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l0vergirlwrites · 1 day ago

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the science of kisses ; spencer reid

synopsis: during a make out session, you & spencer explore the concept of erogenous zones.

warnings: established relationship with fem!reader, mentions of kissing & slight sexual suggestive content, spencer being smug af because he’s confident in your relationship, reader matching spencer’s vibe!!!

note: i just had to write this after having a psych lecture about it, so this is hella indulgent but i hope y’all enjoy 💋

minors dni with this post!

“did you like that?”.

nodding your head, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, but it sounded more like a mewl as it escaped your lips.

it was late.

both you & spencer were well aware of the how the time had dipped from the late night to absurdly early morning, but neither of you cared. at least, not when his body was draped over yours like this, lips moving across your neck in languid strokes like a painter.

“feels nice” you said real breathy & cute, causing spencer to press another kiss to the same spot just at the side of your neck below your ear, smiling into your skin when your hands gripped his sides a little tighter.

he couldn’t help but feel giddy at the thought of him being the reason why you were falling into bliss like this.

“do you want to know why it feels nice there?” he asked in a hushed tone due to the close proximity of his mouth to your ear.

you almost groaned in response because surely spencer knows what effect his words have on you, right?

“because it’s an erogenous zone?” you asked, shutting your eyes when his teeth lightly grazed your pulse point as if he was giving you a reward, feeling his thumb press harder into your hip on top of the mattress.

“good answer” he pulled back to get a good look at you, lips slightly swollen with pride as he looked down at you.

the way your chest rose up & down a little quicker, the hazy gaze in your eyes—you were enjoying every minute of it.

“erogenous zones feel so nice because the stimulation in those areas increase feelings of pleasure” your eyes stayed focused on the way his lips moved as he spoke, how they curled into a knowing smile when he realized your attention was locked in on them.

humming in response, you lifted a hand to cup spencer’s cheek, dipping your thumb to smooth over his bottom lip after a moment, relishing in its softness. “you’re real cute when you talk like that”.

latching a hand to yours, spencer pulled your hand back before pressing a few kisses to the inner part of your wrist, inching his way to your palm & back all innocently.

your jaw went slack as he maintained eye contact.

“everyone has multiple erogenous zones on their body, some are more heightened than others,” he spoke slowly as his lips touched the heel of your palm, noting how tightly you continued to grip his shirt.

that’s another one, he noted in his mind.

“why do you think that’s the case?” spencer pulled your hand away, gently placing it back onto the mattress before leaning closer to your face again, humming when your hand run through his hair, scraping his scalp in just the right way to make him preen.

you smirked with satisfaction.

“because the skin is the body’s largest organ, so it makes sense why there’d be multiple spots with—oh—uhm, heightened sensitivity” you tried keeping your composure as he made his way to the right side of your neck, continuing his kisses across you skin before sucking on a few spots, humming when you finished your sentence.

“i should give you a gold star for that one”.

“you basically already are”.

“you’re right”.

“i kno—shit, spence” you exhaled sharply when his lips sucked just above your right collarbone, aiming to leave a sweet mark as a memory.

you were sure you’d feel the slight bruise in the morning, but you didn’t mind.

not when it felt so good.

“you were saying?” he lifted his head up, ignoring the way you rolled your eyes & how your eyebrows were pinched together in relief.

“shut up” you let a smile slip loose, shoving him away weakly before reeling him back in, letting his nose nudge yours. “you’ve got a mouth on you, reid”.

“so i’ve been told. but i don’t think you mind it much, sweetheart” he said all suave, drifting a hand down to the crevice of your right knee to let him pull your thigh taut to his hip, caging him into your form without any protest.

spencer was turning you on with science, & you were falling for it. but what else were you supposed to do?

“if i say i like it, will you kiss me?” you asked, lips ghosting his own, his eyes trained on the way you bit your lip in anticipation for whatever is to come.

spencer shrugged his shoulders playfully, “i wouldn’t be against that”.

“okay, i like it. kiss me—“ he stole your breath away eagerly, chests pressed against the other as you sucked his top lip between yours, moaning at the feeling of his tongue swiping your mouth like he’s done so many times before, but the feeling never failed to send shivers down your spine.

“baby—“ you breathed, hands gripping his hair like a vice the longer he kissed you back, tummy flipping when his hips pressed firmly into yours in response to the pet name.

“yeah?” spencer licked his lips once he pulled away, pupils blown wide as his heart raced, staring at you like you were the woman only alive.

“show me where your erogenous zones are, please?”.

you’ve never seen his head nod so fast.

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immortalmrwavell · 2 days ago

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The Identity Transfer

(Original story posted February 6th 2023) This story has been mildly Updated!

Written for @the-natwolf

It’d been a long day for Nat as he arrived home feeling exhausted and wanting nothing more than to chill out for the last few hours of the evening. The first thing he did was whip up a nice hot meal for himself to satiate his growling stomach. Soon after he’d finished his meal, he was collapsing onto his bed with a drink in hand as he pulled out his phone and scrolled through some of his socials.

Naturally it wasn’t long before he found himself on Instagram. He took a sip from his drink as he flicked through the various posts. Some were of his friends, some being adverts and others being funny videos. But of course one of the most common themes while scrolling had to be the huge manly hunks showing off their half naked bodies. As a gay man, who could blame him. There would be bears, jocks, dads and meatheads alike just filling his feed to the point where more often than not Nat found himself unable to go on Instagram in public.

“Damn he looks good…” Nat mumbled to himself as he stopped on an image of a bear showing off his big hairy pecs and stomach. In honesty he’d always been a little jealous of men like that. Men that were huge and masculine. It made sense though. After all, Nat was 26 now and stood at around 5’7 with a pretty lean average build. He wasn’t really that hairy either. He might not have been as hunky as the men he drooled over but he didn’t hate his body. He was content with what he had… mostly. When there were guys out there his age and younger that were well over 6 foot and stacked with muscle, it was hard not to be at least a little envious of them.

He took another sip of his drink before his seemingly endless scrolling was stopped dead in its tracks. Up had popped a new post from one of his favourite dudes on Instagram. Ched Uzor!

He was a massive dude in every sense. Incredibly tall and insanely muscular with dashing good looks that made the smaller man swoon every time. Along with almost any gay man for that matter. He was gorgeous! So much so that Nat couldn’t help but pull up the man’s profile and start scrolling through all his posts again like he had many times before. He could never get enough of drinking that man in.

As it turned out Ched was an online coach that took on clients to help with training and getting into shape so naturally this meant he posted tons of pictures and videos dedicated to showing off his physique. Plentiful amounts of shirtless pics in the mirror to show off his god-like body for all to see. There were even a few where he stood in nothing but a towel or a tight pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. Those posts always drove Nat and many others crazy. Getting to see those chiselled abs and incredible pecs was always a treat. Not to mention those colossal arms of his that needed no introduction. Apparently he considered them his best feature and for good reason. Just one of Ched’s gigantic biceps looked to be the same size as one of Nat’s legs!

He continued to search through the bank of juicy content with a growing tent in his jeans. There were of course many workout videos to go with all the pics he put up which was just the icing on the cake. Getting to see Ched working those impressive muscles of his in an effort to pump them even bigger than they already were. He really couldn’t be more of a beast! Though his British English accent was something that frequently threw Nat off. He hadn’t expected it when he first heard Ched’s voice but he certainly didn’t hate it. He found it being quite the turn on actually!

Eventually he’d begun to lose himself a bit. Soon finding himself gulping the rest of his drink down so he could focus on rubbing his arousal over his jeans while gawking at this man’s amazing body. “Fuck… I wish I could be just like him.” Nat muttered to himself. He was just about ready to unzip and whip his dick out when suddenly a strange pop up filled his screen. It said:

- Our service has deemed you eligible for an identity transfer. From what we can gather, you wish to become like the user of this account “Ched Uzor”. Would you like us to proceed in making that possible for you? -

Beneath the message was a green accept button and a red deny button. Naturally Nat’s first instinct was to deny with strange pop ups like this but as his finger hovered over the red option, he hesitated. He had no idea why but for some reason, something deep down was telling him to accept. The logical part of his mind was telling him it was most likely a scam or a virus or some kind but at the same time something else was tugging at him. Telling him that it was real and to just trust it… so he pressed accept. After which there was a slight nervousness building in his chest as a new pop up emerged that simply read:

- Confirmation Received. Preparing Physical Transfer… Gathering Information… -

Seeing this Nat began to panic slightly. What was he thinking accepting this random link!? It was probably taking all the personal info off his phone right now! Next thing he knows he’s gonna have an emptied out bank account and most of his emails compromised! Though just as the fear began to set in, the screen changed once again.

- Preparation Complete! Beginning Physical Transfer… 0% -

Physical transfer? What the hell did that mean? Well Nat was soon about to find out. He tapped away at his phone a little, trying to back out from whatever this was but nothing was working. Even pressing the home button or holding down the power button did nothing as the percentage metre slowly began to tick up.

His eyes widened in disbelief when he noticed the pale skin on his hands beginning to darken. At first he thought he was seeing things but he couldn’t deny it when they started expanding too! Growing larger and meatier while also gaining a more weathered look you’d see on guys who did plenty of physical labour or spent lots of time in the gym. Before long his enlarged hands had turned a deep ebony in colour and that darker hue was quickly starting to spread across his light skin. He tossed his phone onto the couch in panic as he could do nothing but watch this bizarre transformation progress…

- Physical Transfer… 5% -

Next up were his forearms. His skin didn’t waste any time in converting from his usual pale white to a much darker tone. His biceps and shoulders soon followed the same example until both of Nat’s arms looked as though they belonged to a black man! He barely had time to process this though as moments after he felt a warm tingle flow up and down his arms for a second until suddenly they began expanding with muscle!

It began once again with his forearms pumping up rather aggressively with his biceps and triceps quickly following suit as they grew to seemingly no end. It wasn’t long before he’d not only filled out the sleeves of his shirt but the fabric was beginning to dig into his biceps until a faint ripping sound could be heard. That sound only got louder as his shoulders started to bulge, growing into huge boulders of muscle.

He looked… ridiculous! His arms were huge, bulky and a completely different colour to the rest of his small white body. Thankfully it wouldn’t stop there though. As soon as his arms finally reached their full enormous size, the transformation began to spread further.

- Physical Transfer… 25% -

Saying Nat was bewildered would be an understatement. He took a second to marvel at his arms by moving and flexing them a little as he stood up from the couch. The sleeves on his t-shirt were torn in multiple places and only continued to tear as he checked out his new guns. They were gigantic to say the least. He’d go as far as to say his arms were now bigger than a lot of the jock dudes he’d seen at the local gym. Though, as incredible as they were, they probably looked rather silly and out of place on his much smaller pale body.

Just then however, as if on cue, there was another warm tingle that darted around his torso. Of course Nat had been far too focused on the new size of his arms to notice that the skin beneath his shirt had continued changing. It started with small splotches of colour appearing across his chest, stomach, back and traps. At first making his skin appear tanned in those spots but as the patches spread and connected to one another, the tone deepened even further until it matched the same rich ebony skin colour his arms now proudly adorned.

- Physical transfer… 40% -

After what had just happened down with his now hulking arms, Nat already had a good idea of what to expect next when the warm tingle across his torso subsided. He stared down at himself, breath hitching slightly as he waited. And then he felt it. A strange pulsing sensation flooding through his upper body and then…

“UUROOUGGHH!…” Nat bellowed as his chest suddenly heaved forwards, his once unimpressive pecs eagerly starting to take shape. What was previously a relatively flat chest ballooned out into a juicy pair of meaty muscle tits that strained desperately against the front of his shirt. At the same time he found his torso growing thicker and wider in unison with his pecs. His back broadened more by the second until a massive rip tore across the spine of his shirt as he hulked out of it. It simply wasn’t able to contain so much man.

Nat’s eyes began to flicker and roll with all the intense feelings rushing through him right now. The changes were so overwhelming but at the same time… he didn’t want it to stop. Even smiling a little as he felt his traps start to bulge and his neck thicken slightly to compensate. But it didn’t end there. Even as all this new muscle was growing, his height had been increasing a little as well. His torso had grown significantly longer as his former 5’7 statue extended up to 5’11. It couldn’t be more obvious as his shirt rode up enough to give the world a view of his new thick dark abs.

That said he still looked quite ridiculous. He had the arms and torso of a bulky black man with the head and lower body of an average white dude. Not for much longer though.

- Physical Transfer… 65% -

The changes seemed slowed down towards his neck for time being but they didn’t stop their march downwards to the lower half of his body. Naturally the first things to be swallowed by the darkening skin were his groin and his backside. Then as the tingling began to swarm those two regions, it was near impossible for Nat to hide the huge grin forming on his face. By this point he was fully embracing the insane transformation and only wanted more! He didn’t know how it was possible but it just felt so damn good! All he could think about now was the rest of his body getting huge and how amazing it was going to feel!

The back of his jeans started to grow tighter by the second as his ass expanded aggressively, plumping itself up with more and more muscle. Before long his jeans were forced to really stretch themselves over two thick globes that put his former ass to shame. But it didn’t stop at the heavy black jock butt. If anything Nat’s attention was much more focused on his crotch as he rubbed a large hand over it. He could already feel the next change setting in fast.

His hard and already black cock started to bulge obscenely in his pants as it pumped itself bigger and fatter. Gaining not only length as it bucked and pulsed but some delicious girth as well that would stretch any hole to its limit. He almost couldn’t believe he didn’t cum on the spot as the mushroom tip grew thicker and rounder inside the confines of his jeans. He’d managed to stifle his moans for the most part up until that point but he couldn’t help letting out a long groan when his balls suddenly bloated to a huge and heavy size without warning. A glob of precum stained the inside of his pants as his nuts swelled with jock seed.

- Physical Transfer… 75% -

As was expected by this point, the ebony colour spread down across Nat’s legs causing his thighs and calves to darken multiple shades in tone. The change crept lower before finishing with his feet as they endured the same fate. He pulled up one of his pants legs slightly to confirm this was the case and he couldn’t help but get excited upon seeing the dark skin, knowing what was to come. His entire body from the neck down was black!

Moments later that now familiar pulsing sensation travelled up and down his legs. What followed was the sound of his jeans ripping at seams as his legs started to pack on years worth of hard earned muscle in a matter of minutes. His thighs thickened to watermelon crushing levels of size and power while his calves slowly but surely began to grow to the size of sturdy footballs. During which all Nat could hear was the sound of his legs tearing his jeans apart. But once again it didn’t stop there. Along with all the muscle, his legs began stretching longer as well. It wasn’t long before his already increased height of 5’11 went well past 6 foot and all the way up to 6’4! By that point his muscle had finished expanding leaving him with a set of huge meaty legs and jeans that were clinging on for dear life. They were in complete tatters like his shirt. The button on the front had popped off and his ankles were exposed thanks to the jeans now riding up his legs!

He only got a few seconds to rest however as the next little transformation wasn’t waiting right around the corner. The only warning he got was a pleasant buzzing sensation flowing through his feet before suddenly they began exploding with size. They grew at such a rapid rate that within moments they completely burst out of his shoes. With a grin Nat gave his new black size 14 feet a wriggle, loving the feel of how big they were.

- Physical Transfer… 90% -

Now there was only one part left to go and Nat was ready to embrace it. He closed his eyes with a smile as the darkening skin resumed its spread up over his neck and towards his head. It took a little longer than the rest of the body but before long there wasn’t a trace left of Nat’s once pale skin left. Every inch of him was now a rich dark tone. But with the skin done, it was time for the rest of his features to catch up!

A warm wave of tingly pleasure washed over his head as the final changes began. It started with the lump in his throat shifting slightly and readjusting to give him a slightly deeper and more intimidating voice but also one that could be sensual and charming. The main event however was the face itself. Facial features began moving, growing, shrinking, sharpening and softening in all the right places until there was almost no resemblance to the original Nat left. His jaw was stronger, his lips were fuller and his nose was broader. The only thing left was his hair but even that quickly began to recede from the shaggy mop it had once been into something much shorter. Forming into tight neat curls that were distinctly black. And to top it all off a short bristly beard sprouted across his face to match, making his visage all that much more handsome.

- Physical Transfer… 100%… Complete! Physical Identity of “Ched Uzor” assumed! -

Bringing his hands up to his face, Nat couldn’t believe what he was feeling. Everything about it felt different to the spacing between his eyes to the size of his features to the feeling of his hair. It was insane but at the same time extremely erotic for some reason. He had to see what he looked like.

He was in luck as he’d recently put up a new mirror in his bedroom of which he soon found himself stumbling towards, not used to his new weight and centre of gravity. Though despite having just gone through the whole transformation, nothing could’ve prepared him for what he saw. Staring back at him was a black muscular hunk! But not just any hunk… it was Ched Uzor! *He* was Ched Uzor! The same man he’d been drooling over online for years!

Of course Nat was far too distracted to notice but across the room on his bed, the message on his phone changed as it began to initiate the next phase…

- Preparing Mental Transfer… Gathering Information… -

Being blissfully unaware of this second transfer, Nat immediately began exploring himself with glee. He never imagined he’d get to experience what it felt like to have a body like this. Not only powerful and muscular but extremely tall as well. Before he'd always felt like the short dude in a crowd but now that he was 6’4 things are gonna be very different. Even now he couldn’t help but notice how much smaller everything seemed. How the floor looked so much further away and how things like his bed, desk and closet seemed so tiny now. It was crazy to wrap his head around but he could certainly get used to it.

- Preparation Complete! Beginning Mental Transfer… 0% -

Nat couldn’t help but love how his former clothes were now in tatters as they struggled to contain his new godly form. Despite that, he had to get a proper look. And so he gripped his torn t-shirt and with one swift motion, ripped it off his torso with ease. Tossing the fabric to one side, Nat took the opportunity to marvel at his incredible upper body. Starting by giving his juicy new pecs a generous squeeze before pinching at his dark nipples. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how many guys he’d get to fuck with a body like this. He was gonna have dudes practically falling to their knees before him.

“Mmm I wonder if I can bounce my pecs like this…” Nat mumbled to himself, loving the new English accent to his voice. He struggled at first, flexing the muscle on his chest awkwardly, but then something just hit him. Suddenly he started popping his pecs like a pro. No wonder because he’s been able to bounce them like that for years now!

- Mental Transfer… 10% -

Once he’d had his fun with his pecs, Nat made sure to give his abs a bit of attention as well, running his hands across the hard ridges with a bite of his lip before moving onto his arms. Sure he’d given them a good flex earlier but now he had the rest of the body to back them up. To say they were unreal wouldn’t do them enough justice. They were so massive and juicy that merely moving his huge arms gave him a power rush, never mind flexing them for the mirror. Getting to feel the pure strength behind all that raw muscle was intoxicating.

“Ughhh yeah!… I’m so huge!” He moaned as his enlarged cock strained against his underwear. He was getting drunk on the sensation of how huge his arms were. No wonder he considered them his best feature. He’d always had big arms so when he started training them properly they just exploded with size! Now he and everyone he met couldn’t seem to get enough of them.

- Mental Transfer… 25% -

He just had to see his body in its full glory. Not wasting any more time Chat gripped his jeans and just like with his shirt he ripped them off before tossing the remains to the side. Now all he had covering himself was an extremely tight pair of underwear that had the tip of his excited cock peeking out one of the leg holes. Overall he was pretty surprised that his underwear seemed intact. Or so he thought anyway.

After giving a quick twirl in the mirror, he was fast to notice a huge rip down the back that gave a perfect window view of his large muscle ass. Seeing this Chat couldn’t help but laugh before giving his big butt a hefty slap, enjoying the way it recoiled slightly. “Yeahhh boy! That’s what I’m talkin about!” He smirked as he took pride in the powerful glutes he’d crafted over the years, just as impressive as the rest of his body.

But of course he couldn’t ignore the main course for long. That new cock of his was begging for attention and Chat was willing enough to oblige. He turned back around to face the mirror once more before ripping off his underwear and allowing his fat new dick to spring free at last. Finally he was able to get a good look at his body in its entirety. “Thank fuck I decided to drop college so I could work on my body.” He stated proudly while turning to look at himself from every possible angle

- Mental Transfer… 50% -

Chat was completely oblivious to what was happening to his mind. With every second that passed his personal reality was being warped around him. He was starting to believe that this was all normal while his former identity was slowly being pushed out of his head to be replaced by a new one. His intelligence dropped a fair margin in the process from the IQ of an intelligent young man to the level of a blissful jock. Not dumb per say but not as bright as he once was either.

Despite everything he still found himself insanely turned on by his reflection even if the reasoning for it was becoming blurrier and blurrier with every passing moment. He gripped his thick black member with a dumb grin, loving how it filled his large hand before pumping it slowly. For some reason it felt way more sensitive than usual. Generally his cock was quite active but this was something different. It almost felt like it was begging him to cum. But he had to savour it just a tad bit longer. It felt far too amazing to rush.

He managed to keep a smooth rhythm with his stroking as he continued to explore his buff body for some obscure reason. As he did, a lot of his former smarts were replaced with a bunch of gym, workout and healthy eating knowledge. All of which was necessary to maintain a huge physique like his. He was definitely gonna need it. After all how else was he gonna be an online coach if he didn’t know all the tips, tricks and secrets to getting swole as fuck!

- Mental Transfer… 80% -

As his free hand wandered around the muscular crevices of his body, it eventually found its way to his back side. At first he was simply grabbing and kneading his cheeks which he didn’t think too much of at first. Just enjoying the feeling until he tried to slip a finger towards his hole. The moment said finger grazed that tight puckered hole however, his eyes snapped open. “The fuck am I doing!?” He questioned out loud as he drew his hand away from his ass. He wasn’t sure why the hell he’d been doing that. After all he’d never been into ass stuff before. Not to mention his asshole is clamped shut anyway. No way anything was getting up there anytime soon. Instead he just tried to shake off the weird experience and focus on jerking off instead.

“Fuuuuck bro! Why am I so horny today!?” Chet moaned as his cock began spluttering pre-cum relentlessly, getting his hand wet and sticky. “I need a hookup or something. Haven’t been with a girl in weeks…” he droned off mindlessly, not even realising the problem with what he’d just said. Yet despite everything it was still his thick muscular body that was the main attraction of his sexual desire right now.

- Mental Transfer… 90% -

Chet began stroking faster as he bounced his pecs again in the mirror, his own body seeming so hypnotising for some reason. It baffled him as he’d never felt this way about himself before but he didn’t bother questioning it. How could he when he could already feel his fat bull balls starting to churn. They were getting ready to shoot while his cock grew more and more sensitive by the second. All of his senses were being overloaded as a thick haze settled over his mind. And soon enough that pleasure began to peak…

Chet couldn’t stop himself from flexing almost every muscle in his body involuntarily as his balls squeezed, sending a fat load up towards his cock until… “FUUUUUUuuuuuccckkkkk…” Chet moaned heartily as his massive dick shot rope after rope of hot thick jock nut all over the mirror like an erupting volcano. Shooting more cum than he ever had in his life while giving the reflective glass a sticky coating of delicious man milk.

- Mental Transfer… 98%… Error Error… -

The pop up screen on his phone began to flash with a warning as the meter seemed to get stuck on 98%.. The Error message continued to flash for a few seconds before the screen changed again, jumping directly to a new screen without having shown the 100% at all.

- Congratulations! You have assumed the Mental and Physical identity of “Ched Uzor”! It would seem our work here is complete! Enjoy the rest of your day. -

The strange pop up claimed proudly before disappearing without a trace. The phone returned to Ched’s Instagram, only now it seemed to be logged in as the user of the account.

Back over at the mirror Ched grabbed his head in confusion. That was one of the biggest nuts of his life so he couldn’t figure out for the life of him why he’d done it to his own reflection instead of to a hot babe like usual. But even more importantly where the hell was he? This definitely wasn’t his house and those ripped clothes on the floor certainly didn’t belong to him. He closed his eyes and racked his brain for a moment, trying to figure everything out until it finally hit him. He was on vacation to America right now and he’d hired this dude to look after his place back in the UK. The dude’s name was Nat if he remembered correctly. He took a breather as things finally started to fall into place.

And so, with his cock turning flaccid once again, Ched grabbed some tissues and started to clean up the huge mess he’d made. After all, the people he was renting this place from wouldn’t be happy if he left their mirror with a huge cumstain on it. Once that was done he’d better find himself some clothes to put on so he can enjoy the rest of his evening and take plenty of pics for his Instagram. He knew how thirsty some of his followers were and they were always eager to get another glimpse at his incredible body. Not that he could blame them.

———

- 4 Months Later -

Ched had long since returned home to the UK. That Nat guy had done a good job looking after his house while he was gone, the place looked spotless! Though he could swear there was something eerily familiar about Nat that he just couldn’t place. He couldn’t really put it into words. It was almost like nagging in the back of your mind when you’ve forgotten something but can’t remember what. Regardless he thanked the smaller man before giving him the second half of his payment and sending him on his way.

Since then things had been normal for the most part. Making inspirational posts on Instagram about exercising and getting into shape as well as just having an excuse to show off a bit. Naturally he spent plenty of time in the gym as always and was hard at work coaching his online clients as a personal trainer. But there were a couple weird things he’d noticed recently…

For example he still hadn’t gotten over this weird fascination with his own body he’d developed lately. Every time he looked at his reflection he found his cock chubbing up for some reason and he had no idea why. Plus the amount of times he would end up groping his own muscles while jerking off. He’d never done that before but now he couldn’t help it. But don’t get him wrong though, Ched isn’t gay. He’s been hooking up with plenty of women as of late and had no problem getting it up when they pull their tits out for him. If anything he’d say he’s been fucking more pussy recently than usual. Getting into bed with hot chicks left and right to fuck their bimbo brains out… but that could be partially due to him compensating for another new desire.

You see along with his self infatuation, over these past few months Ched had also caught himself glancing at other men. Not just in an admiring kind of way either. Like he was properly eyeing them up. His gaze was constantly being drawn to their asses and bulges. It was madness! He’d never been into dudes before so why were these feelings suddenly surfacing now!?

Recently there’d been this new guy at the gym that’d he’d been speaking to. Brandon was his name. Massive dude, about the same size as Ched himself. And just like with many other guys, Ched hadn’t been able to stop himself from checking out Brandon’s huge body. Only difference being that he could swear he caught Brandon checking him out as well…

Surely he couldn’t be gay because he did genuinely love women as well. So maybe he was Bi? If that was the case, how he managed to go all these years and not realise until now was beyond him. Well perhaps if this Brandon dude really was interested he could give it a go and ask him out or hook up maybe?… see what happens?

Little did Ched know that this was actually due to the error during his Mental Transfer. It seemed a tiny percentage of Nat remained inside him and vice versa for the new Nat as well. It was that tiny part of himself that was obsessed with his body and the part that still had an interest in men. But of course he’d never know that because as far he knows, Nat is just the guy that looked after his house for a couple weeks. He of course was the hunky Instagram model and online coach Ched Uzor! Only now he was a little gayer than before. And you know what? He was okay with that.

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writingwithgeoffrey · 10 hours ago

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It was another day like any other. Work at a fox sanctuary wasn’t glamorous, with its moments of both unbounded joy and stifling disgust, though it all averaged out to be pretty fun, regardless.

Sure, it may not have been caring for dragons, but you had shied away from that profession ever since you were a child. Growing dragon tails or horns was cool, but you couldn’t ever imagine having to retailor all of your outfits because of it.

It also wasn’t caring for selkies, or unicorns, or even the odd chupacabra, if those could be considered magical. You’d always laughed at the fact that a goat-sucker did all of its goat sucking through magic, imagining it using telekinesis to snatch goats away in the middle of the night.

No, the fox farm was the place for you. They were fluffy and cute, and with a bit of incentive could even be trained a teeny bit. It was nice and quiet, except for when the foxes weren’t nice and quiet, but those days were few and far in between. It was as if the foxes at the sanctuary knew you were trying to nurse them back to health.

“Morning, Jen,” you said as you entered the front office.

“Hey, good to see ya.” She straightened up in her seat behind the desk. “Little Riley’s been waiting for you.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you picked up your badge. “Please. Riley waits for her food. I just so happen to be the one bringing the food.”

You would never admit to your coworkers that you looked forward to working with Riley, too. One of the more well-mannered foxes, she had been found injured on the side of the road after defending her kits from a predator. With no kits in sight, she’d been taken in with the goal of getting her well enough to rejoin the wild population. You had a feeling that would never happen. After all, what wild animal would give up the guarantee of food and shelter?

“Well, see you for lunch, yeah?”

You waved farewell to your coworker as you headed into the sanctuary itself. It wasn’t much, a fenced in area that did well to keep the foxes in and the hawks out. There was always a handler on at all times, but during the day, there were enough to parse out the foxes evenly.

You took a quick glance at your coworkers as you headed for the feed bins. Some of them had transferred from other professions, and you could see it in their bodies. One had literal bronze wings from when they’d cared for those pesky Stymphalian birds from Greek. Another had two wolf heads sprouting out from beside her own, the result of running a hellhound nursery for a few years. Each one always made you wonder why they’d left their old jobs behind.

You got what you needed from the feed bins, and almost immediately, Riley was right beside you. She sat in front of you, staring up with her bright amber eyes. In the light of the sunrise, her eyes almost seemed to flash golden. Her fur was a lovely russet orange, perhaps the truest, most vibrant fur you’d ever seen on a red fox.

As she waited for you to offer a treat for her sitting, her tail wagged like she wasn’t a wild animal.

“Yeah, don’t worry, Riley. I got you.” You knelt to her level and scratched beneath her chin. “Here.”

You pulled a treat from her pocket, then dropped her breakfast in one of the bowls beside the bin. It was a nice, healthy mix of eggs, berries, and a couple of small crawfish.

“Enjoy.”

You didn’t leave Riley’s side as she ate, however. After losing her kits, Riley had been scared to eat by herself. So, you knelt there beside her, running your hand down her back and through her fur. Sometimes you scratched between her ears, other times you let her curl her tail around her hand. She was adorable, and it hurt to think that she’d lost her children, especially when she seemed so carefree now.

“Don’t worry, Riley. You’re safe here.”

When she finished eating, you stood up. One of your coworkers came over before you could take Riley elsewhere, though.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked. They had a somewhat concerned, somewhat bewildered expression on their face. “You okay?”

“Um …” They pointed behind you.

You turned, caught a glimpse of something vibrant auburn swishing behind you, and panicked, thinking it was another fox coming for Riley. You spun, but the auburn remained just at the edges of your vision.

When you finally managed to reach out and take hold, you felt your own grip. “What the—”

You tugged and felt the tug on your own skin. You pulled it more gently, bringing the fluffy tail into view. That was when you realized it was attached to you. “What the hell?”

You looked first at your coworker, then at Riley. Riley sat there, squinting with her tongue stuck out, tail wagging in the sunrise. It was the shadow, however, that revealed eight more shadows than should’ve been there.

Recognition dawned in your eyes, and with a breath that was equal parts defeated and proud, you muttered, “God damn it, Riley.”

Some magical creatures are so powerful that working for them or having a close relationship causes one to gain traits of that creature over time. You were not aware of this until one day you notice strange changes to your body.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #writing inspiration #writing prompts #writing community #creative writing #writing #short fiction #fiction #short story

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mrsbuckybarnes1917 · 1 day ago

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8: PAINTBALL, PUNS AND PLANS

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter (pending)

Summary: A bachelorette party turns into a chaotic day of paintball, bruises, and a little too much fun. By the time dinner rolls around, exhaustion and cocktails lead to meddling friends taking matters into their own hands— by texting your "mystery boyfriend" without your knowledge. When Bucky actually shows up, the girls are left wondering: is he really your secret boyfriend, or have they just summoned The Winter Soldier to a bridal party?

Warnings: Mild swearing, alcohol use, meddling friends, and one very skeptical bridesmaid, fluff, humor, and a slightly tipsy reader.

Word Count: 3500

“I TEXTED YOU. YOU DIDN’T REPLY.”

“DID YOU PRESS SEND?”

You’d been up since the ass crack of dawn. When it came to your friends, you couldn’t say no. Everything had to be perfect for them. Although, setting up flags on a paintball battlefield wasn’t how you’d imagined spending the morning of Hanna and Aditi’s bachelorette party, but it was what they wanted— a day of adrenaline, followed by a night of indulgence— so you had obliged.

By the time you’d finished hanging up the flags, checking the boundaries of the field and making sure the bridesmaids had their protective gear, you were already feeling a little worse for wear. It hadn’t helped that you’d not gone to bed until 2am, checking and rechecking all the details of the plan. Luckily Hanna and Aditi’s excitement was infectious and you found yourself getting a second wind as you donned your jumpsuit and grabbed a paintball rifle.

The next few hours were sheer chaos. Camille, Aditi’s coworker, had taken the game far too seriously, barking out orders to incomprehensible strategies like she was leading a tactical unit. She was the chief resident on Aditi’s residency program. When you had first met her you had got the impression that she didn’t like you. Now you were convinced, since she targeted you almost exclusively. Her shots were relentless and you swore she was out for blood.

“Damn, Camille,” you called out, ducking behind a bunker after another near miss. “You know this isn’t actually a life or death scenario, right?”

Her response was a cheeky grin and another well-aimed shot that exploded right next to your head, splatting yellow paint across the side of your face and in your hair. You groaned and Hanna dived behind the bunker beside you to save herself from Aditi’s fire. Luckily, her poor aim compensated for Camille’s sharpshooter skills.

“You okay?” Hanna asked.

“Peachy,” you sniped, glad to have the spritely woman on your side.

Hanna jumped up and started firing in the direction of her bride and teammates, allowing the two of you to make a getaway.

“Hey!” Aditi yelled. “You’re supposed to be my bride! Isn’t there supposed to be some loyalty?”

“Not in this wedding!” Hanna hollered, peeking out just long enough to fire at Camille— and miss. Her paintball went wide, hitting Aditi right in the chest.

Aditi gasped dramatically, clutching her heart and falling to the floor like she’d been mortally wounded. “You’re supposed to be on my team! Divorce!” she shrieked, doubling over in mock betrayal.

“At least wait til we’re actually married!” Hanna quipped, laughing so hard she had to lean against the tree for support.

Your laughter joined theirs until another paintball hit your hip— courtesy of Camille, who clearly had no sense of humor. “Retribution!” she yelled joyfully, waving all the flags she had aggressively claimed for their team.

“Alright, that’s it,” you muttered under your breath, plotting your revenge. A few moments later, you managed to circle around behind her and fired three perfectly aimed shots, covering her back in pink splatters. Unfortunately Hanna and Aditi got caught in the crossfire.

Camille whipped around, stunned. “Are you kidding me?”

“Oops,” you said sweetly.

The rest of the bridesmaids gathered around chuckling, all quite pleased to see Camille get a taste of her own medicine. Hanna and Aditi were in stitches when they saw Camille’s scowl.

“You’ve really got it out for us today, don’t you?” Hanna teased later, still wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you two,” you retorted before dropping your voices so only the brides could hear. “Camille, though? Totally on purpose.”

By the time dinner rolled around, you were sore and dead on your feet. Your arms were covered in round bruises and your hair still had the remnants of dried paint in it. But there was no denying it, you’d had fun. The restaurant and lounge was walking distance from the paintball field and the party had stripped out of the coveralls trudged over in cocktail dresses. The restaurant lounge was cozy and as evening fell, it was dimly lit, providing a sense of comfort and warmth.

The food being served was exquisite, the multiple courses providing variety and flavor. And the cocktails were good— dangerously so— and by the third round, your exhaustion had finally caught up with you. But not quite enough to loosen your lips.

“Alright missy, spill,” Hanna demanded, leaning towards you. “When are we going to meet this mystery man of yours?”

“Yeah,” Aditi chimed in, her glass of sangria swaying slightly in her hand. “You’ve been suspiciously vague about him.”

You gave them a small smile and feigned extreme interest in your own drink to avoid their inquisitive gazes. “You’ll meet him at the wedding,” you said airily. “He’s… busy.”

“Too busy for you?” Hanna asked, raising an eyebrow.

Camille leaned back in her chair, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “You know, when I met Gabriel, I used to think he was too busy for me. I mean surgical residency is no joke, right? But he’d show up at the randomest times— once, he even surprised me at 2am in the middle of my double shift with coffee and croissants.”

Hanna’s work friend, Swan, chimed in. “Same with me and Jung. He worked such crazy hours at the firm when we first started dating, but we always made an effort to never let over a week go by without seeing each other.” She shot you a pointed look. “You just know when someone’s serious.”

“Or fake,” Camille muttered under her breath, not quite quiet enough for you to miss it.

You scowled, rubbing your nose angrily. “He’s not fake.” Their stories had started making you uncomfortable until your guilt was overcome by outrage.

But Camille wasn’t about to let up. “I’ve heard a lot of stories about these secret boyfriends,” she smiled smugly. “And they’re usually so conveniently unavailable and, well… imaginary.”

“He looks awfully handsome,” Swan piped up in rescue from across the table. “Your Insta posts look pretty perfect.”

You hoped your blush would be attributed to your mildly inebriated state. “He’s pretty photogenic, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty easy to photoshop yourself into photos these days.”

“Shut it, Cami!” Aditi hissed as she spotted at your reddening expression and mistaking it for anger rather than embarrassment.

“Bucky is real,” you said with gritted teeth.

“Prove it,” Camille challenged with a saccharine smile.

“Well he’s coming to the wedding, so we can all meet him there!” Hanna elbowed Camille roughly under the table. “You can’t just hoard him forever. He must be judged; can’t just have our girl dating any random guy.”

You rolled your eyes, but gave her an appreciative smile. It was good to know they truly cared for you.

Aditi leaned forwards, her expression softening. “Seriously though, we’re just teasing. It’s okay if you don’t want us to meet him. But we just want to know that you’re okay.”

“Thanks,” you muttered, your guilt flaring once again and tears crept into your eyes. And suddenly your defenses crumbled slightly. The alcohol and the exhaustion from the day catching up with you. Hanna and Aditi looked horrified but you waved them off. “I’m fine, it’s just been… a lot. Setting up all of this, trying to make sure everything’s perfect for you two— I’m just tired.”

Everyone fell silent for a moment, your vulnerability catching them off guard. Camille had the decency to look ashamed. Hanna, on the other hand, threw her arms around you and pressed a kiss on your cheek. “We appreciate you so much. You know you didn’t have to do all this alone, right?”

Aditi nodded, looking just as concerned as her fiancé. “You’re the best,” she said, squeezing your arm gently.

“And maybe he’ll surprise us all at the wedding,” Hanna smiled.

“Maybe,” you muttered, leaning back against the cushioned couches of the lounge. Your eyelids grew heavier and you didn’t know who had removed your glass of wine from your hand. The sound of everyone’s voices felt more and more distant and before you knew it your head was resting against the back of the couch.

Just a few moments to rest your eyes, you thought. But those moments turned to minutes and you were sound asleep. When Aditi and Camille noticed you’d drifted off, they exchanged mischievous glances.

“She out?” Aditi asked Camille, who nodded. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Way ahead of you.” Camille had already reached across the table to grab your phone. She swiped your screen to life. She held your phone in front of your face and grinned at how easily the lock screen disappeared.

Aditi whispered. “She’s gonna kill us for this.”

“What’re you doing?” Hanna asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Texting the mystery man,” Camille smirked.

“Camille!” Hanna hissed, reaching out to stop her, but failing.

Camille waved her off with a mischievous smile. “Relax, I’m doing her a favor. She’s clearly exhausted. If this guy’s worth a pinch of salt, he’ll come get her.”

She opened your messages and scrolled down. “What’s his name?”

“Bucky,” Aditi offered readily.

“Now, what do we say?” Camille smirked at the crowd.

“It needs to be convincing, but not too much,” Swan suggested.

Aditi scrunched up her mouth and tapped her lips. “Something simple, like, ‘Can you come pick me up? I’m too drunk to drive.’”

“Boring,” Camille whined and rolled her eyes. “We need to go big.” She started typing. Hey lover, your girlfriend misses you so muc-

Aditi grabbed the phone from Camille mid sentence. “No way. Subtle works better. She’s the least flirty person you’ll ever meet. He’s gonna know something is up if we get carried away.”

“Fine,” Camille said with mock exasperation and snatched the phone back from Aditi. She typed quickly, her thumbs flying across the keyboard.

“Can you come pick me up? I’m too drunk to drive.”

She dropped a pin of your location for good measure.

“Oh my God, Camille!” Hanna gasped. “You could have let us proofread it!”

Aditi covered her mouth to stifle a laugh to avoid waking you. “What if he doesn’t come? Or worse, what if he does?”

Camille smirked. “Oh he’ll come. Most men love to play the hero, they can’t resist a damsel in distress. And if he doesn’t, well... we’ll have our answer about him, won’t we?”

Everyone sat back in the wake of what they’d just done, the phone in the center of the table.

“Do you think it’s really him?” Swan asked.

Aditi frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“The guy in the photos.”

“She called him Bucky.”

“Yeah, Bucky Barnes. You know, The Winter Soldier.”

Aditi and Hanna looked at each other with matching looks of concern. Camille on the other hand pulled out her phone and did a quick google search. Comparing the images to your instagram. “Yeah, I guess they look kinda similar, but I’m not convinced. Didn’t think Y/N would be into the bad boys.”

“Isn’t he a killer?” Swan whispered.

“I thought he was Captain America’s best friend.”

“Or, he’s made up.”

“She’s texting with someone called Bucky.”

Their debate was interrupted by your phone buzzing and the group crowded around your screen.

10:45 PM - Bucky: On my way. Be there in 15.

The chatter in the lounge faltered when Bucky appeared in the doorway, only for a moment before a wave of excitement spread across the group.

“Oh my God,” Camille whispered, gripping Aditi’s arm so tightly that Aditi winced. “He’s gorgeous.”

“Is that him?” Hanna murmured.

“Hellooo, Winter Soldier,” Swan chimed, earning a round of laughter.

Bucky’s broad frame filled the doorway, his striking presence commanding attention. He glanced around the room, taking in the surroundings. His expression remained neutral despite the wariness he felt. His sharp eyes flitted past the bachelorette group until they landed on you— now curled up on the couch, blissfully unaware of the commotion your ‘boyfriend’ had caused.

A familiar crease appeared between his eyebrows as he took in the scene. He wasn’t thrilled to be there, you had not prepared him for this eventuality but he couldn’t exactly say no to a plea for help. But as he gazed at your sleeping form, his gaze softened, betraying a quiet fondness.

He had barely had time to take a step towards you when he was intercepted by Camille, like a predator stalking its prey.

“You must be Bucky,” she said, her voice practically dripping with sugar. She hooked her hand through his arm as she looked up at him with a flirtatious tilt of her head. “Wow, I see why she’s not been keen to share.”

Bucky hesitated, his eyes flicking down to her hand before he offered a polite but tight smile. “Nice to meet you,” he said, stepping back just enough to create a sliver of space between them.

Unfortunately Camille wasn’t one to give up easily. She hadn’t become chief resident by being shy about her goals. She slid her fingers up to his bicep, giving it an appreciative squeeze. “Wow, Bucky, do you, like, workout every day? Because like… wow.”

Behind her, Aditi and Hanna exchanged looks, half amused, half exasperated and came to Bucky’s rescue. “Sorry about Camille. She’s…”

“I’m Hanna, this is Aditi. It’s nice to meet you, Bucky.” Bucky shook hands with the brides and waved to the other women.

“So, umm, I guess I’m here to pick up… Sleeping Beauty over there.” He nodded his head towards you, making the group burst into a fit of giggles, wolf whistles and whoops.

“Can’t believe she’s been hiding him from us,” Swan shook her head.

Camille pulled out her phone, calling Bucky’s name as she snapped a photo. She was momentarily stunned as he evaded further opportunity for interrogation. He slipped past the ogling women and crouched down at the couch beside you. He put his hand on your arm but his mouth froze before he had a chance to call your name as he spotted the bruises on your skin. Gently he grazed his fingers over the darkened patches, his face etched with concern. But rather than asking the other women what had happened, he called your name softly. “Hey, Princess.”

You stirred, blinking groggily. It took a moment for your sleep and alcohol addled mind to focus on the man in front of you. When you recognized Bucky, a sleepy smile spread across your face. “Bucky! Hi, Bucky!”

He chuckled under his breath, feeling glad that you didn’t seem upset. “Hi. Let’s get you home, yeah?”

Before he had the chance to help you up, you noticed everyone’s attention on you. You threw your arms around his neck. “Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Bucky!” you announced proudly in a slurred voice.

The girls cheered with a chorus of ‘awws’. Hanna buried her face in her hands, shaking with suppressed giggles. Aditi whispered to her, “She’s gonna hate us for this later.”

“Nice to meet you all,” he said dryly.

Camille, however, was still skeptical. “So boyfriend, huh?” she interjected with a smirk.

“Yeah,” you pouted and Bucky’s eyes widened, worried about what you were about to say in your current state.

“Look how handsome he is!” you declared. “Boy-friend.”

The group dissolved into another round of laughter.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you with a faint smirk. “That’s me,” he said dryly, wrapping his arm around your teetering form. “Handsome guy with the sleepy girlfriend.”

“Guess you’re officially off the market, Y/N.”

“Completely,” Bucky said firmly and politely. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Sleeping Beauty here needs some actual beauty rest.”

“Hey,” you pouted. “I’m not sleepy.”

“You literally fell asleep in a room full of people,” he replied, smirking with amusement. “Let’s get you home before you try and prove something else.”

“Wait, you’re leaving already? Come on! We haven’t heard a single embarrassing story!” Aditi called after the two of you.

“I’ll be sure to remind her of this one tomorrow,” he said, glancing down at you as you leaned into his side.

“You’re the best, Bucky,” you murmured sleepily, letting him guide you out.

He rolled his eyes fondly. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

He walked you out, ignoring the cacophony of shouts behind you.

Bucky opened the passenger door for you to get in. “Come on, Princess. In you get.”

“They love you, you know,” you slurred, your words coming out in an exaggerated whisper.

He snorted. “Yeah, I noticed. Pretty sure Camille was ready to propose back there.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, flopping back against the seat. “She was a little handsy, huh?”

Bucky smirked, leaning down to buckle you in. “A little?” he repeated dryly. “She actually asked for my workout routine. And I’m not sure she was referring to the gym.”

“She’s not your type, though,” you mumbled, your eyelids fluttering closed.

“And what exactly is my type?” he asked as he straightened up.

“Mmm... me,” you declared, the word coming out more triumphant than you intended.

Bucky froze mid-motion, his eyebrows shooting up. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Why else would you be here?”

Bucky shook his head and closed the passenger door, circling around to the driver’s side. He slid into the driver’s seat and glanced over at you, clearly trying to fight sleep.

“Didn’t realize I’d be meeting everyone tonight,” he teased, starting the engine. “You sure know how to keep things interesting.”

“Gotta keep you on your toes, Barnes.”

Bucky chuckled, the warm sound echoing through the car. “Yeah, you’re doing a great job of that.”

The ride was silent, the hum of the car engine pulling you towards slumber.

“Bucky,” you murmured.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t have to come all the way out here, you know?”

He glanced over at you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Someone had to rescue you from the wolves back there.”

You giggled at that, your laugh fading into a content sigh. “Thank you, you’re so… good.”

Bucky stared at the road ahead of him, his grip on the wheel tightening as he took in your words. Good. Not a word he would have used to describe himself, but somehow he didn’t mind it coming from you.

“Get some sleep, Princess,” he said softly, more to fill the quiet than anything else.

For a moment, he let himself steal a glance at you, before turning back to the dimly lit road. And even though he wouldn’t admit it to himself just yet, a strange warmth was blooming in his chest— something he wasn’t ready to name.

The next morning, you woke up with a groan. Your head throbbed lightly. Thank God for Sundays, you thought. Picking up your phone, you shielded your eyes against the brightness of the screen, cursing about how it hurt your eyes. You hadn’t had that much to drink, had you?

Your phone buzzed and a message notification popped up at the top of the screen from your group chat: Power of 3.

10:15 AM - Hanna: Mystery boyfriend: No longer a mystery!

You sighed and rolled over, groaning into your pillow.

10:16 AM - Aditi: Can’t believe you’ve been hiding him. I don’t bat for his side, but I might consider changing teams for him.

10:16 AM - Aditi: Don’t tell Hanna I said that.

10:16 AM - Hanna: I can read this, you know!

10:17 AM - Aditi: Have you seen Camille’s Instagram yet?

10:17 AM - You: No… should I be scared?

You winced at Aditi’s message, but curiosity got the best of you. You opened your Instagram and tapped on Camille’s profile to be hit with a photo of Camille with a huge smile on her face, draped over an incredibly uncomfortable looking Bucky sporting a stiff smile.

The caption read “@charmedbynature sleeping on the job.”

You felt your stomach twisting as you watched her clinging to him. He clearly wasn’t doing anything wrong and the man looked like he’d rather be a thousand miles away. But seeing Camille’s beautiful smile next to him sparked a wave of something unfamiliar.

10:18 AM - Hanna: You’d better watch out because she looks like she’ll race you to the altar for that one.

You tapped off the picture and back to your messages. He hadn’t even bothered to text you to see if you were okay. Why did you even care? You silenced your phone and rolled out of bed. Maybe a run would help you shed this feeling.

As you opened your front door, your eyes landed on the whiteboard hanging on it.

“YOU MADE IT HOME! GOOD JOB, SLEEPING BEAUTY.”

Your irritation faded instantly, replaced by a reluctant smile. Grabbing your phone, you snapped a quick photo of the message before erasing it. After a moment's thought, you wrote back:

“THANKS FOR THE RESCUE, PRINCE CHARMING.”

Previous chapter < MASTERLIST > Next chapter (pending)

No tag list. Follow me on @skittles-archive for notifications.

Posting schedule will be Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays around 2.30pm EST / 11.30am PST / 7.30pm BST

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes smut #plus one problems

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growingtiger · 2 days ago

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(part 3)

You've outgrown another pair of pants.

"Okay, I have to start dieting now. People at work are even starting to notice how far I've gotten." You tell yourself.

You look down at your lusciously plump belly, hanging far over your tight pants. You cup the flab in your hands and jiggle it. "How could I let this happen?" you think to yourself.

Then you hear a ding. A text from a friend, who unscheduled has invited you out for drinks tomorrow night. You excitedly accept without thinking.

The next day you cut back on eating that morning, only having a bowl of cereal and a sandwich for lunch. Unfortunately by the time you meet your friend at the bar you're starving.

As much as you try to stick to your promise of dieting, your friend has other plans, and once they've gotten a few drinks in you, your attitude, and appetite completely shift.

In your drunken stupor you order a massive burger for yourself and tequila as well. You confess to your friend that you enjoy the feeling of your tummy being full and you've gotten addicted to it.

You expect them to be grossed out, but they're just as drunk as you are, and instead, they seem to only want you to order more.

So you did exactly that, and at some point during that night you blacked out, waking up in your bed the next morning.

You feel nauseous, and struggle to get up to run to the bathroom.

Everything hurts so much, and your belly is MASSIVE. How much did you eat and drink?

Checking your phone you notice several texts from your friend. Dozens of pics of plates full of food with you in frame smiling, and a few of you and them holding various alcohol. There are also several of your side profile as you're chugging beer or whatever else, and each one you can so clearly see your gut getting rounder, and rounder, and rounder.

You look down at your gut again, completely tight from everything last night. You know it's too much. You know you need to stop, but past all that guilt you feel a deep burning arousal under your bloated gut.

Almost instinctively you begin to touch yourself, thinking about everything you must have packed into your gut the night before. Why? Why does it turn you on so much.

Yet another part of you is in control, and you wonder if you could push it further, so without removing a hand from your pants, you open the fridge and take out a half empty milk jug. Desperately, you tear it open and chug, still touching yourself as you do.

In seconds you finish off the jug, and groan in pain. You're so painfully full, but so turned. You collapse against the fridge, sliding to the floor as you furiously touch yourself. Your moans echo in the kitchen as you finally cum.

"There's something seriously wrong with me." you say to yourself, chuckling. You make a feeble attempt to get up, but your massively bloated belly hinders your movement.

On a second attempt luckily you manage to get up, but you can quickly feel your arousal building up again. A logical part of your mind is begging you to stop, but as you open the fridge and your hand slips in your pants again, you know you can push yourself just a little further.

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bunniebubbleswrites · 3 days ago

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My Love, Mine, All Mine

Agatha Harkness x F! Reader Chapter 2: The Library Visit | Previous Chapter

A/N: Okay so I had a bit of a block on this, but I finally got past it. I have a tag list for this now, so let me know if you want to be added to it and I'll do just that. Enjoy folks! Words:1,257 Warnings/Tags: Slowburn, Agatha being the bad guy, no beta read Summary: Agatha corners you in the Library after your quick vist with her and Wanda. She ask for your help knowing you'll cave to her eventually.

She still looks the same, not a thing has changed. You felt your heart clench. Old emotions bubbling up to the surface.

Your eyes fall to the broach pinned to the top of her dress. You know that broach, the one that held so many memories , just like ring that weighed heavy on your finger.

You swallow roughly, the air in the room tense. Maybe she won't recognize you. You both know she has to play along and so do you.

"(Y/N), you know Agnes." Wanda said as she closed the door.

"Oh of course I do!" Oh Wanda, you have no idea.

You step into the living room, Agnes, no Agatha sitting on the couch and smiling at you, the corners of her eyes crinkling. She definitely knows. She has too.

Wanda goes to moves behind you, making her way towards her kitchen.

"I'll be right back, I'm just going to put these cookies in the kitchen." You and Agatha nod. You both watch as Wanda walks into her kitchen. The tension in the air thick and heavy.

"Sit down dear," Agatha pats the space on the couch next to her "I promise I don't bite." She let out a laugh, god you hadn't realized how much you missed that sound. How much you missed her.

You hesitantly take a seat on the couch, leaving an awkward amount of room between the two of you. She opens her mouth to speak, but the words never come out because Wanda comes out of the kitchen with the cookies you conjured on a plate.

"So (Y/N), what brought you over?" Wanda asked as she sat down in an arm chair across from you and Agatha, setting the cookies down in front of you both.

"Oh, just being neighborly is all. I thought I would stop in on my way to work." You let out a laugh.

You were a big fat lair and the woman sitting to the right of you knew it, as you watched her look you up and down from the corner of your eyes.

"Anyways I really should get going. I don't want to be late." You stand from the couch, getting ready to leave.

"Oh, well of course. It was nice meeting you, we should chat again sometime." Wanda stands from her seat to walk you out.

You give her a small wave as you walk down her driveway. Your shoulders relaxed as soon as you heard the door close. You let out a sigh and walked down the block, past your house and towards the library, mainly because- if Agatha was watching you and she probably was- you didn't want to reveal where you lived just yet.

The walk to the library wasn't long, it was one you made often. You weren't on the schedule for today, so you deiced to stop in and pick up a book, you were almost finished with the other one you had sitting on your coffee table.

You were browsing the shelves in the horror section, slowly running your fingers over the spines. The books were different, outdated even by your standards.

Your finger stopped on a familiar fabric bound book. In bold lettering the spine read,

CARMILLA

You smiled as you picked up the book. One of your favorites. You tuck the book in your arms and since it was a fairly short book, it was easy to decide to pick up another.

You make your way through the tall bookshelves almost oblivious to the fact someone is watching you, following you. You made your way back to the very back of the library, where very few people lingered.

You turned to look behind you, and there she was not to far way. And it was in that moment you realized you did exactly what she had wanted you to do; corner yourself.

Agatha walked towards you, her gaze making you feel like prey. You couldn't whoosh yourself away, or run. She knew you were out of practice, and well if you ran it would be easy for her to just pull you back.

"Agatha." You tried not to let your voice shake, you weren't scared of her, far from it. You were more scared what she was going to ask of you.

"(Y/N)" Your name fell from her lips with ease, she knew all the right buttons to press to get you to do exactly what she wanted, but you wouldn't give in. Not today.

"What do you want?" She almost looked offended at the question, like she wasn't going to ask something of you.

"I can't want to catch up with an old friend." Agatha put emphasis on the word friend, but you two had been much more than that at one point.

"No, maybe any other witch, but you, Agatha Harkness. No, not without a reason." You almost choke on the words, even now the wound of her betray is still fresh.

"Come on, this witch, Wanda. We both know what she is." She walks forward, even further into your personal space, making you take small steps back.

"I don't want any part in what your planning. I'll keep out of the way." You go to move past her but she stops you, pinning you back against the shelves.

"You and I both know you won't be able to stay away for long, you've always had bad impulse control." Her hand goes to snake around your waist, but you push her away.

"I know what your doing. Now stop, you should have taken care of me when you had the chance." You slip out from between her and the bookshelf, the copy of Carmilla tucked tightly in your arms.

"You know where to find me if you change your mind." She says, her voice at normal volume, after all those hushed whispers. It takes everything in you to not blast her right then and there, but all you could do was keep walking.

You quickly check the book out and make your way back to the safety of your house, disregarding all the other errands you needed to run.

The second you cross the threshold into your home, you let the glamour fall and make your way up to your bedroom, wanting to change into something more comfortable.

You kick off your shoes at the bottom of the steps and shed each piece of clothing as you went up the steps. You pull on the pajamas you had on before this whole fiasco. A plain tank top and pink plaid pants.

You flop down onto your bed, slowly rolling over onto your stomach, book still in hand. You push yourself up and set the book down on your messy nightstand. Marceline jumps up onto the bed and quickly finds purchase on your lap.

You let out a sigh and let your hand rest on her head, making small movements.

Your familiar lets out a meow.

"Agatha Harkness is what's wrong. She staying in town indefinitely."

You let out another sigh and stare straight ahead at the lost piece of jewelry hanging off your jewelry box.

"Wait a minute," You gently pick up Marceline and set her aside and stand from the bed. " This has been missing for ages, why is it here now." You pick up the locket and open it, just to make sure.

Has Agatha had it all this time?

You close the locket, and grip it tightly to your chest as a sob leaves your lips.

Taglist: @sweetmidnights @mrsines @mamas-evil-hag

#agatha harkness x fem reader #agatha harkness #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x female reader

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odileeclipse · 9 hours ago

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Since there's no update here's a sneak peak

This is a scene that is a little further out in the future, but I want to share it because it came to me in a dream...I wrote this like 3 days ago when I was looking at how I wanted to progress their relationship It might make it in the final cut it might not but something fun to read while I finish the next part

You leaned back against the bench, letting your head tilt just slightly as your gaze wandered not toward the koi-like creatures in the pond, not toward the swaying willows, but to the soft, flowing strands of Shadow Milk Cookie’s hair. It was almost hypnotic, the way it moved despite the stillness of the air, as if caught in some unseen current. Deep, endless blue fading into a luminous, almost ethereal lightness, like a river reflecting the night sky. You squinted at it. “Is your hair magical?” He turned his head toward you, golden eyes narrowing slightly, not in displeasure, but in quiet amusement. “That is quite the sudden inquiry.” You shrugged. “It’s just… it moves even when there’s no wind. And it sparkles, like it’s full of stars.” You frowned, studying the strands with something close to suspicion. “It’s a little unfair, honestly.” That earned a chuckle a real, quiet laugh, the kind you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “Unfair?” “Yes! Some of us have to deal with normal hair that just sits there. Yours looks like it was spun from the sky itself.” He hummed, as though genuinely considering this. “An unfortunate injustice, indeed.” You deadpanned. “Are you mocking me?” His expression was the picture of innocence. “I would never.” You narrowed your eyes at him, not believing that for a second, but huffed and leaned back again. “So? Is it magic or not?” His gaze lingered on you for a moment before he finally exhaled, tilting his head just slightly so that a few strands of his hair slipped over his shoulder, catching the light. “It depends on how one defines magic.” You groaned. “No. None of that Sage of Truth nonsense…I want a real answer.” He let out another soft laugh. “Very well. No, my hair is not inherently magical.” You blinked. “Oh.” Then your eyes narrowed. “Wait. You hesitated. That means there’s a but.” He sighed, as if he had been caught in some great scheme, though there was no real frustration in it. “Perceptive.” You grinned. “So? What’s the but?” “The ‘but,’” he echoed, “is that while it is not magical in the traditional sense, it is… a reflection.” That caught your curiosity. You tilted your head. “A reflection of what?” His golden gaze flickered toward the pond, watching as one of the koi-like creatures glided beneath the surface. “Of who I am.” You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. For a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. It was rare for him to say something so… personal. But before you could think too much about it, you huffed, trying to bring back the lightheartedness. “Well, then I’m doomed. My hair just reflects how little sleep I get.” That startled another laugh out of him. It was soft, brief, but real. And somehow, hearing it made your chest feel warm. You smiled, shaking your head before letting your gaze drift back to the pond. He didn’t press for conversation, nor did you, but the air between you was lighter now, easier. And if you caught him watching you from the corner of your eye, his expression softer than usual, well…You decided not to say anything about that, either. You tapped your fingers idly against your knee, watching the way the strands of his hair shimmered even in the shade of the willow tree.

#cr kingdom #cookie run #crk #cookierun kingdom #cookie run kingdom #shadow milk #crk shadow milk cookie #shadow milk crk #shadow milk x reader #shmilk #shadow milk cookie crk #shadow milk cookie

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wosospacegirl · 3 hours ago

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My girl always gets so cranky - leah williamson

Summary: Y/n’s PMS is ruining her night out with Leah, but when things explode over messy eyeliner, Leah’s love and patience bring her back down.

Word count: 1.6k

Notes: just a little fluff fic because im o period, also, say reservation one more time.

Y/n tried to be a good person, a good friend, a good colleague and a good girlfriend. She always tried her hardest to be kind, patient and overall a nice person, but there was a specific time in the month that, somehow, turned her into a whole other person.

Y/n had begged Leah to take her out on a date a few days ago, saying she missed trying new foods with her. So Leah, as an amazing girlfriend, did just that.

She reserved a table at a new Arab restaurant in North London and was excited to go out with her girl, but Y/n was having a really hard time getting ready.

“Love, c’mon,” Lead said as she leaned in the archway of the door, watching Y/n doing her makeup in front of the mirror. “We need to go like–” she looked at her watch, “–now.”

Y/n sat at her vanity, gripping the eyeliner as if it had personally wronged her. She knew she was being irrational — knew she was too tired, too stressed, too overwhelmed — but that didn’t stop the frustration from simmering beneath her skin. The shaky lines on her eyelids felt like a metaphor for her entire week: messy, uneven, and impossible to fix.

Y/n had been trying to do cat eyes for the last 25 minutes, but none of her attempts were good enough.

Each line was messier than the last, and every time she wiped it away, it seemed to get worse. Her breathing hitched as she tried to steady her hand and try to do the eyeliner again, but the tension building in her body made it another failed attempt.

She was getting frustrated already, and having Leah breathing down her neck didn’t help with the situation.

She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to remain calm. “I’m almost done, Leah,” she called out, trying to keep her voice steady, though it came out more strained than she intended. “Just give me five more minutes.”

But Leah wasn’t having it. She appeared at the door, arms crossed. “You said that ten minutes ago, babe– I just don’t want to lose the reservation.”

“Well, we will lose the reservation if you don’t step away for a minute and actually let me do my makeup,” Y/n grumbled.

Leah crossed her arms. “You do know how a reservation works, right?”

“Oh no! I actually don’t,” Y/n gave Leah the most faux-dumbfounded face. “Can you please explain it to me, Leah?”

After she finished her sentence her face was back into her grumpy expression.

“Don’t give me attitude,” Leah said angrily, but slowly breathed in and out, calming down. “You know what? If you don’t wanna go, just say so.

“I wanna go! I already said I’m almost done, I just need to get this cat eye right–”

“You look great…I promise. It’s just makeup, Y/n.” The reservation is more important, don’t you think?” Leah said, her voice sharper now.

Normally Leah was very unperturbed by Y/n and her not-so-nice attitude. Mainly because generally, Y/n was very kind and loving, but Leah knew the girl had her moments, especially after a long and stressful day.

“I care about how I look, Leah” Y/n bit back, putting her make-up down again. “I just want to look nice for once–but this stupid eyeliner won’t cooperate.

Was Y/n being spoiled and kind of a brat? Yes. Did Y/n care about it right now? No.

She just wanted to look pretty once. Her whole week had been stressful, she felt ugly and bloated and…she just felt like shit, really– and now Y/n couldn't even have a little time for herself without Leah being annoying.

She had an argument with her sister two days ago, it was followed by a disastrous meeting at work where no one seemed to know what they were doing. And then Leah had been in a foul mood since her team’s loss.

Y/n just wanted some time to relax, a night to herself and Leah– a night she’d been looking forward to.

But everything was going wrong.

Leah sighed, stepping into the room and looking at her watch. “Babe, we’re going to lose the reservation if we don’t leave now,” she said, repeating herself once again.

“Bloody hell, Leah” Y/n snapped as she turned to Leah. “You can go alone if you want to.”

Y/n clutched the eyeliner before throwing it at Leah, who dodged it while looking at Y/n as if she was crazy.

Leah stood frozen for a second after dodging the eyeliner, her eyes flickering from Y/n and the spot where the eyeliner landed. For a moment she felt her face hardened–her eyebrows getting drawn tight, her lips parted, ready to snap at Y/n.

For a second, Leah’s anger burned hot. ‘She can’t be serious’, Leah thought. She was just trying to get her out the door so they didn’t lose the reservation, the reservation to the restaurant Y/n wanted to go.

She wanted to scream at Y/n and tell her she was being irrational.

But instead, she sighed and ran her hands down her face in frustration before collecting herself. She breathed one, two, three times. But as she was ready to speak, Y/n’s angry voice filled the room.

“You clearly don’t care about how I feel and how I look,” Y/n stomped her way to their bedroom. “I just wanted to do a fucking cat eyes.”

As Y/n screamed the last quote, she slammed the door to the bedroom shut. She could already feel tear-pickering in her eyes. She cleaned the tears aggressively while going to the bathroom.

Stupid. She was stupid. She couldn’t get ready on time. She couldn't do her make-up properly. She couldn’t even pick an outfit. Y/n was looking at herself in the mirror and realised she looked ugly in it.

She began crying even more, her hand pressed to her face.

Nothing went as planned this week. Nothing went as planned today.

A gentle knock came on the bathroom door, and moments later Leah walked in, crossing the room quietly and wrapping her arms around Y/n.

“Shh, it’s okay, come here.”

Y/n felt warmth and the sweet smell of Leah’s cologne.

Leah held Y/n to her chest as she put her chin on top of Y/n’s head, rocking them silently. Y/n’

It was like the physical comfort was just another trigger for Y/n’s tears. She pressed her body even harder against Leah as she sobbed.

“I’m sorry today’s been so hard,” Leah whispered in her ear. “I also didn’t contribute much to it, huh?”

Leah’s heart clenched, watching Y/n like that, shoulder shaking slightly, feeling the girl sobbing against her body. If Leah was feeling any kind of angriness or frustration, it disappeared the moment she landed her eye on Y/n.

Leah knew the whole situation wasn’t really about the make-up or the reservation. Y/n had been snappier than usual in the last few days, and Leah had a pretty good guess as to why.

“No, it’s not your fault,” Y/n mumbled, Y/n sniffled, lifting her head slightly to meet Leah’s gaze.” I-I’m just pmsing, I think.”

“Oh, so that’s what it is,” Leah said knowingly, her lips quirking into a small smile .“My girl always gets so cranky.” Leah pinched Y/n’s cheek playfully.

Y/n nodded, shyly.

“Come on,” Leah said, helping Y/n sit on the bathroom counter while she took some makeup wipes. “Let me help clean you up.”

Y/n sat quietly as Leah grabbed some makeup wipes, her hands surprisingly gentle as she wiped away the smudged eyeliner. Leah’s fingers lingered on Y/n’s face, her thumb brushing along her jaw as if trying to erase more than just makeup.

“I’m sorry I made us lose the reservation,” Y/n mumbled, her voice small “I was just…frustrated about how I looked and the make-up wasn’t helping.”

Leah leaned in and kissed her softly. “It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I get grumpy when I’m PMSing too. You don’t have to feel bad.”

“But I was a bitch,” Y/n muttered, her voice full of guilt.

“Nah,” Leah grinned, waving it off. “Okay, maybe a bit, but I was bloody annoying, so I don’t blame you.”

“I hope we can get the reservations soon?” Y/na asked, looking to the side as Leah gently turned her chin.

“I’ll try again next week, alright?” Leah promised.

“Okay,” Y/n mumbled, still sounding defeated.

“You know,” Leah murmured softly, placing a kiss on Y/n’s temple, “I don’t care if you show up with the messiest eyeliner in the world. You’re still the prettiest girl ever.”

They were in silence as Leah finished cleaning Y/n’s face, her thumb always so gently tracing the line of her cheeks and nose.

“Well, if this cat-eye thing doesn't work out, we could always just go for the ‘I'm so cute even when I cry’ look, "Leah said teasingly, as she wiped the last bit of makeup away.

“I’ll take the cute look any day,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes playfully.

“It looks great on you, darling,” Leah said, kissing Y/n on the lips. “Anything on you looks great.”

“Did you still think that when I had a raccoon-styled eyeliner just half an hour ago?” Y/smilesle, lifting one eyebrow.

“Yes,” Leah winked at her. “It looked edgy, I liked it.”

Please don't forget to like, reblog and leave feedback!!! plss <3

Masterlist

#leah williamson #leah williamson fanfic #leah williamson x reader #woso fanfic #woso x reader #arsenal women

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aur0ral1ghts · 2 days ago

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ᴍɪɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ დ

ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ɪɴ ᴄʟᴀss.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs; ᴍɪɴᴅ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ. (ᴅᴜʜ.) ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙɪᴛ ᴏғ ғʟᴜғғ. ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ. sʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ.

Mattheo Riddle has always had an interest for Y/n, the way she would scoff during arguments, or the way she would flip her h/c hair. He would always find a way to insult her. He loved the way her cheeks would get all red and flustered as she spat out an insult back. He gained a small obsession with Y/n. He wanted to ruin her and destroy her in every way possible. At every given chance, he would tease her until she snaps. One time, Y/n ended up slapping Mattheo out of anger. He couldn't help but smirk once he felt her hand slap him across the face. He didn't even wince at the pain.

"Mattheo Riddle!" Y/n calls out as she stomps angrily towards him. He turns around, his eyes filled with curiosity. "Yes?" He smiles innocently. "Did you steal my homework!" She yells, standing in front of him. "Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't." His smile turns into a smirk. "I spent 2 days writing that assignment. What did you do with it!?" She asks, obersving his facial expressions. "I may have burnt it for fun." He admits. "Are you fucking serious?" I groan. "What? It was fun to burn." He shrugs, looking down at her. Then he felt it. A slap across his face, his cheek turning red, his face burning, but he didn't care. He couldn't help but smirk. "You'll pay for this!" She yells before walking off. Mattheo watches as she walks away, his hand still on his cheek.

Y/n hated Mattheo Riddle. Even though they had mutual friends, she couldn't stand him. She couldn't stand his annoying smirk. She couldn't stand his stupidly high ego and how hot he just had to be. She hated how she had memorized every single scar on his face she absolutely hated it. So she pushed down her feelings deep deep down and never gave them a second thought. He would always find a way to pick on Y/n for every one of her flaws, whenever if it's her grades, potion making skills, or her hair, he always found a way to make fun of her hair, even though Mattheo secretly loved it. He imagined himself laying in bed with you, playing with your long waist length hair.

Mattheo Riddle and Y/n had a whole lot of tension between them. Every time they would argue, the tension between them were undeniable. Even their friends have realized. Mattheos friends, Theodore Nott, and Blasie Zabini, two of his closet friends since childhood, placed a bet. They betted that on the end of their 7th year, they would get together. Theodore betted around 100 gallons that they would get together. Blaise also betted 100 gallons that they weren't getting together. Even the teachers noticed their tension. So much, in fact, Professor McGonagall had placed their seats together.

"Y/n?" Mattheo whispers. "What?" She hisses back. "Can I borrow a quill?" He asks, leaning back in his seat. "No, get your own." She replies back. "You suck." He scoffs. "You suck more." Y/n says, writing down some notes. "Mr. Riddle, Miss Y/n!" McGonagall suddens yells, Mattheo flinchs a bit. "Huh?" Y/n says. "If you two coutine to flirt with one another, I may have to give you two both a detention." She spits. "Sorry, Professor. It won't happen again." Y/n chuckles awkwardly. Mattheo doesn't apologize. He just nods. "Very well then." She answers. "You idiot, you almost got me detention, I've never had detention before!" She whispers in a voice only he can hear. "You never had detention before? Loser." He whispers back. Y/n doesn't reply. Instead, she just scoffs before finishing her notes.

I wake up with a giant yawn, I check my alarm clock next to my bed. I thank muggles every day for inventing clocks. It's almost time for classes, I usually skip breakfast since I'm usually never hungry in the mornings, and plus, it gives me an extra hour of sleep. My roommate and best friend, Pansy Parkinson is the same. I look to my left and see Pansy sleeping, her butt stuck up in the air, her arm hanging off the bed, her hair extremely messy. She always has the worst cases of bed head. "Pansy!" I say, trying to wake her up, knowing she would kill me if I didn't wake up her. "Whatttt." She replies back, her voice cranky. "Get up, we have classes soon!" I say, getting out of bed myself. "Oh shit-" She says, practically falling out of bed. I giggle. "Shut up idiot." She jokes. I head to my bathroom, washing my face with cold water as it helps to wake me up in the mornings. I do my usual routine, brushing my hair, which takes me around 5 minutes to do. I can't be bothered to do a ponytail or a bun or anything, so I leave it down. I usually don't . I wear my hair down like twice a month or so. I curl my lashes, putting some mascara on them. Then I do my other makeup steps. I head to my closet and grab my uniform.

After around 15 minutes, I'm ready. "Pansy, are you ready to go?" I ask. "Not yet, but just go on without me, I have Potions first, so I should be fine." She says. Since the Slytherin common room and dormitorys are in the duegon, it doesn't take that long to walk to Potions class. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case for me, I had a history of magic first, which was upstairs. I had always hated history of magic, I mean, i enjoyed the subject, but definitely not the teacher. Professor Binns had this very slow paced voice. And he wasn't very good at explaining the subject. He would never interact with his students. He never asked them questions or their opinions. It also didn't help when he randomly assigned random essays due at the end of the week. History of magic was also one of my worst grades.

I grab my history of magic textbooks on the subject we're currently learning about. I walk out of our dormitory, waving Pansy goodbye, knowing we'll see each other at lunch.

Another reason why I hate history of magic is because I have to sit with Mattheo Riddle.

I walk in history of magic to see Y/n sitting down at our seat at the back of the class. I've always liked sitting at the back of class since the teachers can't really hear conversations from the front, especially Binns. His hearing isn't the best since he is a ghost.

I pretend I don't see Y/n as I begin to walk towards our seat, I look down at my shoes before looking at Y/n and sitting down. Her hair is down today. I always liked her with her hair down. Her hair is so long her hair reaches down to her chair. "L/n" I greet. "Riddle." She replies back, looking at me, before looking away, fidgeting with her quill. I can tell my presence makes her nervous. I sit down, making sure my knee makes content with hers. She quickly pulls her knee away. Then Binns floats in, sitting down in his dusty seat.

"Ahem." He says quietly.

I watch as Mattheo walks in the room. He looks around before walking to our seat. I let out a shakey breath as he sits down, his knee touching me. I pull mine away as I fidget with my quill. Then Professor Binns comes into the room, floating towards his desk. I snap out of my trance, pulling out my parchment paper. Mattheo begins to bop his leg up and down. I can't focus. I can barely focus in the first place when he's next to me. He's so close to me I can practically feel his hot breath on me. I pretend I'm not bothered by this and coutine writing my notes. But I can't help but get this feeling that he's staring at me. I slowly look to my side to see him staring deep into my soul. My head is slightly pounding. I can't tell if it's because I have a headache or this forced proximity.

"Have a staring problem, Riddle?" I scoff, looking up at him. "Something like that." He mutters. I look away, trying my best to focus, but I have this constant ringing throughout my head. I can still feel him staring at me, I wonder if I have anything on my face? I nonchalantly placed my hand on my face to try to rub anything off of it, but nothing. I wonder why he's staring? Maybe he thinks I'm pretty, i mean, i doubt it.. but I wouldn't be upset. In fact, i would be glad.

I do think you're pretty, gorgeous, in fact.

A voice pops into my head. What the hell was that? I most definitely did not think that at all -

"Mattheo, did you say something?" I ask, looking at him. "No?" He says innocently. His puppy dog eyes looking at me. "Oh, never mind then.." I say with a hint of embrassment. Did I bang my head or something? Why am I hearing voices. Maybe I'm insane - I wouldn't be surprised if I was insane. I bet Mattheo thinks I'm also insane.

You are insane.

This time, I jerk my head to Mattheo. He's peacefully listening to the listen, an amused look on his face. "Mattheo Riddle!" I whisper. "What?" He says. "I heard that - I'm not insane!" I reply back, pointing a finger at him.

"Y/n, are you feeling alright? Do you need to be taken down to the hospital wing, I can take you there if you want." He asks, a smile on his smug face.

"I'm not crazy- I heard you in my head!" I say. "That sounds pretty insane to me." He shrugs. "You're not helping!" I exclaim, slamming my hands on the desk. Gosh! Why did Mattheo have to be like this, so annoying, so infuriating, so cute - wait no. Not cute, definitely not cute!

You think i'm cute

The same voice hums in my head. I groan in frustration. Then an idea pops into my head, I doubt it'll work but it's worth a shot.

Mattheo?

I think to myself.

Yes, Love?

My lips part as I look over at him, he makes eye contact with me, but his expression doesn't change.

How..are you doing that..?

Magic

His voice echos throughout my head.

Haha, very funny

I reply back.

I know i am.

I scoff, fidgeting with my quill.

Sooo, you think im cute..?

No! No i don't.

I protest, even though I'm lying.

Your thoughts a few minutes ago says otherwise.

Shut up Riddle, practically everyone thinks you're cute, but that surely doesn't excuse your high ego.

So, you think I'm cute?

He hums, his voice has a tone of amusement.

Okay, fine! You're cute. Whatever.

Good, because I think you're cute aswell.

My jaw practically drops, Mattheo Riddle thinks I'm cute?

Then images of me and Mattheo passionately making out behind a pillar, his hands roaming all over my body.

Mattheo, what the fuck!

We both know you want this.

He's right, I do want this. I want this more than anything. My breath hitches.

Your right Mattheo, I do want this.

Good. Meet me after class, no excuses.

I don't reply, but instead, I just nod. Suddenly, more images of us together flash my mind, Mattheo slams me against the wall, his hands all over my body, as he kisses me roughly. I feel a warm feeling within my stomach, I check the clock, fifteen minutes left, I don't know if I can wait any longer. My leg bobs up and down. I then feel a hand on my thigh, I look down to see Mattheos' hand placed on my thigh. His hand caresses my thigh. I shift in my seat, butterflies flooding my lower stomach.

After 15 minutes, Binns dismisses us, Mattheo instantly gets up, collects his stuff, and practically runs out of the class. I usually take my time. I look down at my notes. The only thing written down is my name and the title and one single sentence. I let out a frustrated groan, this better have been worth it.

I collect my books, I hold them up to my chest as I walk out. I look around to see Mattheo behind a pillar - similar to the one in the images, smoking a cigarette, he holds the cigarette against his lips as he spots me. I awkwardly walk towards him.

"Hi, Mattheo." I greet him.

"Hi, Y/n." He greets back, throwing the cigarette on the ground and stomping on it with his shoe.

I walk closer to him. He looks me up and down, I'm so close to him i can feel his body heat. "Drop the books, L/n." He demands, and so i do. He pulls me in by my school tie and smashes his lips onto mine. His lips still taste like cigarettes. Just like the images, his hands roam all around my body, tracing every detail of it. I cup his cheek as he lets out a soft whimper. My heart melts at this.

"Y/n, skip class with me. Come to my dorm, please." He asks, I nod, grabbing his hand.

You can probably guess what happend at his dormitory.

A/n; I love this. Click this link to learn more about me/request info.

Click this for my masterlink.

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backtothedrawingboard · 2 days ago

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Evil Villain

Switch!Doey + Switch!Reader

Summary: You and Doey are playing with the kids in the Safe Haven. Doey "kidnaps" you and the children have to save you.

CW: Tickle fic

TW: None

AN: This is another universe in which the Safe Haven didn't explode and everyone is safe...for now. You are the Player and have been here for weeks now! :D

~~~~~~~~~~

You blinked against the string lights above you. A fluffy hand was shaking your shoulder vigorously. With a huff, you rolled onto your side and pulled your blanket over your head.

"Come on, Y/N!" the mini Kissy Missy whined. "Come play! Doey promised you would!"

"I see..." you grumbled. "Doey promised..." You sat up with a stretch. The Kissy Missy ran off with an excited giggle.

You rubbed your eyes and glanced around to reorient yourself. Right. You're in your tent. In your sleeping bag. Because of spacing issues, you share it with Doey. He's less likely to roll over on you in his sleep than with one of the toys. On the wall at your head there was a painting of a sunset overlooking a field. You liked to look at it when you were feeling homesick. On the tent wall next to you there were papers with drawings the kids made for you. You rolled onto your side to look at them. It gave you the encouragement you needed to wriggle out of the sleeping bag.

You quickly tidied up Doey's pillow bed and layed the blanket out neatly. You did not need another scare of him almost landing on you by tripping on a pillow. You noticed a picture book sitting on his stuff. The Adventures of the Word Wizard. You placed it carefully on the crate used as a nightstand. He would be distraught if he thought he lost it. You couldn't let that happen.

Once you finished tidying up, you stepped out of the tent. You stretched your back and looked around a bit. Doey was playing soccer with some of the kids. You watched with a small smile. The doughman remained mostly stationary and just stretched a bit to kick the ball. He didn't want to hurt anyone by accident, after all.

One of the toys noticed you and ran up, hugging your leg. "Are you joining us?" she squeaked.

You smiled and lifted your leg, and by extension, lifted the toy. She giggled and squealed. "Sure am. Who's team am I on?"

"Us vs. you and Doey!" one of the kids shouted. The others nodded eagerly.

Doey looked over at you and smiled. "You better be good at it, pal," he teased. You rolled your eyes and cracked your fingers.

"I'm pretty good. I was on the elementary soccer team when I was 4-8," you said confidently.

Doey looked down and shook his head. "Great. I got a grown adult who hasn't played since they were little," he sighed. The little toys giggled.

You rolled your eyes again and put your fists on your hips. "Heeyyy. I'll do fine. Come on, let's do this."

You and the doughman played against the seven kids. You were...not very good. But in your defense, you couldn't kick too hard. Doey effortlessly blocked the goal most of the time. You were suspicious of the times he "missed" and the ball went in.

You wheezed at the end of the game. You went way too hardcore on it. Well...not really. But still. The little Kissy Missy who woke you up earlier hugged your leg. You sat down and rubbed her head.

"What are we doing now, kids?" you asked. They clambered around you and excitedly shouted ideas. Your smile widened to a slight nervous grimace.

Doey sat next to you. "Alright. It's Kickin's turn today. What do you wanna play, pal?"

You sighed in relief. Doey to the rescue. As always.

"Super heroes!" Kickin' decided. The other kids nodded in agreement. "You be the villain!" The toy chicken pointed at the living playdough.

Doey put a "surprised" hand to his chest. "Oh? I'm the villain?" he gasped. The kids all nodded excitedly. He chuckled and stood up. "Alright. I'm the villain."

"And-! And-! And-! You're the person in distress!" Kickin' pointed at you. You blinked in surprise.

"Oh-" you started. "Oka-EE!" You were thrown over the dough blob's shoulder.

"I've kidnapped 'em!" Doey declared. "Better come save em!" He quickly grabbed his pile of pillows- which you had so meticulously fixed- and stacked them up in the middle of the lobby. He sat himself down on top of the stack with a pleased grin and dumped you unceremoniously in his lap.

You smiled and looked over at the toys. "Oh no! Save me from the evil villain!" you cried in a pretend scared voice. The kids squealed in excitement and started scheming amongst themselves.

You looked up at Doey and crossed your arms with an amused smile. "So...Am I allowed to try to escape?" you asked. Your friend shrugged.

"Uhhhh maybe?" He looked up at the kids. "Hey! Is she allowed to try to escape?" The toys nodded, a few of them exclaiming, "Yes!"

The doughman shrugged. "I guess you can."

The toys stopped scheming and turned to look at the two of you. "So...What do you plan with them?" Kickin' questioned authoritatively.

Doey tilted his head. "Hmmm. I'll hold her here until you...Hand yourselves over and work for me!" He laughed "evilly." You couldn't help but snort at how silly it sounded.

The kids scoffed. "We'll never work for you!" a Bubba Bubbaphant cried. A chorus of "Yeah!"s followed.

Your friend growled a little playfully. "No? Then I'll just have to torture my prisoner..." Wait, what? Your eyes widened in confusion. You squirmed to try to get free, but were firmly held down. "...With tickles!"

You squeaked and looked up at him with wide eyes. The kids giggled and one of them gasped. "No! You can't do that! It's cruel!"

Doey laughed villainously. "Oh, I know! That's the point! Now give up!" His fingers very lightly danced over your belly and ribs. You squeaked and scrunched up a little. He smirked slightly.

"Cruel villain!" one of the kids giggled. "We'll still never obey you!"

Your friend wiggled clawed hands above your torso. "Guess I'll have to torture your precious civilian then!" Dough fingers descended on your ribs and belly, wiggling ruthlessly. You snorted and laughed.

"W-wait! Doeyhehehehe!"

"Silence, prisoner!" Doey commanded playfully. His fingers dug in between your ribs, causing you to flail and squeal.

The kids laughed and pounced on the doughman. They clawed and kicked and punched at him to try to get you free. Your captor just laughed.

"That's useless! I'll never let them go! Hehe! Hey! That kinda tickles!" He peeled the little Kissy Missy toy off of him and set her gently back onto the ground.

"Doeyheheheheheee! That tihicklLLLLES!" You shrieked. His fingers flattened and dug under your arms. And to make matters worse, he formed another set of hands and dug right back into your bottom ribs at the same time. You flailed helplessly in his lap.

Your friend giggled and hugged you closer, trying to keep them on you as the kids pried at them. "That's the point, hostage! You heroes will never save them! Just give up!"

The kids laughed. "Never!" "Just let her go!"

You kicked and flailed. Tears prickled in the corners of your eyes. You couldn't even tell where the tickles were. Your whole body was tingling. You pushed at the hands that squeezed and prodded your ribs. They didn't budge at all.

"ALRIGHT!" you yelled. Doey stopped tickling and the kids stopped fighting with him. They all looked at you. "I can't! Too much! Stop!" You panted, a few giggles escaping you. Your friend patted your head.

"Don't worry about it, pal! You can sit out if you want to!"

You rolled out of his lap and flopped face down on the floor. "Hhhhh..." The kids giggled at your theatrics before getting back to fighting with Doey. You looked up to watch bit before sitting up.

"I can be a super hero too..." you started. You grinned mischeviously. The toys looked up at you.

"Yeah! Join us!"

The doughman narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What are you up to...?"

"Oh nothing. Just bringing justice on the evil supervillain." You pounced on him and squeezed his sides. He squealed and wriggled under you and the kids.

"W-wahait!" Doey giggled.

"Nope! Villains must be brought to justice!"

You and the toys continued wrestling with your friend. His squeals and laughs echoed through the Safe Haven until he tapped out. He pulled you closer and patted your head.

"I'm glad you decided to stay, pal," he said happily. You blinked in surprise and patted his shoulders in return.

"Yeah, me too, Doey...Me too..."

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 4 #doey the doughman #switch!doey #switch!reader #doey + reader #poppy playtime fanfic #sfw tickle fic

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thebigqueer · 2 days ago

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"Dying Promises" - Caitvi - One-Shot

Summary: vi & caitlyn spend a moment before the final battle talking. basically my take on what happens the morning before their battle. Word Count: 2515 Read on AO3

The hairs on the back of Vi’s neck prickle at attention, and she snaps her gaze up to the foggy mirror. When she catches sight of a familiar silhouette in the hazy reflection, a small smile pulls on her lips. She doesn’t turn around, though, just finishes tugging a towel against the end of her hair while letting the smile on her lips sharpen into a testing smirk.

“One night with me and now you think you can just barge in after I shower?” Vi muses.

The fog has cleared a little more, and Vi gets a better look at Caitlyn in the reflection, who’s leaning against the door, her arms crossed under her chest and her figure curving gently. She’s wearing a blue robe and a short nightgown that leaves almost all the glory of her legs out in the open, and Vi supposes she’s being too harsh; she’s ogling just as much.

In the reflection, a small smile pulls at Caitlyn’s own lips, and she pushes herself away from the wall. Her footsteps pat gently against her bathroom tiles, and even in the mirror, Vi feels transfixed. Cailyn moves so gracefully, her every step commanding attention, and Vi has to keep her eyes locked on Caitlyn’s in the reflection or else she’ll fully charge to feel those legs running under her fingertips.

“Is it ‘barging in’ if you left the doors wide open for just about anyone to walk in?” Caitlyn asks, and now her face is right at Vi’s shoulder. Vi can feel her words melting against the back of her neck. “My father very well could have walked in, you know.”

“Bummer.” Vi can’t help the grin that tugs at her lips. “Who else did you think I left it open for?”

“I’ll let him know next time you decide to shower with the doors wide open.” Caitlyn rears her head back the barest inch, and Vi watches her eyes trace something along her back. Her eyebrows flick appreciatively, and Vi’s heart jumps right along with them. “But while he’s not here, I figured I could admire the view.”

Vi’s grin is starting to hurt, but she doesn’t release it. She puts on another show of drying her hair, making sure to pull her arms higher, to tense her muscles the subtlest-not-so-subtlest bit. “So, is the view up to par?”

Caitlyn huffs a laugh. “More than par, I’d say.” Her eyes find Vi’s in the reflection again, and for the briefest second, Vi’s relieved to find only light there - no exhaustion, no wariness, no weights. Just pure, unadulterated ease.

But then Caitlyn’s eyes drift down again, something to the bottom left of Vi’s body, and her relief is short-lived. Vi’s heart trembles in her chest as she watches the light give way to the ever-familiar darkness she’d gotten used to seeing in Caitlyn’s eyes.

Vi’s mouth unwinds itself into something closer to a pout, and her own body starts to feel heavy. She wordlessly tosses her towel into the hamper at the side and leans forward gently, pressing the heels of her hands against the edge of the counter. She forces her gaze to the spout of the sink instead, too afraid to bear the weight of Caitlyn’s eyes on her right now.

The air around Vi’s lower back shifts a little, and then she feels something gentle and hesitant on her - fingertips, moving so slowly and nervously that she could’ve mistaken them for the barest breeze. But she stays still, lets the fingertips explore the sides of her waist. Vi can’t feel any other part of Cait on her - not her skin, not her robes, not even her body heat. Just her touch on her waist, like she’s trying to carry a delicate object. Like she’s not even sure she should be holding it.

So Vi settles her hips down, lets herself fill Caitlyn’s hands. She hears a soft breath pull in, and after another second of silence, the air at her back shifts again. It becomes warmer, tighter as Caitlyn presses herself closer. And now Vi can feel all of Cait on her skin - the silk of her nightgown pressed against her back, the pressure of her hips fitting perfectly behind Vi’s, her arms snaking gently around her waist. Caitlyn presses her forehead against the nape of her neck, and another breath spreads over Vi’s back, this one heavy and chilling.

“I’ve been wanting to hold you for so long,” Caitlyn whispers. “And now I have to let you go all over again.”

The words slide down Vi’s back like ice, leaving a chill thrumming in her spine at their wake. Her fingers reflexively tighten against the sink.

It surprises her how easily Caitlyn says this. Lately, their only conversations have been thrown with angry venom or else teasing crumbs. She doesn’t think she’s ever heard Caitlyn be so raw, and the way her voice pulls out of her, trembling and thready, Vi feels almost like she’s hearing a deathbed confession. As if Caitlyn only has enough time left to say this.

Vi can only let out a gentle breath. She tries to put on a smirk, but it barely twitches against the weight of her dread. “So you did miss me.”

Despite her attempts at teasing, a nervous tingle erupts through her spine. She tried to make it sound lighthearted, but as the words come out, she feels their weight float and drop immediately through the air, like an object realizing it can’t defy gravity.

“So much. Too much.” Caitlyn sighs again, her head shaking slowly against the nape of her neck. After a beat of silence, Vi feels soft lips press against the same place she felt her forehead. “It’s why Ambessa was so happy to see that I’d captured you at the commune. She thought I’d finally given up on you.”

A dull ache pulses against Vi’s throat at Cait’s words. She swallows once, trying to push it down, but nothing helps to ease the bulging pain threatening her to tears.

“I thought about you, too,” she admits. And now there’s no teasing in her voice. Only desperation. “Too much.”

“Hmm.” Caitlyn’s finger traces something on Vi’s back, and Vi closes her eyes again, trying to memorize her touch. The silence around them buzzes like it’s waiting to be filled, and Vi knows Cait’s expecting an elaboration.

But she can’t do it. Not right now, not when these might be the last few hours they have together. She doesn’t want her last memories of Caitlyn being of them talking about how much she’d despised the person she became.

Caitlyn must sense the tenseness, because the tracing on Vi’s back stops and her hands linger hesitantly on her hips once more. Vi looks into the mirror and meets Caitlyn’s reflection again, and she’s hardly surprised to see the frown pinching at her eyebrows. She can almost feel the shame radiating off Caitlyn.

Caitlyn’s eyes tear from Vi’s, and she molds her fingers over Vi’s waist again, holding her, trying to make her fill the spaces of her palms. She bows her head and presses a kiss to Vi’s shoulder, then another right next to the first, and Vi watches the tension in her brows ease the tiniest bit.

Caitlyn sighs into her skin. “I’m sorry.”

Vi looks away from the reflection of the two of them, too afraid to see what might appear in her own face. She only closes her eyes and clenches her jaw. “I know,” she murmurs.

“I am, Vi.” Caitlyn’s voice comes more solid now, anguished and determinedly passionate, like she’s trying to assert a point at a council meeting. “I- I don’t want to go into battle without you knowing how regretful I am. To you. To the Undercity. To-”

But Vi isn’t a council meeting. She’s Vi.

“I know, Cait.” Vi feels her knuckles curl into the sink again, and she has to fight to release them.

An acidic silence buzzes around them. A pressure aches at the sides of Vi’s waist, and she realizes it’s only Cait’s thumbs digging deeper, her fingers heavy with desperation. Vi holds a hand gently over Caitlyn’s right one, and the pressure stops immediately, remembering herself. After a brief second, her thumbs start stroking Vi’s sides instead, as if trying to ease the pain she inadvertently caused.

Vi sighs. She pulls Cait’s arms tighter around her, cups them in her own hands as she holds them carefully just underneath her breasts, and leans slightly back into Caitlyn’s embrace. She pretends not to feel the sharp intake of breath against her neck.

“I know there’s a lot you want to say. I do, too,” Vi says, her voice ringing in her throat. “Just… not now. Let’s just have this right now. Please.”

Caitlyn’s arms around her tighten, and another breath puffs against her back, this one accompanied with a broken huff, and it only makes the ache in Vi’s chest worse. “I just don’t want us to leave each other again without telling you-”

Vi shakes her head desperately, and Cait stops talking immediately. A deep chill rings in Vi’s bones all of a sudden, like they’ve been stuck in ice for years, and she can’t stop herself from the way her body trembles. Cait’s body heat feels like a distant memory already, even though it’s all that’s surrounding her. “I don’t want you to apologize just because we’re going to die and you’ll feel guilty about not saying it,” she heaves out. “I want to hear it because you want us to survive. I want your apology to be a promise, Cait.”

Vi knows that’s not fair. She knows there’s no telling what might happen in the battle, and there’s a good chance one of them - if not both - will be coming back in a box. But she can’t help it; she needs something to convince Caitlyn to fucking fight, to just stop acting like there’s nothing for them after today.

Vi can’t let all the heartache of the last few months be for nothing.

She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, bracing herself, then lifts her head. She looks at their reflection, and for a second, she can hardly register what she sees there. Caitlyn, holding Vi's bare body in her arms like it was the most natural thing in the world. Vi, trusting Cait’s embrace like it was as easy as breathing.

How long Vi had been wishing for this. How quickly it’s being ripped right out from under her.

Caitlyn’s head picks up from her shoulder. Her blue eyes immediately find Vi’s in the reflection, and a strangled sound escapes Vi, a sound she hadn’t even realized she was holding back. Caitlyn’s eyes are pinked by unshed tears, and her bottom lip is worried red under her teeth.

“Alright,” Caitlyn says, though her voice trembles warily. “But I hope you know it’s not about relieving my conscience, Vi. That’s not why I want to apologize. I want to say it so you know in your lifetime that I’m sorry I ever hurt you.”

“I know you are. But talking about it now… It’s not enough time to let me forgive you. And I’ll feel bad if I die and I- I wouldn’t even have had the chance to forgive you. I want to hear it later.”

Cait’s quiet for a moment. When she speaks again, her voice is so quiet it barely heats Vi’s skin. “You don’t have to forgive me.”

Vi’s head pulses as an immediate scowl builds against her brows. “Forgiving you is my decision to make, not yours,” she all but hisses. The words come out sharper than she meant, and her throat burns at the acidity of her words. She takes a deep breath and lets the scowl ease out of her brows. Gentler, she murmurs, “I don’t want to die knowing you’re sorry and never even being given the chance to forgive you.”

Cait’s quiet again, and she leans her head back into the crook between Vi’s shoulder and head. Vi can almost feel her brain turning, rolling thoughts through her head.

She feels Cait’s lips part open against her skin again, hears a sound try to escape her lips, but then her mouth closes again.

Vi squeezes her hand. “What is it?”

Caitlyn sighs. “It’s just… You’re going into this fight knowing I want to apologize regardless. Even if I don’t say it, it’s still there. I just want… I don’t know.” Cait lets out another breath, but this is hot and labored, like she’s trying to pull something from under a rock. “I want you to hear the apology, Vi. It’s the least I can do for you before we march off to our deaths.”

Vi takes a moment to let Cait’s words settle into her chest. After a moment of silence, Vi runs a frustrated hand through her bangs. “Honestly, Cait?” An unamused laugh huffs out of her. “Sorry if this sounds selfish, but I’m just gonna admit it: I want this hanging over you. If you think you’re about to die, I want you to think about the apology you never got to say. And if you really mean it, you're going to pick yourself up so you can tell it to my face.” Vi draws small circles against the back of Cait’s hand. “I know all of this sounds stupid. It probably makes no sense. But it just… It makes sense to me, okay?” Vi closes her eyes and leans her head against Cait’s. “It’s easier if you just… don’t say anything. Apologizing means you’re trying to promise me something. But how are you going to keep it if we’re dead?” She closes her eyes. “I don’t want to die knowing I never got to forgive you. And I don’t want you to die without being forgiven.”

For a few moments, the only sound Vi can hear is of Caitlyn’s breathing, deep and slow and trembling, like she’s trying to digest everything Vi just gave her. Vi digs her fingers into Cait’s in the silence, and Cait grips back, squeezing gently.

Finally, Caitlyn nods. “Okay.” She tightens her embrace on Vi’s waist, buries her head deeper into Vi’s neck, lets her hair swing over Vi’s shoulder. “If earning your trust starts with this, I am more than willing to start here.”

Vi looks up into their reflection again and catches sight of herself nodding absently. She watches Caitlyn’s head bob as she plants more kisses against her collarbones, watches her robed arms press even further into her ribs, like she’s trying to tattoo Vi into her body. Despite her best efforts, a small smile pushes against the corners of Vi’s mouth.

“You’re going to fight for my trust?” Vi asks.

“I’m going to survive for it.”

Vi lets an amused huff slip through, despite herself. “Careful, Cupcake. What did I say about promises before death?”

“It’s not a promise,” Caitlyn says, her voice deeply sincere. “But it will be my anchor.”

#caitvi #arcane #vi #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn #my writing #caitvi fanfic #caitvi fic

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g1rlr0b1n · 2 days ago

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Yet another commission by the amazingly talented @ookamihanta!!! Go check out their page to see more art!!! Their commissions are still open so go check that out as well!!! I highly recommend them!!!

Sins of the Father (Preview)

Damian touched down at the Hall of Justice just in time to watch as Jon fades away and back to the safety of his own universe. “What happened here?” Nobody makes to move or answers him. His eyes dart between a very sullen Kal-El, the boy named Jay clutching his arm, and Cyborg. The Flash zooms by in a blur of movement to join them, still no one says a word. Frustrated, Damian repeats his question, “what happened?”

“Jon attacked Kal-El, so I sent him back to where he came from,” Cyborg stated firmly.

“That’s a lie, he didn’t-” Jay cuts himself short, seeming to suddenly realize with whom he’s arguing with.

A tense silence falls between them before Cyborg finally speaks again, “I made a judgment call.”

Superman's eyes flash with anger and pain, he finally speaks. "A judgment call? My son is gone," he spits out each word with venom.

Cyborg sighs, “he was never going to stay Kal.”

“He might have!” he shouts, his fists clenched at his sides, the desperation evident in his voice, “I could have gotten through to him.”

Cyborg's voice was laced with agitation as he attempted to reason with his stubborn friend, “he wanted to change you Kal, he had already made up his mind about us.”

"You don't know that," Kal retorts stubbornly, refusing to accept the truth.

“Did you hear nothing of what he said?”

“I could have made him stay!”

“Is that truly your belief?” Damian interjects abruptly, his words slicing through the tense silence. All eyes immediately turn towards him, drawn in by his sudden boldness. For the first time in a long while, he feels fear creeping up his spine at the weight of Superman's intense gaze. "It seemed to me that we had reached an impasse with Jonathan," he continued, his voice calm despite his apprehension. A deafening silence falls over the group, Superman's face is set in a hard line, his jaw clenched tight as if trying to contain his anger. The barely contained rage emanating from him is almost palpable. Without a word, he abruptly turns on his heel and storms off, seeking refuge within the walls of the Hall of Justice.

Damian considers for a moment what may have occurred had Jonathan stayed in their time, perhaps Superman would have been the one to bend to Jon’s will. Before Jonathan had brought him the lasso of truth, he would have been disgusted by the notion but now he was not so sure of how he felt.

Damian's attention was so consumed by his own thoughts that he barely registered the arrival of the rest of the League back at base. The Flash's voice snapped him out of his reverie, “So Jon’s gone? What now?”

Wonder Woman's voice cut through the air like ice, “business as usual. Batman is running out of places to hide, we’ll root them out soon enough.”

“What do we do with him?” the Yellow Lantern asks, gesturing toward the injured man.

“Allies of the Res-”

“He wasn’t an ally, just a mere pawn,” Damian interrupted Wonder Woman before she could finish her sentence.

Her piercing gaze narrowed on him, daring him to challenge her further., “Well, that’s more than I can say for some of you.” Damian knew she was referring to him and the Flash but he refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, keeping his features carefully neutral. Barry on the other hand looked startled by the accusation, even behind his mask. Barry opened his mouth to defend himself, but Wonder Woman silenced him with a stern look.

The tense silence was finally broken by Cyborg's commanding voice, “take him to the med-bay. He can be released after questioning.”

With a curt nod, Wonder Woman allowed for Lex Luthor, who had been waiting patiently, to take Jay away. She then made a subtle gesture toward Hal, which both Damian and Barry picked up on swiftly allowing them to just barely evade the Yellow Lantern’s ring as it attempted to engulf them behind a yellow orb. “What’s the meaning of this?” Damian demanded.

“When Superman calls, we answer,” Wonder Woman stated coldly, her blue eyes flashing with ferocity.

“Di, I knew the kid wouldn’t hurt him. I just thought maybe he could help. You know I’d be a millisecond away if there was any actual danger and obviously Damian was close by as well,” Barry attempted to explain himself.

After a few tense moments, Wonder Woman finally relented and called off Hal, her muscles visibly relaxing as she did so. "Fine," she said with a stern glare, "but if I see either of you falter again, you will not get a third chance." The threat of her words hung heavy in the air.

Damian watched silently as one by one the rest of the Leaguers filed into the Hall of Justice, his thoughts drifting back to his conversation with Jon. Was Jon right about him? Should he attempt to make amends with his family? Were the pieces of what they were still salvable even after everything that had happened? Or were they beyond repair, shattered by the events of the past five years that could never be undone? If he knelt before his father and begged for forgiveness would he take him back with open arms? Would he even want him to? Could he ever even look any of them in the eye after all that had transpired between them. Damian pushed those thoughts aside for the time being, he couldn’t even consider the notion of defecting without a plan…but he knew just who to talk to.

#didn't realize I never posted this one #this is also part of a multiverse series I've been slowly working on forever #Earth 49 #Damian is Nightwing (18)#Jon is Flamebird (17)#Basically I'm picking up from where Adventures of Superman: Jon Kent left off #I disregard canon lol #damian wayne #jon kent #damijon #jondami #superdemon #cosmicbird #dc comics #multiverse series #commissioned art

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aspenmissing · 22 hours ago

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ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴅᴀᴅ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 3298 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴᴏɴᴇ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: @i-will-be-something ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱᴏ ꜰᴜɴ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ! ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴀꜱᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ!ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴀʀᴇʟʟᴀ | ᴋᴀɪᴀ

Years had passed, and the once tiny hands that clung to Jayce’s fingers had grown bigger, stronger. Arella, now a vibrant young teen, had inherited her father’s curiosity and keen intellect. She spent much of her time in his workshop, absorbing every bit of knowledge she could, eager to follow in his footsteps. Kaia, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy and determination, with an adventurous spirit that kept everyone on their toes.

The house was rarely quiet, laughter and chatter filling the air like an ever-present melody. But with the growing years also came new challenges, bittersweet moments, and memories that would forever shape their family.

The "Disaster Invention" Incident

One evening, Jayce returned home from work to find Arella standing nervously in the hallway, her hands clasped together in front of her. The moment he saw her expression—somewhere between guilt and excitement—his heart sank.

“What happened?” he asked, already bracing himself.

“Um…” Arella hesitated, her eyes flicking toward the workshop door, which was slightly ajar. “I may have… kinda… blown something up?”

Jayce groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Arella…”

“It wasn’t that bad!” she defended quickly. “Kaia was helping me, and we were just trying to make a self-stirring mug—”

“By using unstable hextech energy?” Jayce interrupted, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Kaia, who had been hiding behind her sister, peeked out. “It almost worked,” she offered, looking hopeful.

Jayce sighed heavily. “Alright, let’s go see the damage.”

When he stepped into the workshop, he was met with the sight of a blackened countertop, gears strewn everywhere, and a faint sizzling sound coming from what looked like the remains of their invention. There was a concerning crack in one of the shelves, a scorch mark trailing up the wall, and a pungent smell that made Jayce immediately step back and wave a hand in front of his nose.

“By the Forge,” he muttered. “What did you two do?”

Kaia shuffled her feet, glancing sideways at Arella. “Well… we thought if we used a tiny bit of hextech energy to power the stirring mechanism, it would make it more efficient…”

“…But we may have underestimated how much power it needed,” Arella finished quickly, looking up at her father with an innocent expression that had long stopped working on him.

Jayce groaned again and walked further into the room, stepping carefully over scattered tools and what looked like… was that a melted spoon? He picked it up, inspecting it with exasperation. “How did this even happen?”

Kaia bit her lip. “Uh, funny story. The spoon was part of the self-stirring mechanism, but when the energy surged, it—um—kind of became part of the machine?”

Jayce turned slowly, staring at them in disbelief. “It fused into the machine?”

Arella nodded quickly. “We actually thought that was kinda cool!”

Kaia perked up. “Yeah, until it started sparking and, uh… shooting molten sugar everywhere.”

Jayce visibly tensed. “What?”

Arella cleared her throat. “It, um, exploded. Just a tiny bit.”

Jayce inhaled sharply and rubbed his temples. “And no one got hurt?”

Kaia beamed. “Nope! We were super fast. When it started making weird noises, we took cover under the workbench!”

Jayce pinched the bridge of his nose. “So let me get this straight… you two knew something was about to go wrong, so instead of stopping it, you hid?”

“Well,” Arella started slowly, “it was mostly already happening. We figured it was too late to fix it by then.”

Jayce groaned again, walking over to assess the damage more closely. He gingerly poked at the remnants of the contraption. It let out a sad little whirr before another spark popped out, making him step back quickly. He turned to his daughters, his expression torn between exhaustion and amazement at their ability to cause chaos. “Your mother is going to kill me.”

Arella and Kaia exchanged guilty glances before chorusing, “You won’t tell her, right?”

Jayce crossed his arms, giving them both a long, hard stare. “Oh, I should tell her.”

Kaia pouted. “But then we’ll get in trouble.”

Jayce raised an eyebrow. “You are in trouble.”

Arella folded her hands together. “Yes, but you could… I don’t know, fix it before she sees?”

Jayce let out a long sigh. “You two do realize that I was working all day, right? And that I just got home expecting some peace and quiet?”

Kaia gave him an overly innocent look. “But Papa… you love fixing things.”

Jayce opened his mouth, then closed it. He rubbed his face with his hands before muttering, “I hate that you’re right.”

Arella beamed. “So you’ll help us fix it?”

Jayce eyed the disaster in front of him and exhaled. “We’ll… figure something out. Just—no more unsupervised experiments. Ever.”

Kaia pouted. “That’s what you said last time.”

Jayce looked at the smoldering mess again and grumbled,

At that moment, the front door creaked open, and Y/N’s voice echoed down the hall. “Jayce? I’m home! Where are the girls?” Panic flashed across Arella and Kaia’s faces.

Jayce inhaled sharply. “I’ll handle this,” he whispered. “Run.”

The two girls took off in a blur, nearly knocking over a pile of books as they fled. Y/N entered the workshop a second later, taking in the scene with a slow, knowing gaze.

Jayce cleared his throat, attempting his most casual expression. “Hey, honey.”

Y/N’s eyes flicked from the burn marks to the ruined countertop before resting on Jayce’s face. “Jayce.”

“Yes, my love?”

“…What happened?”

Jayce hesitated, then squared his shoulders. “It was me. I, uh… was testing something new, and it backfired.”

Y/N gave him a skeptical look. “You? The man who lectures the girls about safety blew up his own workshop?”

Jayce forced a sheepish smile. “Uh… experimental phase?”

Y/N crossed her arms. “And where are our little inventors?”

Jayce coughed, glancing toward the hallway. “…Strategically relocated.”

Y/N exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “I swear, this family is going to give me gray hair.”

Jayce chuckled, wrapping an arm around her. “Probably. But… at least we’re never bored?”

Y/N groaned, resting her forehead against his chest. “We are so in for it when they get older.”

Jayce laughed softly. “Yeah. Yeah, we are.”

A Typical Sister Argument

One day, Arella was deep in concentration, working on a small gadget in the workshop when Kaia stormed in, arms crossed, her brows furrowed in frustration.

“You took my book!” Kaia accused, her voice sharp.

Arella didn’t look up from her work, her fingers expertly twisting a small gear into place. “I didn’t take your book.”

“Yes, you did!” Kaia huffed, stepping closer. “I left it on my desk, and now it’s gone. And you’re the only one who borrows my stuff without asking.”

Arella finally sighed and put down her screwdriver, glancing up with an unimpressed expression. “Oh. That book? The one on mechanical engineering? I borrowed it because you never read it.”

Kaia gasped dramatically. “That’s not the point! You can’t just take my things!”

Arella rolled her eyes. “Relax. It’s literally on my desk. You can have it back.”

Kaia stomped over, grabbing the book with exaggerated force. “Next time, ask. Or I’ll steal something of yours and see how you like it.”

Arella smirked, leaning back in her chair. “You wouldn’t even know what to do with my stuff.”

Kaia narrowed her eyes. “Watch me.”

Before Arella could respond, Kaia lunged forward and snatched a small device from Arella’s workstation, holding it up triumphantly like a trophy.

“Kaia!” Arella shouted, standing up abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. “Put that down, it’s delicate!”

“Oh, so now you care about people taking things?” Kaia taunted, holding the device above her head as Arella tried to reach for it.

“Because my things can actually break!” Arella snapped, lunging forward to grab it. Kaia quickly dodged, darting to the other side of the table.

“You don’t know that! Maybe it’s tougher than you think,” Kaia teased, shaking the device slightly.

Arella’s face paled. “Kaia, I swear, if you break that—”

Kaia smirked. “Then I guess we’ll be even!”

The argument escalated, their voices rising, both of them moving around the workshop like two combatants locked in a battle of wills. Arella was taller, but Kaia was faster, ducking and weaving around scattered tools and workbenches. It was only a matter of time before something got knocked over.

And that moment came when Kaia took a sharp turn, bumping into a nearby shelf. A wrench teetered dangerously from the top before tumbling down with a loud clang, bouncing off the table and landing on the floor with a resounding thud. Both girls froze, eyes wide, their breathing heavy.

And then a firm voice cut through the tension. “Enough!”

Arella and Kaia flinched as they turned toward the doorway, where Jayce and Y/N stood, their expressions a mix of exhaustion and irritation. Jayce sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What’s going on?”

“She stole my book!” Kaia huffed, pointing an accusing finger at Arella.

Arella scowled, crossing her arms. “And now she’s messing with my stuff!”

Y/N crossed her arms, giving them both a stern look. “This is ridiculous. You’re sisters. You need to respect each other’s things.”

Kaia hesitated, looking down at the device in her hand. For the first time, she noticed the delicate gears and intricate wiring. The thought of actually damaging it made her stomach twist a little. With a grumble, she handed it back to Arella. “Fine.”

Arella sighed, inspecting the device quickly before placing it back on the table. “Sorry. I should’ve asked first.”

Kaia kicked at the floor, mumbling, “Yeah… sorry for grabbing your thing.”

Jayce exhaled, shaking his head. “Alright. Now, are we done acting like toddlers?”

Both girls mumbled a reluctant, “Yes.”

“Good,” Y/N said, rubbing her temples. “Because if I have to break up another fight over a book, I’m confiscating all of them.”

Arella and Kaia exchanged horrified glances before quickly making amends.

From the doorway, Viktor, who had been watching silently with a cup of tea in hand, smirked. “Ah, sibling love.”

Jayce glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. “You knew they were fighting and just stood there?”

Viktor took a slow sip of his tea, his smirk widening slightly. “I was enjoying the show.”

Kaia pouted. “Uncle Vikky, you could have helped me!”

Viktor chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, but conflict builds character, little one.”

Arella rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Y/N sighed, turning back to Jayce. “We really need to start locking the workshop.”

Jayce gave his daughters a pointed look. “Or start charging them for every mess they make.”

Kaia gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

Arella smirked. “He would.”

Jayce grinned. “I absolutely would.”

Viktor chuckled once more before turning to leave. “I look forward to the next episode.”

As the dust settled, Kaia and Arella exchanged glances, a silent truce passing between them. The battle may have ended, but the war of sibling rivalry? That would never truly be over.

A Father’s Worst Nightmare

Jayce had faced many things in life—war, politics, even near-death experiences. But nothing, nothing, had prepared him for the day Arella brought home a boy.

Jayce’s eye twitched as he watched the young man standing in his living room, shifting nervously under his scrutinizing gaze. The boy, to his credit, stood up straight, but Jayce could see the way his fingers subtly clenched and unclenched at his sides, a telltale sign of nerves.

Good. He should be nervous.

Arella, standing beside the boy, looked way too amused by the situation. “Papa,” she said, exasperated, “this is Emil. Emil, this is my very dramatic father.”

Jayce ignored the teasing and took a deliberate step closer, towering over the poor kid. “So,” he said, his voice low and authoritative. “What do you want with my daughter?”

Emil swallowed hard. “I… I just want to take Arella to the festival, sir.”

“Sir,” Jayce repeated, raising an eyebrow. At least the kid had manners.

“I promise, I’ll keep her safe,” Emil added quickly.

Jayce narrowed his eyes. “I am her safety.”

Arella groaned, rubbing her temples. “Papa, please.”

Kaia, ever the troublemaker, sat cross-legged on the couch, enjoying every second of the spectacle. “Oh, this is so good,” she whispered gleefully to no one in particular, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth like she was watching the world’s best drama.

Jayce continued his assessment. Emil wasn’t that bad-looking—short, dark hair, sharp but kind eyes, an athletic build. He had that awkward politeness of a boy raised to respect authority. But still, he was a boy, and Jayce wasn’t ready for this.

“I don’t know…” Jayce murmured, rubbing his chin as if deep in thought. “What if something happens? What if she gets cold? What if she gets lost? What if—”

“I won’t,” Arella cut in, arms crossed. “Papa, I am perfectly capable of handling myself.”

Jayce grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, but before he could continue his interrogation, a new voice chimed in from the kitchen.

“Jayce. Let them go.”

Y/N appeared in the doorway, her arms crossed but an amused smile playing on her lips. She gave Jayce that look—the one that meant she had already decided how this was going to go. The one that told him he was fighting a losing battle.

Jayce scowled but ultimately stepped back, sighing dramatically. “Fine. But if anything happens to her—”

“It won’t!” Arella said quickly, grabbing Emil’s hand and practically dragging him out before her father could change his mind.

Jayce crossed his arms and glared at the door long after they were gone, as if his eyes alone could summon his daughter back into the house.

As soon as the door shut, Jayce let out a long, suffering sigh and turned to Y/N. “I hate this.”

She chuckled, walking over to pat his shoulder. “You’ll live.”

Kaia, still watching from the couch, smirked. “That was so fun. I can’t wait for my turn.”

Jayce snapped his gaze to her so fast it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash. “You will wait.”

Kaia grinned devilishly. “Will I?”

Jayce dragged a hand down his face. “I’m not ready.”

Y/N laughed, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You never will be.”

Meanwhile, Viktor, who had been silently sipping his tea in the corner, finally spoke up. “You know, you are handling this much better than I expected.”

Jayce narrowed his eyes. “You expected me to handle this worse?”

Viktor smirked. “Oh, absolutely. I assumed there would be threats, perhaps a few creative hextech-related warnings. Maybe even an ‘accidental’ electrical malfunction near the boy.”

Jayce blinked. “…You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Jayce,” Y/N warned, eyes narrowing.

Jayce sighed dramatically. “Fiiiine.”

Kaia giggled. “You so thought about it, though.”

Jayce crossed his arms. “Maybe.”

Kaia cackled. “I knew it!”

Viktor shook his head in amusement. “Ah, parenthood. Endlessly entertaining.”

Jayce muttered something about needing a drink and trudged toward the kitchen. Y/N simply smiled, watching him go. Their girls were growing up, and even though Jayce would fight it every step of the way, she knew deep down that he wouldn’t change a thing.

But that didn’t mean he had to like it.

As Jayce poured himself a glass of something strong, Viktor followed him, setting his tea cup down with a quiet clink. “You know,” Viktor mused, “if you scare off every boy, she may end up resenting you for it.”

Jayce huffed. “That’s the goal, Vik.”

Viktor chuckled. “Ah, but love is stubborn. You cannot shield her from it forever.”

Jayce took a long sip, sighing. “I can try.”

Y/N walked in, placing a gentle hand on his back. “You will try. And you will fail.”

Jayce groaned. “I hate when you’re right.”

Y/N smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Get used to it.”

Date Night Disaster

“Alright, you two, behave,” Y/N said firmly, adjusting her coat as she and Jayce prepared to leave for a much-needed date night. “And listen to Uncle Vikky, okay?”

Arella and Kaia exchanged glances, both trying to hide their mischievous grins. “Of course, Mama,” Kaia said sweetly.

Jayce narrowed his eyes. “That’s exactly what you said before the last time we left you alone, and we came back to—” he gestured wildly, “—a flour explosion in the kitchen.”

“That was Arella’s fault,” Kaia said quickly, pointing at her sister.

Arella gasped. “Excuse me? You were the one who—”

“Enough,” Y/N cut in, exasperated. “Just no disasters this time. Viktor, you sure you can handle them?”

Viktor, sitting on the couch with his cane resting beside him, gave a small smirk. “They are only two children. How difficult could it be?”

Jayce sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Famous last words.”

With a final, suspicious glance at his daughters, Jayce led Y/N out the door, leaving the girls alone with their reluctant babysitter.

For the first thirty minutes, everything was calm. Too calm.

Viktor was quietly reading while the girls sat across from him, whispering to each other. He knew that whispering was never a good sign.

“Uncle Vikky,” Kaia finally spoke up, her voice innocent. “Can we play a game?”

Viktor glanced over his book. “That depends. What kind of game?”

Arella grinned. “We want to play ‘Make Uncle Vikky Laugh.’”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. “I do not laugh easily.”

Kaia smirked. “Challenge accepted.”

What followed was a series of increasingly absurd attempts to get Viktor to crack. Kaia balanced a spoon on her nose. Arella re-enacted a dramatic—and highly inaccurate—performance of Jayce’s greatest battles. At one point, Kaia wrapped a blanket around herself and declared she was now ‘Queen of the Couch’ and demanded Viktor bow.

He did not bow.

After an hour, Kaia was standing on a chair, dramatically singing a song about how “Uncle Vikky has no soul,” while Arella was attempting to create a moustache out of flour to “give Viktor a new look.”

Viktor, unimpressed but undeniably amused, sighed. “Is this truly what you do when your parents leave?”

Arella shrugged. “Sometimes. Other times, we build things.”

“Or try to,” Kaia muttered.

Viktor set down his book and looked between them. “You want to build something?”

The girls’ eyes lit up. “Yes!”

Viktor smirked. “Then let’s build.”

By the time Jayce and Y/N returned home, expecting at least some minor catastrophe, they were instead met with an unusual sight: Viktor and the girls sitting together on the floor, surrounded by gears, blueprints, and what appeared to be a small functioning automaton.

Y/N blinked. “Did… did they behave?”

Viktor smirked slightly, adjusting his cane as he stood. “For the most part. Though, I may have let them stay up past their bedtime.”

Jayce looked at the tiny mechanical figure on the table, blinking in astonishment. “You built that in one night?”

Arella grinned proudly. “With Uncle Vikky’s help!”

Kaia yawned, rubbing her eyes. “It was awesome.”

Y/N shook her head with a small smile, looking at Viktor. “You’re a miracle worker.”

Viktor smirked. “I have my moments.”

As Jayce carried Kaia to bed and Y/N helped Arella clean up, Viktor gathered his coat, preparing to leave. Before he could step out, Arella suddenly ran up to him and hugged him tightly.

“Thanks, Uncle Vikky,” she murmured sleepily. “You’re the best.”

Viktor stiffened slightly, clearly unaccustomed to the affection, but after a moment, he patted her head gently. “Good night, little one.”

Kaia, half-asleep in Jayce’s arms, mumbled, “We’re gonna make you laugh next time, Vikky…”

Viktor chuckled softly as he stepped out the door. “We shall see.”

And with that, another chaotic but heart-warming night came to an end.

#Arcane #Arcane Fandom #arcane fluff #reader insert #Fluff #jayce x y/n #jayce x reader #jayce talis x reader #jayce x you #Dad!Jayce Talis #Dad!Jayce

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theonlymanny · 24 hours ago

Text

Bruce’s oldest son pt.2

Note: I kind of forgot what was going to happen with reader’s powers so Idk what to tell you just imagine Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet witch kind off magic.

There’s some things that might sound weird without context. Just a little warning.

////////////////////////////////////////////

Wake…up…

Wake up!

“Oh my god! What the heck…ugh why does my head hurt so much?” You felt dizzy and your eyes felt heavy. “Where a I?” You took a good look around you before closing your eyes again. “No! I’ve got to get up.” You opened your eyes to what seemed to be a pool of blood.

“Woah! Is this… my blood?” You checked yourself, but you didn’t have any wound or cuts. “Okay this is freaking me out… and why is the sky red.”

“It seems that you’ve finally woken up”

“Who is this? Show yourself!”

“I’m not exactly here…”

“This feels weird… I can hear you, not here but in my mind! Am I going crazy!?”

“I’m what you were meant to be…”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you even remember who are you?”

“Of course I do. I’m M/n!”

“M/n who?”

“I’m M/n-… well I’m M/n… Oh fuck I can’t remember anything. I just remember a big explosion and someone crying. I don’t know who I am…”.

“I do… I know who you are, I know who you were meant to be what we were meant to be…”

“But how do I even know to trust you! If anything you could be a creation of my imagination.”

“I promise you that I going to show you the truth about us, after all I’m your only way out of here.”

“Where exactly is here…”

“I’m not pretty sure… but there only one way to find out… do you trust me?”

“Sure…”

“Okay… close your eyes”

For a brief second you could see the “other you” which didn’t really look anything like you, he was really hot though.

His face and body were all perfect. Just too perfect, A little weird… In that same moment he also looked at you, a little embarrassed of the eye contact.

“We’re almost there!”

“Wait! You haven’t told me where are we-”

Before you could finish the sentence you landed on the roof top of a building. “Next time warn me if you are gonna do something like that again.”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“What’s going on!?” It was a very, very long night on the Wayne manor. The new member of the family, Damian. Was such a little brat that he started annoying everyone in the manor, except Alfred of course.

“This little gremlin went into my room and broke the picture of M/n!” Bruce sighed loudly before asking Damian why did he do that. “It was an accident! Besides how important can be a single stupid photo!?” Jason went straight to punching Damian.

“Whats happening here?” Tim came into the room confused about the discussion that Jason and Damian were having, though at this point it shouldn’t even be surprising.

“It too late to discuss this and I’m tired just go to your room. Now!” Jason walked angrily to his room a little surprised by Bruce’s reaction. A part of him was also hurt, did he just forget everything that happened? That you died

“You too Damian. Go to your room.” “But, father-” “now!” Damian ran quickly past Tim to his room.

“You should get some sleep dad…” Tim was worried for his father, he hasn’t slept in days and overworked himself. Tim knew about you, Bruce’s first born child that died saving Robin AKA Jason Todd, his brother.

When Tim first moved in he wasn’t welcomed well… at least by Jason who just ignored him and tried to get as far away from him. Dick was the exact opposite he was the best brother always taking care of him. Jason did end up liking Tim and tried to be better.

Dick and Jason both talked to Bruce about why did he adopt another child although for very different reasons. Jason thought Tim was a replacement for you that he only wanted to be blind about what happened and forget about you. Dick didn’t want to put Tim in danger like Bruce did. With Jason or him.

Bruce ended up being overprotective over his sons and didn’t let Tim fight with him in the streets. Bruce never ended up forming the justice league because he feared one of his villains might kidnap or even kill his kids if he weren’t the to protect them.

So Tim never had any experience in fighting. Which lead to more fights with Damian.

“I’m… fine Tim, go to bed it been a very long night.”

After Tim left a phone rang not.

“Bruce Wayne, what do you need.” He said coldly and tired.

“Mr Wayne… we have some information you might want to see.”

“Is it really important?”

“Yes, it’s some information about your son.”

“Which kid did it I’ll pay for it-”

“It’s about M/n”

A loud silence crowded the room in which Bruce was. His eyes opened wide and suddenly he felt awake.

“I’m coming to the station now.” Before the chief could answer back Bruce hanged up and ran straight for his coat.

“Alfred I’ll be right back tell the kids that I’ll be back in the morning. And no sweets for breakfast!”

“May I ask master Bruce… what’s going on?”

“The police department found out some information about… M/n.”

“I see… do you think master M/n is…”

“I don’t know, but I’ll see what’s going on over there.”

Bruce grabbed the keys to his cars and quickly drove to the police station.

“Where the chief?” “Mister Wayne we weren’t expecting you tonight. May we help you with anything?” Bruce grumbled angrily “I need to see the chief” he said a little louder this time. “I-I see he is right in his office.”

Bruce walked past everyone over to the office and he could hear the voices of people talking about him.

“Mister Wayne we have found something that is rather interesting and a little bit confusing.”

“What have you found about my son?”

“There was a robbery today at a nearby bank and well… you might want to see this for yourself.”

“It-it can’t be…”

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Hey little wing what’s going on?” Jason called dick after his fight with Damian. “I-I jut can’t handle it!” Jason started sobbing. “that little gremlin broke M/n picture and Bruce reacted like nothing happened… I really miss him… it’s all my fault”.

“Don’t say that it isn’t your fault. I’m sure Damian will warm up to you eventually… I’m sorry about what happened with your photo.” “It’s fine I guess, do you now when are you gonna come back?”

“It’s been a long trip I’ll be probably back In 3 days don’t worry. He still with us even if he’s not Alive.” “Your right”

“I wish I could say sorry…”

#male reader #dc comics #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #red hood #nightwing #batfamily #angst

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