentally bruised your arm from being too strong, but he didn’t mean to and everyone knew that except Bruce. He swore to never be around you as hulk after that.

Untiiiil now.

“Let her go” hulk roared to Sam as he tried to push him without hurting you.

“Hey you better get back! Because if you don’t then banner is gonna kill me!” Sam yelled and hulk shrugged pushing Sam away into the kitchen sides.

You gasped a cry when you saw Sam be thrown like that. “Dada! We don’t hurt friends!” You cried at him shaking a finger at him like he does to you.

Hulk sat down making the whole ground move.

He then hesitantly held his hand out, you walked onto it holding onto his finger when he lifted his hand up to his face.

“Cupcake” he mumbled to you softly, well soft for hulk anyway.

You was now eye to eye to him and he leaned in and gave you a ‘little’ peck on the nose but from his size it was more of a slobbery big kiss.

You giggled wiping your face.

You watched hulk slowly turn into your ‘normal dada’ again.

And instead of being in his hand you was now in his arms.

Bruce hugged you tightly breathing in your scent for comfort.

“Cupcake…you okay?” Bruce mumbled into your messy hair and you nodded

“M’tired dada” you yawned making him chuckle.

“Alright cupcake” he smiled holding you on his hip.

“Bruce?” Sam groaned in pain as he stood up.

“I’m sorry Sam..you alright?”

“Yeah no I’m great” Sam said sarcastically making you giggle.

“I’ll take care of these guys, you go get her to bed” Sam smiled at you giving your cheek a squish.

“Alright, see you in a bit” he said before taking you back to your bedroom.

“Dada you was Green! Like a booger!” You squealed making him laugh.

“I know baby..I know” he said through a chuckle.

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paperultra · 1 year ago

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the liminal space.

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 1,575 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol use [A/N: written with the cooper!reader from mise en rose in mind. i don't know where in the timeline this occurs, though. lol.]

cingulomania (noun): a strong desire to hold a person in your arms

Living in close quarters can really change how you see a person.

Roronoa Zoro, for instance, had always struck you as rather aloof, having traveled alone for some time before you joined him, and unused to physical affection. He never gave any indication that he was one to enjoy it, and he never sought it out from anyone. That certainly wasn’t odd. You respected his tendency towards personal space, subsequently believing that it extended to his sleeping habits as well.

So when you wake up, hardly able to breathe underneath the hulking mass of a snoring swordsman, you are more surprised than anything.

“Zoro,” you wheeze, patting his back with the hand that isn’t crushed between his chest and yours. Nothing happens, so you swat harder. “Zoro. You’re crushing me.”

His arms squeeze around you as he stirs, inhaling sharply next to your ear. You stop moving as he lifts his head and opens his eyes just wide enough to register you beneath him.

He pauses.

Good morning, sunshine is what you want to say in a cheeky tone. You want to prove that you’re unaffected by the warmth of his body pressing yours into the mattress, the sensation of his breath across your cheekbone and the way his gaze transitions from something bleary into something sharp.

The greeting refuses to leave your mouth. All you can do is blink.

The next thing you know, Zoro’s rolling off of you and out of bed with nary an apology, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.

You hum distantly in response and stare up at the ceiling as he shuffles to the door. Once he closes it behind him, you reach up and fold your hands over your eyes, cheeks hot.

Great.

—

It all started because you and Zoro could only afford a single bed at the inn.

(You use the term “afford” loosely here. The truth of the matter is that you grossly underestimated how much a room would cost, and the owner of the one place willing to lend you a room for half the usual rate demanded physical labor to make up for the rest. Given that Zoro would be spending most of his time hunting down a bounty, the majority of the unpaid labor fell on your shoulders.)

(But you digress.)

The room is small and bare, which is fine, because you and Zoro don’t have much between the two of you anyway. The only problem is that there is only one bed. Zoro had expressed no qualms about sharing so long as you didn’t disturb his sleep, and you had readily agreed, not wanting either of you to sleep on the floor.

After the first morning, you’re not sure if that was a lapse of judgement on your part or not.

Zoro doesn’t mention it at all before he leaves for the day, and you don’t, either. However, when he comes back in the middle of the night and you’re already in bed, squinting and shielding yourself from the bright hallway light as he takes his slippers off and walks in, he sits on the carpet just a few feet away from your side.

“What are you doing?” you ask as he proceeds to lay down.

“Sleeping.”

He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head. You frown.

“Why aren’t you sleeping up here?” No answer. You lift your head from your pillow, indignant. “Hey, don’t ignore me! I know you’re still awake.”

“I’ve had a long day,” he grumbles, “so I’d like some quiet so I can sleep. Thanks.”

You huff.

The thought that Zoro might actually be just as embarrassed flits briefly through your mind, but you extinguish it just as quickly. He’s never seemed like the kind of guy to be self-conscious about those kinds of things. A more likely reason is that he’s decided that he wants his own separate space after all and can’t be bothered to kick you off the bed.

So, you kick yourself off instead.

“What are you doing?” The phrase now comes from Zoro as you throw the covers off and grab your pillow, kneeling on the ground beside him. His eyes open and his brow furrows.

“Take the bed. I feel guilty.”

“I don’t want the bed.”

“Everybody wants the bed.” You lie down on the carpet and cross your arms over your chest, stubborn. “I’ve already slept in it. Now it’s your turn.”

“You’re an idiot,” Zoro says.

Neither of you budge.

The next morning, you decide that the first morning was in fact not a fluke, as you awake with your face smushed against his chest and the smell of steel in your nose once again. He’s not on top of you, at least, but the way he clutches you while you’re lying on your side, one ankle hooked over yours, is somehow ten times more mortifying. You wake him up in the midst of untangling yourself and pretend like nothing happened.

Who’s the idiot now? (The answer is both of you. Both of you are idiots.)

—

The third night, you and Zoro flop onto the hard mattress with twin groans, heads spinning and feeling overall miserable.

“That was the shittiest booze I’ve ever had,” Zoro slurs next to you, face down in his pillow.

“But you got a lead, right?” you mumble.

“Yeah …”

You had been there in the bar when he’d gotten that lead, but you can’t remember what it was for the life of you. Another inn? Another bar? Ugh, you’re never drinking there again.

“I’m cold.”

There are blankets on the bed. Unfortunately, getting underneath them would require a lot of moving, and you are physically incapable of exerting yourself that much right now.

You shiver and turn onto your side to curl up. You’ll fall asleep at some point, anyway.

Zoro murmurs your name.

“Hm,” you groan, eyes screwed shut.

He doesn’t say anything in reply. But you hear the mattress squeak, the bedsheets rustle as he shifts closer, and your breath catches when the small distance between you closes. He does not wrap his arms around you, no, but your knees touch, and the heat from his skin melds into yours. You hear his breathing slow to a crawl.

Through your drunken haze breaks through a sudden need to draw him into you, to tuck your face into his neck and keep it there forever. You want – you want. But you’re exhausted, and your head aches, so you find yourself slipping into a deep slumber instead.

He’s already gone when you wake up.

—

A suspiciously lumpy gunnysack in the corner of the room catches your eye once you enter, hand over your mouth to stifle a yawn.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Eight million beri,” Zoro says from his seat on the bed. Cleaning supplies for his swords are strewn around him, and he sheathes the Wado Ichimonji as you close the door. “I ran into another bounty on the way back.”

“Eight mill –” You clear your throat. “Wow. That was pretty lucky.” Eight million beri. Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get used to how much bounty hunters can make. (God, that would’ve been more than enough to pay for the room.) “We’re heading out to a marine base tomorrow morning, then?”

“That’s the plan.”

He puts away his supplies, setting them and his swords against the wall near his pillow before standing up to pull down the sheets on his side. You turn off the bedside lamp and do the same, crawling in with a sigh.

The two of you simply lie side-by-side until you decide to break the silence with your big mouth again.

“Am I a burden to you?” you ask.

“No.” The plainness of Zoro’s tone is a small comfort, you suppose. “Why are you asking?”

“Well …” You already regret bringing this topic up as you trail off, biting your bottom lip. “I feel like I haven’t really done much. I mean, I help with navigating and searching crowds and stuff, and I’ve been getting better at fighting, but I can’t help you, you know?” You fiddle with your fingers. “You don’t actually need me.”

There’s a gap between you and Zoro that you’ll likely never be able to close. You had always known that, and so had Zoro; in fact, he had told you at the start that going with him was a bad idea, given your inexperience in bounty hunting and traveling in general. And although you’d like to think that your ability to read a map and fix things convinced him of your usefulness, there are times when you think Zoro regrets bringing you along. Like now.

Zoro grunts, turning to lay on his back. His shoulder nearly lands on your hands, and you draw them to yourself as you wait for his answer.

It is brief and straightforward.

“I’m not forcing you to go with me,” he says. “And if you were a burden, I would’ve told you a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

It is brief and straightforward, and yet, there’s a strange lump in your throat. You swallow it and nod, even though he cannot see you do so.

Nothing more is said. However, as the night goes on, you reach out, and you find him, and Zoro finds you, and the space between your arms fills up with warmth and an unspoken promise. And you sleep very well.

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #opla zoro #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #'if they're broke how come they don't just sleep in reader's boat ?' you may ask.#and the answer is 'for plot purposes'#sorry if this one is wonky it wasn't cooperating for some reason ;-;#but reader gets to cuddle zoro ! that has to count for something right ?!

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angelpuns · 13 days ago

Text

“ GET BACK!” Leo gripped his katanas tightly, backing into the corner. The lumbering, spiky creature before him grimaced, holding his claws out like Leo was some sort of spoiler animal.

“ Leo, hey, what's goin' on, buddy?” The creature asked, voice softer than expected. It made Leo hesitant, if only for a second.

But it must have been a ploy. A trick to trap him and-and do god knows what!

“ I'M NOT YOUR BUDDY,” Leo hissed, keeping his eyes open for any movement from the hulking creature. If there was an opening, he'd have to take it, otherwise he'd have to portal away. It didn't feel right to leave this creature in his room, though, so that would be a last resort, “TELL ME WHO- WHAT YOU ARE! NOW!”

The creature blinked in mock surprise and took a step back. Good. Maybe Leo could stun it and then go out the back way to his room. It wasn't a great plan, but it was all he had right now. Hell, maybe he could scare the thing all the way out the door and fight it in the lobby. Sure, it was a lot bigger than him, but he had two swords and it has nothing.

“Wh- it's me! It's Raph!” The creature raised its voice a little, then immediately softened it again, “it’s- you're safe, Leo, its just me. You're in the lair. We're all safe…”

It was holding its hands out again and took two steps forward. Leo backed further into the corner and cursed under his breath. This was the opposite of what he wanted.

“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME!? WHY ARE YOU IN MY ROOM!?” He bit out, cycling through several more half-baked plans where he didn't have to portal and didn't mess up his room. He didn't want to leave this guy here to mess it up either if he could.

“ We're- we're brothers, remember? We explained it yesterday…. You were cursed by a witch and-”

Leo scoffed, “ that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! You've got 3 seconds to leave before I cut you to pieces!”

He’d always been more of a playful banter guy than a ‘threaten to literally kill you’ guy, but this was dire. There was literally a random, dangerous looking creature-guy in his home. He wasn't gonna rake any chances to be funny, not right now.

“Okay, okay. Let's just calm down, Leo….I really need you to take a deep breath and-and uh…name five things you see?” the guy - Raph, he'd said - was speaking even quieter, and getting even closer.

He took another step forward and Leo couldn't think- there was nowhere to run, he was trapped.

The creature reached forward slowly, mimicking slow breathing and Leo lashed out with his sword, barely nicking the guy’s arm with it. He either had tough scales or Leo was still too far to do any damage.

He hissed in pain, and Leo saw a bit of red there, but he couldn't wait to find out if he'd finally pissed this guy off.

He cut a portal beneath him and fell into it, heartbeat pounding his ears and electricity thrumming through his body. He heard a cut off “ LEO, WAIT-” before the portal closed and all he heard was the sounds if the city below him.

When he landed he was on a rooftop, somewhere far from his room and far from the creature. The sun was peeking above the horizon, a sudden chill making him shiver. Of course he couldn't have thought to put on a hoodie. Then again, he had been unexpectedly ambushed.

At least he'd gotten away without a scrape.

And not a moment too soon, because for a split second he'd seen two more guys in his doorway, each with shocked and then angry expressions. If he'd stayed even a second he'd be a goner, he just knew it.

For now, he was safe. Now to think of a plan.

----

Here's a blurb of that idea! I've written a chapter outline but writing has been hard lately, so I'm just gonna keep it in my docs for now. It might become a fic and it might become a comic, who knows. For now thus is what I've got. I just really wanted to write this bit :)

Part 1 | Part 3

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanart #rottmnt leo #rottmnt fanfic #rottmnt comic #rottmnt au #au

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bbsmuts · 2 months ago

Text

Mistaken Identity ft. Allissa Shin

A/N: Aaaaaand we have a special guest tonight, Miss Allissa Shin! I imagine this is something of a curveball, since I've never broken away from K-Pop idols, but here we are. I can't find fics of her ANYWHERE, so I guess it's good that I get to be the pioneer of it. Note that she will be one of the only people I write about outside of K-Pop, so don't bother requesting Taylor Swift or anything. This was another phenomenal pitch from @xiaoondc, the main contributor to my current success. It's also starting to seem like my readers are into BBC gangbangs, considering the number of pitches I have and have had that involve them. Allissa Shin looks so much like Rosé it's almost impossible to tell them apart in some photos. I'm ramping up the use of daddy and of tildes in this one at the suggestion of readers. So without further ado, I present Mistaken Identity. Forgive me if I spell her name with only one L, my brain thinks it should be spelled like that. Also prepare yourself for overly excessive use of tildes in Allissa's speech.

{Note: Any and all photos of Allissa Shin used in this work are 100% real and can be found on her Instagram, allissashin}

-상훈

Length: 5.34k

Possible TW: Bondage, spanking

Tags: Gangbang, BBC gangbang, DP, bondage, spanking, 69, cunnilingus, rimming

Allissa rapped the counter with her knuckles and traded another bill for another shot of whiskey from the bartender. She swallowed half of it, relishing in the spicy, woody taste with the subtle hint of sweet, and the burn that followed the liquor down her throat, making her wince a bit.

"Too strong?" The bartender asked, rubbing a glass with a pristinely white cloth. "I can get something lighter."

"Nah, it's perfect." She downed the rest of the shot and handed him back the shotglass, leaning back in the plush seat. "How many was that?"

"Nine." He replied, washing out her glass and drying it before it took its place in the cabinet. "Going through something?"

"Nope. Just felt like a being a little extra drunk tonight."

He chuckled. "Well, I'd advise you to be careful, Miss Shin. There are some who would take advantage of your intoxication."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind."

A huge, hulking black guy took the seat to her left, quickly joined by four of his buddies. From a glance in their direction, she could see that each and every one of them was not only very muscular and very attractive, and they were all wearing tank tops and sweatpants to prove it. The one closest to her had a large dragon tattooed on his right arm. She felt a distinct rush of arousal course through her, which might've been from the alcohol, but she liked it either way.

"The usual, I assume, Ekon?" The bartender asked. (I figured Ekon would be a good one because it's an Nigerian name that literally translates to "strong", which is quite fitting, considering who he is.)

"That's right. And one for all of my homies, on me." The guy on her left said in a deep, rumbling voice.

The bartender nodded and whisked away to prepare the drinks, and the guy threw a glance at Allissa.

"Oh shit, is that you, Chaeyoung? Yo guys, it's Rosie! Wassup!"

She looked over, confused, as the other guys erupted into cheers.

"Uhm...h-hi." She replied amongst the whoops. "Not to be rude or anything, but do I...know you guys?"

"Wow, after all this time you forgot about yo closest homies?" another one said, feigning tears. "Daaaamn."

'They must be mistaking me for someone else," she thought, watching them all colloquially fake being sad, during the course of which she conveniently heard all their names. 'Well...they are all really cute, I guess it couldn't hurt to play along.'

"Oh, shit, hey! I didn't recognize you guys at first!" She said in a bright tone, smiling. "Sorry about that, it's been too long!"

"Man, you gon' break a brother's heart messing 'round like that, forgettin' us." said the one directly to her left.

She laughed. "Yeah, sorry about that, E."

"Nah, you all good. Ayo!" He called to the bartender, who was still mixing the drinks. "Lemme get one for my homegirl over here too!"

He nodded and continued his mixing.

"What'd you order?" She asked.

"Girl, you don't even remember my go-to? Damn, we really ain't seen each other in a fat minute. I got all us some good shit, rum and liqueur and stuff."

"Ah." She said. "Sounds good."

"Trust him, it is good." One guy on the end tapped in. "And don't take too much, because that shit'll have you on the ground if you take one sip too many."

"Yo, remember back in high school? She couldn't handle anything!" This caused a fair amount of laughs, which needled her into speech.

"Yeah? Let's see how I am now then. I already had nine shots of Jim Beam."

"That's true." The bartender chimed in, bringing over the seven drinks. "Nine shots."

"Damn." Ekon said, accepting the drink and adjusted the chain on his neck. "Thanks, man. Somethin' musta changed since we last saw each other Chae, back then you could barely take one shot of henny. Nine shots of Jim Beam? That ain't never happenin' seven years ago."

Allissa suddenly realized something. 'Are they mistaking me for Rosé?' She thought. 'No way...well, still can't hurt to play a long a bit.'

"Well, a lot's changed in seven years." She said as the other guys calmed down, taking a small sip of her drink. "This is good."

He nodded. "Sure is. Rum, coconut liqueur, pineapple juice, orange juice, stuff like that. So how you been?"

"Pretty good. You?"

"Same. Life's been good. You ever get that modeling gig you was always after?"

"Funnily enough, I did." She had actually gotten into modeling, just not the gig he was referencing. "Pretty successful."

"Oh, so you got some bands. Nice. I got a question though, don't answer if you don't wanna."

"Go for it."

"You still a virgin?"

"Hell no." She replied immediately. Allissa didn't know whether or not Rosé was a virgin, but she certainly wasn't.

"Really?" He downed the last sip of his cocktail. "Something's changed about that attitude too. Last time we saw each other you was saying you weren't gonna lose it until you got married."

"Guess I changed my mind." She took another sip of hers.

"How many?" Another guy down the line, who'd been lying attention to the conversation said. She didn't have to ask what he meant.

"Nine." She replied.

Ekon nodded. "Respectable amount. Less than I would've expected, to be honest."

She raised an eyebrow. "I said I'm not a virgin, not that I'm a whore."

He raised his hands. "My bad, gang, my bad. So you going anywhere else tonight?"

"I wasn't planning to, but I wouldn't mind."

"You wanna come back to our place?"

She was suddenly very aware of how sheer and tight her dress was, and more aware of how the defined muscles of Ekon's arms rippled with every movement.

She didn't say anything, but he could definitely figure out the change in expression on her face.

"Well?"

"S-sure, yeah." She said, voice wavering a little.

He turned to the guy on his left. "Yo, she coming home with us. Y'all finished?"

The other one smirked, nodded, and passed the news on while Eli turned back to Allissa, a smirk on his face too.

"You finished with the drink?"

Despite her anticipation and slight nervousness, she put on a bolder face and downed the last bit of the cocktail.

"I am now."

"Alright," he said, smiling wider, grabbing his keys, and tossing the bartender a wad of bills. "Let's roll."

...

Bursting through the doors into the cool night air was refreshing after the interior of the bar. Though cozy, it was warm and a little stuffy inside. Her steps were definitely weaving a little, but she made it to Eli's car alright. A classic '69 Pontiac GTO, painted black.

"Yo! You driving?" One of the other guys called to Ekon.

"Nah, you drive, Adrian. I wanna, uh...catch up with Rosie."

Allissa took the back seat, Adrian driving and another riding shotgun, and Ekon in the back with her. The engine awoke with a roar and the headlights switched on, illuminating the dark parking lot.

"I gotta say, Chae, you been doing some developing." Ekon commented as they started down a dark boulevard.

She had a feeling she already knew what he meant, but she asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean..." he gestured to her body then outlined a curvaceous figure in the air with his hands.

She blushed, hitting him on his muscular arm. "Stop!"

"I ain't joking, man. I mean...damn."

She giggled. "Thank you..."

He grinned. "Really is good to see you again though, Chae."

"You too. What are we doing when we get there?"

"We gonna figure that out when we get there. But I know you ain't stupid, you could take a good guess."

One look at his expression told her all she needed to know, and she looked away, the thought causing a thrill of anticipation and a fresh wave of arousal to a certain place in her lower region. She pressed her thighs together, trying to stave off getting turned on, but she couldn't stop her gaze from wandering over to his chiseled torso, on which every line, curve, and detail was put on display by the tight white muscle shirt. She found herself unconsciously licking her lips as her gaze roved over his perfect cumgutter abs, outlined pecs, and massively ripped arms. And from what she could see, he had a hell of a package in his boxers. (I feel so gay writing this entire part💀)

"Like what you see?" Her excitement and intense gaze did not go unnoticed.

"Mm, yes, I do~" It might've been the alcohol fueling her words, but part of it was coming directly from down below.

He chortled. "Yeah, I bulked up. Been going to the gym a lot recently."

She slid a hand over his rock-hard thigh, gently squeezing the fibers which felt like steel under her fingers. She gasped in pure arousal as her hand moved onto an absolute monster of a cock, which was massive without even being erect.

"Oh my god~" She massaged the phallic behemoth and moved closer on the seat, allowing him to put his arm over her shoulders and pull her into him. His powerful grip and iron-fiber muscles around her turned her on even more. His hand moved slowly downward, caressing the soft round of her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. She gasped again softly as his index finger traced her nipple, her sensitivity kicked up by the alcohol and how purely turned on she was.

"Save it for the room, y'all," said Adrian. "Ain't no one wanna see that."

"Don't even lie, bro, you know you want a piece." Ekon fired back. "Homie try to bullshit me..." he muttered. The other shrugged and stopped talking.

It was only a short ride more before they arrived at a large, mostly White House that resembled a a palace, with marble columns and everything. Allissa, even being the owner of a not-so-humble estate herself, was shocked at the sheer size and grandeur of the mansion.

"This is where you live?" Pleasure forgotten temporarily, she pressed her face against the window and gazed like an awestruck child.

Ekon chuckled, bringing his hand down to her now-exposed ass and giving it a strong squeeze. "Yup. There's five of us, we all live in the same joint."

"Wow..." His fingers wandered a little lower, pulling up the bottom hem of her dress so her thong was exposed.

"Damn, Chae, a thong?" He chuckled a little more. "Didn't know you was gettin' yo freak on so much."

"Mmhmm~" She bit her lip at the sight of his cock hard and straining against his sweats. "Fuck, you're big..."

Undergoing a sudden change of demeanor as they pulled into the driveway, he pressed her against the seat by the neck and spoke in his deep rumble of a voice. "And you want that, don't you?"

"Yes, daddy, I do~" Her voice came out as a whimper, his dominance only serving to make her more needy. "I want it a lot~"

"Well, yo ass bouta get it, hard."

"Oh yes, please, daddy," she moaned, his hands on her making her wet. "I want it!"

Ekon had opened his mouth to say something in return when the voice in the passenger seat piped up again.

"Y'all! We are 20 feet from the damn house, hold off for a second!"

"Aight, my bad bro. But you," he said, returning his hand to her neck as she giggled at Adrian, "better keep your little slut mouth shut."

"Yes, daddy," she said submissively, getting wetter by the second. They all got out of the car and walked quickly into the house, followed by the other two from the other car. The moment they all piled in through the door and it closed, Ekon pinned her arms to the wall above her head with one hand and kissed her, tongue aggressively pushing into her mouth. She moaned, his other hand going to her neck, while other hands pulled up her dress and caressed various other parts of her. Before long she was rid of her dress and left only in her bra and panties.

They backed off momentarily to admire her curvy, sexy figure. After a few "damn"s, they converged once more and she was pinned against the wall again.

She bit her lip as hands slipped into her panties and bra, teasing her sensitive spots and making her moan. Her hands, helplessly held above her head, twisted and writhed as multiple fingers plunged into her entrance, teased her sensitive clit, and rubbed over her nipples, assaulting her senses from every side. It had been a while since she had anyone, and she found herself quickly approaching her first orgasm.

"I'm gonna cum," she panted, gasping as several fingers found and roughly fingered her g-spot. "Oh god yes, I'm gonna cum!"

"Already?" Ekon said, triceps inconveniently flexing and turning her on more as he pushed against her hands and throat. "You little slut."

"Mmm, yes~" She moaned with rapid breaths, arching her back in pleasure. "You're gonna make me cum~"

His hand left her throat and slapped her face, leaving a small stinging mark in its wake. She was surprised at first and then felt a warm surge of sensual humiliation send a jolt straight to her pussy.

"A-ahh, fuck, yes, yes, ngghh yes, I'm cumming!" She bucked her hips off the wall, crying out in loud pleasure as she squirted on the many hands teasing her. She slid down the wall as the guys backed off, chest heaving even from the light orgasm she just had.

Apparently they weren't patient enough to postpone fucking her, so with little more ado they hoisted her to her feet and onto the rich white leather couch, a couple of them removing her panties and bra. Shirts were removed around her, filling her sight with abs and ripped arms. Jeans and sweats were next, taking boxers with them and leaving everyone present completely naked, and the other guys backed off as Ekon approached and went behind her.

She let out a sharp cry as a massive cock penetrated her pussy and immediately shattered whatever semblance of coherent thought she had left. The sheer size inside her stretched her walls out and caused a fair deal of pleasure and slight pain.

"Please," she murmured quietly, arching and then wiggling her ass to allow him better access, "ruin me."

He wasted no more time and started ruthlessly pounding her, loud claps on skin on skin sounding as he slammed his hips into her ass. She couldn't control the cries that left her mouth, face contorting in pleasure.

"Fuck!" She yelled, his cock reaching unbelievable depths inside her. "Oh my god yes, you're sso big! Oh yes, daddy, fuck my pussy!"

She could hear commentary from the five others, but her mind was too far gone to pay attention to it. He roughly grabbed her arms and held them behind her back, ramming her into the couch and leaving her helpless to the relentless assault on her tight tunnel.

"Yes, yes, yes, fuck! Don't stop, please keep going daddy!"

"Shut the fuck up and take it, you little whore." He leaned some of his weight on her, letting him growl in her ear, and pressed his hand over her mouth, muffling her moans.

"Mmph! Yes daddy!" Her voice was muted by his hand. He let go of her mouth and she turned her head to the side to survey his body. His hands left the couch as well, abs flexing to hold himself up as both hands were brought down on her supple ass in a punishing smack.

"Oh yes, spank me! Spank me harder daddy!" He gladly complied, landing more hard slaps on her ass. The sting brought her a blissful mix of pain and pleasure that was building up an orgasm like an edifice inside her.

"Shit, I'm gonna cum!" She heard the low groan behind her, accompanied by a few more spanks, and bucked her hips back into him as much as she could.

"Are you ready to take my cum, little slut?"

She nodded eagerly, still being slammed into the couch by his relentless thrusts. He delivered another hard spank to her ass, grip tightening on her arms behind her back.

"Try again."

"Yes, daddy!" She cried, eyes rolling into her head as the pleasure overtook her. "I want all of it, give me your cum, please daddy!"

A moan sounded behind her and a second later, a hot current of cum streaming into her pussy. The feeling of being filled with his cum overwhelmed her senses and threw her headlong into a strong orgasm; a wail of pleasure left her as she arched her back and squirted hard onto him.

She got barely a few moments' recovery before all the others approached and loaded onto the couch. Ekon stepped away and let them take their turn, and after one of them lifted her leg and positioned himself under her, she was penetrated in her ass and pussy by two enormous cocks.

Nothing but a gutteral, throaty moan was produced by her already overworked vocal cords. But she noticed two more guys walking around to her backside, and a thought crossed her foggy mind. They weren't going to...were they?

Her question was answered as the feeling of two more hard, throbbing tips pressing against her entrances sent signals of ecstasy to her receptors. With little more ado and no consideration for how much they were stretching her out (which was overloading her with pleasure), the shafts of the tips thrusted inside her.

"Fuck!" Pleasure turned her mind to mush for a moment as she briefly lost touch with reality. Two cocks in each hole; she hadn't been fucked like this in ages.

No, she hadn't been fucked like this ever.

Various murmurs of dirty things reached her ears, but none of them really registered with her brain. She kept up her dialogue of submissive moans, her pleas growing more and more wanting as she got more and more desperate.

"Oh yes, fuck my pussy," she panted, yelping as the smacks pelted down on her ass cheeks. "Fucking give it to me! Harder!"

All four cocks were pumping in and out of her with furious vigor; her pussy was soaked like a monsoon, and was made even wetter by the obscenities and degradation coming from behind her.

"Yeah, take these dicks, you slut!"

"You like being filled up like this, whore?"

"Yes daddy~" she whimpered, being overloaded with sensation. "I want all of your cocks in my tight little cunt! I'm your slutty little toy, keep fucking me just like that, yes!"

More spanks rained down on her ass, causing more waves of pleasure-pain to spread through her and intensifying the telltale tingling in her pussy.

"Oh fuck yes! More!" She cried. "Spank me harder!"

To her slight dismay, the slaps stopped. But a second later, something that stung a lot and something that was definitely not a hand made contact with her pinkened ass cheeks. She glanced around just as the strap was brought down on her once more, and a hand slapped her face. Her arousal turned to the max, she bit her lip and turned back around to a cock in her face. Without a second thought she opened her mouth and allowed it to push past her lips. She sucked passionately and hungrily, ignoring the slight discomfort she felt when his length went down her throat.

"Fuck, such a good little slut. Ain't that right, Rosie?" Ekon's deep voice was easily recognizable.

She nodded vigorously and continued impaling her throat on his massive cock. Her eyes rolled back and she gagged as her mouth and nose made contact with his pubes. She flicked her tongue out to trace circles on his balls as he grabbed her hair and held her right where she was. Slurping obscenely, she stuck out her tongue as far as possible to let him push every last centimeter into her squeezing throat.

"Mmph!" Her moans and gags were muted, but had she been able, the whole neighborhood would have heard her screams. She was going to cum and she knew it, the many cocks invading her holes proving to be too much to handle.

"Phhk!" More strikes from the strap, more thrusts from the guys. "Guhnuh kmm!"

Their hands stroked and caressed her passionately, in stark contrast to their cocks brutally, mercilessly pounding her. No relent, no mercy, no caring for anything more than raw pleasure. And she loved it that way.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cum!" She brought her head off Ekon's shaft and cried out to the room. "It's so fucking good, yes!"

She couldn't take it anymore. Her back arched and her hips bucked against them as her third orgasm slammed into her like a truck, her body trembling with the force of her squirting. Her arms gave out and her front half collapsed, burying her face in the couch. Still, there was no pause in the way they pitilessly railed her, driving their thick cocks in and out of all her holes.

Vaguely, she heard every single one say they were, too, on their way to orgasm, which brought her back to reality. She threw her head back and shouted out her pleasure, and her desire to be filled with cum.

"Please, daddy, cum inside me! Fill me up like the pathetic little cumslut I am! I want all of daddy's cum inside my tight little pussy!"

She bucked her hips into them in desperate need of another orgasm. Slaps landed on her face, heightening her arousal and making her even wetter, making her clench around the rods fucking her, adding to their pleasure.

"Fuck yes, breed me daddy! Fill up my pussy with your hot cum and breed me!" Her own dirty talk was turning her on as well as them, a fresh coat of slick lubricating her.

And then suddenly all four of them pushed as far as they could and bottomed out inside her, simultaneously painting her walls with thick ropes of warm, white cream and triggering her fourth orgasm. With a scream and a shaking body her pussy erupted, spraying their thighs with her own cum. One by one, each cock slid out of her, eliciting a whimper from her, and she was able to let her hips fall. Trembling and hypersensitive, she turned over and laid flat on her back, already feeling the cum start to leak out of her and drip down to the couch.

After a minute she sat up slightly and looked between her own thighs, where their cum and her juices were slowly soaking into the couch cushion.

"Oops," she giggled, letting her head fall back over the couch arm. "Guess you might have to get a new cushion."

Ekon chuckled from the other couch. "Chae, if we gave a damn, we'd fuck you on the bed."

He got up and walked away, his massive, semi-hard cock swinging from side to side. Despite having had four orgasms already, she found herself getting wet again at both the sight of him and the thought of getting fucked again. She reached down and gasped as she accidentally brushed her own clit; the touch sent pleasure shooting through her. Her soft moans did not go unnoticed, and as she fingered herself, they converged. She spread her legs eagerly, but instead of fucking her, one of them lowered his head to her soaking, tingling pussy and pressed his tongue against her clit. A high-pitched gasp left her mouth and her hands clamped down on the cushion as her hips immediately and automatically started grinding into his face.

"Oh god, yes," she moaned, eyebrows contracting up as he deftly swiped at her pussy. "Fucking eat me, daddy..."

Allissa felt her arousal and pleasure growing quickly. Clattering came from the next room where Ekon was.

"Oh yes, give it to me, daddy!" She cried, closing her eyes bucking her hips hard against his tongue. "Your tongue feels so good!"

She felt a cock press against her lips and immediately opened her mouth to let it in. She sucked on it hungrily, bobbing her head up and down.

Then someone pushed her legs up into the air, bringing her hips up, and she felt the tongur slide lower, down to her asshole. She shivered at the foreign sensation, and at the same time felt movement above her. To her slight shock, a second tongue planted itself on her pussy, and she looked down to see that the man whose dick was in her mouth had maneuvered into the top side of a 69 to eat her out. This allowed him enough leverage to thrust his hips into her face, driving his cock deep down her throat.

At that moment Ekon returned, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a massage wand in the other. Pinned down by 150 pounds of muscle, she could do nothing as he slipped the wand under the abs of the other guy and pressed it against her nipple. She moaned into his base, the vibrations adding to all the stimulation she was getting. The tongues probing her holes were very quickly catapulting her to her fifth orgasm; they had her bucking her hips and moaning with ease. Ekon's vibrator made her want to writhe and squirm, but she was helplessly trapped by the muscular body above her. Together, the sensations proved too much once more.

Wailing in ectsasy into the thick member in her throat, she clutched at his back and squirted intensely right into his mouth; the tongue in her ass was suddenly replaced by the head of a cock, closely followed by its shaft. Tears sprang to her eyes as she orgasmed again, hips jerking wildly as more cum streaming out of her.

Someone grabbed her and turned her over, sliding under her and pushing into her oversensitive pussy. Before she even had time to react, two more stretched out her saliva-covered asshole, and Ekon's cock returned to her mouth. From behind her, someone grabbed her hands and roughly tied them together. Someone grabbed her hair and pulled viciously, and Ekon slapped her face on both cheeks.

As soon as the others had come, she felt that all-too-familiar buildup of heat in her core. They reached points inside her she never knew could be hit, fucked her harder and better than she had ever been fucked in her life. Hands tied behind her back, hair being savagely pulled, ass being spanked hard, pussy, ass, and throat being mercilessly railed and used. There was no return to normal sex after this.

More slaps landed on her ass, thighs, face, and breasts, each one sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through her. She could feel herself and all the shafts inside her throbbing with need for release, and that they got.

The first one set off a chain reaction. The one under her groaned and buried himself balls deep inside her, explosively cumming and sending another tirade of warmth into her. At the same time, she and Ekon both met their orgasms, another load spurting down her throat. Several streaks of cum splattered onto her stomach, breasts, and face from the bystanders. A spray of her own cum splattered the thighs of the two fucking her ass, and the increased tightness of her ass caused two more loads to jet into her bowels. And then a second orgasm in a row hit her.

"FUCK!" she screamed as Ekon's softening length slid out of her mouth. Waves of ecstasy and intense pleasure slammed through her one by one, her mind going blank as they overtook her. Her world was a haze of bliss, and she could barely manage to crack open her eyes once the throbbing in her well-fucked cunt died down.

Each cock pulled out of her holes, followed by a steady flow of slick and thick cum. When she had recovered sufficiently, she raised her head and saw that her body was a mess of handprints, red marks from slaps and spanks, bruises, cum streaks, and sweat droplets. Spent and well-used, she let her head fall back onto the armrest.

A short while later she got up and wiped all the various bodily fluids off herself with a towel and then returned to the living room, once-coiffed-and-pretty hair disheveled and, in her opinion, sexy as hell.

"Seems a lil' bit ironic to ask, but did you like it?" Ekon asked, reclining in a seat, as she flopped onto a different couch.

"Yes~" she replied, biting her lip and giggling. "A lot."

Gesturing to the amount of cum still leaking out of her pussy and ass, she said, "You boys really outdid yourselves this time, hm~"

He smirked and returned his attention to the glass of whiskey with an approving nod.

Then it occured to her that they were still under the impression that she was Rosé.

"Can I...can I be honest for a second?"

He nodded nonchalantly. "Go for it, homie."

"Well...I-I'm not Rosé." She said in a small voice.

All sets of eyes in the room roved around to her, a few eyebrows raised. "What?"

"I'm not Rosé." She blushed under their intense gazes. "You guys thought I was at the bar, and I thought you were really cute, so I played along, but I'm not Rosé, or whoever it is you thought I was. I'm really sorry."

Ekon and all the rest looked at her for a long moment, and then they all started laughing. Slapping their knees, rocking back and forth laughing.

"Wait, wait, wait." Adrian said, fighting to control his laughter. "So you tryna tell me I been fuckin' some random girl all of us dumbasses thought was our old homie?"

She nodded meekly, glad at least that they weren't mad.

The laughter erupted again, each one of them crying with mirth. Her face turned hot, her embarrassed in a way.

"Aww, she so cute when she blushin'," commented Ekon, still giggling over the mistaken identity.

"Shut up!" She blushed harder, giggling and covering her face with her hands.

He raised an eyebrow. "Come again?"

Realizing what he meant, she fell silent, a small blossom of arousal rushing to her pussy at his dominant tone.

"Do we need to punish you again?" His voice turned low, dangerous. She was silent for a moment, the small blossom blooming into a large and very wet flower.

"Yes please, daddy~"

A/N: I searched everywhere for more Allissa Shin smuts, and they don't exist. I mean, I searched on Tumblr, AO3, FFN, AFF, everywhere. So I guess I get to be the pioneer of Allissa Shin fics. Yay. This shouldn't have taken me a month to write, but wifi router problems, a considerable period of writer's block, work, and a fair amount of procrastination delayed it. Hope you enjoyed.

#allissa shin #smut #allissa shin smut

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redvelvetcupcakes21 · 2 months ago

Text

Small Halloween fic based on this post

Buck knew Tommy's biggest secret, that despite their friends thinking Tommy was the "cool guy", Tommy was indeed the biggest dork Buck had ever met.

Buck wasn't complaining though because it made Tommy cooler in his eyes.

So it didn't surprise Buck one bit that Tommy absolutely loved Halloween to the point where Buck had discovered that Tommy's house was the house to go to for trick or treating since Tommy always had a jump scare pranks for the older kids and full sized candy bars for everyone who came knocking.

And of course Tommy was a huge advocate of wearing costumes, he had shown Buck the costume he had worn during past Halloween parties from Captain America, Hulk, Super Mario, to a werewolf complete with a furry mask. Tommy was definitely into Halloween.

Which was why he was super excited to show Buck the costume he had picked out for Chimney and Maddie's Halloween party. The party was set to be adults only (The Lees had opted to take care of Jee, Denny and Mara for the evening) and fortunately it was when the 118 crew had a night off.

Tommy had been quiet about his options so all Buck knew was that Tommy was still deciding.

The costume options where the last thing Buck was thinking off when he returned to Tommy's home after a brisk run around the neighborhood, Buck had just mid swallowed a gulp of water when Tommy stepped into the kitchen with arms spread wide and asking Buck, "So what do you think?"

Buck choked on his water, spitting it everywhere as Tommy came up to clap him on the back. "Are you okay?" Tommy asked worriedly.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Buck asked, getting the air back into his lungs, his tone held no malice or anger. Buck was sure he was red all over and it wasn't because he was struggling to clear his throat.

But because Tommy was wearing a Spartan costume. The costume left little to nothing to the imagination. Buck's eyes were glued to Tommy's chest, were a harness was wrapped around his boyfriend's shoulders and chest, attached to a long red flowing cape and complete with pleather looking cuff wristbands. The happy trail on Tommy's stomach led to brown leather "shorts" that were essentially underwear and made Buck feel overheated and lightheaded all at once.

"You don't like it?" Tommy asked, looking genuinely wounded. He ran his fingers down the cape. "I thought it looked cool." He picked up the plastic sledge hammer that was tied to his "shorts", "Even came with this cool hammer." He smiled, the crinkles around his eyes, along with Tommy's curly hair and stubble had Buck losing blood flow to his head.

"You don't think it's...I don't know? Revealing?" He gulped, touching his boyfriends pecs and running his fingers down Tommy's chest hair. He stumbled over his words as he saw Tommy looking at him in a affronted manner. "I-I just mean uh that it might be a lot for a Halloween party?"

Tommy shook his head good naturally in disagreement, "We're going to an adults only Halloween party, trust me I'm sure this is probably the least revealing outfit we'll see there tonight. Especially if dispatch is invited, they really like to break loose after hours." Tommy waggled his eyebrows playfully.

"It's just that..." Buck's fingers skimmed the top of the shorts, "You look like you're legit wearing underwear, really hot underwear." the fuzzy part of his brain wondered if Tommy had on a cup, he had to be based on how tight the damn shorts were. Buck felt himself lick his lips as pulled on the shorts, earning a slap on his hand from Tommy.

"Hey!" Tommy pushed him back playfully, "Hands off the merchandise."

Buck didn't let the push deter him from grabbing Tommy by the hips and pulling him closer, "My merchandise." he growled, huffing out a groan as he started kissing Tommy's neck, biting hard at the skin under Tommy's ear.

"This is really doing it for you?" Tommy asked shivering as Buck's hands started to pull at the laces on his shorts. "Baby, it's a essentially a knock off of on a Thor costume."

Buck didn't bother even looking up as he started to kiss down Tommy's neck to his chest, "You just came in here wearing underwear and a harness, its going to do something to me, Tommy." he peered up at Tommy, watching how the older man looked both surprised and turned on as Buck press open mouth kisses over his chest.

Buck felt himself preen as Tommy started to pant, "Okay, so maybe the costume stays home." he decided as Buck dragged him towards the bedroom.

"It's definitely going to stay on, especially that cape." Buck promised.

This wasn't revenge.

Well, not exactly.

But Buck had a plan up his sleeve, it just took a few days to execute said plan.

Despite him and Tommy deciding to opt for a costume couple (they compromised and settled on going as Deadpool and Wolverine since they couldn't settle on which Star Wars franchise to pick from), Buck had his on costume he wanted to wear for Tommy.

Granted it wasn't anything outlandish, but Buck knew Tommy had one major weakness.

Romantic period piece movies and shows.

(Buck could freaking memorize Mr. Darcy's line from Pride and Prejudice by now)

Which was why Buck didn't bother to shave for a while, bought tan high waisted linen pants and those billow-ly white "pirate" shirt that would show off his chest. Separately they looked ridiculous, together along with Buck's curly hair and opting to go bare foot, he looked like he walked off the set of a Bridgeton episode.

Which was the goal.

Tommy was working on Buck's jeep when Buck sneaked into the garage.

"You almost done?" he asked Tommy airily.

"Yeah," Tommy stood up and turned around, "Just abou-oumph."

Buck mentally gave himself a high five as he watched Tommy open and close his mouth multiple times, his blue eyes wide. The way he could see Tommy's chest rise up and down was the added cherry on top.

"Cat got your tongue?" He asked playfully, watching as Tommy dropped the towel he was using to wipe his hands.

"You look..." Tommy dry swallowed, rushing to get his hands all over Buck. "Hot." he wheezed out. "God, you look- Evan, all you need is the accent and I would get down on my knees immediately." Tommy swore, his fingers dipping under Buck's shirt and brushing Buck's stomach.

Buck used his two fingers to lift Tommy's chin up and in his best British accent (A really good one if you asked Buck) told Tommy, "I take it the gentle sir thinks highly of my attire then, hmm?"

Watching Tommy's eyes dilate and his intake of breath was all Buck needed to know he won.

He already knew where they were going when Tommy started to pull him into the house but he asked anyway- showing off his accent still, "Where are we going?"

"The garage floor is killer on the knees and I have plans for us now!"

#bucktommy #tevan #buck x tommy

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alientee · 1 year ago

Text

This is rated 18+ just in case minors don’t interact Maugaxreader

🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋🌋

I’ve had Mauga brain rot since he came out and there not enough fan fiction for me so I’m weighting this because it’s a funny thought I had in my mind I may even make it into a series. Reader is AFAB. Mauga x reader, some fluff, just a lil smut (barley) maybe more in the future enjoy!!!!!

You were relatively new to overwatch, but you were strong. The team knew you had their back, and that’s all that mattered; it also helped you have omnikinesis. But you couldn’t control it that well; you were unstable.

That’s why you reached out to overwatch, to control yourself before you hurt the others around you again. It’s a good thing they found out about you before talon or who knows what could have happened?

Speaking of Talon, you are having a team fight against them now. They tried to destroy another omnic and human peace event. Some of the richest humans and omnics were attending.

So you, Ana, Mei, Winston, and Lifeweaver were on guard duty. And lo and behold, here comes Sigma, Sombra, Reaper, Moria and some other big guy you didn’t know to ruin the party. Everyone began to run around in the grand dining room.

Sombra was hacking communications, so you couldn’t check on your backup. Mei and Ana were dealing with Reaper, and Moria, Winston, and Lifeweaver were dealing with Sombra and Sigma. That left you with the hulking, raging giant with tribal tattoos.

You quickly dodge his machine guns, using everything around you in the room as a shield. You quickly hide, trying to regain yourself; if you lose focus, you lose control.

“HEY HEY HEY WHERE DID YOU GO?!”

You hear smashing and bullets flying, trying to think of a plan in your head.

“EITHER YA COME OUT OR I START SETTING SHIT ON FIRE YOUR CHOICE HAHAHA!”

“Ok your completely insane” You whispered

You snuck around the hulking hot head. You hype yourself up to do a sneak attack that hopefully won’t take down the whole building. You focus on all the skylights and chandlers, bringing them down on top of the hulking man before jumping on his back, ready to detain him.

Until you were encased in darkness.

You find yourself squished by the man who was trying to kill you just moments ago. You were lying on his chest and straddling his waist while he was scrunched up and bent forward. You look up at him, seeing the snarl on his face.

“Ummmmmm hi there” , his eyes narrowed at you.

“What the fuck did you do!”.

You look at him startled and confused. “What do you mean I thought this was you?”

He looks like he’s about to yell at you again untill you both hear somthing.

“(Y/N)! Can you hear me!” It was Ana “YES!”

“Sigma got you two stuck in there!”

The large man shouted right in my ear while his chest rumbled underneath me. “HE DID WHAT!”

“Ah Mauga my friend would you like to hear about my new project. I was trying to trap the other one but you’ll make a great tester as well!” you could hear the collective sighs outside.

“It’s a black cube! One could say it’s a miniature black hole, but not a black hole at all, just a void in cuboid shape. It’s supposed to hold matter and keep it stabilized in place. It’s purpose is to hold things until it fully disappears on its own. Can you hear the melody within the universe? ”

You could feel the man named Mauga stiffen beneath you, you stiffen as well.

“Does that mean we dissapear to!” You scream

“Hmm possibly or maybe it will disappear without you in it the possibilities are endless.”

Your about to speak again when you hear Mauga grunt, you look up seeing him move his head down, that’s when you realize it’s shrinking now.

“It’s shrinking now!”

“Don’t worry (Y/N) given the circumstances we will work together until your both out”

“Don’t die in there Mauga I still have use for you” You shiver hearing Moria speak in such a way it’s gross.

You look up and see Mauga looking annoyed and uncomfortable “I’m sorry”

“Why you didn’t do nothing”

“It’s just that, if it shrinks without disappearing you’ll die. I could probably protect myself if I think of a way but I don’t know how it would affect you I can’t fully control my powers.” All he does is hum in response.

“(Y/N)! Can you use your powers to force the cube open!” Now that’s and idea but before you could even think about it Sigma speaks again.

“If you try to force a black hole to seperate it may disrupt everything around it destroying us all”

but sigma speaks again “But if she uses her powers and makes a black whole within a black hole?”

“Then Mauga dies, it would be such a waist but it may be an easier option” Moria spoke again, you could see Mauga rolling his eyes “Fuck you”

You look back up at Mauga you can still see the cube slightly shrinking again. “Mauga who are you?” He looks at me confused not saying a word. You sigh and speak again.

“If I’m going watch someone die in a cube I at least want to know them.”

You can’t help but stare into his eyes; he looks very handsome. Just something about him being a giant hunk of muscle with a sharp tooth smirk had you enticed.

He looks at you and puts a smirk on telling you the basics: he fought a war, he got two hearts, he lives his life as he pleases, and the rest is history.

You learned he liked video games, he takes pride in being strong and actually works out, letting you know he’s not an experiment with Moria, he’s a hot head but he’s passionate, and you even learned you both own a pair of shark slides.

The cube really did seem to be some type of black hole because you lost track of time and talked for what seemed like hours.

“Since you wanna know me so bad you mind doing me a favor” you nod looking at him

“If I die in here do something for me” You stiffen and look away sadly; you didn’t want to think about him dying in here, especially being responsible for someone’s last wishes.

You may be able to save yourself with your powers, but not at the expense of Mauga's life. You could only hope you would get out before then.

“I need you to tell Bap that I was mad at him for trying to blow me up and for leaving me behind. I was willing to drag his ass back; I missed him. Tell him the next time he grows a conscience, don’t skip out on your friends.” You looked at him confused, but nonetheless agreed.

“Ummm ok I’m not even going to get into that, is that all” He looks away and ponders “Make sure my turtle plush and guns are buried with me to and make my funeral a celebration of me not some sad ass drag of a day”

“Considering we’re technically supposed to be enemy’s I don’t think I’ll be able to plan that who knows what they’d do to your body, but I’ll try my best”

“That’s all I ask”

We stare into each others eyes what seems like forever. Until he leans down more moving his forhead to mine “One more thing?”

You look into his eyes shyly looking away when his gaze got to intense. He looks at me giving me a wink and that damned smirk of his. “What is it?”

“I always said if I died, I’d be on my terms. I wanted go out happy with a gun in each hand and a smile on my face. But right now I think the only thing that could make me happy is if I was taken care of by a beautiful lady?”

You blush looking at him with wide eyes “Are you asking me to have sex with you!?”

“Can’t really do that in this position doll” He’s laughing his ass off, you want to wipe that smirk off his face.

“Then what do you mean?”

He looks down your breast and you blush getting and idea of what he wanted. “If you could let me lay my face in those big tits of yours that’s a way to go” he smirks.

You feel your blush go from your face to your neck. “We don’t even know if your going to die Mauga, they could be done getting us out any minute.”

You listen outside to see if I can hear anything.

“We are not destroying the cube Moria!”

“Why not Mauga can be replaced and that girl can cause the destruction of our universe she’s a liability and a threat”

You could only mumble under your breath. “Your ugly face is a liability and a threat to everyone’s day and stomach”

You hear Mauga chuckle. “Don’t worry I’ll make sure to fuck up all her lab shit if I get out of this”.

You noticed his words if. And you couldn’t deal with that. If he died you’d have been to useless to stop it and in that moment you didn’t want to think about him dying.

You can see the cube shrinking more but Mauga doesn’t make a sound of discomfort, it’s like he doesn’t want to bother you every time the cube gets smaller.

“Hey Mauga”

“What’s up?”

You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and push his face down into your breast. You don’t know what possessed you, but the thought of giving him his last wishes made you confident in your decision.

Mauga snuggles his head in your chest. You hold him there pushing his head down , not wanting him to see your blushing face making this even more awkward.

As if he can sense your distress Mauga motor boats your chest making you laugh. “Hahaha what the heck Mauga!”

“Just enjoying my new home. I love it here.”

He pushes his face deeper in your breast, inhaling your sent. “Hmmmm I really love it here” You feel him lick your chest.

“Mauga! W-what are you doing”

You pull back to find him looking at you with lust in his eyes and a shit eating smirk.

“You looked nervous I wanted to break the ice. I want you to enjoy this too. Can I?”

You don’t know if it was the way he looked at you, or because this was the first time you’ve felt a man’s touch like this, or maybe it was the fact that you wanted to help him; either way you nodded your head giving him the green light.

He puts his forehead against yours once more. “I need words sweetie, tell me what you want”

You look down refusing to make eye contact “I want you to touch me Mauga”

He slowly moves in and kisses your lips, his lips are surprisingly soft he pulls back biting your bottom lip. He moves his face down back to your breast, kissing and biting them slightly, leaving read marks on your skin. You use the front of your hands to pull down the top of your dress, thanking yourself the dress you had on didn’t require you to wear a bra.

He looks up at you as he slowly licks around your breast, taking a nipple in his mouth. His hands cant reach your chest so he settles on placing them on your ass.

Your eyes roll back in pleasure as he suckles on your nipple, his tongue flicking against it softly. He gropes your ass, squeezing your cheeks roughly. You can’t help but moan softly in his ear.

He releases your nipple with a loud pop giving the same attention to the other while nibbling it.

You can feel something slightly poke at you. You realized Mauga got hard. He felt so big even behind his pants. You slightly raised yourself to sit on top of his dick and begin to grind on his erection.

Hoping to give him and yourself some relief, your panties were soaking wet from the attention. You didn’t want to think about the wet spot you were about to leave on his pants.

“Fuck~, you feel so good sweetheart.”

You were about to respond but the cube starts to shake rapidly. You quickly pull your dress up and hold on to Mauga. All you can think about is his safety wanting to put both of you in a shield that could protect you no matter what.

And it seemed like your powers agreed. Because the next thing you know, you and Mauga are in a giant bubble floating above everyone.

He’s looking at you with wide eyes his frown turning into a giant smirk. “I made you feel so good you broke the cube huh”

Your embarrassment must have faulted your concentration, because you two instantly fell from the sky. You land on top of him in front of everyone making it even more awkward.

Everyone looked down at you two before you quickly got up and walked towards your team while covering yourself, just incase you didn’t put your dress on quite right. Reaper spoke up

“Next time you all die”

Ana spoke before anyone else “Oh shut up Gabriel I’m sick of the death jokes”

As they begin to leave Mauga turns towards you giving you a wink.

“It was fun sweetheart”. And he walks away with the rest of talons members.

Mei spoke up while everyone else looked at me “Did he hurt you (y/n)?”

“No he didn’t, he’s just messing with me”

They all nodded and we all begin to retreat back to headquarters. You could only guess sombra hacked everything before you even tried to get back up because no one showed. You started to wonder if you’d ever see Mauga again.

That thought alone made you blush. Lifeweaver tapped your shoulder. He gave you a smirk showing you he was laughing at you. You look at him confused wondering what was so funny.

“What is it?”

He leaned down and whispered in your ear.

“I hope he wasn’t to rough with you”

You looked at him in horror and confusion how could he even know! You looked down to your chest seeing dark red marks all over your breast.

Dammit Mauga!

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch mauga #mauga #mauga x reader #mauga overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch x you #overwatch smut #maugaloa malosi

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venomwrites · 14 days ago

Note

I’d love to see a Caitvi fic that explores Vi’s trauma. Maybe her time in stillwater or the events of s2

Warnings: Season 2, Act 2 spoilers. Takes place pre-act 3. Mentions Stillwater trauma, panic attacks and injuries.

“I thought you might be here.”

The rasp of Caitlyn’s voice makes her insides twist, even though Vi clings desperately to the idea that it’s the least of what Caitlyn deserves. The Kiramman banners are hanging all around them like some sick joke. Vi knows she’s ripped these ones in particular down several times. She wants to do it again.

She can’t stand seeing the Kiramman Crest dangling near Vander’s face.

“Someone kept tearing down the banners here and setting them on fire,” Caitlyn continues.

“Couldn’t take the hint then, can’t take it now,” Vi says, clinging to the dull ache of her anger to turn around. Caitlyn’s wrapped herself in a blanket to hide her face, “you forget your dictator cloak?”

Caitlyn immediately looks offended which is borderline funny, considering she looks more like a drowned rat than a dictator or even an Enforcer. She looks like a dumb Topsider. Like everything Vi wanted her to be these past months. Something in Vi curls in shame at the thought but she beats it back. This is how it is.

“We need to get inside,” she says.

“I’m good, thanks,” Vi retorts, turning back to the statute.

She’d heard rumors of it when she was in Stillwater. People protected it, it was where you went after a long night so your friends could scrape you off the sidewalk. It was safe. If you found Vander, you were safe. The thought makes her throat burn as she tries to shove out the sound of that roar.

She doesn’t even hear Caitlyn coming until her hand lands on her shoulder.

When she twists to strike back Caitlyn’s other hand is there, easily blocking her. Anger ignites at the insulting ease of it. She doesn’t even fully think before she cracks her head into Caitlyn’s arrogant cheek. Whoever’s trained Caitlyn is good because she doesn’t reel back, she turns and twists and Vi has to sink to keep her feet on the ground. Her chest aches as it tears but she doesn’t give a shit. She’s had worse.

“Hey!” There’s a loud clap of a voice that makes them both freeze, “no fighting at Vander’s Statute!”

Caitlyn’s touch burns worse than her chest. Vi rips herself free and staggers back. The big hulking guy looks at her and his face contorts in confusion before it settles on a glare Vi would love to knock off. He folds his arms and waits to see what she’s going to do.

“Yeah we’re done,” Vi snarls.

“The rules—“

“I know the fucking rules! Fuck off!”

“Melting bitch.”

Vi starts after him. Forget Caitlyn, forget the statute, it’s going to feel great to beat him until her knuckles split. And then beat the bag at home. Until she’s too exhausted to think straight and the ghosts can’t find her. It’ll be so fucking great.

“Vi,” Caitlyn’s face swims in front of her like it always does when she’s about to make a good decision.

“Move, fucking buzzkill,” she says, waiting for it to turn into someone else.

Except Caitlyn doesn’t, she just clucks her tongue in a way that only actual Caitlyn manages to do. Vi realizes the guy is gone. It’s just her, Caitlyn and the stupid statute. There’s no fighting here but she can’t quite stop herself from jumping up, grabbing one of those stupid banners and yanking it down so it falls on top of Caitlyn’s stupid head.

“That’s a great use of your time,” Caitlyn scolds, yanking the banner down, “you’re bleeding again.”

“Like I give a shit,” Vi snaps.

“Well, I do,” Caitlyn says like it’s somehow easy to say that. Like that undoes the past months and all the shit that came before that.

“Well sucks to be you,” Vi snarls, “I’ve been down here for months. Wasn’t a problem for you then. So go back to the safe house or wherever you’re going and fuck off.”

Caitlyn doesn’t retort and Vi wishes she would. Vi knows how to fight. She’s good at fighting—at all of it. Including getting her ass kicked. She doesn’t want to be standing out here in the rain with Caitlyn and hear her sorry attempt at amends. She keeps staring at Vander’s statute and thinks abut his letter to Silco. About how things could have been so much different.

Caitlyn is still there when she turns around.

“Where’s the stupid safe house?”

She hates asking but her head is starting to swim. Caitlyn gives her a look and then turns. Thankfully not saying anything as she leads them down several alleyways. If it had been months ago Vi would have been mildly impressed. Now it just pisses her off. Caitlyn gets them indoors and discards her cloak as Vi tries to get her head to catch up with her feet.

“You’re burning up,” Caitlyn mutters.

“I’m fine,” Vi says, wishing her voice didn’t sound so breathless, “it’s just a cold—“ Caitlyn slaps her hand on the back of her forehead and fuck that feels good, “m’fine.”

Maybe if she’s agreeable Caitlyn will keep her perfect hand there. Just for a moment. But life’s not fair so it goes away leaving Vi reeling. A different hand presses against her chest and the ocean threatens to swallow her again. They’re going to hold her down, hold her against the chair—

“Vi,” Caitlyn’s face swims into view as the hand shifts to grip her shoulder, “we’re going to go to bed.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she says.

Caitlyn rolls her eyes and Vi stays conscious just long enough to see the concern in them.

Next thing she knows, she wakes to the soft sound of sobbing.

Vi pries an eye open to see Caitlyn sitting in the chair, face buried in her hands and shoulders shaking. She’s weeping in a way that feels like someone’s reached into Vi’s insides and knotted them. She tries to tell her to stop but her sandpaper mouth won’t let her form words. Just a thready sound that makes everything hurt worse.

“Vi?”

Well it’s fucking effective at least.

Caitlyn ineffectively wipes her face and then one hand is under her neck and another is tipping water down her throat. She gently lays he head back and it makes that funny thing happen to Vi’s insides again. Caitlyn peers at her anxiously, which would be adorable if it wasn’t so fucking weird. Vi’s used to curling up in a dark hole when she’s sick, not having someone tipping water down her throat.

The next time she opens her eyes she’s much clearer in the head. Caitlyn is by the table laying out things and jumps up when she sees Vi is awake.

“That for me?”

“Yes, for your chest.”

Vi can’t stand the idea of laying down and makes her way over to where Caitlyn is standing.

Catilyn opens the bottle of antiseptic and it smells like safety.

Caitlyn glances up at her and then immediately goes back to her chest. It stings like that shit always does but that’s a small price to pay. She barely hears Caitlyn mutter a swear with her still raspy throat, but it’s enough to make her glance down to see her eyes are full of tears. Again.

“It’s not that bad,” Vi says, wishing she would stop, “this is nothing.”

Caitlyn drops the antiseptic like she’s been struck and gets up.

“This is weird, even for you,” Vi says slowly, “Cupcake?” She tries.

“I had to wave that bottle under your nose to get you to calm down,” Caitlyn says, “and I realized—“ she looks like she might be sick, “the infirmary was the only place that was safe for you.”

Vi’s mouth goes dry at the accusation and the truth. Caitlyn’s a crack shot and makes stupid choices and Vi’s been reminding herself how much she fucking sucks for the past few months. But Caitlyn figured out so much without even setting foot down here. She’s smart. In the same way Powder is, though Vi knows she’d get slapped by both of them for even thinking it. Smart in a way that Vi has never fully been able to comprehend. Though she’s got no problem comprehending how much she hates the look on Caitlyn’s face.

“It’s in the past,” she says.

“Don’t—“

“Don’t what?” she demands, “talk about this with you? What do we have to say? You’re the one in charge here, you’ve got everything from Stillwater,” Caitlyn turns away. It’s a cold, awful feeling that Caitlyn probably now knows more about her time in Stillwater than even Vi does, “there’s nothing to talk about,” and because Caitlyn opens her mouth Vi throws in, “nothing to talk about with you.”

It’s not like it’s the first time she’s patched herself up. Sure as hell won’t be the last. But it’s easier to focus on this than Caitlyn’s beautiful, stupid face. It’s just the first wrap that’s the hardest. And the weird trouble she’s having focusing isn’t making it any easier. When hands touch the bandages she has to remember the smell of antiseptic to remind herself she’s safe.

“Hold still,” Caitlyn says, “this will be faster if I do it.”

Vi wishes she wasn’t right. But she stands still as Caitlyn winds the bandages around her chest. She tries not to touch her but it’s bandages and skin. Every time her nails brush her, Vi feels pinpricks. Like getting tattooed all over again. She can’t even imagine what the state of her tattoo is. She starts when Caitlyn brings the bandages over her shoulder.

“What are you—“

“They won’t stay otherwise,” she says and Vi wishes she didn’t have a point.

Even though she’s angry, it doesn’t feel bad to have Caitlyn behind her wrapping her up. It feels so not-bad that she almost starts talking when she feels her pull away. It’s for the best, the farther Caitlyn is away the less it’ll hurt when this inevitably happens again.

“Here,” Caitlyn appears in front of her with a handful of cloth.

“What’s this?”

“A shirt.”

“I’m good,” Vi says.

Even red eyed and snot nosed, Caitlyn manages to look prim and offended at her refusal.

“You cannot walk around wearing bandages for a shirt.”

“No,” Vi says, clinging to the spark of anger Caitlyn is so fucking good at igniting in her chest “you can’t tell me what to do.”

“You’re being ridiculous. You cannot shoot down everything I say because I am the one saying it,” Caitlyn says hotly and Vi wishes she would shut off that brilliant brain of hers for five seconds and let her have the win, “just wear the stupid shirt!”

“Make me!”

“You sound like a child!” Caitlyn erupts and there’s something viciously triumphant about managing to piss her off finally.

“Well you killed enough of them to know!”

“And who helped me?!”

The next thing Vi knows they’re both on the ground. She’s straddling Caitlyn with her stupid precious shirt balled in one fist and the other is buried into the wood next to Caitlyn’s eye. Of course there’s already drops of blood on Caitlyn’s cheek but Vi knows it’s her own. She can barely feel the burning of her chest wound anymore through the fire in her veins.

“Do it!” Caitlyn barks.

Gods Vi wants to. Caitlyn wants her to. She deserves it, she fucking does. But that thing in Vi’s chest that sounds like Vander and his regrets is screaming. And she just—she fucking can’t. Angry horror paints Caitlyn’s face when she drops her shirt and suddenly Vi finds herself on her back, Caitlyn on top of her panting. She looks down at her limp hands and a strangled, frustrated noice that Vi’s never heard comes out.

“Come on damn you! Do it!”

Caitlyn’s desperation is more cutting than anything Vi could have imagined. In her mind, Caitlyn is always laughing and towering over her. Always just out of reach of any punch she might throw. And every fucking time she throws one and her fist hits air or someone else, she feels something sickeningly close to relief. No, relief is the word for it, it’s what she feels with her fist aching from the wood instead of Caitlyn’s soft skin. Caitlyn makes a wordless, wounded noise of disappointment and goes to shove off her.

And Vi doesn’t let her.

For a moment Caitlyn looks hopeful Vi’s going to hit her but then she realizes she’s just not going to let her go. Yeah Caitlyn’s got her fancy Noxian training but she has yet to learn the thing that saved Vi’s life more times than she’s proud to admit. Dead weight. Her ear rings when Caitlyn yells again and she has just enough in her to clap her hand over her mouth.

“You’re going to get us both killed,” she mutters and that at least kind of shuts Caitlyn up.

“Get off me,” Caitlyn spits.

“Not until you calm down,” Vi snaps. Caitlyn bucks and tries to shift her off but it’s useless. Finally she stops struggling and just lays there panting, “there, was that so hard?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Caitlyn spits, pushing herself up.

“I’m not the one who was just begging to get punched,” Vi counters.

“How am I supposed to make this right if you won’t even punch me?” Caitlyn demands.

“You’re asking me?” Vi demands incredulously. Caitlyn rolls her eyes and it might be the first funny thing Vi’s heard in a long time. She doesn’t fully mean to laugh but she can’t quite help herself at the idea of Caitlyn asking her for advice on making things right, “you might as well ask me for dinner party advice.”

That gets at least a slight smile out of Caitlyn and for some reason, that makes her laugh harder. Vi knows it’s not that funny but it actually is. Tear-inducing funny, actually, if the wetness from her eyes is any indication. And the way she can’t quite catch her breath.

“I mean, I couldn’t even make things right with Powder and that was like the one thing that kept me going,” she says, “Powder found me. After all that—can you believe it? Isn’t that just the funniest fucking—“

Actually it’s so funny she might be sick.

She thought she was off the ocean.

“Vi,” Caitlyn’s voice swims to her from somewhere far away. Her fingertips are more calloused now as they brush under her cheekbones. It’s a lifeline, though it’s probably going to cut her hands open. But she grabs it, feeling air back in her lungs as long as she follows the breathing she can feel, “that’s it, come on, another one.” The smell of the infirmary hits her nose, she’s safe. Right, she’s safe, “that’s it.”

When she’s aware again Caitlyn is crouched in front of her, one hand on her cheek and the other with the bottle of antiseptic shoved under her nose. Vi jerks back and Caitlyn lets her. Right, they’re in the safe house. And she’s managed to rip open her chest again. The red matches the hair she sees swimming in her gaze.

“What happened to my hair?”

Caitlyn seems to sag with relief but bristles under her accusatory glare.

“Did you—“

“No!” Caitlyn says, “you didn’t dye it properly. It washed out.”

“Shit,” is all she can think to say, “hey I ‘dyed it properly’, the stuff was just crap. Fucking bartering.”

“Why didn’t you wait until you had money to do it properly?”

The anger almost ignites but it’s a dull, angry spark instead of the inferno that’s comforted her. Of course Caitlyn would think she was changing her look because of some reason like that. Probably what everyone thought.

“Everyone was looking for a red headed Enforcer,” she says. Caitlyn stares at her, “did that not occur to you when you left me there?”

“No, God—“ Vi braces for more explanations and excuses. Maybe those will get the anger going and they can get back to rolling around on the floor, “I wasn’t thinking of anything,” Caitlyn looks queasy, “I was out of my mind.”

The anger’s not coming and the weariness is also back. It’s comfortable on the floor though, so she doesn’t try to move. Her fingers turn over the antiseptic bottle. It’s weird to think it’s the first time she’s ever held something that smells so comforting. It blows her mind to think how many bottles they probably went through. And even then wounds were underrated.

“Not anymore.”

Shit, Vi realizes she must have said some of it aloud. She glances over at Caitlyn who is staring down at her hands.

“What—“

“I ordered all prisoners to be treated promptly for everything,” she says and Vi can’t quite believe her ears, “I forbid anyone from using the bottom levels.”

The mention of them makes Vi’s breath catch. She focuses on the bottle, only the bottle and shoves those memories where they belong. She can usually keep herself out of the cell but she’s bad at keeping herself out of the hallway. And the jeering voices as she was dragged there over and over again. The idea of that corridor being silent is unfathomable.

“You shut it down?” She says, not believing her ears, “why?”

“No-one belonged down there,” she says. Vi still finds it hard to wrap her head around what she’s saying, “Except Dr. Reveck.”

The name makes Vi want to vomit. She doesn’t want to think about him or what he did to Vander. How Vander got from Vander to that—that thing. Because if she thinks about it, then she starts to feel like she’s going to cry. And she can’t fucking do that right now.

“Good,” she says, scrubbing her face. She looks down at her chest, “can you—“

“Yes, yes of course.”

Caitlyn looks almost relieved at having something to do. Vi feels so spent, she knows she shouldn’t but she lets herself focus only on where Caitlyn’s hands brush her skin. Caitlyn’s too focused on what she’s doing anyway to notice. It feels—almost nice. Maybe she can just have this moment. Before she’s sure everything’s going to go to shit again.

“Pass me the shirt,” she says finally.

Caitlyn lets out a shaky breath and hands her the fabric. It was definitely cleaner however long ago that was, but it works. Of course it’s expensive, soft and feels nice against the skin. Vi wants to rally against it but it feels nice. And Caitlyn looks so fucking sad. So she just gives her a nod of thanks.

“Let me see your throat.”

Caitlyn’s head whips towards her. Vi rolls her eyes at the surprise on her face and motions when she opens her mouth. Caitlyn looks around as though struggling with the decision but ultimately relents. She walks over slowly and sits in font of her, reaching up and undoing the cravat band with a wince she thinks she hides.

The bruises are spectacular, even by Vi’s standards.

“Robo fingers did a number on you,” she says. Caitlyn shrugs as Vi gets up and over to the icebox. There’s little in there but there’s enough for her to toss some into a spare towel. She can see the objection on Caitlyn’s face.

“I’m—“

“It’ll make this all better,” she challenges.

Caitlyn goes red but takes the ice. Vi goes to the cabinets.

“You’re going to use that a lot, aren’t you?” Caitlyn asks quietly.

“Only when you’re being stupid,” Vi says.

“I am—“

“I said being, not that you are,” she replies, “that’s what makes it so frustrating. Here.”

Caitlyn stares at the spoon of honey. Vi gives it a wiggle and Caitlyn huffs but takes it, putting the syrup into her mouth. Vi knows shit about taking care of people, but something feels not awful about Caitlyn sitting there with the spoon hanging out of her lips and the ice pack pressed to her neck.

Despite everything she doesn’t want to see Caitlyn hurt.

It’s an odd comfort but the truth of it seeps into her bones. Like a pulse. Like the thing Vander always used to say. Protect the family. Protect. For so long the only things Vi had to protect were herself and the hope that Powder was out there somewhere. Everything has gone upside down and then somehow back to that again and now to whatever this is.

“The antiseptic thing was smart,” she says. She hears Caitlyn suck in a breath, “I don’t want to fight right now,” she looks around, “I’m—I’m going to Vander’s statue again.”

The air feels nice as she climbs up. It’s not raining anymore, just overcast. It’s almost nice. Vi hesitates for a moment and then realizes she’s waiting to hear if the door is going to open behind her. It’s so stupid. She shoves her hands into her pockets and glances around for landmarks before heading back out. Waiting was so stupid.

Though not nearly as stupid as the relief she feels when she hears Caitlyn’s stumbling feet.

“You still navigate this place like a Topsider.”

“Shut up. It’s the blanket.”

Vi can’t help the snort at the threadbare blanket Caitlyn’s using as a cloak. There’s a twitch of Caitlyn’s lips in response before she shakes her head and tightens the knot. It’d be safer for her to be back in the safe house. Or for Vi to be there with her.

But they press on anyway and somehow, Vi thinks, the road ahead seems less daunting then it did a moment ago.

The statute is harder to see in the daylight. But Vi forces herself to look. It’s hard to think that Vander is laying twisted somewhere far away. It makes this statute feel wrong somehow. And also right. Vi doesn’t understand if this is how she is supposed to remember him or should it be the beast below who recognized her. Who turned into that snarling, lava thing that roared and screamed and makes her head spin to think about it.

The ripping sounds draws her attention.

There would be something funny about this situation if it wasn’t so weird. Caitlyn doesn’t need to jump nearly as high to get the banner and rip it down. Vi watches as she yanks it down and balls it up. Now it looks like Vander is just tilting his head up, not looking at Caitlyn’s banner.

“Thanks,” Vi says. Caitlyn nods, “they’re not as bad—“

“They’re horrible,” Caitlyn says, “I didn’t want them,” she elaborate, something mournful in her tone.

“We’ll get them down,” Vi says.

Caitlyn looks at her with surprise and Vi shrugs. Sure it might make more sense to keep lines drawn. But it’s one of the first things she’s said that she doesn’t want to immediately take back. Caitlyn opens her mouth and then closes it, nodding before Vi can prod an answer out of her.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t—“

Vi shuts up when she realizes it wasn’t her Caitlyn was talking to. She has no idea where Caitlyn got a candle from. Vi thinks for a moment that seeing fire near him is going to cripple her, but it doesn’t. It’s not the fire he died in. It’s like the fire he used to light their home. Or his pipe. No-one around here knows what happened except them. She watches as Caitlyn lights the candle and puts it near his feet, stepping back and lowering her head.

Because Caitlyn met him.

The realization brings her to the ground. All the shit that happened and the second Vi said she was there to protect her dad, Caitlyn was on board. When Caitlyn got those bruises she was protecting her dad. They met and somehow that means more to Vi than she can put into words.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“No,” she cuts her off and tries to wipe her face away, “it’s nice. It’s—“ she doesn’t know how to say what she wants, “at least you got to meet him.”

“I’m so glad I did,” Caitlyn says and the sincerity in her voice unlocks something deep and yawning in her chest.

“He wasn’t a monster.”

“I know,” Caitlyn assures her.

“They’re going to find him and think--“ she gasps, “Cait—“

“It’s alright,” Caitlyn’s voice is steady as she touches her face, “we’ll find him first.”

“But—“

“We’ll go back,” she says, “I’ll send out search parties and we’ll find him.”

“It’s too late—“ Vi starts, shaking her head.

Something hardens across Caitlyn’s face and before Vi can stop her she shoves back her hood, sticks her fingers in her lip and lets out the loudest whistle Vi’s ever heard. Immediately two Enforcers are running at them and practically trip over themselves at the sight.

“General Kiramman!” They both immediately salute.

“We need immediate transportation topside,” she says, blocking Vi from them as she tries to scrape together something resembling control.

“Yes, General.”

“And assemble two garrisons for immediate dispatch,” she glances around, “and see these banners are removed from this square.”

There’s more Enforcers coming. Caitlyn can’t hide her forever. Vi looks up at Vander and his hope and the candle Caitlyn’s left. She finds her feet and steps besides Caitlyn. The confused look the Enforces give shouldn’t bug her nearly as much as it does.

“General? What about her?”

“I’m with her,” Vi says.

Caitlyn stares at her for a moment and things seem to go soft and quiet. Again, Vi finds the words easier to say than she expects. They feel right. Even though she’s got snot coming out of her nose and Caitlyn is standing there making a blanket look like a fashion statement. Caitlyn ducks her head and then her eyes narrow.

“What are you all staring at? You have your orders! Let’s move!”

So Vi lifts one foot and, with Caitlyn by her side, she moves.

#caitvi #caitlyn kiramman #vi #cait x vi #arcane spoilers #arcane #vi x cait #prompts

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ruh--roh-raggy · 10 days ago

Text

Roller Rink (Boss! William Afton x Fem! Reader) - FLUFF

Hello hello! I wanted to write something short and sweet to get back into the swing of things, so have a skating date with Will! Let me know what you think!

🪩song recommendation🪩

WARNINGS: Age gap (reader in her mid 20's, Will is in his 40's), not edited, the fluffiest of fluff, Reader and Will skate together at a work party

My Masterlist! ~ Tip Jar! ~ A03 Link!

💜 Thank you for reading! If you like my work consider supporting me by liking/reblogging/leaving a comment below! 💜

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“Chrissy! Hey, hop in!” You call to the bubbly blonde who was already bouncing down the driveway, her skates slung over her shoulder. She piles into your Mercedes Wagon, vaulting over the middle row into the third row of seats that faced towards the back of the windshield.

“I can't believe your bosses rented out the entire Roll-A-Rama! They're so cool for letting you bring us!” One of them exclaims in the packed cab.

“Mr. Afton and Mr. Emily love to throw a good party.” You respond with a laugh. You pulled your sunglasses off the top of your head, shaking out your hair as it blew back in the breeze from the open window. You were on your way to Freddy’s annual summertime bash, your car filled with the excited screams of your friends.

“Are we going to get to see you flirting with your man?” Your copilot teases, nudging your shoulder.

You can't help but scoff and roll your eyes in response, “my man?”

“Girl, come on! You have been in love with this man, forever! How have you not made a move yet?” Someone else chimes in from the back seat.

“Because he's my boss?” You reply through a dumbfounded laugh.

“That just makes him even hotter.” You hear someone argue in response, a collective agreement from the rest of the car.

“You guys are ridiculous.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Just try not to embarrass me too badly.”

“No promises, if he's hot I'm gonna have to say something.”

You pull into the lot, recognizing a lot of your coworkers with their friends and family milling around in the parking lot, which appeared to be getting set up for a BBQ. “Everyone that’s drinking follow me to get wristbands!”

“Well, the party certainly has arrived.” Mr. Emily greets you all with a bright smile. “Ladies, how are we doing today?” He continues chatting casually as he checks all of your ID’s. He chuckles as he hands back the final license he had to check, “Hurricane has two r’s in it sweetheart.” She cringes as he catches her fake. “Are you driving home?” He asks quietly.

“No, sir.” She responds nervously. He wraps the purple wristband around her wrist.

“If anyone asks, you stole it.” She nods, the look of pure shock on her face making you chuckle. “Now, which one of you lovely ladies is driving tonight.” You raise your hand. “Alright, you know the drill. Go give your keys to Will, he's going to hold them to make sure you're good to drive before you leave.” There was a hurried, excited murmur through your group, a couple elbows being exchanged at drawing too much attention.

It wasn't hard to find him, the hulking mass of man lurking by the skate rental counter was a relatively difficult sight to miss. He straightens up when he sees you approaching, you hear one of your friends let out an impressed ‘wow’ as he rises to his full height. “Do us all a favor.” She whispers to you. “Climb that man like a damn tree.”

They all hung back while you went to go talk to him. You willingly surrendered your keys to him before he even had the chance to ask. “Planning on getting into a little bit of trouble tonight, are we?” He asks with a smirk.

“Me? Never.” You pout playfully at him. “I'm hurt that you would even think that, Mr. Afton.” Your heart races as you watch his silvery eyes flicker over your form.

“You're right, a good girl like you would never cause any trouble.” Your cheeks grow warm as you try to come up with a flirty response.

“The only trouble I can see myself getting into tonight is with you.” He raises an eyebrow at you, an almost impressed expression passing over his features.

“Is that right?” He chuckles, taking a couple steps closer to you. “Careful, little lady, you're going to end up with a lot of unwanted attention from me tonight.” He chuckles.

“Who says it's unwanted?” You shoot back, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and letting your eyes wander over his strong, broad shoulders. “I'll see you later, Mr. Afton.”

“Oh, yes you will, rabbit.” He winks at you before you hurry back to your friends.

“You're seriously blind if you can't see how into you he is.” You're immediately pulled into the squealing mass of girls all fawning over how cute you would be with Will. You weren't going to lie, you were really hoping he was planning on following through on his promise to see you later.

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After grabbing some food your group headed back inside, laughing as you all laced up your skates. “Mr. Emily!” You call out to him as you see him strolling past with his wife.

“Hey honey, how are you? Everyone's having fun I hope?” He asks with a cheerful smile.

“Oh yeah, we're having a blast! I was just wondering if, um, if you've seen Mr. Afton?” Your cheeks grew warm as the question tumbled from your lips.

“Will? He's already skating.” He leans down to speak quietly. “Between you and me, I think he's looking for you.” He chuckles.

“Me?” You ask, earning a nod from Mr. Emily. “Why would he be looking for me?”

“I've heard you're quite the skater, young lady, and Will is looking for someone… well, someone who can keep up with him.” He chuckles. One of your friends elbows you slightly, arching her brow at you. You're practically pulled from the bench, getting dragged to the wall to look out over the rink floor. Sure enough, you found Will. He wore a pair of dark purple skates with bright yellow wheels, which easily stood out from his otherwise entirely black ensemble of jeans and a tight fitting T-shirt. He was skating in the middle of the rink, easily gliding around the center as he practiced a few simple warm up moves in time with the music that was playing.

“What are you waiting for? Go talk to him!” You're ushered out onto the floor, nervously cracking your knuckles as you rolled in his direction.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to join me.” He glides over to you, you thought your boss was a big man before, but seeing him wearing roller skates gave him a new, even more monstrous height.

“Mr. Emily was telling me you were looking for a skating partner…” You trail off with a coy smile.

“You think you're up for the task?” He rebuttals with a chuckle.

“With all due respect, Mr. Afton, I may be young but I'd like to think I'm pretty talented.” He offers you his hand with a gentle smile.

“Then why don't you prove it, rabbit.” Your hand slips into his. You both started off slow, just rolling next to each other at the start.

“I didn't think you'd be into something like this.” You remark casually.

“There's a lot of things you don't know about me, little lady.” He chuckles.

“I guess you're right, but there's a lot you don't know about me either.” Will’s hand comes to the small of your back as he carefully steps around you, avoiding your coworker that was sprawled out on the floor after slipping on his skates.

“I know a lot more than you think, rabbit.” You barely caught his response, the feeling of his hand burning against your skin.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenge.

“Well…” he pauses for a second to think. You had found yourself drifting closer to him the longer you skated. Your awkward gliding side by side now turning more into a synchronized strut as you allow yourself to bump into his side. His hand slides across your back, wrapping securely around your waist as he keeps you tucked safely into his side. “I know that you don't like crowds, you prefer colder weather because you always get so, adorably excited whenever you can start wearing sweaters again… and don't think I haven't noticed your little Fizzy-Faz obsession.” He finishes with a laugh.

“What flavor-” You're cut off as he suddenly stops down to bring his face closer to yours.

“Cherry, because it always stains your lips the prettiest shade of pink.” He shoots you a playful smirk, noticing your flustered expression. You perk up when the music changes, Will glances at you curiously.

“I love this song!” You exclaim giddily. One of your friends whips past you, spinning and dancing along to the beat.

“You want to go join your friends?” He asks, you could hear the twinge of disappointment in his voice.

“If it’s all the same to you Mr. Afton… I’d like to stay here with you.” A smile slowly stretches across his features.

“You can call me Will, sweetheart.” He responds with a chuckle. “And I’d love to have a pretty little thing like you on my arm all night.”

“Dance with me, then.” You insist with a coy smile.

“Don't have to tell me twice.” He smiles. He maneuvers himself behind you, his hands coming to rest on the curves of your waist as he allows you to take the lead. He follows you closely through some of your favorite moves, “guess you weren't all talk, were you, baby?” You smile, taking his hand in yours.

“What can I say? I found a pretty good partner.” He chuckles at your response. You squeal as he tightens his grip around your waist, pressing you into his side as he effortlessly lifts you from the ground, spinning with you in his arms. You skated with Will for hours, enjoying some intimate small talk as he wrapped you up in his arms, his scruffy cheek pressed to yours as he leaned down to whisper compliments in your ear, each one leaving you more flustered than the last. He taught you a few more complicated moves he had learned over his skating career, both of you lagging as you fell into him more often than you would care to admit. But, every time Will was there to catch you in a strong embrace. Every so often you would catch sight of your friends, all of them ecstatic that you had managed to snag some alone time with the man that seemed to occupy your every thought. Your cheeks would grow warm as they would blow kisses at the two of you, one even screaming “get it girl!” As you rolled past, Will chuckled at the passing comment.

“It almost seems like they were expecting this to happen.” He says, shooting you a knowing smirk. Your heart pounded in your chest as you glanced up at him. It was the first time tonight you had really stopped to acknowledge how handsome he looked tonight. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you, his steely gray eyes almost seemed to shimmer under the neon roller rink lights. His strong arms stayed wrapped around your waist, muscles tensing under the delicate touch of your fingers. The musky smell of his cologne mixed with the subtle scent of cigarettes and machine oil clouded your thoughts.

“Will, I…” you swallow thickly, your mouth dry as you try to push out the confession you had been hiding for so long.

“Alright, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here!” You both stumble slightly as the lights suddenly flash on, Will catching himself on the wall, pulling you flush against his chest to keep you upright.

“You okay?” The concern in his tone made your chest tighten.

“Yeah, thanks to you.” He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he skates towards the edge of the rink.

“Would you…” he sucks in a deep breath. “Would you like to join me for a coffee or something?” You can't help but smile at his awkward invitation. “Call me selfish, but I'm just not ready to say goodnight to you yet.”

“I would love to. However, I'm the designated driver for whichever of my girls didn't get picked up by one of your horndog chefs.” You explain with a chuckle. He carefully sets you down on the neon star covered carpet, “unfortunately, it would have to be some other time.”

“I could always help you get everyone home.” He offers quietly.

“If you don't mind being in a car full of drunk party girls.” You giggle.

“Spending time with you is worth it.” He slings a heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you head to take off your skates.

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

“You are huge!” Chrissy drunkenly slurs as Will slides into the driver's seat of his car. You attempt to hide your embarrassed expression, dropping your face into your hands with a laugh, Will simply chuckles at the outburst.

“Where am I headed, kiddo?” Will asks, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. She slurs out her address, Will seemingly having caught enough of it to know where he was heading. Chrissy sits forward, bringing her face next to yours in an attempt to whisper something, her lack of volume control at the moment made her attempt less than successful.

“He's seriously your boss?” You nod in response. “He's fucking hot… no wonder you want to–” You quickly clamp your hand over her mouth.

“Chrissy, you're drunk.” You laugh trying to quickly snap her off the subject.

“You're drunk!” She responds when she finally manages to push your palm away from her face. “I'm just saying, if she doesn't let you bring her home, I'm available!”

“Chrissy!” You exclaim in horror. Will snorts out a laugh at her statement.

When you finally drop her off your mind was absolutely reeling, not knowing what Will would have to say to you after listening to your friends drunk ramblings. “She's safely inside, her sister looked terrified of me.” He jokes.

“Well, it's not every day you have an incredibly handsome wall of man dropping off your drunk sister, I guess.” You froze after you registered what you had said. “I am so sorry–”

“So, you think I'm handsome?” You were nervous to look at him at first, not sure how that question was supposed to be interpreted. Your shoulders soften as you meet Will’s gentle gaze. You nod apprehensively, still too nervous to reiterate that fact out loud. “Well, if it's any consolation, rabbit…” He slides closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you into his side. He gently takes your chin between his fingers, not allowing you to look away. “I think you're very, very pretty.” He growls seductively. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips come to rest against yours. Kissing Will was a lot different than how you had imagined it. He was surprisingly gentle with you, as if you were made of glass. His fingers gently kneaded against your plush waist, his other hand leaving your chin in order to cradle your cheek in his palm, his strong fingers lacing their way into your hair. You kissed him until your lungs burned, so caught up in him that you had neglected to breathe.

It takes you a moment to regain yourself. Your eyes hazy, pupils blown, Will’s chest filled with a sense of pride at the sight. “Will?”

“Yes, bunny?”

“Did you still want to grab that coffee?”

His smile widens in response, “of course, pretty girl. Anything if it means getting to spend more time with you.”

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

Tag List: @vile-moss @yellowbunnydreams @spookyghostjelly @zoey5252 @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @residentevilbeast @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology @maria-moll @astinkerofarat (if you would like to be added or removed from tag List please let me know!)

#fnaf #william afton #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #springtrap #steve raglan #william afton x reader #fnaf william afton #william afton fnaf #william afton fluff #x reader #fnaf au #fluff #fnaf fluff #x reader fluff #william afton x reader fluff

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leavingsunsets · 7 months ago

Note

alsgakdgaksh sorry I know you just answered my request but, but, but what about dcst characters reacting to a reader who has a problem with daydreaming (maladaptive daydreaming)

basically they get so lost in their mind that they start acting out or quoting(? their thoughts, from the outside it just kinda looks like they're talking to themselves but they've got a whole movie in their mind 😭 (i legitimately subconsciously tripped myself because i imagined a character falling to the floor)

take care and don't rush <333

whooo this was a doozy. had to do a little research for this one, so i get to give yall some good rep or atleast make it feel a little more accurate tehee. anyways with this population sampling liberty ive decided to get 5 characters, 4 guys and 1 girl. enjoy 😋.

"𝔇𝔞𝔶𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔯?"

[𝖣𝖢𝖲𝖳 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐/ 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖺𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗒𝖽𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗋.]

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙠𝙪 𝙄𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙞

Might be a little confused at first. Like, especially if it's at random times. Maybe he's busy tinkering with something, and you're in the same room. You do or say something and he automatically goes "huh?" because he thinks you're talking to him and you go "huh."

It takes some adjusting for him, but he learns much faster than the others. Though it's kinda funny during the beginning stages because whenever you said something aloud he'd pause whatever he was doing to stare at you blankly, and if you didn't look his way after a few seconds he'd take it as you weren't talking to him and resume his business.

He's a curious bugger tho so he obviously glances over at you sometimes to see what you were doing, whether you were both alone or not.

Seeing as your attention is a little harder to grab, he's got a custom habit of either patting or holding your shoulder. Like "yo [name]," and a little shoulder tap.

But with this development, it seems you've also learned to do the same. Now that he's used to you talking to yourself, to show that you're speaking to him, you have to either tap him or say his name.

Overall, pretty chill about it, even talks to you a lot just to pull you out sometimes.

𝙏𝙖𝙞𝙟𝙪 𝙊𝙠𝙞

Our sweet, underrated, heart of gold who I couldn't find nice aesthetic manga banners for (sorry for the jumpscare). Bet you didn't expect to see him on the list, huh?

Just a little longer in terms of adjusting. Like Senku, is a little confused and goes "?" when you do things randomly. Sometimes, you are interrupted because whenever he is in vicinity he's just bombarding you with questions.

"Hi! What are you doing?" "Were you talking to me?" "What's that mean?" "Were you saying something?" "What is that gesture?"

You either give him a very detailed description about the scenario in your head or just BS it.

"I was communicating with the trees." "Wow! Really? You can do that?" Accepts whatever choice you pick anyway. He will listen intently and he will take it literally. An open chance to tell him whatever you want and he would not suspect you at all. He is very intrigued at this new type of acorns called "Deez" that you found in the forest. Apparently it's part of the "Ligma" family of trees? Wow!

Easily snaps you out of your daydreams because his voice is just loud enough to do so.

You get to enthuse with him sometimes, and he will happily listen.

𝙏𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙖𝙨𝙖 𝙎𝙝𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙤

Also a little underrated, I swear.

Problem with Tsukasa is that he's a little nonverbal so when you do or say something, he just stares at you. Hulk of a man watches in confusion as you play out a whole soap opera or something.

But hey, what is Tsukasa if not a kind and gracious man?

Tries to understand you, and is a good listener if you ever need a guy to ramble to about this. And hey, gives him more insight on your mind in general.

Keeps a slightly closer eye on you, or is just more aware of your predicament in general.

This Tarzan would genuinely be gentle about it like he'd check up on you and stuff. Talk to you, or even sit down with you, maybe a little chitchat.

I imagine you as a duo would be him sipping nice tea and enjoying the garden meanwhile you accidentally drop your cookie in the milk so you borrow his teaspoon just to scoop it out and he lets you. Very weird analogy but he is just kind??

An enigma, overall doesn't change his usual equitable treatment towards you.

𝙆𝙤𝙝𝙖𝙠𝙪

I already had a vision of her reaction to this. Like, as an inquisitive type, she'd most likely ask you questions all about it as soon as she notices it. More answers lead to more questions. Forgive her, she's only curious.

Similar to Tsukasa, she wants to be aware and informed. Wants to know about what you're thinking about sometimes. "Hmmm..." and just watches you from the branches.

Of course, watchful, and vigilant. Observer type. If ever you're too out of it to notice something potentially harmful coming your way (or vice versa), she'd be there to tug you back to reality.

She's most likely less patient than Tsukasa, not the type for a sit down kind of conversation, but would still let you ramble while you both pick apples or smthn.

Overall a nice gal who wouldn't mind it at all.

I feel like she's the complete opposite of a daydreamer, so it's hard for her to understand what it's like. Still, she tries to be considerate and talks with you whenever she can as a way to learn about it.

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fuckyeahizzyhands · 1 year ago

Text

youtube

Con O'Neill interview with Awards Radar's Steven Prusakowski 😭😭😭❤❤❤

SP: Busy time of year, but, you know, starting to slow down in just enough to hang out with the family and do all the cooking for, like 48 hours and then.

Con: Are you the main cook in the house?

SP: I am the main cook.

Con: Yeah. So am I. I love it.

SP: I love it, too.

Con: It's my go to place.

SP: Yeah.

Con: Because when I left school, I trained to be a chef.

SP: Oh, wow.

Con: Briefly. Another story.Okay, let's rock and roll.

SP: Well, that passion never leaves you, I think. I think once you start, especially when someone enjoys and says, hey, I really liked your food.I hear from my daughter's friends or their parents, she loved your pasta or whatever it was, I'm like, okay, now I'm...

Con: It's the best feeling, isn't it?

SP: It is. It's wonderful.

Con: And just that kind of inherent, nurturing thing of just going into the kitchen empty handed and coming out with a meal for people is really rewarding. And I love it. It's intoxicating. I absolutely love it.

SP: Same here.

Con: Because I travel so much, I don't always get a place with a kitchen. And that's why I always try and get an apartment when I'm filming because it just gives me a place to be in my head that isn't about work.

SP: Yeah. Yeah. Well, I can talk cooking forever, but-

Con: But we should.

SP: I know we're short on time and I have a ton of questions and I won't get to all of them. So let's just jump into the series and maybe we could pick it back up. Sorry to interrupt, but I love the series. I love your character and your performance.

Con: Thank you.

SP: It's a stellar, and there's so much to Izzy that we see on the surface, but there's so much more to him beneath. How was this character originally pitched you and what did you initially want to bring to him?

Con: The thing about this character was he wasn't in the pilot. So when I spoke to David about it, there was nothing written. So he explained it in very broad terms. But then I quite like specifics when I'm choosing projects. And kind of... he brought up Salieri from Amadeus, and I really hooked into that. Now, I don't know whether we went that way with it in the end, but it was a really good hook for me because Salieri is that guy with a mission who is on the surface wanting, but is underneath something else. And I think initially, Izzy was that, but then we exploded him in several other ways and Salieri diminished to something else. But it was a good hook for me

initially to get in by thinking about Salieri.

SP: Yeah, I like it. I could see that for sure. And to start the season two. So going into that, he's a shadow of himself from this feared, intense, strong man to a broken man. And what was it like taking this character and exposing that humanity and starting to peel away some of that shield.

Con: I mean... David had spoken to me before we started shooting and explained most of the hulk to me, and I'd always played Izzy as a man who was in love but didn't know he was in love. And for me, the key into this season was a. the design, but more importantly, was the Taika's performance. To see a man that I love to be that broken and to be that vicious because of the heartbreak, it was profound for me to see what he did with Blackbeard, and it did break my heart a little bit. So the emotional journey was quite clear that at the end of the day, all hatred of Stede had left him, and all he wanted to do is fix Blackbeard, and he risks his life to do that. He literally puts himself on the line for that because, like always. And what I loved about what David and the writers did was they didn't remove Izzy from season one in season two, he's still there. And what Izzy does is about the crew. He puts his life on the line because Blackbeard is killing his crew, and he risks it all for that. But it breaks him seeing the the man he loves so fragile and broken and angry, it breaks him. So, It wasn't an easy job. It was quite a lonely job. It was quite a difficult job because it was going down that path that I knew inevitably we were going to go down. But I thought it was beautifully written. So most of what I needed to do was on the page, to be honest-

SP: -I'm sorry-

Con: I just had to throw myself into it.

SP: Excellent. And then with Izzy being broken and literally broken, he loses his leg, which is symbolic of much more. It leads to one of the most touching moments of the series, a note with four words: For The New Unicorn. What did that mean to you, and what does that mean to the character?

Con: You know, I've been talking a lot last couple of days - because I'm allowed to now - and, you know, this season is about Izzy coming out. In many ways, he comes out, but that moment, that rest, that beautiful piece of writing again, the writing, where the crew embrace him, and it just releases him. It releases him from his own concept of who he is. It releases him from his own concept of who he has to

be to be a first mate and a brilliant first mate. It released him of concept that he's alone. None of this would have been possible to Izzy pre season one, none of it. And in many ways, it's Stede that brings this into his life. Because before Stede, Izzy never thought of his relationship with Blackbeard as a loving relationship. He never thought of it as being in love. He only realizes he's in love with Blackbeard when he sees Blackbeard lose Stede. That's the only... The reveal is he's heartbroken because the man he loves is broken, and he doesn't know what to do with any of that. He's not emotionally capable. And the crew giving him the letter and calling him the new unicorn and releasing him from all the stuff that he'd done, all that pain that he'd suffered and anger that he'd raged upon them, it's a really accepting moment. So... yeah, I'm waffling a bit now, but it meant a lot, and it was a very beautiful moment to play. And I thought Andy, who directed it, directed it so...Andy was a real shoulder for me to lean on in those scenes, because a lot of those early scenes I'm shooting on my own. And it's quite difficult to play an emotional narrative when you're on your own, because it tends to just be one tone. And he was wonderful, and Alyssa and Alex and all. They were all wonderful in helping me gauge those moments, as were the rest of the cast. But, yeah, that moment touched me enormously.

SP: You know, you have this love triangle that is never really spoken, but it's there.

Con: Yeah

SP: Then it kind of shifts - it's almost like a love square. It's Ed, Blackbeard, Izzy and Stede. And where the love, you know, crosses, it's all... or the hatred is at sometimes, but then it evolves...

Con: Absolutely.

SP: It's so complex.

Con: I mean we all're in contemporary language. We always associate love with romance. That isn't the case here. The love that Blackbeard and Izzy have for each other is deep, man. It's deep, and it's rooted in years of working together, loving each other, saving each other's lives, being constant. This is probably the only constant they both had in their lives, is Blackbeard is Izzy, Izzy is Blackbeard, and then they have this buffoon come in and steal Blackbeard's heart. It's not that Blackbeard falls in love with someone else. Blackbeard falls in love with this guy. This Izzy just can't comprehend, and it's a constant. And then once, I think once Blackbeard hands him the gun, everything changes. And Blackbeard says, kill yourself. Everything changes. And then there's an openness to Stede and Blackbeard that brings him to that place of acceptance-

SP: -It's great to watch also. I'm sorry. Go ahead.

Con: No, that. I mean, I'll waffle again. I'll waffle a lot, because that's what I do. But the more I think about that relationship, the more I go down all these different avenues of what it could have been, and what it could never have been, and what it is and what it wasn't. And as you say, it's layered and complex, and I'm honored to have been able to get to play with those actors, and especially with Taika, who's a profoundly good actor - everyone talks about Taika's director and writer - the man's a fucking great actor to work opposite, and he's... he's exquisite. So, yeah, I could only go where I went because the writers and Taika. Really.

SP: That's great. I... of course, we have to touch upon the end of the season and the end of Izzy, unfortunately, which I'm hoping is not. I'm hoping David has something up his sleeve. But what was your reaction when you learned it and how emotional was shooting that final scene? Because that final scene says a lot between...

Con: It was a... listen, I've been around a long time. The writing was on the wall when I started to read the scripts, and David had kind of hinted at it anyway when we went out for the famous dinner where he told me what the plan was, and I was gutted because I loved playing him so much. But, yeah, narratively, yeah, it makes sense. And I have complete faith, respect, love, admiration for David Jenkins, and whatever he thinks or wants to happen in season three will be the right thing if he gets season three, which I, whether I'm involved in it or not, I really hope he gets it, because he deserves it. And the show deserves it. The show deserves its triangle. It deserves it. But, yeah, it took a few days to sink in, and then I was fine. I was incredibly tired by that time. And I was lonely, as... really lonely because I was so far away from home filming all these scenes, and I tended to isolate when I was filming because of the nature of the work. So when I wasn't filming, I was sword training, or I was working out, or I was learning to walk on that fucking leg, or I was whatever whatever whatever. So I found myself isolating a lot. And in a way, it was a relief to be released from it. The final scene David had sent to me several weeks earlier. And I prepped, as I always do, and I prepped and I prepped and we were going to shoot at the beginning of the last week, and then it got shifted to the middle of the last week, and then it got shifted to the morning of the last day, and then it was shifted to the last thing we were going to shoot in the entire season. And there's always a dark cloud around those scenes because you never quite know how it's going to play. And there's a lot of pressure. And it being the last thing we were going to shoot, put more pressure on. And we were on the ship, which is a huge set, hundreds of crew members, the cast, everyone who could possibly be there was there. And I was getting quite unsettled by the amount of cacophony of noise and people. And then we rigged it all up, and it was still just [noise]. And then suddenly it was just me and Taika and just saying goodbye to a character we both fell in love with. And it was... it was a, I'm saying 'profound' a lot, but it was a profound experience doing that scene because everything else disappeared. It was just me and him. It was just Izzy and Blackbeard. And it was a lovely lovely moment.

SP: It was painful, but-

Con: It was lovely to be held by-

SP: -beautiful to watch.

Con: Yeah. Thank you. I mean, it's lovely to be held by another actor just... creatively and likewise with me to him. And David had a playlist playing and it was... elegant to do. It was nice to do. It was a nice, fitting ending to that chapter of this character. And I'll always be grateful that they shot it in that way.

SP: I do have to wrap. I just want to say before we do, I really enjoyed your rendition of La Vie En Rose. fantastic.

Con: Thank you.

SP: That's beautiful. And I appreciate all the work you did in the series, and I hope we see you again. And hopefully maybe you'll have a cooking show too, along the way, because I'd love to see what you make in that kitchen.

Con: Come on and let's bake together. Oh, I can't bake. I'll cook. It's lovely l ovely talking to you, Stephen.

SP: Great talking to you as well. Have a great day.

Con: Thank you. Bye bye.

SP: Thank you.

#our flag means death spoilers #our flag means death #ofmd #con o'neill #izzy #izzy hands #con interview #interview #2ep8 #ofmd spoilers #season 3 #video transcript #david jenkins #taika waititi #blackbeard #stede #Youtube

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buryustogether · 1 year ago

Text

lilac - chapter 7

miguel o’hara x f!reader

wc: 5.3k

summary: the truth will always come to light.

warnings/tags: smut, p in v sex, domestic life, mentions of pregnancy (not reader), mentions of murder/bodies, knife violence, angst, choking, kidnapping

author’s note: listened to am i dreaming while writing this and bawled

Two weeks later, you found yourself slipping into one of the private rooms at The Menagerie, feeling the thumping, thrumming music all the way from the floorboards through your feet and into your teeth. Your very heart seemed to shake with the vibrations. Your thin, sparkly cape-like train swayed behind you as you moved quietly into the room, brushing against your thighs as you locked the door.

“Hi, handsome,” you said to the customer sitting in the chair in the center of the room. The neon lights were too bright, too loud, like you were floating in a dream from another planet. “How are you doing tonight?”

Before you were able to turn around, to even get in another breath, the man was up behind you, his chest pressing into your back and his hands trailing down your sides. His breath fanned across your ear, your temple, your neck. You would have told the guy to back off if you didn’t recognize the low, even voice that spoke just inches from the shell of your ear.

“Good to know you greet all your customers the same way,” murmured Miguel from behind the painted porcelain spider mask. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice as his hands slowly slipped up your front, edging along the underside of your breasts. “Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea, thinking they were special.”

Your racing heart slowed its uneven tempo as you were unable to put down the grin set upon your lips. You turned your head ever so slightly so that you were able to see a sliver of his wide, massive frame hulking over yours behind you. Moving upon their own accord, your hands reached up to rest over his where they sat on your stomach. Then you tugged his palms up so that they cupped your breasts through the flimsy fabric of your monarch costume.

“If you wanted me to touch you,” you said, just audible over the beat enveloping you both even here in the private room, “you could have just waited until I got home.”

“Hmm - but where’s the fun in that?”

Finally turning around, you smiled and reached up to nudge the spider mask over Miguel’s face. Those features of his - those beautiful, rugged, wonderful features of his - were bathed in the neon from the lights as you pulled it off his head entirely. His smirk was predatorial, hungry and eager to start the hunt for what he was after. You pushed against his chest, backing him up across the room because suddenly the roles had changed, and when he sat back in the chair to stare up at you, he knew it.

“The fun in that,” you said as you sank down to your knees before him, “is that you get to moan my name as loud as you want at home.”

This was how it had gone for these past two weeks, and that was how it went for the next one, as well. Pure bliss clouded your mind like a fog that refused to go away. Even if you wanted it gone, you couldn’t have gotten rid of it. Your brain was partially blind to the world around you as you went about your life as if you weren’t dating Miguel O’Hara, as if you weren’t housing Spiderman in your shitty little apartment, as if your world hadn’t been uprooted for the absolute better.

It went like this even when you called up the school at the beginning of the third week, reaching out to the front desk ladies who always did crosswords and snapped bubble gum instead of actually doing their jobs.

One of them picked up on the fourth ring. “Washington Elementary, this is Janice at the front desk.”

“Hey, Janice,” you said as you leaned over the countertop of your kitchen. A small cry attempted to escape you, but you were successful in keeping it down. “Listen, I know it’s short notice, but I need to use - hmm! - a couple of my vacation days I have saved up. I-I’m going out of town for the week and I won’t be back… back until next Monday.”

The front desk lady was typing away on that ancient computer of hers with those tacky nails, though you were barely able to hear it over the racing and thundering of your heart in your ears. “Alright,” she drawled in a voice that was way too slow for you. “Did you have a particular substitute in mind?”

You pressed your lips together until they ached as you pressed further up against the counter, practically folded over it at this point. “Nope,” you said, your tone strained and tight. “Any will do. And thanks! See you next week.”

“Wait-”

You clicked your phone off and sent it skidding further down the kitchen countertop, finally able to release the long, strangled cry that you had been holding in the entire call. The long, thick cock buried inside your sopping cunt had been shallowly bucking into you while you talked, and the wide, calloused hand pressing you by your upper back into the counter hadn’t helped, either.

You exhaled a pant and whimpered in pleasure as the man behind you leaned over your smaller form, his warmth pressing up against you. “Good girl,” Miguel murmured against the shell of your ear, then bit it gently with the tips of his fangs. “I told you you could stay quiet for me.”

Days were spent lounging around the apartment, recovering from the throbbing ache the previous day’s (or, oftentimes, that morning’s) sweaty, heated session had left you with between your thighs. You would tidy up your home or run errands, always anticipating the soft sound from your bedroom of the window being rolled up and the near-silent noises of Spiderman crawling in from the fire escape. Afternoons you would spend bent over the nearest surface - the counter, the arm of the couch, the bed, the coffee table. He didn’t care, and neither did you. And the evenings were spent with dinner with your new little family, or out at late night soccer games flooded with light from the torches over the field. No matter where you were, whether it was his leg pressed against yours or his hand slid into your back pocket or just his hand atop yours, Miguel was always touching you.

It felt like a dream. It felt like maybe you’d died and gone to heaven, because, really, life in this smog-ridden, violet-colored sky couldn’t be this good. It shouldn’t have felt this good.

And, of course, because all things must come to a close, an end, a stop - this dream did.

It was late in an afternoon, when the sky outside had just finished painting itself with the dull colors of sunset, that you found yourself folding laundry in the living room and watching the news on your television. Unconsciously, because you had been doing this for nearly three weeks now, you made three stacks of the clean clothes; yours, Gabriella’s, and Miguel’s. His and yours were set aside to go back to the bedroom. Hers would stay out here and be stored in the drawers of your shelves; if the O’Haras were going to be staying with you for much longer - which you really, really hoped they did - you were going to need a bigger apartment. Gabriella needed her own room. And you and Miguel… you needed a bedroom with thicker walls.

You’d decided to wear one of his favorite dresses - a short, pink little number - in anticipation for when he retired from patrolling the city this afternoon. He intended, as he’d told you this morning before you both got out of bed, to come home, fuck you until you saw stars, have dinner, then go back out again for a night watch.

And you had no problem with that.

You’d just reached down to grab a shirt from your basket when there came a knock on your front door. Not gentle, but not unfriendly, either. Standing straight and turning the television down a few levels, you silently padded across the apartment and stood on your tiptoes to raise yourself to look through the peephole. The multiple golden locks glinted to your right.

You’d expected to find a neighbor asking for a favor, or maybe girl scouts selling cookies for their little fundraisers. Hell, even your landlord coming to ask if the new additions to your apartment would be staying permanently, and if so, demanding more rent. But instead, you found three people you had not seen before. They were an odd little trio, one that made you take a second glance after you had scanned them all over once.

The one who had knocked on your door was a woman with dark skin and large, round glasses with tinted lenses sitting on her nose. One of her hands, the wrist decorated with bangles and other bracelets, protectively held the massive bump on her stomach; she looked ready to pop and have her kid any day. On her left was a boy that looked no older than twenty; he, too, was dark-skinned, with dreads that stuck out like a halo and multiple rings affixed to his nose, his brow, his ears… Eyeliner had been applied to his lids, and across his back was a sleek-looking electric guitar. And on the woman’s left was a middle-aged man in a fluffy bathrobe, busy adjusting the baby carrier strapped across his front. The toddler inside giggled and attempted to paw at his fingers.

Your first thought was that they were just a strange-looking family, maybe asking for directions or hoping for some charity. But if that was the case… why had they come up to your floor?

Taking a breath, you unlocked your door and swung it open. The trio looked up - including the red-haired baby - and they all seemed to do a double-take on you, as well. The man’s lips parted in surprise. The teenager quirked an amused smile. And the woman pressed her lips together in a sense that said she saw something she didn’t like.

“Now we know why the bloke’s stayin’ ‘round here,” said the boy in a thick English accent.

Blinking a few times, you nervously folded your hands over your stomach and put on your best smile. “Hi,” you said to the tiny group. “Can I help you at all?”

The woman - who had visibly composed herself - returned your smile and straightened herself out. “Sorry to bother you,” she said in an apologetic way that, if you thought you heard right, sounded more on edge than anything else. “We’re looking for Miguel O’Hara; he’s a friend of ours. Does he live anywhere around here?”

For a brief moment, you flashed back to that day at Alchemax, when you’d overheard Lyla the defective AI talking to Miguel about spending time with friends. Were these the friends she’d been speaking of? Fuck, you suddenly wished you remembered their names. “He lives here, actually,” you said, then stepped aside to welcome them in. “Would you like to come inside? He’s out… running a few errands, but he should be back any time now.”

One by one they filed into your apartment, practically filling the little kitchen your front door opened into. The boy hopped up on your kitchen counter, adjusting his guitar strap across his chest and spreading his legs out to take up space.

You introduced yourself to them, told them your name. “Can I get you anything to drink?” you said, eyeing the strange little trio as they took in your apartment. Suddenly you felt like you were being held under a microscope; they were examining your decor, the pictures on your walls, the half-finished stack of laundry still sitting on the couch. You guessed you’d expected Miguel to have more… plausible friends. Other scientists at Alchemax. Fellow single fathers. Not a stylish pregnant woman with something against you, a manspreading teenager who was leaning back on his hands on your damn counter, and a middle aged man cooing at a toddler strapped to his chest.

“No, we’re fine,” said the woman.

“Actually,” said the man, earning himself a swift glare from his companion, “do you have anything sweet lying around? She just had lunch, and she gets fussy if she doesn’t have the dessert I promised.” He gestured to the red haired little girl sitting in her carry-on seat, staring up at her father with large, wide eyes.

“Peter, stop it,” hissed the woman.

Shaking your head, partially to dismiss the strangeness of the whole situation, you stood up on your tiptoes and began to search through your cupboards for something sweet; you’d been keeping a lot more treats around since Gabriella had moved in. “No, it’s okay,” you said as you handed the box to Peter, who gasped dramatically for the sake of his baby. “I need to get rid of these anyway.”

You stood back against the sink, feeling awkward in your own home as the strangers waited. Clearing your throat and attempting to look busy folding a dish towel, you said, “So… how did you guys meet Miguel? He hasn’t really talked about his friends much… at all, to be honest. I kind of thought he was more of a lone wolf.”

“Hah!” the boy on your counter barked out a laugh. “That he is, love.”

“We work with him,” said the woman. She reached up to adjust her tinted glasses, and it was then that you noticed she wore a silver band around her wrist with some kind of orange interface - a watch of some kind? You peeked at the other two, and realized they wore them, as well.

“Really?” you said, tilting your head and forcing yourself to smile. You glanced at the boy. “No offense, but… I didn’t think Alchemax would hire anyone so young. Are you an intern?”

“They wish,” he replied and crossed his ankle over his other leg. He wore bright teal sneakers, one sporting yellow laces and the other, blue. “Don’t think some stuffy, thieving corporation like that could handle me even if they tried.”

Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes, in the process of breaking up cookies to give the toddler against his front. “Sure, Hobie,” he snickered. “That’s why.”

“He told you he works at Alchemax?” said the woman, who had come closer to you than you realized until she was just feet away. You were able to see her eyes through her shades - almond-cut and heavy-lidded, those brown irises filled with an emotion that you could not place. It intimidated you slightly, and you wanted to look away, but her words brought an unfamiliar sense of unease slowly rolling through you.

“I… yes?” you said, wringing the towel in your hands now. “He does work there. I’ve - I’ve been to his office before. He’s a geneticist.”

“Jessica…” said Peter in a voice that sounded akin to a warning.

Jessica’s lips had pursed into a thin line, one that set a line at the corner of her mouth. You backed further against the sink. “Do us a favor and call him,” she said, but it didn’t sound like a favor, and more of a demand. “We really need to speak to him.”

Swallowing thick and steeling your heart, because no longer did you refuse to be ordered around in your own home, you set down the rag and stood straight again. “I think it would be best if you all left,” you said, looking around at the three. “I’ll tell Miguel you dropped by.”

Then, like they were a pack of animals all sensing something you could not - even the damned baby - they all turned their heads in the direction of your bedroom. Their eyes were focused, all other movements ceased. It was one of the strangest things you had ever seen. Then, finally, you heard it, too - the sound of your window being opened, of a heavy weight vaulting inside and landing on the hardwood floor with a soft thud.

“Perfect timing,” said Jessica, and a film of goosebumps trailed over your skin.

For a long, agonizing few moments, you all stood perfectly still, waiting for Miguel to appear from the bedroom. The only sound was the television still playing the news and the soft cooing of the baby against Peter’s chest as she continued devouring cookies.

Feeling your heart racing in your chest, listening to it thunder and roll in your ears, you took a breath and called, “Mig?”

His reply came from the bedroom just a moment later. “It’s just me.”

“Yeah.” You turned a wary gaze to the strangers standing in your kitchen, wringing your hands, now. “Could - could you come here, please? Now?”

He must have sensed the slight waver in your voice, maybe he smelled your nerves in the air - he seemed to have been fine tuned into your senses now - because at once, the bedroom door opened and his careful, mindful footsteps tread down the hall. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him enter the room still in his suit, his hair mussed from having just deactivated his mask. When he laid eyes on the intruders cornering you in the kitchen, he stopped solidly in his tracks.

“There’s the man of the hour,” said Hobie, then lay back entirely across the counter to grin at your boyfriend upside down. “Fancy catchin’ you here, ain’t it?”

Miguel stared hard at the teenager, his chest rising and caving in an uneven pattern and fists clenched at his sides. “Get down,” he ordered in a low, frightening voice that told you at once - these were not his friends. “Now.”

“Miguel,” said Jessica as she crossed the kitchen to meet him. “We seriously need to talk about this.”

“About what?” he snapped.

She pulled an expression that screamed this was not the first time they had talked about this. One hand resting on her swollen belly, she raised the other to gesture around your apartment. It threw your heart out of tandem. “About this. What are you doing, O’Hara? This - this is insane. I don’t know what kind of screw came loose in that brain of yours, but you’ve completely lost it.”

You had no idea what they were talking about. For a moment, you thought she was speaking about your relationship with Miguel. Then a moment became seconds. What was happening? Who were these people and what business did they have interfering with your lives?

Miguel stared daggers into the woman, but she only returned them with equal heat. He took a breath in through his nose as if he were going to say something, then quickly, with intent, turned his eyes to yours.

Understanding at once, you squeezed past Peter, who was now letting his daughter dig through the bag of cookies, and tread carefully past Miguel. You were practically able to feel the fury radiating off of him in waves. “I’ll give you all some privacy,” you said softly, tiptoeing back into the living room. You took up your previous space beside the couch and resumed folding the laundry, but your mind was still back in the kitchen. What the fuck was going on?

Your eyes were trained on the news, but your ears - and attention - were straining to hear the conversation being whisper-shouted just in the next room.

“You’re out of your damn mind, Miguel!” Jessica said. “Purposely changing canon events? Redirecting this dimension so it wraps around your little fucking finger? What’s going on?”

“This is different,” Miguel hissed, and you knew at that moment that he was distraught, because he was letting his fangs get in the way of his speech. He hardly ever let that happen. “I’m balancing the canon events. This dimension is still stable.”

You recognized Hobie’s voice, thick and heavy with his accent. “Really?” he said, and you heard the electric twang of his guitar being fiddled with. “What’cha call that glitch in Brooklyn, then?”

“Why exactly are you here, Brown?”

“Don’t know. Wanted to see fur fly, I’spose.”

“We’re here to take you back to HQ, Miguel,” said Jessica in that stern, commanding voice that she had used with you. “You’re tearing this reality apart at the seams. You know what happens if you do.”

Trying to listen in further, you took a step toward the kitchen, placing a hand on a shelf beside an empty vase.

“You have no power over me, Drew,” Miguel snarled. “In fact, I’d say you’re far out of line.”

“If I am, you can’t even see the damn line anymore, you pompous ass.” She exhaled a breath, likely trying to calm herself. “You’re the one who preaches to the others how dangerous altering canon events are. Why are you doing this?”

“Oh, I think we know why,” Peter piped up then, but his voice was light, teasing, even. Trying not to sound hostile, trying not to invoke those powerful claws and fangs. His daughter cooed and babbled.

There came a moment of long, palpable silence. But your attention was then drawn to the television, to a breaking news coverage.

Jessica exhaled. “You can’t save them, Miguel,” she said in a voice that almost wasn’t there. “Either of them. You’re damning them by staying here.”

“Enough,” came Miguel’s deathly quiet whisper.

“You’re killing them,” she snarled then, and the baby’s nonsense silenced. “Both of them; that little girl, that poor woman, you are literally tearing them apart from the inside out.”

“ENOUGH!”

Your hand slipped and knocked over the vase, sending it to shatter into pieces on the floor. The conversation in the kitchen ceased, but you did not notice any of it. Your eyes were glued to the screen, lips open and heart stopped in your chest and world falling apart at the seams.

From the kitchen, Miguel said your name. He - along with the strangers - stepped into the living room. You felt a hand on your arm, and it sent pinpricks like fire racing through your skin. They all followed your gaze to the television, where a reporter was listening to an earpiece.

“That’s right,” she said to the camera. “We’ve just confirmed that the remains of the body found by authorities just two hours ago are, in fact, from renowned Alchemax geneticist Miguel O’Hara. Reports are saying he allegedly died from a gunshot wound inflicted by a second party. The body was found hidden in an abandoned warehouse set for demolition to clear room for -”

The silence in the apartment was so tense, so thick, you could have sliced it with a butcher knife.

And that was exactly what you intended to do.

That hand on your arm had tightened its grip. Slowly, because you were afraid if you went too fast you’d faint, you turned your head to look at Miguel. Not Miguel. Not Miguel O’Hara. Because Miguel O’Hara was dead. This was not him. An imposter. A twin, maybe. But nevertheless, an imposter.

This was not Miguel. This was a stranger - and you had fallen in love with him.

Holding your arm, the man was already staring at you. Those eyes that you had come to love, had gazed into while he held you, while he fucked you, were trained on yours with a certain kind of glaze you could not decipher. The strangers were all watching the pair of you, waiting, unsure of just what was about to happen.

The man said your name in that way you loved. Now it made you sick. “Hey,” he said, turning you to face him. He raised his wrist and shot out a web that clicked the television off. “Hey, baby, don’t listen to that. I was - I was called about this earlier today. There was a mix up with the names.”

You could not hear him. You only heard the blood rushing through your ears, only felt the icy cold that had replaced your veins. Slowly, placing one foot in front of the other, you padded past the man. Past the strangers. Into the kitchen - where you silently unsheathed a butcher knife from the block on the counter.

You felt his presence behind you, like a ghost, like a shadow; like the stranger he was, following you. That’s what he had been doing all this time. Following you, stalking you. Pretending to be someone you would trust. Oh, fuck; had he taken Gabriella after her real father was killed? Had he been manipulating her this entire time?

He said your name again, touched your waist. And you struck.

With a cry that came from somewhere deep in your throat, filled with all the shock and rage and confusion and anger you had within you, you spun around and slashed the knife at the man. His senses must have gone into overdrive, because he jumped back, then shot out a web to stick your hand - and the knife - to the countertop.

“Miguel!” cried Peter as the others crowded in after him.

You released a scream at the four of them, trying desperately to pull the webbing off your hand. “Leave me alone!” you shrieked up at the man watching you with wide, frantic eyes. “Get out! Get away from me!”

“Hey, hey, baby, you have to listen to me.” The man grabbed your other fist when you tried to swing it at him, pinning you down against the sink. When you screamed again, he clapped a hand over your mouth. “Listen to me, baby. You remember what I told you that day at Alchemax? About twin dimensions and realities?”

Jessica took a step forward. “Miguel, enough,” she said, but her words fell on deaf ears.

“It’s true,” he said to you, bringing his face close to yours, despite how much you tried to pull away. “I’m not from this dimension. Mine, my home - it was destroyed. This reality’s Miguel, he was a done case, but I stepped in, you understand me? I couldn’t let Bri be an orphan, I couldn’t -” He stared at you, his heavy breath fanning over your face, his eyes wide and desperate. “I couldn’t let you go, don’t you see that?” He shook his head slightly. “I’m still Miguel. I’m still your Mig. I’m still yours.”

Then his mouth was on yours, his hands holding either side of your head in a grasp that felt as though it were bruising your scalp. He tasted just like you remembered, just how you liked, just like how you loved. And for a moment, for a stupid, foolish moment, you were kissing him back. Because he was still your Miguel. He wasn’t from here, from your reality, but dammit, he was still yours.

But your body acted upon its own accord, shoved your mind and your logic out the window. Because you’d gotten your hand free of the webbing. Letting go of the knife, you shoved him backward, ducked under his arm, and ran for the front door. He yelled your name, roared it, but you were quicker than him. You slammed the door open, swung around, and threw it shut, then dashed down the stairs of your apartment building.

Your lips still tasted like him.

When you burst into the fresh air, you looked around for only a moment before taking off running again. You’d left everything behind - your phone, your wallet, everything - but you couldn’t stop running. Couldn’t stop running from the man who had - from what he’d said - taken the place of a dead man, played father to a child that was not his, loved you like it was actually meant to be.

You knew now that Lyla the AI had not been defective. You knew now that you were supposed to be dead by now, strangled to death by your ex boyfriend. You knew now why Miguel was late that first day picking up Gabriella. You understood everything.

Through the tears you realized were spilling down your cheeks, you managed to look a few feet ahead of you and skidded to a stop, nearly crashing into the people in front of you. A crowd of onlookers from every street on an intersection were watching, filming, screaming, as a skyscraper glitched and warped in on itself, folding and twisting as if it were on a television screen and the signal was going out.

Then, across the street, a car began to glitch. It skidded through a red light, plowed into another vehicle crossing the intersection.

A few blocks down, there came an explosion that rocked the entire street. People screamed and ducked.

Oh, fuck. It was happening - like Jessica had said. Your reality was tearing apart.

Because of Miguel.

You began to back up with the crowd as, around you, your universe was tearing apart at the seams. But then from behind, there came more screams and shrieks of panic, a symphony of chaos and pure, unbridled panic. You turned to face the street, and your heart turned to frozen, petrified ice within the confines of your chest.

The villains Spiderman - Miguel - had been putting behind bars this past month had broken free; Doctor Octopus, Kraven, the Vulture… they had all escaped, now joined together as they approached the small mass of people you stood with on the corner. Leading them was a figure you did not recognize; purple and black costume and tactical gear, mask of pure violet with electric eyes that shone like the glinting tips of the claws on their hands.

The figure entered the crowd, which parted like a sea for him, swarming in every direction possible. You backed yourself up against the front of the building you stood beside, feeling horrified, panicked tears spilling down your face as the person stopped just inches away. With one clawed hand, they reached up to gently wipe away a drop cascading down to your chin; you felt the blade of the claw nick you, and the tear was replaced with a sliver of blood.

“Please don’t cry,” said the person - said the man - behind the mask. “Not here.” You couldn’t help the warbled, strained cry that escaped your throat when he brought his head closer to yours, so that his mouth was leveled with your ear. “What’s the matter, babe? Don’t recognize the Prowler?”

Babe.

Suddenly, in that moment, you didn’t care that Miguel had lied to you. You didn’t care that he was from another dimension, that the fates had destined you to be apart. You didn’t care about any of that. You just wanted to be in his arms, shielded from this awful world falling apart at the edges by those sinewy arms and that red, chilling gaze.

You wanted Miguel because when the Prowler’s mask dematerialized and he pulled his head back, you knew the face staring back at you.

Ferris gave a wide, unnatural, sickening smirk as he watched realization dawn in your eyes. That smile curled even further when it was replaced with fear. “Take it easy, babe,” he said, his lips just inches from yours. “There’s a lot of work to be done to be getting this worked up just yet.”

Behind him, Doctor Octopus leveled his shades as one of his long, winding, mechanical arms unfurled from beneath him. Clasped by the back of her jacket with the sharp, glinting claw was Gabriella O’Hara, curled into herself as she sobbed loudly and hung onto the metal for her life.

Leaning in closer yet, Ferris shot out a clawed hand and wrapped his palm around the column of your neck. His fingers fit perfectly around the bruises just beginning to fade there; like puzzle pieces, because no matter how hard you tried to shape or bend or destroy the shape, there would only ever be one correct fit. “Let’s take a walk,” he said. “You’re going to help us catch a spider.”

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